A Helping Hand Chapter 4

Content Warnings: Daphne Bathes Harry, Hurt!Harry, Teasing.

“You’re going to hex Harry.”

“Yes.”

“Then punch him.”

“He has a flair for the dramatic. Harry insisted on a punch when we discussed the plan last night. He’s convinced Draco suspects something and wants me to really sell my hatred for Gryffindors”

“And I’m here because-”

“Well, I’m not just going to leave him here! What if I mess up the hex and he ends up getting hurt?!”

Tracey raised an eyebrow. 

“What?” Daphne growled. She didn’t like the smirk on her best friend’s face. “Harry may have a devil-may-care attitude regarding safety but having a backup to any plan is crucial for its success. Harry thinks he can take himself to the Hospital Wing but what if-”

“He can’t walk off a tickling hex and a fake punch. Oh no, what if he faints? The horror!” Tracey pressed the back of her hand against her forehead and pretended to faint. “Fine. I’ll stick around and make sure your boyfriend is fine after you tickle him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“You sure act like he is. Morgana, I never thought Daphne Greengrass would be down bad for a man. You were scribbling in that parchment he gave you all day.”

“We didn’t have any classes together and needed to refine the plan. That’s why he gave me the parchment last night. Besides, you slept with him first!”

“I haven’t slept-” Tracey’s eyes widened. “Is that what your appointment was about? Is that why you keep disappearing all the time?” Tracey squealed. “No way! I thought you liked women. Hell, for a time I thought you were into me!”

“What?” Daphne stared blankly at Tracey. “Have you lost your mind? Why would you think that?”

“You spend all your time with me. I found that novel where the Countess and her maid ran away together in your trunk last summer. You’ve never shown any interest in dating a man-”

“They’re all pigs.”

“Not Harry.”

“No, Harry is a god-” Daphne saw the raised eyebrows and promptly shut her mouth. “Send,” she said after a short, uncomfortable silence. “He’s a godsend. He’s my way out.” Daphne thrust her right arm in Tracey’s face. “And if I have to seduce him to get what I want, that is a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“Oh honey, I’m sure it’s a massive sacrifice.” Tracey tilted her head. “A massive, gorgeous sacrifice.”

“He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

Tracey’s grin widened as she nodded.

Daphne gulped and turned to face the man by the entrance to the Charms classroom with the intent of asking him how much he’d heard but her tongue refused to cooperate. The words died in her throat as she watched Harry walk over to her with wide gray eyes.

“Those are called muscles, honey,” Tracey leaned in and whispered loudly. “They lead to smart girls making stupid decisions.”

Tracey often played fast and loose with facts but on this particular occasion, Daphne decided she was goddamned right.  

“You uh… new wardrobe?” Daphne asked, licking her dry lips. 

He wore a simple gray shirt just like he had the first time they’d met. And while it was still too drab for her liking, this one actually fit him. It fit him far too well. He no longer looked like he was wearing two tents leashed together with rope. Instead, the sleeves clung to his tanned biceps. The shirt’s fabric hugged his broad chest and ended just below his waist instead of running down to his lower thighs. The blue denim jeans were similarly plain but no longer baggy or covered in mysterious food stains.

“I know how much you dislike seeing me in my normal clothes.”

“They’re not normal… you deserve good things,” Daphne said. Her indignation briefly overrode her shyness. “I don’t care what you wear as long as it makes you happy.”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t care either.” Harry shrugged. “Growing up, I promised myself that if I had a proper bed, three proper meals, and some friends, I’d be happy with my life. I have all of those now. I don’t need anything else.”

“That’s… all you want in life?”

“Well, in an ideal world I’d like a house and someone to share it with but ten-year-olds don’t really have domestic bliss and children on their minds, Tracey,” Harry chuckled. “Do my new clothes make you happy, Daph? I didn’t know what you’d prefer so I used my judgement to order off Madam Malkin’s catalog. Ron thought I was mental to spend money on more gray shirts when I already have so many.”

“Oh, they make her very happy,” Tracey said before Daphne could speak. “But like Daphne said, she doesn’t care about your clothes. In an ideal world, you wouldn’t be wearing any around her.”

“Tracey!”

“What? It’s not like he didn’t hear you be an utter horndog. You were practically ten minutes away from writing an ode to his massive-”

“You know that the proper courtship tool is the sonnet!” Daphne whirled around and glared at her best friend. “How dare you suggest I would debase myself by writing something as simple and pedestrian as a simple ode.”

“Sorry.” Tracey threw her hands up in surrender. “I’m sure the sonnet you write about Harry’s massive dick will be lovely and heartwarming.”

“I feel like we’re getting slightly off-topic. We’re not here to discuss my, uh, my-”

“Massive dick?” Tracey piped in.

“Daphne.” Harry’s arms snaked around her waist and pulled her to him. Her back hit his chest and she sighed softly at the familiar rumble when he spoke. “On any other day, I would love to read the odes-”

“Sonnets.”

“Sonnets that you write for me. Sorry, listening to you and Tracey makes my head spin. Are you always this bad?”

“Bad?!” Tracey scowled. “Potter I will have you know you’re standing in the presence of the quip queens of Hogwarts. You’re lucky we’re off our game because of all the stress you’ve brought into our lives. Young lady, I do not approve of the man you’re seeing.”

“Guess what, Trace? You don’t get a say!”

“Also I’d argue that the evil ferret trying to blackmail Daph is the source of the stress, not me,” Harry interjected. 

That was enough to bring Daphne crashing back down to earth. She turned and pressed her cheek against Harry’s chest, focusing on the steady beating of his heart. 

“Remind me again why you can’t just hide out in Gryffindor Tower? I’ll pretend I sent you to the hospital wing. When I came to you yesterday you said it wouldn’t work but I can’t think of a reason why.”

She could think of several reasons why, but it was far easier to live in denial. Hurting Harry didn’t sit right with her, even when it was in the interest of the greater good. He had suffered enough in his life. It was time for others to pick up the slack.

“Voldemort-” Harry paused when the girls shuddered and groaned. “It’s just a name. He had spies in every house the last time he was around. Who’s to say that’s not the case this time as well? I’m not taking that risk of being spotted anywhere but the Hospital Wing while you are in an unreachable room surrounded by Malfoy and his goons.”

“Okay. Then you don’t camp out in your Common Room or Dormitory. You could go see Hagrid. Or hide somewhere else in the castle.”

“We don’t know how long he’ll have you there. Could be all night. He clearly suspects something since he wants you to prove your loyalty. He’s stupid but he’s not stupid enough to think you’re anything more than a reluctant follower. You went and asked for your assignment after two months of blowing him off. We either do this right or we don’t do it at all. You’re not going to like this but it needs to be a real hex, not a tickling curse like we agreed on yesterday. Something serious enough to warrant a visit to the Hospital Wing. He might decide to check your wand.”

“Harry-”

“Daphne.”

Harry wrapped an arm around her throat and pinned her to his chest. To a casual observer, it was nothing more than a romantic gesture and she knew he was being respectful because he wasn’t sure how much she wanted Tracey to know about them. But the slight pressure on her throat sent a clear message. He wanted her to be a good girl. His good girl. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

It was the first time since their arrangement started that she contemplated outright disobeying his order. 

“Daphne.” His voice was soft. “If he’d asked you to do this to anyone else, what would you have done?”

“I would have sent them to the Hospital Wing without a second thought because I know how important tonight is to y… our fight,” she answered reluctantly.

“Yawor fight?”

“Our fight,” Daphne said, glaring at her best friend. “I’m sorry my pronunciation isn’t to your satisfaction Tracey, I’m parched. Perhaps you can get me some water while Harry and I finish our conversation?”

“Not necessary. We’re running low on time. I presume Tracey’s here because you think we need her, right?” Harry fished out his wand from his pocket. “Open your mouth,” he murmured. He pressed the tip of his wand against her soft lips, waiting until she had obeyed. He used the arm around her neck to tilt her head upwards and pushed the tip into her mouth until her tongue instinctively rose and caressed the soft wood. “Aguamenti,” he whispered. A gentle stream of water erupted from his wand and ran down her tongue. “Tell me when to stop, okay?”

“Thanks,” she murmured after a few seconds of silent gulping.

“Alright.” Harry pulled his wand away from her lips and pocketed it. “The plan is simple. You hex me, punch me, then go meet Draco. I presume Tracey is here to make sure I get to the Hospital Wing?”

“You presume-” Daphne coughed to clear her throat. “You presume correctly.”

“Alright then. Let’s get to it.” Harry released her from his hold and stepped back until his back hit a bench.

Daphne walked over to Tracey on unsteady feet. She looked at her best friend silently, sighing in relief when she realized Tracey had gotten the memo.

“You need to leave, Harry.”

“Why?”

“Daphne ambushing you in a classroom makes no sense. How’d she lure you here? How did she get the upper hand? So many questions that will need answers. It will complicate her story. Better to do this in the hallway.”

“Does it matter? She can just tell Malfoy-”

“You were the one who wanted things to be realistic. Men these days have such a pathological fear of commitment. Young man, I’m seriously beginning to consider revoking my blessing for this union.”

“You didn’t bless anything-”

“SHOO!”

“Fine!” Harry shook his head and began his ascent to the classroom’s door. “We’re short on time.”

“Daphne will be out in a minute and hex your stupid ass, Potter. Now, leave!”

“That was insane,” Daphne murmured once Harry had left. “Even for you.”

“Hey, got his attention off of you, didn’t it?” Tracey raised her eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

“About?”

“Well, if you’re too preoccupied with dreaming about making perfect little babies with Potter you might make a mistake tonight and get yourself killed.”

“I’m not… that’s not what I was dreaming about,” Daphne mumbled. She ran a hand over her damp forehead. “I’ll be fine. That was… that was hot, right?”

“So hot,” Tracey giggled. “Potter isn’t my type but even I felt something stir watching the two of you. It’s so fucking inconsiderate of Malfoy to do his evil shit right now. You could be getting dicked down by Captain Gorgeous out there but no, you’ll instead spend the night in the company of the most revolting people in existence.”

“You’ll make sure he gets to the Hospital Wing safely?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure the father of my godchildren doesn’t suffer any permanent damage.”

“You seem certain you’ll be the godmother.”

“Like you’d ask someone else,” Tracey snorted. “Now go before he barges in here again.”

Every step Daphne took towards the door felt like a thousand. She pushed a trembling hand into her skirt when she reached the door and pulled out her wand. A flick of her wand opened it, revealing a quiet, dimly lit hallway. It was empty except for Harry. Ever the considerate gentleman, he was standing with his back to her. He didn’t turn at the sound of the door opening and she knew it was to make it easier for her. In a way, it made things harder.

Daphne raised a shaky hand, pointing her wand at his back. 

“Daph, it’s okay.”

His soft voice spurred her to action. 

“Stupefy!” 

She caught him seconds after the beam of red light hit his back. Her arms struggled to support her weight and her plan of laying him down on the floor turned into a graceful fall.

“Sorry. Didn’t want you to hurt yourself more than was necessary,” she whispered. She kissed his forehead and stepped away from him, pointing her wand at his back again. “Scrofulagula!”

A lone tear leaked out of the corner of her eye as she watched boils erupt all over his body. Serious enough to warrant a trip to the Hospital Wing, just like he had asked. 

She was a good girl. She was a good girl. She was a good-

“I hate you,” Daphne choked out. She banged on the classroom door and then ran down the deserted hallway. “Life was so much simpler before that day.”

It took her the entire journey to the seventh floor to compose herself. The tears were wiped away, her eyes returned to normal with a simple glamour spell. Her breathing was barely back to normal by the time she reached the entrance to the Room of Requirement. 

“You’re late,” Malfoy said before she could speak. 

“You gave me a job. I took my time to make sure it was done right.”

Malfoy stopped pacing to glower at her. Daphne was certain he thought his actions were intimidating. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him, standing with their arms crossed over their chests. Both of them looked at her with empty stares, clearly too zoned out to understand what was happening. 

Intimidating? Pah!

He was pathetic. 

“Is he in the Hospital Wing?”

“Why don’t you go and check for yourself?”

Malfoy glowered. 

“Give me your wand.”

“I’m not handing you my wand.” Daphne rolled her eyes when Crabbe and Goyle took a step closer to her. “But you can inspect it.” 

She reached into her skirt and pulled out her wand, pointing it at Malfoy. An uncomfortable silence settled around them as Malfoy pulled out his own wand and touched its tip with hers. As he pulled it away, pale shadows of the spells she had cast emerged from the tip of her wand.

“A boil hex?” Malfoy scoffed.

“You told me he couldn’t die or be seriously injured last night. Should have been clearer if you wanted me to rough him up more,” Daphne shrugged. “Why do you want him alive anyway? It was so easy to get the jump on him. I’d even have let you take credit for it.”

Harry wanted her to get information. Any titbits she could get out of the idiot in front of her were important. He’d brushed off her questions the night before and she hadn’t pushed too hard, but now she saw her opening and decided to take it.

“Do you want to do it yourself? Would you like me to deliver him to you?” she asked with a smirk.

“He belongs to the Dark Lord,” Malfoy hissed, his pale face losing the little colour it possessed. “Our lord has made it very clear that nobody is to kill Potter. I just wanted him out of the way because he kept following me. Do not kill him unless you want the Dark Lord to destroy you and your family.”

“Gotcha,” Daphne said nonchalantly, throwing off a mock salute with her free hand.

Harry was safe for now. That was strangely reassuring.

“Can we go wherever you want to take me now? It’s freezing.”

“How do I know you used these hexes on Potter?”

“Like I said, you can go check for yourself.”

“I don’t need to.” Malfoy snapped his fingers. “Pingo!”

A house elf appeared next to Daphne with a loud crack. He bowed until his wrinkly, bald head scraped against the floor. 

“Is Harry Potter in the Hospital Wing?”

“Master Potter came to the hospital wing two minutes ago,” Pingo said in a high-pitched voice. “He has been assigned bed 3-A, is covered in boils, and was brought-”

Daphne paled. 

Fortunately, Lady Luck was on her side. Malfoy pointed his wand at the house elf and let loose a blast, cutting the trembling creature off.

“Did I ask you to write me an essay? Get out of my sight!”

Pingo bowed and disappeared with another loud crack.

“Looks like you’re telling the truth.”

“I told you,” Daphne shrugged. “I’m onboard now. I might not be happy about it but I’ll do as I’m told. Can we go now? It’s cold.” She shivered for dramatic effect.

“You might want to cast a heating charm on your cloak, Greengrass. You’ll be spending the night tracking Auror patrol routes. I want a map of them by Monday.”

“Okay. We can take floors one to four. Crabbe and Goyle can do floors five, six, and seven.”

“You misunderstand me. This is your responsibility. We’ll be doing something else.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to know. Get going. You have to map every route in just three nights.”

“Wouldn’t it be helpful if I knew the entire plan?”

She was flailing. It was a sloppy, transparent attempt to get him to talk and even Malfoy saw through it.

“Why are you so curious? A week ago you wanted nothing to do with our cause.”

“I’m just trying to prove my worth to you.” Daphne silently thanked her stars for Malfoy’s massive ego. Anyone who was even slightly more self-aware would have realized how out of character her words were. “I’ll do as I’m told and stop asking unnecessary questions.”

Daphne turned around and began walking away, acutely aware of the three men staring at the back of her head until she was out of sight. Prudence dictated she keep walking. It was highly likely Malfoy had assigned a spy to watch her as well. 

I need to find out what he’s doing, she reminded herself.

With a sigh, Daphne tapped her wand on her forehead, shivering as the sensation of cold water running across her skin covered her from head to toe. Disapparating charm in place, she turned on her heels and marched down the hallway once more, only to find it empty. 

“Fuck,” she swore under head breath. Harry had already tried every combination of desire he could think of. What did Malfoy want from the room? Could it be as simple as asking it that?

“Show me what Malfoy is doing,” Daphne muttered as she paced in front of the blank stone wall. “Show me what Malfoy is doing. Show me what Malfoy is doing.”

Daphne turned expectantly but the wall remained unmoved. It was clear she had a decision to make. She could either hide and wait for Malfoy to emerge or go back to her dormitory in defeat. In the end, she decided to do neither. She banished the invisibility charm and her legs carried her to the Hospital Wing, the girl feeling worse with every step. By the time she opened the door to the dark, silent room and slipped inside, she was close to tears.

“Miss Greengrass, this is a surprise,” Madame Pomfrey said, turning around at the gentle click of the opening door. “Is everything alright?”

The sight of the nurse hunched over Harry finally broke her resolve. The dam burst and tears streamed down her cheeks. She stood in place as Madame Pomfrey rushed over to her and gently guided her to the bed next to Harry’s, gently helping her into it.

“I don’t feel good,” she whispered through the tears.

“Chest tight?” Madame Pomfrey asked. “Heart feels like it’s going to explode? Dizzy?”

Daphne nodded. 

“You know what my advice is, Miss Greengrass,” Madame Pomfrey sighed. “But I will get you a potion and you can spend the night here, okay?” She hurried to a cabinet and unlocked it with a tap of her wand. She retrieved a small vial filled to the brim with a purple potion. “Oh, honey. My door is always open if you need to talk,” she murmured as she walked over to a trembling Daphne. “Drink this, then straight to bed. We will talk more tomorrow,” Madame Pomfrey said as she pressed the uncorked vial against Daphne’s lips. Once she was satisfied Daphne could be safely left to her own devices, she retreated, closing the curtains around her bed with a swish of her wand.

“Your skin is still very sensitive, Mister Potter. An unfortunate side effect of the potion you took. Take your medicated bath,” she pointed to the massive tub placed behind his bed, “and go straight to bed.”

“Yes, Madame Pomfrey,” Harry said.

Harry waited for Madame Pomfrey to retreat to her office before slipping around the closed curtains. Daphne was propped up against the headboard, pillows dumped on the floor and knees pulled up to her chest.

“Daph?”

“I’m a horrible person who hurts people for no reason,” Daphne murmured numbly. “But you don’t have to worry about me. The potion makes everything nice and numb. Can’t believe she won’t let me take it every day.”

“I’m sure there’s a reason for that.” The bed creaked as he sat down next to her. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life feeling numb?” He reached out and gently brushed a strand of blonde hair away from her eyes. 

“It’s better than the alternative. Don’t touch me.” Daphne forced herself to lean away from his hand. “Madame Pomfrey said your skin was sensitive.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I can’t hurt you anymore. You should go take your bath and leave me alone.”

“Forever?”

Yes. I’m cursed. A bad omen. 

“…no,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Why not?”

“I need you.” Morgana, she sounded so unbelievably selfish. She had hexed him, ruined his night, and failed at the one task he had given her. And here she was, making it all about her. “Please?”

“How about we move to my bed and you can supervise me taking that bath? That way you can be sure I don’t goof off.”

“Were you planning on goofing off?” Daphne took his hand and accepted his help in climbing out of the soft bed, landing on unsteady feet.

“It’s late and I didn’t particularly feel like taking a bath if I’m being honest,” Harry replied. They walked over to his bed and Harry walked around the bigger-than-normal space to close the specially arranged curtains, obscuring his bed and the tub from view. 

“But you’d be in pain!”

“I have a surprisingly high pain tolerance,” Harry shrugged. “To be honest, I barely feel the pins and needles. It's like a two on my discomfort scale.”

Daphne didn’t want to think about what he’d gone through to build such a high tolerance. But as he stripped in front of her, the scars dotting his newly bare tanned skin gave her a fairly good idea that the experiences had been numerous and extremely unpleasant.

“Can I bathe you?” she asked before she could stop herself. 

“Are you-”

“I’m fine,” she murmured nervously. “The potion was all I needed. I promise.” She chewed her lip nervously as she watched Harry climb into the tub of heated water, watching the surface ripple around his toned stomach. “So, can I?”

“If you take off your clothes.”

Daphne felt strangely self-conscious as she discarded her cloak and tie. She’d been naked around him before but this felt different. They were crossing an invisible boundary. He was giving her permission to care for him. It wasn’t one-sided anymore and she didn’t know what to make of it.

“Will you tell me the stories behind your scars?” she asked to take her mind off her racing thoughts. Her trembling fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse but they were quickly undone and the white garment joined the rest of her clothes on the floor.

“All of them?”

“The main ones,” Daphne said as she wriggled out of her skirt. She pulled the straps of her blue bra down her arms, unclipping the clasp and unceremoniously dropping the lacy bra to the floor. Her white socks and shoes were the last to go. She shyly crossed her arms in front of her when she noticed his gaze fixed squarely on her. “Stop looking.”

“Why?”

“It’s considered impolite to spy on a lady in her bath. Some things are supposed to be private, young man,” she giggled tearfully. “Thank you. For being there even when I don’t deserve it.”

“This isn’t a quid pro quo, Daphne.” Harry reached out and took her hand, helping her into the tub. He sat impassively as she waddled to move behind him. Her slender arms snaked around his waist. “Whatever happened tonight won’t change how I feel about you.”

Daphne desperately wanted to ask exactly what his feelings about her were but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she concentrated on massaging his muscular back with the medicated water, gently working on the knots in his tense muscles.

“Do you want me to tell you what happened?”

“It can wait. Hermione and Ron are keeping a watch on him through a map I own. The moment he comes out of that room, we’ll know," Harry said, nodding to the coin on the nightstand. “Do you still want to talk about my scars, princess?”

“What’s your safeword?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You deserve one too,” Daphne said firmly. “What if you’re uncomfortable and want me to stop?”

“Alright,” Harry chuckled. “It's mittens. Does that work?”

“Yes, sir.” Daphne pulled herself closer to him. Her stiff nipples gently brushed against his skin. The suppressed shiver it elicited from him caused her to smile. “What about this one?” she asked, gently brushing her lips against a long, thick mark on his right shoulder. 

“Curling iron. I took too long in the bathroom and my Aunt used it to push me out. Apparently, she didn’t think it would be hot fifteen minutes after she’d used it.”

Daphne’s nails dug into his arm and he winced. 

“Sorry, daddy!” she squeaked and pulled away from him. “They thought fifteen minutes was too long? She used a curling iron on you?” she asked in an appalled whisper.

“Wasn’t the worst appliance I’ve encountered. Dudley once threw a skillet at me. No scar from that, he has terrible aim,” Harry laughed. “I got ten minutes in the bathroom for most of my childhood.”

“They can’t do that.”

“They did. It’s fine, it’s all in the past. Can you get the rest of me, please?” Harry asked, leaning over the edge of the tub. “It feels weird for my ass to be the only part of me that’s still tingling.”

“What about these?” Daphne asked in a horrified whisper. Her fingers trailed over thin white tracks on his back. 

“Belt marks. Once upon a time, my uncle thought he could beat the unnaturalness out of me. Obviously, the lessons didn’t take.”

Daphne silently vowed that she would make every single person who had ever hurt Harry pay. She’d get them all, even if it took her the rest of her life.

“Will you think I’m weird if I say your fingers on my ass feel heavenly?”

“Not at all,” Daphne said. Her fingers gently massaged his firm cheeks, making sure to cover every bit of his skin with multiple splashes of water. “Do you like massages?”

“Hermione took me to a spa over the summer. It was great.”

“Mhmm. You’re getting a massage every Sunday.”

“You don’t have to-”

“That wasn’t a request, sir,” Daphne murmured. Her fingers ghosted over another burn mark on his lower back. “Curling iron again?”

“Hex. Malfoy hexed me while my back was turned a couple of years ago. He used enchanted flames and they left a mark.”

Aunt. Uncle. Cousin. Malfoy.

Her list was growing. 

“Turn around,” she ordered, working to keep her voice steady and relatively rage-free. Once Harry had turned to face her, her nimble fingers got to work on his chest before making him raise his arms so she could massage them and his sides. “What about this one?” she asked, tracing a diamond-shaped mark on his arm.

“Basilisk tooth. Honestly, I thought I was a goner but Fawkes saved the day.”

“What?” Daphne stared blankly at him. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“Surely you heard the rumours.”

“Yes, but there’s no way… oh.” Her eyes widened. “There was a Basilisk in the school?! You killed it?!”

“I had help from Fawkes and the Sorting Hat. Honestly, it wasn’t the scariest creature I’ve faced. Did you forget the dragon? I know I haven’t.”

Daphne wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself onto his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder and leaned up to gently kiss his jaw.

“You’ve had a tough life, haven’t you?”

“Looks like I’m not the only one. I’m not going to insist on anything but I want you to know that when you’re ready to talk, I’ll be around,” Harry murmured.

“Thank you, Harry.” 

She snuggled into his warm, inviting chest and let his quiet humming lull her to sleep.

Notes:

Me looking at Haphne: I just think they're neat! Idk, they are sorta my comfort ship. Always have been. You know, I've flirted with Yandere!Daphne in the past, but I think this is the story I commit to it. It's all fun having Amelia or Sirius threaten the Dursleys, but I wanna see Daphne do it, ya know? I bet some of you want to see that as well. Someone needs to be in his corner amidst all the greater good. I know my audience well. Or, I think I do. Anyway, I hope you liked your fix of Anxious!Daphne caring for her Harry.