Envy - Potter Chronicles

So a massive thanks to Dorothea again with this one, I have had to split it into two parts because we get so carried away with the ideas! But in all seriousness I would not be able to create the tales I do with her insight so thank you.

This will be a two part story and after its finished I think I will give my beta and I some well-earned breathing room.

Takes place between On a Night Like This & May It Be.

Enjoy!

…

His stomach was a combination of knots that even the most seasoned sailor would struggle to untie. Tonight, was the night: he was going to propose to his girlfriend.

He was going to propose to his girlfriend!

Gods, he felt like throwing up.

They had lived together two years now, the fact that Daphne had moved in with him and he hadn't asked her right away had caused quite the scandal amongst the wizarding community. He had learnt the hard way that wizarding culture was again far different to Muggles when it came to relationships, or courting, as they would refer to it.

Harry stepped out of the lift once it reached the Legal Department, glad to have unmoving ground under his feet again. He'd never be a fan of the ministry lifts and their quirky ways of navigating the building.

He checked his watch, he had a few minutes to spare before Daphne finished her day. He pushed the door to the department open and made his way through the long corridor towards Daphne's office.

The legal offices were considerably different from his own, each solicitor had their own office which held their teams with them, a far cry from the open plan design of the Auror Office. Despite being the Conquerer-of-the-Dark-Lord, he was still an Auror in training and at the lower end of the food chain of the Auror Department. Working in the cube-farm wasn't his thing at all, the noise level and frequent interruptions drove him up the walls. At least the Order of Merlin, first class, he got after the Battle of Hogwarts came with a seat on the Wizengamot and his own, private office on the level reserved for the Wizengamot, so he could take his files there and work on them.

On his way to Daphne's office laughter coming from the slightly ajar door caught his attention.

"Lisa, you need to stop taunting the poor man and just go out with him!"

His heart jumped as he recognised the voice of his girlfriend.

"We all can't be as lucky as you and snag the sexy Man-Who-Conquered, can we!" a giggling female voice replied.

"You try dealing with all the witches who think it's alright to openly flirt with him, even though I'm right there!" Daphne huffed, although she didn't sound angry.

A pang of guilt shot through his already tender stomach. She had every right to be angry, some of those witches were shameful at those events.

Then his voice came up.

The prat's.

Daphne's desk partner, Jeremiah "Jerry" Fawley. Twenty-five, handsome in an effeminate way that made Harry grind his teeth each time he met him, suave, from a rich Pureblood family - and openly after Daphne.

"Well, those witches have nothing on Daphne, and Harry would do well to remember that."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Could the prat be any more obvious in his pursuit of Daphne?

"I think that's Auror Potter to you, Jerry, and Harry doesn't need a reminder of what a treasure Daphne is. Have you ever seen the way he looks at Daph?" There was more than just a tad of disapproval in Lisa's voice.

Good girl! The corners of Harry's mouth turned up in a smile.

"Harry is very attentive, not that those sluts get the message," Daphne said.

Harry's stomach lurched, he knew his girlfriend well enough to sense the annoyance in her tone. Was she annoyed at Jerry? Or was she annoyed at him for not doing more to wave off those women? What if it was the latter? He always made a point of showering her with extra attention whenever those Harpies were clawing at him, not that they ever got the point. Funny that someone as beautiful and composed as Daphne harboured any insecurities behind her well-bred façade. The sensationalist newspaper coverage they'd got when their relationship first became public really had done a number on her.

"Well, if you were my girlfriend, no one would come near you," Jerry's complacent voice rang out.

Harry's stomach jolted. That bastard needed to back off! That was enough. He raised his arm to knock on the door. Lisa's voice made him halt.

"I hardly see the women queuing up for you, Jerry. Always thought you'd have to fight off the men."

Harry smirked; that was a low blow, yet one the git deserved for his complacency. There was a reason why he'd always liked Lisa.

His knuckles bounced off the solid door, and the conversation within the office stopped.

"Come in!"

He pushed the door open. His stomach jumped around like a niffler hunting for gold at the thought of what he was planning to do tonight.

"Harry!" Daphne beamed at him as he entered. She jumped up from her seat, rushed towards him, and gave him a swift peck on the lips.

He put one arm around her waist, pulled her slightly towards him, and responded with a short, yet firm kiss of his own. Hah, that would show the git!

The action drew an approving smile from Lisa, whereas Jerry looked down at his files, a frown on his face.

"Are you ready to go?" Harry asked his girlfriend, his heart in his throat as he tried to keep his voice even. The big moment was coming closer!

Daphne's smile faltered.

His stomach dropped.

"Oh, I'm staying late tonight, didn't I tell you this morning? Jerry needs help with some of the case files. He's been such a trooper recently, always there when I was overwhelmed with that complicated Alderthorpe case, so I ought to return the favour." The last sentence was accompanied with a bright smile at the git.

Harry's stomach dropped even lower. Why tonight, of all nights?

Jerry sat up straight and returned Daphne's smile with a smug one of his own. Daphne didn't notice, her attention was already back on Harry. The git's gaze briefly travelled over her body.

Harry's face hardened, he did not like the way that arsehole was looking at Daphne, not at all.

Jerry must've caught the slight change in his expression from the corner of his eye, for the smugness of his smile became even more pronounced.

Why couldn't his smart girlfriend see to what the git was up to? He might as well advertise in The Daily Prophet that he wanted to get into Daphne's knickers.

He schooled his face in a neutral expression and forced himself to talk slow. "You didn't mention it, no." It wouldn't do to give his concerns about Jerry and his disappointment away. "I was cooking your favourite tonight, remember?"

"Oh, could we do it another night? These files need doing tonight, and I've said I'd help." She dropped her head, and her hands fiddled with the loose belt she wore around her robes.

So she was disappointed? Well, that didn't help against the void that seemed to open in his chest, or the hollow flutter in his heart. He had so looked forward to tonight...

What does a girl like her see in a freak like you?

Uncle Vernon's voice, long ago buried in the recesses of his mind, yet never truly forgotten, resonated through his head. He flinched.

"I can stay instead," Lisa said.

He held his breath and gave Daphne a questioning glance. That sounded like a good compromise.

Daphne turned towards Lisa and shook her head. "No, you have that date tonight. I said I'd help, so that's on me to do." She faced Harry again with a sweet smile. "Sorry, love, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

The void in his chest grew bigger.

"It's really no bother Daph," Lisa said, a slight frown on her face.

"Honestly, it's fine, Harry and I cook every night. One night won't matter." Daphne dismissed her offer with a flutter of her hand. She kissed Harry's cheek and took her seat again.

Harry forced himself to stand upright, not to let his posture give away his disappointment. His eyes hung at the back of his girlfriend. Couldn't she realise that tonight was important for him?

The cocky smile Jerry gave Daphne did not help matters, neither did the small smirk he gave in his direction when Daphne bent down to take something out of the drawer of her desk.

He squared his shoulders, planted his legs a little wider, while his right hand casually travelled to his wand pocket, and glowered at the dunce.

His action wiped the smirk off Jerry's face, he lowered his head and pretended to be occupied with the file in front of him.

Harry permitted himself a faint grin. Seemed the git almost shat himself. The next moment his grin faded. What by Hades did Daphne see in that moron that she always spoke so highly of him?

Lisa was looking at his girlfriend with an unreadable expression.

Yeah, right, he didn't know what to think, either. Daphne had been given two chances to come home, but she had chosen to stay behind with Jerry.

"Well, I shall see you tonight then," he said in the neutral tone he had adopted in his time with the Auror Department.

"I will do, love!" she replied, not looking up from her work.

He spun on his heel and left to make his way to the Floo channels. The memory of the smirk on Jerry's face caused his anger to flare up again. The unreadable expression on Lisa's face also was concerning. Did Daphne not know how this looked to a self-important Pureblood like Jerry? They all thought of themselves as Merlin's gift to yet unmarried girls, Daphne had complained about that often enough to him when they talked about her upbringing. Surely she could read the signs of the man's behaviour?

Of course she can, and she's flattered by the attention of a more sophisticated man than you can ever hope to be!

Uncle Vernon's voice made its presence known once again.

Harry gritted his teeth. The damnable man didn't have power over him anymore.

Hadn't he?

…

Back in the Greengrass cottage in Cornwall, he slumped down at the foot of the bed he shared with Daphne. Mrs Greengrass had offered him her cottage as a place to live when he told her of Grimmauld Place and how the house had been destroyed to spite him while he was in hiding. Daphne had moved in right away with him, a fact that made her father wince until today.

Today, however, he had no eyes for the beautiful sundown displayed through the bedroom window. He propped his elbows on his thighs and covered his face with the palms of his hands. To say he felt completely rejected was an understatement. Why had she chosen to stay with Jerry instead of coming home with him, was there something going on? Was that the reason she denied that the git fancied her? Was she hiding something?

Memories of their time together crossed his mind, the big events like the day he'd been awarded the Order of Merlin and she'd beamed with pride, and the many small things they shared: their first Christmas together, walks on the beach, the long talks, cuddled up against each other in front of the fireplace, or the soft kisses over breakfast.

He lowered his hands and sat up. No. He was overthinking this way too much, and overreacting, too. Daphne loved him, that was obvious. They both were teased constantly back at work for how smitten they were with one another. On top of that Daphne was loyal to a fault, she'd been willing to sacrifice her happiness for her family, for Merlin's sake.

To be fair, she had no idea what his plans were this evening, so she wouldn't know that staying late would impact that.

They were all logical arguments. His brain told him he was making a mountain out of a molehill. Yet that fear of loss that festered in his heart ever since the day he'd woken up at Privet Drive and his parents were gone began to creep it's ugly tentacles around his thoughts, taunting him, threatening him that he would always be alone in the end.

He fished out the box that held the engagement ring he had picked out with Hermione. He chuckled to himself, so much for his oath during the year in hiding that he would never shop with that girl again. Although she had been a great help, when it came to sound out people, she rivalled the best of Slytherin. She'd spent a girl's night with Daphne, and when they went shopping the next day, she had a detailed description of the ring Daphne dreamed of for him.

He snapped open the box. The simple platinum band, crested with a princess cut diamond, nestled on a bed of purple silk. The ring was as refined as the woman it was intended for.

The sight of the ring brought back the memory of Daphne cancelling their dinner, and the smug look on his face.

A ugly runt like you won't keep a girl like that, she'll cheat on you the moment your back is turned.

Uncle Vernon's words, accompanied by Aunt Petunia's shrill laughter, echoed within his mind. His gut clenched. He'd been foolish to go back and speak with his so-called family. He may have gotten the last word in, but the remarks they had made that day had touched a few nerves.

She likely already has, who would want someone like you? Everything you touch is ruined, your parents, those other little freaks at that school of yours, and you ruined our home!

Daphne had not taken the insults quietly, she had defended him when he had been too shocked to comprehend the level of hatred that came from them. Why had he been shocked into speechlessness? He should have known what to expect from them.

He pressed his lips together, he'd better push back those memories into the recesses of his mind, dwelling on the past would only add to his morose mood.

He rose from the bed and removed his shirt in front of the mirror. With each button that parted he revealed a well built chest and a well formed stomach. That was the picture the world had of him.

All he saw, however, were the scars, the ones he had managed to hide for so long from his friends at school. He loathed them, the symbol of his weakness.

Strange enough, he'd not once considered hiding them from her. She would whisper during their nights together how beautiful he was, how those scars were nothing, and her soft fingers would trace them gently.

And healing set in. Warmth spread in his chest, with Daphne in his life the loneliness and abuse of his youth had become a distant memory.

Yet where was she now? Laughing together with Jerry in the empty office? Alone. Did his hand reach out to touch hers? Would she allow it or not?

Gods, what had going down the Dursley memory line done to him? If Jerry so much as lay a finger on her he would likely receive a few nasty hexes for his troubles.

His gaze met his eyes in the mirror. They were full of fear, that overwhelming fear of loss that clouded his reasoning, no matter how sound the logic.

She could do better.

Uncle Vernon's voice refused to be shut up for long.

He turned away from the mirror, threw on a crimson top, and exited the bedroom.

She thinks of him whilst she's with you, look how eager she was to stay tonight.

Enough! He wouldn't listen to the voice of the waleruss any longer. Perhaps a walk would do him some good. At least the sound of the waves would drown out Vernon's voice.

The uncoordinated sound of nails on wood greeted him as he entered the kitchen. Ellie, their excitable four-month-old border-collie pup, came skidding around the corner. In her eagerness to greet him the puppy failed to stop her slide in time, her paws slid away from under her, and the momentum made her crash into the bin that sat under the breakfast counter. She let out a surprised yelp, yet it didn't curb her excitement. She shook herself and bounded towards him, tripping over, and flopped down at his feet, her tail wagging so fast it seemed to be a blur.

For the first time since Daphne had turned him down a genuine smile appeared on Harry's face. He bent down and gave their puppy, who had flopped on her back, a good belly rub.

"Do you want to go to the beach?"

He got an excited yelp for an answer. Ellie jumped back on her paws, grabbed his trouser cuff by the ankle, and tried to pull him towards the hallway.

The sea air as well as the brisk walk gave him the break he needed to get his head in order. One hour later he and Ellie returned from their walk along the beach. The puppy at once ran to her water bowl to quench her thirst, while he hung up her lead and let out a deep breath. It seemed his demons were at bay for the time being.

"Hello sweetpea, I brought some wine home!" Daphne's voice called from the kitchen.

He smiled, it seemed tonight was going to end on a much better note than it had started. The smile still on his face, he walked towards the kitchen, his favourite room in the house. Some of his happiest memories were connected to this room. Here their formal relationship had started, and they'd spent many an hour here bonding over cooking together, which more than once had led to other, more exciting bonding activities on the kitchen island counter. They'd shared many a meal at the small table next to the window, and had lingered over a glass of wine afterwards, just talking and laughing together for hours, while dusk turned into night.

He opened the door to the kitchen, and his eyes fell on a vase on the island counter, filled with a mix of lavender and pink roses. Daphne stood next to the island counter, she looked at a small card made of finest parchment in her hand, and a small smile graced her perfect lips.

His guts turned into a pit of ice, and his breath hitched.

Daphne never bought herself flowers.

I told you she found another, it's already begun.

Uncle Vernon's voice was back at the forefront of his mind in an instant. Each muscle in his body seemed to stiffen.

"Who are those from?"

His voice sounded foreign in his ears. There was only one person he could think of right now, and who would give her flowers. Gods, how he hoped his assumption was wrong.

She looked up at him, her smile widened, and that warm, loving look in her eyes that was meant for him only thawed away some of the ice that spread through his body.

How long until he wouldn't see that look again?

She took a deep sniff of the flower heads. "They are a thank you from Jerry, he sent his house elf to pick them up, aren't they lovely?"

His heart thundered in his ears, his stomach turned into a hard rock, and he gulped down his shaking breath in an effort to keep himself from turning around and hiding in a dark corner until the pain in his heart would fade away.

How could she be this blind to the advances of the prat?

And what if he was overreacting again?

His logical side won, and he hid his emotional turmoil behind an expressionless face.

He had experienced envy early on in his sixth year at Hogwarts, when he had developed a crush on Ginny Weasley seemingly out of nowhere. It had led to nothing, she'd been with Dean Thomas back then and still was to his knowledge. No, he had no desire to feel that ugly monster in his chest ever again, yet its sinful claws were gripping him whenever he thought of the prat.

"How nice of him."

Daphne flinched at the coolness in Harry's voice. She searched his face; his expression was blank, and his vivid eyes she loved so much seemed empty.

Her stomach lurched. What was wrong with him?

She placed down the note and moved towards him.

"Is everything alright?"

She reached out to touch his arm. He moved away from her touch, further into the kitchen, and leaned with his back against the island, his arms crossed.

Her stomach fluttered, he never avoided her touch. Something was seriously wrong.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Again, his reply was void of any discernible emotion. What had got into him? Had something happened at the office she was unaware of?

"Harry, please talk to me. I know something is wrong."

He didn't answer; leaned on the kitchen island, his eyes rested on the flowers Jerry had given her. He couldn't possibly be bothered about those, could he?

"They are just flowers, Harry -."

"When a Pureblood male wishes to imply intentions of courting a Pureblood woman, aren't flowers the first gift? And acceptance of those shows willingness to enter into a courtship. Weren't you the one who taught me those rules?"

"What of it? Harry, I am in a relationship with you, I love you, he knows that."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't Jerry a Pureblood? And a rather conservative one at that? A woman is only off limits to him if you are married, correct?"

The coldness in his voice made her shudder. She opened her mouth to reject his assumptions, but he held up his hand to stop her.

"He gave you roses, lavender and pink ones. Doesn't that ring an alarm bell? You were the one who made me learn everything about flowers and their meaning, so I wouldn't make a blunder if I had to send flowers to a hostess as a thank you. You emphasised how careful I had to be especially with roses and their various colours. If my memory doesn't deceive me, lavender roses mean love at first sight and enchantment, while pink roses mean admiration, grace, and sweetness, don't they?"

"Harry, those are old traditions... This is just a gift from a friend."

They were, weren't they? Nobody cared about these things anymore after the war, he was looking far too deeply into this. Yet heat shot in her cheeks, and she averted her eyes from him, although a small part of her was flattered he cared this much.

"Did you buy Lisa flowers when she stayed with you last month?" His voice had lost nothing of its coldness.

"No but-." She paused with an inward wince. He had a point, presenting flowers to a lady was an old method of declaring intentions to court her, although nobody of their generation gave a damn about these traditions nowadays.

"It was just a thank you." She shrugged his concerns off.

"Normally I would agree, but I've seen the way that man looks at you. I also know that he does not extend the same generosity to Lisa." His voice was even harder now.

Looked at her? Jerry was a friend and nothing more.

"Harry, I think you are looking too much into this."

His mask slipped at her words, and although his face kept its blankness, his eyes became dark with an emotion she'd seen him display only once before, when they visited his despicable relatives. There was a vulnerability about him that made her heart constrict and want to comfort him. He was never like this, something must have rocked him for this uncharacteristic display.

She moved to be closer to him, and he again moved away from her.

Her stomach clenched, his rejection hurt.

"Am I? We had plans tonight Daphne, Lisa even offered to cover for you and you still chose to stay."

That was why he was upset? Because she chose to stay behind? Wasn't that a bit - childish?

"Harry, we cook together every night, it was just this once. I don't understand why this is bothering you so much?" It happened now and again, one of them having to work late, so what in Merlin's name was bothering him so much?

"I think I've made it clear what is bothering me, Daphne."

"And I think you are looking into it too much. Even if Jerry did fancy me, I love you, I am with you!"

"And what about what the flowers represent?"

"Those customs are old, Harry, nobody of our age cares about them."

"That's true for you, maybe, but not for someone like him. Look at it from his point of view!"

"It was nothing," she repeated.

His shoulders sagged, and a resigned look crossed his face, as though a memory was playing in his head.

"Forget I said anything." He sighed in defeat and picked up the note that came with the flowers.

She bit her lip, damn, the note wouldn't help his train of thought.

"Thank you for tonight, yours, Jerry x," he read out loud.

He looked up at her, a look of resignation crossed his face.

Daphne's heart went heavy in her chest. Something must have happened at work today, this wasn't Harry, her confident and self assured Harry.

"Harry... Look, should we just have a drink and cuddle up on the sofa? It's been a long day, and I just wanted to come home and be held by you." She tried to keep her voice soft to soothe the tension in the room.

He shook his head. "I think... I think I just need to go to bed, Daphne. Are you coming?" His shoulders were hunched, and his tone was flat, mirroring his deflated posture.

Her throat tightened, why was he this distant, shunning her touch? They rarely fought, and this couldn't be considered a fight, but the haunted and dejected look on his face hurt.

"I'll be along in a moment," she said quietly.

He nodded again and left the kitchen.

A low whine came from the kitchen door. She turned her head.

Their pup stood in the doorway, watching Harry go, her tail unmoving between her hind legs. As though she sensed Daphne's gaze, Ellie turned her head and looked right at her, confusion evident in the pup's amber eyes. She let out another low whine and followed Harry out of the room.

Now she was in the doghouse... twice over.

Her gaze fell on the flowers and the note Harry had tossed onto the island counter. She bit her lip. Was he right?

By the older customs her accepting the flowers gifted by a man was an indicator she was receptive to his advances, and as she wasn't married she was considered fair game. Had she been naive? She'd considered that practice long dead, for Merlin's sake.

She sighed and put the wine glasses she had got out for her and Harry back into the kitchen cabinet, her heart heavy in her chest. The man she loved had rejected her, and it hurt.

Harry inspected an old scar on his stomach as she entered the bedroom. His eyes in the reflection of the mirror were miles away, that deeply he was lost in his thoughts.

She was well aware of the story behind that scar, caused when he was nine. That bastard of a cousin and his friends had chased him till exhaustion, he had fallen over and landed on a broken bottle. She had cried herself to sleep when she heard the stories of his childhood, he seemed to be so strong and sure of himself on the outside. Tonight reminded her that under the confident exterior was a neglected young boy who just wanted to be loved.

She pushed her battered pride aside, walked over to him, and encircled her arms around his waist. She pressed herself into his strong back. He had to feel that she loved him, hadn't he?

He flinched.

Her heart sank, why did he recoil at her touch suddenly? Her eyes welled up. She wanted to help him with whatever was troubling him.

"I love you, you know that?" she whispered.

"I love you, too." He turned in her arms.

She looked up. Was the warmth back in those emerald eyes?

He met her searching gaze with that same resigned look, and she slumped. Before she could say anything, he lowered his head, and his lips gently pressed to hers. Her arms snaked around his neck as he held her waist. Their kiss was slow and soft, it eased her tender nerves somewhat, but still something was missing from him.

"I'm sorry about tonight, I'm just tired, that's all."

She nodded, not sure her voice wouldn't betray her hurt. He was keeping the truth from her, but she wouldn't press, that's not how it worked with Harry.

They both undressed and got into bed. Harry did not reach out to her for love making, and she didn't expect it. Whatever had caused tonight clearly still weighed on his mind, and now her own.

She wouldn't sleep well that night.

...

Harry lay on his side and stared out of the bedroom window. It would be so easy to wipe this whole drama away. He just had to turn over, draw his girlfriend into his arms, and be with her.

His body was screaming at him to go for this simple solution, to make her his; that primal urge to mark territory sung within him, now he believed there was a potential rival.

Yet he refrained.

His mind still battered him with images of her and Jerry he knew to not be true, but they came nonetheless: an illicit affair in the office, the two laughing at him behind his back. Daphne would sense that his heart wasn't in it, and she would be even more hurt and confused. Their relationship had had a strong physical aspect right from the beginning, and he'd turned to that side whenever his feelings became too complicated or confusing to express them in words. Daphne always seemed to understand.

Would she tonight?

That was doubtful.

No, logic was his ally right now, and he needed sleep to sort out this mess tomorrow. He was too raw to seek out sexual comfort and get back that instinctive understanding that had blossomed between them on that night in the Room of Requirement, and that had grown into something too precious and wonderful for mere words to describe his feelings. Tomorrow, however, would be a different story. Perhaps their passion would be renewed and the spontaneity of the act would firmly place him in her mind.

Perhaps.

He sighed, for now sleep was required for his ragged mind. He loved her, and that only made the fear that gnawed at him worse.

…

Something warm and wet nudged against her cheek.

"Harry?" Daphne groaned, half asleep, and turned on her back, her eyes still closed. A high pitched bark shook her from her dozing, and she opened her eyes wide and turned her head into the direction of the noise.

Ellie was on her back next to her, and looking at her from upside down.

She laughed at the puppy's antics and ruffled her belly. "You aren't meant to be in the bed, are you, little madam!"

She sat up, and looked around. Harry's side of the bed was empty. The clock on their bedside showed that it was six in the morning. She yawned and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Harry would likely be in the kitchen, making breakfast.

Harry! Her stomach tied itself into a knot. His kiss before bed hadn't held the same vigour as normal, and that look in his eyes had troubled her even more. At first she'd thought he was jealous, the way he focussed on Jerry and the flowers he'd given her, but his eyes told a different story. He'd looked resigned. But why?

She fussed Ellie a little more and got out of bed. She would go find him and remind him firmly that she was his and no one else's. Maybe that would drive his demons away.

The kitchen was too quiet as she approached. She entered the kitchen, and he was nowhere to be seen.

"Harry?" she called out.

Nothing.

She walked back into the hallway and peeked her head into the living room. It was also empty. The silence in the small house was haunting, cold and unforgiving. Her heart beat in her ears, and the palms of her hands became moist.

What had happened? Yes, something was bothering him, but for him to leave without saying a word? That was not like Harry.

She walked back into the kitchen. Her eyes fell on a piece of folded card by the toaster she had overlooked before. Her heart froze, was this his final goodbye note to her? She shook herself. She was being dramatic, Harry would never do that to her. She picked up the note.

Morning Love,

I am sorry, I had to go in early, there has been movement on a situation we've been watching.

I have walked and fed Ellie this morning, and there is a cheese and ham toastie under a Stasis Charm by the sink. I will see you at lunch time.

Sorry about last night, work is a little tough right now, but I shouldn't have brought it home. I hope you can forgive me.

I love you xx

P.S: Wear a dress or skirt.

A great weight seemed to lift from her shoulders and left her somewhat lightheaded and giddy, yet there was still a bubbling concern within her. That look of resignation in his eyes last night… She had only seen it on their first night together. He'd thought he wouldn't survive his encounter with Voldemort. That threat to his life was over, so what had brought on that look now? Surely there couldn't be another threat to magicalkind? Another threat to him?

She pushed that anxiety away, he would tell her if something had happened that posed a threat to their happiness. Her stomach gave a small growl, and she walked to the sink and lifted the Stasis Charm from the toastie he'd made for her and took a bite.

Mmmh, warm and crisp, just as she liked it. Harry was a fantastic cook.

His thoughtfulness warmed her heart and put a broad smile on her face. She gave a small peck to the x-es on the note, then clutched it to her heart. A chuckle escaped her; how silly she was! She'd better readied herself for the day, she had to pick out a dress, after all.

…

If I can impart any lessons from this fiction piece, it is that communication and empathy are key to any relationship, this will be a happy ending (I don't do sad ones).