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“Harry Potter” belongs to J.K. Rowling
AN: I want to extend my thanks to the great members of my Discord server, who have helped me with the writing of the chapter itself, but also re-igniting my passion for this.
Special thanks go to Meneldur, who has not only aided me with the crafting and editing of this chapter, but also the story as a whole.
With that out of the way, please enjoy the chapter!
“Dialogue”
‘Thoughts’
“Foreign Language”
A Godfather’s Promise
Chapter XXIII: Home
Harry had expected the weight on his stomach to ease even just slightly after he was found not guilty. It had not. Instead, it grew as he left the Ministry, and kept on eating at him with every step he took, until his entire body was like lead as he stood in front of the door at Grimmauld Place.
‘There’s no point in delaying it.’ Biting his lip, Harry opened the door and walked inside, with Sirius just behind him.
A silver-haired figure smashed against him almost immediately, a long-missed flowery perfume confirming what he already knew. He returned the embrace immediately and lost himself in the moment. The weight was lifted.
“I missed you,” he whispered into her ear.
Fleur’s response was a strangled, joyful sob and a tightening of her embrace.
As soon as the hug ended, another began, though this time around his chest. He looked down to see pale blonde hair. Luna’s face was buried on his chest. Smiling even more, Harry hugged her as well. “How’s my moon doing?”
Luna gave him one of her dreamy smiles. “I’m here with you and you are out of jail, so quite well, all things considered.” She raised herself on her toes to reach his face and kissed his cheek .
Harry smiled uneasily at the two most important women in his life. He had spent much of the last year building the incredible relationship he had with Fleur and Luna… and it could all end in a single night. Could he delay the revelation? No, better to hear it from him than tomorrow’s Daily Prophet article. They deserved that much.
A creaking on the floor drew his gaze to a familiar head of brown hair. She stood beside the door to the kitchen, with wide chestnut eyes and a grumpy ball of orange fur on her arms. “Hermione?” he asked.
She frowned and walked to him, putting Crookshanks on the ground. “Harry James Potter… running into trouble during our school year wasn’t enough? Of all the half-thought, stubborn, foolish, absolutely–”
“‘Mione, it wasn’t my–”
She stopped him with a hug. “I’m so happy to see you safe.” When the hug stopped, she looked at him with stormy eyes. He knew that look. There was something she wanted to say. But he also knew that no amount of prodding would make her talk. Not until she was ready to.
There was nobody else for the moment, thankfully. He was too tired to spend his entire evening getting congratulated by the entire order. Even more when he still needed to tell the news to Fleur and Luna.
Each step he took to the top floor increased the beating of his heart. By the time he reached the door to their room, his hands struggled with the handle thanks to the cold sweat. He looked to his side to see Fleur's smile had been replaced with a look of concern.
“What ‘appened?” she asked.
Harry let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He looked for the nearest couch and collapsed on it, Fleur and Luna taking their seats on the bed, holding hands, Fleur with an emotionless face and Luna with her same dreamy smile. He opened his mouth only for wordless sounds to come out, so he closed it again and swallowed, worrying at his lip.
“I guess I’ll just have to be frank,” exhaled Harry, looking into Fleur’s blue eyes. “My release was not exactly free.” Fleur lightly tightened her hold on Luna’s hand. “I got a visit in prison. A visit from Lord Greengrass. He… wanted something, and would not support me if I did not give it to him. Madam Bones also wanted something similar.”
Fleur gave a single nod, never breaking eye contact with him. “What did zey want?” The question was simple, yet sharply cut up any sugar that he might coat the answer with.
“I agreed to marry Daphne and Susan,” Harry blurted out, such simple words that would change so much.
He expected fury, hurt, and confusion. If Fleur were to transform and start throwing fireballs at him, Harry would be hard-pressed to hold it against her. Crying would be worse, and yet he would still bear the blame. What he did not expect was her entire body to become still as stone.
“I...see,” Fleur kept her poker face for what felt like hours, not even blinking even when she stood up and headed to the door. “I need to go out for a little.” It was not a request, and it was cold. No “mon chéri” or “mon amour”. Not even his name.
Harry wished for a fireball. At least that would’ve been warm.
Taking a deep breath, Harry let his head hang. He should have figured that things had been going unrealistically well for him. Everything had been figured out just a few weeks ago. Two houses and two future wives, and he couldn’t have gotten a better pair of candidates. Barring the fact that he still had to see to a Dark Lord’s demise, his life seemed so simple.
Now, he had to deal with two more witches. One of them the sweetest girl he’d ever known; the other the complete opposite.
A silent movement brought him back to his senses. Kneeling in front of him was Luna, her ever-present dreamy smile plastered on her lips, and yet her silver eyes were stormy. Still, she didn’t say a word, only placed her head on his lap.
Harry pursed his lips and patted her pale blonde hair. “Your words are just as valid as Fleur’s, and yet you haven’t said any. Aren’t you angry at me?”
Luna shook her head. “I can’t be angry at you. It was quite a logical decision, if emotional. I think the most important thing is that you’re back.”
“Well if not me, are you angry with somebody else?”
“I would be angry at the Ministry if it wasn’t a waste of effort. If you’re angry every time the government does something unscrupulous, you’ll never live a happy day in your life. I prefer to take comfort in the things that bring me joy, like you being back with us, Master.”
Harry breathed out a laugh. “Luna?”
“Yes, Master?”
He patted on his lap; Luna jumped up from the floor and sat on it. “I love you.”
“I know, Master,” she said, relaxing on his grip.
“And what do you think about Susan and Daphne? You know them more than Fleur. At least you have seen them in our previous year. Aren’t you angry that they’re going to be with us?”
Luna nestled her head on his chest. “Susan has always been really nice to me. Daphne is mean, but she is mean to everyone. I blame the Blibbering Humdingers. One year ago, I had no friends, and now I have my Master and my Mistress as my best friends. Having two more witches with us means that I can make more friends.”
“Always looking at the positive side of things, aren’t you?”
She rubbed her head on his chest. “The heart isn’t a bowl of pudding, Master. If you have more people to love and be friends with, it doesn’t mean there’s less love and friendship for me. Maybe even the opposite. I have friends now, and I never want to lose them. Even if I must be happy for them when I’m not. It’s alright – I spent too many years being sad.”
Harry passed the next few minutes in silence, passing his fingers through Luna’s pale blonde tresses. She liked that, being treated as a doll. Never one for good fashion sense, Harry still took some comfort in summoning a comb and straightening her hair. Her hair was thicker than Fleur’s, with a few natural curls at the end, and it had the rich fragrance of the forest.
“What have you been up to today?” he asked as he fixed a couple of hairpins.
“It’s been fun staying with Mistress. She’s been teaching me some manners, and she said that we were going to get something called a manicure and a pedicure in something called a ‘beauty salon’. Also, Mistress has been training me in heels.” She flashed the three-inch sandals on her feet. “I’m still starting and I stumble a little, but I’m already better than Nymphadora.”
“Dora? Wearing heels?” Harry chuckled, recalling a time that he and the pink-haired witch had gone to an ice rink and she spent most of the time freezing her behind.
“But I’ve mostly been talking with that lady in the portrait. The one that’s always shouting.”
“Walburga?!” he asked with a frown. In all his life, he had never met a shriller, more spiteful woman than Sirius’ mother. That irremovable painting had been the bane of his eardrums since moving into the safehouse. It almost made the smell seem tolerable by comparison. “Are you actually talking to her?”
“Yes. She’s quite rude.” That was putting it lightly. “But that’s not something that should limit one from talking to another. Do you want to see?”
Pushing aside the image of Sirius’ mother waking every member of the Order, Harry nodded. “Alright. Let’s see.”
Harry followed Luna down the stairs until they reached the covered portrait of Walburga Black. He bit his lip and covered both of his ears as Ravenclaw began to pull off the cloth, humming innocently as the portrait was revealed.
Walburga Black would have been aristocratically beautiful at first glance, having the high-cheekbones, fair skin, blue eyes, and dark hair of the Blacks. The same traits that he often saw in Aunt Andromeda and even Dora when she wasn’t changing her appearance. That was a mask until her face shifted into a scowl, completely ruining her graceful features and transformed into the most vile woman in the world. Even the Black beauty wilted in her rabid hatred.
“Oh… it’s you!” spat the woman. “Get out of my sight and my house, girl!”
“Well, I could, but since this is where I’m sleeping, I’d have to come back.” said Luna, humming a tune as she dragged a chair in front of the portrait and sat on it with a smile. “It’d be quite a waste of time.”
“I want you out of my home! You and the rest of the filth!” screeched Walburga. “This is the house of my fathers and their fathers before them. All of them were born true and pure of the House of Black.”
“Correct!” chirped Luna, swinging her legs playfully. “And I’m going to be the next Lady Black, so you see how it doesn’t make sense for me to leave.”
“Curse you! I will never allow a lowborn blood-traitor to defile this sacred place. You are all thieves who come to destroy our heritage and our blood, just like you did to Black Manor! My ghost will torment all of your seed!”
Luna sighed and shook her head. “It’s not me or the Muggle-Borns that are thieves… it’s the Nargles.”
Walburga’s bloodshot eyes narrowed. “Nargles?!”
“Yes, Nargles. Terrible creatures. Let me tell you all about them.”
For the next couple of hours, Luna calmly explained to the portrait the way Wrackspurts fiddled with brains and how Nargles stole things beneath your nose. The portrait’s screaming was reduced to an ill-mannered conversation that wanted to find logic within Luna’s explanations. The sight of the portrait that had tormented them for weeks not screaming at the top of her lungs drew the attention of a wide-eyed Sirius, followed by Remus, and later on Dora came down. One by one the members of the Order came to witness the spectacle.
“This is just nonsense, girl. I have never seen such creatures,” replied Walburga.
“Well, it’d be quite hard to find the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks nowadays. They live in isolation since they were driven to near extinction after aiding the wizards in the many battles against the Fomori. Balor knew how powerful they were so he cast quite the terrible spell against them that made them think their allies were now enemies. So it’s up to us to find them and lift the illusion,” explained Luna.
“Are you barmy, girl?!” cried the portrait.
“Everyone's a little bit barmy. But at least I don’t scream at the living,” replied Luna. “Now, let me tell you about the secret army of Heliopaths that–”
“No! Cease this madness! Kreacher!”
The prickly old house elf appeared as soon as his name was called. “Yes, mistress?” he croaked. Every eye widened in disbelief as the portrait unstuck itself from the wall and dropped to the ground.
“I cannot listen to this any longer. Take me to the attic and into the trunk. Anything so that I never have to listen to this rotten girl ever again!”
“Of course, mistress,” rasped the elf and with a snap of his fingers, he was gone, leaving only dust and an empty wall where the hateful portrait was once fixed.
Luna’s dreamy smile disappeared. “Aww… I didn’t even finish telling her about the Blibbering Humdingers.”
Deafening silence dominated the hall, the only sounds coming from tired groaning of ancient wood and the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock. Sirius was the first to move open-mouthed towards the place where the mother he hated placed her spiteful remembrance, his eyes turning towards Luna then, and he knelt before the sitting blonde witch to give her an embrace.
Sirius sent a grin at Harry. “I think I love the new Lady Black!”
“Auntie?” Susan stepped into Amelia’s office. “Did you call for me?”
It wasn’t hard to spot the dark circles under her aunt’s eyes, nor the additional white that had replaced the once crimson red of her hair. But even through that, Susan saw a relaxed look on Amelia’s grey eyes. It was the same look that she had when she came home after an intense search for a dark wizard on the loose.
Amelia patted her hand on the chair next to hers and her stomach swirled. That chair had only been used by her a handful of times. It was the chair for important news, whether good or bad. She could only hope for good news.
“There’s something important I need to tell you.” Meepy suddenly appeared into view holding a mug of hot chocolate. Susan was grateful for it. Even on this warm summer day, she was chilled to the bone.
The cold steel of Amelia's eyes softened. The way they only would when in Susan’s presence. These were not the eyes of Madam Bones, diligent head of the DMLE, leader of the Aurors, and agent of law and order. Brave, loyal, and strong. Everything that Susan was not. These were the eyes of her Auntie Amelia, who had done all she could to raise her right, and would move heaven and earth to keep her smiling every day.
“I remember when Edgar first brought you home. You were the most precious treasure to your father and your mother. I remember your healthy giggles, and your little mop of crimson hair, and your happy grey eyes. When your father and I last spoke, he made me swear to protect you. Not for a single moment did it ever cross my mind to refuse, and if there is one good thing I have done in this life, it’s keeping that oath.”
Amelia withdrew her hand. “But… the day will come when I cannot protect you anymore. Age claims me one day at a time, and my power alone is no longer enough. Not in this coming storm.”
“I will protect myself, Auntie. I will. I’ll train day and night until I drop to the floor, and I’ll keep training as I sleep until I am finally worthy of my family’s name.”
A tired laugh escaped Amelia’s lips. “Do you remember that time you brought a dove home? When you were six years old?”
The memory came swiftly. Susan had been out in the gardens, tending to the flowers with a watering pot so heavy that she had to carry it with both hands. Her smile had dropped when a cry of pain came from the forest. When Aunt Amelia returned from a long day of work, Susan had approached her with tears running down her cheeks and a savaged dove barely hanging onto life in her arms.
“You told me that ending its life quickly would be a kindness,” recalled Susan.
“I did,” nodded Amelia. “But you refused to take that answer and spent the next week nursing it back to life, caring for it every moment, feeding it when it could not by itself, until you showed me how it could fly again.”She smiled. “Violence is not in your nature, child. Never has been. Not even when you are being attacked. I knew it since that moment, and every single day since then has further convinced me of that fact.”
Susan hung her head to look at the ground. She should be ashamed. She was ashamed. “Forgive me. Auntie… I swear I will change.”
A comforting hand rested on her shoulders. “There is nothing to forgive, Susan. That kindness is not something that I would see changed. It only means that I had to search for someone that will protect you in my place when I am no longer able to… and today, I finally found him.”
With a bite of her lip, Susan dared to ask, “What do you mean, Auntie?”
“I have found you a future husband.”
All air left Susan’s lungs and her body went cold. Her mouth dropped open, but words refused to come out. Even her toes refused to follow her wishes. For a long moment, she thought her soul had left her body, and she would never move again. That was, until she felt Amelia’s calloused hands grasp her fingers, and enough warmth spread to her body that she managed to feel something again.
“Wh-Wha…” she whined, the only sound that managed to escape her lips.
Susan knew that this day would come. She was the last Bones after all. The last Bones that could produce an heir, at least. Knowing was one thing, the reality was another.
“Do not worry,” replied Amelia with a smile. “You will like him. I think you already do,” she said quickly. “Harry Potter accepted.”
The numbness was suddenly gone, replaced by an overwhelming weight. “H-Harry?”
“They say that there are no more powerful wards than those in Potter Manor, and you will be going there in two days. You’ll be safe there in those walls, and with him. Safer than you could be with me,” declared her aunt with a smile. “And with that, my promise to Edgar is fulfilled. I can continue the fight with a lighter heart, knowing my brother’s daughter and my family will live on.”
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
The smile was replaced with concern. “What is it? It’s true that he won’t be yours alone, but I know once you open yourself to him, he will give you a place in his heart.”
She looked at her trembling hands. “I don’t know how to feel, Auntie,” she admitted.
“Must come as a shock. Forgive me for not consulting with you first. An opportunity presented itself and I just took it before it was gone. It’s in my nature.”
Susan gave an uneasy smile. “There is nothing to forgive. You did it with the best intentions.”
“Aye, but I should still have asked you first. He has Fleur Delacour already and he’ll have to find someone for House Black unless he wants it to fall to the Malfoys… and Lord Greengrass also got a marriage out of him, with his Daphne.”
Eyes snapped open. “Daphne?” she gasped.
“Aye, Cygnus’ most precious jewel. A hundred offers were given for her hand and a hundred were rejected. Malfoy, Nott, Carrow, Yaxley, Avery, Flint. Cygnus spat on them just like they spat on him in his youth. He could only ever marry her to a Potter – his pride would demand nothing less. Merlin, I’m sure he was actually smiling behind that stone face of his when he announced it to the world. Him and his wife, that crafty Eleanor.”
“Auntie?” asked Susan. “You… didn’t force him to accept, did you?” That was what frightened her the most.
There was a brief pause. “I… did not,” her aunt answered. “It was something I asked of him. Cygnus had already forced him and I did not want to put conditions on my support. But I did tell him of our plight, and he accepted. That must mean something.”
It most certainly did. But what it meant, Susan did not know. “May I be excused?”
“Aye. There’s much for you to think about, I’m sure. Meepy will be packing your bags, so you have time for yourself.” Amelia gave her a final smile and returned to her pile of papers.
Susan stepped out of the office and walked through the empty halls of the Manor, the gentle footsteps booming in the desolation. Would Potter Manor be this silent? No, she decided. Nowhere would be silent if Harry Potter was involved. She stepped outside and smiled as the summer sun warmed her skin.
It was a wonderful day. The flowers in the garden opened their petals for the full embrace of the sun while hummingbirds picked at their nectar, their songs filling the usual silence of Bones Manor. At the center stood a large fountain spilling down water over the layers of prancing wolves etched in the marble. Susan often liked to sit at the edge and read or help a wounded animal she had found in the woods, or just to eat a snack. Today she sat with nothing but her thoughts.
The flowers, the warmth, the peaceful movement of the water… marriage to Harry and a future with Daphne. She should be glowing. So why did it all feel like ash in her mouth?
Memories came back and the years were gone. She was in Hogwarts, with the fresh yellow of Hufflepuff added to her black robes, happy to be in the same House as Hannah. They were inseparable since they were little girls. But that day, they had not been together, and an unfortunate turn had seen her at the mercy of Draco Malfoy.
“Your aunt will die one day,” he claimed with a sneer, “father told me so. Her and Longbottom and Abbott and Weasley and all the blood-traitors.” She was being held against the wall by Crabbe and Goyle, who had been gifted with brawn to make up for the lack of brains. “You should be thankful. Maybe when we finally kill your aunt, they'll marry you to Crabbe to clean your blood.” The thug at her right giggled stupidly, and almost made to kiss her…
His lips met only a flash of red. She turned to see a pair of blazing green eyes shimmering in the darkness. Another flash of red and the second brute joined his friend. Harry could have done the same for Malfoy, but he instead disarmed him and beat him until blood spilled out his nose and mouth. He got into trouble for that, lost so many points that everyone thought Gryffindor would have no chance of winning that year. Yet when their eyes met the next day, he only smiled. “It was worth it,” he said before going to Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger.
But there was one day when his friends were not there. Nor was anyone, not after he had spoken in the serpent’s tongue. Nobody wanted to be seen with a future Dark Lord. He was alone, sitting in the Great Hall. Harry put on a strong, proud face, but she could see the sorrow hidden behind the emerald eyes. She could have gone to him, she could have comforted him, and she did stand up, until Hannah’s hand grabbed her own and pulled her back on the seat, the eyes of her House accusing her. And now, despite her lack of spine, she was being awarded marriage to him.
‘You don’t deserve this, coward.’
Not only her, she reminded herself. Harry had Fleur Delacour – the most beautiful woman in the world – at his side. A witch of unsurpassable loveliness, she had stuck with him throughout his most testing year, ready to face even the Dark Lord. Along with him would be Daphne Greengrass. A colder, darker, more austere beauty, yet a beauty nonetheless. She could defeat everyone without words alone. Two women of unrelenting strength.
‘You are weak.’
Susan was not ambitious. Never had been. Knowing what was expected of her, as much as her Aunt had tried to shelter her, made her know what the future held for her. And yet she had dreamed of black hair and green eyes… and violet eyes. Not because she wanted money, or fame. Only so that she could smile and laugh and live happily.
‘You don’t deserve happiness.’
Somehow, the dream had come true. The dream that had been twisted into a curse.
Cygnus Greengrass was not in his office as he usually was when he was at home. It made Daphne realize that she rarely ever saw her father in any other place in the manor aside from the few times the whole family dined together. The ever busy Lord Greengrass didn’t have time for anything that wasn’t a new deal. Instead she found him in the gardens, sitting with her mother, holding hands.
Daphne stood behind a pillar to watch the rare spectacle. How long had it been since she’d seen her father smile? How long had it been since she’d seen him smile with her mother? Had it ever happened at all before now?
Fixing her posture, Daphne elegantly strode into view. “Good afternoon, father, mother. Do you have need of me?”
Cygnus nodded at the spare chair. Daphne said nothing as she sat down, but witnessed a subtle, complex dance of stares between her parents. She felt like a stranger, seeing two adults speaking in a language she could not understand. “You are unusually happy today,” she commented.
“I have a reason to be,” her father drawled, baritone voice imposing even when calm. “This is the day I secured the future of our family.”
Daphne felt her stomach twist. Those words could only mean one thing.
“Cygnus and I found you a match,” confirmed Eleanor with a gentle smile.
‘Cygnus and I… Cygnus and I…’ Her own mother had taken part in her sale. Daphne had never felt such betrayal. She wanted to scream.
Instead, Daphne straightened her posture and gave a dutiful nod. “I understand my duty, father. May I know the identity of my betrothed. Will the alliance be with Nott, or Flint… or will it be with Malfoy?” ‘Not Malfoy. Morgana please, not Malfoy.’
Her father’s eyes hardened. “My bones will turn to dust before I shame the family name by allowing those ill-bred French upstarts or their lackeys to have the blood of Morgana,” spat her father. “No. You are to be married to a young man worthy of you and your lineage.”
Eleanor took the chance to sneak an “I told you so” look at Daphne. Not Malfoy, at least. That alone was a blessing in a sea of damnation.
“If not Malfoy, then whom?” she asked, barely able to suppress the iron in her voice.
Her father made a self-satisfied smile. “There is only one family that is worthy of you, daughter. Harry James Potter has agreed to marry you, and all of the special benefits of his House will follow your children. The name Greengrass will rise above all, now and always, and even an irresponsible descendant will not be able to tear down what we’ve built.”
Eleanor reached for Daphne’s hand and held it reassuringly. “Your father also talked to this Potter boy to make sure he is the right sort. One that is not plagued by the cruelties that afflict the other families. He will be good to you, daughter. An excellent match.”
“Of course, this is a matrilineal marriage and I expect his French Veela will do for the Potter line. Nevertheless, he is the only wizard I found worthy. He will provide for you, and your children. Much better than the filth daring to ask for your hand,” said her father with a satisfied smirk.
Daphne looked at both her parents gaze at each other with smiles, holding hands gently. She dug her nails into her own palms.
‘I will not speak out. I will not.’ She had promised herself when this day came that she would not. For her family. For her sisters. To chain the fury in her heart and do her duty. Easy to say that when the raging fire was not fighting to come out.
“Do you have a question?” asked her father.
Daphne clenched her fists. “The first real memory I have of you is taking me to your office for your lessons.” She tried to stop. She had to stop… but she couldn’t. “Every day I learned about people, and their families, and their lineages. Every day you gave me a scroll or a text and the next day you would test me. You took me to meet those sworn to you and learn how to sway others and keep them on your side, and when that was done, how to run your house.” She met her father’s violet eyes with her own, her voice still soft, but hard as steel and bitter as gall. “So… after all that, why didn’t you just have me apprentice with a Knockturn Alley whore if getting fucked was all I was meant to do?”
“Daphne…” started her father, and her mother’s eyes softened.
She would not hear it. For once Daphne did not want to think of the Greengrass name and her place in it. Grabbing her skirts, she ran as fast as her legs would allow, ignoring the voices of her parents and the flabbergasted looks of the servants until she reached her room and slammed the door behind her.
Her body slid down to the floor. There was a blurriness in her eyes that she hadn’t seen in years. Tears. How long had it been since she had last allowed herself to release tears? A furious hand rubbed them away but they could not stop her lips from trembling. No matter how much she had prepared for the certainty of her fate, the blow still hurt.
‘Potter. Harry James Potter. Son of James and Lily. Adopted son and heir of Sirius Black. The Last Dragon of House Potter.’
The name had been one of many her father made her memorize before going to Hogwarts, but his was among the most he insisted on. Him and his sigil, the black dragon. It was a symbol that made her stare in awe as a child. It was even more intimidating than the Bones’ with their bloodthirsty grey wolf, commanded more respect than the imposing lion of the Longbottoms, filled her with more dread than the skull, sword, and crows of the Blacks, and was more striking than the majestic hawk of her own family.
Everyone talked about him before she even saw him in Hogwarts, and when she finally met him, he didn’t disappoint. Snape was right in calling him arrogant – exaggerate as he might – but Potter had the presence to back up his arrogance. He was powerful and he was smart. In his first year, he had killed a secret Death Eater, in his second, a basilisk, and in his third stopped an army of Dementors. In this year, he not only won the inappropriately named Triwizard Tournament, he fought against the Dark Lord and lived to tell the tale.
‘Now he is to be my husband.’
Harry Potter was courageous and honorable, almost foolishly so. As a husband, he would not mistreat her or parade her to others. That alone already made him a far more inviting prospect than Malfoy. And he was handsome, with that raven-black hair and shining green eyes. It was easy to fall in love with him, the image of him, at least. ‘If it has to be someone, it might as well be him,’ Daphne remembered telling Susan.
That had been speculation. Now, reality forced itself into her thoughts and Daphne found herself forced to think about more than Harry the student. What did she truly know of the man whose fate she would be tied to? What was he behind the teasing comments and self-confident attitude?
‘And he’s taken,’ Daphne reminded herself. Anyone with eyes knew that his heart belonged to Delacour. What would she be in that marriage? A woman on the side, to lay with only to secure an alliance through blood and lineage? Someone to grace the bed out of duty alone?
Forcing the thoughts out of her head, Daphne stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath. She only allowed herself to think of her sisters. Astoria, with her hopes and dreams of love, and of Charlotte and Elizabeth, too young to know of such things. If someone had to suffer her father’s… and mother’s ambitions, it should be her.
Swiftly fixing her face, Daphne strode out of her room, ready to meet her duty.
The life of a Veela was hard.
None of the daughters of Aphrodite lacked looks, that was what most people focused on. It was true for both wizards and witches. Beauty was their gift… and their curse. Fleur was proud of who she was, and yet knew that it always made everything more complicated: social life, friendships… and love.
She knew just how hard it was, her mother and grandmother made sure to tell her that. Normal witches could go to any young wizard, while Veela had to search long and far for potential partners. The ones they eventually found were strong, powerful, and influential, which of course painted a long history of Veela being considered temptresses. Getting paired with such partners meant that even after the search, more challenges would eventually come. Fleur should have known that it would not be easy.
Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass.
In the long history of Veela, polygamy had not been uncommon. The coven had many such stories of it. But the stories focused on the romantic side of it: a king that took a Veela as his true love even when he was married, or a lord that changed the laws to take another, Veela wife. Or, in the more daring stories the older Veela told to themselves, of falling in love with the queen first.
For a time, the stories had come true with Luna. The Ravenclaw was fun and innocent and even more perverted than she was, who loved her just as much as she loved Harry. Now there were two more. Susan Bones – a kind-hearted witch with no stomach for conflict – and Daphne Greengrass, who was a mystery. The only thing she could say about the violet-eyed aristocrat was that she was a proud bitch that came from a proud family.
How was this supposed to work? How were they supposed to live? Could she and Harry be as free as they wanted to, or would they have to hide once again?
The thoughts kept on coming to her head as she walked through the dimly lit streets. She passed a park and a construction site and went further to a pub, before turning the corner again and again, only taking a different turn past the park until her feet led her back between the eleventh and thirteenth houses of Grimmauld Place.
She thanked her fortunes that the entrance was empty. Another petty argument with Molly Weasley and she would have burned the dreary house with fireballs. There was only one soul still outside her room.
“You’re back,” noted Nymphadora Tonks, a large spoon in one hand and in the other, a bucket of ice cream. “Want some?” she offered.
Fleur almost reflexively refused, but she saw the blackcurrant picture on the bucket. “Oui.”
They found a quiet place in the living room to eat, thankful for the silence. Dora had told her that everyone would sleep easier now that Luna had gotten rid of the blasted portrait. It was Dora that started talking.
“He told you.” Dora was not one for tact.
She gave a simple nod.
“Not the first thing one would want to hear after someone comes back from trial,” sighed Dora, shaking the bucket at her “A second scoop for your thoughts?”
Fleur took the offer. “I would give zem to you eef I knew zem myself.” The ice passed her lips. It was creamy, and didn’t have the usual preservatives muggles used. Dora had good taste.
“You had already accepted Luna into your relationship. How would this be any different?”
“Luna was different. Adding ‘er to our relationship was somezing ‘Arry and I both agreed on after a talk. Luna was also more agreeable to our… special relationship.” Fleur left it at that. “Daphne Greengrass and Susan Bones are strangers, and ‘Arry did not consult wiz me before ‘e made ze decision. We entered zis relationship telling each ozzer zat we were in zis together, and just a few months later, zis ‘appens.”
“What’s next, then? Do you break it off here and now and go find someone else?”
Fleur saw the ice cream turn to liquid. Another one? No. She didn’t want someone else.
“It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone else. Not for you, at least,” mused Dora. Oh, how little she knew! “There should be someone out there that leads a calm life. Or at least someone that doesn’t drool like a bulldog eyeing a piece of beef. Someone like Bill.”
“Oh, I’m sure ‘e would just love zat, wouldn’t ‘e?” The oldest Weasley hadn’t bothered her like two youngest siblings. But she didn’t fail to notice him staring longer than was appropriate. It would be one thing if he was just a drooling moron like almost everyone she met. The looks were from one that was not turned dumb by her allure. That actually made it worse: he knew better, and yet didn’t stop doing it anyway.
“Bill is not a bad guy.” defended Dora. “He’s just a little… different these last few days.”
Fleur nodded with a clenched jaw. Even those not affected by a Veela’s allure tended to not be themselves in the presence of one. Bill was a handsome man and a hard worker that would have more than one witch after his hand. But not her; she was taken.
“I don’t want someone else,” she stated firmly. “I only want ‘Arry.”
“Then why are you here?” demanded Dora, her voice turning to iron. “He loves you. He accepted the deal because of you. He’d do everything and more for you. So why are you not with him? Are you just going to give up on him because things became hard?”
Fleur snapped her eyes open and looked at the floor but her mind was elsewhere, not in this time and not in this place.
“Love is hard,” her grandmother had once said. “True love. Not the fanciful kisses when the sun embraces you with its warmth. That love is like copper – easy to make, pretty to look at… but one unfortunate bend and see it lose its worth. The only love worth forging is like steel. Have you ever seen the smiths working it? It takes a toll on the body, and on your mind, and the flames needed to mold it will sting even a Veela’s flesh. But Fleur, once it has been forged, it never breaks.”
She turned to Dora again. “I… zank you.” She stood up, eyes staying with her pink-haired friend. Dora pursed her lips and nodded back. No more words needed to be said; Fleur walked swiftly to the highest floor until, with a paused breath, she stared at the door.
A shaky hand grabbed the blemished brass handle and twisted.
Harry sat near the fireplace, looking at the wall while his hands were stroking Luna’s hair. The blonde knelt beside her Master, head placed on his lap. Both silver and emerald eyes opened to see her, and both of them gave a grin, though Harry’s was forced and tired. But his eyes… his eyes were still filled with that same love.
Walls she had built were destroyed. The anger that had covered her fear dissipated, with the fear gone. She rushed to him for an embrace. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He should have been angry with her actions, furious. Instead, his arms circled her form. Tears sprang from her eyes but her body felt light as a feather.
“It’s alright,” responded Harry. “Thinking back on it, I could’ve reached out for you first, should’ve reached out for you first. When they mentioned the Dementor’s Kiss… all I wanted was to return to you, and I just said yes to everything!” The anger was directed at himself.
“Eet’s not your fault,” assured Fleur. A look into his eyes softened all the rage she had left. He loved her, he had always loved her, would always love her. “We are united again, ready to face ze coming challenges. Just like we said we would, non?”
Harry nodded. “Together,” he assured with a kiss.
“So… when are zey going to arrive?”
Harry took a deep breath. “I talked about it with Lord Greengrass and Amelia Bones. Susan is coming to Potter Manor in three days. I figured she would… easier than Daphne.”
“She is sweet,” agreed Fleur. Susan had a rose-tinted view of what Harry was truly like, but at least she lacked the absolute hostility that Daphne constantly exuded.
“Yes… well. I figured that we have enough time to get her on our side. It’s not going to be easy, but it won’t be as hard as with Daphne.” He sighed. “Daphne… Daphne Greengrass… Merlin, how the hell am I going to deal with her? I thought at least she and Susan would have each other, but now that I really think about it, I barely know her.”
“We will deal wiz ‘er when ze time comes,” Fleur said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “For now, Susan, oui?”
“Susan,” agreed Harry, rubbing his temples and taking a deep breath. “Yes… you’re right. We’ll deal with it as it comes.” He opened his eyes slowly, with a dead gaze that progressively came to be that calm green that she had grown to love. However, the emerald lust that came after, she loved even more.
Fleur chose not to wait and immediately locked her lips with his. It felt like years since she’d last tasted his minty breath. When she felt his arms snake around her in a possessive grip, fire swelled inside her that ignited her heritage. She was a being of love and passion, and the cold tinder was roaring to life.
Their bodies moved in a passionate, desperate tandem. As his hands reached for her skirt’s zipper, her own fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. A squeal erupted from her as Luna’s small hands tugged everything below her waist down. The back of her knees bumped against the bed and Fleur dropped to the mattress.
She raised her head to see Harry’s trousers being undone by a diligent Luna. His cock sprang from his underwear, straight as a spear and hard as wood. The Ravenclaw opened her mouth to swallow, blonde hair swaying as she lubricated his tool. She withdrew with a smile, a trail of saliva leading from her lips to his angry red tip.
Green eyes turned to her. She was wet enough without Luna’s help.
There was no foreplay to be had, not this night. Harry's body pressed against hers and he claimed her mouth. A hard warmth pressed against her entrance, slowly parting her walls. A moan left her lips as both of his hands grasped her breasts firmly.
“I missed this,” he sighed, leaving her mouth to drag his tongue over her nipples.
“Ah… I needed zis as well.” An evil little thought wormed its way into her. “Perhaps eef you ‘adn’t been released, I would’ve been forced to find someone to satisfy me in ze meantime, oui?”
Harry stopped entering and stared at her with hardened eyes. “What?”
“Bill was staring at me all ze time,” she whispered with a hidden grin. “I zink ‘e is not ‘appy wiz your release.” Anger fueled fire, and fire made for a better lover. “Do you zink, eef I ‘ad not met you, or eef I was displeased, I would ‘ave gone to him? Hmmm? Or maybe zat Davies…”
A sharp gasp erupted as he entered her, fully and swiftly. He’d taken her so carefully their first time. Now, he was claiming her.
“You are mine!” he growled. Two large hands grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. “Fuck Bill. Fuck Davies. Last time somebody tried to touch you, I cut off his hand. Next time, I’ll cut off his cock.” The member inside her withdrew and rammed again, just as rough; just as sweet. Oh, Aphrodite, he was a beast when he was mad!
All control of her body was taken in the most aggressive and arousing manner. Her hands were useless as her Master entered and exited roughly, showing none of his earlier exhaustion. Lust and anger were the only fuel he needed. The only thing she could do was raise her trembling legs and gently lock them around his body, sealing them both in an unbreakable bond. What a fool she had been, to be afraid that anyone could come between them, between doing what they loved with who they loved. Sweat from her Maître’s brow landed on her own fiery skin, her breasts glistening with the dim lighting. The sweat cooled until her pale nipples hardened.
Harry let out a lustful growl and dove his head to her breasts, his free hand pinching one of her nipples while the other, he sank his teeth into. Pain shot into her body, but along with it came an unmistakable tickling wave of pure ecstasy across her spine, feeding her own lust until it was about to explode.
Finally, her lover’s aggressive thrusts began to slow down, though they remained just as intense. Both of their juices were pooled beneath her entrance. Just as she felt her own climax coming… he stopped.
“Maître?”
“Hold it.” His voice was like iron. “Don’t you dare cum without my permission.”
She opened her mouth to plead, and her eyes actually pleaded, but the command was made. Fleur clenched her womanhood around his dick, and held the climax at bay as his cock entered it again. It was harder for him this time, but the hardness still reached deep inside her walls. She was wet enough for it to slide right through.
“Can I cum?!”
“I go first!”
‘Dear Aphrodite, make him climax already!’ Closing her eyes, she stilled her body and bit her lip, her will a dam holding back the flood of ecstasy. When she opened her eyes again, he was biting his lip as well. So close. He was so close!
Finally, his cock speared her again, this time deeper than before, and his groan was louder than hers. A loving warmth entered her womb, and after remembering she had taken the potion before, she allowed herself to close her eyes and rest, frustrated as she was. It took a few moments of silence until she looked at Harry again.
Her Maître was panting atop her, eyes shifting from beast to man again as he kissed her again, gently this time. She felt him pour all his love into her, and with love she received it. He withdrew slowly and with trembling hands, still breathing heavily. A whine escaped her lips – she still needed her own release.
Luna swiftly left her kneeling position and crawled towards Harry, until her mouth was next to his softening manhood. At a nod from Harry, she took the length between her lips. Luna bobbed her head back and forth a few times, only stopping when Harry’s cock was clean of juices.
Harry patted her blonde hair lovingly. “Good girl,” he cooed, his fingers curling around her tresses like a handle until it became a firm grip he used to turn her head towards Fleur. “Do you think she deserves a reward, little moon?”
Fleur could only send her a pleading look.
The blonde glanced up at her Master and gave an excited nod. “Mistress needed to be reminded who she belonged to, Master. She knows it now.”
“Be a dear, then,” he said, pulling his pants back on.
Too tired to keep her head up, Fleur looked at the ceiling, and a giggle erupted as she felt Luna’s excited little tongue between her legs, taking Harry’s seed and her juices. She would have to return the favor later. Luna was easy to please.
‘Later,’ she thought. Her fingers closed around the blonde’s long tresses and pulled her closer.
The trees billowed softly in the summer breeze, blowing their soft summer fragrance across the field, the rolling hills and the large plains, all of it covered with green grass. It was a welcome contrast to the stench of Grimmauld, and the suffocating dampness of the Ministry jail. It almost reminded Harry of his home in Berkshire.
‘Former home,’ he thought quickly. For this was the road to Potter Manor… his new home.
He broke his gaze from the scenery to look at an even more pleasant sight. Luna was sitting next to him, and Fleur next to her.
Wards made Potter Manor inaccessible via apparition, much to Harry’s relief, and the Floo Network connection had long been severed until he would allow it to be reestablished. None in the Order were eager to contact the Ministry for a Portkey, and Fleur had utterly refused the suggestion of using the Knight Bus once she had been properly informed of the hazards.
Hence, they had to travel the Muggle way.
“Eet’s nice,” admitted Fleur as they left the old city of Bath behind and entered the Somerset countryside. “I imagine ze old barbarians must ‘ave been incensed to leave their old mudhuts behind to experience civilization. Only a drop in an empty bucket compared to Marseille, but I guess zat not much can be asked from zis side of ze Channel.”
Harry could have sworn the driver muttered something about frogs.
“Nearly there. Bloody roads have more cracks and bumps than my missus’ arse,” grunted the cab driver with a cough. He was a middle-aged man with a fondness for smoking and colorful language, but he kept a clean vehicle. And he was the only one in the train station that could keep their eyes on the road and off Fleur.
The roads became one once they passed the last village, and smaller, the paved road turning to dirt, until it reached a dead end. Harry opened the door to look closer.
“Sure you got the right direction?” asked the driver, lighting up another cigarette. “Ain’t nothing here ‘cept the trees.”
He walked only a few steps until he saw an old pedestal. “This is the place,” Harry said firmly, opening the door and helping Luna and Fleur out. He took out several pounds for the driver and gave him a little extra.
“Alright,” said the driver, though he was still a little unsure. “Nearest town is five miles away. Only one road. Shouldn’t get lost,” he said before he restarted his engine and drove off.
Harry waited until the cab disappeared before he turned his attention back to the pedestal. It was made out of old stone, and nature’s tendrils strangled its base, but there was the unmistakable sculpture at its top. A stone dragon with its head pointed at the sky and underneath, a worn inscription.
VERVM SANGVINE MARTEM
Harry reached into his trunk and pulled out the dagger he kept hidden in the secret compartment. The edge glittered in the sun and cut easily into his palm. Fleur flashed him a glance of concern but he merely placed his hands over the pedestal.
The dragon greedily swallowed his blood down its stone gullet. Every drop seemed to be bringing the creature to life, as if it were shedding years of dirt and grime until the gray stone became a pure white marble. All except the dragon itself. The beast had turned into the deepest of black with eyes as red as the blood it had feasted on. Its head lowered down and out of its mouth came a guttural screech while spreading onyx wings. Harry did not show fear. It was a dragon’s greeting.
A welcome to home.
Behind the pedestal, the landscape shimmered like transparent silk. The grass gave way to a stone road, colored white and untouched by time. The tree branches shifted to form an arch, the brown bark became intricate sculptures of peoples, ships, armies, dragons, and gods. By some spell they worked, rowed, waged war, roared fire and ruled. Above it all, a marble plaque rested proudly.
PER POTENTIAM
DRACO PRAECEPTA
ET SCVLPET IMPERIVM SVVM
L. POTERIVS MAGNVS
Harry strode through the arch and as he passed through its shadow, the rest of the mirage had vanished. The road led to a large manor. The building showed its Roman roots with its white columns and arches, yet the stained glass, lancet windows, and gothic spires intertwined seamlessly with the earlier design.
With an excitement he could barely restrain, he climbed the steps to the entrance and stood in front of a wooden door decorated with iron dragons. His hand touched the metal, it felt warm. The door slid open without a sound.
The floor was a rich black marble, cleaned to a shine. The whole place was clean, as if untouched by the years of abandonment. Harry recalled Sirius saying the charms included self-cleaning spells and figured he had been right. A grand staircase led to the second floor while large doors led to other rooms in the ground. Flanked by drapes, the walls were covered in paintings and at the foot of the stairs, several busts and sculptures. Looking up, past the large crystal chandelier, was a domed ceiling depicting a black dragon with two golden gladius swords, spitting fire and roaring in defiance.
“Magnifique,” gasped Fleur, for once not having a snarky comment. “Is zis to be your home, mon chéri?”
He turned back at her with a large grin. Luna had already disappeared through a doorway to explore the rooms, even more excited than he was. His arms circled around Fleur and his lips captured hers.
“No,” he said. “It’s going to be our home.”
AN: Another year, another chapter. Yes, I am aware that it took ten months for a chapter to come out, but it has been a busy year with both work and studies. I barely have time. Hopefully the new chapter takes considerably less time.
This chapter was fairly tame in the smut department compared to what we’ve seen before, but don’t worry you perverts. The kinkiness is coming.
If you liked this chapter and the story, please leave a review, and if you want, join my Discord server.
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Until next time!
The Metal Sage