Harry sat up in bed and rubbed his face, it felt like he'd just awoken from a nightmare. It was hazy, but it involved Sirius and Daphne Greengrass. He didn't know what kind of nightmare would involve his godfather and his wife's best friend, but he didn't plan on dwelling on it.
Glancing over to the other side of the bed, Harry realised Hermione was already up. Harry disappeared into the ensuite bathroom and readied himself for the day.
A short time later he walked downstairs into the kitchen to find Hermione preparing breakfast. She glanced over and smiled at her beloved husband as he kissed their four year old daughter Zoey on top of the head.
"I love you, daddy," Zoey said with a bright smile on her face.
"I love you too, sweetheart," Harry replied, returning her smile as he moved over to kiss Hermione. "And I love you too."
"Good morning, my love," Hermione replied with a broad smile, wrapping her arms around and returning his kiss.
"Busy day ahead?" Harry asked as he poured himself a delicious cup of coffee. Though Hermione was so bad at cooking she could set water on fire, she excelled in making amazing fresh brewed coffee before he set off to work.
"We have some new artifacts that the Goblins want us to examine… nothing dangerous," Hermione assured Harry when she saw his head shoot up in alarm.
"I have faith in you, it's just that some Goblin's still think we're in an era of an uneasy detente. They can't accept the peace that exists between us now. Then again we have plenty of those types of people on our side too."
"Yes we do, but that's not something we have to worry about. We should have faith that your parents, Sirius, and Minister Bones are doing their part to ensure peace between our nations," Hermione said firmly.
"You're right, of course," Harry agreed, raising his hands placatingly.
"I love it when you say that," Hermione replied, sharing a smile with her daughter. "By the way, your Mum said she wants to see us this weekend. That's if you're not busy with work?"
Harry paused in thought for a moment and shook his head. "Nope, the European league doesn't start for another two weeks. Apart from some interviews with the Harpies today, I'm free for a little while."
Hermione smiled and nodded. "Good. Come along Zoey, let's leave your dad to write his columns about silly people flying around on brooms."
"Bye dad!" Zoey said excitedly as they walked out the door.
Once the two were gone, Harry walked upstairs and into his office. The house had been a gift from Sirius when he married Hermione, his long term steady girlfriend since Hogwarts. They'd had ups and downs, especially when Harry had taken an offer to play for the Montrose Magpies. She'd stepped away from their relationship for a few months, but they'd never stopped loving each other.
Eventually they'd sat down and talked about it. She'd never wanted to get in the way of his dream of playing Quidditch professionally, but she knew how demanding and dangerous it was. Harry for his part hadn't wanted to hurt Hermione by making her feel like her feelings didn't matter compared with his career.
Eventually they'd compromise, Harry would play Quidditch for a few years and retire by thirty. It wasn't like he needed the money, the Potter vaults were full of more money than anyone in the family could spend in a lifetime.
And after winning the British and Irish League twice, taking the Magpies to the European Championship, being a member of a winning English World Cup team, and winning the British and Irish and European leagues in a single season as captain, Harry had retired. Resentment had stirred at the time, with some blaming Hermione for taking their Quidditch hero away from them. Harry wouldn't be moved, he loved Quidditch, but he loved his family more.
Harry spent his days as a Quidditch columnist for the Prophet and a few international papers, and a pundit on the wizarding wireless. He still had great affection for the Magpies, and was treated like a god whenever he showed up at the club. Even though a small minority of fans blamed Hermione for his retirement, the club itself treated her like a queen. They knew that once they'd settled the issues between them, she supported her, then boyfriend, now husband one hundred percent.
Harry looked over the reports from around the grounds and sighed. The Cannons were drowning in debt once again, and the Department of Magical Games and Sports were considering relegating the team, at least according to this report. He wasn't a reporter, but he was a famous ex-Quidditch player.
People liked talking to him, they wanted to be his friend, or simply impress him. And they often let things slip without meaning too. He'd become very good at ferreting out information over the years. And the funniest part is people hadn't learned to shut up around him, even years after he retired.
Collecting his jacket, Harry apparated from his house to the Chudley Cannons clubhouse. Unsurprisingly it hadn't changed since Harry played for the Magpies. Actually it had changed, it had become even more dilapidated in the interim. As a pundit he never had to venture out to the clubs, he would sit in the Wizarding Wireless studios and watch via the big screen version of the communications mirror Sirius had put out to market. He hadn't stepped foot in the Cannons clubhouse since he was a player.
The first person Harry saw after he landed, was the person he least wanted to see. While Harry's post Hogwarts career had gone from strength to strength, Ron Weasley had wallowed in mediocrity. He'd tried out for the Cannons, but his keeping skills hadn't measured up to their admittedly mediocre standards. He wasn't even good enough to be their reserve keeper. In a bid to be part of his favourite Quidditch team, he'd taken up the position of assistant groundskeeper. A position he maintained until today.
Harry reluctantly walked over to his former teammate and one time friend, though calling them friends was generous. Despite what Ron liked to claim, they were never close. Ron had tried to buddy up with Harry on the train to Hogwarts in their first year, but seeing him surrounded by various kids Harry had grown up with he slunk away.
The real death knell to the idea that they'd ever be friends, came when he'd insulted Hermione and made her cry after Charms class with Slytherin. After giving him a right royal telling off, Harry had pursued Hermione, using the marauders map, to the second floor girls bathroom.
He'd only been there a few minutes, waiting for Hermione to emerge, when Daphne Greengrass showed up. They'd only spoken maybe a handful of times in their lives. While their mom's had been close at Hogwarts, Joseph Greengrass had made Isabella cut off almost all contact with Lily when they married. So, he and Daphne hadn't had the opportunity to grow up together like most of his classmates.
He hadn't realised Daphne had followed him from Charms, only falling behind when he took a few shortcuts to reach Hermione sooner. After ascertaining Hermione was in the bathroom, Daphne told him to wait. A while later they emerged, Hermione wasn't crying anymore, but the hurt still linger in her eyes. But having Daphne and Harry there, helped. They'd been acquaintances before that day, but they'd been inseparable friends ever since.
"Hello, Weasley, what's new?" Harry asked genially.
Ron looked up from pulling weeds and frowned. "What do you want, Potter?"
Harry shrugged. "Not much, how's life at the club?"
"Shit, but I suppose you knew that already. Come to gloat over everyone having to take another pay cut? Must have been nice to play for the Magpies, they always have the nicest equipment and the clubhouse is a castle. Our clubhouse is a shed and the team is always shit."
"Yeah, shame about that," Harry said quietly. He did feel bad about the team's financial woes, but apart from buying the team, which he had zero interest in doing, there was nothing he could do. Ron was right about one thing, the Magpie's clubhouse was a literal castle. It belonged to a former owner of the team and he gifted it to them in his will. Much to the chagrin of his remaining relatives.
"It looks like the person I wanted to talk to isn't here. Thanks for a chat, Weasley," Harry said before walking away and apparating to the Ministry.
It took ages for Harry to reach the Department of Magical Games and Sports. There was a swarm of fans as soon as he appeared in the atrium. Harry appreciated his fans, but he was happy to be mostly out of the limelight. Even though the years hadn't curbed their enthusiasm.
Harry was glad to have been able to lean on the advice of Ethan Parkin early in his career. The older man was a font of knowledge about professional Quidditch and its fans.
Once free of his fans, Harry descended into the depth of the Ministry. He'd only been there a few times over the years, first with his parents as a child. Then for the occasional Ministry function either as a member of the Magpie's, or as Hermione's plus one.
Eventually he found his way to the Department and quickly made a beeline for the head of the department's office. He paused at the door, glancing at the executive assistant sitting beside the door. She smiled and nodded. "Go on, he'll be happy to see you."
"Thank you," Harry replied before knocking and entering. Waiting for him inside was Andre Egwu, former Seeker for the Pride of Portree and current head of department. They'd only played a couple of seasons against each other, as Andre was near the end of his career when Harry started. But they became fast friends, a friendship that had lasted to the present day.
"Harry! I haven't seen you in weeks!" Andre exclaimed as he rounded the desk to greet his friend with a hug.
"Sorry, the end of the season had me run ragged," Harry explained as the two sat down.
"Believe me, I know," Andre assured him. "How are your two best girls?"
Harry's face lit up with a bright smile. "They're great, as beautiful and feisty as ever."
"Good, so! What can I do for England's quidditch hero?"
"What's going on with the Cannons? A little birdy told me they've cut salaries again," Harry said.
Andre frowned, tapping on his desk. "Who am I talking to, my friend Harry, or the former Magpies Seeker who works for the Prophet?"
Harry smiled. "A bit of both."
"Off the record?" Andre asked, to which Harry nodded. "The Cannons have run out of money. They'll be bankrupt by the end of the week, there is interest, but we can't keep a bankrupt Quidditch team in the top flight of professional Quidditch."
Harry let out a long breath and nodded. "I could say I'm surprised, but that would be a lie. We both know how badly managed the team has been since long before you and I started playing. Thanks Andre, I won't repeat this back to the Prophet," Harry said, standing up.
"Thank you, Harry."
Apparating from the Ministry to the Prophet, Harry walked up stairs to the sports desk. He sat down beside Murphy McNully, Chief Quidditch writer for the Prophet, and smiled. "Morning, McNully."
Murphy greeted Harry with a broad smile. "My favourite Quidditch player, I didn't expect to see you today."
"I was looking at reports this morning and saw the notes about the Cannons."
McNully rolled away from the desk to grab a notepad and returned seconds later. "Go on."
Harry laid out his conversation with Weasley, but deliberately kept his chat with Andre to himself. Their friendship was more important to him than giving Murphy a head start on information he was bound to find anyway. "It's not much, but I thought I should mention it. I wish I could have gotten someone more informed than a groundskeeper, but he was the only one around."
"No, this is great. I can make a start with this, thank you," Murphy replied, transposing Harry's notes with his wand and making notes of his own.
"You're welcome, and now I have to go interview the Harpies, and then pick up my daughter from daycare. Take it easy."
Harry left the Harpies clubhouse a couple of hours later, and apparated back to the ministry. When he arrived, he politely greeted the carer, who blushed and stammered like she always did. She quickly walked inside and brought out Harry's four year old daughter.
"Daddy!" Zoey exclaimed, running over to her now kneeling father.
"Ouf, hi kiddo, did you have a good day?"
"Yep, we did colouring today and I used ALL the colours!" Zoey proclaimed proudly.
"Wow, do I get to see your picture?" Harry asked with a beaming smile as he picked her up and began walking to the apparition point.
"No," Zoey replied firmly. "Not until Mummy comes home."
"Awww," Harry said, pouting theatrically.
Zoey shook her head decisively. "Nope, not until Mummy comes home."
Harry chuckled and gave his little princess a kiss on the head. "Ok, ok. You're just like your Mum, you know that?"
"Yep!" Zoey proclaimed proudly.
"I'm home!" Hermione announced happily as she appeared in the entry hall.
"Mommy!" Zoey called out cheerfully running into the hall to embrace her beloved mother.
Hermione smiled and kissed Zoey on the head gently, brushing back some of her wild brown hair. Her bright emerald eyes shone with joy as they walked into the kitchen hand in hand.
"Good evening," Harry said, stepping away from the stove, casting a stasis charm to keep it warm. He crossed the kitchen to give his wife a passionate kiss. Zoey smiled as her heart warmed seeing the love in the eyes of her parents. She didn't see the lust that was also smoldering between them, thankfully.
"How was your day?" Harry asked as he returned to cooking and his girls sat down.
"Long, everyone is respecting the peace, but it doesn't make the Goblins like us any better. I think some Goblins enjoy loading up the ministry with excessive paperwork."
Harry chuckled. "It wouldn't surprise me."
While Harry focused on cooking, Zoey and Hermione talked about the former's day. She proudly told her mother about all the tasks she'd accomplished that had won her praise from all the carers. She proudly produces her picture and displays it for her enthusiastic parents. It was a picture of Zoey with her parents, in front of their three story house, painted purple for some reason.
Hermione smiled and wrapped Zoey in her arms and kissed her on the head. "This is wonderful, honey, but, uh, why is the house purple?"
"Purple was the only colour I hadn't used yet," Zoey stated emphatically.
"I see," Hermione replied, sounding suitably impressed.
"Are you going to be an artist when you grow up, and paint pretty pictures for me and your mum?" Harry asked as he placed the chicken and vegetables in front of his girls and sat down.
Zoey thought for a moment before shaking her head. "I want to work with mummy."
"I see, you know, to be as smart as mummy, you have to read lots of books," Harry informed her.
Zoey's eyes lit up happily. "I want to read all the books!"
"But if you're busy reading all the books, when will we have time to hang out?" Harry asked, pouting theatrically. Hermione rolled her eyes while smothering a laugh.
"I guess… I don't need to read all the books, not all at once," Zoey said to herself nodding.
"I'm glad, I'd miss my darling daughter if she were caught up with a book all day," Harry replied.
"I'd miss you too daddy, even if you have icky boy germs," Zoey said, grinning.
Harry feigned offence as he rounded the table, picking up his daughter and tickling her. "Who said I have icky boy germs?!"
Zoey cackled, nuzzling into her father's body. "Nana Lily said all boys have icky boy germs."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course she did."
"Come on, let's finish dinner and then we can find somewhere to put your picture," Hermione suggested.
"Yes, Mummy!" Zoey said happily as Harry dropped her back into her seat and they resumed dinner.
Later as Harry and Hermione were getting ready for bed, Hermione walked over to her husband and gave him a heated kiss. Harry smiled, pulling her against him and rubbing her round ass with his hands. "What was that for?"
"Being a good father, seeing you and Zoey together makes everything worth it."
"Makes what worth it?" Harry asked curiously.
"You know, breaking up and getting back together after we finished school. I was worried we'd never get back together," Hermione said, hurriedly, as if she were scrambling for an answer.
"Oh, yeah, well, I always had faith we'd work it out. There's no other woman for me than you, Mione," Harry said with a smile.
Hermione rested her head against Harry's chest, as small happy tears ran down her cheeks. "I love you, Harry."
Harry kissed Hermione on top of the head and stroked her hair. "I love you, too."
Harry sat bolt upright in bed, sweat pouring down his face as he drew his knees up against his chest and cradled his head. It felt as if he'd just finished a marathon, except in marathon's you don't have a wand wielding psychopath chasing after you.
Harry walked into the ensuite, and splashed water on his face. He took a long deep breath and turned around to step into the shower. It was close enough to when he was supposed to wake up anyway, Hermione, as usual, was already up preparing breakfast and getting Zoey ready for daycare.
Harry thought about his nightmare as he bathed, he'd never felt so scared. He was being chased by a bald man with no nose, something about him deeply frightened Harry. It felt like he knew this person, but he couldn't think of any time in his life he would have encountered someone who looked like that. And Harry was sure he'd remember someone who looked like that.
Harry shook it off and finished showering, getting changed and heading down stairs to have breakfast with his wife and daughter. There had been an odd uptick in nightmares plaguing him lately, but it wasn't anything he was worried about. As he sat down to write up the notes from yesterday, Harry put it out of his mind. Knowing that if it became a problem, he could talk to Daphne about it.
Pottermore Estate was always beautiful in autumn, and Zoey loved it because there were big piles of fallen leaves she could race through while being chased by her silly uncle Padfoot. He would eventually catch her and give his precious niece licks on the face before letting her up so she could run off again.
Harry loved being home because some of his fondest memories could be found here. Of growing up in the magnificent estate, surrounded by loving family and loyal friends. He was always most at peace at home with family.
"You look pensive, my love," Lily observed as they were left alone at the dining table, while Hermione, James, Sirius and Zoey explored the grounds. A stag, a Grimm, a little girl, and her mother walking between them, was a sight you could only find at the ancestral Potter estate.
"Hm? Oh, it's nothing," Harry replied dismissively. He appreciated that his mother cared, she was always the one out of his parents he felt he could confide in. It wasn't that James was a bad father, he was incredibly supportive and Harry trusted him enough to come to him for counsel whenever he had a major decision. But the bond between mother and son trumped that, and James respected it, having had a similar relationship with his own mother.
"Don't give me that, Harry James Potter, I can always see when something is bothering you. Please tell me, I want to help."
Harry sat quietly for a few moments, staring out over the grounds of the estate. "This is going to sound silly…" Harry said before sighing. "I've been having nightmares for the last few nights. Vivid ones that scare the hell out of me and leave me covered in sweat, sitting bolt upright in bed. I haven't been able to shake them, and I don't want to use a dreamless sleep potion because… well, we saw how that went with dad."
Lily nodded. "Tell me about your dreams."
Harry elaborated about the nightmares that made him uneasy about going to bed at night. Lily listened dutifully, nodding along, and waiting until he was finished before speaking again. "The fact you can remember these nightmares in such vivid detail worries me, I think you need help, Harry. I think you should talk to Daphne. And don't tell me 'it's fine', you know it's not, otherwise it wouldn't be bothering you so much."
Harry wanted to argue the point, but he knew… "You're right, mum."
"I know," Lily replied smugly.
Hermione walked up and smiled at the pair. "Is everything ok?"
Harry slipped his arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her in close. "Yep, all good."
"Thank you for seeing me, Daphne," Harry said as the two sat down in her office at St. Mungo's.
"For my best friend's husband, only the best will do," Daphne assured him. "So, how can I help you?"
Harry explained his situation to Daphne, in much the same way he had to his mother. Daphne sat quietly making notes. Once Harry was finished, Daphne sat in thought for a couple of minutes. "Nightmares on their own aren't something to worry about. Normally, I would suggest looking at your diet or sleeping habits. My concerns lay in the vivid nature and sharp details of the nightmares. As if they're memories rather than the imaginings of your perverted mind."
"Ha, ha…" Harry replied while Daphne stuck her tongue out at him. This was their way, they'd been bantering at each other since their first year in Hogwarts. To the point that rumours started in fifth year that they were secretly dating. They weren't and never had, but there was an undeniable spark between them.
Daphne removed her glasses, and pulled her chair around the desk to sit in front of Harry. She plucked his glasses off his face and dropped them onto the desk beside her own. "I need to peer into your mind, as worrying as that prospect is."
"You just don't want to admit, you're looking forward to finally being inside my head," Harry said, grinning.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "In your dreams…"
Harry thought about replying to that comment, but decided against it, so as not to upset his wife and wife's best friend. He had more restraint than his father or godfather.
"Are you ready?" Daphne asked.
"Yeah, let's go."
Daphne drew her wand and pointed it at Harry. " Legilimens."
Daphne found herself floating in a void a few moments later. She chuckled to herself, knowing she suddenly had decades of teasing material. She glanced around herself for memories of Harry's nightmares, when something caught her eye. Floating towards a spot in the distance, Daphne landed on what her mind perceived as an island. In front of her was a gray featureless wall, reaching out to touch it, Daphne snatched her hand back instantly, backing away.
Something made Daphne back away, as fear and anxiety roiled in the pit of her stomach. She slowly withdrew from Harry's head and sat back with a worried look on her face.
"So… what's the prognosis, doc?" Harry asked, he frowned when he saw the worried expression on her face. "Daphne, what's wrong?"
"I think you need to see for yourself…"