The next morning everyone was tense, subdued. Harry and Hermione were still thinking about what had been in the message from Sirius yesterday, along with the letter from James Potter, and the implications and shocks. Both Susan and Daphne were eager to know, but knew not to push. Emma and Nathan decided to treat the day normally; the teens would talk to them when they were ready.
As the morning went on however, Daphne grew more and more concerned. Piecing together what she had been told and what she knew, she was able to make a good guess as to what her two muggle-raised friends, especially Harry, had been bequeathed. Yet, due to that upbringing, she knew they would not understand the full implications. Sighing to herself, she decided to wait until the evening before bringing the issues needed up. This was a topic that they needed to have, but without any outside viewpoint. While she honestly thought highly of Hermione's parents, Daphne was still wary of revealing just how backwards the Magical world was compared to theirs. Hell, she was uncomfortable with the subject they had to talk about, and she'd been raised in that culture!
Sunlight streamed down onto them as they sat at the small table he'd placed on the balcony. The wine was a decent southern France export, one she liked, and the food was a nice combination of a lighter English meal with a French dessert. Her favourite, in fact. He'd clearly pulled out the best china he had, and had even done some house cleaning while he was on enforced leave from Gringotts. Clearly, he was making a huge effort.
But... Fleur could not enjoy any of it. The food barely registered, the wine seemed tasteless. She'd known coming home that she had to hurt him... badly. Seeing all this... it just made her heart ache more.
"Is there something wrong?" She looked up into Bill Weasley's earnest eyes, so obviously filled with concern and care for her. How was it that the same two people could have such radically different offspring, she mused. Bill, the eldest of the Weasley children, was a true gentleman, so unlike his younger brothers. Charlie and Percy she'd not met properly, but the others had filled her in on them. Fred and George were die-cast court jesters and inventors, and she'd always found their humour infectious. The two still had some things to learn in her opinion, but neither was malicious or cruel. They laughed freely, always striving to ease the tension.
But then there were the two youngest siblings. Ron was, frankly, scum. Fleur found herself almost repulsed by his total lack of manners, courtesy, intellect... lack of anything besides an ability to consume mind-boggling amounts of food in one sitting really. Fortunately he was so weak-willed her Allure, even muted, rendered him almost comatose. At least in that state he was incapable of doing anything to try and attract her favour. It helped Fleur immensely in her quest to simple ignore his existence.
Ginny however had been a different matter. It was clear the brains that had skipped Ronald had joined with Ginny instead. Like the twins, she had a sharp sense of humour. But unlike theirs, hers was cruel. Put downs and insults under a thin veneer of humour. Fleur had not been unaware of what the youngest Weasley had been saying behind her back... often with her mother agreeing with everything. It had both enraged and sickened her, But Fleur had been determined to prove herself the better woman, and had thus not allowed her inner feelings to show around them. Only Bill and Tonks had learned of the hurt and anger she felt.
Fleur paused in her thoughts then, a memory returning. Last weekend Ginny had gone with her Father to visit the twins... or so they had said. But Fleur had noticed that they were both acting a little furtive, and her own Veela enhanced senses had told her that they were not being totally truthful. When they had finally returned that evening, there had been a fundamental change in Ginny, and to a lesser extent Arthur. Ever since Ginny had not been like she had been the week previous. No barbed comments, no put-downs or snobbish actions. No, she seemed pensive, her thoughts clearly inward focused. And from the expressions on her face, they were not pleasant thoughts.
Shaking off the thought, Fleur returned her attention to Bill, who was sat across from her looking mildly concerned. Looking into his eyes again, Fleur had to fight down the impulse to sob. She knew that he'd noticed how she had acted differently this week just gone... ever since she'd come back from that Barbeque at Hermione's... where Harry was now. Fleur had been grappling with herself ever since, her mind saying one thing but her body another. Curse her Veela heritage! Nearly everything that had gone bad for her in her life could be laid before that aspect. From her delayed, but rapid puberty, which had resulted in her loosing touch with her pre-teen friends. They had entered puberty like everyone else, but she'd remained a 'little girl' till she was almost fourteen. They'd drifted away, uncomfortable with an apparent child hanging around.
Then after her growth spurt, her Veela nature had polarised everyone. Her beauty and Allure enraptured all but the strongest willed men, while provoking anger and jealousy in the women. She'd had few friends in her mid to late teens, as the girls were worried about her inadvertently - or not - stealing their boyfriends away from them. And the men who fawned over her were the sort that she couldn't stand. Being a Veela, even a part one, subjected one to their tastes. Veelas', instinctively, sort out strong willed men who could resist their allure. A high magical potential was a bonus. Most of those Fleur had met in her life had been unsuitable, because of age or circumstances.
In fact, the first one who she had briefly considered as suitable had been Harry Potter.
From the onset, it had been clear to her that underneath he was one of the strongest people she'd met. His force of will and moral centre were ideal, and his magical power... he'd practically reeked of power! The age gap was not a huge barrier, certainly not in a few years time.
However... there had been something... off, about him. His outward meek manner clashed with what she sensed underneath, and there was an air of loneliness about him. While she could sympathise, there was more to it than would be explained by a reclusive nature. There was something... dark, about it.
And then there had been his aura. All beings had one, but only a few beings could sense them. Humans could to an extent, those who were so gifted being those with greater empathy and intuition. Veela were well attuned to reading auras; it was part of how they chose their mates.
When she'd tried to read Harry's however... she'd run into a darkness that distorted, corrupted his aura, hinting at pain and horror, torture and death. Ideas anathema to Veela who were, at their most primal level, being's of intimacy and pleasure. Fleur had not a clue as to what caused it, but it frightened her.
So she'd backed off, cast away those idle thoughts of approaching him in a few years time, and carried on looking.
Bill had been a gem. While not as ideal as Harry had the potential to be, he was head and shoulders above everyone else. Fair minded, strong willed and with a decent magical strength, he was, as her mother would say, 'a good match'.
It hadn't been that hard to fall in love with him. He was caring, intelligent, and had a level head on his shoulders. He'd been out into the wider world, and so was not as introverted and stuck up as most of the British wizards were. Most of all, he appeared to either lack or have a very good grip on his temper, something that his mother and youngest siblings didn't. Fleur had been able to see herself growing old with the tall redhead, content with her life.
Typical though that just when her life was looking up, her Veela heritage would have to screw things up once more.
It had been when she'd greeted Harry at Hermione's. She'd truly not expected him to be there, and out of reflex she'd brought her complete attention to him. What she'd felt and sensed had sent a shockwave through her. The Darkness and corruption were gone! His aura was pure, radiant... as close to Veela 'Holy' as one could get. Her inner Veela had instantly been snared, the desires coursing through her without control. It had been only through force of will that she'd held things together as well as she'd had. Ever since she'd tried to dampen her bodies desire for him, remind herself that she'd made her choice... and just from the evidence of her own eyes, Harry was already intimate with at least Hermione, and likely the other two. Her Veela senses had told her that they had gone further, together, before. There was a bond of some sort between the four of them. They did not need an older Veela trying to muscle in on their relationship. But her Veela heritage would not be satisfied with Bill Weasley. He'd been instantly cast aside, and now her dreams were populated with images of emerald eyes and raven black hair.
She had finally accepted that she'd never be able to settle for Bill, not while there was Harry. She wasn't even sure she could settle for anyone but Harry, but that was her problem, for later.
Right now, she had to deal with Bill. For while she was no long able to love him like she had, she still respected and was fond of him. That was what made things so much harder... and more painful.
Clearing her throat, Fleur set down her fork. "Bill... you remember what I told you about Veela?" It had been one of their earliest conversations; she'd been able to open up and share part of what it was like being a Veela.
Bill nodded slowly, setting down his glass. "Something's come up because of that, right?" he asked quietly. There was a hint of suspicion in his eyes.
Fleur nodded slowly, tears beginning to form in hers. "Oui Bill. Veela use many ways to find our perfect match... or az close az we can find. You're ze best, far, far better zhan any other..."
"...But someone's come along and ensnared that part of you." Bill spoke softly, not accusingly.
Fleur nodded once more, a single tear running down her cheek. "I did not want zhis Bill! I was 'appy with you! I tried to resizt, not to..."
"Fleur." Bill said gently, moving a hand over to cover her own. In his eyes she could see sadness mixed with concern. "I'm not angry with you. I understood what you said back then... and what you did not say. I've always known, in the back of my mind, that something like this could happen someday."
"But eet's unfair to you!" She wailed, tears now running down both cheeks. "I'm trying not to act like zhose Veela's in your mothers articles, yet I find myself zhinking of him all ze time!" A sob escaped her control as she bowed her head. "I feel like I'm betraying you..."
"I don't blame you for this Fleur." Bill continued to speak calmly, though a thread of pain could be sensed beneath his words. "It's part of you, and without it, you wouldn't be you. Am I disappointed? Yes. Upset? Of course. But angry? No." Bill sighed deeply before he spoke once more.
"I'm not going to try and stop you Fleur. I have to admit that I couldn't help but think that what we had was too good to be true..."
"Eet would 'ave been Bill! I was 'appy, eager even to zettle down with you, Molly be damned!" Fleur burst out, her eyes lifting to meet his once more. "Please believe me!" She pleaded.
Bill now lifted her hand and kissed her knuckle. "I do Fleur, I really do. I can tell that you don't want this as much as I don't, but we can't change things like this. I'm not going to act like my brother Ron, bemoaning everything that's not how I want it." He paused to take a shaky breath before releasing it slowly. "I don't even hold it against whoever it is that's captivated you. It's not his fault, just like it's not yours."
Fleur could see in his eyes that he really meant what he was saying, as unbelievable as it seemed. He truly did not hold her heritage against her. Smiling slightly, she stood up to step around the table to sit on his lap. Despite her inner Veela craving Harry's touch, she still felt attracted to the older man, and she kissed his cheek softly. "Zhank you for being so understanding."
Bill chuckled slightly. "I won't say I won't be trying to drown my sorrows tonight, so I won't." He wrapped an arm around her stunning figure. "Nor I am going to say that I wish this didn't happen. But it did, so we have to deal with it." He hesitated, an unsure look in his eyes.
"What iz eet Mon ami?"
Bill swallowed nervously. "I... I don't have the right to ask, but... do I know who it is?"
Fleur sighed. "Eet's 'Arry."
Bill frowned. "Harry, as in, Harry Potter?"
Fleur nodded. "Oui. Something'z... changed, in 'im. His aura iz pure now, not twisted as eet was before..."
Bill groaned. "Oh Ron's going to be even more insufferable now." Then his expression brightened. "Still, at least he's a good man. And it could have been someone worse... like Snape."
"Bill!" Fleur snapped, eyes narrowing to slits. Her free hand turned palm upwards, the fingers curled inwards as sparks danced between them.
Bill recognised the danger signs instantly. Ron hadn't, and had nearly been roasted alive for it. "Sorry, poor joke." After she had relaxed - and the threat of a fireball forming in her hand was gone - Bill relaxed too. "I hope that you'll remember me fondly, even while you're in his arms."
Fleur smiled sadly. "Always non ami. Always." Then her smile turned a little mischievous. "Maybe I'll make eet up to you someday... I do know a few cousins who are looking for a good man..."
Bill smiled warmly. "They wouldn't be you Fleur, but thank you for the thought. But I think you should focus on approaching Harry. And Hermione. You sure they're intimate with each other?"
Fleur nodded firmly. "Zhere iz no mistake. Zhere iz love between zhem... and I'm almost sure eet's spreading between zhem and ze other two."
"Well then, you'll have to approach them carefully. I haven't had much contact with her, but everything I've heard and seen tells me Hermione is not someone one wants to cross lightly. Or at all, really."
Fleur nodded, having reached the same feeling. She would have to approach them very carefully, making her case and position clear from the onset. 'But at least, papa won't have to worry about our line dying out anymore.' She thought idly, before refocusing her attention on Bill.
"In any case, zere will always be a place for you Bill. I believe zhat 'Arry could do with your expertiez as well. Your knowledge iz impressive."
Bill smiled, feeling better about himself. He remembered everything that had been floating around so far this summer, and knew that Harry was in the centre of everything. He'd already sworn to help anyway he could. If it took a sacrifice on his part - letting Fleur Delacour go - to help Harry, then so be it. As he'd said, Harry was a good man.
While Bill and Fleur were talking, Harry and Hermione were tidying up after the evening meal. Her parents were out with friends, an invite to a work do. Thus the four had to feed themselves, not an issue with Harry, though it had been almost a fight when Doddy had appeared, determined to cook for 'The Great Harry Potter'. Once more, Hermione had been struck by the physical changes in the little elf. He looked strong, toned. A House Elf hunk. A hunk dressed really weirdly.
It had been Susan's comment about he must have the female House Elves falling all over him that reminded her of Winky. When she asked, Hermione had been shocked to see Dobby look away nervously. When Harry pressed him on the topic, Dobby had revealed that Winky was wasting away faster than before. With the students gone, the castle had less ambient magic for her to soak up. He reluctantly admitted that he doubted that she'd survive the summer at this rate. At that point, Harry had looked at her, and Hermione knew what he was thinking. Once again Hermione had to think: if the only way to save someone's life was to enslave them, did one do it? Would someone choose slavery over death?
While she was still convinced that it was wrong, and that the House Elves saw it the way they did was due to how they were raised, she had realised that in the end it was Winky's choice to make. Hermione did not have the right to impose her choice on her. It would have made her as bad as Dumbledore. Seeing in her expression what she'd worked out, Harry had given Dobby orders; to tend to Winky until she was able to speak and think clearly, get her on her feet enough to make it to them. Then she would be offered the choice to bond with any one of them there, or to House Potter as a whole. Dobby had almost bounced through the ceiling in joy before disappearing. Harry had sighed before returning to whipping something together for the four of them.
After a tasty but simple meal, Harry and Hermione were tidying up the kitchen when they heard a throat clearing. They looked up to see Daphne stood in the doorway nervously. She hesitated before speaking. "We... need to talk." Hearing the serious tone in her worried voice both teens followed her through into the lounge, where Susan was already sat reading. She looked up with a wide smile as they entered, though it dropped when she saw the look on Daphne's face.
Harry sat down next to Susan on the sofa, with Hermione on his other side. As one all three looked at Daphne. "Okay, what's the matter?" Harry asked. Ever since the pair of them had returned from the private reading of Sirius's Will, Daphne had been withdrawn and quiet, her face clearly showing that she was troubled by something.
Daphne sighed before sitting in one of the armchairs. "First, I need to explain a few things." She said leaning forwards.
"I don't know just how much you two know this, or how much you've picked up, but our world is controlled by the elite, Pure-Blood men. Nearly all the laws are written by them, to protect them and their property. Mostly, women are seen more for providing the next heir of the family." She held up a hand to stop Hermione starting a rant. "It's wrong, yes, but it's been this way for hundreds of years now.
"Now, not all the old, noble families are like that, but most are. Blood Purity is a great concern for them. That's how He-Who..." She paused at the look Harry was giving her. "Okay... V...Vol...Voldemort, gained so much popularity before he revealed his true colours. He gave a voice to the 'Blood Supremacists'."
Harry chuckled lightly, drawing the attention of all three girls. "I guess no-body knew he's actually a Half-Blood then..."
Daphne's jaw fell. "What? How did you...!" Hermione yelped.
Harry smiled faintly; He skimmed over this part when he told them about that encounter. "Down in the Chamber of Secrets, before I faced the Basilisk, I found myself actually talking to Tom Riddle, the echo of the boy who owned that diary. He told me who he really was. Tom Marvelo Riddle, named for his father, a muggle. If you rearrange the letters, you get 'I am Lord Voldemort'. Not sure about his mum though."
The three witches were silent for a long moment. "Okay... that's, unexpected." Susan finally stated.
Hermione nodded, then faced Daphne once more. "Interesting as this is... You were saying Daphne?"
Shaking herself, Daphne resumed her impromptu lecture. "Anyway... As I was saying, the Elite Pure-Blood Men control the government, the laws, everything they can. I heard that of the ten Hogwarts Governors, eight are old family men." She looked towards Susan.
"It make's your Aunts achievements even more remarkable Susan. But she's almost certainly not going to get any higher than she is now. Traditionally, when the current Minister is sacked, the head of the DMLE steps in to run things until the Wizengamot vote in a replacement. But, given the sexism at play, I suspect they'll skip over her and elevate Scrimgour to the role of Acting-Minister."
Catching the look of disgust on her face, Hermione turned to look at Susan. "You know this man?"
Susan nodded unhappily. "Yeah, I do. Head Auror. Showy, more concerned with looking good and 'dashing' rather than actually doing work. Delegates most of his duties to his underlings, then takes the credit when they succeed, but none of the blame when things go wrong. If he was made Acting-Minister, he'd likely have anybody he doesn't like arrested and claim they were Death Eaters just so he could say he's doing something."
"Honestly!" Hermione snapped. "How could someone like that get to where he is now? And how could he get away with it?"
Daphne sighed once more. "How they all get anywhere, by trading in on the family name and connections. 'Who You Know' and 'Who Your Parents Are' are the things that are most important. As well as the amount of gold they throw around. Hermione, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but to the majority of them, you'll always be an... 'uppity mudblood whore', not fit even to be some rich man's concubine, no matter who you married or what you achieved." The disgust in her tone for the label was clear.
Harry frowned, then his expression faded into one of confusion. "Concubine?"
All three young women looked at him in surprise. Then Hermione muttered darkly. "God damn those Dursleys..."
Daphne shook her head slowly. "I'm not sure what the terms mean in the muggle world exactly, but in the Magical World there are three officially recognised levels of a woman's involvement with a man; Concubine, Consort and Wife.
"A Concubine is basically a sex-slave Harry. It is a semi-permanent bond between a witch and a Wizard; the wizard can annul or transfer the bond as he chooses, but the witch can't. Her will is often completely suppressed, though it does depend on their 'master'. Most witches who become Concubines, remain so till the end of their days. Fortunately, the only truly legal way for a woman to end up in that situation these days is via an owed Life-Debt. It used to be that a witch could be sold off as a one at auction by their magical guardian, but that system was busted open and closed down just before the turn of the century." She grinned suddenly. "It was a Potter who led the operation. If I recall correctly, the young woman he had only a few weeks before proposed to went missing, and he went after her. Tore half of Magical Britain apart looking for her if you believe everything told, before he stormed into the auction house where she was going to be sold. Rescued his finance and over a dozen other young witches in the process.
"Anyway... The Consort is sort of a second class wife. She can speak for the Family and act in their behalf, and gets a decent allowance and a set inheritance should the man she's consorted to die, though all that depends on the contract she has with the wizard. The children can either take the Family name, or their mother's name, and any sons will inherit the family if the wife bore none. A consort can leave to marry or consort to another man, if everyone agrees. If she does however, she looses all rights to the old family name and money.
"There is a bonus to being a Consort. For an old family which had no male heirs, it provides a way for the young witch to carry on the family name, as it is rare to find a wizard willing to forgo his own family name and take up hers." She looked at Susan softly. "Susan's a prime example of this: no brothers, no other heirs to the Bones family. She can't marry without losing the family line, unless she becomes a Consort.
"Now, the Wife is the most powerful and prestigious. She's second only to her husband, and the head of any women in the house. If they have a problem, she's the first port of call. Depending on her husband, she can take any role he could, including sitting on the Wizengamot if he chooses not to himself. It's a big thing though to be a wife though, as normally it's for life. Only the man can start divorce proceedings, the woman can't, though the Head of the wife's birth Family can. Any sons she bears will inherit the family name and holdings, the oldest first.
"There is also one last thing. While a man can have as many Consorts as he wishes, provided he can both afford and find willing witches, and as many concubines as he has witches own him life debts, he can have only one wife..." Daphne paused. "...usually."
Harry about to ask what she meant with that last statement, but Hermione could not contain herself anymore.
"That system is so barbaric! Why, it demeans women completely! Under those rules, Harry could claim every witch in the school as a concubine, since he killed the basilisk that could have killed everyone!" At his shocked and pale expression, she calmed down a little. "Not that I expect you would Harry. You're too noble to do something like that."
Daphne smiled lightly. "I don't think that would work anyway Hermione. The threat of that monster was too defuse, too random. He could claim Ginny as one..."
"No, never!" Harry yelped. "She's bad enough as it is! Besides, it'd make me no better than the Dursleys, or Voldemort." His head dipped a little. "Or Dumbledore, really." After a moment he looked up again at Daphne. "What did you mean about a man 'usually' only be allowed one wife?"
Daphne smiled softly, happy that he'd picked up on that. "Harry... Sirius made you his heir, didn't he?" She asked gently. At his stiff nod, she pressed on. "Had he not, the entire Black estate would have passed directly to Draco." The scowls that formed on the other three teens faces mirrored her own feelings regarding that. "And he'd be in the position you're in now."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked nervously. 'What now?'
"Harry, the only thing more important to those old farts than 'Blood-Purity' is the preservation of the Noble Lines. So many houses were wiped out during the Grindelwald war, and the first rise of V... Voldemort, that the remaining lines are terrified of any more dieing out. Mainly since whatever is in the vault of a family that is completely destroyed automatically becomes Gringott's." She smirked. "Their so terrified of anymore gold being 'lost' to the goblins that even the most racist Supremacist will beget a heir with a muggleborn, or even a muggle. Though I'd expect the child would be taken from the muggle on birth, with the poor woman being obliviated of the knowledge of having the child."
Harry felt sick at the thought, though a glance at Hermione drove that away. 'Oh shit! She's furious!'
It was only a couple of second later that Mt Hermione erupted.
With the explosive force of ten Krakatoa's.
"THOSE SICK, TWISTED, EVIL, SCUM-SUCKING..." She shot up out of her seat and began striding around the room, a constant string of insults emerging from her mouth at ear deadening volume. Harry's eyes widened as she continued, and he looked at the other two girls. Both Susan and Daphne appeared just as shocked as he was.
"...FILTHY SONS OF DROOLING INBRED WHORES AND HIPPOS..."
'Bloody hell Hermione!'
"...HEARTLESS BASTARDS!"
Seeing that she had stopped, at least for the moment, Harry leaned forwards and grasped her hand in his own. "Easy Hermione..." He half whispered soothingly, gently pulling on her arm. "...You know how we feel about you... how I feel." He all but dragged her down between himself and Susan, and as she sat they both wrapped an arm around her still trembling shoulders. Both knew it was from rage.
"I won't let anything happen to you Hermione. You know that."
Slowly, taking several deep breathes, Hermione calmed down, feeling the warmth that soaked into her from both sides. At last she looked at Daphne once more. "So where you going with all this Daphne?" She asked calmly. At least on the surface.
Daphne flushed. "As Harry is now the sole heir to two Noble Houses, he's exempt from the 'One Wife' rule. Instead, he has to take a wife for each line. He can't have one wife to continue both lines, and he's not allowed to combine them either. If he doesn't at least get at the very least betrothed within a year of his coming-of-age or emancipation to two women, then Draco, as the last remaining male descendent of a Black - his mother - will get the Black Family name and fortune. Then it's up to him to take two wives." She pulled a face of disgust. "I pity those he chooses."
Harry slowly sank back into the sofa, his face a mask of shock. Hermione frowned when she saw this. Harry was being offered most boys' wet dreams on a silver platter! Hell, there'd be witches throwing themselves at him naked when this got out! But by the look on his face, she knew he was terrified at the prospect. "What's wrong Harry?"
"How... how can I possibly ask two girls to marry me? I'm just... Harry. The only thing people see is my bloody title and money. I don't know a thing about girls... women, whatever. How the hell am I supposed to care for several women?" There was an incredulous tone to his voice, and Hermione sighed in frustration as she recognised the source. After all those years at the Durlseys, Harry had no sense of self-worth. As much as he didn't come out and say it, Harry still believed deep down that he was the lowest, most unworthy person on the planet. That his lot in life was only pain, loneliness and death.
"I mean... I'm a marked man." Harry continued. "It's not safe for anyone to be around me. Everyone who's cared about me has died. Besides, I haven't a chance against Voldemort. He's too powerful and experienced. I'm nothing special..."
"HARRY, YOU STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!" Hermione had heard enough! She spun round and sat down astride Harry, her eyes inches from his own. He looked up, and tried to push himself through the sofa when he saw her blazing eyes. "Harry you are not worthless! You are a loving, caring, gentle man who will stand up to anything to protect people! Those are all worthy traits! Talk like that I just heard is the Dursleys talking! You accept their view, and they have won! Damn it Harry, do you really think I'd fall in love with a dead man? You believe that I could love someone who is not worthy of my love? You think either Susan or Daphne could love someone who was worth nothing?" Tears were beginning to run down her cheeks now but she didn't care as she continued to glare into his eyes. "Harry, I love you, for who you are! I've loved you for years now! I've seen you at your worst, and I still love you! What do I have to do to make you understand? What must we do to get you let go of all this pain and anguish you cling to? How can we give you hope, when you deny it to yourself?" She couldn't maintain the stare any more, and she collapsed into sobs on his chest. From both sides the pair of them were engulfed in hugs, as Daphne had moved to sit in Hermione's old spot on Harry's left.
Harry wrapped his arms around her, shocked at her outburst and breakdown. Her words rang through his head as he leaned back slightly, cradling her against him. He had very rarely seen Hermione lose it like that before, and each time it had been pretty serious.
Then he realised the words she'd used. She said she loved him for years now. He'd wondered, hoped, but had never assumed. But now, she'd said the words.
And didn't she say that Susan and Daphne were in love with him too?
Was this the reason Daphne brought this topic up, aside from punishing Draco some more? He could see now that they could use the system - twisted, sick and disgusting as it was - to legally keep their multi-relationship going, and no longer have to hide it. He'd sensed that there had been times when the other two had wanted to show their feelings, but had to hold back in public. At least, in the Magical World, they could act without restraint.
Drawing his thoughts back to the moment, he stroked Hermione's back. "Hermione... I hear what you're saying. It's just... hard, sometimes."
Hermione sniffed. "I'm sorry Harry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that..."
"Don't be. I needed it." Harry smiled wryly. "Likely will again."
A small chuckle escaped Hermione's lips. "Definitely. And I'll keep telling you off until it sinks in."
"That's my Hermione."
She sat up now, a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth. "'Your' Hermione?" She asked with a light teasing note.
Harry gulped, but decided to answer truthfully. "Well, yes. I mean... if you want to remain that close to me..."
"I do, Harry." She half whispered, hugging him once more.
For a few seconds Harry warred with himself, unsure if he should say what was on his mind. Finally, he decided how. "So... if I asked you to... marry me..."
Hermione broke out into a broad, happy grin. "Yes, Harry, yes!"
Harry smiled warmly. "Don't you think I should ask your parents permission first?"
Hermione giggled. "Oh they won't say no." She sobered a little. "Though... we will have to wait a little while." At his look, she explained. "You can marry at sixteen with parental consent, Eighteen without. At least, in the muggle world..." she looked over at Daphne, one eyebrow raised.
The blond smiled. "Almost the same. Sixteen and seventeen."
Harry now looked thoughtful. "So... that's one..." he muttered, clearly thinking aloud. He looked at Susan. "Was Daphne right, that you can't get married?"
Susan sighed. "Pretty much. The only way I could, would be if I found a man willing to give up his family name and take my own. About the only one's who would do would be third son's and the like, who had no chance of getting their family name. The lines of succession go from father to first son, to their son, and so on. It only goes to a second son if the first son's line died without issue." She shrugged. "Thing is, the trend right now is for magical families to only have one son. The only one with more is the Weasleys, and I'd never marry Ronald."
Harry nodded slowly. "So... Consort, was it?" At her nod, he smiled shyly. "To House Potter?"
Her expression brightened, eyes widening. "Really?"
"Yes. And you would get the wedding you want."
The next instant Harry was buried under two very happy witches, as Susan had tackled him with a squeal of joy, and Hermione had hugged him tightly once more, pleased at his thoughtfulness and caring. She'd grappled with the problem of how to maintain their multi-relationship in the future. Certainly he'd marry one of them - and she'd hoped that it would be her - but the other two would have been regarded as little more than live in mistresses. But Daphne had just given them the means to get around that! Best of all, she hadn't needed to prompt him at all!
Susan meanwhile was ecstatic! She'd always known from a young age that her chances for a happily married life were slim. Best she could really hope for was a second wife status, which could be very awkward. Most women were not willing to share, and would demand many concessions of her and her family. Even then, it would not be an equal sharing, little more than contract to continue her line, with the man in question having little to do with the child. And she sure as hell was not going to be a single mother! Unwed, un-contracted mothers were looked down by just about everyone in the Magical World, as it was assumed that they were whores, or slept around too much and were careless. And having a child would deny almost any chance of getting a man. Most wizards did not want the extra baggage of a child not from their loins.
But Harry had come through for her, not only giving her the best she could get, but a wedding to boot! Consort Contracts were just that, contracts, names signed onto parchment. An actual wedding was not deemed required. Harry, however, promised her one. She'd be a fool to turn this down!
It took a few minutes for Harry to get some breathing room again, as Hermione seemed determined to hug the stuffing out of him, while Susan had smothered the side of his face in kisses. When she saw his face, Hermione giggled: his right cheek and temple were noticeably redder than the left, Susan's light lipstick being left behind. After giving his face a quick wipe Harry mock-glared at Susan, who smiled back bashfully.
Harry now turned to face Daphne, who had watched them all with a slightly sad smile. "You know, I still need to find a Mrs Black..." His offer was clear.
Daphne was taken aback for a moment, before she replied. "Harry... I'm flattered that you offered that..." She trailed off.
"But?" Harry said, as both Hermione and Susan looked at her with confusion.
Daphne's face fell. "But... I can't."
Hermione frowned in confusion. "I thought you had..."
"Astoria and my other little sisters, yes." Daphne sighed. "But no brothers. And..." She paused.
"Daphne?" Susan asked, worry in her tone.
Daphne didn't answer, but stood up abruptly and walked to the window, her arms around herself. It appeared she was struggling with something... something personal.
Hermione moved to stand, and Harry followed her. Quickly all three of them stood behind Daphne, concern written across their features. "What is it Daphne?" Hermione asked gently, lightly resting a hand on the blonds elbow.
Daphne drew in a ragged breath: it sounded like she was fighting against tears. "Harry... If I accepted your offer... I'd loose any claim to my own Family. But much more importantly, I'd be forcing one of my sisters to carry on the name." A sob escaped her control. "I can't do that to them. Story... I love her, but she doesn't have the worldview I do. She's going to marry for love. She swore it, years ago."
She sniffed, eyes staring unseeing out the window. "And... there's something else. Something I haven't told any of you."
"What? What could it possibly be?" Susan asked, one hand now resting on the taller girls shoulder.
For a long moment Daphne didn't speak. Then in a quiet voice she spoke.
"To answer that... I have to tell you my Families darkest secret. I have to tell you why they fled their homes years ago." She paused. "Why my family is considered 'Dark' by the others."
"Then tell us." Harry said softly. "We won't judge you for it."
Daphne nodded in response. Then, in a trembling voice, she began to speak.