Stay
Tracey sat at her lone spot on the Slytherin table on a Monday morning, pushing her breakfast around her plate.
She'd been entirely alone at Hogwarts for more than a month now. It was all of her own doing, too. Sure, it wasn't like she could've said no to what she'd been asked to do at the time, but now Tracey wished she had.
After only a couple of weeks, she had caved and confessed to Harry. Fortunately for her, he seemed to believe her. Daphne, on the other hand, was another issue.
The girl was seen in the corridors as scarcely as Potter these days. When Tracey did see her, though, the glares she received were like nothing she'd had from Daphne before. It was a vicious, almost tangible hatred that she forced into her eyes, projecting it all straight at her.
If looks could kill, then she'd be dead many times over.
When Daphne did show up for mealtimes, Tracey couldn't bring herself to look at her. She sat alone, just like herself. The exception was that Daphne looked unbothered by her solitude.
Today, however, Potter was beside her. It was a bizarre sight because she didn't think she'd ever seen them together outside the Slytherin common room.
He caught her eye, and she rapidly averted her gaze, eyes fixed on the table.
Tracey only looked up when a post owl landed in front of her. She dug a knut out and handed it over, picking up the paper lazily.
Gasps came from around her as she read the headline of the Daily Prophet.
POTTER BETROTHED AND EMANCIPATED
Harry Potter, 15, has been betrothed to Daphne Greengrass, 15, after coming to an agreement with Lord Soren Greengrass sometime last week. The details of the betrothal contract are not public, asides from the bride price — a whopping 8,000 galleons.
Even more surprisingly, Potter was granted early emancipation to both sign the betrothal contract himself and organize the upcoming nuptials by the Minister. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, had the following to say;
"The Greengrasses are an old, respectable family. As Potter regrettably does not have any more living wizarding relatives, I made the executive decision to emancipate the boy based on his place in our society and his circumstances. Britain's hero should be allowed a fair chance for a family after the sacrifice his parents made over a decade ago."
There is no precedent for such a matter, and therefore this is the first decision of its kind.
Whilst some individuals have expressed critique over the Minister's 'rash' actions, we at the Prophet wish Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass a joyful marriage and prosperous future.
Both Harry Potter and Lord Soren Greengrass have not publicly commented at this time.
It was surprisingly short for front-page news, but Tracey supposed they didn't have much to work with. Immediately apparent was the omission of Harry's wealth or inheritance from the article — it seemed that the Black Estate remained a secret for now. Also omitted was Daphne's removal as the primary heiress a few years back.
The bride price that Potter had paid was also staggering, and she could only guess that it wasn't all for Daphne. Maybe he'd bribed someone.
His emancipation, however, was big news. She didn't think that there had ever been a case like his. That allowed the Minister to make his move without overwhelming criticism. Being Britain's hero certainly helped.
Clever.
Tracey wondered what Harry was playing at. Daphne too, and the Minister for that matter. It was uncomfortable to now be more of an outsider, but even she could read through the lines.
Squashing down the jealousy that threatened to rear up seeing Harry wrap an arm around Daphne, she instead looked over to Malfoy.
The boy was as white as a sheet, and she could see the tension in his neck. Meanwhile, Nott seemed to be glaring daggers at Potter. Zabini was pushing his food around his table as she had been, looking like he was trying to avoid drawing attention to himself, whilst Crabbe and Goyle looked on blankly like spectators. Parkinson appeared to have swallowed a lemon.
Making eye contact with Malfoy, she quickly averted her eyes from his hateful stare.
Curiously enough, another owl landed in front of her. This one, however, was a dark grey, and she knew exactly who it belonged to.
Tracey grabbed the letter and stuffed it into her robes, her appetite wholly gone. She rose, scanning the table one last time. Daphne and Harry had already left.
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she retreated to her room to read the letter.
The castle no longer felt like a second home. This year, it was an oppressive prison instead. She momentarily wondered if there was still hope for her. Instead of being awed by its grandiosity, as she had been in her first year, it felt like she was being mocked somehow
Her daydreams occupied her until she found herself sprawled out on top of her bed, clenching the parchment tightly.
With a heavy sigh, she unfurled it and watched as the words began to write themselves across the page.
They take these measures with my letters, but not with their son's, Tracey thought, recalling Nott's letter.
Her hands were shaking so much that the letter was hard for her to read, and she had to grip it so hard that she nearly tore it in half. It was not addressed to anyone, but she knew by now that it was intended solely for her.
She started to read through it, her limbs frozen.
No… she thought as she finished. Please no.
The letter disintegrated before Tracey managed to regain control over her body, and she swiped angrily through the fine powder as floated down to coat her bedspread.
Her scream of frustration echoed around the room, slowly tapering off into wracking sobs.
What do I do? Where do I go? she thought frantically, gasping to draw air back into her lungs. Do I tell Harry?
Tracey absently realised that she was now referring to him by his first name, but that mattered little. Whatever she called him, he would probably kill her himself if he knew what she'd been tasked with. Her future was bleak.
After months of inadequate sleep, she was once again dozing off before the tear tracks on her cheeks had fully dried.
Monday classes were suddenly irrelevant to her.
Harry's glare froze the first years to their seats as he hurried past with Daphne beside him. He'd expected the betrothal and his emancipation to be announced, but he hadn't anticipated the attention that he would get from the rest of the school. It was difficult to enjoy his morning when he constantly felt hundreds of pairs of eyes on him.
Daphne seemed to have faired no better, looking distinctly uncomfortable. He pulled her closer, to his side. She burrowed in.
Looking down at her, he couldn't help but feel his anger fade as they neared the doors of the Great Hall.
She deserves better, Harry thought sadly.
Seeing her blonde hair bounce slightly with every step, Daphne looked as innocent as ever. Perhaps others thought her unremarkable, dressed in her Hogwarts uniform with her pressed white shirt peeking out through the top of her robes, but he saw the girl that had professed her love back to him with no hesitation.
Harry saw it in all of her actions — how her eyes softened when she looked at him, or the warm tone of voice she used with him when they were sitting in the Room of Requirement, going over their Defence Against the Dark Arts notes.
He smirked to himself.
I guess we finally got around to sharing those notes, he thought as he took another glance down at her.
She'd even promised him a family, and that thought filled him with purpose whenever he remembered her words. Daphne would make a wonderful mother. He was sure of it. Her tenderness and care were unparalleled.
Nothing would stand in his way. Not even Voldemort himself, and not anyone else in the godforsaken country he currently resided in.
Maybe that was why they both got such enjoyment out of travelling away. As brief as the trips were, they always felt like a fresh start, as if hinting at the life they could one day live. There would be no one to gawk at them, no unsavoury relatives, and no impending prophecy.
"Do you feel like going to class today?" Harry whispered to her as they walked.
"No," was her quiet response.
He squeezed Daphne softly, trying to reassure her.
"Good, because that means I'm taking us on an important trip today. I'm a legal adult now, in case you forgot."
She perked up straight away. Her grin was absurdly bright.
"Oh? Where?" she asked.
"You know how this goes by now," he replied, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, it's a surprise," Daphne grumbled, though Harry could tell it was an act.
Eventually, both of them arrived at the now-familiar dead-end corridor that played host to Professor Snape's office.
Harry dignified the professor with a knock this time, which was followed by a muted acknowledgement from within.
Trust Snape to be skulking around in his office rather than being at breakfast, he thought.
Pushing the door open as he had exactly a week ago, he let Daphne in first this time. Last time he'd been far more cautious — her father had been waiting inside.
"Potter, Greengrass."
Even if his tone was neutral, Harry could see the beginnings of a sneer on his face already. It seemed that the professor didn't enjoy early morning intrusions.
"Professor Snape," he greeted cordially. "I'll be taking the day off today with Daphne. There is some business for us to tend to."
The professor hadn't been too horrid to him, after all. His first year had been bad, but the man had seemingly cooled off afterwards.
"Very well," Snape replied after a moment of thought. "I suppose I cannot prevent you from making such decisions now, but see that you do not abuse it. You must maintain your grades. The both of you."
"We will, professor," Daphne said from beside him. "Thank you."
The man nodded at them, and Harry took that as a good enough dismissal.
"Business, hmm?" she prodded as they returned to the common room.
"Of a sort," he replied, evading the question. "Drop your robes off upstairs and meet me back here, please. I suggest wearing a sweater at minimum."
Robes would be out of place in the muggle world, of course.
Daphne wrinkled her nose at his response, her excitement betrayed by how she darted up the stairs to the girls' dorms.
Minutes later, they strolled out of the entrance hall together, followed by the curious gazes of their peers.
Nearing the forest, Harry withdrew the portkey. This time, he'd used a small marble.
He offered it to her, and she intertwined their fingers around it just like she had for their visit to Santorini.
"Should I ask how you got this?" Daphne asked.
Harry grinned at her.
"Nope."
Daphne felt her feet touch solid ground and opened her eyes carefully. She barely stumbled, her body seemingly growing more tolerant of Portkeys.
They were standing in a shady patch underneath a cluster of small trees, right above a wide footpath. An old, cracked retaining wall held the elevated lawn in place, the grass trying to slip through any crack it could find as it pushed up against the blemished stone.
Breathing in, she thought she could faintly smell the ocean. There was also something vaguely… floral.
"Rome, Italy," Harry answered, anticipating her question as he surveyed the park they were in. "The Villa Borghese park."
It wasn't as green as she would've expected, but it was the latter half of November, after all.
Harry led her through the park, apparently content to let her observe. Daphne didn't know where he would be taking her next but didn't care either. She was sure that he wouldn't disappoint.
They walked across a small pond, past various food stalls and across grassy lawns. Before long, they arrived at the street, re-entering the city. The streets were not as empty as she'd thought they would be.
The architecture amazed her. Some buildings had carefully carved masonry, whilst others were plainer, with only hints of the traditional architectural style visible. Most of the streets they went down had some form of greenery. There was a certain type of quaint, distinctly Mediterranean-looking tree that was in particular quite common. They reminded her of the olive trees on the Greengrass estate.
When she was younger, they were somewhat of a sanctuary from all of the pre-Hogwarts tutoring her parents had given her. Looking back, Daphne was grateful that her mother had been so patient with her. The thought of her father teaching her how to heal was almost laughable. Horrifying, too.
Gradually, the streets widened, and the buildings became taller.
She had a thought.
"Harry," Daphne started curiously, catching his eye as she looked at him, "why are all of the street signs lowercase? There are no capital letters."
"It's reminiscent of traditional Italian typography, I think," he answered, "as well as being easier to read. A mixture of modern and old, if you will. Sirius told me."
"Did you come here with him often?" she asked.
He paused, and Daphne hoped that she hadn't made him uncomfortable.
"It was the last place he took me," Harry replied, gazing around with glassy eyes. "I'm grateful for him."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
Daphne supposed that she should be glad that he'd had Sirius in his life, as short as it might've been. The man seemed to have been very good to Harry.
It also amazed her that he knew such an obscure fact.
Harry would make a good teacher, she mused, thinking back to their private Defence Against the Dark Arts sessions.
They'd been making time for at least one a week since Daphne had first asked. She was getting far more out of them than classes with Umbridge. In fact, she usually spent those aforementioned classes revising things that Harry had taught her. It helped that she'd eventually managed to secure a place beside Harry at the back of the room. They could quietly revise whilst staying away from Umbridge's hateful glares and classroom rounds.
Harry stopped her by hooking an arm around her waist before she walked straight into an intersection. She looked at him, flushing with embarrassment at being so caught up in her thoughts.
To her surprise, he didn't scold her. He just grinned.
"First you were starving yourself, now you're trying to walk into traffic?" Harry asked, his eyes crinkling. "What next, Daphne?"
"Ummm… I'll drown?" she asked, her expression now matching his.
"First starving, then murderous impulses, now drowning. Great," he muttered with mock frustration, looking back into the street.
Daphne patted the hand resting on her hip reassuringly. Now that she was freed from her errant thoughts, she continued to soak up her surroundings.
It was a… four, five, six-way intersection, she determined, and even more bizarrely, it wasn't circular. It seemed to have no cohesion at all. Three edges of it had large trees embedded into the pavement, and a building on one side had a tree growing through its single-storey entrance, throwing shade across the circular stone balconies above. Another just ahead of her was several stories taller, appearing as if stone columns had been embedded into the walls. Its white-washed balconies were not large enough for a person to stand on but instead were full of potted plants.
She looked around in awe, craning her neck every which way to see as much as she could. The late morning sun cascaded through the sparse leaves of tall trees rising out of the footpaths, peppering the pale walls of the buildings beside her with its warm rays.
Daphne thought she probably looked like an idiot, but she was entranced. To her, the architecture radiated an almost regal aura, a harmonious blend of traditional and modern elements hinting at an age gone by. Each curve and every corner seemed to have a story of its own to tell. It made her yearn to learn more about muggle history.
The street shifted from tarmac to cobbles, still lined on both sides by hedges and trees.
"We're here for our wedding bands," he whispered in her ear.
His words caused her to jump slightly, and she was about to respond when she saw where Harry had taken her.
It looked like a jeweller, with large windows and display cabinets open to the street. There was something written in cursive Italian above the door. She fondly remembered the Italian restaurant he'd taken her to a while back, as well as the events that had transpired afterwards. Her heart warmed as she realised the likely reason for their visit.
Holding his hand up the steps, Harry held the door open, letting her in first.
"If you would prefer to go a wizarding jeweller, then we can of course," he reminded her. "I just thought that the wizarding stuff wasn't our style."
"No, it's alright," Daphne replied softly. "I'd like to have a look at this one first."
He was right. She didn't feel like she wanted to follow tradition or the wizarding world after the lives they'd both lived in it. Everything muggle reminded her of Harry instead, and that was a far warmer association in her mind.
She glanced around nervously once inside, not having a clue where to begin. He took her hand in his again.
"Do you want to look together?" he suggested gently.
Daphne nodded in response. That sounded far better to her.
They browsed the displays for a moment, after which Harry led them over to speak to the man behind the counter. Although his eyebrows were raised at presumably seeing two so young in his store, he did speak passable English.
Daphne gazed at the selection of wedding bands curiously. They were mainly silver and gold, many of them being far too ostentatious for her liking. She wasn't some giggling, high-maintenance witch that needed the equivalent of a house deposit on her finger.
Okay, maybe she did giggle occasionally, but not often.
The night that Harry had let her pet him in cat form rose to mind. It was weird to think about — that little cat had been a person, but it'd also been Harry. Sure, it was… bizarre, but she was warmed by his actions, even now. Daphne wouldn't be opposed to carrying him around in her top pocket all the time. She could just imagine glancing down at her robe pocket and seeing his small, furry head peaking out, bobbing along to her strides.
She let out a small giggle at the thought, and Harry looked at her strangely.
A glint in her peripheral vision caught her eye, and Daphne immediately focused on the back corner of the furthest display cabinet from the door. She felt Harry following her as she moved.
Nestled into the same wide box were two rings. They were leaning together slightly, and she felt an immediate connection to them, even if they were quite simple compared to the rest. The slightly larger one was light grey, whilst the smaller one was thinner. The band gave off a brilliant silver sheen, and it had a circular white stone perched on the very top.
"Do you want to look at those?" Harry asked lowly from beside her.
"Only if you like them too," she reminded.
Daphne watched as he gestured towards the box, the clerk unlocking the cabinet that housed them from behind the counter.
"18-carat white gold band with high-clarity diamonds, housing a Southern Sea pearl from Australia. It is accompanied by a 950 platinum band with grain-set diamonds of the same clarity," he listed off in a rich Italian accent, setting the box before them. "Both were crafted in the town of Valenza, northwest of here."
She was even more entranced when she noticed the diamonds embedded in each ring. They were… beautiful, for lack of a better word. Initially, Daphne hadn't noticed them, but it must've been what had caught her eye initially.
There's a metaphor in there somewhere, she thought.
A memory of her watching Harry in cat form leaping across Hogwarts' many staircases rose to mind. That'd been back in their fourth year. It felt like an age ago.
"I love them," Daphne whispered to Harry, looking over at him for his reaction.
He smiled.
"I can't disagree," Harry responded quietly. "Would you be happy with them?"
She nodded.
"Would you?" Daphne asked. "I don't want you to regret it."
"Never," he stated vehemently. "I just want you to be happy too."
Harry looked up at the clerk, who was gazing at them with scepticism written all over his face.
"We'll take them," he stated.
The man must've not expected them to be serious, as he goggled at Harry for a moment before snapping into action.
"You must make sure they fit first," he reminded Harry. "Please try them on."
As he was rummaging around under the counter, Daphne slowly slid the ring onto her finger. It looked even more beautiful up close. She thought it could've been a little tighter — her small fingers left it sliding around too much.
Before she could say something, Harry's hand came up and gently took hold of her finger, the other holding her arm by the wrist, and Daphne saw a faint flash of light as the ring became a perfect fit.
"Wandlessly?" she asked in a surprised whisper.
Harry held up his own now-perfect ring, sitting snugly on his ring finger. He had a smug expression on his face.
The clerk stood back up as they placed both rings back in the box, a slip of paper on the desk.
After paying, Harry led her out of the door, slipping the box into his left trouser pocket.
The clerk had looked at them as if they were crazy, or crazier, she supposed when Harry mentioned the rings not needing any adjustments, but he only shook his head and let them leave. His dazed look had been priceless. To be fair, however, she had seen many more zeroes than she'd thought on the receipt that Harry had been given after swiping his silver card.
Daphne was more than happy to waste the rest of the day away with him in Rome. The architecture and general style of the city were so incredibly fascinating to her, and having Harry there to share it with was more than enough to leave her brimming with joy.
Each street was like a new adventure, leading them on and on through narrow sidestreets and past historical landmarks.
By the time the sun was beginning to set, she found herself oddly disappointed. Never before had she spent an entire day just wandering, eating whatever she wanted, completely free.
"You've probably consumed at least a bakery's worth of dough in pizza alone, Daphne," Harry commented as they strolled through the darkening streets. "Rome will have a tomato shortage soon."
"It's not my fault they make it so well," she defended. "Why don't they have pizza at Hogwarts?"
"Beats me," he shrugged, "but at least then you would eat. Maybe I should get some to take with us."
Daphne glared at him, but it was without any venom. Harry seemed to notice as much because he snorted at seeing her expression.
"Come on," he said, tugging her into a dark corner of the alley they were in. "I have somewhere I want to show you."
She followed him, leaning into his embrace and closing her eyes as he put his arms around her.
"Hold on," Harry muttered.
After the feeling of rapid compression had passed, she immediately smelled a now-familiar scent, beyond Harry. A cool, fresh breeze filled her nose with salty air.
Daphne opened her eyes and found that they were right beside the ocean. It lapped lazily at the rocky shore mere metres from them. She stepped away from Harry, staring off towards the pink horizon. It reminded her oddly of their trip to Santorini. The water even seemed to be a similar colour, though was hard to see in the low light.
The sunset itself was obscured by two great mounds further down the coast, but it did nothing to detract from the view. Orange shafts of sunlight created a hazy glow around them, mixing in with the pink streaks in the sky. Sparse, delicately-crafted clouds hung in the sky, absorbing the fading sun's rays.
She turned back to Harry, excited to ask him where they were, but froze in utter disbelief.
He was on one knee, with an open box in his hand, looking up at her in a way she'd never seen before. It was one of complete sincerity, though also carrying more than just a trace of vulnerability.
"Daphne, I know our circumstances have brought us to this far quicker than either of us would find ideal, but I think we should do this as much on our own terms as possible," he started. "I've spent enough time with you to know that you're not like anyone else I've had in my life, and I'm not sure what more I could ever ask for. I know that you can still break the contract for now, yet I couldn't live with myself if I didn't do this properly. Will you-"
He was interrupted as she sank to her knees and hugged him to her tight enough to crack his ribs. Tears of joy seemed to leap straight out of her eyes, and Daphne did nothing to stem the flow as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"Yes," she whispered, straight into his ear. "Yes, Harry."
Daphne didn't know when she pulled back, but when she did she felt Harry slip something onto her ring finger.
It occurred to her that she'd not yet seen the ring. Looking down, she saw that it was not so different to the wedding band that she'd chosen mere hours ago. The glaring difference was the circular green gem. It caught the fading light and momentarily took her breath away.
"Emerald," Harry said, his face inches from hers. "I had it made a few days ago."
The almost childlike glee shining through his expression healed something inside her and made her want to jump for joy once more. She'd always thought he was too serious, too mature for his age, but she had to remember how he'd grown up. His current circumstances didn't help either.
I'll never understand how he can read me that well, she thought hazily as she stroked his cheek, eliciting a smile.
"And before you ask," he continued, smiling fondly at her, "we're in Sicily. Palermo."
"So… does that mean we can have pizza for dinner?" she asked hopefully.
He laughed.
"If you so desire it, miss."
She kissed him with all the strength she could muster.