58

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT:

Severus and Harry were mulling over their thoughts in silence, still wrapped in an embrace when a loud knocking noise echoed through the quarters.

"One of my snakes needs me," Severus immediately straightened, giving Harry an apologetic kiss as he pushed the man upright.

"I'll just stay here, shall I?"

"That would perhaps be for the best," Severus agreed wryly. "Considering this morning's Prophet, I think we can assume that it will be one of the Death Eater children seeking counsel. Perhaps Draco seeking advice on whether to join the Black family alongside his mother," he rolled his eyes. "As if the boy has a choice."

A low chuckle followed him as he swept out the door, heading directly for his office. It was connected to the Potions classroom, but had a separate door somewhat out of the way, upon which his students could knock should they need him. The sound would echo in his private quarters – he was rarely in his office, after all – or in the Potions classroom.

Rounding the corner, he stopped in surprise. "Miss Greengrass?"

The girl turned jerkily, and it took him but a moment to realize that his student was close to tears. Her entire frame was quivering, her arms wrapped around herself and her expression as torn as he had ever witnessed on one of his snakes' faces. Knowing that this was something best discussed in a private and safe location, he gestured for her to follow him, silently leading the way back to his quarters.

"Miss Greengrass and I require entrance," he informed Medusa lowly, hoping that the snake would echo his words and warn Harry. When the statue slid aside however he realized that his warning hadn't been echoed.

"Back already?" Harry called out, leaning back to look at the entrance. "I guess it wasn't Draco, then, huh?" His chuckles tapered off when he caught sight of the student behind his lover.

"Oh. Sorry. I'll just, uh, go somewhere else then, shall I?"

"It is up to Miss Greengrass," Severus said levelly, smirking at Harry's lack of composure. "However, you could procure us a cup of tea."

"Sure," Harry's lips twitched as he stood, brushing off invisible lint from his pants. Severus suddenly wondered how the man felt, having both his current and previous lover in the same room. Especially when the one didn't even know him yet.

"Please, have a seat," Severus said to his teenage companion. "Lord Potter-Black will get out of our hair as soon as we have a warm drink in our hands, I assure you."

"Lord Potter-Black?" his lover's voice drifted over from the small kitchen. "God, that sounds terrible coming from you. Can't you just call me Harry as usual?"

"It may have escaped your notice," Severus said drily, "but I am currently acting in my role of Head of House. Formality is expected."

They heard a sigh, then the young man reappeared, a tea set levitated before him. "Yeah, well, you know how I feel about formality," Harry grinned wryly at him, then looked at the silent student and shrugged. "Anyhow," he carefully placed the tea set on the table, "I'll just go into another room, then. Feel free to use privacy charms if you want."

The other two watched the young man turn and head towards the bedroom, parchment and a book in hand. Then:

"Lord Potter-Black?"

Harry froze as if struck – but for just a second before he turned smoothly. Severus doubted that Miss Greengrass had noticed, but he knew how hard it must be for Harry to hear his dead wife's voice once more. That she was using his formal title probably simply added to the hurt.

"I-" Daphne hesitated, unsure how to phrase the question she needed to ask. Deciding that a former Gryffindor would surely miss her lack of subtlety, she asked quietly, "Are my parents on the list of Death Eaters?"

Harry's face didn't change, but suddenly Severus had a feeling of deep sadness. "They are."

"They're not guilty!" Daphne exclaimed desperately, pushing herself to her feet and looking at him helplessly. "They're not!"

"Daphne," Harry said in an even voice, and the use of her first name stopped the girl cold. "The Ministry can't know that for sure until the day of the trial – but if it reassures you at all, I don't believe them to be true Death Eaters either. If they receive any sentence for the simple crime of carrying Voldemort's," she flinched, "brand, then it should be a minor one; and I assure you that I will personally ensure that no child is in need while their parents are incapable of caring for them."

"What do you mean?" Daphne asked warily, trying to hide the apprehension she felt at being at the mercy of a man she knew nothing about. Somehow Harry knew not to step any closer.

"I will be opening a… well, a sort of orphanage, if you will," at her shudder he nodded wryly, "Yes, it needs a better term, doesn't it? At any rate, it'll be a place for the children of Death Eaters who were incarcerated, either for the short-term or the long one. Each child will have a trust fund at Gringotts that only they and I can access, and each child will have their Hogwarts tuition paid. Younger children will potentially have tutors, as will the older children during holidays, if they feel like studying more." He chuckled slightly, knowing that holiday tutors would appeal to Daphne, but perhaps not so much to other children. "I will be the head of the home, and Narcissa Black will be the main person in charge. There will also be a Muggleborn or squib – I need to find one asap, since the trials will be starting tomorrow," he said in an aside to Severus, "and all the children will learn about Muggle culture," he continued. "No need to let old prejudices run rampant blindly; if someone decides to continue to hate Muggles even once they know all about them, then it's their own choice, but hate bred of ignorance should have no place in this society."

"What about the Death Eaters who are innocent?" Daphne insisted, her demeanor far more controlled than before. "Will the Ministry take our hard-earned money?" Harry could tell how incensed the thought made her, and sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

"No, er, I'm afraid that I, well…" he trailed off and shot Severus a pleading look.

"He is attempting to say that he claimed the vaults and possessions of all Death Eaters by right of conquest upon Voldemort's death," Severus said drily. "There really is no need to feel so guilty over it, Harry," he stated as he rose. "It was a sound strategy. Would you have left the Malfoys with all their wealth?" he pinned his student with a sharp gaze as she opened her mouth to protest, and she snapped it shut. "Your parents, should they go free, will be given a choice. Lose all their money and possessions… or agree to learn about the Muggle world."

He gave her a moment for that to sink in, then said agreeably, "An easy choice, is it not? Learn a bit of culture, a bit of history, and you can continue to live as you had before-"

Harry cleared his throat slightly, and smiled sheepishly when Severus interrupted himself. "Well, not quite as before… I mean, can you imagine giving the Parkinsons back everything they had? They're nearly as rich as the Malfoys, and that's saying something! I was thinking of giving each Death Eater, once they're declared innocent or released from Azkaban, the same amount of money. Each family can choose one of their properties to live in – of which I assume almost all to choose their current home – and I would pay a monthly sum into the new vaults. The sum would be one high enough to live on, obviously, but one that encourages the person to get a paying job."

"But my parents have a job!" Daphne exclaimed, looking worried. "If people know that they were marked as Death Eaters, then nobody will buy anything, and we'll have no business!"

"Yeah," Harry grimaced, "that's the only problem I have with the trials being public. I haven't quite figured out yet how to deal with that…"

"Miss Greengrass. Sit." Severus ordered, seeing that she was close to losing control of her temper. "Come join us, Harry," he said as he sank back into his armchair. Once they were all seated, he turned to his student. "Your parents are traders, are they not? Merchants?"

"Yes, sir," Daphne answered warily, not sure where this would go.

"What do they sell?"

"Mainly magical wood, thread, cloth, and other things needed to create magical items, sir," she replied promptly.

"And they are good at it?" She bristled at the inquiry.

"Several tailors only accept fabric from them, and Ollivander gets many of the wooden blanks for his wands from my parents!" she informed her professor indignantly.

"Then I would not worry," Severus brushed off her concern. "Ollivander does what he wants, anyhow, and a good word from Lord Potter-Black or Minister Bones is all that will be needed to reassure other customers that there is nothing illegal or even morally wrong with purchasing items from the Greengrass business. And I assure you that unless something unexpected happens during their trials, the Minister will be happy to put in a good word for them. The objective is not to hurt hardworking citizens, after all – it is to ensure peace." At her unsure look he sighed. "You have my word that you and your sister, at least, will not suffer due to the upcoming trials."

"Thank you, Professor," she said quietly, bowing her head.

Severus gave her a moment before saying briskly, "Now I believe it is nearly curfew, and past time for you to return to the Slytherin dorms. Do you require company?" At her immediate negation he inclined his head. "Then I wish you a good night. Do not forget about the essay due on Friday."

"No, sir. Good night." With that she left, Harry following the sight of her dirty blond hair until she stepped out of sight. Then he sighed, meeting Severus's eyes with a wry smile.

"I think I'm about ready for bed," he said, getting to his feet and turning slightly towards the bedroom. "Are you going to stay up a bit longer?"

"I believe I will join you," Severus stood as well and walked over to his shorter lover. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, reaching out a hand to stroke Harry's hair back out of his eyes. "It cannot have been easy to sit with your former wife…"

"No," Harry smiled sadly, moving in for a hug. "But that wasn't my wife. Daphne Potter-Black was a very different person from the teenager you know, Severus."

"I do not doubt it," he replied, "and yet in your timeline you began dating her not long from now."

"Not long in terms of time, perhaps…" Harry conceded. "But much longer in terms of experience. I was never able to hear her speak about her parents in present tense."

"I see," Severus said, and he did. Losing one's parents could profoundly change a person, especially when they were as young as Daphne Greengrass. It was entirely possible that this Daphne would never be the Daphne Harry had loved.

"Come," he said lowly, drawing Harry towards the bedroom. She may not love you, but I will.