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Chapter Text

Now there's a woman who'd make a great wife, Harry thought, glancing idly at Daphne Greengrass.

She was tall, attractive, and single. She carried herself regally, was intelligent in a quiet sort of way, and had impeccable manners. She'd already been notable at Hogwarts, but in the few years since, had blossomed into a veritable beauty.

Harry was quite the eligible bachelor himself, but his busy work schedule kept him serially single, and the recent chain of marriages between several of his friends kept him serially desperate. He wanted to settle down himself one day, but he knew for now that was an impossibility.

He sighed and returned his attention to the workplace gift exchange event.

"Next up is…Christopher Leeman!"

His boss, the head of the DMLE, waved the little piece of parchment he had just drawn from a Santa hat around in the air, and the young auror walked up to fetch his gift. There was a table full of them, and Christopher selected one of the larger ones.

"I'll take this one!" he declared.

Everyone urged him to open it in front of them, curious what was in such a large box, and he carefully transferred the heavy package from the table to the floor. He ripped the wrapping paper off, and a professional set of quidditch balls was revealed.

There was a curious murmur around the room – it was a nice gift, but one that was realistically a little too expensive for a casual workplace gift exchange.

"Ah…" The head of the DMLE scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "And who's this one from?"

From the back of the room, Daphne Greengrass raised her hand.

"It's mine, sir."

"And…you're okay with giving this away?"

"Of course, sir. That's why I bought it."

The man stared at her for only a second longer before putting his hands together and smiling.

"Well, I guess it's your lucky day, eh?" he said, slapping Christopher gently on the back. The auror nodded enthusiastically and shot Daphne both a blush and a grateful smile. He played in an amateur quidditch league, and the gift likely couldn't have gone to a better person. Christopher magically shrunk the case of balls and brought it back with him to his seat, still shooting Daphne furtive glances.

Meanwhile, the head of the DMLE started fishing around in the hat again. He smiled as he read the next name from the parchment.

"What luck!" he said. "Next up is Daphne Greengrass!"

Everyone clapped cordially as the young woman stood from her seat and approached the table of gifts. She wasn't an auror, but worked in another department of the DMLE that Harry wasn't too familiar with. He'd seen her around the office occasionally, but wasn't sure exactly what she did.

"On the back of the gift you just gave, let's hope you get something good yourself, eh?"

Daphne nodded politely to the boss and approached the table. She scouted around for a second before selecting the smallest box she could find, which Harry immediately recognized as his own. He had completely forgotten about this event until the last minute, and had incidentally asked Kreacher to find him an appropriate gift only a few hours ago. He was rather disappointed by how small the package ended up being, but hadn't had time to go find another. He just hoped whatever it was didn't make Harry seem like a miser.

"Are you sure that's the one you want?"

Daphne nodded again. "My apartment is quite small, after all."

There were a few laughs from around the room even though she didn't seem to be joking, and she daintily undid the ribbon on the tiny box. Everyone awaited the reveal with bated breath, wondering both what was in such a minuscule package and what the girl would get in return for her generous gift.

Daphne froze as she peered inside.

"What is it?" someone called from the back of the room. "I can't see!"

Slowly, Daphne reached into the box and pulled a small object out.

"It's an engagement ring," she said, and the beautiful diamond atop it sparkled in the dim light of the room.

Immediately, several men and women started squealing in delight. Many people glanced around suspiciously, including the head, until eventually he seemed to catch on and spoke up with a sly smile.

"And who's this gift from?" he asked.

Harry was deeply ashamed that he had been the cause of this little disturbance, but he also didn't want the blame to fall on anyone else. It would be awkward, but he was sure everyone would understand if he explained it was just an inappropriate prank from his old house elf.

"That's mine, sir," he said, standing from his seat.

Daphne's eyes widened as she turned to look at Harry, and there was suddenly a lot more squealing. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and Harry realized he might have chosen the wrong words to speak first.

"I…I don't know what to say," Daphne murmured, looking between Harry and the ring. The room was quiet with anticipation, and every single eye was on them.

"You don't have to say anything." Harry's palms were starting to sweat as he wondered where to begin. "Um, the thing is…"

"Yes."

Harry blinked, and so did everyone else in the room.

"What?"

"Yes," Daphne repeated. "I do."

Harry blinked again. Surely he was mishearing her.

"You what?"

"I'll marry you."

For a brief, happy moment, Harry thought she was joking. But her eyes were set and determined, and her conviction was clear as she placed the ring on her finger.

The room suddenly burst into thunderous applause, cheers, hoots and hollers as Daphne raised her bejeweled hand into the air. Several girls rushed up to her to offer their congratulations, and Harry heard several directed at himself as well. His stomach slowly sank as he realized what a few seconds of hesitation had just cost him.

"Good on you, lad," an older auror said from behind him, giving him a slap on the back. "But what were you going to do if the lass picked a different box?"

An alternate reality flashed past Harry's eyes. One where Christopher had picked the smallest box instead of the largest one. Would that have been better, or worse? He wasn't sure.

"I don't know…" he admitted honestly.

At the end of several tumultuous minutes in which both Harry and Daphne were separately congratulated by everyone in the room, the girl was finally free to return her gaze to Harry. Her cheeks reddened again, and she walked gracefully over towards him.

"Good evening, Harry," she said.

"Er…hi."

A part of him was still desperately clinging onto the hope that she was joking. They had never exchanged more than a sentence between them, and hardly knew anything about each other except for their names. His apparent 'proposal' was no more than her coincidentally opening a box which literally anyone at the party could have picked. He wasn't sure in what world that sequence of events could've caused such a colossal misunderstanding, but he supposed he was living in it.

"Listen, Daphne…" he began. He needed to tell her the truth before this situation got any messier. "I-"

"I never thought anyone would be willing to love me," she said, her eyes open and honest. "I know we don't know each other too well yet, but I'm looking forward to getting to know you throughout the rest of my life. I know you'll treat me well, and I promise to extend the same kindness towards you."

"Er…right."

The girl was dead serious, and Harry knew this was his last opportunity to jump ship; possibly forever.

"Are you okay, Harry? Your face is getting red."

On the other hand, she really was quite pretty from up close.

"I'm fine," he replied. "Just…thinking."

As he thought about it, Harry realized he had been lamenting his lack of a wife – and Daphne's suitability for such a position – only minutes before. Maybe this disaster was actually an opportunity? The girl was pretty, kind, and intelligent. More importantly, she actually seemed to like him. What more could he possibly want?

"Thinking about what?" she asked.

Harry made his decision and stood.

"Thinking about all the possibilities of our future together,” he said. “Are you free tonight so we can discuss them?"

The girl's eyes widened, and her smile slowly grew to match it. It was a radiant thing to witness, and Harry felt his hesitations about marrying a girl he hardly knew melt away.

"Yes!" she replied excitedly. "I can't wait!" A moment later, she blinked and cast another glance at the gift table. "Oh. But you haven't gotten your present yet..."

Harry signalled to his boss that he was going to leave early, and the man nodded knowingly. He smiled at Harry and gave him a discreet thumbs up.

"I think I already got mine," Harry replied.

Chapter Text

"So, did we have to do this over ice cream?" Harry asked.

Daphne froze with her tongue halfway to her cone. She slowly turned to look at him, horror and embarrassment written plainly on her features.

"Oh…" she replied meekly. "Do you not like ice cream…?"

"No, I do, but you're dripping all over the registration form."

Her face fell and she glanced down at the marriage declaration that was now covered in melted ice cream. Harry had been watching it drip for several minutes now, but was too engrossed in watching the girl's uniquely glacial way of eating to mention it; she took tiny licks at the cone as the ice cream melted down her fingers, and then took tiny, panicked licks at her fingers as the ice cream melted further down the cone.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, pulling her hand away so that it was no longer dripping on the marriage form. "I'm sorry. I can be a bit clumsy sometimes…"

"Oh, it's okay. I don't mind."

Harry hadn't quite expected this kind of thing from the normally dignified Daphne, but that didn't mean he was bothered. If anything, it made her seem a little more approachable, and it was cute.

"Thanks for being patient with me," she said, smiling up at him. She used her hand to wipe the splotchy ice cream off the form and succeeded only in smearing it further. Her smile faltered, and she looked back up at him timidly. "I'm sorry if I'm messing this up, I'm sort of nervous…"

"Oh. Well we can hold off on the marriage, if you wa-"

"No!" Her eyes widened, and he noticed for the first time how blue they were. "Not unless you want to, I mean. But I don't want to…unless you want to. In which case I still won't want to, but I will want to because you want to."

Harry blinked. "Okay? Well, I don't want to."

"Oh, good!" Daphne smiled again, and she looked genuinely relieved. "Because I don't want to either."

"Yeah…I got that."

Harry would be lying if he said his initial surprise about Daphne's personality wasn't deepening. The girl radiated confidence and competence whenever he saw her in the office, and the general attitude of reverence towards her was echoed by many of his coworkers. He'd originally thought she seemed like a very composed person, but was now starting to suspect she spent more time cultivating work skills than social skills. For whatever reason though, this only endeared him towards the girl more.

"I'm a bit nervous too," he admitted, hoping it would help Daphne relax some. "I mean, this whole thing was pretty sudden – one minute we were at a staff party, and now we're filling out marriage forms…I'd have been more surprised if you didn't have any reservations about all this."

"Oh, I don't have any reservations," Daphne replied, and Harry choked on the water he had just taken a sip from. "I assume you spent a lot of time coming to this decision, and I trust you if you think we'll make a good match. I'm really surprised and flattered you fell in love with me in the first place, and I'm sure I'll come to love you as well. I'm already starting to feel it a bit right now – ever since I told you I was clumsy and you said you didn't mind."

Harry nodded silently as he recovered from choking. Both because her honest words caught him off guard, and because he really didn't want to tell her that he hadn't had any intention of proposing to her until he accidentally did.

"No, what I'm actually worried about is that I'm dreaming," Daphne continued, getting a far off look in her eyes as she stared at the table. "That someone's going to pinch me and I'll wake up alone, or that you'll suddenly start laughing and tell me this whole thing was a prank or a joke…"

"Nope," Harry said, knowing this would be a severely inappropriate time to be honest. "Definitely not a joke. And you're not dreaming unless my entire existence is just a figment of your imagination."

She glanced up worriedly. "You think that's a possibility?"

"Er…not really. It was just a joke."

Her face fell dramatically. "So it was a joke after all?"

"What?" Harry stared at her for a second. "To be clear, me being a figment of your imagination was the joke, not the proposal."

"Oh, phew," she said. "I thought it was the other way around…"

Daphne's face brightened again, and Harry smiled along with it. Density aside, the way she showed every single emotion on her face was sort of cute.

"So, should we finish filling out that form and get it down to the notary before they close?" he asked.

"Yes!" she replied.

"Great. I'll fill in my half while you finish your ice cream and get…uh, cleaned up."

Daphne stared puzzled at him for a moment before glancing back down at her ice cream. When she pulled it away from the marriage form, she had started holding it directly over herself instead, and since then it had melted all over her lap.

"Ah!" she screamed, her face flushing red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry!"

Chapter Text

Harry tried not to let the surprise show on his face as Daphne led him through the alleyways to her apartment building. To say they were on the wrong side of town was an understatement; they were on the wrong side of the world.

"So…you live around here?" Harry asked probingly.

"Yep! My place is just up ahead."

In the distance, a single gunshot sounded, and a murder of crows fled into the sky. Harry was a trained auror, and he felt kind of unsafe here.

Daphne, on the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed. She smiled placidly at Harry as they turned a corner and nearly ran headfirst into a group of tweakers, and then casually maneuvered around them and to the other side of the street.

"We're here," she declared, pointing at a connected row of one story shacks off the sidewalk.

She fumbled around in her purse for a key while Harry looked around hesitantly. There was paint peeling off the exterior of the building, and almost every window either had bars on it or was boarded up. Curiously, Harry noted that Daphne's window was the only one that remained untouched.

"There we go," Daphne muttered once she had finally put the correct key in and opened the door. "Come on in and make yourself at home."

Harry stepped inside and Daphne closed the door behind him. The interior of the apartment was cleaner than he was expecting, but still suffered from the same professional neglect as the exterior; chipped paint, old stains on the ceiling, and a large hole in the back wall that was roughly boarded up with wooden planks.

"It's not much, but I hope you like it," Daphne told him, and then much more loudly called, "I'm back!"

Harry raised his eyebrows first at Daphne, and then at the empty apartment as a shuffling sound came from one of the two rooms out of sight. At first he thought it might be a really big rat, but it was soon followed by the little pat pat noise of bare feet hitting wooden floors. A second later, a little blonde girl came barreling out of the doorway and jumped onto Daphne, clutching one of the taller girl's legs with her entire body.

"Hi sweetie," Daphne said, bending over to pat the girl's head. "Sorry I'm late – I left the staff party early, but then I got ice cream and got married."

The girl carefully unattached herself from Daphne's leg and stared up at Harry. She looked to be about four or five, but could've been older with a small frame. She had wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and overall just looked like a tiny version of Daphne.

"Ah," Harry said, glancing between Daphne and Tiny Daphne. "You…you have a child?"

Daphne's face dropped in an expression that Harry was beginning to recognize as intense shame and regret.

"I…I didn't mention that, did I…?" she mumbled, more to herself than to Harry. "I should've mentioned that…"

"Well, probably, but it's alright. I was mostly just surprised th-"

"Daphne, you really should've mentioned that," she continued muttering, ignoring Harry. "You should've mentioned that before you notarized the marriage. Now you're going to be known as the only woman to ever be dumped within an hour of-"

"Daphne," Harry interrupted, a little more forcefully, and this time she turned to look at him. "It's okay. No one's dumping anyone. But why don't you start by introducing me to your daughter?"

"What? My daughter?" Daphne gave him a blank, confused look. "No. This is my little sister, Astoria."

Harry blinked once, really hard.

"Didn't you just say she was your child…?"

"She is. I've had custody over her ever since our parents left. She's my responsibility, but she's not my daughter – she's my sister."

That nuance didn't actually change the situation much, but it still brought Harry some degree of relief. He wasn't sure if he was emotionally ready to have a daughter yet, but a sister-in-law he could handle. It helped that Astoria was a really cute kid.

"Hi there," he said, bending down to look at the girl as Daphne had. "My name is Harry Potter. I know this is a little sudden, but from today on I'm going to be part of your family. It's nice to meet you."

Astoria just stared silently up at him, unblinking. Her adorable features and uncanny stillness made her look like a doll, and Harry might've believed she was a statue if he hadn't seen her move a minute earlier.

"Uh…"

"She's a little shy," Daphne said, putting a hand on Astoria's shoulder. "But she's a really great kid. I'll go make some tea while you guys get to know each other."

Before Harry could reply, Daphne moved into the little kitchenette, leaving him standing there with the child.

After another moment of silent staring, Astoria moved into the open living room and sat down with some of her dolls. Harry's godson, Teddy, was around the same age as this girl, and he'd played with him before. Confident that he'd be able to bond with his new sister-in-law more easily over play than with conversation, he carefully sat down next to her.

Astoria glanced up at him curiously, and then handed him one of her dolls. It seemed to be an adult man with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Wow," Harry said, thrilled at the quick development, as Teddy still had trouble sharing his toys. "What a nice doll. Did you make it yourself?"

The doll had the characteristic patchwork look of a homemade toy, and based on Daphne's living circumstances, he imagined they didn't have a ton of extra money to be spent frivolously. It was kind of sad, but also cute in a humble sort of way; they made do with what they had.

Instead of answering, Astoria handed him another one of her dolls. This one was an adult woman with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Are these dolls friends?" Harry asked, now holding each one up in front of him.

Astoria just kept staring at him, and Harry's smile began to waver. Something about the girl's total silence was beginning to creep him out.

"How…how do we play with them?" he asked eventually.

The girl glanced back at the dolls, and her eyes flashed a deep, dark red. Harry felt something shift in the air, and a moment later the dolls' heads popped clean off. The girl shifted her gaze back to him, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

His initial feeling of being creeped out had graduated to utterly disturbed.

"Uh…Daphne?" Harry called, not taking his eyes off the child in front of him.

"Yes?"

"Has Astoria shown any signs of magic before?"

Daphne poked her head around the piece of wall that separated the living room and the kitchenette and frowned.

"No, Astoria suffers from a rare blood curse that prevents her from using magic. She's only able to live a normal life thanks to her strict diet, but she'll never be a witch. It's one of the reasons our parents abandoned us."

Harry took his eyes off Astoria for a second to look at Daphne in surprise. When she first said her parents had left, he'd thought she meant they moved, or maybe even died. The fact that the Greengrasses had willingly chosen to leave their children to live in squalor added a new layer of depth to the story he was just starting to uncover.

"But it's okay," Daphne smiled, noticing the look on Harry's face. "We manage just fine on our own, and I thank the universe for Astoria's existence every day."

Harry nodded, and the girl disappeared back behind the wall. He turned back to Astoria, and realized that at some point she had taken the dolls out of his hands. Their heads were attached to their bodies again, and she was taking turns dunking them into a glass of water.

"So, er…do you always hurt your dolls?" Harry asked, watching her hold the female doll's head underwater.

The kid's eyes flashed red again, and one of the other dolls scattered around the floor levitated over to Harry. He tentatively took it out of the air and stared at it; it was a little brown puppy dog with a droopy eye.

"You don't hurt this one?"

Astoria stared at the doll again, but this time her eyes didn't flash red and its head stayed attached to its body. Harry took this as an answer in the affirmative.

"Right…" he said, patting the dog's head. "Good puppy. And I take it Daphne doesn't know about your magic yet?"

She handed him the doll of the adult male and her eyes flashed, a zipper appearing where his mouth should be.

"Ah. I see. And, just to satisfy my own curiosity, what would happen - hypothetically - if I were to tell Daphne about your magic?"

The doll burst into flames and Harry dropped it instinctively, only to realize the flames weren't hot. Something in the girl's red eyes told him they could've been if she wanted them to be.

"Got it," he said. "No telling Daphne."

The girl's eyes flashed one last time and the flame extinguished. She reached over and patted him on the knee. Just then, Daphne came out of the kitchen with two cups of tea, and she smiled at the sight.

"Oh good!" she said. "I'm so happy you two are getting along. Space is pretty limited here, so it would've been awkward if you didn't. Not to mention the whole marriage thing."

"Right." Harry took the tea from Daphne and glanced around the apartment again. "Say, Daphne, why don't you come to live with me? It's up to you, of course, but you might find it more comfort-"

"Can Astoria come?"

Harry glanced at the girl. She was playing gently with the little brown dog, but she looked up as she felt two sets of eyes on her.

"Of course," he said, deciding the girl really was very cute when she wasn't threatening to set him on fire. "Your family is my family now. I'd have it no other way."

Chapter Text

"Kreacher doesn't understand," the old house elf admitted, wringing his hands. "Master Harry has acquired a spouse, and a small child for backup. Why is Master Harry upset?"

Harry stared down at him. "First of all, the small child is not 'backup' – she's my new little sister. Second of all, you put me in an awkward position tonight. I told you to buy a nice gift for the gift exchange and you bought an engagement ring."

"Master Harry has been lamenting his bachelorhood recently, so Kreacher saw fit to resolve the issue and silence the whiny master…"

"I could've accidentally proposed to my boss!" Harry protested.

Kreacher shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but somehow still didn't look apologetic.

"The master did not propose to his boss. The master proposed to a young and fertile specimen of good lineage. Kreacher fails to see why the whiny master insists on whining about this, other than to preserve the title which Kreacher bestows upon him."

Harry took a deep breath. Kreacher helped him and his friends during the horcrux hunt, and had even participated in the battle of Hogwarts. He was a useful house elf, and had toned down some of his more troublesome views in recent years.

But he was still the most irritating little imp Harry had ever known.

"Kreacher, it doesn't matter if everything happened to work out for the best tonight. How am I supposed to trust you with anything when you pull stuff like this?"

"For what reason does Master Harry think Kreacher wants to be trusted with anything?"

Harry glared at him. "Don't make me take out the sock…"

Kreacher shrunk back, and there was a glint of fear in his eyes.

"No, Master Harry, please not the sock…"

Despite everything, Kreacher didn't want to be relieved of his duties as a house elf. He was too old and had nowhere else to go, and probably wouldn't want to leave Grimmauld Place anyway. Harry had suggested retirement to the elf once, but he had adamantly refused.

"If you don't want me to take out the sock, you're going to have to stay in line from now on. You did not have my permission to interfere with my love life simply because I mentioned it once or twice."

"It was not once or twice," Kreacher countered. "The whining was constant. And Master Harry did not have a love life to interfere with until Kreacher made him one with his own two withered hands."

Harry lifted his pant leg ever so slightly, revealing his sock to Kreacher. The little elf hissed and threw up his arms to cover his face as if he were a vampire exposed to sunlight.

"Kreacher understands!" Kreacher yelled. "Kreacher understands! Put the sock away!"

Harry dropped the pant leg and Kreacher let out a deep sigh of relief. Harry could have continued lecturing the elf, but Daphne and Astoria were still in the hall, and it would've been rude to keep them waiting any longer. Besides, he had a different punishment in mind for Kreacher.

"Alright, that's enough for now," he said, and the two of them went back into the hall to find the Greengrasses. "I'm going to give Daphne a tour of the place while you keep Astoria entertained."

The elf glanced up at him. "Kreacher is not good with children, Master Harry…"

"Oh, don't worry," Harry replied. "I'm sure the two of you will get along…swimmingly."

Chapter Text

"And this will be your bedroom," Harry said, gesturing into Grimmauld's nicest guest room. "It should already be fully outfitted, but let me know if there's anything else you're missing."

Daphne didn't respond for a second, and Harry turned to look at her. She was pursing her lips and moving them from side to side, as if debating whether or not to speak.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"It's just…aren't we going to share a bedroom?"

Harry's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't given that possibility much thought.

"Well, I suppose we could, but I thought it might be too early for you," he said. "I don't want to rush into anything, for both of our sakes." Big blue eyes looked up at him quizzically, and Harry realized how stupid he was. "Er…which is to say, I know we kind of rushed into this whole thing already, but now that we're married, we could take it slow if you want…"

"Why would we?" she replied. There was no sarcasm or judgment in Daphne's tone, just genuine curiosity. "Since we've already jumped into the deep end, why not commit to the plunge?"

"No, you're right," Harry said. "There's just…I don't know, some part of my brain thinks sleeping together should wait a little bit. I mean, we haven't even discussed our plans for the future yet, or if having children is on the table…er, though, of course I'd wear protection…"

"Protection?" Daphne frowned. "You mean like pajamas?"

Harry coughed, blinked, and then stared at Daphne.

"Do you, uh…" He wasn't sure how to say this. "You do know where babies come from, right…?"

Daphne nodded. "When I was seven, back when my parents still loved me, they sat me down and gave me 'the talk'."

"Ah. And was that…helpful?"

She nodded again. "They told me that when it comes time to go beyond kissing with a boy, or when I'm ready to have a child, I'm to lie patiently on my back and let my husband figure out the rest."

Bright green eyes met bright blue eyes as Harry and Daphne stared at each other for a full five seconds in silence. For the manieth time in the past few hours, Harry waited to see if his new wife was making a joke or not. It didn't look like she was.

"Right," he said eventually. "Well, honestly, that makes me feel a lot better about sharing a bedroom with you. We'll be, er…'keeping the pajamas on' until we get to know each other a bit more."

Daphne blinked and Harry could tell she was confused, but she smiled anyway.

"Sounds good to me!"

"Great. Then let's go see where Kreacher and Astoria got off to."

As they walked back through the large townhouse in search of their respective little devils, Daphne glanced tentatively over at Harry.

"Oh...there's one last thing," she said awkwardly. "I know you'd know this by now, but I don't make a lot of money, and most of it goes towards Astoria's diet. I'm confident I can pay for most of our living expenses, but with a house this nice, rent might be a little hard-"

"Daphne, you're my wife," he interrupted, not needing to hear any more. "I'm not going to ask you to pay rent in our house. For that matter, my money is yours now too. We'll go down to Gringotts tomorrow to get your account sorted, but just know that whatever you want to buy we'll be able to afford it."

Daphne's eyes widened and she looked like she was about to cry.

"Even a cast iron skillet?"

Before Harry could answer, his attention was drawn away by two sets of barefooted footsteps running down the hall.

"Kreacher doesn't like this game very much!" Kreacher yelled, whizzing past Harry. A second later, Astoria followed, chasing after him with glowing red eyes and lethal claws where her hands should be.

Daphne, of course, was still staring up at Harry with wet eyes and was totally oblivious to everything that had just transpired.

"Er…yeah," he said. "You can definitely get a cast iron skillet. Now let's go catch up to your sister before Kreacher starts to slow down."

Chapter Text

When Harry woke up on his first morning as a married man, Daphne was already downstairs eating breakfast. They'd slept together – in only the most literal sense – the previous night, and she was still wearing her pajamas when he saw her. Her hair was somewhat tousled and her makeup was undone, but this new, intimate side of Daphne made his heart skip a beat nonetheless.

"Good morning, darling," she said as she saw him, smiling and causing his heart to skip its second beat at her use of a pet name.

Harry settled himself down before his heart gave out entirely. "Good morning...Daphne."

To be very clear, they'd done nothing of note the night before. Daphne had held his hand all night as they slept, which though adorable, wasn't particularly steamy. And yet, for some reason, he still felt a little embarrassed as he looked at her.

Then his eyes moved past the girl and over to Astoria, where his heart proceeded to skip its third beat for an entirely different reason.

"What the…?"

Harry wasn't actually sure what he wanted to ask, so his question trailed off into oblivion. Thankfully, Daphne tracked his gaze and understood his confusion.

"This is what I was talking about earlier," she explained, gesturing to her little sister. "Astoria is on a very strict diet to prevent the progression of her blood curse. It can get a bit expensive, but I'm able to pay for her, and it really does help. Without this, she loses energy and starts to wither away."

Harry blinked, his mind slowly recovering from the shock. Daphne was looking at him sheepishly and expectantly, likely wondering what Harry's reaction to their newest familial expense would be.

"Oh, yeah, it's okay…" he said, waving his hand vaguely and dismissively. "I mean, we can definitely afford it, but…"

Astoria finished clearing one plate and moved on to another. There were close to a dozen nearby, and all were piled high with the same thing.

"Raw meat," Kreacher mumbled from beside Harry. "The Powerful One requests – nay, demands – raw meat."

Indeed, Astoria was surrounded by plates stacked with various kinds of meats, all raw and glistening. It was a somewhat macabre sight, but Astoria dug into them happily.

After a moment, Harry glanced down at his decrepit old house elf.

"Wait…'The Powerful One'? You've taken to calling little Astoria 'The Powerful One' in capital letters when you're still calling me 'whiny master'?"

Kreacher shrugged, and his geriatric shoulder joints clicked audibly. "Kreacher calls everyone as they should be called."

Harry hummed. "Is that why you call yourself Creature?"

The elf frowned. "Kreacher must begrudgingly give the whiny master a point for that one."

Harry sighed, knowing he was surely at a horrible net loss in that game, and sat down next to Daphne. Unlike Astoria, his wife's plate was modestly filled with toast, sausages, and scrambled eggs. She patted his leg as he sat.

"Your house elf makes delicious food," she told him, covering her mouth with her hand as she chewed. "He's already giving me domestic insecurity."

Kreacher scurried back into the kitchen, but Harry thought he saw him blush a bit before he left.

"I suppose it's one of his more useful qualities," Harry admitted. He turned back to Daphne. "You don't cook?"

"I do, but I don't get much practice so I'm not especially good. Well, unless you like tartare…"

Harry glanced across the table where an adorable little girl was shamelessly devouring her bodyweight in raw meat. Her cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk, and her mouth was painted red from the excess myoglobin.

"Right," he said. "I guess I don't mind it. So, did you not cook for yourself when you lived with Astoria, or did you just share some of her, uh…meat?"

Daphne shook her head. "I never had much money left over after her grocery bill. My diet consisted mostly of peanut butter sandwiches and beansprouts. I think this is the first time I've tasted real meat since my parents left."

That struck Harry as kind of sad, but Daphne didn't seem too hung up about it. She actually seemed rather chipper as she continued to make progress on her breakfast.

After a few more minutes of eating in silence – barring Astoria's little chomping noises as she tore into her meat – Harry turned back to look at Daphne. She noticed his attention, rushed to swallow, and then choked on her eggs so hard she almost cried.

"Ack! Sorry," she said, chasing the cough down with orange juice. "Did you have something to say?"

Harry bit his lip. His clumsy wife really was quite cute.

"I just wanted to say you can eat whatever you want now," he said. "Or cook, if you prefer that. I know that should be a given, but I figured I'd let you know just in case. Because…maybe this is presumptuous to say on our first morning together, but I want to give you everything you weren't able to get before. Not just material things, but…love, too."

It was a more heartfelt speech than Harry was normally comfortable giving, but Daphne really did stir those feelings within him. In the past twenty hours, he'd come to understand that she was a remarkably sweet girl with a big heart and a great attitude for life despite its challenges. He wasn't sure if he could honestly say he was 'in love' with her quite yet, but he was rapidly growing to care for her in a deeper way than he'd have thought possible in such a short amount of time. Even if his inexperience led him to being a less than perfect husband, he at least wanted her to know that.

Then a single tear fell down Daphne's cheek, and Harry's inexperience as a husband was immediately felt.

"Ah!" he screamed, raising his hands. "I'm sorry! Did I say something wrong?"

Daphne shook her head. "No, not at all…I just cry easily, and that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. I mean, I'm sure Astoria's thought some really nice things about me too, but she doesn't speak so I never hear them…"

Harry nodded tentatively, and glanced over at Kreacher for assistance. Unfortunately, he was too busy refilling Astoria's breakfast plates to notice.

"I promise to love you forever and ever," Daphne continued, hugging Harry awkwardly as they were both still sitting. "You're the best husband I've ever had…though you're also the only husband I've ever had, which I guess also makes you the worst husband I've ever had, but I don't like to think about it that way."

She sniffled, and Harry felt that single tear sink into his t-shirt. Unaccustomed to emotions, females, and by extension, emotional females, Harry just stayed quiet and patted her gently on the back. He'd have to ask his friends for advice about this kind of thing later.

"I'm glad for the contact, but should we finish our breakfast now?" he asked eventually. "Your eggs are getting cold."

"Ah! I'm sorry!" she said, pulling away from him. "You were warmer than I was expecting, and my heart started to beat a little faster. I wanted to keep hugging you."

It was Harry's turn to choke.

"I'm sure there'll be more time for that later," he said, recovering. "But for now-"

His words were lost as he mysteriously flew back into Daphne's arms. She caught him with a little exclamation of surprise.

"Oh!" she said. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me. I didn't realize you wanted to be hugged as well."

She pulled Harry's head into her chest and gently stroked his hair. He once again thanked himself for jumping into a random marriage with a stranger as he discovered that his wife was warm, soft, and smelled lovely.

"I guess…?" he replied, his words muffled through surprisingly more Daphne than he was expecting. He wasn't complaining about his position, but was still a bit confused about how he got there.

Just then, Astoria's last empty plate hit the table, and Harry managed to turn his head to look at her. Her eyes had just finished switching back from their angry red to their innocent blue, and she hopped out of her chair with a satisfied look on her face.

Daphne readjusted his position on her chest and squeezed him tighter.

"Ah. She's a good kid…" Harry muttered.

Chapter Text

Hermione Granger tapped her foot impatiently on the sidewalk as she waited for Harry to answer the door. She had come running – or more accurately, apparating – the second she heard news of the marriage, and now she couldn't wait a moment longer for answers.

Harry was her very best friend, and she had been certain that she was his as well. The fact that she had only learned about his marriage – or for that matter, his intention to propose – from his coworkers was one of the top ten betrayals she had ever personally experienced. If he didn't have a very good explanation, she would have to give him a very long lecture.

"What's taking him so long…?" she wondered, ringing the doorbell to Grimmauld Place once more.

Daphne Greengrass was familiar to Hermione only in face and name. They'd gone to school with her for six whole years, and spoken a total of zero whole times. She was pretty sure she'd have remembered if Harry ever mentioned her as well, and was therefore totally sure that he hadn't. Their courtship must have been quick and recent.

"But Harry and I met for tea just last week," she muttered. "Why wouldn't he have told me about it then…?"

There was one more possibility which Hermione was unfortunately forced to consider: Harry's good nature had been taken advantage of, and Daphne had maliciously seduced him into a shotgun marriage for the sake of securing an alimony. This might not have been the most realistic scenario, but Hermione was already calculating every way in which she could break them up if it was.

She was wondering what to do if Daphne was already pregnant when Harry's front door finally opened.

"Oh, hey Hermione!" he said, smiling and raising his hand in some vaguely friendly gesture. "Fancy seeing you here! What's up?"

Hermione's face immediately went red with anger, and she dramatically stormed up the stairs which she had previously descended for just such a purpose.

"What's up?" she repeated incredulously. "What do you mean 'what's up'? You just got married, and the only reason I know is because Jordan told me that Isaac told her that Isabelle was complaining that you proposed to Daphne Greengrass during a work party!"

"Oh, right…" Harry replied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "I didn't tell you yet, did I…? To be fair, it was only yesterday that I proposed."

"Harry, I don't care if you only proposed yesterday – you could've told me at any point since planning to propose to her! For that matter, you could've told me that you finally found a girl you were interested in!"

Harry stared at the ground sheepishly, and Hermione's jaw dropped. She'd known Harry for over a decade, and had lived with him in a tent long enough to read his facial expressions more accurately than legilimency.

"You didn't have any interest in her until you proposed to her!?" she exclaimed.

Harry's head whipped back up. "What? How could you have possibly figured that out from one facial expression?"

"That doesn't matter right now," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "Right now all that matters is you explaining to me why you married a girl you didn't have any interest in until you accidentally proposed to her."

"Wait, no." Harry was getting seriously freaked out now. "How did you know it was an accident?"

"Once I determined you proposed to her before you took notice of her, it was easy to deduce that the proposal was an accident," Hermione explained. "It was therefore also logical to conclude that you were swept up in the pace of things after she agreed to your accidental proposal, and thus you went along with it after determining it wasn't a bad decision."

Harry glanced around nervously. This girl was a detective. He wasn't hiding anything else from Hermione, was he…? He turned back to look at her after deciding he probably wasn't.

"Well, anyway…if you already know all of that, what do you want me to tell you?"

"I want you to tell me why you thought it was a good decision to marry a girl you hardly know," Hermione replied, staring at the ground. "And after that, I want you to tell me why you thought it was a good decision not to tell your best friend about it…"

Hermione's sails had lost some wind by now, and she was starting to look like a kicked puppy. Harry wasn't sure if this was genuine on her end or simply a manipulation tactic, but it had the same effect either way.

"Listen," he said, sighing. "I'm going to be totally honest, but I don't want you to freak out. Can you promise me that?"

She glanced up at him. "Okay…"

"I decided to marry her because she's really cute."

"WHAT!?"

Harry grimaced and shot a glance towards his open front door. He closed it halfway and turned back to Hermione.

"Keep your voice down," he urged. "It sounds worse than it is."

"How can it be less worse than it sounds!?" she demanded, now in a furious whisper. "You married a girl because you thought she was cute!?"

"Really cute," he corrected. "When she brushes her teeth she has trouble keeping all of the toothpaste in and it spills all over her mouth."

"Harry, what in the actual hell are you talking about?"

"Look…it's hard to explain all that Daphne is." He sighed again. "Just come inside and you'll see what I mean."

He opened the door to Grimmauld and disappeared behind it, gesturing for Hermione to do the same. After a moment's hesitation, she followed him in.

"Alright, fine," she muttered under her breath. "Let's see just how cute this wife of yours is, Harry."

Chapter Text

"Eep! Ouch, sorry!"

Hermione watched Daphne Greengrass burn her fingers on the teapot she'd brought into the living room, spilling most of it on the floor as her hand instinctively flinched away. She lifted the affected fingers to her mouth to suck on them and cool them down, but in the process, spilled what was left of the tea once more on the floor.

"Ah…"

Hermione had to admit, the whole performance was a little cute, but that's all it was; a little cute.

"I'll go prepare another pot," Daphne said embarrassedly, slinking back out of the room.

As Kreacher scurried into the room to clean the tea stains out of the carpet, Hermione turned to Harry.

"So that's why you married her?" she asked a little judgmentally. "Because she's attractive and clumsy?"

Harry shook his head. "She's certainly attractive and I find her clumsiness endearing, but when I say 'cute', I don't just mean on the outside. She's one of the most genuine people I've ever met. The earnest way she carries herself is really refreshing to me…especially after all the people we were forced to deal with after the war."

Hermione hummed. She knew where Harry was coming from; the amount of people that had approached her with praise and fake smiles only after they had defeated Voldemort was staggering. And considering those same people wouldn't have given her the time of day before the war, their friendliness left a sour taste in her mouth.

"That still doesn't mean it was a good idea to jump into a marriage with someone you didn't know."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, but life seemed intent on setting me up with Daphne, and who was I to refuse?"

A minute passed, and Daphne returned with a new teapot. She was walking incredibly slow and focusing incredibly hard on the pot, trying to prevent it from spilling again. It was surely a very intense and stressful moment in Daphne's head, but from the couch Harry and Hermione were sitting on, she looked a bit ridiculous.

"Thanks, Daphne." Harry smiled as she finally reached them. "You didn't burn your fingers too badly, I hope?"

She set the cups down with a sigh of relief and shook her head. "No – my pride was hurt worse than my fingers. Here I was, hoping to make a good first impression, but then I spilled tea all over the floor before I even got the chance to introduce myself."

"You're Daphne Greengrass," Hermione said, trying to imbue her tone with a casualness she didn't feel. "We went to Hogwarts together for six years – you hardly have to worry about introducing yourself."

Daphne's eyes widened in surprise. "You remember me?"

Hermione frowned. She had spent many of her formative years at Hogwarts wishing she had Daphne's hair instead of her own, and her weaker moments wishing she had the rest of the girl as well. Girls like Hermione were destined to feel insecure as teenagers, and girls like Daphne were destined to make girls like Hermione feel insecure.

"I do," she said slowly, not wanting to reveal that entire line of thinking. "Though, I guess I wouldn't be surprised if you don't remember me…"

Daphne's eyes widened again. "What?" she exclaimed, a little louder than was ladylike. "No, of course I remember you! You're Hermione Granger, the genius!"

Harry and Hermione shared a look. She raised an eyebrow, he shrugged, and they both turned back to Daphne.

"Well, I am Hermione Granger, and I doubt you're mistaking me for someone else, but I'm not so sure about that 'genius' part…"

Daphne blinked. "You got the best grades in class for all six of the years we attended Hogwarts."

"Well, yes, that's true, but…"

"And you helped Harry beat Lord Voldemort in the last war."

"Well, I won't argue there, but…"

"And you read super fast. Whenever I saw you studying in the library, you would turn pages before I even finished my sentence."

Hermione thought that last one sounded more like a Daphne problem, but the girl was showering her with compliments so she didn't feel as though it would be appropriate to mention it. Unlike the smarmy praise Hermione was accustomed to getting from sycophants in the wizarding world, Daphne's wide-eyed recollection of her accomplishments seemed to be genuine.

And, if she were being honest, maybe a little cute.

"Well, anyway, you're not wrong…but I still don't think I'm a genius," Hermione said. "I'm just a bookworm who likes to study. Besides, you technically attended school longer than me."

Daphne tapped her chin. "I don't think so? I dropped out in the summer before seventh year, same as you guys."

Hermione's jaw dropped, and luckily, she was too focused on Daphne to notice Harry's doing the same from beside her.

"Really? Why?" Hermione paused. "Oh…because of the war?"

There had been several other students who dropped out of Hogwarts at around the same time, but as a pureblood Slytherin, Hermione figured Daphne would have had less to fear than they did. Situations differed though, so she remembered to keep an open mind.

"Not really. I left Hogwarts so I could work full time at a muggle grocery store." Hermione's open mind started to crumble at that revelation, and it must have shown on her face, because Daphne explained further. "My parents abandoned us around that time, so I needed to take a full time job to support Astoria."

Hermione was just starting to wonder who 'Astoria' was when, as if summoned, an adorable little blonde girl appeared in the doorway to the living room. She stood there silently, staring emotionlessly at Hermione.

"Er, right…" she said, taken aback by both Daphne's story and the surprise presence of a child in the house. "And…is that her?"

Daphne turned around. "Oh. Yep! Hi Astoria, when did you get here?"

The kid didn't reply, instead continuing to stare at Hermione. The young woman felt a chill run up her spine. Fearing a tiny child was irrational though, so she shook the feeling off.

"To be clear, that's her little sister," Harry said, leaning in from beside her.

Hermione turned a strange look on him. "Yeah, of course. What else would she be – her daughter?"

He frowned, clearly lost in some sort of thought, but Hermione ignored him; she had bigger things to worry about. More specifically, a new wrinkle in what she had already deemed a rather wrinklesome situation.

While it was through no fault of her own, Daphne had brought baggage in the form of an infant into Harry's marriage. While he might be okay with that for now, the responsibility may become an issue somewhere down the line. Harry was busy with his work as an auror, and adding both a wife and what was essentially a child to his life in such a short time was a recipe for disaster. No matter how cute the kid was, Hermione couldn't help but feel like Harry was in for more than he bargained for with this whole deal.

Astoria blinked, and after another moment of silently staring at Hermione, walked over to the couch on her tiny little legs and jumped up to sit beside Daphne. She was carrying the brown puppy dog doll with the droopy eye, and made for a totally adorable picture despite the eerie silence.

Hermione felt her resolve weaken as Daphne smiled fondly at the girl and started braiding her hair. They were really cute.

"So, were you planning on staying for lunch?" Harry asked at long last. "We didn't have anything planned, but…"

"Oh, no, I'll be leaving soon," Hermione replied. "I just wanted to stop by and check in, given the…circumstances." She glanced over at Daphne before speaking to Harry again, in a hushed tone. "But can I speak to you alone for a minute?"

He glanced over at Daphne as well, who was now blinking rapidly at the two of them.

"Sure, I guess…?"

They stood from the couch, but before they could leave the room, Daphne spoke up.

"Um," she started, getting their attention. She was clenching her fists lightly, and seemed to be wavering over whether or not to continue. Eventually, she did. "Hermione, I just wanted to say, I've grown to care for Harry very much. I know you've known him for much longer than I have, and so I can't compare the depth of our feelings, but I've pledged my heart to him and him alone, and will dedicate my life to loving him more with each passing day. In even a short amount of time I can tell how caring and patient he is, and he's never made me feel like less than I am. He's taken all of my shortcomings in stride, and wants me despite them. So…so I'm sorry to say this, but I won't let my feelings lose to you, no matter what!"

Daphne was standing now, and while she didn't seem angry, her face was set and serious. Harry and Hermione just blinked at her, totally stunned.

"Er…what?" Hermione said, being the first to speak.

Daphne looked between the two of them. "You're in love with Harry, and you want to convince him to choose you instead of me, right?"

The longtime friends exchanged another glance. This time, it was Harry who spoke.

"Um…no. Definitely not."

Daphne's determined expression started to falter. "Really? But then…"

"I'm already married," Hermione said, raising her hand and showing off the ring on her finger. "For three years, actually. And to a woman. Even if I swung Harry's way, I've known him too long to be interested. He's like a brother to me."

The tips of Daphne's ears started to flush red. "Then, when you asked to speak with him alone…?"

"I just wanted to tell him that if he had any problems, he could come to me with them. I know this is all new to him, so..."

Daphne's lip started to quiver, and her cheeks took on the same shade of red as her ears. Slowly, her big blue eyes started to water.

"Then…I totally misread the situation, and said all that embarrassing stuff in front of you for no reason?"

Hermione fidgeted. "Er, well…"

"Ahhh!" Daphne screamed, covering her face with her hands. She ran from the room, tripped on the doorframe, and cried out in pain. A moment later she picked herself back up and started running again.

"Yikes," Hermione said, wincing as another crash sounded in the distance. "This is my fault, isn't it?"

"Probably," Harry agreed. "You can be a bit intense sometimes. She might have misread your energy, but you were still giving out that energy in the first place."

Hermione's shoulders sagged. "You should go after her now. And…apologize for me, if you will."

He nodded. "Sure thing."

As Hermione collected her things and turned to leave, she spoke one last time.

"And for the record, I think I get it now," she said. "Daphne really is cute, isn't she?"

Harry smiled proudly. "Of course she is. She's my wife, after all."

After a few moments, Hermione left the house, and Harry took off down the hallway to go find Daphne.

...Which left Astoria alone in the living room.

The little girl hopped off the couch, skipping over to the window with her little doggy doll in tow. She clambered up the radiator and peeked through the curtains, watching Hermione descend the steps to Grimmauld Place.

Unbeknownst to Hermione, that wedding ring had saved her; if Astoria had thought she was a threat to her precious big sister's happiness, she'd have taken care of her right then and there. But Daphne had just braided her hair, so she was in a good mood.

And thus, Hermione Granger lived to see another day.

Chapter Text

Daphne Greengrass walked through the hallways at the ministry of magic with an air of grace and confidence. This was her usual bearing, and despite being recently wed, nothing about that bearing had changed. If anything, she seemed to stand a little taller, keeping her chin a little straighter.

Heads turned as she strode past cubicles, headed directly to the minister's office. Few people knew exactly what she did at the ministry, but all were sure the job was important. She spent more time with the minister than anyone else did, and was often seen coming or going from her office. Some even speculated that Daphne herself may be in line for the minister's position, more so now than ever before; between her ties with both the Minister for Magic and Harry Potter, she had the influence to be a major contender in a future election.

The ministry employees who were watching Daphne returned to their work as she stepped into the minister's office, closing the door behind her.

"You wished to see me?" she asked.

The Minister for Magic nodded. "I'm afraid so. I don't want to draw this out any longer than it needs to be, so I'll cut right to the chase…you're being laid off."

"Laid off?" Daphne tilted her head. "Laid off on what?"

"Er…laid off work. Permanently. You're being fired."

Daphne's eyes widened as comprehension dawned on her. "Oh..."

The two women stared at each other silently for a few seconds until Daphne spoke up again.

"Did I do something wrong...?" she asked tentatively.

The minister sighed. "No, Daphne, not really. But we've been pushed to trim the ends off our budget recently and reduce some of our extraneous spending. Ultimately, I just can't rationalize paying you a salary anymore."

"Oh, I see…" Daphne looked up at the minister hopefully. "If you're having financial troubles, maybe we can just renegotiate my contract?"

The minister winced and cringed, because she did really like Daphne, and firing her had been a hard decision. But as the Minister for Magic, sometimes hard decisions had to be made.

"It's not about the contract. It's about your work. I can use owls to deliver my letters around the office, and magic keeps my desk clean even without your help dusting. I simply don't think there's a place for you at the ministry anymore."

Daphne's heart started to beat in the sad little way hearts often did when they got bad news. What would she do if she got fired from the ministry? How would Harry react? Would he even still want her?

"What about your water?" Daphne asked. "You don't need me to bring you cups of water from the dispenser anymore?"

"No, Daphne," the minister replied. "I'm sorry. I can get my own water from now on. I'm afraid there's no changing this decision…my word is final. You'll receive your severance in the mail by the end of the week – in the meantime, you can take the rest of the day to pack up your personal belongings."

Daphne's shoulders slumped. "Oh…it's okay, I haven't got any."

The conversation could have ended there, but the Minister for Magic felt the need to say a proper goodbye. Though she had originally only hired Daphne out of pity, she had genuinely grown to like the kindhearted girl in their past few months as colleagues. She'd liked her so much in fact that she hadn't felt comfortable firing her until she was sure she'd be taken care of; realistically, this should've happened by the end of Daphne's first day.

"I'm sorry, Daphne," she said. "I truly am. And I hope you find a career where your…unique set of skills can be put to better use than they were here."

Daphne shrugged pathetically, not trusting her voice to stay even if she replied.

"Also, while this might be inappropriate for me to say given the circumstances, congratulations on your marriage." The minister threw a smile at Daphne, though it wasn't reciprocated by the despondent girl. "I'm sure Harry will be able to help you through this trial, and many more to come. He's a good man – you chose well, and he did too."

Having said what she wanted to say, the Minister for Magic flicked her wand at a stack of papers. The topmost sheet floated over to her desk, and she dipped her quill in a pot of ink to begin writing. Daphne recognized the silent dismissal for what it was and turned to leave.

Heads turned once again as Daphne Greengrass walked out of the minister's office. They froze and lingered, but for different reasons than usual. Daphne's air of grace was gone, and her confidence was shot. The remarkably tall girl seemed small now, her posture slumped in on itself as she walked slowly through the hallway. She met no one's eyes as she passed their cubicles.

Theories were already forming in the heads of those who watched her, and they would be shared at their earliest convenience. One thing was eminently clear already; Daphne was no longer in line for the minister's position. In fact, she was most likely in line for no one's position at all.

And indeed, as Daphne walked out of the ministry that morning, it was for the last time.

Chapter Text

Daphne Greengrass walked through the streets of London with her head hung low. She had just lost her job, and had no clue what to do next.

And unbeknownst to her, her advance was being observed very carefully by three strange men from across the road.

"Is that her?" the first one said. "She doesn't look like much."

"It's her," the second replied. "I recognize her. She was a few years below me at school."

"Pretty thing," the third grunted.

The three men watched Daphne walk, making sure not to lose sight of her. She was a pretty thing, even with slumped shoulders and an empty stare. They kept some distance so as not to be noticed, but it was likely an unnecessary precaution; Daphne's eyes were fixed firmly on the pavement.

"She doesn't look too happy," the first observed. "Upset, even."

"I'd be upset too, marrying Potter. Waste of a pretty face."

"He probably doesn't satisfy her," the third chuckled darkly. "I bet I could satisfy her."

The second turned to his friend and shot him a hard look.

"Don't lose sight of the mission. We use Daphne to get to Potter, and then use Potter to get the Dark Lord's name back out. With Britain's golden boy dead, everyone will come to fear the Dark Apostles…as they should."

"There'll still be time for fun," the third asserted. "There always is."

"You can have your fun after our mission is complete," the second scowled. "Until then, you follow my lead and don't do anything stupid. Potter's finally showing some weakness – we need to capitalize on that opportunity while we can."

"And who's to say she's a weakness?" the first piped in. Unlike the others, his wary eyes hadn't left Daphne's shuffling figure. "She may not seem like much, but she's still a competent witch, right?"

The second shook his head. "She only looks like a competent witch on the outside. I knew a guy with a sister in her year at Hogwarts – apparently she's as dumb as a brick and thick as one too."

"Huh. Sounds like my kind of girl," the third said.

"You'd be two peas in a pod, that's for sure."

"And what about the house?" the first asked. "We're sure it isn't trapped or warded?"

He was the cautious one in the group. Sometimes too cautious, but that caution had saved their lives on more than one occasion both during and after the war. That's why the second didn't scold him, even though he desperately wanted to.

"I checked the family registry," he said instead. "They live with an old, decrepit house elf and a young child. Magical traps or wards would be too dangerous to leave around the house – they probably rely on anonymity to keep themselves safe."

"But it's not risk-free?"

"Nothing good ever is. And more importantly, if we don't make a move soon, we'll have much more to fear than a failed mission."

The other two nodded gravely.

"The loss of our culture," they said simultaneously. 

In this, the three men agreed completely. To live in a world where the rightful rulers of magical Britain were seen as equals to their dirty-blooded counterparts was no world to live in at all. If staging an assault against Harry Potter himself was the key to reversing this societal shift, then they would take to their mission with pride. This was, after all, their responsibility.

Some minutes later, Daphne finally stopped in front of a grand townhouse in a muggle neighborhood. As the second had expected, it was an unlikely place for a magical household, and was thus likely Potter's primary means with which to defend himself from unwanted attention.

And if it wasn't…well, there were few things his group of men couldn't handle.

"Astoria, I'm back!"

Daphne unlocked the door to the house and let herself inside. She disappeared behind it a moment later, but not before the second man cast a silent spell to prevent the door from shutting itself completely.

"Alright," he said, standing from their hiding spot and moving towards the unassuming townhouse. "Follow me, boys. It's showtime."

Chapter Text

"I just…I don't know what to do," Daphne said miserably. "How am I supposed to explain this to Harry?"

Astoria scuttled over to the couch and patted Daphne's knee comfortingly. The older girl gave her a forced smile.

"Thanks, Astoria. I'm just scared. It's like that time I got fired from the grocery store for breaking all those glass jars in the preserved foods section…do you remember that?"

Astoria blinked twice, which was her standard conveyal of agreement. Daphne smiled again, patting the little girl's head.

"Well, anyway…your big sister will figure something out. I always do. If Harry divorces me, we'll just cry a bit and move on. We've managed being alone before, so we can do it again."

Astoria jumped onto the couch and gave Daphne a hug. Daphne hugged her back.

"I'll miss him though," she sighed. "It's startling how quickly you get used to sleeping with someone. From now on I'll wake up and my hands will be cold because no one will have held them during the night…" Daphne's face dropped, and she turned to Astoria. "Wait. You don't think I'm already pregnant, do you?"

Astoria blinked once, slowly, which was her standard conveyal of 'seriously, Daphne?' and the stressed girl let out a breath of relief.

"No, I know holding hands usually can't get you pregnant, but I know those things can be complicated sometimes, so I just wanted to make sure…"

Astoria patted Daphne's knee again, and the two fell into a grave but comfortable silence. Apart from her uncertainty over how Harry would take the news of her unemployment, Daphne also worried for herself, and Astoria. She had no academic qualifications and no employable skills; she was as useless as useless came, and if she didn't find a job soon, her and Astoria would starve.

"I guess I could sell my body…" Even Daphne was vaguely aware of the shady dealings that took place in Knockturn Alley between attractive young people and the rich people who would pay for them. "I'd have to hold hands with a lot of strangers though…"

Astoria's head whipped around and she blinked many times in rapid succession. This one was her standard conveyal of 'what the hell, Daphne?', but Daphne misunderstood the look entirely.

"No, you're right. I'm not the kind of person to engage in casual hand holding like that, even if it's for profit." Daphne bit her lip and chewed. "Maybe I'm approaching this from the wrong angle…I just need to prove my usefulness to Harry so he doesn't throw me out before I find a new job. As long as I can do that, we might have a chance at survival…"

Daphne stood from the couch. She needed to find something she could do that would make her useful. Kreacher kept the house tidy, so cleaning was out of the question. She briefly considered giving Harry back massage coupons, but dismissed the idea because the existence of back massage coupons implied that she wasn't willing to give him one without them, which wasn't true. She finally debated the merits of simply begging him to let her stay, even if it was more of a last resort option.

Daphne had very nearly settled on that last one when something glorious happened.

Astoria's stomach grumbled.

"That's it!" Daphne screamed, startling Astoria a little bit. "I'll make him something! Kreacher makes dinner, but he never makes dessert – that means I can be useful if I make something sweet!"

Encouraged, the young woman walked briskly towards the kitchen and started taking out a strange collection of pots, pans, and bowls. The pantry was stocked with flour, eggs, sugar, and all the other things that Daphne instinctively imagined she would need to make sweets, and she brought them all out onto the counter too just in case.

"Great!" she said, clapping her hands and looking proudly at her mess. "Now what do I do with all this stuff?"

Ultimately, Daphne had never actually baked anything before, and thus had no clue where to start. Even her cooking experiences were mostly limited to peanut butter sandwiches for herself and raw meat for Astoria, so anything that required heat to prepare was a bit of a mystery to her. For some reason she was feeling confident though, so she started adding things haphazardly to a large mixing bowl.

"Sugar, hm? I feel like it needs to be sweet, so I'll add lots of that. And then maybe some salt? Because why not?"

As Daphne concocted a monstrosity that reminded her only somewhat of all the potions classes she had failed back at Hogwarts, Astoria watched on in horror. Daphne in a room full of sharp and hot things was a recipe for disaster. Knowing this, the little girl chewed on a pig ear and stayed flexible in case she needed to move at a moment's notice.

A moment later, Astoria's flexibility was rewarded as she needed to move at a moment's notice.

"Whoops!"

Daphne suddenly slipped on literally nothing and threw the mixing bowl high into the air like the starting quaffle of a quidditch game. Having prepared herself for just such a situation, Astoria used her forbidden Shadow Step technique and glided across the room to catch it. She then teleported around like a maniac ensuring each flying glob of batter landed back in the bowl before it hit the ground.

By the time Daphne's head swiveled around to find her errant mixing bowl, Astoria was already behind her, holding it outstretched in her little arms.

"Oh!" Daphne exclaimed. "Thank goodness you were standing behind me, Tori. It would've been bad if I spilled all that."

Astoria batted her eyelashes innocently as Daphne patted her head. The pig ear was still dangling from her mouth, and as Daphne reclaimed her mixing bowl, she took it back into her hands again. Having successfully averted the morning's first crisis, Astoria returned to munching.

The morning's second crisis followed not long after.

"Eep!"

Why Daphne needed a meat cleaver for baking was beyond Astoria, but the fact that the girl's fingers were milliseconds away from being hacked off instead of the chocolate she was targeting was quite clear. Astoria's blue eyes flashed red, and suddenly Daphne's hand was repositioned, allowing the cleaver to strike the chocolate as it was meant to.

"Oh, phew," Daphne said, letting out a breath and putting the cleaver down. "I thought I was about to cut my fingers there. I have to be more careful when I'm using sharp objects."

Astoria rolled her little eyes because she knew Daphne would never be more careful when using sharp objects, and subsequently went back to watching over her sister.

"Now I just need to stick this in the oven," she said a short while later. "Hmm…how do you know if an oven is hot enough?"

In a move that surprised even Astoria, Daphne opened the oven and reached into it. Of course, she wasn't dumb enough to actually touch the sides, but she was clumsy enough to lose her balance and fall at that very same moment.

"Ah!"

Instinctively, Daphne reached out to brace herself on the nearest object she could find, which just so happened to be the inside of the oven. Instead of burning herself, however, her cushioned hands hit the rack and felt mere warmth.

"Oh!" Daphne said, glancing down at her own hands in surprise. "When did I put these on?"

Two frilly pink oven mitts covered her hands protectively, ensuring she didn't get burned. There was a little graphic of a brown dog on each one that reminded Daphne somewhat of Astoria's favorite doll.

"Huh. What peculiar mittens…do these belong to Kreacher?"

From behind the confused Daphne, Astoria's eyes shifted back from blood red to sky blue. She let out a tiny little breath. Looking after her older sister was tiring sometimes.

At long last, and after properly putting her creation in the oven, Daphne turned back around to face Astoria. Despite doing none of the baking, the little girl seemed rather worn out.

"Are you okay?" Daphne asked. Astoria blinked twice, so she shrugged. "Oh, alright then. Well, there's nothing to do now but wait for the cake to be finished. Want to head to the couch and play a game?"

Astoria readily agreed, happy to move her sister anywhere if it meant being far away from the kitchen.

They were just settling down into the living room when a disturbing presence tickled the edge of Astoria's senses. She knew it wasn't Harry or Kreacher, because she recognized their auras, and she was pretty sure it wasn't the bushy haired girl from last time either. No, there were three completely new presences in Grimmauld Place, and all three felt malicious. She'd have to check this out, and she'd have to play her cards right to evaluate/dispose of these threats while simultaneously keeping her older sister distracted.

"So…what should we play?" Daphne asked eventually.

Astoria quietly handed her a deck of cards. It would take Daphne a while to shuffle them, and that would buy her some time to find the intruders.

From somewhere else in Grimmauld Place, a little brown doggy doll started to crawl its way out of Astoria's room and down the stairs.

Astoria dusted off her pristine yellow sundress and stood up; she now had a different kind of game to play.

Chapter Text

Daphne's tongue protruded slightly from her mouth as she stared at the deck of cards in her hands. She was focused. She would shuffle the cards. She wouldn't fail.

"Ah!"

On her first shuffle, the cards went spilling out of her hands and onto the floor. Astoria nodded slightly, having fully expected this.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Daphne whined. "I'll pick these up." She got on her hands and knees and started collecting the scattered cards. "At least they're shuffled now…"

Astoria figured it would take Daphne at least thirty seconds to find all the cards, so that was the window in which she would search and destroy her first target. She teleported away, and tracked the nearest foreign presence to the dining room. There was a man there, in his thirties, casting spells on the floor and walls.

"This will keep our tracks covered," he mumbled, like a bad villain from a movie that revealed their plan as they laid it. "Now we can do whatever we- Hey, who are you!?"

The man's head whipped upwards as he felt Astoria's presence in the room with him. She was entirely unassuming – being a tiny blonde child that surely weighed no more than a small dog – but he was the cautious one in the group.

"Ah. The kid, eh?" he said, continuing his villainous monologue. "Cute thing. I'm sure you'd sell nicely to the right buyer. Now let's shut you up before you screa-"

A hole that suspiciously resembled a portal to hell opened up at the man's feet, and he let out a shout of surprise as he dropped through. His scream was cut off prematurely as the hole closed back up, but it was still enough to ring throughout the house. Astoria cursed inwardly and quickly teleported back to the living room.

"Hey, did you hear that?" Daphne asked, raising her head from the floor to look at the Astoria who had only just appeared back on the couch.

The little girl blinked innocently. This was her standard conveyal of 'no, I did not hear that and it definitely wasn't the sound of a man screaming as he fell directly from the mortal realm and down into hell', and Daphne shrugged. The deception was a success, and when she went back to picking up cards, Astoria helped her.

"Well, I think that's all of them," Daphne said once they were done. "Should we play Go Fish now?"

Astoria blinked twice, and Daphne started carefully dealing the cards. She didn't drop them this time, but Astoria was unconcerned by the lack of a distraction. Elsewhere in the house, her hound was already dealing with the second intruder.

Plop, plop, plop…

"Hey, what's that?" the next man said.

He was the muscle of the group, and his role had been to wait quietly until he got the signal to strike against Harry Potter. He had gotten rather bored though, and decided to wander around and see if he couldn't find anything shiny to steal in the meantime; his main prize for this mission would be Daphne, but he wouldn't pass up on a few extra galleons if they were easy to come by.

Plop, plop, plop…

Instead of anything shiny however, the man found only a little brown puppy dog doll with a droopy eye. It was dragging itself slowly across the hallway towards him, making a strange noise as its beany body fell against the wooden floors of the house.

Plop, plop, plop…

"You some kinda wizard's toy…?" the man asked.

He reached out with his hand to grab the oddly lifelike thing, passively wondering if it would cry out when he crushed it. It was the last thing he ever did though, as the little doggy's stitched mouth opened up to reveal a gaping maw with hundreds of razor sharp teeth.

Unlike with the first man, this one didn't even have time to scream.

Back in the living room, Daphne stared disbelievingly at her hand.

"I…I lost?" she mumbled. She had only made one set, while Astoria had the rest. "Impossible…"

Despite her words, Daphne had never actually won a game of Go Fish in her life. She'd actually never won a game of anything in her life. Astoria, for her part, just sat back smugly and petted her little brown doggy doll.

"Hey, that doll's a little bigger than I remember it being…"

Astoria blinked innocently at Daphne, which was her standard conveyal of 'gosh Daphne, how could a doll possibly get bigger over time, surely it's all in your head', and Daphne shrugged. After all, the logical conclusion was that she was simply misremembering the size of the doll.

"Oh, okay. Well, we could play another round of- Ah!" Daphne's face fell, and she stood up from the couch in a hurry. "My cake! I forgot about my cake!"

The young woman suddenly went running into the kitchen, leaving a rather startled Astoria sitting alone in the living room. As she considered it, she realized this was both a good and bad thing. On one hand, this would afford her the chance to dispose of the final intruder in their house, while on the other, Daphne could not be left alone in a kitchen for long without killing someone or herself. That frightened Astoria greatly, so she would have to make this quick.

Astoria frowned internally as she felt around spiritually for the presence of the third intruder. Unlike the other two, this one seemed to be masked in some way. It wouldn't be difficult for her to find him regardless, but it would leave Daphne unattended for more time than Astoria felt comfortable wi-

"Ah-ha! Got you!"

In her distraction, Astoria didn't even notice the man behind her until he wrapped his hands around her mouth. His wand was already pointed at her head, ready to cast.

Thwak!

But then the man's hands slackened around her mouth, and he fell backwards with a loud thud.

A few seconds later, Daphne ran in.

"Ah!" she screamed, looking around. "Astoria, are you okay!? I was chopping chocolate again when I lost my grip on the knife!"

Astoria blinked a few times, and then peeked behind the couch. She turned back around and shot Daphne a thumbs up. She hoped this effectively conveyed 'everything is fine here and you definitely didn't accidentally throw a knife into someone's head'. It seemed to, as Daphne let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, phew. I really have to be more careful when I'm using sharp objects…"

As Daphne headed back into the kitchen without even remembering to figure out where her stray knife went, Astoria vanished the evidence of her sister's aggressive and accidental home defense strategy with a flash of her eyes. This wasn't the ending she was expecting, but all was well that ended in hell for her enemies, so Astoria brushed off her little yellow sundress and skipped back into the kitchen to watch over Daphne as she finished making her cake.

Back on the couch, and unbeknownst to anyone else in the house, Astoria's brown puppy dog doll let out a little burp.

Chapter Text

"I'm…I'm so sorry!" Daphne screamed. "I made a cake and then I made icing but then the oven broke so I put the icing in the microwave but then it exploded and then-"

Harry paused for a moment, stared at his wife, and then bent down to take his work shoes off.

"-and now there's chocolate on the wall which I scraped off with a spatula but then the paint came off with the chocolate so I had to start over again and then-"

Still listening to Daphne's story, Harry set his briefcase down, removed his coat, and hung up his hat.

"-until I ran out of chocolate so I climbed a tree but there was no chocolate in the tree so I phoned a friend and she made me feel really stupid about climbing the tree-"

Harry closed the front door, gently led Daphne to the living room, and sat down on the couch.

"-and then I put the icing in the microwave again and it exploded again-"

"Okay, Daphne, stop," Harry said, finally putting an end to the girl's constant stream of word salad. Daphne's face was starting to get pretty red, and Harry was worried she was forgoing breath in favor of…whatever it was she was saying.

"Stop what?" she asked, looking up at him with big blue eyes that seemed on the verge of tears. "Stop our marriage?"

"What? No. Why would you think that's what I meant?"

Daphne blinked. "Because I lost my job and I tried to make a cake so that you wouldn't dump me but then I put the icing in the microwave and it explo-"

"No, please, it's okay," Harry protested, not wanting his wife to stop breathing again. "Let's just take a step back, alright?" Daphne nodded and inhaled, so he continued. "I would never dump you for losing your job. It would make me a horrible person to even consider it, and I hope I haven't done anything to make you think I'm a horrible person."

She stared at the ground. "No, you haven't, I'm just insecure sometimes…"

"That's okay, Daphne." He took her hands in his and faced her seriously. "But I want you to know that I don't think any differently of you just because you lost your job. I never would. And while I appreciate the effort you made in trying to bake me a cake, you also don't have to feel like you need to earn your keep here. We're a family now, and families aren't like that – at least not the one I want to have with you. Does that make sense?"

Daphne nodded softly, and used Harry's hand to wipe a stray tear from her eye.

"And speaking of family," Harry continued, "where was Kreacher during all of this?"

Right on cue, the old house elf popped into existence beside Harry. He glanced around sheepishly while looking entirely unsheepish.

"There were all kinds of crazy things going on in the house today, and Kreacher wanted nothing to do with any of them," Kreacher said. "Sorry not sorry."

With a snap of his fingers, the little elf disappeared again.

Harry sighed and returned his gaze to Daphne. "Alright, well Kreacher just volunteered to clean the kitchen, so don't worry about that. In the meantime, why don't you show me the cake you made?"

Daphne blinked up at him nervously. "Are you sure? I don't think it turned out very well…"

"I'm hungry, and there's no point wasting food. If it's even halfway edible, I'll be happy to eat it."

Daphne's eyes lit up like he had just promised her the world, and Harry was instantly glad for his corny line. If that smile was his reward for forcing down Daphne's Disastrous Dessert, he'd take it like a man.

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you…"

He followed her into the kitchen, noting the streaks of chocolate on the wall in the hallway outside. There was also some paint on the floor, and through the window, he was pretty sure he could see that a branch had broken in the old oak tree outside.

"Like I said, it's not perfect, but I don't think it'll kill you," Daphne said, stopping just inside the kitchen. She held out both hands towards the cake on the table as Harry walked in. "Um, but if you don't want to eat it, I won't blame you…"

Harry very nearly tripped and fell flat on his face as he laid eyes upon the cake.

"You…you made that?" he said, recovering his balance.

"Yeah…"

"Really?"

She glanced over at him. "Is it that bad?"

"No. No, it's…beautiful, actually."

The cake was an elegant three-tiered affair with blue and silver embellishments over a white base. There were little sprinkles scattered around the edges making a pretty design, and the word 'SORRY' was printed in gorgeous calligraphy on the top. It would've looked out of place in a professional bakery only because the cake was simply too pretty to be real. Harry almost believed it was some strange piece of magic himself.

"You really think so?" Daphne asked.

From any other person, Harry would've thought the modesty was false, but a few days with Daphne had taught him that the girl's self esteem was disastrously low. If she thought that cake 'didn't turn out very well', she needed serious help. Which, Harry decided, would probably be his duty to provide.

"Alright, first of all, yes – that's literally the most beautiful cake I've ever seen in my life. But more importantly, when did you learn to bake like this? How did you learn to bake like this? Or better yet, how could anyone possibly learn to bake like this?"

Daphne stared at him blankly.

"What? Learn?" she repeated. "I've never tried baking until today…"

Harry's jaw dropped. "This was your first time baking!?"

"Yep! It was fun, but I didn't really know what I was doing. Maybe next time I'll follow a recipe…"

"You didn't even follow a recipe!?"

Daphne jumped a little in surprise as Harry shouted.

"Eep!" she shrieked. "No! I didn't know where to look so I just kind of improvised!"

Harry shook his head and rubbed his temples. Either Daphne was a marvellous actor, or an unparalleled genius at baking. And considering how every emotion she felt seemed to show plainly on her face, he decided it was the latter.

"Well…I guess we should see if it tastes as good as it looks?" Harry said eventually.

It was almost a waste to eat a cake this pretty, but seeing it rot would be even worse. And besides, he was really curious to see if it tasted as good as it looked.

Agreeing, Daphne fumbled around and started looking for a knife. Harry stopped her and pulled out his wand instead. A few seconds later, two perfect slices floated onto plates and over to them.

"..."

Harry looked over at Daphne, but she was watching him, waiting for him to take the first bite. After one more moment's hesitation, he did.

Harry closed his eyes; in the end, the cake didn't taste as good as it looked.

It tasted much, much better.

There was an incredible depth of flavor in the pure white cake that belied its appearance, with a rich vanilla that held hints of custard. The exterior was made with a light frosting, nothing like the thick fondant that most designer cakes relied on, and far tastier too. Harry had lost some of his sweet tooth since relying primarily on Kreacher for sustenance, but it came back to him in a moment's bite of Daphne's cake. His slice was finished before he even noticed, and he greedily took a much larger piece the second time around.

"Hey, it's actually not bad!" Daphne remarked, breaking the silence as Harry gobbled his second slice of a cake like a starving street rat.

"It's far better than 'not bad'!" Harry protested rudely, his mouth still full of cake. He could've swallowed and then spoken, but that would've meant having to spend time without cake in his mouth, and that thought made Harry sad. "It's bloody delicious!"

"You really mean it?" Daphne asked, staring between him and the cake on her plate.

"Daphne, it's amazing. It…it makes me want to grow wings and float away like a little cake angel on the winds of bliss."

She giggled, which was a suitably sweet noise to match the cake in his mouth. And then she hugged him, which was a suitably sweet sensation to match the rest of it.

"You're exaggerating," she said. "But thank you."

"I'm not. This is incredible. You have a serious talent, Daphne." He finished his second slice of cake, debated going for a third, but then reluctantly decided he needed to have his mouth empty for this next part. "Which gives me an idea…"

"Oh?" Daphne raised her eyebrows and waited patiently for Harry to continue.

"Seeing as how we're both out of jobs, why don't we just say 'screw it' and start a bakery?"

Daphne's eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again.

"Wait, what?" she said. "You got fired too?"

Harry shook his head. "No. When I found out they fired you I quit."

"Oh..." Daphne fidgeted awkwardly. "You quit working for the ministry because they fired me…?"

Daphne didn't seem too happy about being the cause of Harry's resignation, but he shook his head again.

"Nah, I've been wanting to quit for the past year or so," he admitted. "I just used you as an excuse and took the opportunity to leave once and for all. I've been thinking I wanted to slow things down a bit anyway, maybe focus on my friends and family…"

"And start a bakery?"

Harry shrugged. "Only if you want to."

"Do you want to?"

He shrugged again. "It's always been a dream of mine, to be honest. And if I handle the business and you handle the baking, I think we might make a really good team…but as I said, it's only if you want. I just thought the timing worked out kind of interestingly, so it's something we could consider if-"

"Screw it," Daphne said.

"Huh?" Harry replied.

"You said 'why don't we just say 'screw it' and start a bakery'. I'm saying 'screw it'."

"So you want to start a bakery?"

Daphne nodded. "Screw it."

Despite the rush, and the absurdity of it all, Harry found himself getting excited. The last time he made an objectively terrible decision and jumped into something insanely complicated headfirst, he married a wonderful young woman named Daphne Greengrass. Why not do it again? And just like last time, he had a weirdly good feeling about this...

"But we'll need to come up with a name first," Daphne said eventually. "Any ideas?"

Harry smiled. As it just so happened, he did have an idea.

Chapter Text

Harry knocked on the door to Astoria's bedroom, though it was already open. The little blonde girl was sitting on the floor playing with her dolls, and she looked up as he came in.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked. She didn't reply, but she set her dolls down. "Did you kill someone today?"

Astoria glanced at the ceiling in a motion that could've been an eyeroll, and then went back to playing with her dolls. Harry sighed, having expected obstinance of this variety, and sat down on the floor with her.

"I'm not saying you can't kill people," he clarified, absentmindedly picking up one of the dolls on the floor around her. "I trust you wouldn't do anything like that without good reason. But I'd still like you to tell me when you do, because then I won't have to wonder where the scent of death in the house came from."

Astoria blinked up at him with those adorably blue eyes of hers, and they flashed momentarily a rather unadorable shade of red. She didn't like being told what to do, and this new brother-in-law of hers was getting too bossy.

"...!"

Harry startled for a moment, but he didn't back down. He returned the little girl's glare with a ferocious look of his own, bright emerald orbs glowing like two radioactive limes and just as deadly.

"...!"

This time it was Astoria's turn to startle; no one had ever met her eyes without averting them before. Redoubling her efforts, she narrowed her tiny little eyelids, turning her crimson peepers into bloody slits.

"...!"

Astoria's gaze was intense, and Harry almost blinked, but he resisted the urge. He wouldn't blink until she did, and she didn't look like she was going to blink any time soon. Instead, he turned things up a notch and widened his eyes so that his entire radiant iris was in view.

"...!"

Astoria almost blinked as two eyes as bright and powerful as neutron stars beamed rays of intimidation at her. She had been underestimating her newest family member until now, and would begrudgingly give him respect after this showing. She would not, however, back down. She was Astoria Greengrass. And Astoria Greengrass did not back down to anyone.

"...!"

As a wave of deadly energy that dwarfed Voldemort's killing intent like a dandelion amongst embolotheriums hit Harry, he almost pulled out his wand to defend himself. But he kept his cool, because there was no eldritch void creature before him; it was simply his miniature sister-in-law. His incredibly cute, incredibly dangerous, and possibly homicidal miniature sister-in-law.

After another few seconds of staring, Harry sighed. He didn't want to have to do this.

He really didn't want to have to do this.

…But he had to do it anyway.

Harry slackened his gaze, fixing Astoria with a suave, bored, and aloof expression. He channeled the ancient hereditary power of the Potter-Black-Peverell-Slytherin-Gryffindor lordship bloodline, and his eyes immediately beamed with a light that could single-handedly wipe out the entire planet, no stones needed. If a basilisk met his gaze right now, the basilisk would become petrified.

"Meep!"

Astoria squeaked, averting her eyes. This was no ordinary man; this was a man whose very existence demanded a harem. In fact, despite being barely a half-decade old, Astoria felt like she could've been written into his harem, given the moral standards of some people out there.

But while she averted her eyes, Astoria did not blink. She would not lose this easily.

Whipping her head back around to face Harry, Astor-

"Hey, what are you guys doing?"

Both Harry and Astoria turned to the door, where a rather distraught Daphne stood. Her big blue eyes were wet and watery.

"You're…you're playing without me?" A single tear fell down Daphne's cheek. "I was setting up cards in the living room so we could all play Go Fish together, but then no one came down to play with me…"

Harry and Astoria shared a glance, and then hung their heads in shame.

"I started playing by myself, and I still somehow lost," Daphne choked out. She wiped another tear off her cheek. "But you guys were up here having fun by yourselves…I feel so stupid, and so betrayed..."

Daphne started to cry more honestly now, and both Harry and Astoria blinked their dry eyes rapidly, unable to face the true matriarch of the household. Astoria ran headfirst into Daphne's leg and clutched it, while Harry aimed higher and embraced her torso.

"I'm sorry, Daphne!" Harry squeaked, and Astoria nodded into her thigh, rubbing her cheek on her jeans. "We weren't playing…we were just discussing how badly we wanted to go downstairs and play with you!"

Daphne sniffled. "Really?"

Harry hated lying, especially to his wife, but sometimes you had to make moral concessions for laurel gains.

"Yes..." he managed, to which Astoria nodded her fervent agreement.

Daphne wiped the rest of her tears away and smiled. The expression was a little clumsy but totally adorable, and both Harry and Astoria averted their eyes and blinked in shame. They would try their hardest to ensure they never made Daphne sad ever again.

"Okay, yay!" the girl said, taking Harry and Astoria by the hands and leading them back down the stairs. "The cards are all set up, so let's go play now! Hmmm…maybe I'll even win this time!"

Daphne did not, in fact, win this time; she lost all ten rounds of Go Fish in a row.

And yet, for some reason, both Harry and Astoria were under the impression that Daphne was the true winner today.

Chapter Text

"So…a bakery, huh?"

"Yup."

"Neat."

"Yup."

Ronald Bilius Weasley took another bite out of his cookie. As befit one of Harry's oldest friends, he was one of the first to show up at Harry's newest business venture. He wasn't the last, however, as a bakery owned by Harry Potter in the middle of Diagon Alley drew a crowd that only a bakery owned by Harry Potter in the middle of Diagon Alley could draw.

"And how about that name?" Ron said, gesturing to the sign that hung above the bakery. "Pretty inspired, not gonna lie."

Harry glanced up at the facade of his own small business. While he and Ron stood outside eating cookies, a line streamed through the door, waiting to be served.

'The Chamber of Sweetcrets'

Harry turned back to Ron.

"At first, we wanted to name the bakery 'Screw It'," he said. "But kids walk down this street, so we were told to think of something else."

Ron nodded sagely. "Makes sense. Plus, if you ever started serving donuts, people might've gotten the wrong idea about what kind of shop you were."

"Er…I suppose so. I hadn't really thought of that."

Ron took another bite out of his cookie. He'd taken the first three cookies at a much faster clip, but his stomach was starting to slow him down by now.

"So why'd you open on Diagon Alley, anyway?" he asked as he chewed. "Figure you're limiting your customer base more over here than on a muggle street."

Harry shrugged. "We considered going the muggle route, but the paperwork was a mess. We would've needed licenses, and been subject to inspections, and all sorts of other stuff. Meanwhile, the wizarding world doesn't really seem to care about any of that."

Ron nodded again. "Makes sense, makes sense."

They stood in silence for a while after that, watching from outside the bakery's glass windows as Daphne and Astoria ran around tending to customers. Luckily, they had made enough sweets to ensure supply wasn't an issue, but the two girls still had their hands full with the clients.

"Reckon we should go help them?" Ron asked, watching Daphne accept a silver coin from a man and give him a gold one as change.

"Nah," Harry said, shaking his head. "I've tried five times already, but Daphne really wants to get through the first day on her own. She says she needs the practice."

The man gave the gold coin back to Daphne and said a few words they couldn't hear. Daphne blushed, and then handed him a few copper ones instead.

"Right," Ron said. "Makes sense, makes sense."

They stepped out of the way as the man came out of the bakery with a cake box, and Harry nodded politely to him as he passed. Daphne started speaking to the next person in line, and the queue that snaked out of the front door shuffled slightly further in.

As Daphne took everyone's order and wrote up bills, Astoria packaged the sweets. She had a pair of tongs in one hand and a cake spatula in the other, and was furiously boxing orders as they came in. The girl looked adorable – and rather hilarious – with a single bead of sweat dripping down her tiny little forehead as she hustled, but otherwise she kept up respectably. Harry knew she could've packaged all of the cakes with ease if she just used her magic, but Daphne was standing right beside her and apparently that secret wasn't ready to be revealed quite yet.

"And that's your new kid, huh?" Ron said, pointing out Astoria.

"I guess," Harry replied, following his finger. "But she's definitely more of a little sister than a kid, because she's pretty independent despite her age. She's also fun to have around the house, and doesn't cause too much trouble. Er…most of the time, anyway."

Ron watched as Astoria tied a neat little bow on a box and handed it to a customer. The customer frowned as she received it, and gestured rudely to the bow. They couldn't hear what she was saying from outside of the bakery, but she was clearly displeased.

"Looks like someone is unimpressed with Astoria's work," Ron observed. "Should we step in?"

"Nah," Harry said. "Just watch."

Doing as he was told, Ron diligently watched Astoria. The little girl peeked over at Daphne, decided she was sufficiently distracted, and then turned back to the customer. Her eyes flashed red, and the little bow unraveled itself, slithering around the box like a snake. Startled, the customer tried to drop the box, but the bow-snake held onto it with one end of its body, sliding up the customer's arm with the other. It then coiled gently around the customer's neck and gave a playful squeeze before slithering back down into position on top of the box.

The customer tossed a handful of coins on the table in front of Daphne and ran screaming out of the bakery.

"Cute kid," Ron said to Harry, stepping aside as the customer ran past them. "But I think she might've lost you a customer."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, but we didn't need a customer that gives grief to a six-year-old anyway."

"Makes sense, makes sense."

They went back to watching over the bakery, and soon enough, Daphne and Astoria broke through the morning rush. The initial torrent of customers was now a steady trickle, and Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Despite his general state of nonchalance since the war, he'd been rather anxious about this new business venture. Trailed by Ron, he took the opportunity to head back into the bakery.

"Harry!" Daphne smiled as the door gave a little jingle. "Did you see? I did it! All by myself!"

"I did, Daph-"

Harry was already beginning to congratulate her when a cake spatula hit the floor with a loud clatter. They all turned to see Astoria staring up at Daphne, her eye twitching.

"Which is to say, the Greengrass sisters did it all by themselves!" Daphne corrected, taking up position behind Astoria and putting her arms around her.

They'd done a great job indeed, and Harry told them both as much, giving Astoria a congratulatory pat on the head. He intended to put his own hours in behind the counter eventually, but for now this was fine.

"In fact, we might not even need your help at all!" Daphne continued after a moment, giving Harry pause. "You can just sit back and let us do the work from now on!"

"Er…" Harry liked Daphne's confidence, but knowing her as he did, he maintained some tentative reservations. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yep!" she chirped happily. "I'm a businesswoman! An entrepreneur! And definitely not a failure!"

Harry smiled, and from behind him, Ron laughed. It was hard to fault a girl who looked so proud of her own accomplishments, and she had worked really hard this morning.

"So I take it you were profitable, then?" Ron asked, stepping around Harry. "It seemed pretty busy from where I was standing."

"I think so!" Daphne replied. "Let me just check the logs."

She slipped back behind the counter while Astoria continued serving customers by herself; in only a few short hours the small child was becoming a highly proficient – though entirely silent – sales clerk. Daphne quickly added up all the numbers on her sheet and turned back to the boys.

"We made four hundred and fifty thousand dollars this morning!" she declared happily.

Harry and Ron stared at her open-mouthed, while Astoria nearly dropped her little spatula.

"No, wait." Daphne frowned, glancing back down at the paper. "Four dollars and fifty cents?"

Harry and Ron both closed their mouths and narrowed their eyes, while Astoria nearly dropped her little tongs.

"Wait, no," Daphne said. "We use galleons in the wizarding world. We made…no, we lost three hundred galleons?"

Harry joined Daphne by the counter and took a look at her sales logs. He stared at her calculations and rubbed his temples while she peeked sheepishly up at him.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked nervously.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, shaking his head. "I can't tell if you did something wrong, because I'm not sure what you were trying to do right in the first place…why is this paper just filled with lines?"

Daphne frowned and glanced back down at her sales logs. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I kept track of all the items we sold with a tally."

"We have almost a dozen different items at different prices."

"Yeah?" Daphne stared up at him, big blue eyes wide with confusion.

"How do we know what we've sold – or how much we've earned – if we only keep track of how many individual transactions we've made?"

Daphne bit her lip and furrowed her brows. "Trans…what?"

Harry sighed, putting his hands on Daphne's shoulders and giving them a squeeze. In his own weird little way, he was kind of happy that she still needed him for something.

"Don't worry about it," he said with a smile. "You stick to baking, and I'll deal with our finances from now on. Nothing wrong with sharing some of the work, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she sighed. "I was overzealous to think I could do it all on my own…"

"And you did a great job despite that," he said warmly. "But you and I, we're a team, so it's okay to lean on me when you need help…"

"Harry…"

From the corner, Astoria stared in open-mouthed shock at the two newlyweds, who were gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. She was carrying this entire operation on the flat part of her cake spatula, and she was only six years old. Where did her legal guardians get the idea that they were ever doing any part of this by themselves?

Sighing internally, Astoria turned back around and served the next customer in line. Daphne had been happy lately; an expression that she hadn't often seen on her sister's face since their parents left. So Astoria swallowed her sorrows and kept voicing her criminally underappreciated contributions to herself.

Meanwhile, Ron stood around awkwardly, observing the odd family dynamic and wondering if he should say bye or just silently make his exit.

"Well, at least Harry seems to be doing well," he muttered as he chose the latter.

Chapter Text

When Daphne Greengrass left Hogwarts at the end of her sixth year to take care of Astoria, not many students cared. Sure, some of the boys missed the eye candy, and some of the girls missed a peer they could count on to make them feel better about their grades, but ultimately, no one cried.

Except for one person, that is.

"Daphneeeee!" Tracey blubbered through her tears. "I missed you sooooo much!"

Daphne gently patted the girl's head as they made a big scene in the middle of the coffee shop they were in. The two had planned to meet there—as Tracey had just recently arrived back in Britain—but neither girl had anticipated the emotional outburst that would ensue once they met up. Tracey seemed oblivious to the stares of the patrons around her, while Daphne was aware of them yet entirely unaffected; Daphne had long since unlearned shame.

"I missed you too, Tracey," she said calmly, stroking the girl's messy brown hair. "You look well – I take it France treated you well?"

Tracey nodded into Daphne's chest and mumbled something unintelligible. She had left Hogwarts at the same time as Daphne—though, unlike Daphne, it was because her parents had transferred her to Beauxbatons in fear of her safety—and had pursued higher education in France before returning to Britain.

"Oh, Daphne," Tracey said, finally pulling herself out of the other girl's deceptively encompassing bosom. "France was great. I thought I had so much to tell you, but then I came back here and everyone was talking about how you started a bakery and got married and had a child and stuff!"

Daphne's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, I had a child?"

"Wait, you didn't?"

"Um…I don't think so? Unless the stork came this morning after I left."

Tracey blinked, staring up at Daphne. A moment later, she realized Daphne was joking and laughed.

"Oh Daphne," she said fondly. "I'm glad you haven't changed too much."

Confused, but no more than usual, Daphne shrugged off Tracey's mysterious comments and led her to an area towards the back of the coffee shop where they could talk undisturbed.

"So the bakery part and the marriage part was right, right?" Tracey said as they sat.

"What?" Daphne replied, because repeated words in sentences sometimes threw her off.

"You did start a bakery, and you did get married?" Tracey repeated, but slower.

"Oh. Yes, to both of those. Harry Potter proposed to me last week, I moved in with him a few hours later, and then we started a bakery together a few days ago. It's going well. Both the bakery and the marriage, that is."

Tracey's eyes widened in shock. "Phew! You're taking things fast. Are you sure there isn't a baby on the way?"

The words were meant in jest, but Daphne seemed to seriously consider them, which caused Tracey's eyes to open even wider.

"I suppose there technically could be," Daphne admitted eventually, staring down at her stomach.

"Wait, really!?"

Daphne nodded. "I'm not against the idea, so I've just been going with the flow…"

Tracey blinked several times in rapid succession, adjusting her position on the armchair as she reeled from that revelation. The Daphne she remembered from Hogwarts was positively innocent; a pure snowflake so white that she sometimes hurt the eyes to look at.

"I guess people can change," she mumbled, looking up once more at the pretty young woman she once knew so well. "I'm glad you've grown up, in a way, but another part of it makes me kind of sad. You were so cute back then, the way you were totally oblivious to anything dirty…"

Daphne blushed. "That was when I was a kid, Tracey. Lately, I've become, um…an experienced woman."

"Eek!" Tracey squeaked and glanced around conspicuously. "So then…you've really done it with Harry already?"

It wouldn't be entirely surprising, seeing as how they were already married, but this was Daphne they were talking about, so Tracey wanted to confirm there wasn't some horrible misunderstanding at play here.

"We have," Daphne said, blushing deeper. "A lot, actually…"

Tracey's jaw dropped. "As in, done the dirty? Gone all the way?"

Daphne nodded again, averting her gaze. Tracey wasn't sure why this fact was shocking her so much, but it was.

"We were taking things slow at first, but then one night, desire took hold," Daphne said, still blushing. "After that, we couldn't stop. Now we do it everywhere. On the couch, at the dinner table, in the hallway…even in front of my little sister."

"In front of your little sister!?" Tracey exclaimed.

Daphne nodded shamefully. "And the house elf, too…"

"Even the house elf!?"

Tracey had heard of this before. Occasionally, a young person would go through their adolescent 'wild phase' much later in life. This happened most often in cases where the person's childhood was stunted in some way; for example, being forced to drop out of school and take care of a baby sister. So while it wasn't entirely unexpected that the once-innocent Daphne was now something of an extreme deviant, it was still a little startling.

"I know it's kind of inappropriate, but it makes me so happy, and we just can't stop ourselves," she said. "We even do it in public sometimes."

"Daphne…" Tracey still loved her friend, but she would need some time to get over this. "I…I don't know what to say. I know it's not my place to interfere, but…"

"Oh, it's fine," Daphne said, smiling fondly at her oldest – and possibly only – friend. "It's not that big of a deal. I mean, I've done it with my sister, too." Tracey's jaw hit the floor, and Daphne tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Though, of course it's a lot different when it's with Harry…"

Daphne continued to speak about something or other, but Tracey was no longer listening. Even now, she still considered Daphne her friend, and thus considered it her responsibility to help her out of whatever early-life crisis was causing her to behave so immorally.

"I even did it with the neighbor's dog once. He was so cute, and it honestly made me want to get a dog for myself…"

But Tracey would help Daphne later. For now, she needed to go home, take a cold shower, and reorganize her troubled thoughts. Daphne clearly needed some serious help, and Tracey would need to approach it delicately and methodically.

"Right, sorry," Tracey said, cutting Daphne off as she talked about the merits of possibly getting a cat instead. "It's been fun catching up, but I just remembered I have somewhere to be in about five minutes, so I've got to run." As Tracey stood to leave, she turned back around to face Daphne with a serious expression. "But I will see you in a few days, okay? I promise I'll figure out how to help you…even if it's the last thing I do."

Daphne tilted her head quizzically. "Help me get a pet?"

"No…er, yeah. Sure. Something like that," Tracey lied, already planning the intervention. "See you!"

The girl threw some money down on the counter of the coffee shop and then all but sprinted out of the place. Daphne watched her go, happy to have seen her old friend but still intensely confused as to her sudden departure and promise for later help. It seemed to have gone downhill when she confessed to kissing Harry, but seriously, kissing wasn't that big of a deal, was it?

"Then what was that all about…?" Daphne wondered aloud.

Chapter Text

"Is something the matter?" Harry asked.

Daphne was staring into a small cardboard box; the remnants of what meager possessions she'd brought from her old house to her new one with Harry. She didn't have much, and she kept it stored away in their closet. Harry had never seen inside before, and hadn't thought to ask about it either.

"Not really," Daphne replied unconvincingly. "Just thinking about some things…"

She pulled a small toy out of the box and set the rest back down on the ground. It was a little stuffed bear, clearly of high quality. Unlike the patchy and obviously handmade dolls that Astoria often played with, this one sported the tag of a well-known toy maker in the wizarding world.

"Is that one of yours?" Harry asked, bending down to Daphne's level on the floor.

"Yeah," she replied. "The only one, actually. My parents gave me Namzy when I turned six, and well, that was more or less the last time we ever celebrated my birthday…"

"Oh."

Daphne forced a smile that was very nearly believable and looked up at him. "Sorry, it's weird to hold on to a stuffed animal at my age, isn't it?"

"I don't think so," he said honestly. "I'm just surprised that you'd want to. After, well…you know."

"After my parents abandoned us?" she asked.

Harry nodded a little uncomfortably. Daphne didn't seem to mind bringing it up, but he still wasn't sure how to handle the subject with her.

"That's the part I find strange too," she admitted. "I think I should probably hate my parents for leaving, but I don't know that I do. Mostly, when I think of them, I feel guilt and regret. Maybe there's a bit of resentment in there too, but it's mixed with so many other things that it's hard to focus…"

Daphne trailed off, staring at the toy once more. She moved Namzy's arms so that he was waving at Harry, which was kind of cute but also a little sad. After waving back, Harry took Namzy out of Daphne's hands and put him back in the box.

"It's not your fault, you know," he said, closing the closet door.

Daphne smiled softly. "Thanks, Harry. But sometimes I just wonder if things would've been different if I were a little bit smarter. My parents were always so disappointed in me, and then they pinned all their hopes on Astoria. When she turned out a little…different, it was only natural they gave up on us entirely."

"If we had kids, and they turned out a little different, would you give up on them?" Harry asked.

Daphne's eyes widened like she'd just been struck. "Of course not! Everyone deserves the chance to love and be loved. Even if no one else in the world stood by my children, I'd make sure to be there standing extra tall so they always felt supported. Did you really think I wouldn't?"

Harry smiled and put his hand on top of Daphne's. "No. I knew you would," he said. "And I'd do the same, for the record, so don't worry about standing extra tall or whatever. But if we can agree that we'd love our kids no matter what, why do you think it's normal that your parents didn't?"

Daphne shrugged. "Maybe I'm just that stupid…"

Harry swatted Daphne's hand and she yelped, mostly in surprise.

"Ouch!" she said. "What was that for?"

"For insulting my wife," he said. "She's important to me, so tread carefully." Daphne started to smile a bit even as she rubbed her hand, and Harry continued. "But seriously, I don't ever want to hear you call yourself stupid again. Long before I came along, you were taking care of your baby sister and working a full-time job to support both her and yourself. You kept your chin up through it all, and now you're running your own bakery on Diagon Alley. It doesn't matter if you're bad at math, or learning spells, or whatever—you're not stupid. There's more than one stick to measure things."

"And what stick should I get measured with?"

"Whichever one measures how much you're loved," Harry said. "Between me and Astoria, you'll be hard pressed to find anyone who can beat you."

Daphne laughed. "That's cute. But it doesn't have anything to do with my intelligence though."

"Well, I guess…but you noticed, right? That's got to count for something."

Daphne laughed again, and Harry was relieved to notice that her expression was starting to clear up a bit. Despite her generally aloof nature, Daphne had some understandable baggage from her childhood and the premature way in which it ended. It would take time to rid her of it completely, but Harry had some baggage too, and they were both in it for the long haul.

"Oh…and Harry?" Daphne said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Will you promise to love Astoria for me? My biggest regret in all this is that she'll never get to experience a proper family. So even if it's a weird thing to ask, I'd be really grateful if you could keep treating her like she's part of yours."

"Isn't she?" Harry asked. "I mean, I married you, and she's your sister. Sister-in-law's might not mean much to some people, but I'm growing quite fond of that little dem-" Harry cleared his throat, "that little girl," he corrected. "She's as much a part of my family as you are. And besides, proper families are overrated…er, not that I'd know."

Daphne considered him for a time. "Hm…I guess you're right," she said eventually. "We're all a little broken. Love's all that matters in the end, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Exactly. As long as we have love, we-"

His words were cut off as Daphne suddenly slapped the back of his hand.

"Ouch!" he said, more surprised than in pain. "Why'd you hit me? What was that for?"

"Revenge," Daphne replied, slowly breaking out into a smirk. "Other than love, that's the only other thing that matters."

Harry rubbed his hand and shot his wife a betrayed look, even though he totally deserved that. He then wondered—for the very first time—if Daphne didn't have slightly more in common with Astoria than he originally thought.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter sat at the back of the Transfiguration classroom, glancing sidelong at the girl to his left. She was sitting at the first table across the row from him, and while he couldn't quite see the paper in her hands, he could identify the smile on her face. Daphne Greengrass was a very pretty girl when she smiled.

She set the paper down on her desk after staring at it for a few more moments, and Harry saw the grade marked in red at the top as she did.

100

Harry nodded, having expected as much. Daphne was one of those girls that could do everything. She got impeccable grades, and she looked great doing it. The golden girl of Sly-

"No, no, no," Daphne said. "I remember that day. It wasn't a '100', it was a '1'. You must've misread my paper."

Harry stared at her slackjawed. That made so much more sense given what he knew about Daphne now, but still seemed unbelievable in a way.

"Then why were you smiling…?" he asked.

"That was the highest grade I'd gotten all year."

They both stared at each other blankly for a few moments until Daphne's expression faltered.

"What?" she asked. "Is something the matter?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to tell her what he was really thinking. He'd had a boyish crush on Daphne when he was younger, and he'd been rather under the illusion that she was an excellent student. He'd long since learned how wrong that assumption was, and he loved Daphne anyway, but a part of him still felt bad for the Harry of the past that had been so incredibly misguided.

"Then…what about that other time?" Harry asked.

"What other time?" Daphne replied.

"You know, that time where…"

"Miss Greengrass, can you tell me how to solve the problem on page 227 of your textbook?"

Daphne looked down at her Charms textbook, and then back up at Professor Flitwick. Despite the difficulty of the problem, her face remained impassive. Harry startled as she began to speak again without even looking down at the book.

"I can't solve that problem, Professor," she replied confidently. "It's impossible."

Flitwick chuckled. "Oh, well, it may seem that way at first. But I guarantee you…" He trailed off as he looked back down at the textbook in his own hands. "Hang on a second…you're right—the factorization produces an illegitimate number, so there's no solution to this problem! It's either a trick question, or more likely, an oversight in the textbook!"

The little man grumbled about money-grabbing publishers updating textbooks with faulty questions as Harry stared at Daphne in wonder. With barely a glance at the question, she had been able to deduce that it was unsolvable, and confidently contested the professor on it. She'd said it with no malice in her voice, just the cool calm confidence of a-

"No, I remember that too, it was a total coincidence," Daphne said. "The question was impossible for me to answer because I was still struggling with first year charms back then. Flitwick misunderstood and even thought I might be improving at Charms as a result…the confusion on his face when I still failed every test after that made me feel pretty guilty."

Harry's jaw clicked shut. That actually made a lot of sense. Still though, he mourned for the Harry that had idolized Daphne during their time at Hogwarts.

"Wait, so you were still struggling with first year charms in sixth year?" he asked.

Daphne's shoulders drooped. "I still struggle with them now…"

"Oh, hey…that's fine." Harry gave her hands a comforting squeeze. "You're an adult now, you don't need to be good at school anymore." It was a little concerning that Daphne couldn't handle first year charms as a fully grown adult witch, but not concerning enough to make her feel bad about it.

Daphne's shoulders straightened back up. "Yeah, that's right! I don't need to take exams anymore. I still have nightmares about them, though…"

"I have those too," he replied. "So don't worry about it."

They sat there for a while longer, reminiscing about their Hogwarts days, when another thought came to Harry.

"Wait, what about that time?" he asked.

"Which time?" she answered.

The sun was blazing high in the sky, and the warm classroom paired with Professor Binns' monotonous voice was putting all of the students to sleep.

All of them except for one, that is.

"Sorry sir, can you remind me which year the third goblin rebellion started?"

Amidst a sea of heads on desks, Daphne Greengrass sat with her back straight and her eyes focused. She was diligently taking notes on everything the deathly boring teacher said, and asking questions to stay engaged as well. It was impressive, but nothing Harry didn't already expect from the girl.

"Of course. The third goblin rebellion started in…"

Harry tuned out as Professor Binns continued his lecture, as really, all anyone needed to do to pass his class was skim a few books. Or, in his case, skim Hermione's notes. But he still respected Daphne for staying awake and aware during Binns' class, and the graceful way she took notes was enticing to watch. When he fell back asleep on his desk, the last thing he remembered seeing was her pretty hands moving across the pa-

"Oh, right," Daphne said. "History of Magic…I wasn't too bad at that, I guess."

"So you did well?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I still failed the class because I slept through my alarm on the morning of the final exam."

Harry stared at her. "You managed to stay awake during Binns' lectures but not through your alarm?"

"I was really stressed out back then. Things were going badly at home, and I wasn't getting much sleep…I finally passed out one morning, but then I didn't wake up until the exam was already over."

Harry shuffled over on the couch so he could give Daphne a hug. The girl didn't deserve to be cursed by whatever academic god had chosen her as their very favorite victim.

"Are you disappointed…?" she asked eventually. "That I wasn't as smart as you thought I was?"

He shook his head vehemently. "I had a crush on you back then because I thought you were smart, and I liked the way you looked in your robes. I was an idiot. Now I love you because of everything that you are, and everything that you bring to my life. If anything, I'm glad we only met as adults—it takes time to realize what traits really matter in a person."

Daphne cuddled into Harry's side. "Thanks," she said. "And for the record, I'm glad we met as adults too. When I was a teenager I thought you were an evil wizard sent by Dumbledore to kill the Slytherins and destroy magic as a whole."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that what your parents told you?"

She nodded, and they continued to hold each other on the couch for a while after that. Mostly in silence, but occasionally trading anecdotes from school. Eventually, Daphne's brain caught up to the words Harry had spoken several minutes earlier, and her eyes narrowed.

"Wait, you liked the way I looked in my robes?" she asked.

He shrugged. "There was something about the way they clung…"

"I think I still have them somewhere."

Harry inhaled sharply. If she was going with that where he thought she was going with that, he was…interested. Mostly out of curiosity, but also out of…interest.

"Are you…are you going to go get them?" he asked.

"Should I?"

Harry didn't want to say yes, but he also really wanted to say yes. It was a very particular conundrum.

"Kind of…" he admitted.

Daphne stood up and smiled. "Okay, then I'll go put them on. But we'll take the opportunity to do some learning at the same time—you'll pretend to be my teacher, and we'll go over first year charms."

Harry froze. "Wait, no. I'm going to feel really weird about this if we roleplay first year-"

But Daphne was already long gone, dashing up the stairs to fetch her old Hogwarts robes.

Chapter Text

"Master…must we really be forced to go through this abject pain and suffering every Sunday night?"

Harry glanced sternly down at Kreacher. "Yes. And you're going to like it."

"But Kreacher doesn't like it…"

"Then you'll pretend to like it."

Their conversation over, the two males of the Potter family walked into the dining room for dinner. Daphne was already there laying out trays of food on the table.

"Oh! You're just in time!" she exclaimed happily. "I've been cooking all day, and I just finished up now. Let's eat while it's still hot!"

Harry glanced at the food on the trays. "Er…right."

In the corner, Astoria was already consuming a stack of raw steaks at an incredible pace. She'd stretch her tiny little arms to the top of the pile, grab a slab of meat, and then gobble the entire thing in five bites like it was a cheeto. It was a testament to Harry's adaptability as a human that he was starting to find that quirk of hers kind of cute.

"Of course the demon child gets to eat steak," Kreacher muttered under his breath. "While we eat cr-" Harry flashed Kreacher his sock and the house elf promptly shut up.

It should be mentioned that Harry was no more a fan of this idea than Kreacher was. Daphne making the house meal on Sunday night was entirely at Daphne's request, as she wanted to feel more like she was contributing to the family. Despite Harry's insistence that she contributed enough as is, Daphne had held firm, and as such they were now entering their second Sunday eating one of Daphne's dinners.

And apparently, she cooked up the exact same thing she had cooked up last week.

"Like always, we have my famous boiled bean sprouts and peanut butter sandwiches," Daphne said, gesturing to the spread proudly. "But this week, I added a new menu item." She pointed to a covered dish that Harry hadn't noticed when he walked in. "Eggs!"

Daphne pulled the lid off the dish, and revealed…eggs?

Now, Kreacher was a skilled house elf. He knew every way to cook an egg. He knew that if you fried an egg until the whites were cooked, it was sunny side up. If you flipped it for a few seconds, it was over easy. A little while later it would become over medium, and if you let the yolk cook through, it was over hard. You could crack an egg into boiling water to get a poached egg. You could put the whole egg into water to get a soft boiled or hard boiled egg, depending on how long you cooked it. You could scramble the egg, or make some variety of omelette. Kreacher was familiar with all of these methods.

Having said that, he honestly had no clue what Daphne had done to make her eggs look like that.

"What is that!?" he screamed, not able to hold himself back.

"Those are eggs, silly," Daphne replied playfully. "They're full of protein and cholesterol and all sorts of other good stuff."

While Kreacher moaned and groaned and had a mini meltdown, Harry furrowed his brows. He too was puzzled over this new method of cooking eggs. He knew enough about his wife not to question it though; they'd probably be more palatable if he didn't know what went into them.

Daphne sat down to eat, and Harry followed suit, scooping bean sprouts and two peanut butter sandwiches onto his plate. While sort of boring, Daphne was capable of making those things without major catastrophe. The eggs he was less sure about however, so he took a modest spoonful and almost gagged when he saw them jiggle in a way he had never seen eggs jiggle before.

"How can someone be so good at baking and so bad at cooking?" Kreacher whispered to Harry as they both stared at the eggs.

"I don't know," Harry whispered back. "How can someone be so good at cooking and so bad at baking?"

Kreacher frowned, realizing the comment was directed at him. "Kreacher is not bad at baking. Kreacher is simply mediocre at baking."

"And Daphne's mediocre at cooking."

"What? No she's not. Have you seen those bloody eggs?"

It looked like Daphne was about to speak then, so they stopped whispering and turned their attention to her. She put her hands together demurely, and for the first time, Harry noticed the numerous band-aids covering her fingers.

"Before we eat, I just want to say how grateful I am to be here with all of you." Astoria stopped chomping her steaks for a second and looked sheepishly at Daphne. "A few weeks ago, when I was eating bean sprouts and peanut butter sandwiches alone in my apartment with Astoria, I never would've expected to be where I am today. I'm surrounded by family, and I'm even eating eggs, too." All three members of the family quickly glanced at the plate of jiggly horrors and then back at Daphne. "So…I just want to say thank you."

It was a nice thing to say, all things considered, and the idea that she had hurt her fingers while trying to make them dinner was kind of wholesome. Even though it was a little weird that an adult witch used band-aids instead of healing charms.

"Doesn't she know any healing charms?" Kreacher whispered, totally not reading the mood. "Wait, how did she even manage to cut herself in the first place? Nothing on this menu requires a kni-"

Harry kicked Kreacher under the table, because sometimes Kreacher needed a good kick. It wasn't really abuse, because Kreacher kicked Harry too.

"We should be thanking you too, Daphne," Harry said, ignoring the house elf. "Dinners were far less lively before you and Astoria joined the family."

Kreacher grumbled. "We were also far less likely to die while eat-"

Harry kicked Kreacher again and continued. "So let's enjoy this meal, and look forward to many more to come."

Daphne smiled and they all clinked glasses, except for Astoria who just stuck her hand out into the toast like it was a pep rally cheer. The three adults started on dinner and the kid went back to devouring raw steaks at an incredible clip.

"So what do you think?" Daphne asked after they took a few bites. "I did something different with the bean sprouts today."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You did?"

"Yeah…? Didn't you notice?"

He looked back down at the mushy lump of vegetables on his fork. Apart from the texture, it wasn't that bad, because it was literally just boiled bean sprouts. On the other hand, it tasted incredibly boring; exactly the same as the last time Daphne overcooked bean sprouts.

"Oh, yeah," Harry lied. "I do. They're…erm…a little softer today. Very nice."

Daphne beamed, and Harry gazed shamefully at his plate. He didn't have enough dating experience prior to Daphne to know how to tell a girl she was abysmal at cooking.

"Great!" she said. "They take a while to make, because I check each bean with a thermometer before serving to make sure it's safe to eat."

"What!?" Kreacher exclaimed, unable to contain himself. "You've got to be joking! It's a bloody bean sprout! There's an infant over here eating raw mea-"

Harry cut Kreacher off by embracing him in a hug, because he felt bad kicking him again and because Kreacher hated hugs more than anything else.

"Haha!" Harry said awkwardly, smiling at the confused Daphne. "Kreacher seems to be really impressed by your dedication to food safety."

Kreacher kicked and squirmed because he hated hugs and also because he felt the overpowering urge to yell at Daphne for checking the temperature of every individual bean sprout with a thermometer. Harry didn't let him go for both of these reasons. From the corner, Astoria watched on in amusement and continued consuming her bodyweight in meat.

Dinner went on like this for the next several minutes, until eventually Kreacher calmed down again. Despite everything, Daphne's peanut butter sandwiches were pretty good because she spread the peanut butter all the way to the edge of the crust, ensuring there were no dry spots. By the end of the meal, only the scary eggs remained on their plates.

"Aren't you going to try the eggs?" Daphne asked, even as Harry was pulling out his wand to vanish them.

"Er…" Harry put his wand back in his pocket, and Kreacher looked at him with a horrified look in his massive, round eyes. "Yeah. For sure."

Unable to shake Daphne's intense scrutiny, Harry was left with no choice but to scoop some of the jiggly mess onto his fork. Even without any movement from his part, the eggs jiggled as if they had a mind of their own. He nudged Kreacher and gestured for him to do the same.

"Come now, Kreacher," Harry said. "Don't be afraid."

Kreacher's long, painful life flashed before his eyes as he brought a conservative spoonful of eggy slop to his mouth. He cringed away as he got a scent of it and pulled the fork back.

"On three, Kreacher."

"Master, I do not want-"

"One."

"Master, please do not-"

"Two."

"Master, I'm giving my two weeks-"

"Three!"

Despite Kreacher's words, both of them brought the eggs to their mouths in one swift motion and swallowed.

Harry and Kreacher woke up a few seconds later, having blacked out the moment the eggs touched their tongues.

"Mmm," Harry said. "Delicious."

"Miam miam," Kreacher said, becoming French.

In the next moment, Daphne blinked, and both used the split-second opportunity to vanish the rest of the eggs from their plate. The mushy bean sprouts they could handle, but they'd have to do something over the course of the next week to make sure those eggs(?) never made a reappearance.

"Wow!" Daphne said, clapping. "You guys finished those eggs really fast! You must've really liked them."

Harry and Kreacher shared a glance, but Daphne was already standing. She disappeared into the kitchen and came out less than a minute later with yet another serving tray.

"That's not…that's not more eggs, is it?" Harry asked. Kreacher was already shaking his little head and muttering something that sounded like a prayer under his breath. Harry wanted to do the same.

"Nope! Sorry to disappoint you, but this is just dessert." Daphne unveiled the dish to reveal a gorgeous tiramisu dusted with cocoa powder and delicate chocolate tuiles. "This is a prototype for the bakery," she said. "I was hoping you'd be willing to try it."

Harry and Kreacher let out audible sighs of relief. Whatever could be said about Daphne, it couldn't be said that everything she baked wasn't delicious. They took large servings of the dessert and scarfed it down greedily, both grateful for the delicious treat and for something to wash the taste of 'egg' out of their mouth.

It was perfectly perfect, as could be expected from Daphne by now, and they each shamelessly took seconds. Even Kreacher, who didn't particularly like sweets, made an exception for Daphne's.

"Wait," the house elf said, realizing something a little belatedly and mid-bite. He turned to Harry. "How is she capable of whipping eggs into a tiramisu, but not cooking them in a-"

"Don't question it," Harry said, cutting him off and taking another bite of the tiramisu. "Just…don't question it."

Chapter Text

As Harry watched Daphne walk over to him in her new swimsuit, he was once again reminded precisely how much wife he had married. She was still conscious of her health, but a more complete diet had definitely helped Daphne fill out in all the ways a woman typically wanted to.

"What do you think?" she asked once she reached him, spinning around.

"I'm not capable of much thought at all right now," he replied honestly. She tilted her head in a comically puzzled expression, so he clarified. "Which is definitely a compliment."

"Oh?" Daphne laughed. "I guess that makes two of us."

Harry wasn't sure if she was referring to the sight of him in his swimsuit, or just her general state of being, so he decided to play it safe and just move past it.

"So why'd you want to come to the pool, anyway?" he asked. They took weekends off from the bakery to do fun things as a family, and this one had been Daphne's suggestion. "Do you like swimming or something?"

Daphne thought about it for a moment before nodding. "I'd say so," she replied. "It's fun to swim, but it's also a nice way to cool down during the summer. That first splash of cold water is so invigorating, don't you think?"

Harry shrugged, because to be totally honest, he wasn't much of a swimmer. Like Daphne, he'd had to go out of his way to buy a new swimsuit specifically for this occasion. But unlike Daphne, he didn't have financial struggles to blame for his lack of interest in going near the water until now.

"Yeah, I guess..." he replied noncommittally.

A short while later, the door to the changing room opened once more, and the second Greengrass girl walked out in her new swimsuit. This one, however, was still a small child, and infinitely more dangerous.

'Bleh…'

Though she didn't speak, Harry could practically see the 'bleh…' written in a big speech bubble above Astoria's head. Like most homicidal demon girls, this one apparently wasn't a huge fan of water. Her blue eyes darted around nervously as she walked over to where Harry and Daphne sat on chairs by the pool, and she flinched whenever she heard a splash from nearby.

"Oh, Astoria!" Daphne beamed, picking the girl up once she got a little closer. "You look just adorable in your new swimsuit!"

Astoria flailed her little arms ineffectually as Daphne embraced her, because she felt incredibly exposed to an attack while being smothered by her old sister's ample body like this. As it was, the pool was a dangerous place for a little girl like Astoria. If her interdimensional enemies wanted to strike at her, this was their best chance.

"Well, why don't we all go swimming?" Daphne asked, putting Astoria back down. "There's a wading pool over there, or we could go straight to the lanes." Daphne pointed to something in the distance. "Oh! Or we could try the diving boards!"

Harry laughed nervously and adjusted his position on the plastic pool chair. He'd suggested this pool specifically because it had things like plastic pool chairs.

"Actually, I think I'll stay here," he said, glancing hesitantly at the water. "But you two go have fun. I'll be here when you're ready to leave."

Astoria nodded her agreement, and promptly hopped up onto Harry's lap. It was a testament to their growing bond that she no longer felt the need to watch her back around him, and they both got comfortable as they prepared to spend their entire afternoon relaxing in the chair together.

"What…?" Daphne's big blue eyes got wet and watery, and the two relaxers immediately saw their plan crumble to pieces. "You guys are going to make me swim by myself?" A single tear fell down Daphne's cheek. "I…I didn't realize you both hated swimming. Otherwise I wouldn't have asked to go to a pool, because now I feel totally selfish…" Daphne hung her head. "Maybe we should just go home…"

In that moment, and unbeknownst to either adult, Astoria's baby blue eyes flashed red and suddenly Harry was being launched out of the chair and into the pool with a loud splash. Astoria herself fell a short distance down onto the chair that was previously being occupied by the two of them, and wriggled around to get comfortable again. The hard seat wasn't as plush as the human pillow she had just moments before, but alas, Harry's time as a living sacrifice had come.

"Harry…?" Daphne raised her head and turned around, searching for the husband she had been expecting to see on the pool chair. When she saw him flailing about in the water behind her instead, she beamed. "Oh! So you wanted to swim after all?"

The sadness was gone from her face, replaced by a wide smile that Harry was entirely incapable of saying 'no' to. So he just nodded, and settled on shooting a scathing glare in Astoria's direction. Her little face was unreadable, but he thought he could detect some smugness there.

"And I thought we were a family," he muttered under his breath.

Astoria ignored him, procured a pair of sunglasses from seemingly nowhere, and prepared to spend a peaceful afternoon relaxing by the pool.

"Blublublub!" Harry swallowed an unhealthy amount of pool water as he tried to swim. "Blublublublub!"

Daphne was holding his hands, keeping him steady while his legs kicked behind him. It was painful and he hated it, but the loving gaze of his wife kept him going.

"You should've told me you didn't know how to swim," she said, pulling him up as they finally took a break. "We could've gone to a smaller pool, or maybe somewhere with group lessons."

Harry took a few seconds to recover his breath and shook his head. "I know how to swim. I just have trauma, because every time I'm in the water something's trying to kill me."

Daphne's eyes widened. "Really?"

He shrugged. "I've had a colorful past. Now whenever I get into water my heart starts to race and my limbs flail uncontrollably."

"Oh, you poor thing." Daphne pulled Harry's hands into her chest, and he floated into an impressively smothering hug. "I think it's wonderful that you're facing your fears, but if it ever gets to be too much you can let me know, okay?"

He nodded, and she let him go. As much as he'd have liked to stay in her arms forever, it was a bit awkward because they were in the children's section of the pool, where the water was so shallow that even Harry could manage it.

"So when did you learn to swim?" he asked, trying to delay the moment when he was forced to go back underwater again. "I can't imagine you've had the chance to practice much lately."

"Oh." Daphne laughed self-depracatingly. "When I was younger, the other kids in my neighborhood would bully me and throw me in the lake behind my parent's house. It was a game they liked to play called 'Dunk the Daphne'."

Harry stared back at her with one of those expressions he reserved exclusively for when Daphne dropped a depressing anecdotal bombshell on him.

"What?"

"Yeah," she replied, staring wistfully into the water. "I got pretty good at swimming because I had to dodge the stones they threw at me…"

"The stones!?" Harry sometimes wondered if Daphne's life was a tragedy or a dark comedy. "The neighborhood kids threw stones at you!?"

"Sometimes. But sometimes they just stood threateningly on the shoreline and forced me to tread water until I was so tired I thought I might drown."

Reassessing, Harry decided Daphne's life was both a tragedy and a dark comedy, and there was also a bit of survival horror thrown in there for good measure. He wished, not for the first time, that he'd met Daphne earlier; he would've liked to have a nice long talk with her, and an even longer one with her bullies.

"You're making me feel like a baby for being afraid of the water," he said. "You have just as much reason to avoid it as I do..."

Daphne smiled. "Nah, you're allowed to be a baby with me if you want." She pulled him in a little closer, but not quite into a hug. "The reason it's less scary is because we're in it together, and we're in it together to make things less scary—not just the pool, but everything else, too!"

"Hm. That's true, isn't it…?"

Despite her occasional bout of airheadedness, Daphne said some truly wonderful things sometimes. And those little moments always served to remind Harry that intelligence took more forms than simply being good at studying or magic.

"I'm so glad I married you," he said eventually, giving her the deepest kiss he felt comfortable giving her in the kiddie section of a public pool.

"Aw, that's sweet of you." Daphne blushed. "I'm glad I married you too."

They kissed again, but this time they noticed they were drawing strange looks from both the poolgoers and the lifeguard, so they separated again quickly.

"Er…I guess we should get back to swimming," Harry said awkwardly.

Daphne's blush deepened. "Right…"

While Daphne and Harry shared their tender moment in the pool, Astoria was engaged in a rather heated standoff on the sidelines. Some uppity little brat around her age was staring at her, smirking and dipping her feet in the water as if daring Astoria to do the same. Astoria took off her little sunglasses and glared at the kid.

"Heh," the kid said, totally unfazed, continuing to dunk her tiny toes in the water.

Astoria glared some more because she was the world's most dangerous infant and she was not about to get mogged by some random kid at the local swimming pool. If she needed to give this kid nightmares for the rest of its miserable existence, she would do it.

"..."

In response to Astoria's death stare, the kid blew a raspberry at her and stuck her whole foot in the water. She kicked it out again a moment later in Astoria's direction, and the littlest Greengrass flinched even though the water landed several meters away from her.

"Heh," the kid said again, victory shining in her eyes.

By this point, Astoria had just about had enough. She jumped off the pool chair and marched right up to the kid, putting her hands on her hips and glaring up at her to assert her dominance despite being the shorter child. The kid just continued to smirk down at Astoria.

"Heh," she said, dunking her toes in the water again.

Astoria took a deep breath and prepared to salt the girl's game. Tentatively, she grazed the surface of the pool with her smallest little piggy.

Sizzle…!

Immediately the water around Astoria's pinky toe began to boil, and she hissed in pain as she quickly retracted her foot. She fell backwards onto the pool deck, clutching her peeling digit and internally cursing her own ego and hubris. From above her, the annoying kid from earlier loomed like a giant.

"Heh," she said, still with that same stupid smirk on her face.

An alarm went off around the pool before Astoria could think of an adequate counter, and the lifeguard announced a pool-wide evacuation as they investigated the source of an abnormal temperature reading. Harry and Daphne regretfully left the water, collected their things, and each took one of Astoria's hands as they led her out of the pool.

"Did you want to say goodbye to your friend?" Daphne asked, pointing at the girl Astoria had most certainly not been playing with.

Astoria turned her head in the girl's direction, but she didn't say goodbye. She didn't even wave. She just glared at the girl, because this was a slight she would not forget.

Because Astoria Greengrass did not lose; this battle simply wasn't over yet.

"Heh," the girl said nonchalantly. And then the door closed between them forever.

Chapter Text

"Ahem." Harry cleared his throat and peeked over at Daphne. "There's one pie in this bakery that's my favorite."

"Oh yeah?" Daphne finished adding the garnishes to her newest confection and turned to him with big, innocent eyes. "Which one?"

"You," he replied, pointing at her.

Daphne tilted her head. "What? But I'm not a p-"

"A cutie pie."

It took her a painful few seconds to understand the suaveness of Harry's line, but when she did, her breath caught in her throat. Her face slowly turned red from her chin to the tips of her ears, and she glanced down at the pies demurely.

"Oh, really? Do you mean it, or was it just a joke…?"

Harry shot Daphne the coolest look he could manage. "Of course I mean it," he said, stepping in and kissing her hand gently. "Show me any sweet, and you'll still be the sweetest." He kissed her again. "Yours is a taste I'll never get tired of."

Daphne squealed smittenly even as her face flushed an even deeper shade of red. Objectively, Harry's lines were horrible, but when one person really loved another they tended to see them in a different light. So even if Harry's smooth talk could only be considered smooth if your point of comparison was low grit sandpaper, it was still irreducibly charming to Daphne.

"Oh, Harry," she said breathily, pushing her recently-completed confections aside for Astoria to deal with at some point. "You really have a way with words. Why don't we take this downstairs, and you can…sample my other flavors?"

Harry let his wife lead him down the stairs into the private office of their bakery. It was a small place, but he figured that was just about right for their purposes.

"I won't leave any crumbs," he said.

Daphne was watching a show on the television set in their living room when Harry walked in with a particularly sly look on his face.

"Did it hurt when you fell?" he asked, drawing her attention away from the screen.

"What?"

"You know," Harry said. "When you fell from Heaven?"

Daphne blinked those big blue eyes of hers. She glanced around nervously—as she tended to do when she was confused but too embarrassed to admit it—before turning sheepishly back to Harry.

"I didn't fall yet today," she started slowly. "And I've never been to Heaven…"

Harry sat down next to her on the sofa and put a hand on her pajama-clad knee. "That's weird," he said affectedly. "I thought all angels came from Heaven."

Daphne was about to argue her worldly origins when the true intent of Harry's line sunk into her squishy brain.

"Oh," she said, blushing. "That's cute. I bet a real angel would be much prettier than me, though…"

"How much?"

"Huh?"

"How much would you bet?" Harry clarified. "Because no being—divine or otherwise—could match my wife for beauty. In fact, I'd be willing to wager that after you were born angels had to be redesigned in your likeness."

"Harry…" Daphne gazed deep into her husband's eyes. She was wearing an old, tattered pair of pajamas, and she had already removed the day's makeup. If Harry thought she was beautiful now, he probably needed to get his glasses cleaned. "You're just saying that…"

"I'm just saying that because it's true," he insisted.

She planted a kiss on his lips, and many followed suit after that. Daphne's television program ran long into the night, entirely forgotten by both of them.

"If you were a vegetable you'd be a cute-cumber," Harry said.

Daphne blushed. "Oh, Harry…"

"And if I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put 'U' and 'I' together."

"Wait. They weren't already?"

"Do you ever get tired of constantly running through my mind?"

"Um, I-"

The distance between the newlyweds—which had been gradually decreasing over the course of dinner—suddenly grew much larger as their chairs were magically pulled to either side of the dining room. They both looked around confusedly, until eventually focusing their gaze on the two small figures seated at the other end of the table.

"The Powerful One is growing tired of your disgustingly sappy behavior as of late," Kreacher explained, gesturing to Astoria. The girl in question was staring at the wall between Harry and Daphne and gripping her fork and knife like she might kill something with them. "Kreacher finds himself agreeing with her assessment."

"But we're married!" Harry protested, though his face betrayed the telltale tomato color of shame. "Are we not allowed to be in love?"

Astoria gave Kreacher a look. "You're allowed to be in love, but do it quieter," the house elf explained. "Your lines are corny, and The Powerful One does not wish to die prematurely of cringe."

"Harry's lines aren't corny," Daphne argued, standing up for her beloved. "They're cute!"

Astoria gave Kreacher another look. "If you truly believe that, you need to raise your standards," he said. "Validating Harry's behavior now will only make him more intolerable in the future."

"Since when did you become Astoria's translator?" Harry interjected. "And why are you still calling her 'The Powerful One' in capital letters? You were calling me 'whiny master' until not that long ago."

"I will start calling you 'cringy master' if you do not learn to contain yourself."

Astoria was still staring at the wall in barely concealed anger, but it was clear that she agreed. Harry and Daphne shared a look and sighed. They'd been having fun being romantic and sappy lately, but maybe they did need to dial it back a few notches. Especially in front of the kids.

"Alright," Harry said. "You've made your point. We'll tone it down from now on."

"There's only one tone I want to be downing, and it's the sounds that escape your lips as I kiss you."

Harry decided the bedroom was fair game for the cringy one-liners Daphne seemed to love, so they completely ignored Kreacher's request once the door was closed. And honestly, who could blame them? Their bumbling attempts at romantic discourse made Harry feel like he wasn't as awkward as he actually was, and made Daphne feel like she wasn't as unlovable as she had always thought she was. So on their own time, the lines were coming fast and furious.

"Tell me more," Daphne moaned.

Harry smirked. "Do you have an extra heart? Because I'm afraid mine's been stolen…"

Chapter Text

"Harry!" Daphne bounced down the stairs and into the living room. "September's over! That means it's finally October!"

It was a fairly robust statement coming out of anyone else's mouth, but considering it was Daphne's mouth and not anyone else's, Harry was mildly impressed.

"That's right!" he said, kind of proud. "But, er…it took you this long to realize it?" He glanced over at the calendar on the wall and confirmed that they were more than halfway through the month.

"Better late than never," Daphne replied unconcernedly, skipping happily over to Harry's spot on the couch. "If we work quickly, we'll still be able to come up with our costumes in time for Halloween!"

Harry grimaced. He wasn't big on Halloween. It was the night his parents were killed, and the night Voldemort marked him as a life-or-death rival. Additionally, every Halloween since then had gone horrifically wrong in one way or another leading him to the conclusion that the day was simply cursed for him. So though his wife was clearly enthused by the holiday, he couldn't quite muster the same energy himself.

"Every year until now I've been a ghost," she continued merrily, either not picking up on Harry's reticence or ignoring it. "We never had much money, so I just threw a sheet over my head and called it a day! But this year I'd like to try something more ambitious." She tapped a long finger against pleasantly full lips. "Maybe…a devil?"

A tiny head popped out from under a previously unoccupied bundle of blankets on the couch, and blue eyes flashed red. Harry jumped a bit in surprise, and then Daphne's outfit suddenly changed. Satisfied, Astoria retreated back under the blankets.

"Oh!" the older Greengrass girl exclaimed, jumping as well. "Harry! If you were that excited to get started on our costumes, you should've reminded me about Halloween earlier!"

Harry was only just beginning to deny the accusation when the sight of his wife's costume properly sunk into his visually-impaired, glass-assisted eyes. Though Daphne had since landed from her little jump of surprise, not all of her had followed. For example, some parts of her were still bouncing. Some very interesting parts.

"Ah!" Harry screamed. "W-w-what are you wearing!?"

Daphne smiled happily and a little mischievously. "The outfit you just put on me, silly!" She giggled and moved closer to him on the couch. "But was I really so scary that you had to scream?"

Though his wife had completely misunderstood the source of his scream, Harry didn't have the nerve to correct her. She was looming over him now, but he didn't think he'd be able to get off the couch even if he wanted to. While little black wings flapped cutely and uselessly behind her, and a pair of red horns emerged from her head, Harry barely took notice of them. The rest of Daphne's attire—if it could even be qualified as such—consisted of a tiny black dress that did a miserable job of covering her assets and a wonderful job of emphasizing them. As full, pale thighs consumed his vision, and Daphne's sweet scent threatened to overpower him, Harry was forced to turn away.

"It's a no," he managed to squeak. "Too…too scary."

Daphne huffed a sigh that was slightly exasperated and slightly amused, but her little sister's head was already poking out of the blankets again. Like a snake that had been charmed, her cute, wide eyes changed color for the splittest of seconds, and then slithered under the blankets once more.

"Oh!" Daphne exclaimed when her outfit changed. "We're already moving on to the next one? Okay…"

With suspicions of what he was about to face but knowing he'd have to face it regardless, Harry slowly turned to look at Daphne.

…And promptly choked on his own saliva.

"Gosh! Harry! Are you okay?"

Daphne bent down to help him, but that only made him choke harder. Of all the things he'd ever expected to see his wife wearing, a skintight catsuit—complete with the little ears—was not on his bingo card.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just…" Harry flailed pathetically like a grounded fish as Daphne fretted over him. From both scientific and magical perspectives, it should be physically impossible to fit his entire wife into that costume. "I think…"

Against all odds, Daphne beheld herself and smiled. She did a quick twirl—giving Harry a fleeting view of a backside that likely posed a bigger threat to his life than Voldemort ever had—and tested her limbs thoughtfully.

"Yeah, this is comfortable!" she said. "Not as scary as the last one, but it has a sort of playful, whimsical feel. Don't you think?"

Harry shook his empty head. "I'm afraid not," he mumbled.

Though he wasn't answering her question in the way she likely thought it was being answered, Astoria dutifully squirmed out of the blankets and replaced her sister's costume. This time, as Harry beheld her, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh! This one isn't so bad," he said honestly, looking her up and down. He brushed himself off and resettled his raging emotions. "It strikes a nice balance between cute and scary."

Daphne grimaced, seeming not to share his opinion. "I don't know…"

"Oh, come on!" Harry understood that a dinosaur onesie wasn't as ambitious as the previous offerings, but it was also far more appropriate given the context. Only her face and feet poked out on either end of the costume, exposing—in his opinion—precisely the correct amount of skin for the commercialization of a holiday meant for children.

"But it's…" Daphne continued nervously, before stopping again. It was at this point Harry realized his wife wasn't grimacing, but actually blushing; even the tips of her ears were bright red. "But it's…it's so lewd!" she finished in a rush.

"What!?" Harry spluttered. "Lewd!?" For a moment, he couldn't believe his ears. "For all that's holy, compared to the last ones…it's…It's a dinosaur onesie!"

"Yeah, but…" Daphne fidgeted shyly, and then curled her toes inwards. "My feet are showing."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You…" He blinked once, really hard. "You're worried about showing your feet?"

She nodded demurely.

And then the incredulity stole all the strength from Harry's body, and he promptly fell off the couch.