Acknowledgment—The following is a work of fanfiction, written and posted solely for the enjoyment of readers. The author thanks Ms. JK Rowling for allowing writers to set work among the population and locations found in the Harry Potter series of books. Everything belongs to Ms. Rowling and the author of this story neither seeks nor receives remuneration.
Two Daughters
Chapter Eighteen
A Harry and Daphne Fanfic
By
Bfd1235813
The Potter Manor Samhain observance was untraditional, in the sense that, in contrast to the typical, all-night party, Potter's wrapped up before ten p.m., with the intention of returning the students to Hogwarts for a decent night's sleep. Staying up until Dawn, sipping mead, intentionally calming the consciousness to better feel the presence of the beloved departed; such elements of the observance could be put off for a few more years.
With the bonfire lit, Potter began to share a few thoughts.
"Tonight, our worlds are close together, as close as they get, close enough for the spirits of those who have gone before us to get some sense of how we are doing. How we keep the old ways. How we show our respect for the Old Ones who tamed the world they found and left it better for us. I don't believe they stand in judgement, but I do think they observe us and assess our efforts. Are we honoring their lives, preserving space for the forests, the animals, the humans less fortunate than ourselves? Will the children want to live in this world, once we are gone, leaving nothing but the results of our work?"
Ane, standing in front of Delphi, felt her sister's chin touch the top of her head. She lifted her right hand, reaching across herself to grasp the fingertips resting on her left shoulder.
Potter continued, his theme a tribute to witches and wizards who kept the old ways, raising the children in magical homes filled with love and respect. By that means, Potter said, they ensured the children appreciated their special role, as magical guardians of Earth and Magick.
The murmurs of agreement might have come from the spirits that watched, from just outside the rational realm. When Potter finished, Daphne stepped close, Young Cyrus on one hip, and kissed her husband on his lips. Potter kissed his son, then hugged his two daughters, one of whom was streaming tears.
"What?" he asked Delphi.
"Beautiful. Just so beautiful," she managed to snuffle, earning her another hug.
Laurel Lestrange stood, looking on from her spot a bit further back from the bonfire. She admitted, mentally, that the Potter-Blacks no longer struck her as a collection of abominations. Quite the contrary. Harry Potter might have caused some heartburn to the Lestrange clan, returning to Britain after some years away, a little copy of Bellatrix in tow. Then the older daughter appeared, mysteriously, her presence putting flesh on a disturbing Lestrange family tale, a whispered rumor, about Bellatrix' secret and most important service for her one-time lord.
Laurel looked at her Slytherin housemate and did not see Voldemort. Delphine Black had to be Potter's child, she decided. The green eyes, looking out from her Aunt Bellatrix' face, the way their body languages echoed one another. The little speech Potter gave might have been for the benefit of all the young magicals in attendance. It could have been, just as well, the speech of a father to his children, in a private, family observance. In years to come, he seemed to be saying, it would be fine for the youth to begin sampling the headier feast day pleasures. They could enjoy some ale, or mead, some songs, a dance around the bonfire, even slip away to some private place with an agreeable companion, just as long as they remembered the privilege they enjoyed was not their doing. Rather, some combination of forces brought about humans, the Old Ones cleared the paths, and the magical heirs who were here, now, kept them alive by remembering.
Laurel Lestrange stood, considering Harry Potter's holiday thoughts, in such a reverie that she did not notice Daphne walking her way until her hostess was nearly upon her.
"Lady Daphne!" she said, sounding a tad startled. "I didn't see you coming."
"What do you think, Laurel? Do the Potters get Samhain right?" asked Daphne.
"I think so," said Lestrange. "There is a bit more…whooping…I'd say, around our bonfire."
"One of the variables, isn't it? I loved going to my girlfriends' homes for Samhain, or any of the holidays, I suppose. Get to see how another family observed the day," said Daphne.
"Lady Daphne, can I ask you about your baby?"
"Of course," said Daphne. "He's certainly interested in you."
Young Cyrus seemed to have settled on Lestrange, as an object of study.
"What is his name?"
"Cyrus. For my father?" said Daphne. "Cyrus Asturias Potter Greengrass."
"Greengrass? Why? If Harry Potter is his father?" asked Lestrange.
"My parents had daughters, two of us, and no sons. Astoria's son Scorpius is my nephew, already claimed by the Malfoys. Without a Greengrass child in this generation, the family line dies out," said Daphne.
"What was the other one? The name, I mean," asked Lestrange.
"Asturias? My mother is from a Spanish House. It's come down. Lord Harry and I wanted to honor that. You should know, Delphi and Ane insist on referring to this guy as Potter. Right from the beginning, they were sure his friends, when he had friends, would be calling him Potter Greengrass. As if all that other stuff wouldn't be confusing enough," Daphne explained.
"I get it," said Lestrange. "That's funny."
"I know," said Daphne. "Time will tell."
"He's handsome. For a baby, I mean," said Lestrange.
"He certainly appears to find you intriguing. How are you enjoying second year?"
"I like the subjects better this year," said Lestrange.
"Favorites?"
"Uh…Defense, and potions," said Lestrange.
"You're a true witch, then," said Daphne. "Do you push yourself? In those, or any of the others."
"I'm told I could work harder," Lestrange said, or mumbled.
"Give it a try," Daphne said. "You can always slack off, if you get over-tired."
Lestrange got a little smile at Daphne's subtle dig.
"I'll do that. Thanks for inviting me to your family Samhain," said Lestrange. "If I didn't say so before."
"I think you might have, but it's still nice to hear. We've a table and chairs, just over this way. Can I get you to sit? Maybe an elf can bring us a cider," said Daphne.
With a gesture, Daphne directed her guest to the seating, just outside the brightest part of the circle.
"While it's quiet, Laurel, I must tell you how pleased I am that you and Delphi are turning a new leaf. That is very mature of you. I remember those things from my own school days. Learning to handle them is a big part of what parents hope their children will learn in school. To do what you're doing," said Daphne.
"Ah…I was wrong, about Delphine, Lady Daphne," said Lestrange. "It was prejudice. Now that I know her better, and you and your family, I won't be making the same mistake again."
"Good," said Daphne. "Ten or twenty years from now, perhaps you two will be among the young witches we'll be counting on to grow into the next generation of leaders."
High praise from the society matron, magical lawyer and step-mother of the Slytherin witch, Delphine Black. Daphne's comments gave Laurel Lestrange a warm feeling. She picked up her cup and took a drink of cider.
"Ha!"
The two witches looked up. Young Cyrus straightened his arms and started jabbering about 'Dada, Dada, Dada!'
Potter picked up his son before sitting down with the witches.
"Comments, Laurel? Enjoying your mid-week break?" he asked.
"I'd say so, Lord Harry," Laurel answered. "I liked your speech."
"Thank-you. That means I did one thing right, today. Hope I wasn't overly pompous. Just some thoughts that come to me every Autumn. None of the other holidays do that," he said. "I don't have an explanation for why Samhain has come to mean so much to me."
"Isn't it there, in the remarks you shared?" asked Daphne. "Samhain has claimed your imagination, and you acknowledge your debt to those who have gone before. Sounds simple enough, to me."
"As usual, Laurel, Lady Daphne has sorted my chaotic thoughts, organized them and given them back in a manageable form," Potter said. "So. How's school this term? Are you beating the coursework into submission?"
"Getting there, perhaps," said Lestrange.
"Excellent! What would you say, if I leave you witches here, take Young Cyrus in hand, do the rounds and let him greet our guests?"
"Wonderful idea, dear. Fair warning-he's exceptionally bouncy tonight," Daphne said.
Laurel Lestrange gave Potter a decent interval for extracting himself from her immediate vicinity. Then she turned back to Daphne.
"Lady Daphne, can I…we…speak frankly?"
"Within reason, I'm sure," said Daphne. "Please go ahead. I'll let you know if you're getting out of bounds."
"I know I got off to a bad start, with Delphine. Last year. I wanted to do better, and I told her so," said Laurel.
"Mmm-hmm, and I did hear some talk," said Daphne. "Is there something I can do for you, in that regard?"
"NO—nothing like that," Laurel Lestrange protested. "But everyone is being so nice to me. How can you do that? I think I may have insulted everyone in your family by acting the way I did."
"Laurel, you're so young! Of course you did, and it is my job to let the youth flail a bit before setting things right. Then a young person learns something. Can you see where I'm going? Before you knew Delphi, or anything about her, really, you became irritated by her very presence. One year later, you had learned some things, thought about your previous interaction and wanted something different. It's all part of growing up. Very mature of you, as well."
"I still can't believe you invited me to your home, after…," said Laurel.
"After your earlier remarks," said Daphne. "Let's see. Most people who make a mistake of that sort will try to ignore it or hope the other person forgets. You showed you have the character and maturity necessary to recognize an error and approach Delphi with an offer to start over."
"Thank-you," whispered Laurel.
"That deserves recognition. What was Bella-to you, I mean?" asked Daphne.
"My great-aunt. I only saw her a few times. She was in prison, or chasing around after—after the Dark Lord. Then, Lord Harry took care of him," said Laurel. "Delphine is so nice. That's why I can't, uh, picture them."
Daphne sat, still, studying her interlocutor. Laurel Lestrange felt a bit like slinking off to the shadows on the edge of the bonfire-lit circle. Instead, she held her place, or, perhaps, felt something holding her there. Some phenomenon that made her resolve to stay and wait while she let the Potter-Black-Greengrass clan show itself, warts and all.
"Here's where we stop pursuing details and get ourselves back to the present, hmm? Lord Harry is very proud of his witches, and it is truly an honor for me to be the mother of his son," Daphne said. "Sometimes, whatever went before has to stay that which went before. Which occurs regularly in magical circles. Do you think that would work for the two of us?"
Something about Daphne's observation struck Laurel Lestrange as very funny. She gave her affirmation in the form of a hearty laugh.
"And here's the little sister," said Laurel, as Ane arrived.
"Ane? Anything? Tea, cookies?" asked Daphne.
"Could I—"
Ane held up her right hand, the forefinger pointing up at the sky.
"Ane, what did your father ask you not to do?" Daphne wanted to know.
Ane knew the answer but was hoping for a more positive response. Her face fell.
"Right. Laurel, it is completely unfair of me to ask this of you, but I'll do it anyway. Can you be trusted with a Potter Family semi-secret?"
"Absolutely," said Laurel, adding, "I give you my word."
"Go ahead," Daphne said to Ane, nodding.
One Serpensortia spell later, Ane had Little Snake No-Name, coiled on the tabletop, liberated from wherever he went when he wasn't summoned into the realm of physical phenomena.
"Aieee!" said a very startled Laurel.
"Don't worry, he's harmless, I think," said Ane as she picked up her snake. "He's never been to a Samhain bonfire, and I needed to get him out anyway."
"And there you have it, Laurel," said Daphne. "Impressed?"
"How old are you?" Laurel wanted to know.
"Ten-and-a-half," said Ane.
"Next September, off to Hogwarts," said Daphne.
"More than impressed, whatever that is," said Laurel. "Not believing my own eyes."
It was just a short time later that Potter reappeared, Young Cyrus on hip, announcing it was time for the students to gather up any belongings as they would be returning to Hogwarts. One of the conditions for the outing was that adults would stay with their charges until they reached the Hogwarts gates. Astoria and Andromeda went ahead, with Scorpius and Teddy Lupin. Potter handed Young Cyrus back to his mother, then took the floo, with Delphi, Mary Beth and Laurel Lestrange, from Potter Manor to Rosmerta's.
"All here?" he asked.
"All here, Harry," said Rosmerta. "Good Samhain?"
"The best," said Potter, evoking no dissent.
The wizard and two witches proceeded to walk their charges from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. The party atmosphere continued all the way, until Delphi hugged her dad. She would have been fine if a sniffle hadn't given her away. The other four students looked elsewhere, while Potter pulled back, gave Delphi a smile and reminded her she had classes the next day.
Astoria Malfoy didn't brace Potter until they were roughly at the halfway point of their walk.
"What?!" she demanded.
"Care to expand?" Potter played for time since he didn't have the slightest idea what Astoria was asking.
"That Lestrange witch. Laurel? She's Laurel Lestrange, isn't she?" asked Astoria.
"Yes, Laurel. She was cold towards Delphi last year. Wanted to start over, the two of them in Slytherin, the same year, so on and so forth," said Potter.
"I won't argue with that, but why the buddy-buddy? She wanted an invitation?" Astoria went on.
"Ah. Not the case at all. Delphi wanted to invite her," said Potter.
"Delphi? To Samhain?" Andromeda asked.
"To something. Laurel Lestrange apologized for the way she had acted last year," said Potter.
"Wait, Harry," said Astoria. "A Lestrange acted badly and apologized for it? When did that skill enter the Lestrange repertoire?"
"Since Laurel Lestrange happened on some new information, which she didn't have last year, it seems. Now she thinks, perhaps, Harry Potter might have done the right thing after all. So, having had a less-than-cordial exchange with his daughter, she expressed remorse and spoke of a desire to start afresh," Potter said.
"And you took her under your wing? Tutelage? Gave her guidance?" asked Astoria.
"Oh, that's getting ahead of ourselves," said Potter. "Perhaps Daphne did. You can ask."
That got to Andromeda Tonks, who let out a laugh.
"Yes, talk to Daphne," said Andromeda. "That's where you'll get the real story."
The trip from the threshold of Rosmerta's to the salon of Potter Manor took almost no time. Astoria reported to Daphne that the students were safely back inside Hogwarts, kissed her nephew, assured him she loved him 'so much!' and took the floo, on to Malfoy Manor.
"Tea? Decaffeinated tea? Decaffeinated coffee? A small cognac?" asked Potter.
"Glass of water," said Andromeda. "My tolerance for floo system soot decreases with each additional year of age."
Holly, the ladies' maid house elf, was delighted to bring a tall glass of water, which Andromeda began sipping.
"Astoria had a question or two, Daphne, and your husband performed admirably," said Andromeda. "He's a natural."
"DADA!" asserted Young Cyrus.
"What did Astoria have on her mind?" asked Daphne.
"Oh, just the turnaround. Relations between Delphi and Miss Lestrange," said Potter. "Wondered since when did the Lestrange clan acknowledge error?"
"Well, Astoria is one thing, but you were masterful in your short conversation with Laurel," said Daphne. "She was bedazzled."
"Ahh…I wouldn't go that far," said Potter.
"Why? There were two principal personalities in the fight. One is dead. Killed by the other one. You. Then you took the closest thing Voldemort had to a girlfriend…"
"You forgot Nagini," said Potter.
"Hush. He wasn't a normal man, everyone here knows it, too. Bellatrix tried to give him an heir," Daphne said.
"True," said Potter.
"How did that come out?" Daphne asked.
"Ah, yes, well, like Dumbledore said, the Dark Lord and I went to some unexplored magical places," Potter semi-answered.
When their last guests had left for home, Potter held his son, giving him his nighttime bottle so Lady Daphne could soak the Samhain bonfire smoke off in a hot tub. Holly, Daphne's devoted elf and companion, could not restrain herself.
"With your permission, Lady Daphne?" Holly asked.
"Yes, Holly?"
"I don't wish to be too forward, Lady Daphne, but I must say that you and Lord Harry hosted a lovely holiday fete for the students tonight," said the elf.
Daphne smiled.
"Holly, there is never a need to hold such a wonderful compliment back," said Daphne. "Excessively forward, or not."
"Thank-you, ma'am, such a fine evening out, for the students," said Holly. "Even Miss Lestrange…"
Daphne waited, in vain, forcing her to follow up.
"Miss Lestrange…?"
"Well, the family—I beg your pardon, my lady, but as you are probably aware, the elves do hear things. Not that it is my place to spread gossip," said Holly.
"I was made aware, by Lady Greengrass, many years ago, Holly. I sense you may wish to stop, where you are?"
"Oh, my, Holly has given offense!" moaned Daphne's elf.
"Not yet," Daphne assured her. "I understand what you are saying. It was a pleasant surprise for me when Miss Lestrange joined us and was so gracious. She even complimented us on Young Cyrus. Such good manners. Let us hope she continues on her new path. It is better for everyone if Miss Delphine does not have, ahh, volatile relations with her contemporaries. In such close quarters, you know."
"Lady Daphne is a genius, or a mind-reader, she presents Holly's thoughts exactly, better than Holly could by herself," the elf bubbled. "Is Lady Daphne finished?"
"I think so, Holly," said Daphne, moving her feet to allow Holly to remove the plug in the tub drain.
For some reason, Holly felt strongly that removing the plug was work and the proper responsibility of the lady's maid elf.
Daphne wrapped herself in the large towel Holly had waiting, good for more than a single wrap and warmed to a delicious degree by a snap of elf-fingers.
"Mmm…you are a gift, Holly, thank-you for everything. Unless there is something else, you're free to go and enjoy whatever activities you have planned," said Daphne.
Holly was, as usual, overjoyed to be dismissed by her mistress, the emotion enhanced by the gracious compliment. For her part, Lady Potter-Black gave herself two sprays from an atomizer she kept filled with a perfume she knew her husband liked. Then she entered their bedroom.
"Right to sleep?" she asked.
"Young Cyrus?" Potter wanted to know. "Or me. Us?"
Daphne untucked the towel, letting it fall to the carpet, holding her position while she pondered her husband's question. She tilted her head as if to ask if he really was that dense.
"HE went right to sleep," said Potter.
His wife moved, finally, drawing out the two or three steps she needed to cross to their bed. A hand grasped the sheet and the blanket that overlay it, flipping a large triangle back. Daphne Potter-Black knelt on the bottom sheet, moving one knee forward, then the other, staring at her husband's waistband and the tent-like phenomenon just below.
"You've been lying in bed, thinking carnal thoughts," she declared as she leaned down.
The Black cousins' informal organization began to grow closer, after the return from Samhain. Harry's remarks, a little cider, along with standing together in the light of the Samhain bonfire, altogether made for solid family bonding. Although not Blacks, Mary Beth and Laurel were pulled along, as if in the vortex trailing the others.
Aware of the past term's strained relations between her friend and Laurel Lestrange, Mary Beth had given some thought to reparative measures. She studied with Delphi several times each week. Sometimes they included the wizards, sometimes they didn't.
"Would you want to be in a study group?" Mary Beth asked during an outside break.
"With a schedule, assignments and everything?" Delphi asked. "Probably not. That would be just like school, wouldn't it?"
"We study together now," said Mary Beth. "Just not formally."
Delphi puzzled over Mary Beth's proposal.
"Lestrange?" she asked, finally.
"Well, she's good at defense," said Mary Beth. "So are you, I could use a little challenge. Runes are easy for me…"
"And I'm a dunce, is that what you're saying?" Delphi asked.
"Well…" Mary Beth tried, before the two started laughing.
"You know…that might be—"
"Yeah. Worthwhile," Mary Beth finished. "You'll have to be the one who asks. I'm the mudblood."
"Stop! I know you're being funny. Not everyone does. Let's think about this," said Delphi.
She didn't consider herself habitually negative to new ideas. Delphi Black would have readily admitted being pleasantly surprised at the outcome of Mary Beth's initiative. The trio began with one session together in a quiet corner of the library. That spot was acknowledged to be designated for group study. No one bothered about low-level conversations. Sound-mitigating charms were appreciated, and the little group embraced the non-rule. The first evening focused on runes, with a teaching aid in the form of a pack of crib cards.
"How did you learn all of that?" Delphi asked as they walked back to the dungeons.
"All of what?" Mary Beth answered.
"Rune drills," Delphi said. "I actually feel like I learned something."
"It's just repetition. Trying to find what will unlock the trunk, so what you hear will stick," Mary Beth explained.
Laurel Lestrange had nothing to add. Neither did she complain about having to be in close proximity to the mudblood.
Laurel was raised in the traditional Lestrange family pureblood orientation. She seldom encountered a non-magical person during her early years. Even trips into London were accomplished via floo or by side-along apparation, limiting the chances for exposure to muggles. Little by little, Mary Beth became more 'witch' and less 'mudblood' in Laurel Lestrange's eyes. In fact, Laurel occasionally crawled into bed, lay back to wait for sleep and noticed a thought bubbling up- that she had gone a whole day without using 'mudblood' in Mary Beth's presence.
Excitement grew with the approach of Yule. Hogwarts' students made volumes of plans for the Yule break. Whether they were realistic was not especially relevant. The park at the center of the Grimmauld Place neighborhood appeared on standard maps of London. Number Twelve wasn't on the maps, although it did exist. Mary Beth Olson assured her parents taking the floo system to the Leaky Cauldron was as safe as getting to school via Hogwarts Express. Then she could navigate her way around London by tube and surface bus. She and Delphi agreed the easiest way to meet would be for Mary Beth to call when she left her house then go to the park and sit. Delphi would watch for her and take care of the rest.
The second full day of Yule break was designated for testing the newly-agreed protocol for getting together. Mary Beth found her way to Grimmauld Place, and the little square, and the park bench across the street from the curious missing townhouse between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen. She sat down and waited for Delphi, who sent her stepmother in her place.
"Mary Beth!"
"Oh, Lady Daphne," the visitor answered as she popped up from the bench. "I thought Delphi…"
"Indeed. She informed me, when she saw you through the window. We're just there…," said Daphne. "We'll cross at the corner and walk around back. Then, it's tea-time."
Daphne sounded so cheerful, Mary Beth missed the strained timbre in her voice. The stroll via Daphne's route was cement sidewalk all the way to a brick-paved alleyway, then past some wooden doors in back walls, then into a lovely townhouse garden.
"Wow," said Mary Beth when they were inside the Potter property.
Daphne stopped so her guest could take in the garden and the compact carriage barn/potting shed/shop that anchored one corner of the lot.
"Yes, you're looking at what was, at one time, the standard back garden treatment for a townhouse in this part of London," said Daphne. "Lord Harry can't stop going on about how fortunate he was, to be adopted by his godfather. Have you come across Sirius Black in your reading? It's a tragic story, literally, and Harry would much prefer to have a living godfather than title to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. As consolation prizes go, however…Here, just through the patio and we're there."
Daphne stepped up to the door that led inside, turned the knob and stood aside for Delphi's guest. The welcoming party comprised Delphi, Ane, Harry Potter and Young Cyrus, known to his sisters as Potter Greengrass.
"Mary Beth!" Delphi semi-squealed as she hugged her friend.
Once free, Mary Beth greeted Young Cyrus, who drooled on her finger, Harry and Ane.
"Welcome!" said Harry. "Have a seat? Cup of tea? Kreacher!"
She didn't really feel the need for a cup of tea right then, but once it arrived, Mary Beth found it did hit the spot after being out in the December air.
"How is your family?" Delphi asked.
"Great. They want to know all about school. My parents know about the International Convention, of course, so they don't pry, exactly. My younger sister may have some magic. She's quiet, but she observes. I feel like, when she looks at me, she's studying," said Mary Beth.
"Oh, wouldn't that be nice?" Ane offered. "If she could come to Hogwarts with you, I mean."
"Sure," said Mary Beth. "She could. Who knows? What is that lovely tapestry? It looks like a family tree."
"Delphi—why don't you?" asked Harry, gesturing.
With that, Harry, Daphne and Young Cyrus took their leave, while Ane and Delphi got ready to explain their places in the family tree.
"I'm all for letting the youth explore a little," Daphne began.
"Yes. Good plan," Potter agreed.
"Delphi saw Mary Beth across the street and was going to get her. I asked her to let me do it. I believe the witches meant to meet, then Delphi would bring her muggle-born chum right back, climb the steps and come on inside."
"Okay," Potter said, then waited.
"What if Mary Beth couldn't see the house? Or the steps? What if a neighbor saw two girls disappear as they crossed the wards?" Daphne wanted to know.
"Ah. Of course," said Potter. "Need a bit more practice at thinking things through."
"The whole block is non-magical, except this house and family," said Daphne, inducing a moment of head-nodding in her husband. "Thus the numbering that skips Twelve. A curious, non-magical observer might begin to over-think such a phenomenon."
"Possible, I grant you," said Potter, whose back was beginning to ache from the imbalance caused by carrying his son in a modified frontpack.
"All I'm saying, Harry, is one of us needs to have a quiet, non-confrontational conversation," Daphne finished up.
"Got it," said Potter. "Could you…Young Cyrus…Ahhh, thanks. My job. I'll do it. She's plenty smart. I'm sure she just wanted to show her friend a good time. Everyone will be here for lunch, won't they? Any other activities on the schedule?"
"Letting a couple of witches explore being witches on Yule break," said Daphne.
"I guess that's enough," muttered Potter.
"You have no idea. You were never a witch!" Daphne replied.
She went off somewhere, to do something, leaving Potter to roll her last statement around, considering it from different angles.
Potter, well aware of his older daughter's proficiency with magic, assumed her muggle-born friend would not be far behind. As for Ane, the use of serpensortia, in conjunction with an index finger substituting for a wand, spoke for itself. The younger Black witch was a prodigy, no doubt about it. Potter dithered, trying to stay close enough to overhear conversation without seeming to snoop on the witches. His plan was to listen for an opening before joining the conversation with an, "Oh! Have you thought of this?"
The moment arrived when Potter heard Ane telling the others to, "…get back!" A silent approach to the second drawing room enabled him to peer through the doorway, catching Ane readying her casting-finger. The tableau spoke volumes.
"Ahem."
The finger was retracted and three witches turned toward Potter.
"What?"
"Well, I was just going to get my snake out, Dad, because, you know, he could get a cramp…"
"Ane."
That was all it took to generate a furious blush and averting of eyes.
"Look. Maybe this isn't the place?" said Potter.
"I…I guess," Ane mumbled.
Potter crossed the room to the door leading outside, to the patio.
"Just this way," he said. "Anyone need a coat? Okay..."
The group crossed the patio to the garden shed. Potter waved his wand to open the door, then again to light some lanterns.
"Watch your step," said Potter.
The shed wasn't in the cleanest condition. Besides the usual collection of garden tools, Potter had a small hoard of steel scrap. The scrap came in handy when the household had a repair job that required a nut, bolt, nail, plate or piece of angle iron. Using a wand to fabricate a part from scrap steel was fun. If the job was beyond Potter's technical ability, he had an elf who liked a challenge.
"Just levitate that crate out of the way, Delphi," Potter said. "Drop it over there by the wall. Yes, the old keg, too. That's just some stuff I thought might come in handy. Mary Beth, do you know a sweeping charm? There we go…"
Cleanup was fun, using Potter's approach.
"That's good. Now, Ane?" he said.
"Yes, Dad," said Ane.
"Can I guess what you wanted to show Mary Beth, back there in the house?"
"Pro-bably," said Ane, drawing out the word.
"Well, if you don't think you'll burn our shed down, or cause some kind of catastrophe, you can go ahead," said Potter.
Conjuring Little Snake No-Name proceeded accordingly, without incident.
"How does she do that?" asked Mary Beth, who thought herself adept with a wand, considering the limited amount of time since she'd begun the formal study of magic.
"Not sure I have an answer," said Potter. "It's a pretty remarkable thing to see, though, don't you think?"
The two older witches agreed, to Ane's obvious delight.
"Not to be overbearing about it, but something we'd want to keep to ourselves," Potter said. "Mary Beth, you know about our house, don't you? Number Twelve?"
"Yes, Lord Harry, Delphi told me all about it," she answered. "Invisible. That's so cool."
"That was a good idea, meeting in the park," Potter said. "Except—"
He looked at Delphi, who turned beet-red.
"Uh—" she said.
"Yes?" said Potter.
"Well, uh, that is, I hadn't thought about the neighbors, but Mum Daphne took care of that. She brought Mary Beth around here, in the back!"
"That she did," said Potter. "That was a good solution. If you want to, you can use it again, just remember to do the same thing, only in reverse."
The witches agreed there was something to what Potter had just said. The group turned its attention to Little Snake No-Name.
Ane's pride and joy was still a little snake that did not seem to eat anything, at least not while it was conjured into the rational world, so it tired quickly. When it became sluggish, Ane put it away with the evanesco charm. The group exited to the patio, then on to the second drawing room.
"What's for lunch?" Potter asked, resulting in Kreacher popping into existence, bearing an announcement that lunch would feature tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, which would take about five minutes to prepare and bring to the table.
"Someone locate Lady Daphne and bring her the news, so she can comment or join us or whatever she wants…" said Potter.
Delphi and Ane split, Ane going to check the dining room and main salon, Delphi bringing Mary Beth along to the stairs. Potter waited for the group to clear out, then took the stairs down to the basement beneath Number Twelve. He went into a storage room with a number of shelves lining the walls. The contents were well-disorganized, so retrieval of a desired item was an exercise in matching inspiration with some inefficient searching. Nevertheless, Potter was able to find his quarry in an acceptable timeframe.
"Aha!" he said to himself before leaving and returning to the stairs.
"Right," said Potter as he entered the kitchen.
Kreacher had bowls of soup ready on the table. The elf had returned to his station before the range, where he was absorbed in making the grilled cheese sandwiches for which he was somewhat renowned.
"Lady Daphne?" asked Potter.
"Busy with Potter," answered Delphi. "She said to start without her and she'd be along."
"Oh. Right then. Let's begin," said Potter as he picked up his spoon.
Potter picked up his spoon, but his tablemates sat, staring at the pad-like items he'd tossed down.
"Uh…Harry?" asked Delphi.
"Yes?" Potter answered.
"Are you going to tell us what those are?"
Potter was picking up the curiosities as the three witches were picking up spoons.
"Something I ran across. I wondered if we'd get a chance to use them. My father, James, and Sirius Black made them when they were at Hogwarts. They're tablets, just not ordinary tablets. Look."
Potter slid one of the tablets across the table so the witches could see the writing surface.
"I can write, just here," he said as he grasped a stylus.
"Hello!" appeared on the tablet upon which Potter did not write. Gasps and mutterings came back from across the table.
"So whoever has one of these can send a message to whoever has the other one, and vice versa," said Potter.
"Like e-mail, without computers," Mary Beth observed.
"Exactly," said Potter. "Also several hundred years older. I haven't seen anything that says when the first ones appeared. Obviously, the witches and wizards kept it to themselves. So, would you want to use these?"
"Can we?" asked Delphi.
"Really?" queried Mary Beth.
"Ought to save us from little missteps like this morning's," said Potter.
"Mmm…Dad?" asked Ane.
"When you go to school," said Potter. "The spells don't look very hard, or complicated. I'll see if I can make another one."
Ane sat back in her chair, making room for Kreacher to deliver the plate with her grilled cheese sandwich. Potter thought she made a good effort to appear interested, while her eyes indicated Ane's mind was elsewhere.