A Crown Of Black Upon His Head
Disclaimer: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Review Answers:
Kam McElveen: Let's just say that's the least that can happen to Lucy;
Skooglie: I appreciate the compliment;
Jtapp1228: Actually, I have a very different idea in mind for Daphne and Harry's relationship, which may confuse some people, but I hope you, and others, trust that I do have a plan in the long-term;
Hpg1775: It's rare, but it happens: a favourite author of mine named 'StormyFireDragon' wrote a fun story with a not-evil Dolly and I also hinted at it in a story from a long time ago;
"I think it's past time we had a chat, Heiress Greengrass."
Daphne Alyssa Greengrass just stared back with disbelief and calm, if not cold curiosity, as Harry folded his arms before he drew in a deep breath as he continued in that same sibilant hiss of a tone.
"After all, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that, as my betrothed, we should get used to being around each other, so…where do we begin?"
Chapter 6: Black Ice and Red Sand
As Daphne and Harry sat alone next to an overhanging tree, both of them with nothing, but the September chill and the view of the Black Lake to keep them company, the blonde-haired Slytherin couldn't resist glancing in the direction of her new companion.
His expression seemed calm, despite the severity of the reason for him coming to find her, and yet, as he stared out across the Black Lake, noticing the Giant Squid's tentacles drifting lazily in the distance, Harry didn't seem a little fazed by what he'd just said. On top of that, although he'd shown due decorum by kissing the back of her hand and addressing her as Heiress, as was her title, he also didn't seem too concerned by what she might be thinking about him, or his choice of words.
For several seconds, Harry said nothing, while Daphne didn't know what she was meant to say, especially in light of how, thanks to Pucey, she knew that the wrong word might result in her feeling the fangs and venom of the unofficial Slytherin King.
And, given what he'd said about the reason for finding her, she didn't know what…
"Did you know we're sitting in a famous spot?"
It was such a casual question, and nothing to do with what he'd said to her before succumbing to the silence of the September afternoon.
"What?"
"This place," said Harry, jerking his head at the tree as he explained, "Two prominent students once met here as friends, when one was forced to bear witness to something she couldn't wholly accept, least of all around those who didn't know the meaning behind it…sound familiar?"
Daphne gave a soft laugh before, unable to stop the sarcasm lacing her words, she asked, "Let me guess: you're going to tell me that one of the students was a Black? And that you learned about this place and the incident from Pat…I mean, from your Grandfather?"
"No, and not quite," said Harry, looking now to Daphne, who felt her cheeks redden in shame, if only a little, as she saw none of the coldness he had been showing in and around the school since day one; instead, he looked at her with what she might have called a more-neutral, open air that made him almost seem like a regular schoolmate.
Almost.
His voice was also less-snappish and formal, filled with a calm air of apparent reminisce as he explained, "Actually, it was my…well, I suppose I could call her my stepmother, or perhaps adoptive Mother, Bellatrix Black, once Lestrange, who told me of this place. And the students in question were her distant relative, Leta Lestrange, and none other than the famous magizoologist, Newt Scamander."
"Really?" asked Daphne, looking up at the tree behind her.
"Yes, and be careful," said Harry, reaching behind Daphne before, to her surprise, he pulled a small green creature from the tree, holding them gently atop his hand as he explained, "The Bowtruckles are a curious sort, Miss Greengrass, but they're also known to defend their territory, especially such a large nest like this one…there you go, little one."
He returned the Bowtruckle to a higher branch as he said the last part, earning a grateful chirruping sound from the creature, which Harry nodded his head in response to. "You're welcome…excuse us…"
Returning to his spot next to the tree, looking out across the lake as he did, Harry cleared his throat as he went on, "Now, with the ice broken, do you think we could talk like two students, instead of letting the Erumpent in the room get any bigger than it already is between us?"
"Uh…" Daphne began, before her eyes widened as she realised why it was that Harry had acted and sounded so casual about the topic of conversation, concerning the tree and its famous, and infamous, visitors before now.
He was looking for a reason to break the ice, as he said, and strike up the conversation, giving her a reason to talk to him and vice-versa.
Licking her lips slowly, Daphne took a breath before she asked, "Sorry, but how do you expect me to talk to you, Potter? I mean, you walk right up to me and claim you're my betrothed…"
"Which I know you know I am, or I may yet be, once the two of us reach our respective thirteenth birthdays," argued Harry, earning another shocked look from Daphne as he explained, "In my case, that would be the end of our second year, in the summer holidays that followed, but in your case, Miss Greengrass, you will turn thirteen next December…on the day of the Winter Solstice, unless I'm mistaken?"
Daphne's cheeks reddened again, "No…you're not."
"Ironic that the Pureblood's Ice Queen is born on such a day, isn't it?"
"Don't call me that!" snapped Daphne, earning a raised eyebrow from Harry, while Daphne seemed to shift from nervous and curious to full-blown confident as she insisted, "I hate that stupid nickname: the only reason it got spread around in the first place is because of that prissy little bitch, Parkinson, who claimed I was as cold as ice because I refused to give her precious Drakie-poo the time of day, and even chose to keep my distance from his smarmy-arsed Daddy and their ilk…but can you blame me? Every damn Slytherin family I know thinks…"
"That your family are only not classed as blood traitors because you choose to keep your business to the Magical World and keep your distance from Muggles unless the situation calls for it," answered Harry, earning a startled look from Daphne, before she scoffed.
Of course he'd know about the reputation of her family.
As though silently agreeing with her, Harry went on, "There's also how your parents and your grandparents couldn't be swayed by either Albus Dumbledore and his little vigilante group, much less Voldemort and his band of black sheep and blood purists. Add in your association with the Half-Blood Household of Davis, which endures thanks to your own companion, the prodigious Miss Tracey-Anne Davis, daughter of a proud Half-Blood and a Muggle, whom he fell in love with during his time in a festival celebration in…Edinburgh, I believe?"
Daphne blanched, nodding silently as, again, she tried to hide her emotions behind her confidence as she told him, "Don't let Trace hear you use her full name like that; she never understood what her Mum was thinking hyphenating it like that."
"Understandable," said Harry in a matter-of-fact voice. "I have a relative of my own with an unfortunate name choice, thanks to her Mother, irony of ironies. Of course, much like everyone else has chosen to do, as my actions in the Ministry earlier proved, said relative is part of a circle that is content in making my family persona non grata, as far as they're concerned. Heck, said relation was standing as close as you are sitting next to me and she didn't even acknowledge my presence, much less the fact that we are connected, even after Grandfather was more than willing to overturn her Mother's disowning and return her to the fold."
Daphne's eyes narrowed, before Harry looked again to her as he explained, "But we're getting off-topic here, Greengrass, and we have classes this afternoon, so let's just get down to brass tacks. For six years, I have known of our betrothal, through the ancient connections shared between the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter and the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass. The exact details are ones I will not discuss here, since even trees have ears, but, long-story short, Miss Greengrass, when I was told of our betrothal, I was forbidden from contacting you, or having anything to do with you, until we both came to Hogwarts."
"Why?" asked Daphne, a small part of her surprised that Harry was willing to admit even this much to her. "If we are betrothed…"
"Shall I swear a Wizard's Oath to prove it to you?" asked Harry coldly, showing the side of himself that Daphne, and others, knew from the Common Room, earning a startled look from Daphne as Harry fixed her with his serpentine glare. "I was perfectly willing to be just Harry about this, Heiress Greengrass, but since you would rather be as annoying as that insufferably-smug brunette in Gryffindor when she answers questions before us, let me state the facts of the situation as only Heir Potter-Black can."
Here, he rose from his seat, before using his wand to clean his clothes as he looked down at Daphne, who felt her heart chill as she saw the icy stare he fixed her with, before his voice again gained that formal, strong lilt as he addressed her.
"The terms of the betrothal will not take effect until I come of age, nobility-speaking, on my thirteenth birthday: at the same time, I have every right to dismiss the contract if I so chose, but know that the repercussions for making me decide to take such a path are far greater than tiny baubles and pieces of gold, silver and bronze. At the same time, Heiress Greengrass, I have been given every right, by both my Patriarch-Grandfather and my stepmother, to decide whether or not I should pursue such a route, which, to be perfectly, brutally honest and blunt with you, if you continue to act like an ignorant little girl and not the pure, proud Ice Queen you are supposed to be…"
"I said don't call me that!"
"Then give me a reason to see you as being someone who is more than a title," hissed Harry, turning his back on Daphne, which meant she didn't see him smirk to himself as he explained, "As I was saying, if you choose to be the silly little girl and not the proud heiress I have heard you are, I will take that route. You are a proud pureblood heiress, Madame Greengrass, but, at the same time, here's something you can also remember the next time you decide to try and play ignorant or think the Raven's Eyes are blind."
Daphne's blood turned to ice in her veins at the term used by Harry.
Black
The Raven's Eyes was the term for the network once set up by Harry's Grandfather, the Black King himself, and was the kind of off-the-record, untraceable-slash-off-the-books information web that meant that even the most-intimate secrets can be known.
Suddenly, Daphne wished she hadn't played ignorant as she realised where Harry was getting his information from, and not just on her, Tracey or even the tree and spot they were sitting in. there was the McKinnon Massacre, Pucey's family situations, Bellatrix's lost chance at Motherhood and everything else that made Harry so dangerous.
Truly, he was the Black King's heir.
And she had just made a huge boo-boo in underestimating him, or what he was capable of.
Especially since, as dangerous as the Raven's Eyes were for their network and knowledge-gaining abilities.
With a wand, they were terrifying!
As the unknown, but terrifying whispers coming out of the Saharan Night of Blood and Sand proved…
Black
As she looked up at Harry, trying to gather as much courage as she could muster, Daphne gulped before she asked, "What…what should I remember before…before underestimating you again, Heir Potter-Black?"
"Something that we'll all know in a year's time or so," said Harry, turning to make his way back to the castle.
Though not before he delivered a killer's blow.
"You're not the only Greengrass Heiress!"
Daphne's eyes widened in horror as the insinuation hit her hard, forcing her to leap to her feet, drawing her wand as she cut off Harry's retreat.
Holding the wand to the surprisingly-calm boy's chin, Daphne snarled, "If you even think of hurting Tori…"
"Do I look like a Death Eater?" asked Harry, lowering his eyes to the wand that actually felt hot against his skin, indicating that Daphne was close to blowing her top, but Harry kept his expression neutral and calm, as he'd been taught, as he went on.
"Unlike so many of our peers who enter into such contracts, Miss Greengrass, I have absolutely no intentions of harming my betrothed in any way, shape or form and, if the Fates allow it, I may even allow myself to feel what others may call love or affection for her or, if you choose to show me the real Daphne Alyssa Greengrass, even you. But, for now, while you are being this tactless, insufferably-ignorant little rich girl, I refuse to even allow a chink in my armour so that I may consider you what we may yet become, meaning equals. Instead, I will follow Grandfather's guidance and refer myself to the reason he forbade me in the first place."
"Which is what?" asked Daphne.
Again, Harry's answer caught her off-guard.
"So that, unlike him, I will not have to resort to a Red Sand Massacre, as it is really known and translated from the Egyptian dialect, when my equal becomes something she should never have had to become…meaning dead!"
Daphne felt her body fall onto the grass.
However, Harry walked away without looking back.
Black
Once he was gone, Daphne curled her knees to her chest, her heart breaking in her chest as she looked to the spot where he'd been sitting, her body trembling slightly as she finally asked herself a question that, too little-too late, she realised she should have asked instead of making out that she didn't know about her betrothal.
Because she did…
She just hadn't known who it was that she was betrothed to, although she'd been glad that it wasn't Lucius Malfoy's then-hellspawn.
She just would have never expected it to be someone like Harry Potter-Black, much less that he might have been forbidden because…because…
Because he was to prevent a second Sahara…no…what was it he'd called it?
The Red Sand Massacre!
'What…what does that horror story have to do with his forbidding from meeting me as children?'
Again, it was a question that Daphne found herself cursing her stupidity for not asking.
Especially since any and all records of that dark night were sealed away, lost to ephemera and whispers that only sought to remind people of the mania and terror of the wrath of the Black King.
But if his heir had been raised to avoid making such a choice…
What did it mean?
And how could Daphne find a way to try and prove to Harry that she was worthy of…of fulfilling the terms of their betrothal?
Especially if it could save Astoria.
Then again…
Would it be so bad to have such a coiled viper for a…a brother-in-law?
So, a short, but tense 6th Chapter and it looks like Harry might not be thinking with his heart, but with something else: what does the Red Sand Massacre – aka the Saharan Night of Blood and Sand – have to do with it?
Also, what will Daphne do?
Forsake her own thoughts and feelings and choose to become the new Black Princess to the cold-spirited Black Prince, maybe even the Ice Queen to the Winter King?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Daphne tries to get Harry to see that she is willing to hear him out, but his mind is on other things, specifically the nearing of a tenth anniversary that is anything, but a reason to celebrate;
Please Read and Review
AN: Harry's Attitude
Also, before anyone snipes about it, let me say there is a reason that Harry went from calm and friendly to cold-minded heir again and, obviously, the infamous night from history has something to do with it;
I did this because I wanted something different for a betrothal fic and, at the same time, I hoped to remind people that this isn't the Harry we know and love, nor is he just some prodigy who hears betrothal and suddenly it's all hand-holding and eventual kisses.
The Ice Queen has an Everest to climb, while Harry is thinking more about the long-term than just going with his heart or even thinking with certain, as of yet, undeveloped body parts. I suppose you could even call this a 'Slow Burn' relationship that is based around a betrothal, so it's going to be at least mid-to-end second year before anything intimate may or may not happen.