86

As Harry left the Ministry, several hours after he arrived, he was exhausted, but in a good mood. The rest of his day had been filled with a long string of boring yet important events, which included strategy meetings with important members of the ministry, pointless meetings with useless Wizengamot members, and even a few press interviews that Harry iterated just how much he trusted the new minister to handle the growing tide of darkness.

The latter two annoyed him quite a bit, but he decided that, after taking the anal virginity of the Minister of Magic herself, he owed her a gift in return.

Even though Amelia enjoyed that loss even more than he did, constantly blushing in their strategy meeting, tempting Harry to push her down for a repeat. Pity it wasn't time yet.

After he left the ministry, he apparated, but his destination wasn't Grimmauld Place. No, instead he targeted Muggle London, and when he arrived at an alley, he put on his invisibility cloak before walking to his destination.

Three Broomstick.

As much as he trusted the person he was meeting — well, he trusted his hold on her, to be more accurate — he didn't want to take the risk.

After all, just like his experience with Amelia during their morning fun showed, there were many ways of extracting secrets from a trusted confidante.

He needed to make sure Daphne was not about to sell him out. Yet, as he walked closer, a frown appeared on his face. He could feel a unique magical resonance, one that he had never felt before…

***

Daphne Greengrass was a girl with many problems. Some of those problems were simple, like how to keep ruling the House of Slytherin. Others were considerably harder, like how to keep away from Death Eaters even as her idiot father continued to give more and more ground to them since Dumbledore's death, assuming that their victory was given…

The recent setbacks showed that it was not the case. Voldemort wasn't the only Dark Lord in the world. It seemed that, with Dumbledore's death, the other Dark Lord that was locked down by him was showing his face.

But, neither was her biggest problem. No, her problem was a different kind … more immediate. She caressed her stomach gently, trying to feel a flicker of presence under her fingers despite knowing it was still too early to be showing.

Daphne bit her lips, trying to decide whether to reveal that big secret. How would he react, she had no idea. Ideally, she wanted to hide it even more, but once he sent her a letter asking for a meeting, rejecting it was a bad idea. It would look like she had decided to side with the Death Eaters.

That was the last thing she wanted.

She had no intention of serving a madman who casually killed his followers. If she had any doubts in that direction, Yaxley's fate was enough to show that. His sudden death after his failure was a hot topic among the Death Eaters, like he could expect minions of another Dark Lord already intervening with their task.

No, Daphne had no intention of committing to Voldemort before, and she certainly had no intention after the reveal. She didn't even want to imagine how many ways Voldemort would use her little secret … none of them were good for her.

Unfortunately, she had no idea how Harry would react.

She would learn it … if she could actually gather her courage and reveal the truth about herself. Lost in her thoughts, she only realized she wasn't alone when he pulled down his cloak. "P-Potter, you're here," Daphne said. Hardly the most incredible opening.

To her defense, she was surprised by his invisible entrance.

"Yes, Daphne, I'm here," he said as he sat on the bed. She looked surprised, especially when he patted his lap … yet she walked and sat on his lap, ready to let him do whatever he wanted. Maybe it would put him in a better mood before she revealed her secret.

Yet, the moment she sat down, he grabbed her hair, and pulled her hair back. Not painfully, but his sharp expression was enough to scare her. "Tell me, Daphne," he said.

"T-tell you what?" Daphne gasped, shocked. For a moment, she thought that he was asking about her secret, but it couldn't be. Even she only discovered what was wrong after using several charms.

"Don't play with me, Daphne," he said as his hand landed on her stomach. "Not about this."

Daphne expected to panic even more, yet it was the shocking gentleness of his touch that calmed her. "Y-you know," she stated.

"Of course, I know. I could feel her presence the moment I stepped into the inn."

"H-her," Daphne whispered, shocked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," he declared. "We're going to have a daughter."

The moment he called her their baby, something shattered in Daphne. Suddenly, she hugged his neck and started crying helplessly. "W-what are we going to do?" she gasped.

"Don't worry, I'll keep both of you safe," he declared, and at that moment, Daphne was filled with awe. Even as she cried desperately, she could feel his sudden raging power. She knew that he was strong, that he had shown to her many times during their encounters.

However, for the first time, that power wasn't hitting her like a battering ram, forcing her to obey — not that she had much problem with that. No, this time, his power wrapped around her like a blanket, making her feel safe and protected.

She just cried while he hugged her.

A while later, she whispered. "What are we going to do?" she found herself asking.

"First, I'm going to take you with me. With you carrying my child, you can't return back to that den of snakes."

Daphne just nodded obediently, but still felt worried. "What about my sister and mother. The Death Eaters won't be happy about my disappearance."

"Don't worry about it, I'll make sure to arrange a fitting public death for you. Another accident in a dangerous world, so Death Eaters would have no reason to target you. You can send them a letter if you think they can keep a secret."

"What if they can't?" Daphne asked.

"Fake grieving is better than real grieving," he answered.

"Don't worry, they can keep secrets. They are capable enough in mental arts to keep away from suspicions and trick most of the Death Eaters. And, there would be no reason for the really competent ones to target them about it."

He nodded. "Good, go and write the letters while I go and arrange a nasty accident for you," he said and disappeared. However, not before kissing her forehead gently. Which, somehow, felt much warmer.

Daphne was glad that he was away, because writing the letters turned out to be much more difficult than she expected, especially since she didn't know if she could see them again.

With the war intensifying, no one was safe.

She bit her lips once she finished her letters and folded them, happy that Harry trusted her enough to leave her alone while writing those letters. A symbolic gesture, maybe, but a symbol she appreciated.

When Harry returned, she silently passed the letters to him. He summoned a surprisingly mean house-elf, who took the letters after insulting Harry several times. "Are you sure he's reliable," she asked.

"Don't worry. He's mean, but he's reliable," Harry said as he hugged her once more, pulling her to the bed. She just hugged him, enjoying the comfort. He hugged her as well … and they just lay there, silent.

"I can't believe I'll be a mother," she said. "I'm so young."

"You're still over eighteen, which makes you an adult," Harry said. "With the war going on, that's more or less what we can expect."

Daphne sighed at his attitude, but his arms were too warm to get away. She stayed captured in them. "I just want to stay like this," she said.

"Sure, just a slight change," he added, and suddenly, she felt the distinctive, annoying pull of Apparation … and she found herself lying on another bed. In a much bigger room, covered with very recognizable sigils.

House Black.

"W-where are we," Daphne found herself asking, despite knowing the answer.

"Bedroom of the Black Patriarch. The rest of the house is filled with Order members, so it's better for you to stay in a room with its own private wards," he explained.

Daphne sighed, not saying anything else as she hugged. She was too familiar with how ancient families worked to miss the significance. Somehow, Harry was the magically recognized head of House Black, which came not only with a lot of reputation and political power among pureblood circles, but also with a very significant fortune.

A fortune she listened to Malfoy bragging about for years, making Harry's current position even more shocking. Daphne was sure that there was a story behind that, one that he would tell her if she asked…

But, in his arms, she felt the stress she had been running her life since the discovery dissipated… and she fell asleep.