Phineus Nigellus Black had been the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black for well over two decades before he was found murdered in Knockturn Alley in 1925 in what authorities believed was a robbery gone bad. He was also, at that time, the most visible and vocal advocate of Pure-blood Supremacy within the Wizengamot and the most reviled Headmaster in Hogwarts history which was probably a step up or step down depending upon ones point of view from having been the most reviled Professor in memory. His murder was never solved in part because he had so many enemies there were few to rule out as potential suspects. In 1985, there was a brief furore when a book was published entitled I Killed Phineus Nigellus Black, written by a Muggle Born who had died the year before until it was revealed that the Muggle Born in question had only been six years old in 1925.
Phineus Nigellus had advocated that Pure-bloods should have large families so that there would be a large pool of potential matches and so that one day there would be more Pure-bloods than those of inferior lineage, much to the annoyance of a significant minority within the Wizengamot - including the majority of Ancient and Noble Houses - which either were then or had historically been Half Bloods. But in having five children, at least in that respect he practised his own philosophy. Not that any of his children liked or respected him. His second son, probably the only true Slytherin of the lot, acted the dutiful Pure-blood bigot for years and managed through his father to attain a life time, non-hereditary appointment to the Wizengamot where he immediately turned against his father’s politics arguing for Muggle protection laws and equal rights without regard to blood status, election of government officials by all the Wizarding citizens of age and other “radical” ideas. Naturally, Phineus disowned him.
Ironically, were it not for the disowned Phineus Black, the historic Black name might well die out seeing as the only other male descendant of Phineus Nigellus Black still bearing the family name was currently serving a life sentence in Azkaban Prison. The other remaining Blacks were the disowned Phineus’s grandson, two great-grandsons and five great-great grandchildren, four of whom were at Hogwarts although not one was in Slytherin. Another great-grandchild had been Vivian Black until her marriage to her second cousin, also one of Phineus Black’s great-grandchildren David Greengrass. It was an arranged marriage but one designed to avoid any “entanglements” with the growing supremacy movement and, by the time Vivian finished Hogwarts the two of them were by no means opposed to the match. They would be married for seven years before their oldest daughter was born. Part of this was due to the war which, when Vivian finished school in 1973 was already raging. The other part of their delay was financial.
Thanks in no small part to the disinheritance of Phineus Black the Muggle supporter, his line of descendants were forced to make a go of it without the backing of a wealthy head of house and had to earn a living on their own. A handful entered the Ministry as Aurors or such. Most avoided government jobs. David and his wife began their post Hogwarts career working in shops, living with his parents. By 1976, the war was having a disruptive influence on local magical manufacture and David Greengrass saw an opportunity. He opened what was for all intents and purposes an import company that sold foreign made products to local shops. At first it was just he and his wife, but by 1979 even as other shops closed, his business while not flourishing, had expanded to the point where he could hire employees, move out of his parent’s home into a flat and he and his wife could afford to start their family.
The Greengrasses were by no means wealthy, but they now had a nice home in the country which they had bought when Daphne was five. They even had two House Elves. Daphne’s Hogwarts tuition was paid in full before she started school and that was no mean feat. They had remained neutral during the War mainly because they were too busy to get involved with either side but also because they were from a disinherited line which meant they had nothing to really offer either side. They also kept quiet as to if or whether they had leanings one way or another. The truth was they were opposed to Voldemort and his Death Eaters who they saw as a bunch of wealthy socialites with too much time on their hands or low life upstarts with nothing to lose. Still, as they were not clearly in the other camp and disinherited or not they were seen as Blacks, socially if not politically they were “courted” by those same wealthy socialites and low life upstarts about betrothal contracts for their yet to even be conceived children.
As a Sixth Year Ravenclaw Prefect, Vivian had gotten to know the First Year Gryffindor Lily Potter and, to the extent that she could took the brilliant Muggle Born witch under her wing. They became friends and it was through this friendship that they secretly began negotiations with the Potters in 1981 for the Betrothal of their first daughter. The nature of the betrothal kept their daughter off the market while at the same time did not commit them to the Potters' side of the war due to the contingencies in the contract and the fact that their daughter would not be the only wife - not that either were known to anyone outside of the Potters and Greengrasses. In the event that somehow the strange circumstances necessary occurred, they both considered it a good match for their eldest.
Daphne knew of the existence of a betrothal contract between her and somebody since she was seven. She knew it was contingent upon certain events coming to pass, events her parents believed were highly unlikely. She also knew that her parents had no real qualms if she should one day have to go through with the marriage anyway. She was raised by parents from old, magical families and thus was raised knowing that arranged marriages were likely. She might not have liked it, few people truly did even if it was the common practice. She also knew it could be a good thing under the right circumstances seeing as her parents were clearly fond of each other and of her and her sisters despite their arranged marriage. What she did not know was to whom she was betrothed or that there was a possibility she might marry before she was sixteen. But as she was magically raised even in a somewhat progressive family, she also was taught what being a wife could mean. Whether she liked her husband or not, she was expected to take to his bed and bear his children and she knew the former could be expected as early as the night of their marriage, regardless of her age or whether she wanted to do that or not.
She had been told that day why she was accompanying her parents to Gringotts. She had been told it had to do with her betrothal and was told to dress in formal robes. This was not particularly worrisome as a first meeting with one’s betrothed was considered a formal affair in polite society. She still was not told who it was or whether this was more than her formal introduction. Part of her feared that she would enter Gringotts a Greengrass and leave as someone else. Worse, she feared, despite her mother’s assurances to the contrary, that her betrothed was much older than her. She was, quite frankly, stunned to see who it was.
Like any child raised in magical Britain at the time, of course she knew who Harry Potter was and had heard of him for as long as she could remember. When she was much younger, she even read some of the books, although she found them to be so fantastical as to be unbelievable even before he showed up as part of her First Year class. She was sorted into Slytherin and he was sorted into Gryffindor and it was clear within days that those two Houses disliked each other on principal. She didn’t truly see why, except that they did. The problem for her was, with the exception of her best friend whom she had known for some years, she didn’t like anyone in her House and that included her Head of House. But as Slytherins did not openly associate with other Houses this meant her only source of information about anyone else was either her own personal observations or whatever tripe her Housemates where saying at any given time. The general belief in her House was that Potter was a typical Gryffindor - not terribly bright, foolhardy and born to dislike Slytherins. It was also believed he was a spoiled, rich kid. She knew that House Potter was wealthy, but aside from an expensive broom that she knew he had received from his own Head of House, nothing indicated wealth. If anything, he looked poorer than the boy he always hung out with.
Moreover, as the scion from one of the oldest magical families in Britain, in many ways he acted more like a Muggle Born or a first generation Hogwarts student. Of the ten Gryffindors in her year, Harry was one of four who had never said anything mean to her, the others being the Muggle Born Hermione Granger who, behind her back naturally, was more likely to be called the Bane of Ravenclaw than a Mudblood after it was learned that she was at the top of their year as it had been over ten years since that spot had ever been held by a non-Ravenclaw in any year; Neville Longbottom was another, although he seemed so shy there was no way to tell if he was truly nice or too tongue tied to say anything nice or otherwise; and the other was Parvati Patil whose parents were immigrants. That Harry Potter was at the very least rude to Draco Malfoy and his cronies, while it might be a shock to them, was hardly a surprise to her. That’s not to say Harry was friendly to her, but he was no less polite to her than he was to students from other houses.
Seeing Potter seated at the other side of the table had stunned her. What stunned her even more was it seemed not only as if he was getting along with her parents, who seldom warmed up to anyone quickly, but that they might actually like him. And, before she truly knew what was going on, when the Goblins began their blood tests to hear him joking around with her father left her speechless and confused. Before she could even think, she realized this was not a meeting to discuss the betrothal, but to execute the marriage. She was overwhelmed with so many emotions: fear, frustration, a sense of betrayal, confusion, sadness and, in a way even relief, that she could not help but cry. It all seemed to be over so quickly and so unceremoniously that there was even a small sense of loss as she felt that if she was going to be packed off as a thirteen year old bride to a boy she barely knew at all, she should at least have had a proper wedding. She forced herself to remember her upbringing in the end when her mother whispered a reminder. But as she descended the ladder into that trunk, she wondered whether she was descending into some kind of hell.
She was silent as she followed him to the door after he descended behind her. It opened into a huge room and an Elf was standing there as if waiting for them.
“Master Harry, Mistress Daphne, dinner is ready and will be served in the Informal Dining Room.”
“Thank you Higgins,” Harry said. “Well, I was going to show you around a bit, but that can wait. This way.”
She didn’t say anything, merely followed him looking at the place as he led her from that room which he called the Entry Hall into the Great Hall pointing out the Parlours, the Game Room, Library and finally through the Formal Dining Room to a room beyond. She was confused. The paintings and tapestries spoke of age, but the place looked brand new as if it had been built yesterday or something. It lacked any kind of lived in feel to it. “Surely this isn’t your Manor,” she began.
“Don’t know if I even have one, although everyone thinks I do so maybe I do. I moved here the day we got back from Hogwarts - well the day we Muggle Raised got back at any rate. Believe it or not I wasn’t kidding. This is actually a trunk. And this,” he said, “is the Informal Dining Room where we usually take our meals - except for lunch of course.”
They entered a much smaller room that seemed almost cosy compared to the rest of this place. There was a table set for four people and he led her to a chair and held it for her as she sat. He took the seat across from her.
“You eat lunch in that other room?” she asked still unable to gather her thoughts for this was all happening faster than she could process it.
“Picnics in the gardens,” Harry said. “Ah Ladies!” he said.
Naturally, Daphne thought, my back’s to the door.
“Ladies, as you can guess this is Daphne Greengrass or Potter if you will, Countess designate of Abengale. Daphne, this is Hermione, Countess designate of Finchley and the former Luna Lovegood - she’s a year behind us in Ravenclaw - Countess designate of Hwicca.”
Daphne saw the two girls, both in nice and very new looking sundresses.
“Bit overwhelming, isn’t it,” Luna said.
“Um…”
“So how did it go?” Hermione asked as Harry sat the two of them down.
“Well, I had a surprising pleasant conversation with Daphne’s parents before it happened. Kind of wish she was there. She came in right after and Grisha didn’t waste any time with pleasantries or anything. She looked… upset?”
“Confused,” Daphne said. “Angry at the lot of you, scared, a bunch of other feelings as well.”
“How you found out was not my choice,” Harry said. “I would have preferred you had some… um… warning.”
“I’ve known about the betrothal since I was seven,” Daphne said trying to regain her composure. “I didn’t know any of the details, not even who my betrothed was. I will admit I was pleased it wasn’t Malfoy, or any other boy in Slytherin for that matter, but don’t think I am thrilled about this.”
“Bit of a shock for us as well,” Hermione said. “When we woke up Monday morning, none of knew anything about any of this, not even our parents. Turns out someone obliviated them or something like that years ago and probably me as well. We learned about the contracts, the Soul Bonds, the fact that the soul bonds were forming and all of that Monday morning.”
“And two of us were Muggle raised,” Harry said, “where our ages, the fact that our parents chose this for us and that I can even have more than one wife at one time are… well, we’re all too young, arranged marriages are practically unheard of and something like a Plural Marriage is a crime.”
“You were Muggle Raised? That explains a lot.”
“Oh?”
“It’s hard to explain but… there were moments especially first year when… well it was like… if you had been raised magically… Then again, you do run with Weasley and he seems pretty clueless about some things as well.”
“Ronald is clueless because he either doesn’t care to know or thinks he knows when he doesn’t,” Hermione huffed.
“Like that Wizard’s duel First Year,” Daphne nodded.
“You know about that?”
“Malfoy is a braggart. Told us all - very loudly, I might add - that night just after curfew how he called you out and you accepted…”
“Ron accepted,” Hermione huffed. “Harry just didn’t contradict him.”
“Makes it worse then,” Daphne continued. “Draco was all on about how you were set up to get caught out of your dorm after curfew. He was rather upset the next day to learn his oh so cunning - in his deluded opinion’s - plan had failed.”
“Filch makes too much noise to sneak up on you, really,” Harry commented.
“So you were out?”
Harry nodded. “And didn’t get caught.”
“Almost got the lot of us killed, but yeah, we didn’t get caught,” Hermione all but scolded.
“I hoped you were over that,” Harry said.
“Well, since the Troll was the second time I almost got killed in two months and it was a much closer thing than running head long into that Cerberus in that out of bounds corridor, I did. But don’t think I came to see that as fun.”
“What? There was one of those things in the school? What do you mean by the lot of you and what’s the troll got to do with anything?” Daphne asked.
“Oh goodie! A story!” Luna practically squealed.
“The lot of us were Harry, Ron, Neville Longbottom and myself. Ron was insisting Harry had to do it, Neville forgot the password to get back into the dorm and didn’t want to be left out alone and I was trying to stop them from getting into trouble. Personally, I’d take Filch over Hagrid’s pet any day. As for the Troll, I was in the bathroom when it cornered me and Harry came looking for me. Harry distracted it by jumping on its back and jamming his wand up its nose and Ron got lucky and levitated its club. Dropped it on the thing’s head and knocked it out.”
Daphne didn’t know how to respond. “Um… well… You know, given the Hogwarts rumour mill it’s a wonder I never heard about any of that!”
“How many times has something or someone tried to kill you since you started school, Harry?” Hermione asked.
“Um… you mean that I know of for certain?”
“Yes. Let’s keep it short.”
“First year? Fluffy - that’s the Cerberus - Troll, Quirrell at the Quidditch match although at the time we thought it was Snape, maybe that dragon of Hagrid’s, Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, Fluffy again, the Devil’s Snare and Quirrell and Voldemort both until I killed Quirrell…”
“You-Kn-know-Who? But you’ve already… ,” Daphne said.
“We don’t know what happened that night,” Luna said. “But I believe Harry when he says that somehow You-Know-Who was beaten but not truly killed.”
“Second Year… well there was that Whomping Willow, a House Elf although that was more an accident, the acromantulas in the Forest, Lockhart when his wand backfired and almost cause the cave to collapse on my head, that basilisk, Voldemort again and Mr. Malfoy.”
“Huh?”
“The Whomping Willow was where Ron crashed that flying car,” Harry said. “It wasn’t very happy with us at all. That rogue bludger at the first Quidditch match was done by a House Elf trying to convince me to get out of school because of the stuff going on. The Acromantulas is a long story. Let’s just say there’re loads of them in the forest, they’re huge and not very friendly at all. Lockhart, the useless coward, tried to obliviate Ron and I down in the Chamber of Secrets or at least the nearby cave and instead wiped out his own memories and nearly dropped the cave on top of us all. I killed the basilisk, defeated that version of Voldemort which was the reason it was on the loose and Dobby took care of Malfoy. Seems Malfoy was rather upset that in addition to ruining his plans to unleash that thing on the Muggle Borns, he got kicked off the Board of Governors and I tricked him into freeing his House Elf. Before that Elf - my Head Elf Dobby - banished him from the school quite violently, he had said ‘Avada”."
“Th-the Killing Curse?”
“So I’ve been told.”
“How did you kill a basilisk? They’re immune to magic pretty much and even if not… And why didn’t it kill you?”
“I had help from a Phoenix and a sword. The Phoenix blinded the thing and I drove a sword through its skull, although it did bite me…”
“You would be dead!”
“Phoenix.”
“Oh right,” Daphne said. “Tears?”
Harry nodded.
“That was the monster?”
Harry nodded.
“Must not’ve been very big.”
“I guess. Is sixty feet long big for one of those things?”
Daphne just looked at him in shock.
“It seemed about that long. It was about as thick as I am tall. Then again, I didn’t stick around to measure it.”
“Um…”
“Let me guess,” Luna said, “the rumours pale in comparison to the real thing?”
That broke Daphne’s brain lock. “That Boy-Who-Lived rubbish pales in comparison to the real thing! And you got into the Chamber? It’s real?”
“All it takes is the ability to talk to snakes,” Harry shrugged. “Well that and figuring out where the entrance is which wasn’t that hard once I figured out that the Muggle Born who died the last time it was opened was Moaning Myrtle.”
“No wonder you’re in Gryffindor,” Daphne said.
“Actually, that’s ‘cause I told the Hat not to put me where it wanted to.”
“And where was that?”
“Slytherin.”
“It wanted you in Slytherin and you told it Gryffindor?”
“No. It insisted on Slytherin and I told it anywhere but there.”
“Why? I admit I’m not fond of my House but…”
“Ron would think it’s ‘cause he told me there’s not a witch or wizard who went dark that wasn’t from that House, but even then I thought he was biased. No. I had the misfortune to meet Draco Malfoy before he was sorted and wanted to be as far away from that git as I could get.”
“I can understand that,” Daphne nodded. “So, the Hat wanted you there and you talk to snakes. Any chance you’re Slytherin’s Heir?”
“I am descended from him. One of my Potter ancestors married his granddaughter or great-granddaughter. Dumbledore thinks that ability had something to do with what happened when my parents were killed but we have some of the old Potter journals here and it seems that trait pops up in my family every few generations or so. Then again, the grandson of my Slytherin ancestor married a great-great granddaughter or so of Gryffindor.”
“Any other Founders in your line?”
“The daughter of one of my Potter ancestors was Helga Hufflepuff’s Mum. I’m descended from her younger brother. But, I think it’s safe to say that if you can trace any of your family magic back to the time of the Founders, you’ll find Founders' Lines in your tree. I know you and Luna are descended from Phineus Black and all three of us from his father. The Blacks have Slytherin and Gryffindor in their line as well far enough back.”
“When we found out about out bonds, we learned a lot of interesting things,” Luna said. “For example: Harry, Hermione and I are all descended from Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel.”
“But she’s a Muggle Born!”
“Not if you go back seven generations or so on both sides of my family,” Hermione said. “Maybe it’s just me, but it’s something I think should be looked into. What if there really is no such thing as a true Muggle Born as in a witch or wizard from a family line that never, ever had magic? What if every witch or wizard ever born has magical roots if you just look back far enough? Kind of shakes things up a bit, don’t you think? Just because a child is a Squib would not mean their magical line is ended, rather it’s just gone dormant for a few generations or so? Excluding himself, Harry can trace his Potter family’s magic back more than thirty-two generations and he has portraits of thirty-two of those generations scattered about this place. Do you know how many would qualify as Pure-bloods today?”
Daphne shook her head.
“Seven, including his father, grandfather and great-grandfather. The rest were all technically Half Bloods. Now in my opinion, if you want true bragging rights based upon your magical heritage which is truly more impressive? Being able to trace you magic back unbroken thirty-two or more generations even where many of those ancestors married Muggle-borns? Or only being able to go back fifteen or so, even if the last nine were technically Pure-bloods? One of these days I hope to be able to find a way to see how far back my magical heritage can really be traced. As far as I’m concerned, my family’s just been on an extended Holiday from this world.”
“You’re preaching to the converted,” Daphne said somewhat annoyed. “I’m from Phineus Black’s family. My Great-great grandfather was disinherited along with all his descendants because, to use that brain dead idiot Malfoy’s expressions, he was such a Blood Traitor that he made the Weasleys look like mild mannered Pure-blood Supremacists. Great-Great Granddad Phineus, while almost a hundred at the time, was murdered by Death Eaters as was his son Silas, his Grandson Stanley and his two boys Albert and Marcus - they were Aurors, his Granddaughter Anna, Luna’s grandmother and the founder of the Quibbler and a critic of the Pure-bloods and their leader, his Granddaughter Lana, her two sons, their wives and all their children because they either were or had been Aurors, were married to them or because they were their children, his Great-Granddaughter Ellen who prosecuted Death Eaters and their supporters and her nine year old son and his Great-Grandson Frank who was a hit wizard. Not one of Phineus Black’s descendants was a Death Eater or supported their nonsense although, because the rest were targets, the adults did their best to appear neutral and not draw the attention of either side. It may not appear brave, but what good is it to be brave if in doing so your family is wiped out.
“I had Malfoy pegged as an idiot before we got into the boats First Year. I wish my name began with a ‘P’ because I might have argued with it about Slytherin as well once it put that self absorbed moron into that house. He has no ambition. He believes he’s entitled to everything. As for cunning, he fancies himself as cunning, but he’s delusional. The biggest problem in our year is that his so called heritage has made the him Grand Idiot which he uses to gather about him his sycophantic toadies who, if they combined their brains together might one day for a brief moment have a real thought. The only one in my year who’s not a total waste of food and air is my friend Tracey and I’m still reserving judgement on Bulstrode and Zabini. But Parkinson and Runcorn are slags whose only utility will be taking boys into their beds so those boys don’t come my way and the other three are ranked 38, 39, and 40 in our year only because there’s nowhere lower for them to go.”
Daphne gasped. “I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “I’m new here and that was completely inappropriate. But see here, Granger…”
“Hermione please,” Harry commanded.
Daphne nodded. “Her… Hermione, I may wear the green and silver but that does not mean I believe one word from that upstart idiot Malfoy’s mouth and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t assume that I did!”
“You’re right,” Hermione said. “Aside from where you were sorted, I had no reason to assume that. Honestly, I think this is the most I’ve heard you say in two years put together.”
Daphne nodded. “Aside from talking with my friend Tracey, it probably is. Could we please change the topic? My parents always said that politics, even if you agree, is never good dinner conversation and are we going to eat?”
“Oh,” Harry said. “Sorry about that.” With that the meal appeared.
“So Harry,” Daphne asked, “what was it like growing up in the Muggle World.”
“Not a good topic either,” Hermione said.
“Oh?”
“While most Muggles are and try to be decent people, Harry lives with his Muggle Aunt and Uncle and they are not nor do they try to be decent people, especially to Harry. I’ve known him two years and while I know given a choice between living at school all year long and coming home and having to deal with those… things… he’d stay at school.”
“No, that’s okay Hermione,” Harry said. “I… I trust you and Luna and want to trust Daphne too. You and Luna share a soul bond with me and I think trust is important. Daphne was thrown into this without that… um… to help so trust may be more important. My first memories are of scrubbing floors. I was pretty young at the time and those are rather vague memories. My first clear memory was when my Aunt started to make me cook meals. I was four. She’d tell me to do something and if I did it wrong I got swatted on the behind with a ruler. She didn’t ever tell me how to do it or show me how. Break an egg. Wrong. Swat. Do it again. Wrong. Swat. Again. Swat. Again! There’s an eggshell in the bowl. Swat!”
“I’m surprised you came to like cooking,” Luna said. “He cooked this, you should know,” she added for Daphne.
“I learned the basics pretty fast. Faster when I realized that if she left me alone I got more to eat provided I ate while I was cooking. Until I was five, I thought my name was Boy Freak or Boy or Freak or something. It was only when I was first sent off to school that I was forced to learn my real name. The only new thing I ever got before my First Year Hogwarts school supplies were my glasses. I did get my own uniforms for Primary School, but they were always bought second hand. That’s when I was six. I got a good hiding when I brought the note home for school saying they needed to take me to an eye doctor, another hiding when we got back from the eye doctor and they needed to take me to the place where you get tested for your glasses, and another when we had to get the glasses, and another after we got back and my Cousin Dudley took my glasses and broke them. Until I got my first Hogwarts letter, I slept in a cupboard under the stairs. They moved me to a tiny bedroom afterwards. It’s eight feet by twelve feet or so and all the furniture is broken in some way. Getting the picture? Not the pampered prince, was I?”
“Why would anyone do that?” Daphne asked.
Harry shrugged. “My Aunt’s a Muggle and hates magic and my Uncle’s one too. They figured they could beat the magic out of me.”
“That’s just ridiculous,” Luna said calmly. She seemed to be the only one that acted calm. “Are you sure your Aunt’s a Muggle? I mean your Dad was a Pure-blood and Mum was a Muggle Born. Who’s sister was she?”
“My Mum’s older sister.”
“Probably a Squib then,” Daphne noted. “Makes it worse. She should’ve known better.”
“Why do you say that?”
“If she and your mother had the same birth parents, even if those parents are Muggles, she’s a Squib. Usually, when magic manifests itself in a Muggle family, it’s with the first born child and all their younger brothers and sisters are magical as well. If the first born is not magical or a younger child is not magical, they are Squibs. Unlike a true Muggle, they have a detectable magical core, it’s just too weak for them to manifest magic.”
“Of course,” Hermione countered, “it’s possible they were adopted. It’s also possible they had different fathers. If your gran, for example, got pregnant with your Aunt out of wedlock and the father scampered, then married and had your mother…”
“Then the Aunt would be a Muggle most likely,” Daphne finished. “Is that where we are now? Those vile Muggle relatives place?”
Harry nodded. “Dobby warded the room so they can’t get in even if they somehow got passed the muggle repelling ward. Even if they did, the wards on this trunk are very powerful in their own right. They can’t bother us.”
“But maybe we could bother them someday,” Daphne said. “Why do you have to stay here?”
Harry explained the Wards Dobby discovered on the property, what they did and why they needed Harry’s presence at least eight hours a day in the room to charge. “Fortunately, being in this trunk counts as being in that room magically speaking,” he concluded. “Given my first two years at Hogwarts, as annoying as those people are, I’d rather not take the risk of those wards failing anytime soon.”
“Why is it that whenever we talk about your life, it’s disturbing?” Daphne asked.
“Hello,” Harry quipped. “I’m the real Harry Potter.”
Daphne snorted.
“My entire life, or at least for as long as I can remember, all I wanted was to be normal. I knew my life with my relatives was not normal even when I was very young and it was not normal in a bad way. I learned I was a wizard on my eleventh birthday and a part of me though that well maybe I can be a normal wizard, whatever that was. That hope was practically dashed before I was even sorted when I learned I was like really famous. That’s not normal either. Throw in all that’s happened to me at Hogwarts and it’s even more not normal. All I wanted was to be a part of a nice, happy family that loved me and to have friends. Oddly enough, although it means my life is still not normal by any standards, I might finally be moving in that direction.
“The problem is even if that happens, the rest of this bloody world seems intent upon not letting me be normal even in my own abnormal way. I’d toss the bloody fame if I could and never get sucked into another encounter with Voldemort. But I can’t toss the fame and Voldemort doesn’t seem to be dead and it’s clear he wants me dead badly. I’m a parselmouth not because I chose to be, but it’s just what I am. I don’t see it as being innately dark any more than I see speaking Latin or French as dark. It’s a familial magic I’m told - Hermione told me that - and has manifested itself before in witches and wizards who were not dark, but they hid it ‘cause most witches and wizards think it is. Magic is not dark or light. That is determined by the intent of the user. But I’ll be damned if many of the students at the school can even begin to get their narrow minds around that one. So I can do something that’s not common. So what?”
“You’ve never said that much about you or your life before,” Luna said. “Not all at once at least.”
Harry smiled. “I trust you guys. We’ve had loads of time together - well maybe not with Daphne here. I’m still dealing with a lot of things from my past, but I trust you guys with… well, with everything. Daphne here was thrown into it at this point in our… our… well, you two know the word. I’m not gonna change just ‘cause she’s here. She’s a part of this now. She’s a part of us now in a way I guess.”
Daphne snorted. “I suppose I am. I will do what is expected of me, just don’t expect me to enjoy it.”
“Yeah,” Harry seemed to agree. “Kinda like your first day at Hogwarts, I guess. You’re away from your family with a bunch of people you don’t know. I would say I understand, but to be honest being away from my relatives is always a good thing.”
“It’s not at all the same,” Daphne protested. “My first day at Hogwarts did not include sleeping with a boy and letting him have his way with my body!”
“Oh. Well no worries there.”
“What do you mean no worries?”
“Even if you wanted to do that tonight, it’s not happening. And it’s not going to happen until Hermione and I have gone that far and we haven’t and probably won’t anytime soon.”
“But… but it’s our wedding night,” Daphne said surprised that she actual felt a twinge of disappointment although she knew it was a feeling of rejection. “You’re supposed to do that with me! It’s your right as my husband! Am I not pretty enough? You are old enough, you know. Don’t you want me?”
“Whether I want to do something, whether I can do something, whether I have the right to do something is not the same as whether I should do something,” Harry replied. “If our relationship does get to that point it is because we both want it, not because I have any right to expect it.”
“But a marriage has to be consummated for it to count,” Daphne said wondering why she was arguing this point at all.
“True,” Harry said. “It has to be or it can be annulled on those grounds. But given our ages, it does not have to be consummated until the youngest of the two of us turns twenty-one and that would be me seeing as you were born in November of 1979. That means we have until July 31st, 2001 to worry about whether or not that happened. In this house, we do have some rules. When it comes to intimate things the rule is this: if Hermione and I have not gone that far, then I won’t go that far with Luna or you. If we have, I still won’t unless you want me to.”
“And… and just how far have you gone?”
“Hugging, snuggling, walking together holding hands or arm in arm or such,” Luna said. “Oh and kissing…”
“But not full on snogging like the upper years do,” Hermione added.
“Excuse me?” Harry asked.
“No tongues.”
“Oh right. That seems a bit…”
“It must be pleasurable or they wouldn’t do it,” Hermione commented, “but we’re a bit young for that, don’t you think?”
“Oh,” Luna added, “and he’s seen us naked, but that’s because we let him. Besides, until last night we didn’t have any bathing costumes that fit. Oh, and he knows I don’t wear knickers, although I am wearing some now.”
“Really?” Harry asked.
“My monthlies started. You know that means I won’t be knickers-less for a few days.”
“Oh right.”
“And Hermione and I do sleep in his bed, but we shower and change in our own rooms. That’s for the bond, however. Hermione and I need six to eight hours of intimate physical proximity or contact with Harry every day until our bond is fully formed although even afterwards we’ll probably want to continue with that.”
“But that is sex, isn’t it?” Daphne asked.
“Intimate physical proximity merely means spending time within each others personal space,” Hermione said.
“What’s that?”
“If a person gets physically closer to you, it’s okay up to some point but then, if they get any closer you feel uncomfortable and want to take a step back or something. When that happens, they’ve entered your personal space so intimate proximity means we spend time that close or closer to each other. Now physical intimacy can include sex, but it includes a lot of other things as well such as hugs, and snuggles, and holding hands and kisses and such; things which you could do with parents and brothers and sisters and such and no one would think it sexual at all. Besides, do you really think Harry could do that twelve to sixteen hours a day every day? He’s bonding with both of us, you know.”
“That’s why we sleep with him every night,” Luna said. “Easiest way to get our bonding time with Harry.”
“So you don’t even have to be awake?” Daphne asked.
“It’s nice when we are, but nope.”
“So… you won’t be sleeping with me?” Daphne asked Harry.
“Do you want me to?”
“Well… no, but…”
“Even if you wanted me to, sex stuff won’t happen until our bond is complete which, we’re told, can take up to a year. Once the bond it complete, you can sleep with me that way but only if you want to. Heck, I can’t even go into your rooms unless you want me to and invite me…”
“There’re wards? Wards like the ones on the girl’s dormitories?”
“No,” Hermione said. “It’s another of our rules and Harry respects it.”
“Oh. Um. So what do you expect of me?”
“Expect?” Harry replied. “I really don’t know. What I would like is for you to be comfortable here. I would like for you to become our friend and for us to become yours. Anything else, anything more is not expected but would not be unwelcome should a time comes when you want more from this relationship.”
“And if we don’t consummate…?”
“If the marriage remains unconsummated as of my twenty-first birthday and if you want it, it can be annulled. But until then, you are my wife and I am your husband. If you want a boyfriend, you know the nature of the oath and contract you signed today, I am your only choice in that regard legally and magically.”
“I know,” she replied. Deep down, however, she was starting to think this might be a good thing.