The Power He Knows Not Chapter 8.

Update: You may have noticed a couple of changes. I finally got around to getting a cool picture that is as nice as my header and didn't look like a two minute Paint job. As for the name change, some have been a tad bit confused that I'm more than one person. Which I get, given the name, the 'are creating', and the variety of stuff that I write. But, nope, it's just me. I just have the range to write from cute and fluffy to hardcore smutty to (as this chapter will show) very angsty. 

Content Warnings: Nothing.

“What?” Harry asked defensively, looking at the small smile on Susan’s face. Daphne was curled up in his lap, fast asleep.

Her little snores are adorable.

“Stop,” Harry mumbled to himself, his cheeks turning pink.

“You know,” Susan said, trying her best to mimic Professor Dumbledore’s deep voice, “talking to yourself is a sign of madness. So is proclaiming your intense dislike for someone, only to have her curled up in your lap clutching you like a koala within hours,” Susan teased. She picked up her cup of steaming tea, a perfect antidote to the chill permeating through the grounds and the castle.

“I never said I disliked her,” Harry said defensively. He cradled Daphne’s head carefully in one arm, reaching out for a cup with his free hand. He turned slightly to face the fire, to warm both his cold feet and the shivering blonde. He looked down at her in concern. Her lips were pursed, and she had a frown on her face.

Why did that creep affect her so badly?

He pulled Daphne deeper into the warmth and protection of his chest, smiling as he felt some of the tension leave her muscles.

“You thought she was going to backstab you,” Susan said, grinning at the way he was treating their new girlfriend. They hadn’t made anything official, but she could already see the beginnings of a bond that hinted at being just as strong as the one she and Harry shared. “Now, you’ll probably fight the castle to protect her if you have to.”

“She needed our help.”

“Aye,” Susan said, bringing the cup up to her lips. “That she did.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s the deal with Karkaroff?”

“Creeps like him only understand one language, Harry,” Susan said, her voice growing guarded.

“There’s no denying that he’s a massive creep, but there was more to it. I don’t know what he’s done to Daphne, but you were ready to blow his head off even if he hadn’t tried to grab her,” Harry pointed out. When she stayed silent, he sighed, “You don’t have to tell me Susie, but he’s going to be around us all year considering that I’m a champion and he’s a judge. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. I didn’t even know the two of you knew each other.”

“I’ve seen him just once before, in my life. I… I don’t know how I even remember it. I was six years old. I guess it is one of those trauma things. My brain won’t let me forget, because the knowledge just might save my life,” Susan mumbled, fighting back tears.

“Susie. Darling. Come here,” Harry ordered, patting his thighs. Susan nodded silently, slipping out of the chair and sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the fireplace, leaning against Harry’s legs. She closed her eyes when he began to pull her hair free from its braid, knowing he was going to do something they rarely got to do, but was also something she really enjoyed. “Dobby?” Harry called out, smiling as the happy house elf bounded up to them.

“Yes sir Harry Potter sir?”

“Can I get some warm hair oil? Lavender scented, if possible,” Harry requested. He chuckled as he watched the elf bounce away. Dobby returned within seconds, holding a warm porcelain bowl full of oil.

“Thank you Dobby,” Harry murmured. Throughout it all, Susan had stayed silent and unmoving, trying to fight the demons of her past that threatened to overwhelm her. Harry gently slipped down to the rug himself, Daphne carefully wrapped in his arms to ensure she did not fall. He laid her down on the thick rug, letting her lean into his side, her legs resting against his and Susan’s, who he had now pulled into his lap.

“Did he… when you…” Harry asked, dreading the answer.

“No. Auntie was overseeing a trial. His trial,” Susan murmured, her voice quaking. The gentle dribble of the warm oil into her hair and the subsequent pressure of his fingers as he massaged her scalp were the only things that kept her from spiralling.

“What was he on trial for, darling?” Harry asked. He had an inkling where this was going, and if his hunch was right, he was going to murder the bastard once he found a secluded enough space.

“I could spend all day listing his crimes.” Susan laughed bitterly. She had spent entire days pouring over the court transcripts of each and every one of her parents’ murderers who got away, desperately trying to search for anything the Aurors or prosecutors might have missed that could be used to put them away. It was an exercise in futility, but hope springs eternal. “The parchment was three feet long. Among the listed crimes… the murder of Terence and Cornelia Bones,” Susan mumbled tearily. She angrily wiped her freckled cheeks.

“How did he get away?”

“Guess how?” Susan growled.

“He’s close friends with Malfoy. Very close friends,” a soft voice spoke up. Daphne pulled away from Harry, her cheeks a dark red. “I apologize. I don’t know what came over me. I can understand if you don’t-”

She was cut off by Harry wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a group hug with him and Susan. “You alright?”

“I will be,” Daphne whispered, her eyes wide in surprise. So far, no part of the whole ‘courting’ thing had gone to plan. “He’s an utter scumbag, but I can usually keep myself under check. Running into him today, of all days… it was just a bit too much.”

“What’s today?” Susan asked softly. Focusing on helping someone else helped. It was a distraction, an escape from her own grief.

“I… I don’t think it’s appropriate. I’ve already been far too improper with both of you,” Daphne said, adopting a formal tone.

“I threatened to blow a man’s head off for you, Daphne. I think ‘proper’ has long since been tossed out the window.”.

Daphne turned to Harry, her worried eyes searching his face for signs of anger or disapproval. He was her one chance. Her only chance.

“My entire life in one big contradiction, Daphne,” Harry replied with a shrug. “I honestly don’t care what’s supposed to be appropriate, and what isn’t.”

“It’s true. He just makes up the rules as he goes along. It’s honestly a nightmare, being his girlfriend,” Susan teased, reaching out to gently squeeze Daphne’s hand.

“Uhm…” Daphne grabbed the edge of her tattered sweater, rubbing the soft wool between her thumb and index finger for comfort. “Yesterday was… Yesterday was the three-month anniversary of my mother’s death,” Daphne said softly, her eyes fixed on the rug they were sitting on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Susan whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. All three of them had lost at least one parent. Perhaps this was what had drawn her to Daphne, a subconscious feeling of shared grief. She slipped off Harry’s lap, gently elbowing her boyfriend and nodding at the quietly sobbing Daphne.

Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest as she finally broke down. He rubbed her back reassuringly as she cried into his cardigan, gently rocking her.

“H-he was there. So was… Malfoy,” Daphne got out in-between sobs. “Insincere pricks, the whole lot of them. My mother wasn’t even in… in the ground,” she hiccuped, burrowing deeper into Harry’s chest. “Malfoy had the gall to offer to take me and my sister off my father’s hands as we buried our mother.”

“I’m so sorry, love,” Harry whispered, cradling the inconsolable girl. What else could he do? He and Susan at least had the slight mercy of losing their parents when they were young. He remembered nothing about his mother, a fact which had blunted the loss somewhat. He couldn’t even imagine what Daphne had been going through.

“K-Karkaroff called my mother a bloody disappointment. Couldn’t even give the Greengrass family a male heir before dying.” She was shaking violently, every bad memory from that horrible day flashing through her mind. “H-he told me to be a good girl and spread my legs for Draco and give him a child before the curse took me. They didn’t even let me say goodbye to my mother in peace,” Daphne snarled, pulling away from Harry and angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks. Displays of weakness got you killed. If nothing else, she had learned that much in Slytherin.

And Harry Potter didn’t want a sniveling girl who was of no use to him. She had demonstrated her value, but if she expected to stay by his side, she’d need to keep being useful. She was well aware of that fact.

Her eyes widened in surprise when Harry gently pushed her hands away, his thumbs running over her alabaster cheeks, capturing tears that did not seem to want to stop. Susan had taken her hand and was tracing circles on her palm with her finger, all with the aim of letting her know she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

“Curse?” Harry asked gently.

“The Greengrass family curse. It’s a blood curse that affects some of the females of the family. We don’t know until we have our first child,” Daphne explained quietly. She wasn’t sure why she was spilling family secrets to two people who were little more than strangers, but the emotional toll of the past two days, of what Draco was doing to her, of looking at Karkaroff every damned day had broken her. She was tired. All she wanted was to lay her head down somewhere and not wake up for a very long time. “But if we have it, we start wasting away. Ten years… Twenty years, it varies from person to person. But there is no cure, and the curse takes our life in the end.”

“Your mother had it?” Susan asked, dreading the answer.

“Cyrus Weber met Irelia Greengrass while they were both in Hogwarts. They married for love, which was bloody unheard in Pureblood circles at the time. He took her name, they managed her family business together and would have lived happily ever after if her daughter hadn’t killed her,” Daphne said bitterly.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Harry said firmly.

“I triggered the curse, Harry. I’m the firstborn,” Daphne said flatly. “I killed my mother. I’m sorry for wasting your time by acting like I’m suitable for you. I’ll write up an essay on the dragons for you. Thank you for being open-minded enough to consider courting me,” Daphne said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She pulled her hand free from Susan’s grasp and climbed off Harry’s lap, getting up on unsteady feet.

“Miss Greengrass,” Harry called out, his voice low and full of authority.

Daphne froze. “Yes, sir?” she asked, slowly turning in place to face the couple. She blushed at the small smile on Susan’s face. She wondered if he used that voice with her in the bedroom, then immediately stopped her mind from diving deeper into the gutter. They already looked at her like she was a broken little girl, she didn’t need them to think of her as a nutcase by accidentally sharing her perverted desires with them.

But if there ever was someone who was the perfect ‘Daddy’ material… she mused, looking at Harry. The intensity in his sparkling green eyes made her heart skip a beat.

It’s just hormones, she reminded herself. The maelstrom of emotions, from grief, to anger, to unbridled lust was giving her a headache.  I need to stop acting like I’ve met my soulmate.

“You weren’t dismissed,” Harry said shortly, slipping into his dominant persona subconsciously. It was what Daphne needed. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he was certain of it. “Sit.”

“Sorry, sir,” Daphne mumbled, wiping away a stray tear before kneeling next to him.

“I decide who is suitable for me, and who isn’t. Do you understand?”

Daphne nodded, trying to ignore her heartbeat speeding up. She squeaked when Harry grabbed her arm, pulling her into his lap once more.

“And neither Malfoy nor Karkaroff will ever have power over you,” Susan whispered, leaning up to peck Daphne’s cheek. She wondered why her father hadn’t simply told Malfoy to get fucked. By the looks of it, he had presumably told Daphne to find a suitable partner before he rejected Malfoy’s offer. Grief often makes people irrational, she reminded herself.

“But I’m broken,” Daphne mumbled, not sure why they were so accepting of her, even after knowing everything. Her icy persona had been crafted by her for a singular purpose. To protect her secrets, and to survive in the nest of vipers that was her House. “I’m weak.”

“Join the club,” Harry whispered, cupping her cheeks. He pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And no girl who willingly walks towards a dragon is weak. The jury is still out on if you’re utterly mad, but you’re not weak, Daph,” Harry murmured, drawing her into his chest for a hug.

“It’s getting late,” Daphne said after what felt like an eternity. She didn’t want to leave the warm cocoon of Harry’s embrace, but she hadn’t slept for thirty-six hours and could feel her eyelids getting heavy again. “After midnight there’s a high probability of running into Malfoy fucking Parkinson on one of the couches, and that’s not a sight I ever want to see again,” Daphne said, reluctantly pulling away.

“He… Why?” Susan asked, gagging. “They’re in the same House, why not just use his bed?”

“I don’t know, and I’m not going to ask.”

“Fair,” Harry chuckled, grabbing Daphne’s wrist and preventing her from getting up. “But you’re not going back to your dormitory tonight.” He was worried about her.

It will be better if she sleeps with us tonight, he decided.

“I need sleep, Da...Dharry,” Daphne said, turning crimson as she corrected herself. She coughed, hoping he’d peg her botching his name to an itchy throat. If he kept looking at her like he was, she was going to accidentally call him Daddy and then all hell would break loose. Better to beat a hasty retreat.

“We all do. And we will get some,” Harry said calmly.

“Harry, even if you make two trips to smuggle both of us to your dormitory, there’s no way all three of us fit in your bed,” Susan pointed out.

“We could sleep here?”

“I don’t think I can sleep with five hundred sets of eyes on me,” Susan said, looking around at the house elves bustling around in the kitchen.

“The Astronomy Tower?”

“With our luck, it's already been occupied by an amorous couple for the night.”

Daphne stayed silent throughout the exchange, extremely aware of Harry’s thumb slowly pushing between her lips. She was spending all her energy and willpower in stopping herself from drawing the digit into her mouth and sucking on it.

“I is sorry, Harry Potter sir. I is standing arounds, waiting if you need somethings, and I hears you talk!” Dobby said, bounding back towards them. “I knows a place where you and mistresses can sleep, Harry Potter sir! The Come and Go Room!”

“The what and what room?” Susan asked.

Harry shrugged. “I have no idea where that is, Dobby.”

“Dobby will take you! It has bed! Big, nice comfy bed. And anything else Harry Potter sir and mistresses want!” Dobby said, extending his bony hands towards Susan and Harry.

Harry looked at Susan, who nodded after a minute. “Alright, Dobby. We’ll take a look at this… Come and Go Room,” Harry said. Both he and Susan grasped one of Dobby’s hands, and he clutched Daphne tighter as he felt a tug in his navel.

They landed on the rough stone floor of the seventh-floor corridor. Daphne’s fall was cushioned by Harry, but Susan wasn’t as lucky. She groaned as she landed on her already sore butt.

“A little warning next time, please, Dobby?” Harry mumbled, trying his best not to retch. Dobby vanishing in thin air didn’t feel quite as impressive now that he knew how uncomfortable the process was.

“I is sorry, Harry Potter sir,” Dobby said, rushing to slam his head into a wall, only to be pinned in place by Harry grabbing his tea cosy.

“It’s fine, Dobby. You don’t have to punish yourself.”

“Harry Potter sir is as kind as he is powerful. He is truly a great wizard!” Dobby exclaimed, his eyes brimming with tears. Harry was saved from being praised further by Daphne getting to her feet and slowly walking to the end of the deserted corridor.

“I’ve been here a hundred times. There’s nothing here except a really cool tapestry of Barnabas, Dobby,” Daphne murmured, running her hand along the smooth stone wall.

“There is! There is!” Dobby ran up to the wall. Harry and Susan followed him dubiously. Harry knew Dobby always had the best of intentions, but his particular brand of aid wasn’t always the most… helpful. “You has to think for what you wants three times!”

“I-” Harry looked at Susan, then at Daphne, both of whom shrugged in confusion.

“We wants a nice bedroom for Harry Potter sir. We wants a nice bedroom for Harry Potter sir. We wants a nice bedroom for Harry Potter sir,” Dobby chanted.

Harry’s eyes grew wider as a wooden door appeared on the wall. Dobby grasped the doorknob, pushed it open, and walked into a room that was indeed a nice bedroom. It was a large room, dominated by an enormous bed in its very center. There were two nightstands arranged on either side of the bed. A vanity and dressing table were set against one wall, complete with a floor-to-ceiling mirror. The room was dimly illuminated by candles floating in the air, and by the fire roaring merrily in the ornate fireplace, flooding the place with light and warmth.

“Thank you, Dobby,” Harry said, giving the diminutive elf a grateful smile.

“I’m glad to be of help, Harry Potter sir!” Dobby bowed, then with a crack of his fingers, disappeared once more.

“So, uhm… How are we doing this?” Daphne asked awkwardly. There was only one bed, which, while it was large enough to accommodate them all, did mean there was the distinct possibility of parts bumping and brushing against each other.

“I’ll take the middle,” Susan answered with a shrug. She pulled the hoodie up her head, neatly folding it and keeping it on one of the nightstands. She removed her shoes and socks, stacking them in a corner of the room before jumping onto the bed and sinking into the soft mattress. “You know, I might just move out of my dormitory and move in here,” she teased, watching Harry and Daphne mimic her actions. Once they were as suitably dressed for bed as they could be, Harry climbed in from her right, and Daphne slowly followed suit, slipping into the empty space on her left.

“Goodnight, darling,” Harry whispered, kissing Susan softly, his arm wrapping around her and coming to rest on Daphne. “Goodnight, Daphne.”

“Goodnight dearest,” Susan whispered, snuggling into him. She pulled Daphne closer until all three of them were basically cuddling. She smiled as Harry pulled the thick blanket up to cover them.

Despite the night they’d had, life, she decided, was on the up and up.

                                                            ---

Daphne Greengrass was having a very pleasant dream.

She and Daddy had decided to sleep in, and he had woken her up by pressing his rather impressive morning wood against her firm bum.

“Do you sleep with your wand, or are you just happy to see me?” she teased sleepily. She gasped and giggled when he groggily clambered on top of her, his hands moving to grab her wrists and pin them against the soft black satin sheets of their bed.

“What do you think?” Harry growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“I think you are very happy to see me,” Daphne mumbled, spreading her legs to allow the hand he had pushed underneath her skirt entry between her thighs. “Although-” Her words died in her throat when his lips wrapped around the pulse point of her neck, his teeth sinking into her unblemished creamy skin. She cried out, her back arching as a dull ache spread through her neck, her lover leaving a massive hickey on her skin before moving lower.

Harry’s fingers were now pushing her knickers to one side, the tips ghosting over her wet slit. “Mine,” he growled, gently pushing a finger into her tight, virgin cunt.

Daphne wholeheartedly agreed. Harry Potter would be her first. And her last.

And every time in between, she thought giddily.

“Y-yes daddy,” Daphne whispered, moaning softly as his thumb ghosted over her clit.

“Daddy? That’s a new one Susie,” Harry murmured.

It was at that moment that Daphne realized two things.

She wasn’t dreaming.

Harry was half-asleep, didn’t have his glasses, and thought she was Susan.

She shot up, the blanket falling off them. Harry, only half-conscious, was taken by surprise by her action and rolled off her, sliding down the silky sheets and falling to the floor with a quiet groan.

Daphne looked around the room wildly, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of Susan sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, nibbling on a muffin and watching them.

“I… Susan… I-I swear I thought I was dreaming. Harry thought I was you. I promise I didn’t mean…” The words died out in her throat as her drowsy brain registered the amused expression on the redhead’s face. “You’re not upset?”

“Well, I bloody am now!” Susan growled playfully. “You two were just getting to the good part!” She turned to look at Harry, splayed out on the floor beside the bed, quietly massaging his temples. “But now that princess and her daddy have finally decided it’s time to get out of bed, both of you should shower.” She pointed to a door beside the vanity that had not been there when they’d gone to bed. “We’re already running late for class, so I went down to the Great Hall and grabbed us all some food. I even asked Dobby to fetch our uniforms. Muffin?” She asked, her eyes twinkling playfully as she extended the box towards Harry.

Notes:

A lil angst in a story never hurt anybody now, did it?