Power Plays Chapter 33 (Patreon)

“Greengrass Manor.”

The fireplace in front of Harry roared as it came to life. The flickering flames danced in a hypnotic pattern for several moments until they stilled and an image of Daphne’s face appeared in them. Her face was alight with joy, her lips curling upwards in a smile that Harry dreamt of every night.

“Finally!” Daphne exclaimed. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“It’s been a couple of days,” Harry chuckled.

“Sooooo loooong,” Daphne stretched the words out for emphasis, but her voice cracked at the end when she let out a little laugh of her own.

“You’re in a good mood,” Harry pointed out.

Daphne smiled coyly at him. “I suppose so.”

“You didn’t find a younger lover to keep you company while I’m away, did you?” Harry asked jokingly.

“No,” Daphne snorted with amusement. “But I did cause a bit of a headache for your Auror Department.”

“Oh, right, your favourite thing,” Harry shook his head. “Did you finally lose your temper and curse someone in the Wizengamot session today?”

“I didn’t have to; Julian Oakes did it for me,” Daphne replied smugly.

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. Julian was a member of one of the formerly neutral factions in the Wizengamot that had been controlled by Cyrus Greengrass until Daphne deposed him. Since then, the members of the neutral faction split, and Julian aligned himself with the dark-aligned, ‘traditionalist’ group—the most recent fancy name for pure-blood supremacists—under Rhys Orpington. 

“And how did that come about?” He asked her curiously.

“When I was at my afternoon tea in Diagon Alley with a few noble ladies, Cecilia Macmillan mentioned that she overheard her daughter talking on the floo. Apparently, Seline Oakes came incredibly close to getting caught sneaking out of Archie Selwyn’s manor by the man’s wife,” Daphne grinned. 

Harry whistled lowly. “And I take it that Oakes didn’t know that his daughter had been fucking his colleague?”

“Nope,” Daphne replied smoothly.

“Let me guess: you took it upon yourself to inform him?”

Daphne’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I did no such thing,” she protested lightly. “All I did was make sure that Cecilia repeated the story a bit louder so that the women at the next table overheard everything. Felicity Cranshaw was there, and everyone knows how much of a gossip she is. By the end of the hour, I’m sure that half of the Ministry knew about Seline and Archie’s trysts. Needless to say, some poor soul told Julian about what his daughter was up to, and he stormed right into Archie’s office and battered him something good. One of Archie’s assistants tried to break up the fight, and it only got worse from there. Last I heard, all of them were in St Mungo’s recovering from spell damage. Your Aurors are guarding all of the rooms, and an investigation has been ordered at the Ministry.”

“Ah, then I take it your happy mood is because you popped a bottle of champagne right after work to celebrate yet another mess you’ve caused?” Harry questioned her, unable to hide his amusement at the situation.

“Maybe,” Daphne said just as coyly as before, but again her laughter betrayed her. “Alright, you caught me, but I’ve got to celebrate sometimes. You don’t know how hard it is trying to keep the Wizengamot under control when so many of them keep falling under Rhys’s sway. I swear that that man must be the most persuasive bastard alive or he’s got so much dirt on half of the Wizengamot that they can’t dare go against his will.”

“Are the traditionalists still giving you trouble?” Harry asked her.

“More like they’re giving you and the Minister trouble,” Daphne corrected him. “They’re pissed that the Minister sent you to France without consulting them first, and there are still rumours circulating that they’re looking for another way to get him out of office. And if Kingsley falls…”

Then there’d be no one left to protect him. The new Minister would be sure to oust Harry from his position if he had any leanings towards the pure-blood cause, and then all of Harry’s years of work gaining political power would be for nothing. Like it or not, his fate was tied to Kingsley’s… for now.

“Well, keep up the good work,” Harry sighed.

Daphne snapped off a crisp salute. “Yes, Head Auror Potter, sir.” She devolved into a fit of laughter, making her face flicker in the fire as she rocked from side to side.

Harry shook his head and laughed quietly along with her. It was good that she was blowing off some steam however she could; Wizengamot politics were more than he could handle, and Daphne was under a tremendous amount of stress as she tried to reform her family’s name and influence while simultaneously helping Harry out in any way possible.

When Daphne finally settled down, her image in the flames stabilised again. “So, tell me, how’s France treating you?”

“I’m sure you read the article all about it in the Daily Prophet,” Harry replied.

“I did,” Daphne agreed. “But tell me about it anyway. I just want to listen to your voice for a while.”

Harry smiled at her. “Well, the attack was pretty messy but amateurish. A little over thirty people died, including two French Aurors who were trapped in a room as the roof caved in on them. A lot of the buildings in Place Cachée were ruined and rebuilding efforts are already underway. Luckily, it seems like the attacks weren’t planned out too well; none of the key infrastructure or magical underpinnings of the buildings were damaged in any significant way.”

“So a few days of reconstruction before things are as normal then?” Daphne asked curiously.

“It’ll be at least a week,” Harry corrected her. “There’s a memorial service planned in a few days' time, and the shops won’t open until after then at the earliest.”

“Anything else interesting happen when you stopped the attack?” Daphne asked a little too innocently.

Harry knew what she was fishing for, and he wasn’t going to hide it from her. “Your dad wasn’t there,” he said bluntly. “And so far, no one in captivity has said anything about him.”

He didn’t know if that was what Daphne wanted to hear or not. She said that she wanted her father dead, but he knew that there was still some part of her that cared for her father even after everything he’d done. At the very least, her feelings towards him were complicated.

Daphne just nodded her head, masking her true feelings as she often did. She wasn’t always forthcoming with them, and often it wasn’t until she’d taken the time to process them by herself before she’d speak to him about them.

“Was there anything else interesting?” She asked, pushing the conversation along normally as though what Harry had said hadn’t affected her.

“I met an old acquaintance there,” Harry began as a small smile came to his lips. “I think she’s a big fan of mine, actually.”

“Oh?” Daphne leaned in closer with a curious glint in her eyes. “Go on then.”

“Gabrielle Delacour,” Harry said. He knew that Daphne didn’t know her, but she did know Gabrielle’s older sister, Fleur, from the Triwizard Tournament. “She’s an Auror now working for her dad, and I ended up teaming up with her on the mission. She made her feelings for me quite clear.”

“Let me guess: she wants to pin you down and shag you until one of you passes out?” Daphne chuckled.

“That’s pretty much what I gathered,” Harry replied. “I’m supposed to go over for supper at the Delacour house soon, and she’ll be there.”

“If you’re asking my permission to fuck her, Harry, you already know how I feel about it,” Daphne told him. “You’re welcome to fuck her silly if that’s what you want, and if you ever wanted to bring her home for a threesome…”

“I’ll let her know the offer is open,” Harry laughed.

“Brilliant,” Daphne grinned at him. “I hope you have a fun time tonight.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled at her. “I love you, Daphne.”

“I love you too,” she said before blowing him a kiss. Then, her face disappeared from the flames.

Harry stood up and stretched out his legs in his office. Sebastian had been kind enough to set him and his two Senior Aurors up with their own private offices to work out of here in the French Ministry. It was in a quiet corridor off of the main atrium-like room that hosted the desks of the non-Senior Aurors. The rest of Harry’s Aurors had been given a large room to work out of, and it was set up much like the atrium with desks for each of them.

Everyone had been putting in a lot of time in their offices. Each Auror had to write up reports about the Death Eater attack that took place at Place Cachée, what they saw, what they did, and so on and so forth in accordance with regulations. Harry then had to review each of their reports and sign off on them before sending them back to England, where they would be delivered to the Minister.

The Death Eaters who’d been captured were being questioned, but the process was slow going. Most of them seemed to be newer recruits. They were petty criminals or discontented pure-bloods from minor families here in France looking to cause trouble. Sebastian had taken charge of the questioning personally, and he was keeping Harry up to date with new information as it came out.

Hopefully there’d be something actionable tomorrow. That first fight hadn’t been enough to scratch Harry’s itch to get back out into the field.

There was a sharp knock on the door that broke Harry from his musings.

“Come in,” Harry called out.

The door swung open, and a weary-looking Sebastian stepped into Harry’s office. He’d worked throughout the night, sleeping on the small sofa in his office briefly when he needed a break, and the strain of that was showing.

“Gabrielle’s been hounding me to wrap up for the day, so I think it’s about time I head home,” Sebastian told him. “I know you’ve been busy and probably want nothing more than to sink into bed back at the hotel, but the offer for supper is still open if you’d like to join us.”

“You’ve been the one taking on the bulk of the workload,” Harry corrected Sebastian. “You haven’t left me much to do, so I’m nowhere near as tired as you.”

“Force of habit, I suppose,” Sebastian grimaced. “But that’s good. Fleur and Apolline would love to see you, and Gabrielle hasn’t stopped singing your praises since the attack. You’ve made quite the impression on her.”

“I think it’s probably the fact that I’m a bit of an outsider,” Harry suggested.

“Ah, she gave you the ‘intra-departmental politics’ line, didn't she?” Sebastian chuckled. “She’s not entirely wrong about people disliking her because she’s a prodigy, my daughter, and a Veela—I even got blowback when I married Apolline—but there’s a bit more to it than that. Still, I think it's less to do with the fact that you’re an outsider and more to do with the fact that you call her out on her bullshit, pardon my language, and can back it up with your own skills. It’s rare for Gabrielle to encounter an Auror who’s a better duellist than her, and it’s even rarer for her to respect them.”

“Well, I’m glad that she’s taken to me so well,” Harry replied.

“She’s taken to you so well that she’s practically begged me to assign her to you as your subordinate for any future field missions we go on,” Sebastian chuckled again. “I’ll leave that up to you, but if you were interested in taking her on, I’m sure that she’d love the opportunity.”

Memories of Susan dying flashed through Harry’s mind before he could stop them. A green light flashing. A scream. Not Susan’s. It was his mother’s. Susan hadn’t had the chance to scream. Then came Bellatrix’s high-pitched laughter that seemed to echo around every corner of his mind. He held Susan’s body in his arms, her lifeless eyes staring up into his.

“I’ll think about it,” Harry said with a weak smile. He turned away from Sebastian quickly and cleaned up a few pieces of parchment on his desk just to give his hands something to do as he collected himself.

“Gabrielle already went home, so we can take the floo in here whenever you’re ready,” Sebastian told him.

“I’m ready now,” Harry told him as he finished stacking the parchment neatly together. He forced his mind away from Susan and onto more pleasant thoughts, such as a nice, home-cooked meal. It was easier to do now than it had been in the weeks after her death.

Sebastian strode up to the fireplace and threw a handful of floo powder in it while calling out: “Chateau Delacour.”

Harry followed him into the flames, and the two of them were whisked away.

Although Harry had never been here personally, Fleur had described her childhood home to him one year at a Weasley Christmas party, and the picture she painted had stuck in Harry’s mind ever since. When he and Sebastian were spat out of the fireplace, he found himself inside of a nice sitting room that had cream-coloured walls and a beautiful red rug over top of the pale, wood floors. Massive windows flanked the fireplace, letting in plenty of sunlight and the warm springtime air. It was exactly as Fleur had described.

“Harry!” 

Fleur’s beaming face shot into view as she rushed to meet him. Her long, silvery-blond hair was done up in a high bun with loose, wavy strands of hair framing her face. She hugged Harry tightly, sighing into his ear.

“It’s been too long,” she murmured as her arms lingered around him.

“It’s only been a year or so,” Harry grimaced, realising just how long that was. When she’d still been married to Bill Weasley and lived in England, they’d seen each other almost every other week for years. Then, nearly a year and a half ago, they’d announced that they were getting divorced. The last time he’d seen Fleur was at Hermione’s birthday party just after the divorce had been finalised. Fleur had moved back to France a few days later, and he hadn’t seen her since.

“A year is too long,” Fleur chastised him gently. “But then again, I hear that you’ve been quite busy. Becoming the Head Auror at such a young age is quite the impressive feat, no?”

“I try my best,” Harry replied modestly.

“Well, your best is quite something,” Fleur smiled at him. “First, you defeated a dark lord, then you’ve become the youngest Head Auror I’ve ever heard of. What’s next? Minister for Magic before you’re thirty?”

“I don’t have any desire to spend my days politicking,” Harry told her, partially deflecting her question.

“Well, that’s what your girlfriend is for, right?” Fleur’s smile turned into a grin. “Daphne Greengrass had been making quite a name for herself too.”

Just how much did Fleur know about him exactly? Harry wondered. She was greeting him like a friend, but it was clear that she had deeper insights into his actions over the last year especially.

Was this some type of threat or merely a friendly recognition of his ambitions?

“Come now, Fleur,” Sebastian laughed easily. “Give the man a minute to get settled in before you start interrogating him.”

“You’re right,” Fleur said, finally letting go of him.

She stepped back into the sunlight streaming in from the window, illuminating the mint-green skirt and black-and-white striped top she had on. But regardless of how beautiful she was, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that Fleur had been testing him just then.

“Come along, Harry,” Sebastian said, patting him on the back. “Apolline and Gabrielle are sure to be waiting.”

“They’re already in the dining room,” Fleur informed them with a smirk on her lips. “Gabrielle couldn’t sit still knowing that The Harry Potter was coming over for supper.”

“Fleur,” Sebastian said warningly as Harry groaned at the name.

“What?” Fleur replied innocently.

“I’m sure that Harry gets enough of that from the public back home in Britain,” Sebastian told her. “Let’s not spoil the evening now.”

“Sorry,” Fleur said, flashing Harry a pretty smile.

Harry just shook his head in amusement. “It’s fine.”

Again, as Harry followed Fleur and Sebastian out of the sitting room, he was struck by how familiar this place seemed to be based on Fleur’s descriptions she’d given him. The main corridor that stretched down the length of the house was wide and beautifully decorated with paintings rather than the typical portraits one saw in England, displaying beautiful vistas and magical environments that seemed more out of a fairytale than reality. The entire place was light and airy and calm.

It was only a short walk down to the dining room. It sat on the western side of the house and had a massive window in that wall to show the setting sun. A long, intricately-carved, wooden table stretched the length of the room. There were ten chairs there, enough for the Delacours and any guests that they’d have over, but only the five closest to one end of the table had table settings laid out for them.

“Harry!”

He was struck by déjà vu as Gabrielle tackled him with a massive hug. He got a face full of her loose, silvery-blond hair as she literally leapt up onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Harry staggered back easily, catching Gabrielle’s weight and wrapping his arms around her back to keep her steady.

“Gabrielle!” Apolline shouted, aghast at her daughter’s actions.

Harry thought it was about her jumping into his arms like that, but it was actually due to the massive blast of Veela allure she sent his way. He’d felt it hit him obviously, but the effect was easy enough to shrug off. He’d never had any issues dealing with Fleur or any other Veela’s allure before, and he highly doubted that any of them could come close to competing with the power of Voldemort’s Imperius Curse.

“Don’t you see, maman?” Gabrielle exclaimed. “It doesn’t affect him one bit, just like Fleur said.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to go testing the poor man,” Apolline chastised her daughter as she got to her feet.

To Harry’s surprise, Apolline looked far younger than Sebastian did. Fleur had mentioned offhandedly before that her mum was actually a couple of years older than her dad, which made this so surprising. Apolline looked like the spitting image of Fleur and Gabrielle, only slightly more mature. She had the beginnings of laugh lines on her cheeks and a wrinkle or two near her eyes, but given the fact that she had to be in her mid sixties, that wasn’t bad in the slightest.

“I’m so sorry for my daughter’s behaviour, Mr Potter,” Apolline said as she pulled Gabrielle off of him. She seemed reluctant to let go, but she quickly realised that it was a fight she wasn’t going to win.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry chuckled good-naturedly. “And please, call me Harry.”

Apolline leaned in and gave him a far more tame hug than either of her daughters did. “Then you must call me Apolline. It’s so wonderful to finally make your acquaintance.”

Harry hugged her back, and thankfully, her hug was far more conservative than her daughter’s were. “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet with you before—”

“Think nothing of it,” Apolline waved him off as she pulled back. “You were under a tremendous amount of pressure, and you couldn’t risk letting anyone know who you were back at Fleur’s wedding.”

Harry grimaced, remembering those dark times. “At least that’s all over with now.”

“Please, come sit down,” Apolline waved him in. She walked back around the table to her spot next to her husband, who was at the head of the table. Gabrielle sat next to her mum, and Harry sat across from her. Fleur took the seat in between Harry and her dad.

In a matter of seconds, food filled the table and wine was served. Many of the dishes were unfamiliar to Harry but close enough to English dishes that he felt comfortable as he began to tuck into the delectable food. 

“It’s been so long since we’ve had a meal together,” Fleur commented to Harry as she spooned some shrimp stew onto her plate. “How are all of the Weasleys?”

“Fine enough, I suppose,” Harry replied after swallowing the food he’d had in his mouth. “Percy’s still enjoying work as the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation, Ron’s still helping out George with the shop, and Ginny’s busy with the new Quidditch season. I think Molly’s trying to get Arthur to start thinking about retirement in a few years, but I think he’d go mad if he was stuck at home all day.”

Fleur smiled easily. “Yes, I can see that. She never was fond of his shed and all of the things he kept in there. What about Charlie?”

Harry shrugged. “Still in Bulgaria last I heard. He came round for Christmas this time, but only for a couple of days.”

“That’s good,” Fleur said.

The conversation lulled again as the unspoken Weasley didn’t come up in conversation. Fleur had never exactly explained in detail as to why she and Bill got divorced, but it had been quite sudden. All that Bill told anyone was that it just didn’t work out and that was that. Harry was unsure if she wasn’t asking about Bill specifically because there was still bad blood between them or if there was something else going on.

“You should tell Harry about your new job,” Apolline suddenly suggested, perhaps perceptive of the awkward air that had filled the room.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry perked up. “Did you ever get your Arithmancy Mastery like you were talking about?”

“Of course I did,” Fleur said pridefully. “And now I’ve taken up residence at Madam Floquet’s Enchantment Boutique in Paris as an Enchantress. I finally get to put my talents to better use than I did when I was working for Gringotts, even if I still have to deal with imbeciles.”

“Don’t get her started on the drama at her workplace,” Gabrielle groaned.

“Now I have to know what’s going on,” Harry said, giving Gabrielle a playful smirk.

Fleur huffed loudly. “There’s two schools of thought when it comes to enchanting: one side focuses more on using runes and the other on charms. Those idiots who argue that using charms is superior are just out to make money; they put so little care and consideration into the work that they do that they don’t care that it’ll need to be fixed or replaced far faster.”

“Because charms only last a few years at most, right?” Harry asked.

“Yes, and runes can last generations if they’re maintained well,” Fleur exclaimed. “I understand that there are things that charms can do that runes can’t, but two products that do the same thing will always be better if they are enchanted by runes rather than charms.”

“We get this rant at least once a week,” Sebastian chuckled.

“I’m glad that you’re at least able to put your skills to better use than with the goblins,” Harry told Fleur honestly. “I’d love to come by the shop some time and see some of the stuff you make.”

“I’m sure that could be arranged,” Fleur smiled eagerly at him, her tone bordering on a purr. “Perhaps some time after hours once the crowds have gone. It’ll be much easier to show you my workspace then.”

Harry glanced over at Sebastian to see his reaction at Fleur blatantly flirting with him, but the man was busy eating his meal and didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by what Fleur said. Apolline, however, had an amused look on her face.

“I might be quite busy with work—” Harry began.

“Too busy to make time for me?” Fleur pouted at him. “Ouch!”

Fleur glared across the table at Gabrielle, who was just setting down her wine glass like nothing was amiss. Harry felt the tablecloth brush across his lap as Fleur kicked her sister back, but Gabrielle didn’t let out a single sound of pain from the blow.

Apolline rolled her eyes and decided to interject in the middle of them before anything could escalate further. “So, Harry, Gabrielle’s been gushing about how wonderful of an Auror you are. I was surprised to hear that you two worked together when Place Cachée was under attack.”

“It was a surprise for me too,” Harry admitted, keeping an eye on Fleur and Gabrielle. “We just happened to run into each other, and I helped her take down the Death Eaters in the building we met in.”

“He was truly wonderful,” Gabrielle boasted in an exaggerated tone as she eyed Fleur. “And he even gave me some tips for next time.”

“Next time?” Apolline repeated curiously.

“Gabrielle requested to be put under Harry’s command for any future field missions,” Sebastian explained. “As I told her, it’s Harry’s decision if he wants to work with her again.”

“Why wouldn’t he want to work with me again?” Gabrielle asked rhetorically.

“Because you’re a brat,” Fleur commented under her breath.

“I happen to think that I have a lot to offer Harry,” Gabrielle commented.

Suddenly, something brushed across Harry’s leg. When it touched him again, he realised that it was a foot. He was in the middle of eating some chicken and didn’t want to make a scene, but the foot started creeping up his leg. When it reached his thigh, Harry casually slid one hand under the table and grabbed the foot.

Gabrielle’s eyes widened just ever so slightly before they returned to normal. Her gaze settled on him as she slowly tried pushing her foot forward again.

“Between the two of us, we’ll stop any Death Eaters that come our way,” Gabrielle said proudly. “We could have a lot of fun together.”

“Fighting dark witches and wizards isn’t fun,” Apolline chastised her daughter lightly. “It’s dangerous.”

Harry allowed Gabrielle’s foot to move as she wanted, and it seemed like she stretched her leg out as far as it could go. Her toes wiggled and just barely touched his crotch. 

“I suppose,” Gabrielle agreed. “But there’s still an exhilarating thrill right before the main event that is just so intoxicating. I can’t help but love it.”

Harry couldn’t tell if Gabrielle was talking about fighting Death Eaters or sex now, or maybe it was both. Regardless, her toes continued to tease him even as the conversation returned back to more mundane things. He didn’t move her foot out of the way, and she made no signs of stopping.

“Monsieur Delacour!” A distant shout suddenly sounded. 

Gabrielle’s foot retracted swiftly from Harry’s crotch as a small house-elf popped into the dinning room, looking terribly nervous.

“There’s a call for you on the floo from the Ministry,” the house-elf squeaked out. “It’s urgent.”

Without missing a beat, Sebastian dropped his cutlery and leapt to his feet.

“Is there anything I can do?” Harry asked the man as he rushed past to the door.

“I’ll let you know if there is,” Sebastian called out over his shoulder as he ran out.

Harry frowned. Was the call about one of the Death Eaters they’d imprisoned, was there another attack, or was there something else they needed to be worried about? Regardless, he didn’t like being kept out of the loop. He considered following Sebastian, but the man had said that he’d let Harry know if there was anything he could do. Surely he wouldn’t delay in giving Harry any pertinent information regarding their case.

He wasn’t in Britain anymore. He didn’t need to be looking over his shoulder for duplicity. He had to trust that Sebastian was here to work with him on this case.

None of the Delacour women seemed surprised at all at the sudden development. It must have been a normal-enough occurrence that they’d seen Sebastian leave in a rush before like this. They just continued on eating like nothing was wrong.

“Sebastian will be home later, I can promise you that,” Apolline told Harry, drawing his attention back to her. “Why don’t you spend the night here? We’ve already got guest rooms ready to go, and that way you can catch up on whatever this mess was over breakfast?”

“Yes!” Fleur and Gabrielle agreed excitedly.

Harry paused in thought. That wasn’t a terrible idea, plus it would help him nip this other issue in the bud. Both Fleur and Gabrielle were clearly making their interest in him known, and he needed to calm them down before an all-out war broke out between them.

“Alright,” Harry agreed with an easy smile. “I’ll stay the night.”