章 36: Family
Lightning suddenly flashed outside the floor to ceiling windows, calling her attention to the weather outside. There were hints of a summer storm coming. A soft knock at the door interrupted her reverie.
'Lord Potter to see you, ma'am,'
Turning around, she watched as the door opened fully to admit the young man she had last seen two months back. The teenager had changed in that short amount of time. He seemed to fill the room with his presence, power just oozing off him. His eyes, once a vibrant green, were now even brighter, positively glowing with power. The effect was rather eerie.
'I have a question to ask your majesty, if I may be so forward?' He said after protocol was followed, and pleasantries exchanged.
'And what would that be, Lord Potter?'
'Is there any reason for the increased security? I must admit to finding myself rather disconcerted at seeing so many men facing me with assault rifles and wands in hand as one of them demanded that I hand my wand in.'
The Queen's mouth gave an imperceptible twitch. 'It is a security measure, Lord Potter. The first time you came to see me you were accompanied by the Minister of Magic. This is the first time we are alone. As you have yet to swear fealty to us, we must make sure that no harm comes to our person.
'But not to worry,' she continued. 'It is something all wizards and witches who meet us are subject to. Those who hold a post in the magical government, or have been inducted into the Order of Merlin, or have a seat in your court or your legislative body are exempt from this as they have already made their oath of fealty.
'Now, to business: I have received a recommendation from the Minister of Magic for your induction to the Order of Merlin, first class for your services towards the country by destroying the terrorist styling himself as Lord Voldemort. I would very much like to hear your account of how that came to be.'
Harry repeated the cover story that he and Draco had concocted for Madam Bones. The story was that Draco had been captured by Severus Snape and the other Death Eaters who had invaded Hogwarts under the orders of Voldemort, as he was not happy with Lucius Malfoy. The Dark Lord, meanwhile, had placed Narcissa Malfoy under the Imperius and made Malfoy Manor his base of operations. During his time of capture, Draco had somehow managed to get a message out to Harry. Harry then visited Malfoy Manor with a group of other wizards where they had taken care of Voldemort.
The official, legal line was that Harry and a few friends had gone to visit his cousin, Draco Malfoy, where they "stumbled" across Voldemort. What happened in Malfoy Manor was described as self-defence, neatly taking care of any dissenters who would have tried to say anything.
As Joe, the leader of Flamel's private army had died shortly after the battle with Voldemort, the only real witness to Harry's impressive display of wandless magic was Draco. Narcissa had been too traumatised with Lucius to notice and the other survivors who had gone hunting for Nagini only saw Harry burst out into the sky in chase of Voldemort.
Harry really had no qualms about modifying the blonde's memory. They may no longer be enemies, but that didn't change the fact that Draco was a git.
Besides, doing that made sure that no one knew anything about his abilities.
'That was very impressive, Lord Potter,' the Queen said after Harry finished recounting his story. 'You do lead an interesting life.'
'I wouldn't mind if the rest of the days of my life end up being dull and boring,' Harry said with a modest smile.
The Queen smiled blandly. 'The ceremony for the Order of Merlin will be held shortly. Someone from my office shall tell you the details later. You have studied the oath that you are to give, I trust?' Seeing Harry nod, she stood up, swiftly followed by the young man.
'Very well, I shall see you a few days later.' She extended her hand imperiously.
Gently clasping it and inclining his head, Harry took a step backward.
Not bothering to see him leave, the Queen turned around and headed towards her desk.
'Your majesty?' The Queen turned around to face him upon hearing his hesitant voice.
'Yes?'
'Imperio,'
The group of Seventh-Years stood in front of the Hogwarts Express, a nostalgic smile on their faces.
'This will be the last time we will be boarding the train to start a year at school,' Neville commented wistfully.
The others made noises of agreement.
'Don't forget that we just finished the last summer holidays as well,' Susan added.
Harry softly sighed in contentment. After Voldemort had been defeated, the holidays had been everything short of idyllic. All he could remember of those days was the bright sunshine, Daphne, moving into the renovated Potter ancestral home, Daphne, Neville's spectacular seventeenth birthday bash, Daphne, his equally spectacular birthday bash (organised with the help of his future in-laws), and finally, Daphne.
It was reminiscent of the summers he had before second and third years. The beginning was lousy, but the ending was brilliant.
Of course, that wasn't to say that the latter half of the summer had been perfect. There had been some stressful situations. Nymphadora's unborn baby had been one of them.
Knowing that she was going to die anyway, the Healers had focussed all their energies into saving the baby. To that end, upon getting the necessary approval from Harry, they all but gutted the dying woman. Carefully, they removed the entire womb, with the baby inside, and with quite a few necessary spells and other magical devices, transferred the womb to an artificial construct.
Harry remembered those days as he periodically visited the hospital. The magical machine looked like a huge flesh coloured egg with veins protruding out from it. If he looked closely, he could see the baby's face through the translucent membrane. He also had to donate quite a bit of blood and magic to stabilise the baby. The demand was only halved thanks to Daphne volunteering.
The Healers were expecting the baby to be properly developed by the twentieth of September. It was a month longer than had the baby been conceived through natural means, but they did not want to take any chances. This would be the first human born through such a method. To add to that, the baby was the godson of the person who had defeated Lord Voldemort. Failure, in the Healers' minds, was not an option.
Harry had initially wanted to name the boy "Teddy" to honour the mother as he knew that it was what Nymphadora wanted to name the child. However, Daphne (who had taken quite a shine to the baby) put her foot down. She contended that a person who was born from such unique circumstances did not deserve what she called "a painfully common name".
The young couple had a small fight over it before Daphne's mother, Alana, suggested a compromise.
And so, in about twenty days, the world would welcome Lord Edmund Harry Potter-Black, the Baron Black (informally referred to as Teddy).
The other thing that was slightly tense was Bill's wedding to Fleur which took place on the twenty-ninth of July. The new head of the Weasley clan had practically bullied Harry into coming with promises that he would keep certain members of the family out of Harry's way. Harry had eventually acquiesced, but had insisted on coming after downing some Polyjuice Potion.
The one bright thing about that wedding (other than the anonymity and the happiness he felt at seeing two people he deeply cared about joined in matrimony) was that he had found out that Charlie, Fred and George were just as confused and horrified that their mother and younger brother would do something like that. They too had no idea about the money, and the twins had actually sworn magical oaths to that effect. It had gone a long way in helping Harry overcome the melancholy he felt.
He did not know, nor care, about Percy, since he had not bothered to attend the wedding.
Bill had immediately left for Egypt with his new wife, now that there were no pressing issues to keep him in Britain. Harry suspected that it was also partly because he wanted to be as far away from his mother. The last he knew, Fred and George too had been keeping minimal contact with the woman lately. He could not help but feel a pang of guilt for being the cause of the split in the family.
'Oi, get a move on,' Neville's voice cut through Harry's thoughts. 'We wouldn't want the Head Boy missing the train, now would we?' he said with a smirk.
'Oh, right, coming.' Harry said, hurrying towards the train.
Harry sat back in the prefect's compartment once he was done with the meeting. He and the Head Girl, Padma Patil, had met Professor McGonagall over the summer to discuss their responsibilities and the responsibilities of the new prefects as well as the House Captains. That is, after he had handed control of the wards back to her.
Getting up, he followed Neville out of the Prefect's compartment. Neville's appointment had been one of the many changes the new headmistress had hinted at. It had seemed that the former transfiguration teacher had had enough of Weasley's shenanigans. It was to the point that she was seriously considering having Seamus Finnigan as the replacement. Upon Harry's recommendation, she appointed Neville Longbottom.
On the way to his friends, Harry stopped to check in on Mark Evans.
Mark's situation had been one other black spot in Harry's post-Voldemort summer.
Harry had been quite surprised to receive an owl from one of the first-years in his house, one fine day in the middle of August.
Opening the letter and going through its contents, Harry felt a surge of anger. It appeared that Mark's parents had decided (over the course of Mark's first year) that the boy not be allowed to learn more of this "Magic nonsense".
Mark had not been happy about their decision and had vehemently argued against it. It had come to such a point that his parents had restricted him to his room for the summer, locking away his magical things, and preventing him from contacting any of his friends from the school as they set about forcing him to pursue a "normal" education.
Unable to contact anybody in the magical world, Mark finally caught a break when he managed to telephone one of his half-blood friends, Callan.
Callan had subsequently sent an owl to the one person he felt would be able to help out here. Harry was close enough in age to the younger boy, and also a hero according to the paper.
Harry was grimly surprised to find himself Apparating to Little Whinging. He had wondered why Mark Evans was so familiar. Who would have thought that he was the same Mark Evans that he had saved from Dudley and his gang the previous summer?
He had appeared just in time, too. As he approached the house, he could hear shouting. This was shortly followed by screaming and the sound of someone falling down stairs.
Not bothering to knock, Harry blew the door open. Inside, the first thing he saw was the twelve year old moaning at the foot of the stairs.
Harry saw red. That scene reminded him of his time with the Dursleys. Keeping his cool, he got the boy out of the house and out of earshot. Then he turned to the parents, a murderous look in his eerily glowing backlit eyes.
He did not bother to listen to the terrified Muggles' protests as he forced them to sign over all rights to him in a handwritten letter. He had heard the same excuses from the Dursleys every time someone asked questions. Once he had their consent, he erased their memories and magically induced them to pack their bags and leave the country.
Smiling at the Second-Year and his friends, Harry moved on. The incident with the Evans family had given him an idea to present to Nicholas while also reminding him what he had discussed with Draco Malfoy all those months back when their rivalry had died. It had also given him a goal to pursue in the long run. His work wasn't done yet. The magical world still was not safe. It fell to him to ensure its safety. Voldemort was only one problem. The root cause was still out there.
Harry did not know it, and he never would, but Dumbledore's intentions for him, when he reluctantly started to implement his plans to prepare the boy for the inevitable final confrontation with Voldemort had led to this situation. Harry Potter would not have come to this point if it was not for Dumbledore.
It did not take long for the returning students to realise the changes that had taken place thanks to Professor McGonagall's appointment as headmaster.
Her replacement, a Professor Olivia Tannen was just as strict and demanding as she was (though some would call the new teacher stricter than McGonagall) while the new Head of Gryffindor House was the young and beautiful Aurora Sinistra, the Astronomy professor. The Slytherins had Horace Slughorn as their Head of House. The unanimous opinion (even in Slytherin house, surprisingly) was that he was better than Snape.
But that was nothing compared to the fact that Sybil Trelawney was no longer teaching at Hogwarts. The running theory among the upper years (who were quite familiar with the strict new headmistress' disdain for the subject and the teacher) was that Trelawney's sacking was the first thing Professor McGonagall had seen to the minute her post was confirmed.
Surprisingly, it did not mean an end to Divination classes. McGonagall was impressed enough with Firenze's teaching and methods of divining that she kept the centaur as the teacher for the subject.
Their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was quite engaging and competent. Moreover, he had managed to stay on the staff at the end of the year, much to the relief of his employer as well as the students.
Harry married Daphne on a beautiful crisp clear winter day in December, with Neville standing by his side. He managed to fulfil Daphne's initial wish and had her screaming not only on their first night as a married couple, but many subsequent nights afterward.
The ceremony was kept quiet and only friends and immediate family were invited. The public was told of this fact the next day through an announcement in the paper, and a high profile party was organised at the Potter ancestral mansion to commemorate the union and make political connexions.
Harry's final year in school followed the tone of the latter half of his summer holidays. While it was busy (what with him studying for his N.E.W.T.s, Head Boy duties, Quidditch, and a wife) the absence of a life threatening danger made it serene and peaceful. And his powers as the Master of Death made casting new spells a breeze. On top of that, there were the moments of pure bliss spent in Daphne's company. So much so that he had a cheerful expression on his face all throughout the N.E.W.T.s (much to the incredulity of his peers).
To challenge himself, Harry had taken to learning as much as he could beyond Hogwarts while still at school. Under the tutelage of the headmistress (who had made sure to involve herself personally in the project once she heard of it) Harry learnt how to become an Animagus in less than a year. It was a month longer than what McGonagall had managed, but, as she said, her teacher wasn't as busy as she was.
While he would never admit it, Harry really couldn't find much use for his form, a peregrine falcon (with a dark patch of feathers in a pattern mimicking his famous scar). At the most, it could be used for his amusement. Flying as a falcon was a lot like sailing, he supposed, while the other two methods could be compared to powering through on a speedboat.
Though, nothing beat diving as a falcon.
As Head Boy, Harry had done a lot for the school, going above and beyond in some cases. He had reintroduced many sports and clubs that had not been seen since the days his parents had been students thanks to the war. He also used his massive fortune to procure better brooms, upgrade the dorms of the four houses, and improve upon the equipment used in various subjects. His biggest contribution was towards Astronomy. After getting the blessings of the Board of Governors and the Headmistress, Harry had hired the best enchanters of the world to modify the Astronomy Tower. Once it was done, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be the first school in the entire western world to boast of a magical planetarium, located in what was now called the Sirius Tower. The enchantments used by Rowena Ravenclaw had been cleverly adapted to show the predicted position of the stars on a particular day even during daytime. The public was impressed, while the students and Professor Sinistra were relieved at not having to stay up late at nights.
Once word had gone around about Harry Potter's grand project, other wealthy old students, not wanting to be shown up by a teenager, had also chipped in. As a result, the number of scholarships had increased as had the quality of the Potions ingredients and classroom furniture. Another greenhouse had been installed and filled with many exotic plants with the help of the Herbology club. Plans also were made to increase the number of teaching staff.
Ginny Weasley looked from afar at the boy she had a crush on ever since she had heard of his name.
She knew that her initial infatuation with him had been nothing more than a little girl's crush on a celebrity, comparable in many ways to her mother's obsession with Gilderoy Lockhart.
However, that infatuation had been taken along with her innocence by that thrice cursed diary. No matter how much her parents and family denied it, a part of Ginny had died in that ancient place as her very being was possessed by the darkest Dark Lord.
It had taken her a year to get out of the depression caused by the incidents of her first year. The dementors guarding the castle during her second year hadn't helped any.
After a year, and a couple of miles away from the foul depression inducing guards of Azkaban, Ginny felt reborn. Her very outlook had changed during that time. The new Ginny was more cynical and mature than the old. She did not smile as easily, nor was she content to stand by and do nothing. Her feelings for Harry had also changed. It no longer was the naïve schoolgirl crush of old, rather a deeper feeling of affection towards the boy who braved and slayed a sixty foot monster to save her. That he did it with a sword only added to the feeling.
It had taken another year and a few boyfriends for her to realise that the feeling was actually love. She would not call it infatuation, not after seeing Harry at his worst during her fourth year and still loving him. From her observations of him and the things Ron had (knowingly and unknowingly) told her, she knew all about Harry's good qualities and faults.
And she loved him regardless. There was nothing that she wanted changed. Unfortunately it was too late. She was well aware of the contract that he was bound to and the fact that he was married. After all, she was there for the ceremony along with the twins, Bill, Charlie and Fleur.
But she still loved him, and she suspected that he, at least, was attracted to her. Perhaps there was a way that they could work things out. But first she had quite a bit of research to do. For one, she had noticed that Harry wasn't talking that much to her brother and Hermione anymore. What was worse was that every time he laid eyes on them, there was this underlying veneer of hatred lurking beneath his green eyes (which had inexplicably become even more mesmerising, if that was possible).
It also had not escaped her notice that her mother, Ron and Hermione were not present at the wedding. Ron and Hermione, she could understand, as they had spent the winter hols in Australia trying to find Hermione's Obliviated parents. But her mother's absence was a mystery. Her brothers had gone strangely quiet when she commented on that.
Another thing that worried her was her family. Ron might be too clueless or wrapped up in his own world to notice, but Ginny knew that there was something wrong within the clan. Ever since her father had died, she couldn't help but feel that there was a distinct cooling in the relationship between her mother and Bill and the twins. She really did not know about Charlie, as he was wrapped up in his work in Romania.
Well, she would just have to confront the three. While her first choice would have been Bill, he was out of her reach. So that left the twins. And of the two, she knew that George would crack first.
'Professor, I must protest. I did what I did for the good of the school. None of this is necessary!' Harry complained. It was the last week of school and the headmistress had called him in to her office to break the news about the "great honour" to be bestowed upon him.
Professor McGonagall's lips twitched as she looked at her favourite student. 'True, it isn't necessary. But we, and by that I mean the Board of Governors and I, want to do it.'
'But I don't want a portrait of me in here!' Harry said in a near whine. 'Not that I object to the company of course,' he hastily added to the scowling portraits. 'But I'm not a headmaster, I never was! It would go against tradition.'
'Technically,' a portrait spoke up. 'You were headmaster. After all, you were the holder of the wards from the time Hogwarts had closed after the death of Dumbledore to a little after professor McGonagall was appointed as the new headmaster. Also, one must not forget that professor Dumbledore passed the wards on to you just before he died. When you put all these facts together, one would not be wrong in saying that you were headmaster for a total of three months, if my calculations are correct. While it is a short time, it isn't the shortest in Hogwarts' history. I believe that record goes to a Richard Masters, who was headmaster for six hours. Of course that was just a bit after the Founders' time, as you know.'
'Oh please,' a portrait of a woman spoke up snidely. 'Only you would bring up that time period.'
'And what is that supposed to mean?' the first portrait challenged.
'Headmasters during the Century of the Three Hundred Headmasters do not count!' the woman primly replied, turning her nose up.
Any response to that was cut off by a silencing spell sent their way from the current headmistress. Not that the portraits noticed.
'See,' Professor McGonagall said a tad triumphantly. 'It's settled then. As for the bust … well, that is a requirement for all major donors. Since you have done so much for the school and the country in general, the least we can do is put up a bust and a portrait of one of the best of magical Britain's sons.'
'A bust?!' Harry sputtered. He automatically thought of all the different busts and statues that were littered throughout the castle and the different things students used to do to them. 'No.' he finally said flatly, glaring at the headmistress for good measure.
Professor McGonagall sighed as she regarded the boy in front of her. He really was too humble. 'Harry, I would strongly recommend that you just go with the bust and the portrait.'
'Why?' Harry replied slowly, not liking the matter-of-fact tone the headmistress was using.
'Because that idea was a compromise, born after hours of negotiating with the Board,'
'I don't quite follow.'
'The Board's original decision was to have a house named after you.' Minerva replied steadily with a straight face.
There was a long moment of silence as Harry digested the news. 'I beg your pardon?' He finally replied in disbelief.
'You heard me, Potter,' the headmistress replied briskly as she took out a piece of parchment and a quill.
'You can't do that!' Harry spluttered. 'I – you can't!'
'Actually, we can,' Professor McGonagall replied. 'So, pick two colours and an animal. We won't ask for your family crest as it isn't as simple as that of the other houses so it won't be as uniform.' Looking thoughtful, she added, 'And it would be a bit awkward as well.' Focusing back on him, she gazed at him expectantly, the quill hovering over the parchment.
'Well, I won't allow it.'
'That doesn't make a difference,' Professor McGonagall shot back, putting the quill down.
'Of course it does! I hold the Slytherin and Gryffindor titles!'
'But you are not on the Board of Governors.' Professor McGonagall countered smoothly. 'And you have yet to claim your Wizengamot seat. So,' she picked the quill back up. 'What qualities do you cherish the most? We will have to inform the Sorting Hat so it knows what to look for. And the Hat would also appreciate having some time to work in the new fifth house of Hogwarts into his yearly song.'
Student and teacher stared at each other for a long moment.
'If you don't pick a colour and animal, Potter, I will.' Professor McGonagall threatened. 'And it probably will be a fluffy kitten.' She added with a smirk that Harry thought was purely evil.
Harry took a long horror-filled moment to digest this. Finally, he sighed in defeat. 'Fine, I agree to the portrait.'
'And the bust?' Harry could not help but note the hint of triumph in the old woman's voice.
Harry gave another sigh, 'and the bust.' He gave a dark look at the still (albeit silently) bickering portraits. 'My portrait-self is so going to hate me.'
Looking at the portraits still arguing, Professor McGonagall made a sympathetic noise. 'They can be a handful sometimes.' She conceded.
'Well, off with you then, Potter. I shall call you when the artist reaches the school.'
Watching the boy leave, Minerva McGonagall reclined back in her seat, allowing a satisfied smile to break out. She always prided herself in getting her way. And she did not consider this a bad thing, not here at least. After all, it wasn't doing the boy any harm…
2010
Harry's eyes jerked open. Blinking, he slowly took in his surroundings. The glass in his hand was long gone, no doubt removed by an elf once he had fallen asleep.
He blearily turned his attention to the thing he had immediately noticed as soon as he woke up. The sleeping form of a small boy curled up on his lap.
Looking at the untidy mop of dark blue hair brought memories of the boy's birth back to his mind.
After a long and perilous journey, Edmund "Teddy" Harry Potter-Black took his first breath of free air in St. Mungo's on the twentieth of September two thousand and four. However, the Healers had kept him under observation for a month before releasing him to the Greengrasses who had enthusiastically insisted on taking care of the boy till Harry and Daphne were ready.
Other than being restless on full moon nights, the baby showed no signs of his biological father's affliction. Instead, he had inherited his mother's inborn trait, something he was quite happy to show off to all around the minute he was born. They had quickly figured out that the new-born changed his hair colour instinctively to match the brightest colour that caught his attention. Harry still smiled when he thought of the games they used to play in getting Teddy to change his hair into as outrageous a colour as possible.
By the end of December, a week or so after they had been married, Daphne had become pregnant. While she had managed to finish her exams without any difficulty, a problem arose near the end of the year when Daphne insisted that they continue as planned and go on the customary world tour.
Naturally, Harry and his new in-laws were against the idea, thinking that Daphne was insane for considering the possibility. But the girl put her foot down. Through a masterful application of cajoling, emotional blackmail, threats, tears and stubbornness, the Earl Potter found himself on his way to the continent to next to his wife and the infant Baron Black as they began their tour with no idea as to how it had come to that.
Accompanied by Neville, and Susan (unfortunately, Hannah had to repeat a year due to being pulled out by her father), the young family started their journey. A few weeks in, the group split when the blond boy decided to stay in Austria for a while longer with his steady girlfriend. Now left alone, the young couple took great pleasure in exploring the world, each other and the joys of parenting.
Encouraged by his wife, Harry enthusiastically took to raising Edmund and later on, James Sirius Potter-Black, the Earl Slytherin (born on the twentieth of August two thousand and five) as they visited many exotic locales.
Till this day, Harry had no idea how he had managed to survive first Daphne's pregnancy, and later, raising two rambunctious boys while travelling. It had taken them two years (a year extra than scheduled) for the Earl and Countess to come back home with a two year old Baron Black and one year old Earl Slytherin. They had retraced Salazar's journey across the world, and had learnt many esoteric fields of magic as well as a few languages. Chief among that was the Parsel magic of the nomadic Indians (though it was now taught in a small exclusive school only for Parselmouths). When the boys grew older, Harry was planning on taking them through the same ritual to give them the ability to cast Parsel magic. The boys would have the additional advantage as their father knew enough of Parsel magic to teach them himself.
In addition to Parseltongue (something both his sons knew instinctively) Harry now knew Mermish, and Gobbledegook along with German, French, Sanskrit (the script of which he found was derived from Parseltongue) and some rudimentary Cantonese.
As soon as he returned, Harry took his seat at the Wizengamot, representing all the three hereditary titles of Potter, Black and Slytherin. Had he combined the families, like what had been done with the Potter and Gryffindor titles, the number of votes he would have as a result would be limited to one even if the number of seats were plural. But this way, he would have three, one as the Earl Potter, and the other two as proxies for Earl Slytherin and Baron Black. His heir apparent, James, would give the Slytherin title to his own son after he became the next Earl Potter (around the time Harry would be able to claim the Gryffindor title) while the heir presumptive, Edmund would keep his title of Baron Black to pass onto his own child.
Thanks to Flamel's influence, and his own popularity, barely a year had passed before Harry was the Chief Warlock.
One of the many perks of that job was getting front row seats to Snape's execution, and being the person to tell Peter Pettigrew that he would soon follow the greasy man's footsteps.
Carefully placing the sleeping five year old on the bed in his room, Harry looked at the boy fondly. Edmund had the same heart-shaped face of his mother. At the same time, he was generally a quiet boy, preferring to read more than anything else. Very much like his biological father was said to be (who was missing and presumed dead). James, on the other hand, was more outdoorsy. With a face that was a perfect blend of Harry's and Daphne's, James was just as unusual looking as his older brother. What made the four year old boy unique were his eyes. His left eye was as blue as Daphne's while his right was a stunning green resembling his father's. The Healers told Harry and Daphne that it was a rare genetic condition called heterochromia iridum. They assured the parents that it was not congenital, but resulting from mosaicism where the body has two or more cell populations with different genotypes.
While the boys were close, they also were incredibly competitive. Not a day went by without the two fighting each other. At first, Harry was quite befuddled with the whole thing. Surely brothers don't fight.
Daphne had been quick to set him straight. Being an older sister, she understood and knew of sibling rivalry. Cyrus Greengrass had also shared stories of the numerous childhood fights he had with his late elder brother, further reassuring his son-in-law.
It did not make parenting easier, though. Harry had lost track of the number of times he had to play referee as both squabbled over who pinched whom first or whose turn was it to play with which toy.
Moving towards his own room, he passed by Mark's room. The two had a friendly relationship over the years as Harry had given the boy a home. Now eighteen, Mark had been accepted as an Auror trainee (helped by Harry). Once he had enough money, Mark planned on moving to a home of his own and settling down. He had solemnly refused when Harry had offered him one of the family properties, stating that Harry had done and was doing more than enough for him not only by housing him, but paying for his education as well.
As he reached the master bedroom, Harry ruminated that aside from Colin Creevey (who, Harry was "surprised" to find out, was an upcoming professional photographer) Mark was his number one fan. He knew that the younger man practically worshiped Harry, and would do anything asked of by him. Harry only hoped that he did not disappoint Mark.
Slipping into the spacious master bedroom, Harry slowly undressed as he made his way to the bed and his sleeping wife. Despite having given birth to a child and being two weeks pregnant, Daphne still retained a gorgeous slim figure.
His wife sleepily hummed as Harry slipped inside next to her, rubbing his bare chest against her body. Turning around, she draped an arm around him, snuggling in deeper.
'Finished with your work?' she murmured.
Harry only hummed in reply as he ran his hand down her back, feeling the warm flesh through the silky material of her negligee.
'Sorry I couldn't meet you earlier today … how was work?'
'It was alright,' Harry softly replied. 'I met Granger.' He said after a pause.
That sentence was enough to get her to open her eyes. 'Oh?' she asked, more alert and interested. 'And?'
Harry chuckled lowly. 'Apparently she's the new head of the Dee Em El Ee.' He frowned, 'That is a bit sudden. The last I checked, she was only a regular barrister.' His expression clearing, he continued in an eager voice. 'She had her knickers in a right twist once she found out about the new act. It made for a hell of an introduction.'
Daphne moaned as his hands kneaded her backside. 'I heard about something else you said.' She commented.
'Ah, the Ginny and Gabrielle debacle,' Harry said dismissively. 'You should have seen her face when I mentioned that! She was fit to be tied.' He started trailing kisses down her neck.
Even though her eyes fluttered shut at Harry's ministrations, Daphne continued speaking. 'So what have you thought about their proposals?'
'There is only one person for me, and that is you, Daphne.' Harry growled possessively as he rolled on top of her.
Daphne moaned with passion at the sound of his voice. She gasped when she felt the heat of his length pressing against her. No matter how many times he did it, she was always surprised at the way he managed to get his and her clothes off with just a thought. It always took her time to realise that she was starkers. Ever since they had been married, she had noticed an absence of a lifeline in her palms. She did not know if that meant immortality, even after Harry had explained the whole "Master of Death" thing to her when he had fully come clean to her the day after he had recovered from his fight with Voldemort, but she would not mind an eternity of this. As Harry touched a rather sensitive spot, she wondered what new exciting thing Harry was planning on trying.
Harry smirked as he felt her respond. Unknown to his wife, he had bought the original copies of the magical version of the Kama Sutra when they were in India. Now occupying a secret place in his study, Harry used those to add in some more variety to their time in bed and further enhance his expertise.
Just then Daphne remembered something.
'Today is a full moon,' she gasped.
Harry, whose head was somewhere near her bellybutton, peeked out from the blanket. 'So?' he asked.
'Teddy,' she hissed as if that explained everything, which it should, she thought irritably.
Harry snorted. 'Please, I found him fast asleep on my lap when I woke up in my study. I even put him to bed. He'll probably sleep through full moon nights from tonight.'
Daphne raised an eyebrow. 'I recall you saying the same thing the last time.' She said flatly.
'This time it will be different,' Harry protested. Without waiting for her reply, he disappeared back under the covers.
'And that was the second line you said the last time, word for word.' Daphne practically purred. Words fled her mind as she succumbed to Harry's expertise and her passion.
The couple froze when they heard the patter of small feet on the marble floor outside their room.
With a muted curse, Harry rolled off Daphne, magically restoring her negligee and his boxers as he did so.
Not a moment later, the door opened and a small form shuffled in. With eyes still closed, Edmund crawled onto the bed between his parents. Snuggling in, he cuddled up to Harry and promptly started snoring softly, his right thumb drifting to his mouth.
'Daddy's little boy,' Daphne softly teased, a smirk on her face. 'He just can't get to sleep on full moon nights without his father. It's almost as if he is magnetically attracted to you. Did you see how he just wandered in without opening his eyes?'
Harry snorted. 'I don't know what he's going to do when he has to go to school.' Gently, he removed the thumb. 'And I don't know what you mean by "daddy's little boy".' He huffed. 'After all, who does he go to half the time after he has done something bad, hoping to get away with it?'
With a snort, Daphne turned away. 'Go to sleep.'
Her parting comment made Harry smirk as he settled in. He knew for a fact that Daphne was a pushover as far as the boys were concerned. And the children knew it too.
Pushover he thought.
Suddenly he felt her palm impact his shoulder.
'Ow, what'd I do?' he complained, rubbing his stinging shoulder.
'I know what you were thinking,' she replied.
'… Fair enough,'
The sun dawned on the large mansion and expansive grounds, bathing three figures in its light.
Harry had never stopped his morning routine from his sixth year despite having no reason to do so. He had even added weights to his routine ever since he had turned eighteen.
Edmund added an extra dimension to those workouts ever since his fifth birthday. James, unwilling to be left out, had joined in the next day. They had enough energy to be up every morning at the crack of dawn like their father without being woken up. Jogging was no longer a chore done to keep fit for Harry, but a game of running and catching as the screaming kids darted to and fro, sometimes demanding piggyback rides. Harry had also shamelessly used the boys as weights, not that they minded. They found it thrilling to be lifted by their father as he exercised his biceps and sitting on Harry's back as he did push ups.
At least it ensured that they went to sleep on time.
Harry was quite thankful that he had learnt swimming properly by age twenty from his father in-law. This way, he could pass on the same skill to his children in the indoor heated pool he was planning on installing.
Walking into the kitchen after the two still excited children, a sweaty Harry greeted his wife with a kiss. Sending the boys to their rooms to have their bath, he dragged Daphne with him to do the same, bringing up a topic that had been touched upon last night.
Later, with the children occupied by their governess and lessons, Daphne brought up another subject from last night.
'So, what do you have to say about Ginny Weasley and that Delacour girl?'
Harry grimaced as he recalled the separate marriage proposals. Ginny was the first to make her move. Near the end of his seventh year, the girl had approached them both with a passionate declaration of love for Harry.
Done with her declaration, Ginny then proposed a union in marriage, mentioning an old law that was still in effect even if it had not been used for nearly two hundred years. She did not make it official, as traditionally only the head of a family could do so, but stated orally that she loved Harry enough that she was actually willing to share.
Harry's first instinct was to say no. He still felt the thrill of fire that coursed through his veins whenever he looked at the girl (it was partly the reason why he had been avoiding her like the plague throughout the year). He had got himself checked for enchantments and potions so many times over the year that even Madam Pomfrey, an overprotective paranoid person herself, had become fed up.
But before he could vocalise it, Daphne replied that they would think about it.
She later explained to her befuddled husband that there were some advantages to taking the redhead as a second wife. She then went on to say that the final decision was Harry's and after thinking on it for a few years, he would come to the right answer.
Harry was confused. He knew by then that he loved Daphne. His love for her was clear, beautiful and like an eternal cold fire that steadily burned within him every time he saw her. But then there was Ginny. His feelings for her were intense, hotter than a summer afternoon in the Sahara. It scared him.
Damn woman! He personally blamed the red hair. It was so fiery, so long and soft looking that he just wanted to run his hands –.
Damn woman.
'Like I said last night,' Harry said with passion burning in his eyes. 'You are the only one for me.'
Face flushing, Daphne kissed her husband. 'You are sweet,' she said with feeling. 'But what did you say all that to Granger for?'
'Oh that,' Harry said with a sneaky grin. 'I only mentioned the possibility of marrying the two. I never said that it would happen.'
Seeing her raise an eyebrow, he continued. 'Knowing her, now that she knows of an archaic law that hasn't been removed, amended or otherwise edited, she will make it her priority to change that law. Something that I am quite sure she will fail at. In other words, she will be too distracted by that to concentrate on the Magical Child Protection Act.'
'If you are sure, dear,' Daphne conceded. 'But what about the Delacours?'
Harry sighed. The Delacours were a complication. Fleur and Gabrielle's father, Jean-Sebastian, was a powerful man in France with an ancestry and connexions that fit very well with Harry's plans. In order to secure an alliance with Harry, and by extension, Great Britain, the man had proposed his youngest daughter's hand in marriage, stating the same law which was also in effect in France.
At least the French and English agreed on one thing.
To further compound things, Gabrielle herself wasn't averse to the idea of being engaged to an older man. And that age difference wasn't as great as Harry thought initially. What he had taken to be a nine year old girl in his fourth year was actually twelve years old. He was lucky that he had not mentioned it aloud. He suspected that Gabrielle would have been quite upset if he had.
This alliance was something that Daphne had no problems about and actually encouraged. The problem was that Harry couldn't accept one proposal and decline the other. It just did not feel right.
Daphne mentally rolled her eyes. It was sweet that her husband only cared about her and wasn't willing to marry another woman. Truth be told, she felt the same. There was no way that she was going to let him be with another woman. He was hers. If she could get away with it, she would even have written her name on his penis.
But at the same time, an alliance with the Delacours would help her husband's and Flamel's plans, even though both men had not mentioned it to her.
She also knew that the Weasley girl had intense feelings towards Harry. And it wasn't something that she felt threatened by. She fully intended on making sure that they would remain tertiary wives. It was the reason why she had made it a point to get to know the both of them. It would help manipulate them better.
'I wouldn't mind if you go with it,' she said with a smile. 'I know that marrying Gabrielle would help your plans, and also that you feel a certain attraction to Ginny. But most importantly, I know that you love me as much, if not more, than how much I love you.' She gave him a look conveying her support, 'I am behind you all the way.'
Harry looked at her for a long time. 'Very well,' he finally said. 'I will agree. But I will make it clear that it is to happen with the consent of both women, and we shall only marry much later. Probably when I am –' he shrugged. 'Thirty.'
Daphne hummed in response. In magical society, a majority of the couples married in their late thirties to early forties. It was true that the past few generations married young, but that was mainly because of the wars.
Mortality does wonders in speeding up the time in which you think about wanting a family.
Kissing Daphne goodbye, Harry stepped into the large fireplace in their drawing room. In a flash of emerald fire, he was off. There was an important meeting that would help further the cause of the Wizarding World.
Hermione Granger-Weasley Apparated to the backyard of The Burrow, exhausted. The first day of her new job had been extremely stressful.
Only recently promoted to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (and that too in a very short time) she had received a nasty surprise in the form of a new law that was to be passed. The Harry Potter Magical Child Protection Act had truly shocked her to her core. She knew they had slowly started drifting apart. She did not know when exactly that had started. It was almost as if one day they were the best of friends and the next, complete strangers.
'Hey there, beautiful,'
Hermione only sent a wan smile to her husband in reply to his greeting as she ungracefully fell into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
'Rough day?' Ron said as he kneaded her shoulders.
'You have no idea,' Hermione groaned as she closed her eyes and gave into her husband's ministrations.
'I made you your favourite in celebration of your new job,' Ron levitated a plate in front of her without moving from his spot behind her, his left hand still massaging a shoulder.
'Chicken cordon bleu,' he proclaimed grandly as she removed the cloche.
'Thanks,' Hermione said as she dug in.
Ron's culinary skills had been quite a surprise. Hermione knew for a fact that he was quite a … voracious … eater. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that Ron actually had a passion for food beyond eating. He had taken to cooking like duck to water.
It had taken just one Muggle show on cooking while they were in Australia … and the rest, as the expression goes, was history.
She still remembered the day that she had heard about Voldemort's defeat.
A scant day after she had returned home from Hogwarts, she had erased her parents' memories, sending them off to Australia. To further ensure that they could not be traced, she had also got them to sell their private dental practice, liquidate all their assets, and transfer everything to a bank in Perth.
Once they were gone, she packed all her possessions, and moved to the Burrow, where she was welcomed with open arms. She did not feel guilty about keeping some of her parents' money, the times were dire, and the Weasleys weren't exactly well off.
No sooner had she moved in, that the situation started to get steadily worse. A week after she had relocated to the Burrow, the Death Eaters had terrorised the residents of Diagon Alley. Worse than the property loss and extensive damage done was the loss of three people who had stayed back to help the fleeing wizards and witches. All of them had been Order members, and of them was the loss of Arthur Weasley.
His death had seemed to hit the family hard. Mrs Weasley had been unable to stop crying for three days, while Bill and the twins had become closed off. Over time, the three Weasleys had become just as distant as Percy (who still was yet to contact the family).
Then the unthinkable happened. One night, two days after Mr Weasley's death, Mad Eye Moody had come to the Burrow with grave news: Harry had disappeared from his relatives' house.
Despite the Muggles all having been arrested by the Ministry, it was decided that Harry would stay in Privet Drive under guard till he turned seventeen. An analysis of the property showed that the wards Dumbledore had made still held. It would give them enough time to fully upgrade the Burrow's defences.
So it was shocking that Harry Potter had simply vanished without a trace. Hermione remembered sitting up the whole night as she tried not to think of the number of terrible things that could have happened to her friend as Moody and the rest went around in search of the boy.
They had finally fallen asleep in the living room at around two in the morning.
When they next woke up, it was to a major surprise. The occupants of the household did not know what to say to the headlines on the Daily Prophet that claimed that the Dark Lord Voldemort was finally defeated, and that too at the hands of the person who they all had been worrying about.
Any doubts they had on the veracity of the headlines were dashed by the picture of a tired looking but still triumphant Harry posing next to what could only be Voldemort's corpse strapped to a table.
The feelings of joy and relief that succeeded the initial shock and incredulity of what they had seen did not last long and were soon replaced by indignation, anger and a bit of hurt. Why hadn't Harry told them anything? And how had he managed to get all the Horcruxes so quickly?
But Harry wasn't there to answer any questions. After defeating Voldemort, the teen had disappeared from public eye, to a house that belonged to the Potter family, saying that he was resting.
The Weasleys didn't have much time to worry about that as Bill's wedding was scheduled to happen in the next twenty four hours. They were extremely fortunate to have booked everything before the announcement of Voldemort's death as it meant that they had managed to make a killing of a deal for things that would normally be far above their budget. Voldemort's death also meant that everyone in the guest list had decided to attend, and they brought their friends as well.
Hermione and Ron couldn't find Harry anywhere on that day. Not that they were too surprised or worried by that fact as the place was quite jam-packed. Knowing Harry's aversion to the public eye, they were sure that he had come under disguise.
Feeling a sense of urgency, Hermione convinced Ron to go to Australia the next day to retrieve her parents and restore their memories. It was very fortunate that nobody had yet bought the house, so it could be taken off the market.
But they were unsuccessful in locating her parents in the island continent. Hermione had searched till the twenty third of August before Ron had finally convinced her to come back and finish her final year of school.
They had tried again during the winter hols. Nothing had changed success wise, but Ron and Hermione did manage to become closer. They had finally realised and admitted their feelings for each other. From there, their relationship developed quickly. It wasn't long before the both of them had lost their virginity to each other.
But that was the last time they got the opportunity to go to Australia.
Hermione realised that she was pregnant on the first week back at school. Cursing herself at her stupidity, she told Ron the news, fearing his rejection. She was thus overjoyed to find Ron being supportive instead of scornful or afraid.
Bathed by the light of the full moon on top of the North Tower, the redhead had proposed to his steady girlfriend and lover of six months.
They had a simple private ceremony in The Burrow when school let out for Easter. Even though the family didn't seem particularly enthused about their union, the couple was too happy to notice.
Hermione gave birth to Rose Weasley on the twenty-fifth of September two thousand and five, six days after her own birthday.
As she had spent the last of the money of her parents, and since there was no breadwinner, things at the Burrow were tight. Hermione was forced to sell her parents' large house. It was too impractical to move into the Muggle neighbourhood as the family she was marrying into would stick out like a sore thumb as they not only were unfamiliar with Muggles, but weren't as affluent as the rest of the neighbourhood. Besides, she had seen enough of Ron's jealousy at Harry to care for having it directed at her.
Thankfully, Fred and George had volunteered to pay for Ginny's education, easing things up significantly.
Hermione's N.E.W.T. marks were great enough for her to gain an internship at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
She had worked really long hours for a year before being given full employment.
But at the same time, things were still tight. While Fred and George had volunteered to help with Ginny, offering the girl the opportunity for higher education (which she had taken and gone to France – much to Hermione's jealousy) and lightening the financial strain, there was still the issue of taking care of an infant, and an old woman. Molly Weasley might be middle-aged as far as magical standards were concerned, but the loss of her husband seemed to have aged her.
After Arthur's death, the woman had lost a lot of weight. And while Hermione loved her mother-in-law deeply, she found that living with the woman every single day was quite a different matter. Only a month after her marriage did she realise that Molly Weasley could be quite a bossy woman.
Molly Weasley also had a very old fashioned view on things. This basically meant that she was not pleased to learn that her son was the homemaker while her daughter-in-law was the breadwinner. Hermione had gone blue in the face trying to explain to the obstinate woman that it was not possible for Ron to get a decent job as his marks weren't exactly up to par. He did not have enough N.E.W.T.s to gain a position in the Auror Corps, and his skills on a broom while good weren't professional quality. Even the Chudley Cannons had rejected him, and that was saying something!
Hermione was quite thankful that Ron had taken a liking to cooking, keeping the house and raising their little daughter. She shuddered to think what life would be like if he wasn't. She already had to fight one battle with her mother-in-law. She would not be able to deal with Ron as well.
'How's Rose?' She finally said once she finished her meal.
Sitting opposite her, Ron smiled contentedly. 'She's great. Takes after her mother, she does. It's scary how fast she learns things.' Taking out his wand, he floated the dishes out to the sink. 'So how was your first day as the new head?'
Hermione bristled at the reminder of the day.
'You won't believe what just happened.' She growled. Launching into a description of her day, she explained the new act that was passed by the Wizengamot, its name and who had sponsored it.
'That is …' Ron paused for a long time. 'Wow,' he breathed; gobsmacked. 'I cannot believe that Harry would do that.'
Hermione snorted. 'Well, he did. He showed me the memory of the whole thing. You should have seen the smug grin on his face.'
'Harry has really changed,' Ron said as they moved towards their room. They had claimed Fred and George's old room for theirs as it was the biggest in the house. It had taken months, but the stench of gunpowder had finally been removed.
'The things he said to me, you won't believe, Ron!' Hermione said indignantly. 'Can you believe that he actually said that I deliberately erased my parents' memories because they were abusing me? He used that as justification for the Act!'
Ron's ears went red at this. 'How dare he … Wait till I get my hands on him!' he growled.
'Ronald Bilius Weasley, you will do no such thing!' Hermione reprimanded, her voice coming out in a hiss because of the lateness of the night.
'Alright, alright,' Ron raised his hands in surrender. 'Jeez. I wonder why he became so … hateful towards us, though,' he added thoughtfully. 'I'd expect something like that from Malfoy, you know.'
'I think I know why,' Hermione replied. 'At least, I think I know why he was sort of ignoring us all throughout seventh year.' Steeling herself, she continued in a hollow voice. 'He found out about Dumbledore paying us.'
'What?' Ron said sharply.
'Yes,' Hermione said in a small voice. 'Apparently, he's known for a really long time, but didn't say a thing.'
'But – but, we gave that money back.' Ron stuttered.
'Still, doesn't change the fact that we took it in the first place.' Hermione said. 'Besides, I doubt he knows about that fact. And I doubt that he will be willing to listen to us if we even told him.'
Changing into her pyjamas, Hermione got into bed, taking out a tube of lotion, squeezing some onto her palms and rubbing it on her arms vigorously as Ron himself got ready for bed. Slipping in, he extinguished the lights, plunging the room into darkness.
As she lay down, Hermione turned to her husband, remembering something, her indignation returning. 'Can you believe that the prick actually claimed that we never invited him to our wedding?' She whispered heatedly.
Hearing Ron snort next to her, she huffed. 'How dare he accuse us of not sending him an invitation? I get that he is angry at us for taking Dumbledore's money, but to accuse us of that … I wonder what he would call that card you sent to him then.'
An uncomfortable silence met her proclamation. Picking up on it, she sat back up and looked at her husband with narrowed eyes and asked, 'What is it?'
'Um,' she could hear Ron gulp noisily. 'I thought you had sent the invitation.'
It took Hermione a very long moment for Ron's words to register in her brain. With a mental groan she sank back into the bed.
Suddenly she felt something snaking up around her.
Slapping the arm, she hissed, 'Not now, dammit!'
'But, I thought that we were going to celebrate…' Ron whined.
'I've got a headache. Besides, I have to get up early tomorrow. Or didn't you get the memo?'
With this snide remark, Hermione turned around and closed her eyes, ignoring the soft groan of frustration coming from behind her.
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