Parole, Interrupted.
"So, Hermione, hypothetically," asked Harry. "Have you got a plan to just put Malfoy in Azkaban?"
Daphne smiled at Hermione, next to him on their couch.
"What's… I thought we were , Harry going to talk about… stuff." said Hermione, fidgeting on the other couch.
"Oh," said Daphne taking a deep breath. "Harry needs his hand held to talk about sex stuff. Fortunately, he's married. So I'm holding his hand, and well, offering another witches' perspective. I'm not saying I know what's going on. Harry can't really talk about it."
"I can't…. I couldn't say," said Hermione, blushing.
"He wouldn't put his tongue there?" asked Daphne "I can easily take that one of two ways. The obvious implication; that he refuses to perform cunnilingus… well that's an obvious disappointment, but maybe you could both work something out."
"It's not that," said Hermione, face flushing further. "It wasn't… like that at all!"
"Oh. Right. Well, no need to say." said Daphne, "You are aware of how to… prepare for that? You weren't trying to get him into Scat were you?"
"God no!" said Hermione indignantly.
"As one witch to another, my mother said, never let a wizard put his wand anywhere he won't put his lips," said Daphne.
Hermione went even pinker in the face, then snorted. "Really? When?"
"Our wedding reception," said Daphne blandly.
"But you two…" said Hermione, looking faintly ill.
"It would be very neat to say we put off the exotic stuff till we were married," said Daphne.
"It would," said Harry hastily.
"Grimmauld place," said Daphne. "Will forever hold a special place in my heart."
"So you…."
"We were kids." said Daphne. "In a room at the Leaky, and hadn't read Sirius Black's porn collection."
"I will never know how the long story ended," said Harry sarcastically. "For all I know there really was an erotic secret in the last page."
"The one with the bondage or the one with the hamster?" asked Daphne deadpan.
"Animals are wrong," said Harry piously.
"Oh and Granger, if you were wondering, Harry is very reluctant to use a flogger, but oh god it winds me up." said Daphne.
Hermione's eyes grew large as saucers. "Oh my god. You're perverts!" she exclaimed.
"Don't be a hypocrite." said Daphne. "If that's a hard no from him, then you have to work out if that's a thing you can live without. You and Viktor Krum then?"
"What? Victor's just a friend." said Hermione. "I just… all I wanted was a bit of give and take."
"Hmm" said Daphne "See Harry, I was right."
"This is Daphne," said Harry. "She's a very naughty girl on occasion, and I love her. And as you know, when faced with yelling people, she's not brave at all."
"Not everyone is a troll-slayer like Granger," said Daphne. "Anyway, we were talking, and I mentioned that Pansy used to … ugh. Brag about what she got up to in dorms. Graphically."
"Ew." said Hermione.
"Well, then she started washing and washing," said Daphne.
"Okay, what I was thinking was that Harry's got the wand registered to Draco. If it were to fail a wand check… parole violation, and … hello Azkaban," said Hermione.
"You're so lucky she was on your side," said Daphne. "Why do you have his wand?"
"It's a long story," said Harry.
"Conveniently we're married, that's a long time," said Daphne.
Harry explained, well the wand bit.
"Huh. Who else knows?"
"Ron. He'd have no beef with Malfoy in prison," said Hermione.
"Just throwing an idea out there?" asked Daphne "Who gets control of the assets if there are no Malfoys not in Azkaban?"
"His aunt is alive. Bellatrix's and Naricssa's sister; she's nice. Her daughter's an Auror." said Harry.
"Oh", said Daphne. "Sounds like a nice lady."
"Tonks has a baby." said Hermione.
"Even better," said Daphne. "Baby shower present."
"I wasn't trying to get Ron to do bum stuff!" said Hermione hurriedly.
Daphne lifted her eyebrows, and Harry could only blink. Hermione's face was scarlet.
"He always said he liked the … smell of my sweat" said Hermione hurriedly.
"And?"
"I was… quite sweaty, so I just suggest he might… lick my armpit?"
"Shaven or unshaven?" asked Daphne.
"What?"
"Right. No you simply can't keep him. Gods' Harry licks me like a ice-lolly once we're sweaty."
Harry flickered on the spot, nearly disapparating even under the Hogwarts anti-apparation protections.
Once Hermione had fled Daphne said, "Oh god. I feel… so embarrassed."
"You feel embarrassed. We were talking about… stuff." said Harry. "And all she wanted was licks."
Daphne snuggled over "Any man that won't lick up sweat he wrings from a witch is just horrid." she said.
"Oh god. Oh god. And you talked about the whipping. Hermione will think we're massive deviants. You didn't mention that it was a novelty foam rubber whip," said Harry.
"It still winds me up. And … at least it sounds braver than 'we play with what are basically kids toys."
Harry wrapped both arms around her and settled in for a combination sulk and cuddle. He'd developed multitasking skills.
"We still ended up leaving champagne bottles on the piano, Harry, the shellac is just ruined," said Daphne. "And I'm quite sure I ruined the mechanism playing the strings with the bottles."
"It sounded cool," said Harry. They had both been drunk, and silly, and Harry knew the parquet floor had also been damaged by the open champagne bottles that fell over. And with a wince of memory, he suspected he might have cracked one of the marble fireplaces when they'd started to get cold, and he'd used an overpowered lamp-lighting charm to light it. There had been a number of bad decisions that night.
"Regardless, the poor piano will need loads of work to be put right. Perhaps we should get a harp," said Daphne. "That would sound largely the same."
"How would you sit on a harp to shag?" asked Harry "I mean, how tall are harps anyway?"
Daphne just shook her head. Honestly, some husbands.
"I've got an idea," said Daphne after lunch the next day, on the way to Transfiguration.
"What?"
"We should go to newsagent and get a magazine," said Daphne.
"A magazine?"
"To replace the one Granger incinerated," said Daphne.
"Um. Can we not leave it on the coffee table?" asked Harry.
"Fine, only in the bedroom dear," said Daphne.
Ron had evidently overheard some of that, as he was red-faced all lesson, and wouldn't speak to Harry for the rest of the day.
Daphne's 'get a magazine' idea morphed into going to the nearest town to where she lived, as she knew where there was a newsagent, and they'd had rows of magazines behind the counter.
They'd stopped to review the plan on the high street.
"So I go in, ask for a … men's magazine and that's right?" asked Harry, already blushing.
"Oh dear." said Daphne, kissing him on his pink cheeks. "You are in no fit state to do that. I shall… boldly do it. I'm married to the bravest man in the world, you know."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course" said Daphne, striding bravely over to the shop and going in. She came out ten minutes later, carrying a paper bag. She and Harry decamped to a park.
"Wow. You're really brave" said Harry as they walked.
"I'm really not. I'm such a coward," said Daphne.
She was very honest, thought Harry, as he examined 'Non-threatening Boy Magazine'
"It's just… I got in the shop and saw them and I lost my nerve. Sorry dear. Maybe one day I'll be brave."
"Well, clearly disguises," said Harry, who knew some disguise spells. Well, sort of.
Daphne instead went to a nearby non-magical joke shop and bought a kit, applied wrinkles with the aid of a had-mirror and added grey to her hair.
"How do I look?" she said. Harry was tempted to say, 'like your mum only prettier'.
"You're wearing the same clothes." he said practically.
A quick trip to the loos and Daphne had colour-changed her entire outfit, a stroll through a second-hand clothes store and she added a raincoat. Harry wondered if Daphne would look like this at fifty. If that was the case, he'd be the smug bastard next to her with messy hair and expensive glasses.
Daphne went back to the newsagent, and came back out rather quickly, lugging a larger bundle.
The look on her face was… well the makeup made it hard to tell. She needed help with the bundle.
Harry took the, that must be half a dozen magazines at least, and Daphne walked off extremely quickly to a park, where they found a spot behind a bamboo to apparate away. To the Shrieking Shack.
"Oh god," said Daphne, "It was awful."
"You got an armload." said Harry, wondering.
"I went into the shop and he said "Morning Mrs Greengrass, got your bundle."
Harry looked down at the bundle. "Your mum gets magazine subscriptions. Muggle ones!"
"I had no idea. I have literally spent most of my adult life at Hogwarts, you know."
"So, um, we drop it off at your parents house," said Harry. "What do you think is in it?"
"Harry, she'll know. She knows she didn't."
"Confundus charm. Piece of cake." said Harry confidently.
"Oh god. I'm going to confound my poor dear mother," said Daphne.
Harry, meanwhile had carefully opened the taped-shut bundle, and take out… six magazines in plain paper covers.
"So all magazines come in wrappers then?" said Daphne. Harry, hands shaking opened one and what slid out was. Well, it bloody well wasn't a gardening magazine.
"Oh Merlin's balls!" exclaimed Daphne.
"It's um German, I suppose it's special order." said Harry.
"How could she!" said Daphne. "She's my mother!"
Harry eyed the other five subscriptions. His curiosity won over.
"Well, they all seem to be in German," said Harry, eyeing the brightly coloured covers under the clear plastic.
"She can read German," said Daphne. "I know we're married but. I'm not ready for that sort of thing."
"Clearly your mum is," Harry retorted. He could never look at her mum the same way again.
Daphne decided to 'come clean' by just going to visit her mum.
"Honestly mummy! Baby magazines! Knitting patterns! Nursery decoration magazines! Better Pregnancies and childbirths!"
"My oldest daughter is a married woman and one day, hopefully while I can still enjoy them, I will be a grandmother," said her mother.
"You didn't open them did you?" asked her dad.
"No. Still sealed for your enjoyment" said Daphne.
Once Daphne and Harry had left, Cyrus sighed. "No chance of a grandchild before you're sixty then."
"Hush you."
"Daphne went in to get… something graphic," said Cyrus.
"She's a married woman, Cyrus. And that boy's always blushing."
"He's English!" said Cyrus.
"Of course it was Daphne that went to get it. Disguising herself as a middle-aged woman." said Daphne's mum.
"I was worried for a second that Potter had done some sort of dark magic on her. Spent her youth."
"Well, let's put some Chopin on and enjoy the new magazines shall we?"
-=0=-
Daphne went to a random Newsagent in Bath and picked up a copy of "Mayfair."
Harry apparated her back to the Shrieking shack, and she washed off her disguise with conjured water in a conjured bowl. Harry conjured towels.
"Right, Mayfair" she said, and they stole back to Hogwarts, the magazine rolled up in her raincoat pocket.
When they were in their bedroom, Daphne sat on the bed and opened the magazine up. And gasped. Harry looked. It wasn't like the last one. "Oh. That's... a thing now is it?"
Daphne turned a page. Harry gulped.
By the end of the magazine Daphne was biting her lower lip. "This is quite different to the other one."
"It was um, a nineteen sixties vintage." said Harry.
"You don't want me to… " and Daphne pantomimed a ridiculous chest.
"God no, I think that unnatural stuff is… unnatural." said Harry.
"Do you think Granger's seen the inside of one of these recently?" asked Daphne.
"Daph!" exclaimed Harry "She's already traumatised by the talk we did."
"Well, clearly shaving is… considered de rigueur" said Daphne. "If she'd just bought a porn mag, Weasley would never have complained about her armpit hair."
"Don't start. She'd lose her mind," said Harry. "I mean… ruddy hell."
"Well, it's not like earrings are that unusual." said Daphne, winking.
"What would your mum say!" said Harry.
"God, I hate to think." said Daphne. "She'd probably say tattoos look silly as you get older."
"Sirius has runic tattoos." said Harry "I think they do something or other."
"Probably say 'I can't read runes, and I'm a stupid teen' in old Norse" said Daphne. She giggled.
Harry reopened the magazine and started reading a letter, to stop, snorting "Oh my god. That's the stupidest thing I've ever read."
He handed the mag to Daphne and pointed. She frowned, and then scoffed "Whoever writes these, they put more effort in, in the sixties. God. Pansy could write for this rag."
Harry frowned "Pansy?"
"Like I said. Long graphic recitations." said Daphne.
"Very graphic?"
"Annoyingly, and she kept saying thingy."
"Instead of. And she was shagging Malfoy?"
"Being shagged. And… used." said Daphne. "He really is an utter twat."
"I really don't like her but… god. Yeah, he can go snog Dementors." said Harry. He hesitated "Did … Malfoy let Crabbe and Goyle?"
"Pansy never said," said Daphne, more sharply. "But she got to a stage of just washing and washing."
"Why is he such a shitty human being?" asked Harry.
"Is that a rhetorical question?" asked Daphne "I think he despised Pansy for, well, deciding to sleep her way into his family money. But when she started dating him she was all Draco this Draco that. I think she was a bit in love with him and thought it was all going to work out."
"So she just… is that the story of her sodding life? She just ends up in over her head?"
"That's Malfoy." said Daphne. "Pansy simply didn't care about anyone else, and wanted to get hers. But surprise, surprise, he was a shittier person than her."
"Did you know her when she was little?"
"Course. Distantly, her family are ever so important. A few visits in my teens. Her mums' like, this little blonde lady lying on chaise, then she talks, and she's suddenly this really Scottish smoker. Always hoarse."
"She's Scottish?"
"Ari MacDonald. She's a long-time friend of Narcissa Malfoy." said Daphne "Fashion and shopping. Mrs Parkinson seemed amazingly sophisticated when I was fourteen."
"And?"
"She spends most days drinking on a couch, or smoking," said Daphne. "And reliving her lost youth."
"And her dad?"
"What do you expect?" said Daphne. "Rich, corrupt, blood bigot, joined the club for the perks, went down in the war."
"I'm not saying having shitty parents excuses her," said Harry thoughtfully "But my cousin Dudley, he's a bully, and he was spoiled his whole life. Can't be bothered ever thinking. Kind of, imagine Crabbe only … well, a muggle."
"Huh," said Daphne, "I can see why you don't keep in touch."
"Well and by the time I left he was a small-scale drug dealer," admitted Harry.
"How are you this nice?" asked Daphne.
"I'm not that nice."
"Yes you are. Liar," said Daphne.
Harry woke the next day cruelly used. As a body-pillow. Which sounds great in theory, but he couldn't feel his thigh even after his shower. And Daphne was in the habit of 'plumping' pillows in her sleep. Harry winced. He was a big strong wizard. Those ribs weren't actually broken, and besides' he'd had Hermione hugs for years. It had toughened him up, he told himself.
Operation 'Put Malfoy in prison' obviously couldn't be done just any old time. There was critical timing. The day his parole officer came to check on him at Hogwarts, along with all the other parolees. Well, all four of them.
Obviously, Malfoy knew when that was scheduled, so timing his old wand's reappearance required going through Malfoy's trunk. Fortunately, Harry had an invisibility cloak and a rather spiffy Elder wand he got in a fight with some old bald guy.
Malfoy's trunk, as Harry opened it, smelt of hair-gel. Harry rolled his eyes. And of course, the entire left corner of the trunk was a stack of hair-gel jars. What a loser. The rest of his trunk was disturbingly orderly. Like, was Malfoy even a bloke, orderly. Who actually rolls their socks into balls and makes sure the tops are straight? Or folds their pants. The only person he knew as fussy about trunks was Hermione, and that put a smile on his face. Either of them could be horrified to know that they were both fussy packers. There was even a calendar on the inside of the lid of the trunk, in a clear sleeve. (Which had the parole officer dates, but Harry was having a snoop.)
And Malfoy had a diary. Harry cast ten different curse detection charms on it, and it had nothing magical about it.
Harry, obviously, rifled through it. The front page had, in neat copperplate that this dairy belonged to Draco Sylvanus Malfoy, and some family motto in Latin. In much less neat writing at the bottom of the same page in red it said 'CHECKED BY DMLE. CLEAN.'
And under that in copperplate Malfoy, presumably, had added 'The Auror had bad breath.'
Harry browsed. Malfoy didn't keep a daily dairy, but he made some observations.
'Potter is absolutely disgusting. How dare he hold Daphne's hand.'
'Potter still can't cast spells silently, what is he, twelve?'
'Pansy still not speaking to me. Bitch.'
'Bitch bent over and made sure I saw. She's just trying to get me in trouble.'
'My life is ruined. I never should have given her that ring.'
Harry blinked. Malfoy had WHAT?
'Potter on honeymoon. Lucky bastard.'
'Weasley has angered the she-devil. They're history. Even Pansy shocked.'
'Tracey Davis dared call me a loser. It's all Potter's fault. The entire world is ruined.'
Near the current date it said 'Tori says I'm very brave to come back for eighth year. I feel like a complete fraud, and Potter is still pretending nothing ever happened. I hate him. He won, so now he's just pretending I don't exist! If he hadn't won, I'd be the most important boy at Hogwarts.'
And days later:
'Fate hates me. The one witch who doesn't despise me is her sister. He would never allow it.'
And the next day:
'She seems quite dim-witted actually. Said she thinks I didn't wand the Dark Lord to win. Of course I did. I would have been one of the elect. At least nobody alive saw me fail with Dumbledore. If I was Potter, I totally would have killed me in the battle. I was his greatest enemy, after all!'
Harry read that and instead of feeling angry, or threatened, he felt oddly sad. Malfoy was still a pompous, impulsive idiot, but on parole. And he had a hugely inflated idea of his own importance, even to Harry. He was, and always had been, as Hermione said, a vile little cockroach, but Harry had seen Malfoy, pale, sweating, unable to cast a spell at Dumbledore, and his attempts at fighting Harry during the battle of Hogwarts had been pathetic really.
And now he was writing pathetically angsty comments in his own diary, complaining even when a girl was kind to him, and thought that he was less of a monster than he thought he was.
Malfoy was indeed, a monster, but Harry was fairly sure it was some kind of yappy dog. Overbred, prone to biting people, but in the end, Malfoy was more talk than action. Obviously he was susceptible to promises of importance by people like Tom Riddle, but Malfoy was clearly lying to himself if he really thought Lord Voldemort had marked him as anything but a punishment to his parents. And then he realised that 'Tori was short for Astoria, his sister-in-law. Who was a big-eyed, naive girl. Harry felt sick. He didn't, he realised really want to put Malfoy in Azkaban for life.
He paused to think for a moment. Hermione's plan had been to cast an Unforgivable with the Hawthorn wand, and leave it in Malfoy's trunk. It would be found later today, and Malfoy would be off to Azkaban. But he'd been the worst Death Eater ever.
And then Harry remembered what Daphne had said about how Pansy had started just washing and washing, no longer bragging about her sexual exploits.
Okay, he was a sick creep. A bone-breaker would violate his parole, and he'd be in Azkaban for a few years. That would…
And Harry remembered Hagrid, who'd done three months in Azkaban, and big, cheerful Hagrid had come back with a gaunt face, not talking for months. And he remembered then that Tom Riddle had framed Hagrid, and he'd been expelled. And here he was, was standing, invisible with Malfoy's trunk open, reading his dairy, about to leave a wand that would frame Malfoy, and he would go to Azkaban.
Harry reached into his pocket and found the hawthorn wand. He silently cast a dozen tickling charms with it, and was about to drop it in behind the hair-gel, when the thought occurred that that much tickling could look like bullying. Harry hesitated, and silently cast a dozen gentle cleaning charm, interspersed with warming charms, which he directed at Malfoy's bed. He wiped the wand of fingerprints, used his wand to cast a cleaning charm on it, and dropped the Hawthorn wand into the space between the round hair-gel jars and the back corner of the trunk. You couldn't do magic properly without a wand that chose you, and Harry had been incredibly lucky to have a witch choose him.
He left the Slytherin dorms, found a secluded corner of the dungeons, and used the magic words to wake the Marauders Map. It was time to find Parkinson and have a chat. Because she was known to talk a lot, and Malfoy's Parole officer would be here later. If he overheard her complaining, maybe Parkinson could get some justice, and Malfoy something that wasn't life in Azkaban. Like expulsion, for example. It wasn't like he didn't have a spare wand now.
Pansy Parkinson, it transpired was in the clocktower courtyard.
Harry pocketed the map and went to find her.
He had not really expected her to be sitting in one of the cloisters down the side, reading a book. Because he was invisible, he could slide in and read the cover without her noticing.
The title was 'The Witches Rights Act and Related matters.' and Harry wondered about that. What was the witches rights act, and why would Parkinson, of all thing be interested. Well, she was a witch, he supposed. Still, he had to talk anyway, so he ducked behind the cloisters and took off his invisibility cloak, and stashed it in a now-bulging robe pocket.
"Parkinson, I'd like to have a talk" said Harry, walking into view.
"What?" she said "Here?"
"Why not?"
"It's a public place," she said.
"That's fine. I'm going to talk about Malfoy being on parole, and mention, just in passing that his parole officer will be here today."
"Ew," said Parkinson.
"So if you were, say, to be complaining about Malfoy where his parole officer heard, he'd get… perhaps expelled." said Harry. "And his wand snapped."
"You took his wand. He's got some piece of rubbish now," said Pansy sharply.
"When broken, nothing of value will be lost," said Harry. "And hypothetically, I gave that wand back."
"When?"
"Ten minutes ago." said Harry. "I um… Daphne mentioned that you were unhappy with Malfoy, end of fifth year."
"I can't believe that cow. Can't a witch have some sodding privacy." said Parkinson, scowling.
"Parkinson, you grossed out your entire dorm with you stories," said Harry. "That sort of thing's cruel. Mind you, you could get a job writing made up letters for a muggle mens magazine."
"Muggle!" said Parkinson.
"Okay, not helping you find work after Hogwarts," said Harry blandly.
"I don't want to put him in Azkaban, or get him expelled," said Pansy loudly. "He gave me a sodding engagement ring, Potter!"
"He what?"
"He um… promised he'd marry me." said Pansy petulantly "That I'd be the next Mrs Malfoy."
Harry joined the dots in his head.
"So um." said Harry.
"Well yeah, he wanted a shag" said Pansy. "I put him off till we were both over sixteen, and he um… brought his copy of American Playwitch." She bit her lip. "I might have um… told my dorm the stories from the letters."
Harry closed his eyes. Was Parkinson really that pathetic? Malfoy, for that matter too? What had really happened? Did he want to know? Basically, yes, because he wanted to get rid of Malfoy, and he was nosey. Daphne had assumed… possibly more than had happened.
Harry cast Snape's privacy charm.
"Oh god no," said Parkinson. "I don't want to. I don't care."
"What?"
"That's the spell Draco used," said Pansy.
Harry exhaled tiredly. "It's a privacy spell Snape invented. I just thought you might not want to discuss stuff and have everyone hear," said Harry. "I um… want to help you. If only so Daphne will be happy."
"You don't… want to do stuff?" asked Pansy.
"Oh god no. Not with you," said Harry.
"Draco didn't like really me either!" complained Pansy, and she sniffled.
"Why on earth would you think I wanted to do… things with you?" asked Harry.
"Well, because everyone knows you're… a very virile wizard, and poor Daphne could hardly cope," said Parkinson.
Harry pondered the reality of his relationship; namely that Daphne was quite capable of wearing him out, because someone was capable of shagging all day, and it wasn't Harry. He'd had to learn… techniques.
Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes again. "Parkinson, you are a woman. You are therefore quite capable, as is, I suspect any woman, of using up all the virility a bloke has, and still being at least in theory, capable of more."
"Well I'm not letting you and Weasley have a go," said Pansy stiffly.
"For gods sake. I don't want to have a go at you. I'm married to Daphne. I've been in love with her for ages, and we're married. Goddammit. I'm just trying to help people," said Harry.
"Did you and her really… years ago?" asked Pansy.
"For obvious reasons, I won't say," said Harry.
"You two are such perverts," said Pansy. "An entire suitcase of perverted toys"
"That was Ron and the guys giving us a prank present," said Harry.
"But you took it!" said Pansy. "Pervert."
"What's the story with the ring?" asked Harry.
"It's a Black family engagement ring. It was his mothers.. well he claimed it had been his mothers" said Pansy. "And now he won't marry me. After all I did. Let him do."
"Look, Daphne mentioned you were. Um, washing and washing?" asked Harry, blushing but determined to get … well ideally, Malfoy in prison. And Pansy to shut up, and maybe get a grip on reality.
"He made me… dress as a maid" said Pansy. Harry immediately remembered Daphne wearing a very abbreviated French maid's outfit. Mmmm.
"And then clean the stupid dusty old classroom. Without magic!" said Pansy indignantly.
"Uh" said Harry.
And Pansy related the whole sorry story – Malfoy had made Pansy do humiliating … servant-like things. Like clean, wash clothes, but he hadn't tried to get her to cook. Which was probably just as well.
"It was like he wanted me to be a house-elf!" said Pansy petulantly. "Normal people have house-elves, they don't make respectable fiancee's act like house-elves."
"Daphne um… baked biscuits," offered Harry. It was a measure of how mature and married he was that he didn't blush saying it.
Pansy stared at him "She… cooked?"
"Came to Grimmauld place and cooked," said Harry.
"Biscuits is not cooking. She can't cook." said Pansy. Harry begged to disagree; also, Sirius was a fan of takeaway, and Harry had been converted, as it were.
"It's just… I assumed that you'd want him in Azkaban" said Harry.
"Not till after we're married!" said Parkinson. "I wouldn't get anything."
"So, um, after you're married?" asked Harry.
"Which he wouldn't do anyway" said Parkinson. "He's making eyes at bloody Astoria."
Harry swallowed. Oh, Pansy had noticed.
"Well, he um, thinks she believes in him and um… that there's no way I'd let him" said Harry. "I dunno why he thinks I have any say in it."
"You're married to her older sister, Merlins's balls!" said Pansy. "You'd have to go to things with him."
"Mmm" said Harry, making a decision "I think it's Azkaban, actually." he said.
"It's not like the patriarch of the house of Black is going to force him to marry me, is it." said Pansy bitterly.
"Um" said Harry – Sirius wasn't into that whole house of black thing. But then again, he hated the Malfoys too.
"I'll um… talk to Sirius." said Harry "I had no idea you were um. Betrothed to Malfoy."
"Why are you even thinking about helping me?" asked Pansy.
"Daphne mentioned the problem, and um… how would you actually feel if you got mrried ot Malfoy?"
"Sorely tempted to divorce him" she muttered.
Harry nodded. "Think you'd get half?"
"Not worth it – till his father dies, he only has a trust fund" said Pansy.
Harry made a mental note to talk to Percy about that, and nodded.
Pansy blinked. "Oh god," she said "You're angling to have me as the other woman."
Harry ignored that imaginative statement of Pansy's, and said "So um. I'll see about tidying up the inheritance issues, and um, talk to Sirius. I'm not angling for anything. All I want is for you to try to be a decent human being. You could start by apologising to Neville – you bullied him since first year."
"I've been telling that crybaby he was a crybaby since he was six" said Pansy.
"Who's a war hero" said Harry. "Apologise."
"And?"
"Then to Hermione" said Harry.
Parkinson grumbled, and Harry went back to his rooms. He composed a letter to Sirius, Daphne looked over his shoulder and kissed his head "That's very mature of you dear" she said.
-=0=-
A few days later, a flustered looking Neville pulled him into a classroom for a talk.
"Harry?" he asked.
"You all right?" asked Harry.
"I um." said Neville. "I um. Did you really tell Parkinson to make up up to me?" he asked ,tugging at his robe collar.
Harry shrugged. "I suppose so." he said.
"She said I can raid their gardens for anything" said Neville "And um… you didn't tell her to um… offer services" said Neville oddly properly.
"Uh?" said Harry.
"She got on her knees, Harry. I mean… that's … just" said Neville.
Harry went red in the face and had to protected that no, that's not what he'd meant.
"I didn't even know girls enjoyed those sorts of things" said Neville.
Harry could only say "oh god." and try not to imagine anything.
"I know, I mean, what do I tell Hannah?" asked Neville. "She's not that sort of girl at all!"
Harry covered his face with his hands.
"Harry did you not um…" said Neville awkwardly.
"No I bloody didn't. I'm married. And I don't like Pansy at all" said Harry.
"Right um." said Neville. Harry peeked through his fingers, and Neville was red-faced. "Oh god I've ruined everything" he said.
-=0=-
Harry felt his life couldn't get more complicated, till a red-faced Hermione found him in the library and dragged him away from Daphne to talk in a disused classroom – though Hermione did have to evict two sixth-years.
She cast a locking charm on the door.
"Harry, you … you should not have made Parkinson do that" said Hermione, looking, in Harry's opinion, halfway between embarrassed and angry.
Harry cast a second locking charm on the door, and a privacy charm.
"I only asked her to apologise ot Neville, not…. Do stuff" said Harry.
"Neville?" said Hermione indignantly "What about Neville? It's what she tried to do to me!"
"Oh no" said Harry.
"An now I'm very confused." said Hermione "Was she picking on me all along because she… felt attracted to me?"
Harry wondered about conjuring a knitting needle to stick in his ears. No, that was stupid; there was a deafness jinx that could be undone, if he could just remember it.
Hermione, unfortunately proceeded to describe Parkinson's assault on Hermione's virtue, and worse… she ended by saying "And now I wonder if I'm even straight!"
"What?" asked Harry reflexively. Maybe he'd imagined the last bit.
"Well, it was a bloody sight better than Ron's ever managed!" she snapped out. "And now I'm noticing her."
Harry made a plan with lightning speed. He'd go ask Daphne to memory charm him of the last hour. That would do it.
But Hermione persisted in asking Harry what she should do.
"Why are you asking ME?" asked Harry.
"Well, because… you're married. You've … had two serious girlfriends, and um… ugh. You and Daphne are clearly good together. You… you've got it worked out."
"It was a fluke" said Harry bluntly. "We just… click."
Hermione nodded woodenly. "That's…. That's what I'm afraid of." she said, and grimaced.
"What?"
"Parkinson… clicks" said Hermione, blushing horrendously. "She… god. How am I supposed to concentrate on my assignments?"
Harry felt his mouth opening and shutting but the world seemed very far away.
Still, at least tonight he'd be the big spoon, so there was that.
-=0=-
Sirius conceded by letter that yes, technically he could get the family lawyers to force Draco into marrying Pansy.
Percy's reply to his short note was simply 'This matter will be reviewed at the highest levels.' Which was so nonspecific, and yet, Harry felt Percy had told him everything he wanted to know; Kignsley was going to think about it, and maybe the Malfoy's would have an accident in Azkaban.
What happened instead, was that on Tuesday, the Daily Prophet had an article about a new law, that made anyone in Azkaban on a life sentence legally dead. Harry pondered that for a bout ten seconds and decided he could live with that. In fact, that he liked it. Draco Malfoy had read it, because he came over to Harry and Daphne as everyone waited for Transfiguration class, and said quite formally "Mister Potter, I'd like to thank you, on behalf of everyone with family in Azkaban, for vastly simplifying inheritance issues."
"Oh I didn't do anything" said Harry.
"This reeks of your cloying sense of fairness, Potter" said Draco. "Many law firms would have been going to make a fortune this year, and now will miss out."
"Well, that's a shame" said Harry. "Consider donating generously to um?"
"St Mungo's" said Daphne. "The Malfoys were traditionally large sponsors."
"Oh, we will be" said Draco. "I um… Theo and I will be able to act as heads of the family. It's going to make a huge difference."
"Just don't be evil" said Harry.
"Yes, quite" said Malfoy. "Daphne, you're such a good influence on your famous husband. He's… sickeningly happy."
"Well, he's quite nice to me too" said Daphne. And she smiled a little coldly "You'll be nice to your wife, assuming anyone ever marries you."
That ruined Malfoy's mood, and he turned and walked, shoulders hunched, to the end of the Slytherin side of the hallway, to wait.
"That was quite vicious" said Harry. "And he hasn't had his second present yet."
Daphne chuckled.
That, which took the outward form of an eagle owl bearing a letter, arrived on Wednesday, at lunch-time, dropping the letter in front of Malfoy.
He opened it and read the letter, not managing to keep in a loud "SOD!" as he read.
"That's from Sirius, I assume?" asked Daphne.
"Or the lawyers" said Harry.
"Harry?" asked Hermione "What did you do?"
"Um. Oh not much" said Harry.
A second eagle owl dropped a letter at Parkinson's plate, and she fed the owl, read the letter, caught Harry's eye and nodded.
"Harry, mate?" asked Ron. "What was that?"
"Oh Ron," said Daphne "Draco used an engagement ring on Pansy in fifth year. Harry's told Sirius and the family lawyers have clearly just told Draco he must actually marry, or be sued into oblivion."
"But she can't marry Malfoy," said Hermione. "He was… ghastly to her."
"Perhaps she'll divorce him," said Daphne evenly. "I rather expect, with the Black family lawyers helping, the marriage contract will ensure Pansy got amply compensated for… things that have happened in the past."
"I'm glad you're not ever mad at me" said Ron.
"Oh, Ronald, why would I ever be mad at you?" asked Daphne "Apart from that ever-so risible wedding present of a suitcase of sex toys?"
"And some of them were quite tasteless" said Harry.
Ron visibly shrank on the bench seat.
"Oh Ron, I'm not out to get you," said Daphne mildly.
"She'll wait till you're not expecting it," said Harry.
"They really are a pair aren't they" said Dean. "I wanted to give you two a portrait."
"Oh that would be delightful" said Daphne. "But we couldn't possibly take something so valuable as a gift – we'll commission you, and get Sirius to pay."
Dean smiled, then abruptly frowned and started to fidget, and mutter.
Harry leaned into Daphne's hair and said "Now he's worrying about how to do a portrait."
"Dean, don't worry" said Daphne "You can learn on the job. We'll do some publicity thing once you've got a portrait done, and you'll get some publicity. Do you think you're going to do animated paintings eventually? Because a sketch with watercolours would be just fine, honestly."
"Um, thanks," said Dean, visibly relaxing.
-=0=-
In Herbology, Neville buttonholed Harry.
"Harry, it's terrible. Malfoy marrying Parkinson" he said.
"I think that might not last long" said Harry.
"Oh." said Neville, and he looked conflicted. "I um. That's probably just as well."