" – Unfortunately, the malediction had affected you more severely than we originally thought."
Daphne's heart thundered in her chest. The room seemed to shrink, the walls pressing inward until she could barely breathe. Her fingers dug into the edge of the chair as if it were the only thing anchoring her to the moment.
" – Despite the curse briefly manifesting in you when you were young, the damage it had done is… irreparable."
The word irreparable echoed in her mind like a death knell. It felt as though someone had reached into her chest and crushed her heart in their fist. A wave of nausea rolled over her, the kind that no potion could ever quell.
" – I cannot stress this enough: trying again could have severe, potentially fatal, consequences for your health."
Her vision blurred, tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. She felt as though the ground beneath her had cracked open, threatening to swallow her whole. She needed something, someone – desperately, achingly.
She needed him.
" – Potter."
Her husband. Her Harry.
"Lady Potter!"
The voice broke through the fog of despair, jolting her back to the present. Daphne blinked and realized the Medi-witch was holding her hand, concern etched into every line of her face. Daphne's gaze dropped to their clasped hands, and that's when she noticed the wetness on her cheeks.
She was crying. She hadn't cried – not since her twins were born.
"Forgive me…" she murmured, her voice surprisingly steady given the tempest inside her. She brushed at her tears with trembling fingers, trying to gather the shards of her composure. "I… lost myself for a moment."
The healer sighed, pulling a chair close and sitting down. "You don't have to be brave with me, Lady Potter."
Daphne swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat. Her instinct was to shut it all away, to hide behind her well-practiced mask of poise and detachment. But the dam had already broken, and the words poured out, raw and unfiltered.
"It was always our dream…" she began hoarsely, her voice cracking. Her shoulders shook as another wave of tears fell, unchecked this time. "We tried for so long, hoping, praying…"
The Medi-witch squeezed her hand gently, a small, silent gesture of compassion.
"When I found out," Daphne continued, her voice thick with emotion, "I wanted to tell him right away. But… I held back. I wanted it to be special."
"I knew I was…" She shook her head, her hand drifted to her stomach, resting just below the navel. "This should've been our miracle. And now… now it's gone. How can I face him?"
Her voice faltered, breaking into a whisper. "How can I ever tell him?"
The silence that followed was deafening, her words hanging in the air like a ghost. Daphne suddenly stiffened, realizing how much she had bared, how vulnerable she had allowed herself to become.
"I've shown you something unsightly," the blonde said abruptly, standing and straightening her blouse with trembling hands. "Forgive me."
"Lady Potter – "
" – Thank you for your time, Healer Mandy." Daphne's voice was clipped now, the carefully constructed facade slipping back into place. She stepped back, retreating into the only armour she had left. Her dignity.
The healer stood; her expression heavy. "Just a few forms to sign before I can let you leave," she said, walking toward the door. But before opening it, she paused, turning back.
"May I offer you some advice, Lady Potter?"
Daphne nodded, though her body was stiff, every muscle coiled tight with barely contained emotion.
"Tell him," The healer said softly. "He loves you. He deserves to know."
The words pierced through Daphne's defences, lingering long after the healer had left the room.
She stood there, alone in the suffocating silence, her hand still resting over the emptiness that should have been their miracle.
– X –
"Gently, girls. Don't excite him too much. I don't want to have to detangle you three again after what he did last time."
A chorus of hisses followed by giggles filled the air as Daphne stepped into the living room of Potter Manor. The late afternoon's darkening light spilled through the tall, arched windows, casting golden streaks across the richly adorned space. The scene before her was nothing short of absurd, and it brought her to a halt. Her eyebrows rose in alarm as she surveyed the ridiculous spectacle in front of her.
"What in Morgana's name is going on here?"
"Oh, you're home."
The familiar voice pulled her gaze to the loveseat, where Harry sat. Bright, emerald eyes – the ones she could always find in a crowd – met hers, glinting with warmth and mischief. His unruly, jet-black hair was as wild as ever, defying even the faintest attempt at taming. And then there was his smile: a crooked little smirk that teetered between teasing and adoring. It made her heart stumble, just as it had the first time he sent it her way.
"Mummy!"
A high-pitched squeal preceded the solid thump of a tiny body colliding with her legs, nearly sending her off balance.
Daphne looked down to find her mirror image staring back at her, save for a mop of jet-black hair and a slightly upturned nose – the latter of which Harry never stopped boasting about, as if it were his greatest accomplishment.
"Ophelia, baby." Her smile softened as she scooped up her daughter, pressing a flurry of kisses to the child's round cheeks, delighting in the bubbly giggles that followed. That sound alone could mend the cracks in her weary heart. "Kiss for mummy?"
Ophelia puckered her lips dramatically and planted a wet, enthusiastic kiss on her cheek, drawing a laugh from Daphne. She kissed her daughter back, nuzzling her with unabashed affection.
"Hullo, mummy!"
Daphne felt her skirt being tugged insistently and looked down to see her eldest grinning at her, his expression so unfiltered and exuberant that it tugged at her heart.
Alexander.
If Harry had been reincarnated as a mischievous little boy, it would have been Alex. The emerald-green eyes, high cheekbones, and stubborn tilt of his chin were all Harry's, right down to the messy charm that always made her heart skip. But the soft curls, the way they framed his face in gentle black waves, were hers – a little piece of her woven into this perfect blend of them both.
"Oh, Alex, look at the state of you." She knelt, one arm still cradling Ophelia as her free hand smoothed Alex's hair with practiced care. A flick of her wand banished the grime and saliva from his small frame, courtesy of the Runespoor lounging nearby. The three snake heads looked away guiltily under Daphne's sharp glare, their collective pout almost comical.
"Mummy, look!" Alex wiggled, opening his mouth wide with a triumphant grin. "My toof's gone!"
Daphne gasped theatrically, leaning in to inspect the small gap in his smile. "When did that happen?" she asked, her voice laced with mock horror.
"Sometime around noon," Harry supplied from his seat, his tone filled with good-natured amusement. "I had cut him an apple, and a bite later and poof – out it came."
Daphne's brow furrowed with worry. "Aww, does it hurt, baby?" she asked, her fingers brushing gently against Alex's cheek.
"Nope!" Alex declared, his voice brimming with pride. "Look, I can fit my tongue in it!" He demonstrated with glee, wiggling his tongue through the gap, earning a delighted laugh from his mother.
She kissed his forehead lingeringly, savouring the innocence and energy that radiated from him before he shot off to join the Runespoor, which welcomed him with playful hisses. Watching her son wrestle with the magical serpent as if it were the family dog, Daphne couldn't help but shake her head with a bemused smile.
"You're home from work early." Harry's teasing voice cut through the moment, effortlessly drawing her attention.
The-Man-Who-Conquered, they called him. The Premier Mage of Magical Britain. The strongest wizard of his age. His name was immortalized in history, his triumphs etched into stone for generations to revere. To the world, he was a beacon of hope, a protector, and the avenger of countless lives lost.
But to Daphne, none of that grandeur mattered. To her, he was just Harry – her Harry. The man who held their family together with an unshakable tenderness. Her best friend, her partner, the father of her children. He was her anchor in a world that often threatened to spin out of control. He was everything.
Ophelia squirmed in her arms, her little body radiating boundless energy. Daphne set her down with a soft laugh, watching as their daughter darted toward her father with unbridled excitement. Harry sat amid a small pile of parchment and crayons, his trousers coloured in, his sleeves rolled up haphazardly.
The sight was so quintessentially Harry – chaotic, endearing, and entirely unguarded – that her chest ached with a love so fierce it almost hurt. In a world that saw him as larger than life, Daphne cherished these stolen moments of simplicity, where he was just a husband, a father, and her heart's home.
She drew in a steadying breath, pushing aside the shadow of darker emotions that had haunted her earlier that day.
"Missed me, Potter?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she sauntered toward him, a smirk tugging at her lips as she watched his eyes trail her body.
It was ridiculous how sexy he made her feel.
His eyes brightened at her tone, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward. But as she neared, her teasing expression gave way to one of tender awe. In his arms, nestled close against his chest, were two tiny bundles, both sound asleep.
Her heart swelled at the sight of the twin boys, their tiny faces peaceful and serene, a stark contrast to the chaos she imagined had unfolded earlier.
Daphne eased herself onto the seat beside Harry, careful not to jostle the babies. Leaning in, she kissed the tops of their soft heads, inhaling their familiar baby scent that always managed to soothe her.
"More than you know," Harry replied, his voice carrying a mix of exasperation and fondness. "These nuggets have been a handful all day – Charles especially. And, of course, when Charles kicks off – "
" – Arthur isn't far behind," Daphne finished with a knowing giggle, carefully taking Charles from his arms. The baby stirred briefly but settled as she cradled him close.
"No kiss for your poor husband?" Harry asked, his tone mock-wounded.
Daphne rolled her eyes, but a small smile betrayed her amusement. She leaned in, pressing her lips to his. His hand came up to cradle her cheek, and he nipped playfully at her bottom lip, earning a soft laugh.
"Behave, you," she murmured, brushing her lips against his once more before pulling back.
Harry's grin softened and he wrapped his now-free arm around her waist, drawing her against him. She let out a quiet sigh as she nestled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. The warmth of his presence, the steady rise and fall of his breath – it was a haven she needed more than she cared to admit.
"Busy day at the shop?" he asked.
"A little," Daphne replied with a soft huff. "Some of our more popular potions were out of stock, and a few customers felt the need to share their opinions about it."
"Oh?"
His tone was light, perfectly unassuming, but Daphne caught the subtle edge beneath it.
"Nothing I couldn't handle, my love," she assured him, patting his thigh. "You know no one would ever dare to offend me directly."
"Because they know what's good for them," Harry muttered darkly. "This is why I keep telling you to take the girls with you."
Daphne let out a laugh, the sound warm and clear. "And then we'd never see a customer again, Harry," she said, glancing at the massive Runespoor; one of its head's lazily nudging Alexander back every time he lunged forward with his wooden sword.
Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't hold back a small smirk.
"And what about you, mister? What did you get up to while I was hard at work?" Daphne asked coyly, leaning up her head to look at her husband's gorgeous green eyes.
Harry couldn't help but brushing his lips against Daphne's before speaking. "Stayed at home mainly. Though I did take the kids to see the new Griffins. 'Lia's accidental magic was acting up again so I wanted to cheer her up. You know how it makes her feel all queasy."
Daphne nodded, looking sympathetically to her daughter who was now scribbling intently by their legs. The little girl's tongue stuck out in concentration as she drew, utterly absorbed in her work.
"I was supposed to attend the ICW meeting today, but it got cancelled. Apparently, the Supreme Mugwump had a rather… eventful evening last night," Harry added, his tone amused.
Daphne wrinkled her nose. "They finally caught him in the act, then?"
Harry chuckled. "French Minister sent Hit-Wizards to his house. Thought he might've died or something. Instead, they found him passed out stark naked. The women he'd entertained the night before had already made off with his valuables."
"Serves the old pervert right," Daphne sniffed, though her expression softened. "Still, I feel for his wife. Didn't you say she was in Paraguay for work?"
"Mmhmm. It was common news that their marriage was already on the rocks. She wanted some time apart and had unfortunately came back to this. This was definitely the final nail in the coffin." He sighed, but the glint in his eyes quickly returned as he glanced down at Daphne. "Though I can't see us ending up like that – not even when we're old and grey."
"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow at his mischievous smile. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Harry grinned. "I've got a feeling that even then, our bed will be as active as ever."
His playful remark was met with a strained smile as Daphne looked away, the light in her eyes dimming.
Harry's brow furrowed; his teasing tone replaced with quiet concern. "Hey… you okay?"
Daphne swallowed hard, the warmth of his embrace tempting her to open up, to let him in. She went to answer but the words stuck in her throat, weighed down by fear and doubt. Instead, she nodded against his shoulder, hoping the small gesture would be enough to satisfy him.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The soft sounds of Ophelia's crayons scratching against parchment and the giggles of Alexander washed over them. It was almost too peaceful, too fragile – like the slightest disturbance could shatter the moment.
Charles stirred in her arms, letting out a tiny, sleepy whimper. Daphne rocked him gently, humming under her breath. She could feel Harry watching her, his gaze warm and steady.
"You're a natural, you know," he said unexpectedly, his tone full of quiet admiration.
Daphne looked up, her lips curving into a small, wistful smile. "It doesn't feel like it some days," she admitted softly.
Harry reached over, brushing a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. His touch was featherlight, but it carried the weight of unspoken support. "You're doing more than you realize," he said. "More than I could ever ask for."
Her chest tightened at his words, a mix of gratitude and guilt flooding her. She shifted her gaze back to Charles, watching his tiny chest rise and fall in rhythm with her own breaths.
"I just… want to be enough," she whispered, barely audible.
"You are."
The conviction in his voice made her look up. His emerald eyes bore into hers, unwavering. "You've always been enough, baby. For me, for them. Always."
Her throat tightened, and she blinked rapidly, fighting back the sting of tears.
It was too much.
"Harry, I – "
A sudden brash screech tore through the moment, followed by a loud, resounding thump. Both turned sharply toward the commotion, their tender moment abruptly shattered.
The sight before them was pure chaos. The large Runespoor lay sprawled against the far wall, its three heads hopelessly tangled, each one hissing indignantly whilst Alex giggled uncontrollably from the other side of the room, his body practically radiating the effects of accidental magic.
Harry groaned, his expression somewhere between exasperation and resignation. "What did I tell you lot?"
The Runespoor responded with an offended chorus of hisses, their discordant tones an argument that went entirely over Daphne's head but clearly not Harry's. He sighed, rolling his eyes at the trio of female heads bickering among themselves.
And of course, as expected, the chaos didn't end there.
A loud wail pierced the air. Loud noises and babies? Never a good combination.
Daphne adjusted her hold on Charles, gently rocking him as his tiny face scrunched in distress, his cries escalating. "Here, I'll take them upstairs. You deal with this… situation."
Harry's eyes softened with gratitude as he nodded. "Thanks, love. Winky."
A soft pop heralded the arrival of the aged house-elf. Despite the lines etched on her face, Winky radiated energy, her demeanour as sprightly as ever.
"Master Harry, Mistress Daphne," Winky greeted with a slight bow, her large eyes bright and attentive.
"Help Daphne take the twins to bed, would you, Winky?" Harry asked, bending to press a kiss to Arthur's forehead. The baby, surprisingly quiet amidst the chaos, blinked up at him with wide eyes.
"Of course, Master Harry," Winky replied with a nod, scurrying to Daphne's side.
"Harry, about Alex's accidental magic – "
" – It's perfectly fine, Daphne," Harry interjected gently. He stepped closer, brushing his knuckles along her cheek before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. He knew her worries ran deep, especially when it came to their children. Their magic was stronger, more unpredictable than most, and though every assurance from healers and magical experts had tried to put her at ease, her concern persisted.
"I'm here, aren't I?" he said with a wink, his playful tone cutting through her tension like sunlight through clouds.
She huffed, though the tightness in her shoulders eased. There was nowhere safer after all.
"Bathe them, would you?" she teased lightly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Harry rolled his eyes, looking warily at his daughter who had somehow ignored the entire ordeal around her and instead, had taken out her painting set and somehow managed to cover herself, the carpet and couch in a mirage of colours.
"Fine. Right after I sort this mess out," he replied, motioning toward the tangled Runespoor with mock weariness.
"Thanks, love." Daphne leaned in and kissed him softly, grinning into his lips when she felt him pat her bum before pulling back with a playful smile. Blowing him a kiss, she strolled toward the stairs, Winky at her side, Charles nestled against her shoulder and Arthur in tow.
Harry shook his head as her figure disappeared and turned back to the Runespoor, his hands on his hips. "Right, ladies," he muttered, his voice dry but amused. "Let's untangle you for the fourth time."
– X –
Since she could remember, sleep had been a distant, elusive friend to Daphne. Nights spent staring at the canopy of her oversized four-poster bed, feeling every inch of its luxurious emptiness, had defined her childhood. Born into wealth and prestige, she had grown up in a home that had everything but warmth. The vastness of her surroundings was mirrored in her soul – a hollow ache of solitude.
That was before Harry.
That night at Hogwarts when she first slept in his arms, it wasn't just rest she found. It was sanctuary. The memory of it was vivid, etched into her heart like a favourite chapter in a cherished book. His arms wrapped around her, his steady heartbeat against her cheek – it was her first taste of peace, of belonging. Waking up beside him had been more than a revelation; it was a transformation.
Since that night, countless others followed, and the loneliness that once defined her had been replaced by an unshakable certainty. In Harry, she found her home.
Now, as the moonlight spilled over their bed, Daphne gazed at him. Harry's chest rose and fell with the rhythm of deep sleep, his features soft, almost boyish in the quiet. Her hand reached out, trembling slightly, to trace the scar that marred his handsome face.
It was a jagged reminder of the battles he had fought, the sacrifices he had made. The wound he'd received from Voldemort had terrified her in ways she couldn't describe, but it was the aftermath – the vulnerability he showed – that cemented her love for him.
He had looked at her then, as though afraid she would see him as broken. As though the darkness of what he'd endured could somehow eclipse the light he brought into her life.
"I will never stop loving you," she had told him that night, her voice steady even as her heart ached for him. And she had meant every single word.
Daphne exhaled softly, the weight of her thoughts pressing down.
She carefully pulled the sheets away from her bare skin, her movements cautious so as not to disturb him. Wrapping her gown loosely around her, she stepped toward the balcony, her feet silent against the cold wooden floor.
The November air was sharp, biting, but she welcomed the chill. It was easier to feel the sting of the wind than the hollow ache in her chest. She leaned against the balcony railing, her gaze sweeping over the grounds she had poured so much of herself into. Harry always joked about the irony of her maiden name, "Greengrass," and her love of gardening, but he adored the gardens she'd cultivated here.
Her hands tightened on the railing as her thoughts spiralled back to the child that would never be. The baby she had carried for such a fleeting moment.
Her composure crumbled. The cold, which had been a distant discomfort, became irrelevant in the face of the emptiness inside her. Tears spilled down her cheeks, hot and relentless, as grief consumed her.
She didn't hear the door open. Normally, she would have sensed Harry immediately; his presence was as much a part of her as her own heartbeat. But tonight, she was so lost in her sorrow that she only noticed him when his warm, steady hands encircled her waist.
"Daphne," he murmured, his voice low and soothing.
Her tears didn't stop, but her trembling eased as she leaned into him. His warmth seeped into her, chasing away the chill. She turned in his arms, pressing her face into crook of his neck, clinging to him like a lifeline.
"We tried so hard, Harry," she whispered, her voice breaking.
He didn't say anything, just held her tighter, his silence an invitation for her to unburden herself.
"And it paid off," she continued, the words tumbling out in a fragile rush. She buried her face deeper against him. "I got pregnant."
Harry's arms tensed briefly before resuming their gentle hold. His hand moved in slow, soothing circles on her back, his unspoken reassurance giving her the courage to continue.
"I wanted to tell you," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "It was going to be a surprise. But then... I bled. I thought it was normal – there was pain when I was pregnant with the other kids, too. But this… this was different. I felt it, Harry. I felt something was wrong."
Her voice broke completely, and the tears she had tried to suppress came rushing back. "I went to the healer today."
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her blue eyes swimming with grief. "The baby's gone, Harry."
The words hung in the air, raw and devastating. Harry's emerald eyes, so often filled with warmth and determination, shimmered with unshed tears. He pulled her close again, his arms a shield against the world's cruelty.
They stood there in silence, holding each other as the wind lashed against their exposed skin. The cold was a distant sensation, meaningless compared to the storm raging in their hearts.
It was Harry who finally broke the silence, his voice low and steady, though tinged with an ache he couldn't quite conceal. "Come. Let's bathe together."
Daphne nodded, unable to find the words. She let him guide her back into their room, her hand clasped tightly in his. The warmth of his touch was the only thing tethering her to the present. As they passed the walls adorned with photographs – moments of joy and laughter frozen in time – her chest tightened. The grinning faces of their children seemed to taunt her, a cruel reminder of the little one who would never join them.
When they reached the ensuite, they began undressing each other. Slowly, almost reverently, Harry slipped her gown from her shoulders, letting the fabric pool at her feet. Daphne's hands moved in turn, unfastening his clothes with trembling fingers.
She was so caught up in her emotions, that she didn't even notice the sudden presence of the intricate magical tattoos that adorned his body. Family magic, Harry had once explained, had etched them there – a testament to the power and legacy of the Potter line, of the Battle Mages of legend.
The Hungarian Horntail spiralled across his neck and shoulder, a Basilisk could be seen coiled around the wound on his arm, while a Phoenix spread its fiery plumage over his other limb. Finally, a Thestral as black as night, covered the expanse of his back.
Daphne had traced these tattoos countless times, marvelling at their beauty and the strength they represented. But now, they felt like a stark reminder of everything Harry had endured especially now. The way his magic seemed untamed, the tattoos shifting subtly with the flow of his emotions, spoke volumes.
He was hurting too.
Stripped of their barriers, both physical and emotional, they stood before each other. Daphne reached for his hand, her fingers intertwining with his, and gently pulled him toward the capacious shower.
The water cascaded over them, warm and soothing, but neither spoke. They washed each other in silence, their movements unhurried, almost ritualistic.
When the shower could no longer hold their grief, they moved to the large bath. The rich scent of lavender filled the air, the water already drawn and waiting for them. Daphne barely registered it, but a fleeting thought of gratitude for the ever-attentive house-elves crossed her mind.
Harry sank into the bath first, resting his back against the smooth edge. He reached for Daphne, pulling her gently down between his legs. She leaned against him, her back pressed to his chest, and let the warmth of the water envelop her. For the first time that night, she felt a flicker of comfort.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking as she stared at their reflections in the shimmering surface of the water. She reached out an arm behind her, trailing upwards until she threaded it through his damp hair. "I was so caught up in my own grief, I didn't stop to think about how you must be feeling too."
"We're a team. Your grief is mine, Daphne. Never apologise of that." Harry's voice was soft but firm, steady like the heartbeat she could feel against her back. "You've been through so much… we both have. But we'll get through this together. There's never a time we don't."
A fresh wave of tears welled up in Daphne's eyes, and she let them fall, her body trembling against his. "I wanted it so badly, Harry. I wanted to give you another child. I wanted us to have one more piece of us in this world."
Harry kissed her temple, his lips lingering there. "We already have pieces of us in this world," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Alex, Ophelia, Charles, Arthur… they're pieces of you, of me. Of us. And this baby… even if they're not here with us, they were still a part of us. And they always will be."
His words broke something in her, but it was a good breaking – a release of the pain Daphne had been holding in so tightly. She turned in his arms and pressed her body against his. Her tears mingled with the water as she looked directly in to his eyes.
"I love you," she whispered, her voice raw and cracked from the weight of her grief. "I love you so much it hurts."
Harry's emerald eyes, brimming with unspoken emotion, locked onto hers. His hand came up to cradle the back of her head, his thumb brushing soothingly over her wet hair. A soft smile curved his lips, though his own tears glistened in the dim light.
"And I love you, wife. Always. There's nothing in this world – or any other – that could change that."
Daphne's tears began anew, but this time they weren't just born of sorrow. There was comfort in his words, in his unwavering presence. She leaned into him, their foreheads pressing together, their breaths mingling in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
– X –
Draco Malfoy was not a man Harry would ever envision himself liking.
He was an arrogant, pompous, selfish piece of shit and yet despite that, over the years, Harry had learned to tolerate him, for Daphne. Her sister was married to the git after all.
"Tie or no tie?"
Daphne paused mid-stroke of her lipstick and glanced at Harry through the reflection of her vanity mirror. Her piercing blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "No tie," she decided with a small, approving nod.
Harry smirked. "No tie it is. What's this, Daphne? I didn't know you'd be joining in on the fun."
Daphne blotted her lips before standing up. Walking over to her husband, she gently smoothed out the collar of his shirt and tugged it open just enough to reveal his collarbone and the subtle glint of a silver chain beneath. "You've been annoying him for years now, love. What's one more time? Besides, I know you won't stop."
Harry chuckled. "It is rather amusing to see that vein on his forehead pop every time I visit wearing a Muggle suit."
Daphne hummed in agreement, leaning in to loop her arms around his neck. Her perfume, a soft and floral scent this time, wrapped around him like a comforting embrace. "You do cut a rather handsome image in less bulky clothes, Potter," she teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
Harry grinned down at her. Slowly, he dragged his hands to her waist and pulled her closer, her front mashing against his causing Daphne's eyes to darken.
"You don't leave much to the imagination either, Mrs Potter." He stared directly at her considerable bust that no dress could hope to hide. Even after four children, Daphne, if possible looked sexier than ever before.
Daphne kissed the side of Harry's open neck, revelling in his stare. Her red lips left behind their indent on his skin whilst she looked up to him with a smirk that made his knees feel weak. "You know me, I like to look good for my husband."
The blonde suddenly gasped when she felt him pull her even closer, his hand grabbing possessively onto her rear as his eyes flashed with lust
Harry kissed her hard causing Daphne to moan into his mouth. "My lipstick'll smear, idiot – " Daphne gasped, her eyes rolling back as she felt his lips on the pulse point on her neck. " – You'll leave a mark – "
Harry grinned wickedly into her neck. "That was the goal~"
Daphne pushed him back gently with a reluctant sight, her chest heaving with laboured breaths.
"There's not a place on my body that you haven't left your mark on, you insatiable man. Bruising my delicate body with your brutish hands." Daphne mock gasped, using her finger to brush his eyebrow and then his hair tenderly. "Honestly, even the twins don't maul my breasts as much as you do."
"Is that right?" Harry said, his smile widening. "What about that time when you had smothered me in love bites during one of our more passionate nights in Sixth Year without me knowing and McGonagall found out?"
Daphne giggled as the memory resurfaced. She leaned up to him and brushed her lips against his, their faces inches apart. "It was payback. You were being especially bitey that week."
"And can you blame me, baby? The sound of you continuing to beg me for more, I can't just say no – "
" – Okay!" Daphne interrupted loudly; her cheeks turned a bright red as she glared at him.
Harry laughed and began peppering kisses on her lips until Daphne couldn't help herself but return after a moment of pouting.
"Mother's here," Harry said suddenly, groaning as he pulled away with an exaggerated reluctance.
Daphne tugged on his bottom lip before leaning back. "Come on, then. Best not keep her waiting." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh... before I forget, here."
Harry raised an eyebrow in exasperation when he saw what she'd summoned with her wand. "Really?"
"It's tradition," she replied, nose in the air with mock arrogance.
He rolled his eyes but sighed, begrudgingly placing the Santa hat with reindeer antlers on his head and the red pom-pom nose on his face. "Happy?"
Daphne giggled, her eyes lighting up with amusement. "Awww, my cute little Rudolph," she cooed, pressing a soft kiss to his red nose.
"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered, pinching Daphne's bum, causing her to yelp. "I still regret every day that I showed you that movie."
"Don't be such a spoilsport, baby," Daphne teased with sparkly eyes.
The two fixed themselves up again, looking their standard, picturesque selves that had the Magical World on a chokehold whenever their images would get published in the papers.
"How do I look?" Daphne asked after she set her lipstick down for the second time.
"Absolutely ravishing."
"You say that in anything I wear." The blonde replied with a smile as she tucked herself into Harry's side. They walked out of their bedroom and into the hall. The sounds of laughter carried over to their ears from downstairs which made the smile of their face softer.
"Would you rather I lie to you?" Harry asked with an amused look.
"Don't be silly," Daphne huffed, rolling her eyes. "And behave, will you?" she added, feeling his hand rest on her hip, dangerously low.
Harry grinned at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Just appreciating my beautiful wife's stellar beauty... and how much I absolutely adore her arse."
"Prat," Daphne said fondly, yet making no move to pull away.
– X –
"I'm a big boy!"
Harry sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. He raised an eyebrow at Teddy, who stood before him with his arms stretched wide, his expression determined.
"Fine," He said relented, "but only if you sit down."
Teddy's eyes lit up with excitement, and he scurried off toward the couch, his small feet pattering against the polished floor. Harry followed at a leisurely pace, his grin growing as he watched his godson's energy spill over.
Plonking down with his arms stretched out, Harry sat beside him and carefully handed Arthur to Teddy, watching with amusement as his godson's features changed to resemble Arthur's, even down to his electric blue eyes.
"He's so tiny!" Teddy whispered; his voice filled with awe. He giggled when Arthur swiped at his nose, the baby's little fingers curling and uncurling.
"You were just like this once, you know," Harry said softly, his tone touched with nostalgia.
"Really?" Teddy asked, wide-eyed, staring at Arthur as though trying to picture himself as small and fragile.
Harry hummed in response, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Though you were a little naughtier. More like Charles over there." He nodded toward his other son, who was currently trying to fit as much of Daphne's hair into his mouth as humanly possible, much to her exasperation. "You used to drive your grandmother bonkers."
Teddy giggled again, the sound pure and infectious. Arthur mirrored him with a coo, his tiny face scrunching into a babyish grin. Harry's chest tightened at the sight, his heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of love for the two boys.
He glanced around the room, taking in the transformed Malfoy Manor. What was once cold and foreboding had gradually become warmer, almost welcoming, thanks to Astoria's relentless determination to make it a home.
They truly had gone to the nines for Christmas this year.
"Here. Try not to drench your nose."
Looking up, he saw Draco and a pair of tumblers floating behind him.
Harry shot a scowl at the man causing him to smirk. Accepting the glass, the Potter lord eyed the amber liquid curiously. "What is it?"
"Scotch." Draco said, sitting on the couch opposite them.
Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Muggle?"
"Yes." Malfoy replied with more than a little difficulty that caused the black-haired man to snort.
"I thought I'd seen everything but you continue to surprise me, cousin."
Draco scoffed, taking another sip from his glass. "It's the only useful thing those – " He paused, clearing his throat, "Muggles, have created."
Harry rolled his eyes, swirling around the alcohol. "How's Scorpius?"
The question brought an immediate change in Draco. His sharp features softened, pride gleaming in his eyes as he glanced toward his son, who was chatting animatedly with Alexander by the hearth. "He's well," Draco said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. "Everything a father could want in a son."
Harry watched him, a knowing grin tugging at his lips. "Would you look at that."
Draco caught his gaze and sniffed haughtily, though his cheeks betrayed a faint pink flush. "Don't read into it, Potter."
"Oh, I wouldn't dare," Harry said, his grin widening.
"Uncle Harry, my arms hurt, and I want to play with Alex and Scorpius." Teddy piped up, shifting uncomfortably as Arthur squirmed in his lap.
Harry chuckled, rescuing the baby from Teddy's grasp.
"All right, off you go then son," he said, nodding toward the hearth. Teddy didn't need to be told twice, hopping off the couch and scampering toward the boys.
"And Narcissa?" Harry asked as he carefully placed Arthur down on a blanket beside him, the baby's tiny fists waving in the air.
"Better," Draco said quietly, looking over to his mother. "When I was growing up… she never looked this happy. Not even before the Dark Lord."
"Her marriage was a shambles, her son was a ponce with a stick up his arse and a lunatic with a god complex invaded her home. Need I go on?" Harry deadpanned.
Draco's head snapped toward him, a sharp glare in his grey eyes. "You didn't have to put it like that," he said tersely.
Harry raised an unimpressed eyebrow, holding Draco's gaze until the blonde sighed and looked away. "You mean to tell me it's not true?"
Draco said nothing, his pride keeping him silent. But Harry's words struck a chord. He knew the truth of it – he had failed his mother in ways he couldn't bring himself to admit aloud.
"She's happy now," He said finally before his voice became subdued. "And I've already paid the price for my foolishness."
Harry sighed when he looked at what remained of Draco's arm before shifting his attention to Narcissa, who was laughing along with Andromeda and Astoria at something they'd spotted on Daphne's neck. He could already guess what it was – the red flush on Daphne's face made it clear they'd uncovered their little rendezvous earlier.
"Yes," Harry murmured with a smile, his heart warmed by the sight of the family all together. "I suppose it was all worth it in the end."
"Astoria told me. About Daphne… and the baby."
Harry's head snapped back to the man opposite him.
It shouldn't have been a surprise. Despite Harry's grievances along the years, he couldn't deny Draco Malfoy was a changed man and yet, Harry was barely able to keep his expression straight when he saw the level of pain that was etched across the blonde man's pale face. It's as if there was something deeper in his voice.
"My deepest condolences, Harry," Draco said quietly.
The words, so simple yet sincere, tightened something in Harry's chest. The pain of their loss, though pushed aside as best he could manage, resurfaced like an old wound reopening. He forced himself to steady his voice, though it came out rougher than he intended.
"Thank you, Draco." Harry exhaled slowly, gripping the arm of the couch tightly as he sought control. "The past month has been… difficult. For all of us."
Draco nodded. There was no judgment in his eyes, no mockery or distaste. Just quiet understanding.
"It's a strange thing," Draco said after a beat, his voice measured but tinged with reflection. "To lose something you didn't even realize could mean so much. It changes you."
Harry didn't reply, opting to take a large sip from his glass instead.
"There's this emptiness you can't fill, no matter how much you try." Draco studied him, "But you have Daphne. And the family you've built together. Its more than what most could ask for."
Harry's throat tightened, the reminder of what he still had both comforting and bittersweet. His gaze drifted back to Daphne, now laughing with Astoria as Andromeda playfully tried to shush them.
"She's been far stronger than I ever could've ever imagined." Harry admitted with a soft smile.
"I'd say you both have." Draco said firmly. "If there's anyone who could get through what you're going through, it's the both of you."
The words settled over Harry; a quiet reassurance he hadn't known he needed. He gave Draco a small, grateful nod. "Thanks cousin."
Their conversation tapered off naturally, the weight of it giving way to a moment of mutual understanding. Draco glanced back at Narcissa and Andromeda, who were now coaxing Astoria and Daphne toward the dining room.
"We should go," Draco said, stepping back. "I fear there will be no food left otherwise."
Harry snorted. With that thought, he followed after beckoning the children over, the sound of soft voices and delectable smells drawing him into the warmth of family once more.
– X –
The remnants of a lavish Christmas dinner lingered in the air, filling the room with the scent of roasted meats, rich sauces, and spiced puddings. The children, as usual, were full of boundless energy, a stark contrast to the more subdued contentment of the adults.
Teddy, Alexander, and Scorpius were huddled together, whispering conspiratorially over a set of enchanted figurines that moved on their own. Meanwhile, Charles, ever the little devil, was trying to crawl under the Christmas tree, his chubby hands reaching for a particularly shiny ornament.
"You'll ought to stop him before he pulls the whole thing down," Daphne murmured, stepping up beside Harry by the window.
Harry smiled at her, his eyes softening. He glanced over at Charles, now precariously tugging on the tree. "Let him try. It builds character."
Daphne rolled her eyes affectionately, though her expression was fond as she watched their son. With a graceful flick of her wand, the ornament floated just out of Charles' reach, eliciting a frustrated grunt from the little boy.
"Oh, my dear wife, looks like you'll be earning our little boy's wrath later." Harry said dramatically whilst Daphne sighed wearily. "Where's the other nugget?"
"Surprisingly, with Aunt Cissy. Arthur likes being held by everyone except Astoria. Drives her mad." Said Daphne with a giggle.
Harry snorted. "He can probably sense the inner hellion in your sister."
" – I heard that!" Astoria shouted from across the room. A glare marked her face though it was pretty mute when compared to her rosy cheeks.
Daphne's lips twitched, but she couldn't deny it. Though she had changed later on, Astoria was an unbearable little brat growing up.
"Out like a light, is she?" Daphne asked, tugging out Ophelia's thumb from her mouth as she slept cozily in Harry's arms.
"Mmhmm. Tried keeping up with the boys all night and like always, they wore her out. You know how she is, always following after Alex or Teddy." Harry replied fondly, kissing the sleeping Ophelia on the cheek as she snuggled closer.
Daphne's eyes softened as she regarded her daughter. "'Lia's just like Fiona when she was little. Always trailing after me despite how poorly she was."
"And where is that other sister of yours?"
"She's travelling again."
"Still?" Harry said with a raised eyebrow. "I thought she returned back to America for her Mastery."
Daphne shook her head.
"Sent me an owl the other day letting me know that she decided to visit China only for them to deny her entry."
"Oh?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. "Want me to sort it out?"
Daphne glared at him but there was no heat in her stare. "See! This is why she acts all spoiled. She knows you'll bail her out if anything happens."
The blonde rested her head on her husband's shoulder, sighing wearily. "She's already used the "do you know who my brother-in-law is?" card to wheedle her way into the country. Since then, I've spoken to Su and apparently, the Chinese government have been treating her like royalty ever since. She did send her regards though."
"That little – ." Harry chuckled, shaking his head. He always admired the younger girl's deviously sharp wit. Definitely wasn't anything to do with him spoiling her a little too much when they were younger.
Distantly, they could hear the chime ringing indicating another hour had passed which was when Andromeda's voice reached the couple's ears.
"Harry, Daphne. About time we ought to leave, no? It's got quite late." She said, hiding a small yawn.
"Darling?" Daphne asked her husband.
Harry nodded, offering the others a small smile. "Time we head off then. Staying over, mother?"
Andromeda looked over to Teddy who was still energetically playing with Alexander and Scorpius though she knew he would tire very soon.
"I suppose it's best we do. Knowing Edward, it'll be a hassle otherwise getting him to come over tomorrow for Boxing Day." She said lightly. "Hope you don't mind, sweetheart?"
"You never need to ask, Andi." Daphne said with a gentle smile which was reciprocated by the older woman.
"Come on then boys, home time." Harry called out, his voice carrying a note of finality.
Teddy and Alex pouted in unison, but their protests were fleeting. With quick hugs and cheerful goodbyes, they bounded over to join Harry.
"Scorpius, darling, it's time to say goodbye. We won't be seeing everyone until next year," Astoria coaxed, her tone gentle but firm.
The little blonde boy obediently made his rounds, hugging the adults before waving shyly at Alex and Teddy. The boys grinned back at him.
"Have fun at Swissy-Land, Scorpius!" Alex called out with enthusiasm.
Scorpius's face lit up, his small smile brimming with excitement. "Thanks, Alex!"
Harry chuckled softly at the exchange, watching the children's bright energy warm the room before turning to Draco's voice behind him.
"Cousin."
Harry shook Draco's hand. "Draco. Thank you for having us. Do try and enjoy the Swiss Alps." He said with a smirk.
Draco rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face as he took the scene around him: the laughter, the warmth, the bonds had grown stronger despite the hardships of the past. "Thank you for coming."
"Merry Christmas, everyone," Harry said softly, his voice filled with quiet gratitude.
"Merry Christmas," came the chorus in return, wrapping around him like the coziest of blankets.
As the families parted, the glow of the holiday lingered in the air, promising peace and hope in the days to come.
– X –
The scent of pine filled the air as Daphne stepped into the living room of Potter Manor. She had spent most of Boxing Day in the library, organizing books and finding solace in the quiet. Drawn by the laughter echoing through the halls, she couldn't resist seeing what the commotion was about.
Snow-dusted boots lay by the door, and a towering Christmas tree sparkled with enchanted lights and ornaments. Stockings hung from the mantle – four for the children, three for Harry, Daphne and Andromeda – the name stitched in elegant silver script. Garlands of holly wove through the bannisters, completing the festive scene.
Harry had conjured a mound of snowballs that the children gleefully hurled at one another. Alexander and Teddy led the charge, laughing wildly as Ophelia squealed and darted behind a sofa for cover, her curls bouncing with each step.
Sitting in a rocking chair, Andromeda softly hummed a lullaby, Arthur asleep in her arms, his tiny chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm. Though the older woman often claimed to dislike the chair, her hand occasionally pushed it into a gentle sway, betraying her fondness.
"Careful, kids!" Harry's voice cut through the din, a mix of amusement and exasperation. He sat on the floor, Charles perched on his lap, gnawing on a candy cane with single-minded determination.
Daphne paused, taking in the scene. The firelight softened Harry's features, his unruly hair as untamed as ever. Her heart ached and swelled all at once. This was her family – her joy.
"Honestly, there's always something or the other going on here." She said exasperatedly but was unable to hide her smile.
"Snowball fight, Mummy!" Alex shouted, his green eyes – so much like Harry's – sparkling. "Teddy's winning, but only because he's making his hands bigger!"
"Not true!" Teddy countered, his hair shifting to a triumphant shade of gold as he lobbed another snowball the size of his head at Alex.
Daphne laughed, scooping up Ophelia as the little girl dashed toward her. "And what about you, my little snowflake?" Daphne asked, brushing a kiss to her daughter's cheek.
"I'm winning!" Ophelia declared with a giggle, burying her face against Daphne's neck before flying back into the chaos.
Harry's crooked smile met Daphne's gaze. "Back from the library, love?"
"I needed the quiet," she replied. "But it seems I've missed the fun."
"No time like the present," Harry said, patting the space beside him.
Daphne settled in gracefully, taking Charles from Harry's lap. She deftly wiped his sticky cheeks with a handkerchief, her movements practiced and gentle.
"Enlarged the room again, did you?" she asked, a note of amusement in her voice.
Harry shrugged, utterly unrepentant. "It's Christmas, isn't it? Can't very well have Christmas without a snowball fight, now can we?"
She arched an eyebrow at him as Ophelia squealed in delight nearby, hurling snowballs Harry had secretly piled at her feet toward the older kids. The boys didn't notice until it was too late, and their indignant shouts only made Ophelia's laughter louder.
Daphne sighed, extricating her hair from Charles's sticky fingers. "Last I checked, Potter, we have several inches of snow outside."
"It's too cold," Harry said simply, grinning unabashedly.
"Of course it is," she replied, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.
"Teddy, Alex, try and watch the tree, sweethearts," Andromeda said gently. "I'd rather not have to explain to Winky why half the ornaments are broken."
"Yes, Gran," the boys chorused, their grins far from repentant.
As the evening wore on, the chaos slowly ebbed into a more subdued energy.
Andromeda rose carefully, Arthur cradled against her shoulder, his tiny thumb tucked securely in his mouth. "All right, little ones," she called, her voice warm but firm. "Time for bed. Upstairs with you all."
A chorus of groans met her announcement, but the children reluctantly complied.
After exchanging a flurry of hugs and kisses with Daphne and Harry, they darted out of the room, their whispers and giggles echoing down the hall.
"I'll be checking all your rooms later, so no funny business!" Daphne called after them, her voice teasing but effective. A fresh wave of giggles answered her.
Humming softly, Andromeda followed the retreating footsteps, Arthur still nestled snugly in her arms. Winky approached Daphne, gently taking Charles from her arms.
"I'll put the twins to bed," Andromeda said, her smile tender. "Goodnight, dearies."
"Thank you, Andi. Goodnight!" Daphne replied warmly.
"Goodnight," Harry added.
As the house quieted, tranquillity settled over Potter Manor. By the tree, Daphne adjusted a phoenix-shaped ornament, her delicate touch ensuring its perfect placement. Harry joined her, slipping his arms around her waist and resting his chin lightly on her shoulder.
"It was nice spending Christmas with the Malfoys before they left for Switzerland," Daphne murmured with a quiet sigh, her eyes soft with the memory.
Harry hummed in agreement. "Yeah. The kids loved it."
A smile tugged at Daphne's lips as she recalled the children's faces lighting up when they learned they could open their presents a day early. Though Daphne and Harry had reservations, it truly was a well spent Christmas.
Together, they stood in peaceful silence, gazing out at the snow drifting lazily beyond the frosted windows, the quiet punctuated only by the comforting music that played in the background.
"Do you think," Daphne whispered, her voice suddenly fragile, "there's still a chance?"
Harry's embrace tightened instinctively, understanding the weight of her words. "There's always a chance," he murmured. "Maybe not the way we imagined, but..." His gaze lifted to the star atop the tree, its light a beacon of quiet hope.
Daphne swallowed hard, turning in his arms. "And if... if this is it for us?"
Harry pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his voice steady with love. "We've been blessed with four beautiful children, Daphne. I've never been happier or more fulfilled."
"Nor have I," she admitted softly, though a wistful edge lingered in her tone. "And yet, I still want one more." Her fingers curled into his shirt as she rested her forehead against his chest.
Harry's hand ran soothingly along her back. "We have to think about your health, love," he reminded her, his concern evident.
"I can withstand one more," she said stubbornly, her resolve shining through.
Harry chuckled, his admiration for her stubbornness as strong as ever. "Then perhaps someday, one day, our miracle will come."
"Do you really believe that?" she asked, tilting her head to meet his gaze.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear as he kissed her tenderly. "I believe in us."
Her grief softened, giving way to a fragile yet undeniable hope. Their foreheads touched, and in the quiet warmth of their home, surrounded by love, Daphne allowed herself to believe – just a little – that their dream wasn't out of reach.
"What are we doing?" Harry asked, blinking in surprise as Daphne began to lead him toward the door.
A sly smile curved her lips as she glanced back at him. "Merlin's not going to just drop off a child, darling."
Harry's eyes widened for a moment before a familiar spark lit them. In a swift motion, he scooped her into his arms, eliciting a startled squeak that quickly melted into laughter.
Taking the stairs two at a time, Harry's grin mirrored hers as she shook her head, a smile of her own lighting her face.
Behind them, the fire crackled softly, its warm glow painting the room in flickering light. Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in a shimmering hush. Within Potter Manor, the spirit of Christmas lingered, a quiet promise of new beginnings and dreams yet to come.
– X –