CHAPTER 14: LEARNING TO LIVE TOGATHER
Harry had to admit that he had experienced the best night of his life, and the main reason for that was sleeping peacefully right next to him, curled up against his body and hugging his waist as if she didn't want him to leave her, even while she slept. Daphne had just spent her first evening at the Château de Lamballe, a château that intimidated her from the start with its large size and luxury, which stood in stark contrast to her parents' house. Perhaps out of fear, but also out of a desire to have him continually under her eyes, she had made it a point not to leave him, even for just a few minutes. She did not hesitate, like that night, to come and join him in his bed, a move the principal concerned would not complain about in the least.
The other reason may have been that she simply wanted to isolate herself with him to avoid the many curious looks that crossed her path—servants wanting to see the young girl who would later become Prince Gabriel's wife, without even realizing that their behavior was not very appreciable. Daphne was not the shy type, far from it, but seeing dozens of strangers watching her while she discovered the castle in the company of Harry and Marie-Louise was unsettling for her. She was unaccustomed to being the center of attention. The only one whose presence she appreciated was Louise-Elisabeth, with whom she quickly became friends because, just like her, Harry's aunt had had a real reverence for dolls when she was the same age. Discussing lace and china was not Harry's taste, but it at least allowed his young friend to relax for the rest of yesterday.
Harry was sure to remember for a long time the wonder in her eyes, the desire that stood out on her face, and the excitement at the idea of living here for a while. Seeing her so fulfilled was, for him, the best balm; the reunion was even more intense. Daphne did not yet seem to have realized that this residence could very well later become her home or even that, once she grew up, she would be required to play hostess for the guests they could both receive here. On the contrary, at the age of seven, Daphne still remained a little girl of her age, already imagining herself playing in all the plays she came across on her route and impatient at the idea of inviting Tracey, Astoria, and Rosie to play with young ladies.
Even though he loved all four of them, Harry couldn't help but gulp as he already imagined having to live with all four of them at the same time, a prospect more distressing than exciting in his opinion, especially when he thought of Tracey, who was by far the most active and dynamic of the four. The castle probably wouldn't survive his little games, but on the other hand, he was sure he wouldn't be bored at that moment. As for Astoria and Rosie, the first would be too busy admiring the dresses of Marie-Louise and her aunt Elisabeth to think about doing stupid things, while the second was not the type to worry about support from her best friend. In any case, everyone nevertheless had enough intelligence to tell themselves that it was better to be good company here if they wanted to stay long enough to get their bearings.
Thinking of his brother, Harry suppressed the urge to laugh as he imagined him insulting everyone for having the biggest room in the castle, even if it meant evicting the resident, in this case, his mother. The poor man risked ultimately being sent to pasture with the added bonus of a spell that he would remember for the rest of his life. But hey, he would never set foot here, so this possibility had as much chance of seeing the light of day as the one where James would once again become an exemplary father for Harry: unimaginable.
Movement on the side of the bed where Daphne was sleeping brought him out of his thoughts as she gradually emerged from a seemingly pleasant dream. Even as she fidgeted, she maintained the bright smile she had been showing since he himself woke up. The idea that she could be smiling like that for several hours wasn't that crazy, at least that's what he thought.
"Slept well?" he asked, seeing her blinking while yawning conspicuously.
"Like a baby," she said, turning her head slightly towards him. "I have never seen such a comfortable bed in my entire life."
"Yours must have been just as comfortable," he said, looking concerned. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to have a bed all to yourself?"
"No, finally… It's not the bed that I don't like; it's…"
"The room itself?" Harry finished. "I had the same reaction as you the first time I slept here, although I was still amazed by the ceiling ornaments. Of course, sleeping in a room the size of your living room must be confusing, and I understand you perfectly, but sooner or later, you will have to get used to the idea that we have to sleep in separate rooms..."
"Why?" she asked in a bitter voice. "Even though we're not married yet, my mom and dad sleep together, so we can start now!"
"It's not that simple," Harry replied, trying to calm her down. "I didn't mean to offend you, but Mother told me that polite people like us sleep in different rooms at times, and we might have to do the same when we grow up... Kings and Queens in Europe, for example, do not sleep together, even if for kings it is mainly because, in this way, they can use the secret passages of their castles to join their mistresses!"
"What is a mistress?" Daphne asked curiously, absentmindedly playing with one of her locks of hair.
Taken by surprise, Harry was unable to explain to her what these women were, at least without admitting that it was common among nobles to have affairs with women other than their spouse. His own mother had suffered a lot from it, and according to her, cheating on the woman you love by going to see someone else was absolutely disgusting. Even though for many people, he would soon become the son of the late Prince of Lamballe, Harry felt a great dislike for this man for his behavior and swore that he would never do the same thing to Daphne.
"I think we could find an arrangement," he finally said, avoiding the previous subject. "It can't be this bad to sleep together."
His response seemed to satisfy his fiancée, who smiled with pleasure while observing the canopy of the bed whose patterns she admired.
"I never imagined that you would sleep in such… flowery sheets," she declared in a teasing voice. "First the corset, then the flowers all over the bed... Tell me Harry, haven't you become effeminate?"
"Hey! I forbid you to question my… Um…"
"Virility?" she finished, seeing him frown.
"Yes, that's it! When I become a great soldier, you will never be able to doubt that again!"
"As long as you manage to get accepted into one of these schools," Daphne muttered, rolling her eyes. "I doubt they'll take boys who love flowers and women's clothing into their units!"
A blow from the cushion responded, quickly followed by tickles all over the surface of his body. Daphne screamed and begged him to stop, but nothing worked, and Harry was determined to put her through this terrible torture for as long as she doubted her future career choices.
"What do we say?" he asked, still tickling her.
"Pity! Pity! I apologize!" she exclaimed between two giggles. "Lord of Savoy and whatever you want, I beg you, leave me alone!"
"Would we disturb you during your little morning games, Master?" suddenly asked a voice coming from the entrance.
Taken by surprise, Harry quickly turned towards the source of this sound to note with dismay the presence of his two ladies of the chamber, standing in the doorway, each holding two breakfast trays, and each displaying a little teasing smile that had the gift of making him blush to the roots of his hair.
"Caught in the act, it seems," Martine said while the two children were correctly placed back on the bed, both red with shame. "We were wondering where Miss had gone when we noticed that she was not in her bed, but your cries quickly assured us that she had not gone far. You could wait a little longer before thinking about doing things reserved for adults, Master," she added as she opened the curtains of her windows after placing her tray on the first piece of furniture within reach.
"B-but we weren't doing anything," Harry stammered while Daphne tried to find out what was going on, her French not being at all good yet.
"We know that," Françoise reassured him, placing her lunch tray in front of him, "but anyone finding you above this young lady might have thought the opposite…"
This remark had the gift of making Harry blush even more. Daphne had no idea what the subject of the conversation was, but Harry's apparent embarrassment, when she noticed it, was enough to let her assume that it must not be very pleasant for him.
"Why are they here? And why do we eat in bed?" she asked, looking at the tray that Martine placed on her legs.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Harry breathed, slapping his forehead lightly. "So if you don't know them yet, here are Françoise and Martine, my ladies of the room and companions. They take care of me most of the time when I'm not busy with my classes like here where they bring me breakfast, they help me get dressed, do my hair, they drive me everywhere I go, and the rest of the time they maintain my apartments. As for why we eat in bed, in fact, it's a French practice which surprised me too at first, but you'll get used to it after a while. And then, it's quite nice to eat while lying in bed."
"I didn't know you were so lazy and lazy," Daphne said, arching an eyebrow.
Harry just shrugged his shoulders, surprised himself by this bad habit he had finally developed. His French side began to really emerge over time, and the little habits he had picked up in his old family began to slowly give way to those instilled in the aristocracy, both the good and the bad.
"We had the opportunity to see you yesterday but not yet to be able to chat with you, young lady," declared Martine, bowing slightly to her. "We couldn't wait to meet the young lady who made Prince Gabriel's heart capsize..."
Obviously, and just like Harry a few months earlier, Daphne did not understand the meaning of his words, but her fiancé acted as a translator for her, a translator who proved useful in keeping their conversation going. Although Daphne was surprised to see these two women being so attentive to her and treating her with a respect she was not accustomed to, the embarrassment soon disappeared from her face to give way to a look of joy and delight at the idea of getting to know them better.
"Have you heard from my mother?" he asked as he enjoyed a delicious croissant after his two ladies-in-waiting announced that they were starting to clean the room.
"Not really, we haven't seen her for a few weeks," Daphne admitted, looking dazedly at all the food on her tray. "They don't even imagine that I'm going to be able to eat all that!?"
"Oh no, it's just to know what you like and what you don't like. This way they will make you breakfast according to your wishes. I tried cheese for breakfast one day, but I have very bad memories of it…"
"Ah," she said simply, slightly moving the slices of cold meats from her bowl. "In any case, I will never eat this, nor that, even less that."
It soon became clear that Daphne abhorred anything that was not a traditional English breakfast, and only pastries and a few rashers of bacon survived her very selective sorting. Harry said nothing at this spectacle, even if inwardly he hoped that his fiancée would still try to get used to the traditions and dishes of this country so as not to offend his guests: Nothing better after all than to show one's attachment to the local cuisine to show his desire to acclimatize to his new homeland.
"Astoria doesn't go to your other mother anymore," Daphne suddenly said, carefully examining a rum baba.
"Why is that?" he asked curiously before returning his attention to the cake she was holding. "If I were you, I would avoid eating this; it's pretty bad and there's a little alcohol in it."
"How awful!" she whispered, putting the baba down as if it had suddenly burned her skin. "Who would think of putting alcohol in a cake!?"
"It's a Polish dish, well, it was invented for a Polish king, and mother often says that people in these countries often drink to stay warm, so maybe that's why. So, what happened to make Astoria no longer go to my mother's house? Did something happen?"
"Your father," Daphne replied simply, frowning slightly. "It happened shortly after the new year, actually, one day when she was visiting Rosie to spend the day with her. Besides, you'll never guess what your little sister did that day!"
"What?" Harry asked, already fearing some misfortune.
"She did accidental magic!"
To say Harry was surprised by this response was an understatement. Stunned, stunned, stunned, or even stunned would have been terms much more suited to the facial expression he showed. His sister was only... five years old, almost six now, and already showing signs of advanced magic while Matthew was incapable of it at the same age. As the good brother that he was, Harry was at least proud of Rosie, proud to have the chance to be the brother of a future prodigy, but also sad not to have been there to see her perform this prodigy and congratulate her for that. Once again, the absence of his other family resurfaced, less strong than before but the sadness of not having them near him was still there. Even though they now had a new family and another absolutely wonderful mother, Lily and Rosie were still two people in their own right that nothing could replace, and even after a year of not seeing them, Harry still couldn't wait to see them again and hug them.
But on the other hand, another feeling emerged in him when he thought of his mother: anger, although it was very minimal at the moment. Even though Lily wasn't going to pick him up from the orphanage until he was eleven, a little pang of disappointment still surfaced from time to time in his mind when he thought bitterly that his mother might have tried to give him back a visit at least once since his departure to check on him. The difficulty was obviously great, but just passing by to say hello did not take a lot of time either, time which she seemed to miss; otherwise, she would have already come directly to her second mother to find out in detail the reason for its adoption.
However, like every time he thought about that, Harry immediately became disgusted by his dark thoughts about Lily, especially knowing everything she did to prevent him from having an unhappy childhood with the Dursleys and with his own father; a courageous act on her part which did not deserve to be blamed for her absence but rather to be respected for the risks she took. Harry blamed this confusion on the lack he felt towards her and Rosie, even if that didn't explain everything. But long thoughts could wait for now.
"That's excellent news!" he exclaimed with a delighted air, making do with the thoughts he had just had. "I can't wait for her to show me what she can do. What exactly did she do?"
"She swirled dead leaves around her like butterflies. Astoria told me that it was absolutely beautiful to see, a very poetic vision that even made her want to write poetry about it... before remembering that she still didn't know how to write."
"That's her!" he chuckled under the curious looks of his two ladies-in-waiting. "But then... Why doesn't Astoria go there anymore? Did they argue?"
"No, no, in fact, it's mainly your father's fault," Daphne muttered darkly. "Apparently, their little game was making too much noise for him and disrupting your brother's training, so he left the mansion to reprimand them in his own way. Your mother and your godfather were there too, and fortunately…"
"What did he do?" Harry asked worriedly.
"That scumbag tried to slap Astoria!" she fumed, clenching her fists. "All because she continued to laugh even when she saw him approach. Dad was furious! He was on the verge of complaining to the Ministry when he found out, but since your mother stopped him from brutalizing my sister, he had no proof of what he was saying, and no one would dare believe that the "wonderful" father of the savior of the magical world was a man who was violent towards little girls…"
Harry didn't respond, but the anger had long since given way to the joy he had at the latest information about Rosie. Astoria may have been Daphne's sister, but to him, this little girl was like a sister, a little being just as fragile as Rosie whom he had made it his duty to protect. Although "Tory" was annoying and loud at times, he never would have imagined that James would have the nerve to try to lay a hand on her, especially since she wasn't related to him. His father's behavior disgusted him to the highest degree and the desire to say a few words to him and make him want to repeat this feat tempted him, or even to support Mr. Greengrass in his desire to make James pay for his misconduct by testifying himself about the abuse he had suffered in her presence.
His scars may have disappeared, but the more psychological ones still remained present in his mind, as did the after-effects resulting from the beatings he may have suffered. Seeing someone holding a belt in their hand was still one of those cases that could make him very uncomfortable, although the servants who knew his history tried to minimize as much as possible the scenes that could put him in this state.
Another thought briefly crossed his head, a thought about Rosie and Lily. What if James raised his hand against them now? After all, his favorite place to let off steam was now at the Dursleys, or so he thought, so there was nothing stopping him from taking out his nerves on someone else, especially if Matthew got involved. Imagining James hitting and assaulting Lily wasn't easy to do, but as for Rosie... knowing her character and her feelings towards him, it wasn't impossible that there would be disagreements between them, and that James doesn't end them by attacking her.
"Do you know if he goes after my mother and Rosie?" he asked dryly, also clenching his fists on his blanket.
"Not that I know of, but it seems he shook your sister a little that day before your mother stopped him. Since my parents learned of her behavior, they have forbidden Astoria from going there, and for his part, your father has decided that your mother's trips to our house will be limited from now on. Apparently he's trying to isolate her, at least that's what mom imagines. I've only seen your mother three times since January, but Rosie comes almost every Wednesday. She doesn't seem particularly unhappy in any case."
Harry preferred to trust his fiancée's opinion, even if he was not reassured. James was a complex character with an ambivalent temperament after all. In the eyes of society, he was the exemplary family man, brave, funny, and friendly, but in private, and according to those present, his personality changed and made him more hateful, petty, cruel. Lily and Rosie were alone now facing him, and the tyrant that he was could over time establish his domination over them. An intervention to get them out of this hell could be possible, and Harry internally promised himself to come to their aid at the slightest echo that might alert him.
Their breakfast continued in a rather heavy atmosphere, each mulling over the information that the other had provided or wondering about certain foods placed on their trays. Time progressed inexorably, and the initially timid rays of the sun had now largely invested Harry's room, illuminating the woodwork and the gilded moldings of the walls, under the indifferent eyes of Martine and Françoise, who continued their housework quietly. Occasionally, they questioned the two children present with them about their activities of the day or to find out more about Daphné and her favorite interests. She now seemed very comfortable in their company and even seemed delighted when she tried to speak to them, although her sentences mixing French and English generally made no sense.
"Now, I think it's time for your charming friend to go clean up," Martine decreed. "Madame said that she wanted him to try on the clothes from the second drawer," she added for Françoise, who simply nodded before quickly leaving the room.
"What is happening?" Daphne asked her when she saw the maid delicately take her wrist to lead her towards the bathroom.
"Oh, not much, just that you are going to be washed and dressed by these two women who will surely be happy to accomplish this task."
"What!? But… I know how to do it alone!"
"Oh, but you're not going to complain about being pampered like this anyway?" he said, crossing his arms behind his head and looking at her amusedly. "Let yourself do it for a few days only, and then you will tell them that you prefer to do it yourself afterwards; it would be disappointing for them to refuse the offer they make to you."
"But… Oh, and okay! Really, the life you lead is very strange all the same!"
Harry burst out laughing at this remark as Daphne now disappeared behind the bathroom door, curious but also worried about what was going to happen to her. Even though a stone wall now separated them, her fiancé was able to easily hear her exclamations and her little squeaks of surprise as Martine helped her with her toilet.
"Knowing her, I'm sure it will take a long time before she agrees to undress in front of her," he sighed, rolling his eyes.
And his expectations were largely met. Daphne spent the next five minutes stammering and refusing to let the servant help her undress, as if contact with her was not yet possible. However, this was before seeing the superb dress that Françoise brought back to her a few moments later, telling her that she would never be able to wear it if she did not take off her nightgown. The donkey and carrot principle worked perfectly, and Daphne complied obediently and willingly, even accepting to be washed without even being offended.
Preparing Daphne for the meal took almost as long as it did for Harry, or even longer, especially since being dressed like a little princess excited her enormously. She spent most of her time admiring herself in the bathroom mirror once she had finished washing, turning around to look at herself in every detail and proudly showing off the many baskets that were growing on her dress, while occasionally making comments about her little sister who would be "so jealous" to see her dressed like that.
Harry let her do it, amused by her behavior and above all melancholy as he himself remembered his first day in Lamballe and the joy he had in discovering his new clothes too. Just like him, Daphne was now discovering a world that was still foreign to her, a world in which she would have to get used to and prepare to live there for the rest of her life. Her fiancé simply hoped that she wouldn't become like those flirtatious women who only thought about money and clothes; otherwise, her patience would soon fail.
"Can we go now?" he asked for the fourth time as Daphne finished getting ready. "The meal is served at ten o'clock sharp, and I can't wait to eat."
"We've only just had breakfast," she replied absently, readjusting her corset. "You are a stomach on legs! Merlin, I hope you don't turn out like your brother; his waistline is as big as a pig's!"
"There's no risk!" Harry protested, hurt at being compared to his brother. "And if you don't know yet, it's been over an hour now since we finished our breakfast! I've had plenty of time to wash and dress while you continue to admire yourself in this mirror! That's how long you've been doing it!"
"Mom would be so happy to see me dressed like this!" Daphne enthused, looking at herself in the mirror once again, royally ignoring her fiancé's comments. "I look like one of my dolls!"
"Yes, we don't have time for this childishness anymore," he said, grabbing her arm to make her move forward. "The sooner we recharge, the sooner we can take our magic class, and I don't want to miss it."
"Really, Harry! How rude you can be at times!" she fumed as he dragged her towards the exit. "Don't you know that you shouldn't disturb a lady while she's dressing?"
"I only see a young fool already taking herself for an adult lady."
Their argument continued throughout the journey, under the both intrigued and amused eyes of the next two who, although not understanding a single word of their conversation, had the impression of having before them the little one's first domestic scene. princely couple. Finally, they managed to arrive in the traditional dining room, a rather empty room compared to the rest of the house and which was only composed of a large oval table, chairs, and a few ornaments on the walls. Harry also noticed that the family portrait he had made with Marie-Louise had once again landed here, installed above the fireplace while waiting for his mother to decide to move it once again.
"Here you are at last," she greeted them, signaling to the servants present to kindly remove the bells containing the dishes. "You look resplendent Daphne in this outfit," she added, immediately making the person concerned blush. "You were right, Elisabeth, it suits her perfectly."
"Pauline had almost the same figure at the same age," declared her friend, smiling melancholy as she thought back to this period. "But you will still have to find out about the latest creations from Paris soon. It's been years since I updated my wardrobe..."
"We'll see about that in due time," she offered, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. "Did you children sleep well?"
"Very well, mother," Harry replied, kissing his aunt in greeting. "At least, it would have been perfect if I hadn't had an unexpected visitor during the night."
"Did the company of your charming fiancée displease you, Gabriel?" Louise-Elisabeth asked as they both took their places around the table. "Less than a day since your reunion and already disappointed by her presence?"
"N-no! I didn't mean it like that!"
Although Harry denied himself from enjoying Daphne's company, the two adults preferred to laugh at his clumsiness and his pale attempts to prove that he was not already bored by her presence. Daphné did not understand their conversation and preferred instead to admire the dishes presented in front of them, dishes that she had never seen. Perhaps it was seeing his curious and confused look that Marie-Louise offered to present to him one by one the dishes laid out on the table, Harry preferring to discuss with his aunt the latest developments in his cousin's eventful sentimental life. left for a few days to visit a French army officer who pleased him.
"Bouba… Boulaba…"
"Bouillabaisse," she corrected patiently despite Daphne's efforts to memorize the name. "It is a typical dish from the south of France, a specialty that is generally found around Marseille and its region. You should try it, it's very good! I would also recommend the cheese fondue with fresh truffles, a pure masterpiece of gastronomy."
"Would you like to introduce Daphné to regional dishes in a single mother meal?" Harry asked him mockingly, using the Beuchelle*. "I'm not sure his stomach can hold everything on the table."
"That's what I kept telling him," added Louise-Elisabeth while her mother took on a slight pinkish tint. "You now know your mother Gabriel well; she does as she pleases."
Despite everything, Daphné chose to honor her hosts by taking a small part of each dish, but which allowed her to have a reasonable quantity of food to eat. Moreover, it soon appeared that andouillette de Troyes, strips of pork organs cooked in a flavored court-bouillon and garnished with a few onions, was his favorite dish, even though its unappetizing appearance hardly inspired him with confidence at the beginning.
"You have very… royal tastes," breathed Louise-Elisabeth as she saw her greedily eating this dish. "Some of our monarchs loved this dish, although to be honest with you, I never dared to try it."
"You should, it's really delicious! You just have to adapt to the taste!"
"Tell us a little about yourself, Daphne," she asked him, watching with a fond look as Harry politely reprimanded his fiancée about the fact that you shouldn't talk with your mouth full. "Gabriel never stops saying good things about you, but we haven't yet had the opportunity to know in detail who the real Daphne Greengrass is."
"What do you want to know?" she asked, looking at Harry strangely. "I wonder what you could have said to them," she added to him while her fiancé preferred to look down shyly at his plate.
"Well, tell us what you like, your passions, and your everyday activities! I suppose you don't stay in your room all day waiting for the day to end?"
"Oh no, well sometimes the urge is great, but mom continually reminds me to order. So I really like reading, but especially when it's Harry... I mean Gabriel, who reads me stories because he always adds an anecdote to what he reads to me. Besides, it was thanks to him that I learned about the fables of Jean de la Fontaine. I do sewing too, but it's mainly because my mother taught me. Personally, I find it boring... I also like painting, but I am far from having the talent of the gentlemen who painted your entire castle and your paintings."
"As for the paintings, it was a woman who made them for me," Marie-Louise told her, gesturing to the one that adorned one of the walls of the room. "This one represents your fiancé and myself, made a few months ago and shortly after Gabriel's physical transformation. It's a painting that has immense sentimental value for me."
"She keeps changing rooms, let's say... three times a week," Harry informed her, leaning slightly towards her. "She can't decide whether to hang it permanently on a wall. She prefers to have him continually in front of her eyes, making the servants run everywhere to fulfill her desires."
A light kick in the shin responded to his whispers, and the person responsible was not very difficult for him to find because as he turned his head towards his mother, Harry had the unpleasant surprise of seeing her glaring at him, a look so frightening in her which generally encouraged her to go sailing on calmer waters.
"Don't make fun of Gabriel," she lectured him briefly under Daphne's mocking sniffles. "You too would be happy at the simple sight of this painting when you waited more than thirty years for the opportunity to pose with your son."
"Thirty years?" Daphne repeated, looking at her curiously. "But... Y-you look like you're the same age as my mom!"
"I am an expert in developing cosmetics aimed at making me look like a young woman, but the truth is, I am heading towards my forty-ninth birthday in September."
"A respectable age," added Louise-Elisabeth as she picked from her plate. "Many people dream of being able to reach this age. You should know, my children, that an individual generally lives around fifty years in our time, and even if he remains in good health, she informed them, noting their confused faces. You are already considered an old person at the age of thirty, and let's not talk about the rare cases that reach the age of seventy..."
"My mother always tells me that we must enjoy our life while there is still time, and above all that it be rich in adventures and adventures so that once we are old we can have no regrets about it when we think about it. Life is a gift given to us, and it is up to us to make sure it remains extraordinary until the end."
A heavy silence accompanies her diatribe, and Daphne ultimately regretted having opened her mouth to express her way of thinking, at least... that of her mother which she shared all the same.
"Your mother is a very wise woman Daphné," breathed Louise-Elisabeth, finally breaking this awkward silence for her. "It's a very beautiful way of seeing our life and what we can make of it through our actions and our decisions. I have no doubt that the Enlightenment philosophers would have been delighted to discuss this subject with her if given the opportunity."
"I'll tell her when I see her again," she muttered shyly, lowering her head towards her plate. "Dad says she could have written theses in the Daily Prophet to change a little from the articles you can currently read there. I suggested he do a whole page on dolls, but he said that no one would be interested and that he didn't work for the newspaper anyway... Do you think no one cares about that?"
The two adults just looked at each other for a few seconds, each trying to find an answer that would not displease Daphne while Harry suppressed the urge to snicker by concentrating as best he could on the contents of his plate.
"Oh but we would have absolutely loved to know more about these charming little dolls!" Marie-Louise finally replied. "Who wouldn't be, let's see?"
This answer must certainly have suited him because Daphne simply smiled beamingly at him, delighted to have at least two people sharing her passion for them.
"So much the better then, because I have thirty-six, and I have never had the opportunity to present them all to someone! I'll bring them back next time!"
Another hour later, and after a long presentation on each of the dolls Daphne owned, the meal was finally over, and digestion could finally begin for them. Marie-Louise suggested that Harry take advantage of this moment to show Daphne the castle gardens, at least a small part of it while she herself prepared the lesson she was about to give them in an hour. . The rose gardens and other amenities extended over several hectares of land, and one day was probably not enough to show him everything, so Harry was content to introduce him to "the Duchess's garden", a flowerbed of flowers and sculptures located behind the castle and the small neighboring farm in which Harry and his mother devoted themselves from time to time to gardening and feeding the few animals there.
Daphne, startled by the sudden call, blushed and quickly stepped into the library, feeling slightly embarrassed. The vast collection of books and the ambiance of the room left her in awe. Harry led her to a comfortable pair of armchairs near a large wooden table where Marie-Louise was already seated with an assortment of parchments and quills.
"Good, you're here," Marie-Louise greeted them with a warm smile. "I hope you enjoyed the garden, Daphne. It's one of my favorite places in the castle."
"Oh, yes! It's beautiful, and Bucephalus is such a sweetheart," Daphne replied, her eyes still wide with excitement.
"I'm glad you liked it. Now, let's get down to business," Marie-Louise said, gesturing for them to take a seat.
For the next hour, Marie-Louise delved into various magical theories and practical exercises. She explained the basics of wand movements, the importance of focus and intent, and the significance of proper pronunciation of spells. Daphne, being completely new to the magical world, absorbed the information with eagerness, occasionally glancing at Harry to make sure she was following correctly.
Harry, on the other hand, was engaged in the lesson as well, but his attention was divided. He couldn't help but admire Daphne's curiosity and her determination to learn. The library was filled with the hushed sounds of parchment rustling, quills scratching, and Marie-Louise's gentle explanations.
As the lesson progressed, Marie-Louise demonstrated a few simple spells, creating small sparks of light and levitating small objects. Daphne's eyes widened with amazement, and she eagerly attempted to replicate the spells. Under Marie-Louise's patient guidance, she managed to produce her first sparks.
Harry, while familiar with these spells, couldn't help but feel a sense of pride witnessing Daphne's magical journey beginning. It was a reminder of his own early days in Lamballe, learning magic with Marie-Louise.
Towards the end of the lesson, Marie-Louise shared stories of her own magical education, emphasizing the importance of practice and perseverance. She encouraged both Harry and Daphne to explore magic not just as a set of skills but as a form of expression and creativity.
As the lesson concluded, Marie-Louise praised Daphne's progress and assured her that she would improve with time and practice. Daphne beamed with joy, and Harry couldn't hide his own satisfaction at seeing his fiancée embrace the magical world with such enthusiasm.
"Thank you, Marie-Louise. I can't wait to learn more," Daphne exclaimed.
"You're most welcome, my dear. Magic is a lifelong journey, and I'm excited to guide you on this path," Marie-Louise replied, her eyes twinkling with genuine delight.
The trio left the library, the magical glow still lingering in the air. Harry and Daphne chatted animatedly about the lesson as they strolled through the castle corridors, their friendship deepening with each shared experience.
Daphne didn't need to be told twice, and upon entering the library, she seized the opportunity to deliver a light blow to Harry's shoulder as a sign of revenge for his mocking tone towards her. Far from being angered by her action, her fiancé accompanied her to the center of the room where Marie-Louise was, leaning over what seemed to be a thick book placed on a desk, itself installed on a sort of wooden platform accessed by a very small staircase of only three steps.
"We apologize for the delay, Mother, but we took a slight detour to the stables to feed the animals."
"No need to apologize; you've arrived just as I'm finishing the work I've been focused on for a few weeks!"
"What is this?" Harry asked, taking a seat near her at the table he usually used for studying.
"A practical way to help us find the books we need more quickly. Do you see the one installed on this desk?"
"How could you not notice it?" Daphne breathed, looking at him. "It's alone in the center of a huge room, and there's nothing around..."
"That's correct, Daphne, but I didn't want to talk about its disposition. The book placed on it is different from the others for the simple reason that it is completely devoid of the slightest writing, despite the many pages it contains. However, it was not intended to be read but to guide you on which book to read. All you have to do is write down a word or term on one of its pages that you want to understand, and all the books mentioning it will light up, thanks to the runes that I have installed on each of them."
"But… There must be more than a thousand books here!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes widening. "That must have taken you a lot of time!"
"A few weeks, to be exact, but the result was worth it. Take a look for yourself... Today, our lesson will be a little special and will be devoted to emotions and Occlumency. Therefore, if I write these two words in this register, all the books mentioning them will shine and allow me to escape hours of tedious research."
She did so immediately, and in less time than it took, a dozen books began to glow, books that she was happy to bring to their table with a flick of her magic wand.
"It's… It's incredible!" Daphne stammered as she saw the volumes placed carelessly in front of her. "What a brilliant idea, ma'am!"
"Thank you, Daphne, but please call me Marie-Louise or my aunt; the term 'madam' makes me feel like an old lady."
Daphne simply nodded while Marie-Louise took her turn sitting around their work table.
"We can start then," she said, taking the first book from the pile. "What did we see last time, Gabriel?"
"Blood and its use in magical rituals and ceremonies, as well as its other uses for certain branches of magic such as potions or runes."
"How far have we reached in your course?" she asked, absently analyzing the cover of the textbook she was holding.
"Runic symbols requiring a few drops of our blood and the legislation regarding the use of these runes. Besides, I can't remember the Scottish Gaelic term for the word fire..."
"'Gabhail' or 'Gabhaltas,' it depends on the regions which formerly designated it. The rune invoking fire is one of the most dangerous to handle, Gabriel, and its use remains highly discouraged. The symbol that you must trace with your blood must be absolutely perfect; otherwise, the fire thus invoked will be of the same origin as the curse of the demon, uncontrollable."
Daphne listened to them talk without daring to enter their conversation. In any case, the subject discussed was, by her own admission, far too fascinating and complicated for her to make the slightest sound, especially since the other two had taken the trouble to speak in English so that she could understand as well. Runes weren't really a subject she enjoyed; in fact, quite the opposite. Rumors often said that this course was boring and soporific, but, explained by Marie-Louise, it suddenly became very interesting, and she was already looking forward to knowing more about it.
"... Add this to the wind rune or 'fosgladh,' and you will be able to control this fire as you wish and give it the shape you want, whether it is a sword of fire or even a tornado, for example. It all depends on the amount of fire that is available to you. Learn all the known terms for the following five runes, including Celtic, Breton, Cornish, Welsh, and Irish Gaelic, and their functions while I attend to your bride."
"Good mother," Harry replied, immediately burying his nose in the book placed in front of him.
"Now, Daphne, as I told you yesterday, I am going to teach you to develop your abilities in magic thanks to the bond that unites you to my son," she began, turning towards her. "Gabriel will also work during our sessions because it will be partly thanks to him that you will be able to progress in your work."
"How is it possible?" she asked, looking curiously at Harry's mother. "How can a simple magical link allow him to transmit magic to me?"
"This is a very good question, and I will try to answer your questions as best I can. First of all, know that normally, the marriage contract binds two people through a link going from the magical core of one of the spouses to the other, and that this link is indestructible as long as the contract is not canceled. Normally, apart from the fact that this makes you very empathetic and that you can feel the strong emotions that can appear in Gabriel, you normally have no other advantage from this, but Gabriel knew how to exploit this link to the point of being able to make you benefit from his reserves of magic. We haven't tried it yet, but I think it will be a formality that he is likely to have already completed."
"His emotions?" Daphne repeated, looking confused. "But… Oh wait, you mean all the times I've been happy, sad, or angry for no reason, it's because Harry was too?"
"Exactly, and you will have to work on this if you do not want to suffer the vagaries of these emotions. For example, it would be surprising if you were happy at a funeral or sad on a birthday..."
Briefly imagining herself bursting out laughing at the funeral of one of her family members, Daphne couldn't help but shudder in horror at the mere thought of the reactions those around her would have to her behavior. Seen like this, learning to be in control of her emotions seemed to be essential for her.
"So I should learn the occluded… Oh, I never remember that word!"
"Occlumency," Marie-Louise informed him patiently. "Yes, you will have to learn it, but you will see that it is all a question of will and motivation. You will also have to carry out numerous meditation sessions to teach you how to close your mind to external intrusions but also to know how to control the flow of emotions that Gabriel could transmit to you. No one uses this method, but sending emotions through this link to the other person can be a way of communicating with them, alerting them, for example, when you are in danger."
"It's very ingenious," she admitted thoughtfully.
"We will start now if you want," Marie-Louise suggested, leaning slightly towards her. "As with occlumency, empty your mind and above all think about absolutely nothing. This step is very similar to meditation and will allow you to delve into your subconscious so that you too can find and exploit the connection that unites you with Gabriel. Close your eyes first; it will help you."
As with Harry a few months earlier, Daphne did exactly what Princess de Lamballe recommended, although it took her a long time to achieve the same result. Just like him, the void gathered around her, and Marie-Louise's voice was the only thing she cared about from now on. The darkness surrounding him frightened him somewhat, and the desire to postpone this meditation session crept like poison into his veins, but a sudden feeling of warmth and comfort assailed him immediately for some reason she couldn't explain at the time. However, that was before hearing Harry's voice speaking in the distance:
"She is panicked, but I tried to reassure her by sending her positive emotions…"
"You did well, Gabriel. I am proud of you," Marie-Louise replied in the same way. "It's amazing to see that she is capable of transmitting emotions to you without even having yet encountered the magical bond uniting you. I guess it will be very easy to teach him to master it…"
Even if hearing them discuss as if she couldn't listen to them seemed strange to her, she was nevertheless happy and, above all, reassured to see that Harry was also working to help her progress in her lessons and, above all, to show her that he was simply there for her, as he had told her in the stables previously. The session continued more leisurely, even though Daphne felt like she was going in circles. However, her magical core was finally within sight after a while. Unlike Harry, her core didn't glow as brightly as his and didn't give off a feeling of raw power... Her core was actually quite normal.
"Hey? Is there someone!?" she exclaimed, looking up at what could have been the ceiling of her mind... but was just as black as the rest. "What do I do now?"
"What do you see, Daphne?" Marie-Louise asked her.
"A weird shape that shines a lot. This is my magical core, isn't it?"
"Yes, what is it like? Describe it to me."
"Well, it shines, but it seems to dim at times, like a fire about to go out... And it doesn't look very huge; I mean, I was expecting it to be bigger. It's barely my height..."
"It's completely normal, Daphne," she reassured her in a soothing tone. "Your core is only beginning to truly expand and channel your magic. As you grow, you will find that it grows with you and takes up more space within you. The first signs of this development will not be difficult to recognize since it is simply the accidental magic that you will display."
"Oh… I'm reassured," she breathed with relief. "I thought I had the same magical core as a Squib."
A light, crystalline laugh was heard before Marie-Louise gave her the few instructions she wanted her to follow to carry out her little task. The first was to locate the link that attached her to Harry's core, which only took her a few seconds. The link looked like a tiny tube made of magic as white as snow and seemed to be in constant motion, extending as far as her sight would allow. The second task, just as easy, consisted of simply grabbing or, failing that, touching this thin strip of pure magic to establish contact with it, which she did immediately. A sudden shiver ran through her as soon as her skin came into contact with the link, but apart from the fact that she had the sensation that the magic circulating inside her was wandering around inside her without stopping, nothing extraordinary happened— at least, nothing extraordinary.
"Now try to convey an emotion through this link, no matter what it is. Just think of something very strong for you, a happy or sad memory, a moment that would have frightened or greatly amused you during your life."
Here again, the ease was disconcerting for her, and in no time, the choice fell on her very first meeting with Harry, a day that even today made her still aware of the turning point that her life had had at that time. Fear of the future, joy at the idea of having met Harry, anxiety about the marriage contract... All the emotions went through her head when she thought about it, but the strongest was undoubtedly happiness because this day had quite simply been an unforgettable and wonderful day for her. Daphne tried her best to show how much this day meant to her and the serenity that came from it, although she also thought about how she would look particularly stupid if her attempt didn't work.
"Goodness, Daphne, just a little longer and I'll almost cry with joy," Harry said in a voice just as distant as earlier.
"Come back to yourself," Marie-Louise ordered him. "We're done for today."
Daphne didn't need to be told twice, but as she returned to the real world, a sudden fatigue set in, and it was just a matter of time before she collapsed into her chair.
"Merlin… I feel so… exhausted…," she breathed before eagerly drinking the glass of water that Harry's mother had just made appear.
"You've done the hardest part, Daphne. Another week of work, and you won't even need to immerse yourself in a meditative state for so long."
"How long did I stay like this?" she asked in a curious voice.
"About… an hour and thirty minutes," Harry informed her, looking at the clock installed a few meters away. "You did worse than me!"
"It's my first time!" she replied more harshly than she wanted. "I'm just starting to learn magic!"
It was only then that Daphne noticed that Harry's eyes were strangely bright, as if... he had been crying.
"You cried?" she asked him, observing his face.
"Your emotions are very strong," he said simply, closing his rune book. "Mother asked me to lower my occlumency barriers to gauge the power of your emotions, and I must admit that I was not disappointed. I wonder what you could have thought of that could make you so happy..."
"Ah, nothing," she said hurriedly, looking away, visibly embarrassed. "Nothing at all!"
Harry was tempted to ask for more information, but a simple look from his mother made him understand that he should not force his fiancée to tell him any of her secrets.
"We will resume this lesson tomorrow if you don't mind, my dear," Marie-Louise informed her, carefully putting the books back in their original location, this time using wandless magic. "Considering the state you are in at the moment, it would be risky to dive back into exploring your subconscious without completely exhausting yourself."
"So, we're done with classes for the rest of the day?" she asked with a slight hint of disappointment.
"Oh God, no! For the next few hours, you will be following very interesting training in the company of Gabriel…"
"What is it?" she said excitedly.
"A crash course in good manners and etiquette," Harry replied, getting up from his chair. "I am currently learning the different ways to greet a person depending on their status and rank, before moving on to geography and mathematics. As for you, well... Maybe she will teach you to walk correctly and not in the same way as an ox escaped from its enclosure."
"Harry James Potter! You will pay for what you just said!" she cried, chasing him out of the library. "I walk as gracefully as you, and even more!"
Marie-Louise watched them leave the room in astonishment, unable to say the slightest word or even reproach them for their behavior. They were, after all, only children, and even the greatest lessons in etiquette could not make the immature reactions of young people of that age disappear. And then, Daphne's presence had brought something to the castle that she had just discovered existed only now: A bit of madness, accompanied by laughter and... simply joy. Even during the Delacours' stay, she had not felt this way, although Gabrielle was still an adorable little girl full of life who brightened everyone's mood with her mere presence.
But now Lamballe Castle was truly coming to life, and her son had not looked so happy in a long time. For how much longer? That was the question, but for the moment, she preferred not to think about it. Seeing her son happy was enough for her own happiness, and if Daphne was the cause, then she would try to keep her close to Harry as often as she could.
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