My name is Countess Daphne Potter. Let me tell you about my best friend, the man that I love, my lover, the Father of my children, the Lord of our House, the Boy-Who-Lived and the Defeater of the Dark Lord. Let me tell you about my Harry…
30 June 1996
The bruised, bloody and broken body of Harry Potter stumbled down the sidewalk of Privet Drive.
Just before the intersection of Privet Drive and Magnolia Walk his body gave out and he collapsed on the lawn of Norman and Anthony Bates. The gay couple had been the talk of the area for the last year after they moved in, but Harry had liked them well enough. They'd absorbed most of the malicious gossip which in Harry's mind was a good thing; heat on you is heat off me.
He lay on the grass panting and bleeding from his nose, left ear and numerous cuts and scrapes. There was a stabbing pain in his chest when he breathed in and he occasionally coughed up blood. Both of his eyes were swollen to slits, his nose badly broken and flattened across his face. His lips were split and if you looked closely, you could see the stumps of his broken off front teeth. There was an odd cut across the bridge of Harry's nose where his shattering glasses had cut him as they ended their career. After all the repairing, both magical and mundane, they'd finally given up the ghost in the face of Vernon's rage.
Harry had hoped that the confrontation at Platform 9 ¾ by members of the Order of the Phoenix would help him some for the forthcoming summer.
He was wrong.
In an enraged fit, Vernon decided to show Harry who was really in charge.
Harry had been washing the pots and pans after dinner, Petunia always insisted they be done by hand so as not to ruin the non-stick finish. His thoughts were in their newly accustomed pattern: self-loathing for the perceived responsibility for Sirius' death.
Without warning, Vernon's meaty paw grabbed the hair on the back of the young Wizard's head and slammed his face into the porcelain ridge of the kitchen sink, shattering Harry's front two teeth.
So it began.
It ended with Harry's stumbling out of the house an hour later; wand broken, magical possessions burned in his trunk in the back garden and Harry evicted from the house with nothing but the clothes on his back. As Harry lay on the Bates' lawn, he had only one thought flit through his pain-addled mind: "Help Me"
With a pop, Harry left Privet Drive for the last time in his life.
Daphne Greengrass hated her life.
Maybe that was a bit strong, but her father was a right vicious bastard. He never hit her, but his tongue was as sharp as a razor and he was not averse to using some the Lesser Pain curses such as the Torqueo Curse to make his point. Like he had tonight.
It had started as a mild disagreement; Cyrus Greengrass wanted Daphne to publicly align herself with Draco Malfoy at school. To Daphne, this was an obvious ploy to have her act as her father's spokesman.
The Greengrass family would be known to support the Dark Lord, yet not have to publicly risk themselves. Cyrus would never put himself in a position where he would have to meet with some of the people of whom he was secretly terrified. Bellatrix and Rodulphus Lestrange casually came to mind. Not only would he be able to avoid the uncomfortable acquaintance, but he never really had to commit to do anything. This way, if the unthinkable happened and the Dark Lord was defeated, he had no mark. He'd done nothing illegal.
A very cunning idea that Daphne wanted absolutely nothing to do with. Secretly, she wondered if her father wasn't being a bit naïve. Surely the Dark Lord would come to claim what was being inferred, wouldn't he? Daphne had tried to subtly turn him away by making noises of understanding while eating her dinner, yet never really agreeing with him or acceding to his 'request'. She was not the only Slytherin in the house, though, and he recognized her game.
He directly asked (or was it ordered?) her to act in accordance with his desires and she attempted to defer a response, asking for time to consider.
Cyrus had narrowed his eyes and without looking away from his daughter, ordered the rest of the family to leave the table. Daphne's mother, Evelyn, had led Daphne's younger siblings Astoria and Philip out of the room and then attempted to reenter. However, Cyrus had already closed and locked the doors against her.
Recognizing that subterfuge had failed, Daphne decided that she'd really earn her punishment and the last thing she remembered before succumbing to the pain of the Torqueo Curse, was calling her father a coward for co-opting his sixteen year old daughter into declaring his political alliances.
Her mother had been pounding on the door the entire time her husband had been berating her daughter, but when Daphne had started to shriek, Evelyn drew her wand and for the first time in her life cast the Blasting curse. The old oak doors of the dining room hadn't survived the novelty experience.
A white faced Cyrus Greengrass stared at his wife, glanced at the trembling girl on the floor and stalked out of the room.
After a quick Ennervate and a pain relief potion provided by the family house elf, Daphne had hugged her mother and gone for a walk on the grounds to collect her thoughts.
She didn't hate her father any more now than she did before dinner. This wasn't the first, nor did she assume was it the last time he would use the Torqueo Curse on her. She really didn't want any part of his plan and was trying to find a way out. Her reasons were actually quite simple.
First of all, Malfoy was an incompetent, arrogant prick with poor hygiene. Fortunately, that bitchy cow Parkinson was saddled with him so that wasn't an issue. Any kind of association with the inbred moron was doomed to an ignominious end.
Second, she didn't support the Dark Lord. Daphne was a pureblood through and through. She thoroughly enjoyed the perks and advantages that being a pureblood Witch brought, but the whole 'mudbloods are animals' issue that the Dark Lord espoused sickened her as the ravings of a bigoted lunatic.
Her best friend was Tracey Davis and Tracey's mother was a muggleborn. Belinda Davis was a wonderful woman who learned the rules, written and unwritten, of Wizarding society and when she married Stephen, the pureblood scion of the Davis house, she was able to move in said society and know her role. Her marriage had offset her blood status, but what had most impressed Wizarding high society was that Belinda Davis played by the rules.
If Belinda Davis was to be labeled an animal by the philosophy of the Dark Lord and his followers, then Daphne Greengrass wanted nothing to do with them. They had no class, no honor. They were merely thugs looking for an excuse to rape, pillage and kill.
No, she wanted no part of that world.
Daphne wandered down the trails of their summer home in the Lake District. She loved it here for the silence and peace that she seemed to absorb from the surroundings. Sitting on a boulder next to a swiftly running stream, she pondered the owner of the property on the other side of the small body of water.
She knew his family owned the property on the other side of the steam and assumed that the Potters had a summer home there as well. She never understood his actions at school. His bravery was unquestioned and if half the rumours about his adventures were true, he truly was a Gryffindor Lion.
But his clothes were a mess, what he was thinking by wearing those…rags. Even his robes were merely adequate. "He's Head of one of the Fifteen, for all that's holy" she muttered. He always was trying to blend in and not be noticed. I understand not wanting to be known as the boy-who-lived. After all, he's the boy-who-lived because his parents did not.
But he's Lord Potter for crying out loud!
His eyes. Now that was something else altogether. The look that settled on her face made it obvious that her thoughts were less than proper and more lascivious than she may have even realized herself.
She was a pretty young woman but not in a conventional manner. Her blue eyes were so bright as to be disturbing to some. Daphne's long jet black hair was wavy and her slightly prominent nose complemented her strong jaw. She was curvy in all the right places but no one would ever call her busty. Her figure was that of slim athletic grace. Slightly taller than the average girl, she projected feminine strength to all and to the two boys she'd dated, they'd melted under the radiance of her smile.
Her musings were interrupted by the loud CRACK of apparition on the other side of the stream, partway up the hill. This was followed by a loud crashing as something came (falling?) down the hill. A loud yelp was followed by an ear piercing scream as a body bounced off a log directly opposite Daphne on the Potter side of the stream.
Without thinking about any wards that could be active, Daphne gathered herself and leapt across the stream.
An hour and a half later, Harry Potter lay on a stripped bed while two women continued to patch him up like an old shirt.
Once Daphne had recognized the bleeding and broken body as the boy-who-lived, she had apparated back to the house and found her mother. Whispering what she had found, the elder female Greengrasses had gathered healing supplies and together, they apparated back to Harry.
Evelyn had been studying to be a healer when she and Cyrus had married and she had forsaken that career for that of a stay at home mother and matron of Clan Greengrass when Cyrus' father eventually passed on. As a pureblood daughter of the house of Davies, she had been trained all her life about her duty and her healer training had been the only real rebellion she had mustered against said duty.
Upon seeing the moaning and semi-conscious Potter heir, her first move had been to stun him. After laying him out flat, she had Daphne get to work on the non life threatening injuries: both legs were broken, an arm and he had glass in his eyes.
Evelyn was pulling on her deeply buried knowledge and the obvious internal injuries scared her. Her diagnostic spell had shown a ruptured spleen, perforated lung, perforated stomach and a bruised liver on top of four broken ribs. Fortunately his skull was not damaged, nor the brain inside.
Once she had Daphne busy with Summoning the splinters of glass out of the boy's eyes, Evelyn began working on the internal injuries. Twice Harry had convulsed and twice the women could only wait until he was done.
Evelyn had called for Matty, their house elf for more potions and also if she knew where the Potter house was located. Matty returned with the potions, as well as, direction to the house.
Now that Harry was seemingly out of danger, Evelyn levitated the wounded young man up the path as Daphne followed Matty.
They found a typical Victorian style summer house with expansive porches and probably ten bedrooms to accommodate the many expected visitors.
As they mounted the front porch, Harry began to shake and convulse. Evelyn backed up, thinking there might have been a ward on the house itself, but Harry continued to convulse. She now ran in the house and up the stairs. Shouting for Daphne and Matty to strip a bed, she followed them into the master suite and laid Harry on the bare mattress.
"It's like he's going through withdrawal from an addictive potion" the onetime apprentice healer murmured out loud.
"Not Potter" her daughter answered as she opened an armoire. Finding what she was looking for, she returned to her mother and handed her a folded leather belt. "He might do a whole host of stupid things, but drugs are not on that list." After a moment she added, "I think."
Evelyn nodded and put the belt between the remains of the young man's teeth so he didn't further injure his mouth in his convulsions.
Harry's convulsions eased and Evelyn stood, wiping her brow with a blood stained hand. After a few moments she said, "I need to get George, he's a real healer. I'll overlook something or screw something up and kill this young man. Will you be alright if I leave you here with him for a bit?"
"I'll be fine." She nodded and then followed up with "Mother, may I use magic in your absence?"
"Yes, daughter, use whatever spells you deem needful in my absence" Evelyn said, finishing the old permission that not many knew existed. Permission granted by a parent (magical of course) constituted a temporary waiver to the underage restriction of the use of magic.
An hour later, Evelyn returned with George Stebbins, an old childhood friend of hers and they found Daphne had cleaned up the injured young man quite thoroughly. All the blood had been wiped clean and she had even used some cleaning charms on his hair.
George nodded at the young woman and moved to the bedside and began to work. After ten minutes, he stood and said, "Good work Evelyn, Daphne, you saved his life. I had to tweak a few of the healing spells you put into place, but on the whole, he's going to be alright. I'll fetch a bottle of Skele-gro for the fractures and I need to check on one thing.
"The convulsions spurred me to check for an addiction of some kind and found none. I checked for other diseases like epilepsy and the like and found none. There was a diagnostic result that reminded me of something I read in a medical journal, oh…ten years ago or so. I'll pop to my office, find the journal, grab the Skele-gro and be back in a half hour or so."
He packed up his kit, setting aside a few shrunken boxes of pain relief potions and addressed his old friend, "Are you sure you don't want him at St. Mungo's?"
Evelyn nodded. She and Daphne had discussed this as they treated him by the stream bed. They figured that Death Eaters had done this and he'd be an easy target at the hospital.
George nodded and was off. Evelyn turned to her daughter and said, "If you'd like, I'll stay with Harry and you can get some rest."
Daphne shook her head, "No, you go home. Father will expect me to avoid him for the next few days, but you need to be home." Looking at the floor she almost whispered, "To protect Astoria and Philip."
"Just have Matty bring me some clean clothes and food for meals."
Evelyn sniffled a bit at the violence that her husband had performed on her eldest daughter. She leaned forward, bussed Daphne's forehead and murmured, "I love you blue eyes" before apparating away.
George had returned with the Skele-gro and no news. "I couldn't find the article I remember. He seems to be doing well, but I really want to know now about those convulsions. That's obviously not normal. I'll keep digging and let your mother know." He had given her the directions on how to administer potions to an unconscious patient and a few other things then left with a pat on the young woman's shoulder and a word of advice, "Get some rest yourself, Daphne. You're holding on by a thread. I'll be by tomorrow morning."
A half hour later, she stared at the sleeping Harry with trepidation. She'd tried sleeping in the wingback chair in the corner of the room to no avail. She didn't want to go to another bedroom where she might not hear him if he needed help. That left one place.
With a sigh of combined resignation and embarrassment, Daphne climbed onto the king sized bed opposite Harry. "Please gods, let me wake up before him."
01 July 1996
Of course, she didn't.
The weak whisper barely broke through her dream state and for a long moment she had absolutely no idea where she was, who was talking to her and who she was. So it was a fairly groggy Daphne Greengrass that rolled away from a now awake Harry Potter and mumbled, "Five more minutes."
Harry smiled, things couldn't be that bad.
"Daphne, wake up, I need to use the loo and don't know where it is."
"Dammit Harry, I'm sleepin'"
Now he gave a weak chuckle that ended with a rasping cough that woke his bed-mate up entirely.
"Harry!" she was awake now. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes she said, "Explanations later; how do you feel?"
"Like my Uncle damn near beat me to death last night."
She stared open mouthed at him. "Your Uncle…?" she half whispered.
"Yeah. Where's the loo?"
Daphne's expression went from stunned to annoyed. "You broke both your legs and a whole host of other things, you aren't going anywhere." She then performed the charm her 'Uncle' George had showed her and the pressure in Harry's bladder disappeared.
He sighed in relief and said, "How did I get here and where is here?"
Daphne explained the events of the previous evening starting with his surprise appearance across the stream from him. This in turn prompted questions about the house they were in. "All I know is that this is a Potter home" and she gestured to the wall above the mantle.
There on the wall was a gilded bas-relief of the Potter family crest; a rampant lion holding a sword, point down in its right paw. Above the lion was POTTER and below was written FORTUNE FAVORS THE BOLD.
With a smile, Harry fell asleep.
Daphne lay there for a bit, watching him sleep. The swelling on his face was mostly gone due to the potions from the previous evening. He was still black and blue, but was fading to yellow and green. The Skele-gro had done its work and Harry's teeth had regrown. She assumed his legs and arm had healed the same.
She hadn't thought to ask, but since he didn't mention it, his eyes were probably Ok too.
A few moments later the young house elf popped in and then out to fetch some breakfast and clean clothes for Daphne. Walking into the massive bathroom to shower and change, Daphne appreciated the obvious wealth on display. Her parents didn't share a room and hadn't as far back as she could remember. This bathroom was far nicer than her father's though. Even back at the manor house, his loo wasn't this nice.
She ate her breakfast and then gently sat next to him on the bed and said, "Harry, wake up. It's time for breakfast."
She saw him smile and he said, "Five more minutes."
She laughed and said, "Ok you big faker, you can do this all yourself."
She eventually helped him into an upright position and got him his breakfast. He moved gingerly and was becoming more and more withdrawn as the meal went on. She watched him attentively as his forkfuls of eggs got smaller and he left his bacon alone. Ignoring the kippers altogether, eventually he only sipped at his tea and nibbled his toast. At last, she realized what was going on; he was embarrassed that she knew his uncle had beaten him so badly.
Daphne walked around the bed and sat down on 'her side'. After getting settled, she noticed that he was watching her and ignoring the rest of his food. Good.
"Last night my Father placed me under the Torqueo Curse."
She paused when she heard him gasp and then looked him in the eye. "He does it fairly regularly for various reasons; to make me do what he wants, to punish me or just for fun sometimes. The only reason I've not run mad is my Mother. She does everything she can to protect me and my brother and sister."
She took a deep breath and took the plunge, "It isn't your fault your Uncle is a beast Harry, just as it isn't my fault my Father is a beast."
For a moment they just stared at each other, then a solitary tear leaked out of Harry's left eye and wandered down his cheek. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing in comfort, solidarity and compassion.
Her mother had always been there for her. Every time she was abused, her mother came. After the first time, she had explained to the eight year old Daphne about Marriage Contracts and why she couldn't leave her husband until he was convicted of breaking the law.
Unfortunately, child abuse was not illegal in the Wizarding world.
Evelyn Greengrass did everything she could to counteract the destruction and the out and out evil that her husband perpetrated on her children. Daphne was turning out to be a fine woman, so Evelyn's work was successful so far.
After breakfast they chatted for a bit. Daphne and Tracey Davis had always been what he called, 'the Oddball Slytherins' and he told her so.
"I don't know if I'm insulted or amused."
A softly chuckling Harry said, "Let me explain before you finish me off" to which she smiled.
Harry's stomach flip-flopped at her smile and then said, "You and Tracey never toady up to Malfoy, you aren't part of the Sneering Snivellus crowd. You seem to keep your heads down, get your work done and not to piss anyone off. Therefore, from my perspective, you two are oddballs."
At this, she laughed outright.
"Even Ron can't find anything wrong with you" to which her smile turned into a scowl. "Though I doubt he'd want to have lunch with the two of you anytime soon." He got a Marauder smile and said, "His loss, my gain."
"Why Mr. Potter, are you flirting with me?" asked a heavily blushing Daphne.
"Too bad" she said huskily and the boy-who-lived had the tables turned on him in a flash and his blush bulb was burning bright to his nurse's delight.
Healer Stebbins stopped by and checked on Harry's progress, pleased at his rapid healing from the trauma. "I've not found that other issue" he told the teens after explaining everything to Harry. "But I'll keep looking. Take your potions, and take it easy. You can get up and move around a bit tomorrow."
Addressing Daphne, he said, "You keep him from overexerting himself."
She snorted and darted her eyes at a smiling Harry.
He napped until lunch and Matty brought Daphne's books so she could work ahead in her courses. When Harry woke at noon, he saw the raven haired girl with her hair in a ponytail, a quill twirling in her hand while she mumbled aloud an incantation she was reading from a book.
"What are you working on?"
Surprised, she looked up quickly. "Transfiguration for next year."
"Pretty impressive. I thought Hermione was the only person who worked ahead like that."
Daphne scoffed, "No, Granger is the only person who makes it very clear that she works ahead like that. The bulk of Ravenclaw does, Tracey and I do and I know for a fact that Sue Bones is finished pre-reading the entire sixth year curriculum for Charms, Transfiguration, Defense and Arithmancy. We just don't show off like Granger does."
Harry frowned, "That's a bit rough, isn't it?"
"Harry, name one other student who is such an incredible suck up to the teachers. Do you know she isn't even number one in the school? Padma Patil is, followed by Tracey. Granger is fourth."
"Really? Who's third?"
"Me" Daphne muttered.
She looked at her budding new friend and said, "Look, I know Granger is one of your best friends, and I know you've been through a lot together. It's just that the 'know-it-all' attitude really bothers me sometimes. I know Malfoy calls her that, but she really is, and it's not an endearing trait."
Harry lay there and tried to be objective and look at his bushy haired friend in a new way. After a few minutes he looked at Daphne and saw that she was noticeably worried about his reaction. He patted 'her side' of the bed and she joined him with a small sigh of relief.
"I think you're right. Hermione is a great person who has flaws; this is one of her flaws. Doesn't mean she's a bad person, just that she's not perfect."
With a surprised look Daphne said, "I'm impressed. Are you sure you're not a girl? Guys don't have that kind of maturity."
They laughed and Matty popped in with lunch.
After lunch, he borrowed her copy of the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 and began to read ahead as well. Daphne went outside and found a stick that he could use as a dummy to practice wand movements until he got a new wand.
Evelyn came by early in the afternoon to see how Harry fared and was buried under the profuse thanks of the Potter heir. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm glad I helped you and didn't hurt you. My training was quite a while ago and I've not kept up. How are you two getting on? Homework I see."
Both teens nodded, holding up their respective books.
"Harry, I'm going to send Matty over later today to take your measurements to have her whip up some clothes for you until we can go shopping for replacements."
Harry nodded and then looked at his lap. "I'll need a new wand as well."
Both the Greengrasses looked horrified. Daphne crawled up next to him on the bed to her mother's raised eyebrows and held Harry's hand.
Harry nodded. "Everything. He burnt everything. I had an album of pictures of my parents, my dad's invisibility cloak and some letters from my godfather." His voice trailed off and the solitary tear returned, "They're all gone."
Daphne gently hugged Harry to her breast while he cried. Harry then did something he'd never done before and hugged her back. It felt good to cry and let the dam burst. He wailed like a child; for his parents, for his godfather, for himself.
A bit later, neither knew how long, his sobs dried up and they lay there on the bed for a bit, taking comfort in each others arms. Evelyn had slipped out long before. Daphne had never experienced someone let their guard down that completely. It was almost as draining for her as it was for him.
Eventually he stirred, squeezed her gently and murmured, "Thanks, again."
The rest of the afternoon and early evening was quiet. The two teens had established an extraordinary level of trust and intimacy between them that at times drew them to holding hands as they studied on the bed, and other times made Daphne flee the room to the loo to escape the intensity of it all.
They talked about their lives. Harry didn't need to say much about the Dursleys and didn't want to either. Daphne understood. He told her about the Philosophers Stone, the Basilisk and the Chamber (leaving Ginny's name out, of course) and about Sirius. He almost broke down again when he mentioned his godfather's name.
She cuddled up to his side, steadying him and he told the story. The Secret Keeper change, Wormtail, the Muggles in the alley and so on. Daphne had heard the official line on Sirius Black, and it didn't surprise her much that the official story and the true story had been so divergent and she told her new friend that.
Harry gave a short mirthless laugh and then stared at the ceiling while stroking her hair. The Department of Mysteries came next. Haltingly, painfully, he ground out the story in the most exquisite detail he could master. He had to. He felt like he owed it to Sirius.
Every drop of blood shed, every injury sustained, every word said, spoken or screamed.
"…and he fell back through the veil. His expression was…stunned? Surprised? Something like that. I don't know if what Lestrange cast at him was even lethal, but he's gone now. Gone, and it's my fault."
Daphne gave him a gentle hug and then propped herself up on her elbows, close enough to his face so that he could see her properly. If her mother walked in she would have sworn the teens had been snogging.
"I believe that I'm the only person you've told the entire story to? No one else, save Longbottom was conscious for the whole thing right?" He nodded. "I'll say this once and only once, then. It's. Not. Your. Fault." She poked him in the chest with her forefinger with each word, emphasizing her scowl that much more.
"But…" and he was cut off with a gesture from her.
"Did you cast the curse at your godfather?"
"Did you make him come after you?"
Now she just glared at him until he nodded in resignation, but he couldn't take his eyes from hers. After a moment, his green sparkled with the brilliance of her blue. Her scowl softened until she just murmured, "Oh, my" and kissed him. Her hands were in his hair and his were moving across her back, pulling her on top of him. The kiss deepened and tongues dueled while both teens groaned with passion and desire.
Finally, he gave a yelp of pain as one of his newly healed ribs gave a sharp cry of protest. They broke their kiss and she blushed brightly, while he smiled.
"That was brilliant"
She snuggled into his good side and murmured, "I can't believe this happened so fast."
Harry smiled, "I'm glad it did"
They awoke when Matty popped in with their dinners. After a quick debate and a promise from Harry not to do anything 'stupid', he was allowed to head for the loo while Matty set up dinner. When he got back he said, "Whoa, sheets! I must have been a good boy."
Daphne rolled her eyes, "Hardly. Mum was worried that you could hurt yourself with the convulsions, so she wanted the bed bare. You haven't had one in 24 hours, so you get sheets back. Now lie down."
Harry hid a smile; he was enjoying this much more than the hospital wing. Matty popped away to serve dinner at the house and after eating most of his food (an excellent roast), Harry fidgeted for a moment before saying, "Daphne?"
She looked up at him from her plate and said, "Hmm?"
"Will you be my girlfriend?"
The Slytherin Oddball, swallowed the potato in her mouth, set her plate on the nightstand, put Harry's plate on his nightstand, then smiled radiantly and said, "Yes" before kissing him. Moments later, the young man in question would not have been able to remember his own name, much less talk coherently.
They cuddled through the evening, talking quietly and sharing kisses every so often. Sirius. Her father and his plans. School. Even Quidditch was discussed as Harry found out that Daphne was a rabid Puddlemere United fan.
Harry's injuries were mostly healed thanks to the prompt action of Evelyn and to a lesser extent, Daphne. He was sore and a little weak, but overall Ok.
Matty popped in with an evening bag for Daphne and a shaving kit for Harry. While Daphne was in the shower his thought wandered over various topics.
He saw that Evelyn had assembled the standard male shaving kit for him. The soap was even the kind he liked.
He felt good here in his home. He was never going back to the Dursley's, that was for sure, Dumbledore be damned.
Daphne was a godsend. He'd noticed her at school, how could he not? But the silver and green piping on her robes had intimidated him.
Maybe it is for the best that Uncle Vernon is such an animal.
He realized that he'd gone with his instincts on asking her to be his girl, but so far his instincts weren't wrong. Going to the Department of Mysteries hadn't been about his instincts, but about his fear. He could now see how Voldemort had played him like a fiddle.
Dance to the tune, Harry. Dance to the tune.
The prophecy. Daphne deserved to know. If they were going to be together, she would be a target and unlike Dumbledore, he was going to tell her up front so she could make an informed decision. Maybe tell her a basic summary of it?
She came out of the bathroom wearing silk pajamas that made Harry's mouth dry among other things. They were nothing special; a soft purple color with trousers and button up top but it was the way she wore it that made him stand up and pay attention.
She smiled and blushed. "Thank you kind sir. Are you up to showering?"
He tested his legs and found no pain so he slowly shuffled into the bathroom for a shower.
"If you need any help in the shower, call" she said from behind him.
With a smile, he turned to her and said, "Geez, Daph, we just started dating this afternoon" which prompted a pillow to become airborne in the general vicinity of his head.
That night was the most restful sleep Harry had in his memory. He woke up to a faceful of jet black hair scented with lavender and he could only smile.
1. I own nothing.
2. Torqueo: (Latin) to twist, curl, rack, torture, torment, distort. I imagine this curse to be a poor man's Cruciatus. Instead of thousands of white hot knives, imagine severe cramping of every muscle in your body at the same time. You know, that cramp in the arch of your foot that wakes you up in the middle of the night making you scream? Yeah that one. All over your body. Ouch. Not nice.
3. Looking at my own life, it seems like it's all about relationships. My relationship with my wife, my kids, my boss, my co-workers, and so on. Within the context of these relationships, my life happens. This is the prism that I'm looking through for this fic. Also, it's third person but focuses on Daphne instead of Harry. When she isn't with Harry, the only way we know about his activities or thoughts, is because he told her after the fact. There will be many times that HP is off doing stuff without Daphne and the reader won't know. I will, 'cause I'm the evil author. (Cue spooky music) bwahahahahaha
4. This is a shorter chapter, I wanted to set everything up but not get the ball really moving. Also, this story is a whirlwind romance type of story. My first two stories were Harry/Hermione and therefore Harry and his beloved had a much slower build up. Not so here. I have been utterly and completely stuck on To Stand Against the Darkness and All Because of a Hippogriff. I know where the story(s) is supposed to go (vaguely), but between some wicked medical problems that are only now being resolved and losing all excitement and interest for continuing, I've done what someone once advised me to do. Write about something else. On Fanficauthors dot net, Jeconais utterly and completely polluted me. First I read his Harry/Gabrielle stories (Hope, Once More and Happily Ever After) which got me writing one of my own. I've got ~60k words on it done. Then I read his Harry/Daphne stories (Perfect Situations and Matroyshka Vignettes). All five stories are fantastic. This is my stab at HP/DG. Also, remember, I'm going with the 'whirlwind romance' here. Intentionally, so I don't want to see "That's not realistic" in reviews. It's what I'm intentionally doing to change Potterverse in this direction. Thanks to any and all who have been patient on my other stories. I'll get back to them (my wife says to me weekly "So what's going on in Stand?"), I promise. Hopefully Partners will help be get my groove on with the others. - muggledad