amagicalworld
patreon
The Grass Is Always Greener Chapter 20.
🕑 Added 2023-05-21 00:45:08 +0000 UTCContent Warnings: Teasing.
“Harry, darling, is the food not to your liking? Cyrus, I told you to pick a better place!”
Amelia Greengrass glared at her husband while Harry squirmed in his seat, silently begging his girlfriend to bail him out.
She gave him a look that clearly said; ‘Why are you looking at me? You asked for this.’
“T-this is fine Mrs. Greengrass,” Harry muttered, looking around the cozy private lounge of the Three Broomsticks. He didn’t have a problem with where they were, or the food they were being served. They were, however, midway through a seven-course meal, and Harry, who usually had some soup before moving straight to dessert for dinner, was struggling with the sheer quantity in front of him. The last lunch he’d had with his girlfriend’s parents had been a quick affair, understandable given that they’d dropped their business for the day in the face of rumors that he’d knocked up their eldest daughter.
That had not been the case this time. Both Cryus and Amelia had taken the day off to chew out everyone from Dumbledore to Bagman to even poor Percy Weasley for putting their daughter in danger. Once they were convinced the organizers of the Tournament were sufficiently chastised and after extracting promises from the Headmaster for greater safety measures during the final task, they spent the afternoon with their daughters before Harry joined them just as the sun was dipping below the lake, casting a beautiful orange glow in the skies above Hogsmeade. Astoria had tactfully (and wisely) brought up her pending Potions assignment and retreated to the castle, leaving the couple alone with Daphne’s parents.
They’d roamed the Main Street of Hogsmeade until it was time to eat. Cyrus had insisted on buying Harry a handsome watch from Twilfitt’s to replace his now non-functional one (which hadn’t worked since his time in the lake) before they’d retreated to the private lounge of the Three Broomsticks for dinner.
“Just Amelia will do, darling. Although I’d be more than happy if you grow comfortable enough to call me mum in the future.” Amelia smiled. “Cyrus, we’re taking them to the Ritz next time. Harry mustn’t feel like we don’t appreciate him.”
“Mum,” Daphne muttered, rolling her eyes. She understood her (completely insane) mother’s enthusiasm, but this was laying it on a bit thick, even for her.
“Darling, he is the son we’ve never had,” Amelia chuckled fondly at the heavy blush coating Harry’s cheeks. “Forgive a woman for wanting to spoil her son.”
“He’s not your son, mother.”
“He will be once you two marry.”
“We’re not getting married!” Daphne elbowed Harry, who nodded and echoed her words.
“We’re not getting married, Mrs- Amelia.”
“I barely tolerate his presence. It’s not like I love him or anything.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow and stared pointedly at the space between the chairs Harry and Daphne were sitting on. “You’ve been playing footsie with him since the entree. The last man I was this passionate about… well, I married him a month later.”
It was Daphne’s turn to beg someone to intervene. She turned to her father with beseeching eyes, only to be soundly ignored by a man who knew better than to intervene when his wife was on a roll.
“I-I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled, hastily pulling his leg away from Daphne’s.
Amelia chuckled. “Don’t be, darling. We’ve both seen the pictures. While I admit we got carried away and made the horrible mistake of believing that vulture’s words… well, pictures don’t lie, do they? You two can’t seem to keep your hands off each other.”
“No babies until you graduate,” Cyrus finally spoke up, wagging the butter knife in his hand in the couple’s direction. “And no getting married before you give your OWLs.”
Amelia clapped her hands excitedly. “That’s right! Two years for me to plan the perfect wedding!”
Daphne stabbed a potato with a fork and glared at Harry. See what happens when you say yes to dinner with my parents?
Harry shot her an apologetic smile.
“Would you like something else to eat, Harry?” Cyrus offered kindly.
“Uh… no, thank you, Mr. Greengrass,” Harry replied politely, trying his best not to offend the nice but stern man. “I’m not used to eating…” Harry gestured at the spread in front of him. “It’s a lot. I’m full, I just didn’t want to offend either of you,” he admitted.
“Honesty never offends us,” Cyrus replied, loosening his tie. “We prefer it, in fact.”
“But you must eat more, Harry. No wonder you’re as thin as a stick!” Amelia added.
“It’s the clothes,” Daphne said, saving Harry the trouble of explaining his complicated home life. It had taken him months to open up to her about it, and if he wasn’t ready to share it with her intrusive parents, she completely understood and respected his decision. They’d done their best to shrink and transfigure a shirt and Dudley’s jeans but given the extreme size difference between him and his cousin, the clothes still hung loosely off Harry’s body. “He’s quite muscular and lean. Perfect build for a seeker,” Daphne said without thinking.
“Yes, you’d know, wouldn’t you, daughter?” Amelia smirked. She chuckled quietly at the heavy blush that suddenly appeared on her daughter’s cheeks as the implication of what she’d just said finally sank in. “Cyrus, remind me what our daughter told us when we offered to buy tickets for the World Cup Final.”
“Quidditch is a pointless sport played by morons,” Cyrus intoned, staring at his daughter.
“Seriously?” Harry hissed, poking Daphne’s side.
“I’ll have you know I still have no interest in flying or watching Quidditch,” Daphne hissed back, her cheeks warm. “... when you’re not playing,” she added under her breath, ducking her head to hide her red face behind her loose, blonde hair.
“Is this what Muggles are wearing these days Harry?” Amelia asked, gesturing at the loose clothes he was wearing. “I must admit, most of their fashion escapes me. Constantly changing, one can never keep up.”
“Uh, no. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t really keep up with Muggle fashion either. These clothes belong to my cousin,” Harry explained, coughing awkwardly.
“Family heirlooms?”
“You could say that,” Harry murmured, squirming in his chair.
“Mum, why are we talking about Harry’s kooky Muggle relatives?” Daphne cut in, reaching out under the table to take Harry’s hand and squeeze it gently. He gave her a small, appreciative smile, grateful for the timely bailout. “Weren’t you telling us about your plans for our perfect wedding?” Daphne asked softly, steering the conversation back to safer waters.
Hashing out his past and telling them about his disgusting relatives served no one. He certainly didn’t want Daphne’s parents to see him as a pity case. The orphan who had to live with his deranged aunt and uncle because he had no one else. He doubted they’d still be as pleased about him dating Daphne once they learned the entire truth.
What kind of parents would want a damaged, scarred, and possibly haunted boyfriend for their daughter?
Amelia and Cyrus exchanged silent looks. They knew their daughter very well, perhaps even more so than she knew herself. And after more than a decade in politics, Cyrus could easily pick up when something was left unsaid. There was more to the story, things neither Daphne nor Harry were willing to tell them.
“You live with your Aunt and Uncle, yes, Harry?” Cyrus asked, remembering the titbit of information his daughter had shared in one of her letters. If his memory served him right, Harry lived with Lily Potter’s Muggle sister and her husband.
“Yes, sir.”
“What does your uncle do?”
“He’s the Director of Operation in Grunnings, sir,” Harry replied without thinking. “It’s a Muggle company that makes tools.” He paused, suddenly wary. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m a businessman, Harry,” Cyrus lied smoothly. “In the potions business, it pays to have contacts everywhere, even in the Muggle world. The friendship between your grandfather and my father is what made both our family’s fortunes. It turned Greengrass Potions into the preeminent supplier of potions to all of Europe. Perhaps I can enjoy a similarly fruitful relationship with your uncle.”
“I doubt it,” Harry mumbled under his breath.
“So, papa, how is the business?” Daphne asked, finally finding a natural segue she could use to guide the conversation away from the Dursleys.
“Booming. Mundungus and his ilk have inexplicably gone to ground which makes getting our hands on certain ingredients somewhat difficult but other than that… it’s never been better than it is now,” Cyrus replied with a satisfied smile.
“The Ministry cracking down on them?”
Cyrus shrugged. “Not according to my sources. But then, Amelia Bones runs a tight ship these days, so it’s possible.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a loud yawn.
All eyes turned to Harry, who peered apologetically around the table. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his cheeks warm. “I haven’t slept for more than three hours a night this past week.”
“He has horrible nightmares. Wakes up every night in a cold sweat and can’t go back to sleep,” Daphne added.
Cyrus opened his mouth to ask how his daughter knew that, only to shut it promptly after a kick from his wife under the table.
“Have you talked to a Healer about them Harry?” Amelia asked.
“They’re just dreams,” Harry muttered, shifting uncomfortably. He had a sneaking suspicion they were more than that, but he wasn’t about to confess to anyone, not even his girlfriend’s parents that he dreamt of Voldemort murdering people he’d never seen before.
Amelia nodded, knowing better than to push but made a mental note to reach out to an old friend, to see if she’d be willing to drop by and check on Harry. “Well, I think it’s time we all turned in. Thank you for a wonderful day, Harry.” She gracefully got to her feet and walked over to Harry, bending to kiss his cheeks.
“T-thank you for a lovely dinner Amelia,” Harry mumbled, blushing heavily.
He stood and Daphne followed his lead, only for Amelia to grab her daughter’s wrist.
“Harry, dear, do you mind if we have a quick chat with our daughter?”
“Not at all.” Harry turned to Daphne. “I’ll be waiting by the front door, okay?”
Daphne nodded.
“Mother, if this is about wedding planning I swear-”
“Did you tell him yet?” Amelia asked, her voice uncharacteristically serious.
“Tell him what?”
“Acting oblivious isn’t a good look on you, Daphne,” her father chimed in, sounding just as serious as his wife.
“Does it matter?”
“You’ve already had one pregnancy scare-”
Daphne snorted. “It wasn’t a pregnancy scare. Skeeter pulled everything in that article out of thin air. You believed it, panicked and rushed over to see if I was the one who got the family curse.”
“Even so, Harry has a right to know, darling,” Cryus said calmly.
“Why?” Daphne asked, her voice quivering. “So he can dump me because I’m damaged goods?”
“If he loves you he won’t leave you,” Amelia whispered, hugging her daughter.
“And if you love him, you will tell him. He deserves to know now. My sister told her husband the day after your cousin was born. It broke him. She was dead within six months and that man hates his child to this day. Is that what you want for you and Harry?” Cyrus asked softly.
“I… Thank you for the wonderful day,” Daphne said stiffly. She slipped out of her mother’s grasp before they could say anything else. She stopped in the bathroom on her way out, quickly wiping her tears and cleaning her face before joining Harry.
“Everything alright?” Harry asked, helping her slip on her cloak.
Daphne nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet. She took a deep breath, slowly calming down as she exhaled. She hated herself for what she was about to do, but she could see no other choice. She needed an independent opinion and she could think of only other person who could help her.
“They wanted me to stay the night,” Daphne lied, ducking her head to hide her face. She’d confess and take whatever punishment he deemed fit later. “I told them I would.”
“Then why are you out here?” Harry asked, pinching her side gently.
“Harry!” Daphne growled playfully, smacking his hand away. “You heard mum! People think we can’t keep our hands away from each other.”
“People think that because it’s true,” Harry pointed out, sounding completely unbothered.
“I’d rather not add fuel to the fire. Give me your Invisibility Cloak. I’ll walk you to the edge of Hogsmeade.”
“Why do you need my Cloak?”
“So I can slip away if my mother is too insufferable.”
“You’re a strange woman, Daphne Greengrass.”
“And you’re the one dating me, so what does that say about you?”
---
“No hippogriff. I’m beginning to think you and Harry were lying to me.”
Sirius looked up from the small fire he had been tending, his gray eyes twinkling with mirth as he turned his attention to the blonde who had appeared at the entrance to the cave without warning.
“He’s out hunting again. I let him spend the night outside, he gets too antsy cooped up in the cave,” Sirius explained, tossing the stick in his hand to one corner of the cave. “You have spectacularly bad luck.”
“Don’t say that.” Daphne scowled. She stomped over to the roughly hewn stone seat, flopping down on it. It was uneven and uncomfortable, and nothing like the comfort of Harry’s lap. Daphne suddenly realized just how much she had come to rely on her boyfriend. Even the warmth of the fire paled in comparison to the heat of his skin and the steady thump of his heart. “I’m hoping I have good luck. Spectacularly good luck. But knowing me, I’m going to have shit luck and Harry’s going to dump me and-”
“You know, when a boy meets his girlfriend’s parents, it’s usually he who comes out of the meeting terrified.”
Sirius’ quiet chuckle and humor dragged Daphne back to Earth. She replaced fear with anger, reaching out to punch the older man’s shoulder. “You’re a little shit,” she growled.
“It’s a carefully cultivated persona.” Sirius sighed as he took the other stone seat in the cave. He bit into a loaf of bread, chewing on it slowly. “Thank you for the rations you sent with that over-excitable house elf this morning. It’s nice not to have to root in dustbins for scraps.”
“You’re welcome,” Daphne said, stubbornly holding his intense gaze.
“So, what happened? Why are you here and not with your parents or your boyfriend?”
“My parents think I’m with Harry and Harry thinks I’m spending the night with my parents in the Three Broomsticks.”
“Doesn’t answer my question kiddo.” Sirius offered her a toasted marshmallow. Daphne accepted it and bit into it, chewing mournfully.
“You had secrets, right? A man like you, you must have had a bunch of secrets back in school,” Daphne said without context or explanation.
“I did.”
“Even from the ones closest to you?”
Sirius smiled softly. “I think this is a conversation you need to have with Harry.”
“I can’t tell him,” Daphne said, growling in frustration. Why didn’t anyone understand?!
Sure he’d accept her, but that’s just who he was. She’d be a pity case for him, just someone else he rescued. What kind of man wanted a broken and damaged girl as their girlfriend?
“Yes, you can. You love him and we don’t hide important shit from the people we love,” Sirius said calmly.
“Like you never hid something from your precious Marauders or Harry’s mum?” Daphne challenged.
“I said important shit, kid.” Sirius offered her another marshmallow. “Look, we all have secrets. We’re allowed to keep them, even from the person we love. But if this is something that affects you both, something that affects your relationship, something that will come out sooner or later… Harry should know.”
“Because it’s the right thing to do…”
Sirius shook his head. “Fuck that. James and Lily taught me that there is no right or wrong when it comes to love. You came to me because you thought I’d be the best person to help you convince yourself not to tell Harry, right?”
Daphne nodded. Surely he’d understand her predicament? The man had carried the burden of such a heavy secret for nearly two decades.
“What nobody tells you about secrets is that they eat you alive from the inside.” For the first time since she’d met him, he looked his age. She saw a terrible sorrow reflected on his face, the weight of a burden he’d been carrying and would probably carry for the rest of his life.
“If I tell him… everything might change,” Daphne whispered, her voice soft and scared.
“And if you don’t, I can guarantee it will. Because you’ll change. That secret will change you until it defines your relationship. It will destroy your love. Tell him and there’s a chance you can overcome it together.”
“You know what I’m talking about,” Daphne guessed.
“Perceptive girl.” Sirius chuckled, but there was no humor in his voice. “Gods, you remind me of Lily. None of us could keep anything hidden from her for too long.” Sirius leaned back and sighed. “The Greengrass family curse is an open secret in Pureblood circles. When you started talking about a relationship-altering secret… well, that was a dead giveaway.”
“He won’t like me after I tell him,” Daphne said, chewing her lip nervously.
“If I know my godson as well as I do… he won’t care.”
“What if he does?” Daphne asked.
“Then I think he needs to get his head checked because he’d be giving up the best thing that’s ever happened to him over something trivial,” Sirius replied with a reassuring smile. “Don’t keep it from him. He’ll find out one day and when he does… he won’t forgive you. I don’t think he can ever stop loving you, but he won’t be able to forgive that betrayal.”
“Harry doesn’t love me.”
“Sure, you’re just the thing he’d miss the most,” Sirius snorted. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, kid.”
Daphne got to her feet, a small smile on her face. “You know, you can be surprisingly deep.”
“Yeah, well, that is a secret you can keep to yourself. I don’t want it ruining my roguish reputation,” Sirius joked, pulling her into a hug. He smiled when Daphne wrapped her arms around him. He knew there was no way to go back to the good old days when he had all his friends and everything was right in the world. But his life wasn’t over. It had just changed.
“My lips are sealed,” Daphne teased as she pulled away. She walked to the entrance of the cave, waving to him once before wrapping the Invisibility Cloak around herself and making her way back to Hogsmeade.
Instead of going back to the castle she slipped into the back alley behind Twilfitt’s and walked over to Club Black, disturbing the bored receptionist from his all-important task of perusing the evening edition of the Daily Prophet.
Her secret could wait till morning, she decided. She wanted one last night, one night to feel Harry’s touch and his affection before everything went to shit. And she wanted it to be a night she’d never forget.
“The Morgana Suite, please. For the entire night,” Daphne said, her voice trembling slightly. She fished out a fistful of sickles from her money bag and dumped them on the counter.
“Humph.” The man collected the money without looking away from his paper, before sliding a key across the desk.
“Is there any way I can send someone a message?”
“You can use the club owl. Lives in the attic. There’s some pen and paper up there too,” the man muttered disinterestedly. “That’s an extra charge though.”
Daphne dropped a Galleon on the counter. “Does that cover it?”
“Yep.” The man ignored the coin, his face still buried in the paper.
Daphne wondered how he remained afloat with such an arbitrary business policy. She reminded herself that she wasn’t there to teach him how to run his club, grabbed the key, and bounded up the stairs to the attic. A brown barn owl was asleep on his perch but that wasn’t what caught Daphne’s attention.
A gorgeous snowy owl sat in the open window, staring at Daphne with intelligent yellow eyes.
“You knew I’d need you, didn’t you? Harry’s right, you’re bloody intelligent,” Daphne said, smiling at Hedwig.
Hedwig hooted loudly.
“Just give me a second to write down a message.” She walked over to the battered desk in one corner of the room and pulled out the quill from the inkpot, only for Hedwig to fly over and snatch it from her.
“Hey!” Daphne exclaimed, frowning at the agitated owl. “What are you doing?”
Hedwig dropped the quill to the floor and flew over to the window. Daphne followed, her frown growing when she realized Hedwig was staring in the direction of the castle, her hooting growing louder and more insistent with every passing second.
“Is something going on at Hogwarts?”
Hedwig hooted in a way that sounded eerily like ‘yes’.
Daphne turned to the owl. “Is Harry in trouble?!”
Hedwig made the sound again.
Daphne pulled out her wand, her heart thumping in her chest. “Wait for me by the front entrance,” she ordered before bounding down the stairs.
---
London. Next morning:
“Who’re you?!” Vernon Dursley growled, slamming the door to his office shut behind him. His face was red and all he wanted to do was recline in his highly comfortable chair and take a nap until it was time to clock out. The President of the company had made him take a tour of the entire factory floor, an entirely pointless exercise in his mind. They wouldn’t be having problems meeting production quotas if the spineless man had just followed his suggestion and replaced the workers with a new bunch of lazy no-good bums off the street.
He glared at the tall, well-dressed man standing in front of the plants Petunia had forced him to plant on the windowsill of the only window in his office. He hated the blasted things, but she’d said it gave him the look of a well-rounded and caring man. His bosses seemed to approve so he kept the annoying things, replacing them with new ones every time the plants died.
“Listen, man, this is my office. You seem lost, so I’ll give you the opportunity to leave,” Vernon growled, “If you don’t, I’ll have security throw you out.”
“Your guard is taking a well-deserved break,” Cyrus said softly. “He seemed quite delighted at the prospect of a gold coin.”
“Who are you?” Vernon asked again, suddenly afraid. He started to inch back towards the door, only to pause at Cyrus Greengrass’ sinister chuckle.
“A businessman.”
“You’re here on business?” Vernon asked, hope returning to his voice. There was something off about the man caressing his blasted plants, but Vernon Dursley would be damned if he gave up a chance to pad his Christmas bonus.
“You could say that. Please, have a seat.” Cyrus pulled the expensive, black-leather wheeled chair away from Vernon’s cluttered desk and patted the armrest.
“Uh… I’ll stand,” Vernon muttered, tugging at his collar. There was something concerning about the look in the man’s eyes. Something incredibly dangerous. That, combined with the mention of a gold coin sent alarm bells ringing in his head. “What sort of business are you in?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Potions. We sell all sorts but poisons are our specialty,” Cyrus said mildly. He circled around the desk and threw his arm around Vernon’s plump shoulders, gently but firmly guiding him to his chair. “Sit. Please.”
“You’re one of them. You’re… a freak!” Vernon gasped, the sight of his shriveled-up plants finally helping him connect all the pieces.
“Now, now. There’s no need for name-calling is there? We are to be business partners after all.” Cyrus calmly leaned against the wall next to the window, completely undisturbed by Vernon’s outburst. He toyed with the tiny vial in his hand, twirling it between his fingers.
“If you think I’m going to get into-” Vernon growled, only to be cut off by Cyrus’ chuckle. He glared impotently at the tall aristocrat, his face red with rage. The memory of his last encounter with a grown wizard was still fresh in his mind, and he instinctively knew the man in front of him was far more dangerous than the giant who had given his son a pig’s tail all those years ago. So he sat there, stewing in anger, waiting for Cyrus to speak again.
“You know, I have so many wonderful customers,” Cyrus murmured, ignoring Vernon’s outburst. “One particular lady has had five husbands, can you believe it? All of them died under mysterious circumstances. Such a tragedy. But that’s the thing about poisons, Vernon. You have to be very careful with them. One slip and-” Cyrus emptied the rest of the vial on the last remaining living plant on the windowsill. Vernon turned as white as a ghost as he watched the plant immediately shrivel up. “Instant death,” Cyrus finished cheerfully.
“What do you want?” Vernon squeaked, nervously tugging on his collar every few seconds.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be in touch with my demands. My wife is drafting them up as we speak. I look forward to a long and fruitful relationship with you, Vernon.” Cyrus offered his hand, which was ignored. He shrugged and started to walk to the door.
“What’s the frea-” Vernon gulped again when Cyrus paused and turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s the boy got on you?”
“Nothing. The fact that he makes my daughter happier than she’s ever been would have been reason enough but my family owes his a debt that I can never repay. But I plan to try, and this feels like a good place to start, don’t you think?” Cyrus asked with a smirk.
“What, his deranged godfather wasn’t enough, he had to send you after good, respectable people too? Isn’t it enough that we house, clothe, and feed him?” Vernon mumbled, hyperventilating. He grabbed the paperweight on his desk, brandishing it uselessly as a weapon.
“No, no it isn’t. Not the way I suspect you’ve been doing it,” Cyrus replied, rolling of his eyes at the man’s choice of a weapon. If he had it his way he’d have tossed the useless lump of flesh out the window, but the paperwork that would involve would be tedious. And he was in no mood to listen to Dumbledore’s useless moralizing. It was far easier to make sure the greedy pig stayed in line. “Godfather?” Cyrus asked, pausing on his way out the door.
“Yea, that no good mass-murdering psychopath godfather of his,” Vernon mumbled. He was profusely sweating by now, clutching the paperweight with both hands so hard that his knuckles turned white.
“Interesting,” Cyrus murmured, deep in thought. He shelved that titbit of information for later. He shot the drenched man one last truly terrifying smile. A smile that promised a world of pain were his instructions not obeyed. “I’ll be in touch Vernon. Goodnight.”
And with that, he left.
Notes:
We can't have hurt/comfort without some hurt, right? I promise a happy ending for our favorite couple, but there might be some twists and turns along the way! As for that last scene, god I wanted a competent adult in the universe to put Vernon Dursley in his place and Cyrus seemed like the perfect fit for it. Ngl, I look forward to seeing what Amelia Greengrass will do to him. Very few stories do supportive in-laws and it's a shame in my opinion. If it was up to me (and if you'd read it) I'd write one chapter of just Amelia taking Harry shopping and to a healer xD. Let me know if you'd like it?
Comments
R. Collins
Thank you! The story is a joy to write. The new chapter is coming out today and this comment is the perfect inspiration for me to sit down and finish editing it!
R. Collins
Yea, the name thing did not strike me until after I published the chapter and it's too late to change now lol.
Chad
This has to be one if not the best Harry/Daphne stories I have read. Please keep up the great work
R. Collins
Hah, I am a writer with who enjoys the guilty pleasure of writing super fluffy relationships in my stories. Which is what you'll see in all my stories. I don't enjoy writing relationship melodrama at all. All my stories are love stories where it's the ship in an adventure or fighting the big bad. Harry and Daphne won't have pointless fights or melodrama/angst that makes no sense. They love each other as has been established by now!
LT Butterfly287
Thank you, the minute you brought up the possibility of a curse I immediately got that same frustration I usually get because almost everyone just writes some angsty melodramatic crap. I'm just a guy who likes reading fanfiction and loves a relationship in fanfiction with amazing fluff and a side dish of lemons as a guilty pleasure to escape the bullshit of being a working adult.
R. Collins
I totally agree. Which is why I'm not going to use that trope for drama at all. There won't be Daphne 'breaking up' with Harry or chapters about how she's 'dying' or something else that's just there for pointless drama and angst. I plan to use it for fluff and to bring them closer to each other. Can guarantee it won't affect their relationship, won't cause excessive angst and they're going to get a happy ending with a family of their own. You'll like my take on the curse, I can pretty much say that with certainty! Oh, and if you like this story check out Fantastic Boyfriends and How To Find Them, you'll love that too!
LT Butterfly287
I love the story but one thing I've always hated in the community is the Greengrass blood curse. It's stupid and became popular because of some angst writer wanted to write excessive drama a little over a decade ago and some how the trop has stayed strong to this day. It's personally not something I'll ever like cause drama can be good in small doses but most writers when using the blood curse only do drama.
Erinnyes
Absolutely love the chapter. The feelings were real and the drama hit home without dragging on needlessly, and using Sirius as the voice of reason was just fun. Daphne's parents were also great. You did a wonderful job on their personalities. My only complaint is actually about Mrs. Greengrass' first name, every time I read it I think she's Amelia Bones. I would happily read a chapter dedicated to she and Harry getting to know each other, and honestly I think it could be really positive for character development. The scene with Vernon was lovely. It's what canon should have done by book four.
R. Collins
They don't know yet tbh. They'll have their happy ending together, this will just make Harry more protective of her.
R. Collins
I really need more people to appreciate Slytherins as more than generic baddies. Lol
LordWhiteWalker
Wait so Daphne has the blood curse?
R. Collins
Ooh, I have a plan, don't worry, Harry and Daphne will get to have kids of their own without the curse hanging over their heads. The hurt will lead to comfort, and finally to fluff and a happy ending!
Robert
I hope there is a way for Harry to nullify the curse by the end of the story. Harry’s desire for family is such a major trait of his that I don’t want to see adoption as the route. They should be able to have their happy ever after with a child of their own. That’s what would make the hurt aspect of this worth it.
tornadoboy
Yaay Greengrass parents. And sounds like they're taking a more active role in the story too! Your stuff with them is some of your best writing. I absolutely adore Amelia and Cyrus. And Cyrus is such a wonderful Slytherin in this chapter. In the best ways!
