Amour Et Officium Ch. 10

Content Warnings: Teasing.

“Strangest. Birthday. Ever,” Harry mumbled, collapsing back onto the pillow propped up against the headrest of the bed in his room.

Daphne was lounging in the armchair with Sue on her lap. The tiny Ravenclaw had her head buried in Daphne’s chest. She was fast asleep, her quiet, adorable snores piercing the comfortable silence that enveloped the room.

“Really, husband? I’d never have guessed. I thought it was normal for a man to start his eighteenth birthday with one betrothal and end it with five relationships,” Daphne teased sarcastically, gently running her fingers through Sue’s silky black hair. Sue mumbled in her sleep, shifting to a more comfortable position and burrowing deeper into Daphne’s warmth. “At least Weasley and Susan took it in stride.”

“You were worried?”

“You weren’t?” Came the prompt reply.

“I didn’t know enough about Susan to be worried. I worried about Ginny’s reaction only because she’s my thrall. I wasn’t sure how one would react in such a situation.”

“Well, she handled it with grace and magnanimity. Makes me sorry she’ll never be your wife. Her brother… not so much.”

“You thought there was a future where I’d end up marrying Ron?”

Daphne pouted at the amused smile on her husband’s face. She chucked a small throw pillow at his bare chest, “be serious. And-” She wagged her finger threateningly. “If you make that same old tired joke about Sirius being your godfather, I swear you’ll be kicked out of our bedroom before we even move in.”

Harry threw his hands up in surrender. “I know your relationship with him is… frosty, at best, but his behavior today is completely unlike him. I think the knowledge that his crush is to marry his friend and that he never had a chance with her made him… act out a bit.”

“Act out, huh? Is that what we’re calling what he did today? He all but called you a kidnapper and glory hound, Harry.”

Harry ignored her question. He knew he was being generous in defending his friend’s actions, but if he put himself in Ron’s shoes for a minute… “It’s not easy, suddenly realizing you don’t have a chance with someone you think you love,” Harry guessed, having no personal experience in the area. His love life was the one area of normalcy in an otherwise turbulent life, ignoring, of course, the very rushed developments over the course of a mere forty-eight hours. “I had no clue he had a crush on Susan.”

“Well, his ‘one true love’ didn’t stop him from slobbering all over your Veela mate,” Daphne pointed out sardonically, her head tilting to look at the shut bathroom door, taking in the quiet pattering of water hitting the floor as Fleur showered.

“Daphne…”

Daphne scowled at the quiet sigh. “Daddy, you don’t get to act like a martyr for having a gorgeous Veela bound to you. Sue and I told you we were okay with it, and we are. Her questionable taste in fashion and utter disdain for our food may be annoying-” She scowled. “But it’s not enough to throw her to the tender mercies of the blonde idiot in my house. I’ve seen firsthand what he can do to women. Pansy wasn’t an utter bitch before she started dating him, you know? He took her apart, piece by piece, until she was just as vapid and shallow as her Prince Charming. Love can be a shitty thing. It has an unparalleled ability to turn the smartest people in the world into idiots. You don’t have to look any further than moi for an example,” she muttered, mimicking Fleur’s heavy accent.

Harry was smart enough not to respond to her words. Discretion was often the better part of valor, and it was definitely the case when it came to disputes between his partners. He decided it was prudent not to point out that the only reason Daphne didn’t mesh as well with Fleur as she had with Sue was that the two women were too alike.

I do that and I’ll definitely have to sleep on the couch for a month, he thought, setting the logs piled up in the fireplace alight with a lazy flick of his wand. It was unseasonably cold for July. The heavy fog settling outside their window that now obscured all of Diagon Alley from view certainly didn’t help matters.

“It is too cold,” Fleur declared as she walked out of the bathroom, her heavy accent causing both Harry and Daphne to need a second to process her words.

Daphne turned to look at the naked blonde. The Veela was lazily drying her hair with a towel, her body as naked as the day she was born. Daphne had a type when it came to women, and while Fleur most definitely was not her type, even she had to admit the Frenchwoman was absolutely breathtaking.

Her body was built like the statues and paintings of Aphrodite she had studied while on her visit to the Louvre. Her platinum blonde hair fell to her lower back, every strand appearing to be sunlight captured in physical form. Her full blood-red lips were somehow the least remarkable feature on her face.

I’d kill for cheekbones like those, Daphne thought to herself, trying her best not to devolve into the stereotypical jealous wife.

“You know, Delacour, us mere mortals often wear a little something called clothes when we’re cold,” Daphne muttered, trying to ignore her growing attraction to the girl. It was Veela physiology, she reminded herself. They were built to be irresistible to all they came across, nothing more.

The idea that she was actually into the snobby French girl made her want to fling herself out the window.

“I can think of other ways to stay warm,” Fleur whispered, padding towards Harry. Harry’s eyes were fixed on her large breasts, the largest he had ever seen with perhaps Susan being the only exception. They were heavy enough that they swayed independently with each step and before he knew it she was standing in front of him.

“Wh-What’re you doing?” Harry asked, his throat suddenly dry. The older woman had climbed onto his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist as she pulled herself closer.

“Getting warm,” Fleur murmured, her nipples hardening into stiff, crinkled nubs in the cold air of the room.

“N-not like this,” Harry muttered with great reluctance, unable to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

“Non?” Fleur asked, tilting her head, clearly confused. She wasn’t used to men rejecting her advances. Daphne simply watched the exchange in silence, a satisfied smirk plastered on her face.

Harry’s unlike any man you’ve met, she thought, running her fingers through Sue’s silky hair.

“You had no problem this morning, Harry Potter,” Fleur murmured, slipping off his lap and onto the bed. She wrapped a blanket around her body, looking at Harry with a curious expression on her face.

“That was different. I knew Sue. I grew up with Daphne. If this is happening, Fleur, I’d like to do it properly.”

“Properly?”

“I’d like to get to know you. I’d love to date you, Fleur.”

“You understood what a bride price is, didn’t know, Harry? Maman was clear in explaining it to you, yes?”

“I understand very well, Fleur. In fact, I have a thrall bound to me. But I do not treat her any less than I would Daphne, and I will extend the same courtesy to you.”

“You want to date me?” Fleur frowned. “I have never been… dated before.”

Harry chuckled at her odd choice of words. “Well, then, I’d be honored to be your first. In fact, I’d like to make a deal. We hold off on anything sexual until we know each other better, deal?” He extended his hand towards her.

She gently grasped it, giving it a firm shake. “Deal,” she replied, a radiant smile on her face.

Platform 9 ¾, King’s Cross:

“Why are you here?” Harry asked, coughing as the now familiar smoke from the Hogwarts Express billowed around them.

“What do you mean?”

His godfather’s voice was casual but the underlying tension in it, combined with the tense muscles of his neck and the way he kept one hand buried in his pocket (presumably clutched around his wand) gave him a good idea as to the reason behind his presence.

“Do you think he’d come here? With so many witches and wizards around? Is that why Amelia arranged for an Auror escort?” Harry shook his head. Everyone talked about Lupin like the man was nothing short of Merlin himself. He supposed escaping from an inescapable prison did provide some basis for even the most fantastical tales. “He’d have to be utterly mad.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Sirius murmured, leaning against a pillar with a sigh. “When the Aurors cornered him after he’d blown poor Wormtail to bits, you know what he did, Harry?”

“Tried to escape?” It was the logical answer, but he had a feeling it was also the wrong one.

Sirius chuckled darkly. “If only. He simply smiled and extended his arms and asked them if they would be so kind as to cuff him. Blew up half a street, nearly killed Sue’s father, did manage to kill Wormtail, and at the end of it all… he simply went quietly with the people who had come to arrest him.”

“That’s…”

“The war took a toll on him. We were all blind to it, kiddo. Not a day goes by when I don’t wonder… maybe if I had been there for him, he wouldn’t have thrown in with the rest of his kind and joined Voldemort.” Sirius sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. A month had passed with no sign of his old friend.

Harry’s plan to ask his godfather about Lupin’s mysterious condition was interrupted by Sue running up to him with a big smile, giving his hand a gentle tug.

“Where are we going?” Harry laughed, letting the tiny girl pull him along.

“To meet my father!”

Harry looked back at Sirius, who simply smirked and waved. He could see Daphne with her best friend, Tracey and her parents in the distance. Lord Greengrass had not bothered to come to the station to see his daughters off to their new year at school. Nor had he made any attempt to contact or visit Daphne aside from the stiff congratulations delivered at his birthday party. Daphne acted like it didn’t affect her, but he knew her well enough to see through the indifferent act she had put on for the other members of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

After a month of seeing her suffer quietly, too proud to admit she missed her distant father and far too stubborn to talk about her feelings, it was good to see her with Tracey’s parents, who he had learned during their frequent coffee meetings with the mousy-haired girl loved Daphne and Astoria as their own daughters. Daphne was smiling and laughing, a sight for sore eyes.

On the other end of the spectrum, Harry could see Mrs. Weasley tearfully fussing over all her children. He locked eyes with Fred who was trying to twist his way out of Mrs. Weasley’s attempt to comb his hair, giving him a helpless shrug in response to the redhead’s quiet plea for help.

Fleur was having a quiet moment with her parents by the entrance to the station. Harry for his part had kept his promise to Fleur, taking the time to get to know her before they jumped into bed, although his determination was weakening by the day. The sexual tension had gotten so bad that it was apparent to everyone else in the house, and even Sue had taken to copying Sirius’ habit of wolf-whistling every time any of them spotted the two having a quiet moment together.

Mr. Delacour had resigned from his post as Head of the French Magical Government’s Department of International Cooperation and taken up residence as the new ambassador to Britain instead. A demotion, but one, as he put it, he had no regret taking. He admired the man for doing what he needed to keep his daughter safe.

My parents did the same.

Sue’s father, however… the man confused Harry. The man had fled Britain soon after Lupin’s trial, leaving Sue in her grandmother’s care. Harry could understand not wanting to remain after what had happened, although he did not know why he hadn’t taken Sue with him.

Not all parents are alike, he reminded himself, smiling politely at the man in front of him.

“Father,” Sue murmured, bowing slightly. Harry copied her action, using the momentary protection from scrutiny to study the short man. He seemed to be of a nervous deposition, with a twitchy handlebar mustache and a profusely sweating forehead that he periodically kept dabbing with a handkerchief.

“Sue. And this must be Harry Potter!” The man squeaked, appearing half-afraid that his future son-in-law would hurt him. “Truly an honor, truly an honor,” he mumbled, grasping his right hand with both of his hands and shaking it for a second or two before letting go.

“The honor is all mine, Mr. Li,” Harry replied politely. “Thank you for entrusting your daughter in my care. I couldn't have asked for a better fiancee,” Harry murmured, his hand reaching out to grab Sue’s. He gently squeezed her hand, winking at the blushing girl.

“Oh, you must thank her mother, god rest her soul. It was her idea. I-Jun had always been such close friends with your mother.”

“I will thank her memory, and that of my mother’s,” Harry replied with a polite smile.

He was saved from any further stilted conversation by the train’s whistle.

“We should leave,” he said, turning to Sue.

“Of course, of course. Have a good year, Sue,” her father muttered, giving them a small wave in response to her bow.

The man appeared to be a nervous wreck, which Harry put down to his truly horrible luck. To come back to a country you had sworn off on unavoidable business just in time for your biggest nemesis to stage a prison break?

The man had truly appalling luck.

He helped Sue onto the train before climbing up himself, the two quietly making their way through the busy carriages to the empty one Susan had discovered. Daphne had the foresight to make them all dump their luggage into the compartment before they got down to say their goodbyes, thereby effectively reserving the compartment for themselves.

Harry pushed open the sliding door to find Daphne and Tracey having already occupied the seats closest to the window, both of them wrestling with the truly monstrous Care of Magical Creatures they had been assigned for the year.

“Do I want to know what happened?” Harry asked, taking a seat on the floor close to the door while Sue walked over to help the other two girls in trapping the book in Daphne’s empty owl cage.

“My bag ripped, darling,” Daphne replied, ignoring her bleeding finger in favor of shoving the snapping book one last time. The book found itself pushed into the cage and Sue quickly shut the door before picking up the cage and setting it up on the luggage rack.

“Here, you might want to cover it with this. Who in their right mind would assign us such a book?” Hermione asked testily as she stepped into the compartment. She took off her cloak and tossed it over the rattling cage.

“I take it Ron’s not coming?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No. He still maintains you stole… Susan!” Hermione turned to the quiet redhead with a smile, shifting to make space for her on the bench.

“Mione. Harry,” Susan murmured, a nervous smile on her face. Out of all his partners, he knew her the least. Other than the few coffee and ice cream dates scattered over the month after his birthday, he hadn’t really gotten a chance to know her. Something he planned to change once they got to school.

“What’re we talking about?”

“How some people from other countries might have difficulty understanding what’s proper and what isn’t.” Daphne deflected Susan’s question deftly, nodding in Harry’s direction. Fleur had entered the compartment and plopped down on Harry’s lap without even bothering to try and make space to sit on the two benches.

Harry hissed quietly as his bride’s large bum expertly nestled his growing arousal, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the Veela knew exactly what she was doing.

“Maybe it is just Englishwomen who have a big stick of morality up their asses, Mrs. Black,” Fleur replied, unfazed by Daphne’s jab. The other inhabitants of the compartment ignored them, far too used to their banter by now to really be affected by their words. “Have you tried other things? I can name quite a few that are far more pleasurable than that stick.”

“I bet you can,” Daphne muttered, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

“My brother is an utter tool!” The slam of the compartment door made everyone jump, with all eyes turning to look at Ginny’s red-faced, furious visage.

“What happened?” Harry asked with a small frown. He had discovered his ability to sense his thrall was inversely proportional to the distance between them, and while he had felt some minor prickling in the back of his mind, he had put it down to Ginny’s annoyance at having to navigate a train full of people.

“He suggested I ask Hermione to help me find a way out of our bond,” Ginny snarled, sitting on the floor opposite Harry. She leaned against Hermione’s legs, sighing softly when Harry took her foot in his hand. He slipped off her sandal and gently massaged her sole, causing her expression to soften.

“You can tell him to bugger off. I’m not here to enable his insecurities. Especially not after what he said about Crookshanks,” Hermione growled, cuddling the ill-tempered tabby in her arms.

“Well, I told him that maybe he should stop and consider the fact that I might not want to get out of the bond.”

“What’d he say then?” Daphne asked.

“He called me a whore.”

“He what?!” Harry growled. The hurt in his thrall’s eyes was clear as day, even to those who did not share the bond he did with her. He saw red, his connection with Ginny letting her hurt flow into him and amplifying his already present annoyance at his best friend.

Best friend or not, he was going to throw the idiot out of the moving train.

“Harry, wait-” Harry didn’t heed Daphne’s warning. He had already set Fluer down on the ground and gotten to his feet, stalking out of the compartment before anyone could catch up to him.

“Well, someone needs to go stop him from murdering Weasley,” Tracey said, highly amused by the whole debacle. If someone had thought to ask her (which they hadn’t), she’d have told them that Weasley deserved whatever punishment Harry dished out.

“As much as I want to see my husband tear his idiot friend a new one, I do not want him to spend the next three months in detention. I’ll go,” Daphne muttered, weaving her way through the crowded compartment. She stepped out into the carpeted hallways, sighing at the sight of Harry at the very end of the carriage, angrily pushing open the door.

By the time she caught up with him, he had already located Ron and pulled him into an empty bathroom. She slipped into the tiny cubicle, only to come face-to-face with Ron bent over the sink, Harry’s wand shoved in his face.

“Boys.”

Both of them turned to look at Daphne, who simply cocked an eyebrow in response. “Let’s make this quick, shall we? People saw me enter this bathroom after the two of you and I have no desire for the school to think that I’m spicing up my marriage with a threesome with you, Weasley.” Her lip curled in disgust. “No offense.” Her tone of voice highly implied that she did mean to cause offense. “But if the choice for a threesome came down between you and the Bloody Baron, I’d choose the ghost,” she said coldly.

She reached out and pushed her husband’s wand away from Ron’s eyes, gently grasping his wand. “It’s not worth it, Harry,” she whispered, pulling her husband away from his self-absorbed best friend. Harry complied reluctantly. If looks could kill, the redhead would have been a pile of ash from the anger directed at him by his best friend.

“Weasley,” her voice was pure ice. “Stay away from Susan. I can promise you, she is barely aware of your existence. Stop acting like the two of you are married. And if you say another word to your sister-” She slipped in between the two men, a dangerous smile on her face. “Harry won’t be the one hexing you. And I promise you when I hex people… it’s not pleasant.”

Her dramatic gesture of poking his chest was cut short by the train shuddering to a halt. Daphne was thrown back, the girl groaning quietly as her back collided with a wall. She looked out the window, at the dense fog that seemed to have collected all around the train.

She turned her head in the opposite direction at the gentle scraping that signified the bathroom door being opened. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the skeletal hand, an intense feeling of gloom and despair settling over her.

“Harry,” she rasped, trying to fight the dementor’s effects on her. “Step away from the door.”

Her warning came far too late. Harry had already collapsed.

Notes:

A plot-filled chapter for this week's update to Amour Et Officium, because I needed to move the story forward. A lot of important plot points are introduced in the story, and a potential source of drama going forward is also established. The next updates will be to The Power He Knows Not and Undercover, both of which will be published on Tuesday. A Happy New Year to everyone and thank you for your support!