The Grass Is Always Greener Chapter 30. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Cockwarming, Lactation, Teasing.

“Everything is fine.”

“The babies?!” Daphne asked, refusing to remove her hand from her stomach. 

“Not a scratch on their precious heads. Which is more than I can say for their mother,” Serafina muttered as she turned her attention to Daphne’s ankle. 

“But the contractions… I felt-”

“False contractions. It’s completely normal, especially when you’re under a lot of stress.”

“I’d say three dementors qualifies as a lot of stress,” Harry muttered from his chair. He tried to squirm out of Amelia’s grasp but stopped when the older blonde glared at him.

“How’s her ankle, Sera? My patient won’t let me tend to him until he knows his beloved will be fine,” Amelia muttered, rolling her eyes fondly.

“It’s a compound fracture but nothing too serious. I just need to set the bone. It’ll heal by morning.” Serafina pulled away from Daphne with a sigh and carefully tucked her wand behind her ear. “All things considered, it could have been a lot worse.”

“They got to my daughter and my son, Sera.” Cyrus’ polished voice trembled with suppressed fury.

“They didn’t. Harry and Daphne are still alive. So why don’t we focus our attention on them until they’re better, my love?” Amelia asked calmly.

“And once they are?”

“Then we’ll kill them all,” Amelia murmured, her pale green eyes as cold as ice. 

“You… you’re joking right?”

“Of course, Sera. Everyone knows dementors are unkillable. Amelia’s words were just hyperbole.” Cyrus kneeled next to his daughter and smiled at the healer tending to her injuries. “Don’t pay any attention to my wife. She is not the one who needs it at this point in time.” 

Harry’s eyes flickered to the discarded black cloak that Serafina had tossed to the floor and he opened his mouth to correct Cyrus. Amelia chose that very moment to work on the biggest wound on his leg and what came out instead was a loud howl from the resulting pain. 

“Sorry darling.” Amelia leaned over and kissed his damp forehead. “That needed to be done.”

“Am I the only one wondering about the meaning of their presence here?” Amelia asked after she had arranged a damp cloth on Harry’s forehead.

“They’re either in open revolt-”

“Surely he cannot be regaining his strength that quickly, Cyrus,” Amelia muttered. “Wresting control of the dementors two months after his resurrection? If he’s strong enough to do that, why operate in the shadows?”

“He? Who? What are you talking about?” Serafina asked, looking at Amelia with a frown. 

“My wife is falling into old habits, Sera. She likes to think out loud, often to the detriment of those around her,” Cyrus murmured, shooting a warning glance at his wife. “Why don’t we stop speculating and concentrate on our patients? How do you feel, my dear?” he asked, reaching out to clasp Daphne’s hand.

“The contractions won’t stop,” Daphne muttered through gritted teeth. “Are you certain the babies are fine?” 

“Yes,” Serafina replied with a reassuring smile. She pulled her wand free and carefully balanced it between her thumb and index finger. “But if you want, I will check again,” she murmured, beginning to wave her wand in a complicated pattern.

“Well?” Amelia asked, looking at Serafina. She had finished taking care of Harry’s wounds and was sitting on the floor next to him, her hand clasped in his as they nervously waited for the Healer to finish her diagnostic tests. 

“False contractions. The babies are moving a lot which is unusual but not alarming. There is absolutely nothing to worry about,” Serafina said with a smile. “This ankle though…” She frowned as she shifted her attention to the red, swollen joint. “You are a remarkable young lady, Miss Greengrass. I’ve seen people scream in agony for lesser injuries.”

“Mrs. Potter,” Daphne corrected the healer weakly. “I’m a married woman, madam. But I don’t forget my roots. Duty before self.”

“Our family motto,” Cyrus explained in response to Harry’s confused look.

“My duty is to my husband and our children, first and FOREMOST!” Daphne screamed out the last word and her vision darkened. Her bones moved in place with an audible CRACK.

“Sorry,” Serafina said, pulling away from her with an apologetic smile. “I didn’t want to risk pain potions in your current condition.”

“Current condition?!” Daphne gasped, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. 

“Pregnancy.”

“I thought Modrok’s potion is safe during pregnancy,” Amelia muttered.

“It is. Usually,” Serafina murmured, shooting a warning glance at the older woman. “But we try to avoid potions as much as we can. And Mrs. Potter seemed strong enough to make do without it.” She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a vial filled to the brim with a purple liquid. She uncorked it and pressed it against Daphne’s lips, pulling it away once the vial was empty. “Your ankle will heal by tomorrow morning but you need to stay in bed and keep all weight off it for 3 days.”

“Okay,” Daphne murmured. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she follows all the instructions you’ve given her,” Harry added with a crooked smile. He pulled the cloth away from his forehead and sat up. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“My pleasure, Mister Potter,” Serafina said. She created a splint for Daphne’s ankle from the supplies she pulled out of her medicine bag and once she was satisfied the broken joint was secured properly she stood and turned to look at Harry. “You should come see me at Mungo’s in a week. So I can monitor Daphne’s progress.”

“You said everything was alright. Why do you need to monitor my progress if everything is alright?!”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Serafina said politely. She was doing her best to be honest without being alarming. “But we have never been in a similar situation before. This is uncharted territory. I think it would be best for everyone, including the babies, if I kept up with regular monitoring.”

“Of course, Sera. Let me walk you out,” Cyrus gracefully got to his feet and offered his arm, which was happily accepted. He led the short healer out of the cottage and down the winding path that led through the garden, accompanying her till she was out of range of the wards that surrounded the house. He waited until she had safely apparated away before returning. 

“This is a spot of trouble,” Amelia said mildly once her husband had returned. “Why don’t I make some tea?”

“Mother?” Daphne called out, remembering Harry’s reaction to her mother’s new recipe. The Greengrass family had given him enough grief for one night. “No tea. Can we have some chocolate ice cream, please? There’s some in the freezer.”

“Of course, darling.”

Amelia returned in a few minutes with two bowls filled to the brim with ice cream and handed them to Harry and Daphne. She walked over and perched on the arm of the armchair her husband was occupying. 

“Kill them all?” Cyrus asked softly, looking up at his wife with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, you know I was being dramatic, darling. It’s high treason to talk about killing the Minister,” Amelia said lightly.

“That’s quite right. I am a member of the Wizengamot. A custodian of law. Me… or my family would never act in a way that isn’t lawful.”

“Of course, darling.” Amelia smiled coldly. 

“Wait. Why are we talking about killing Fudge?” Harry asked with a frown. 

“We aren’t. But if we were, it would be because the man tried to give my children a fate worse than death.”

“The Minister has direct control over the dementors,” Cyrus added. “They only obey commands from him or a person designated by him.”

“Didn’t they side with Voldemort in the last war?” Harry asked.

“Most of them did. A few stayed loyal to the Ministry. It was all-out war in Azkaban,” Cyrus answered. Years of political training meant that he was able to suppress his unease at the name but he couldn’t hide a flicker of fear from showing on his face. He leaned back and steepled his fingers together, resting his chin on them. His eyelids drooped. “While it’s not inconceivable that the Dark Lord has already reached out to them I do not think it is likely.”

“Why? He’s the embodiment of misery, father. The dementors love misery.”

“The dementors would only back him if they’re certain of his victory, Daphne. Think about it. Some of his most loyal supporters are still locked up in Azkaban. If the dementors have decided to support the Dark Lord, why hasn’t he broken them out?” 

“Makes sense. What if these ones went rogue and decided to support him?” Harry asked.

“Perhaps but it is not likely. The simplest explanation is often the correct one. It’s much more likely that Fudge ordered them to eliminate you.”

“Why?” Daphne growled. She rested a hand protectively over her belly and Harry had the feeling his wife would get the Minister herself if her parents didn’t get to him first.

“I have two suspicions but I’m hoping both are incorrect. I’ll know more after having a chat with Dumbledore.”

“Why are you meeting the Headmaster?”

“Because, daughter, I was assured that someone from his precious Order is going to guard you and Harry at all times, day and night. That was obviously a lie and I want to know what happened.” He stood and walked over to Daphne. “But that is not your concern. You are going to bed and your husband is going to make sure you stay there until your ankle is healed.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered with a firm nod.

Cyrus walked back to the armchair and leaned in to kiss his wife’s cheek. 

“Don’t wait up. I have a feeling this is going to be a long night,” he murmured. He walked over to the fireplace and carefully extracted a pinch of floo powder from the container, throwing it into the blazing fire. Once the flames were green he stepped inside and commanded the network to take him back to Greengrass Manor.

“Would you like me to stay the night?”

Daphne shook her head before Harry could speak.

“We wouldn’t want to impose on you, mother,” she said firmly.

“Very well. I know when I’m not wanted,” Amelia chuckled. “I will go meet Amanda and try to contain the fallout from tonight. Remember, if you need me, I am just a floo call away.”

“Fallout?” It was Harry’s turn to frown. “What fallout?”

“You used magic outside the wards of this house, Harry. Which means it could be detected by the Ministry. The Trace doesn’t go away until you graduate from Hogwarts and it detects all magic cast in its vicinity. If Fudge was the one to send the dementors this might be his…” Amelia trailed off and shook her head. “I will handle it.” She bent and picked up the discarded dementor’s cloak. “Do you mind if I keep this?”

“Why would we want it?”

“Some might call it a trophy. It belongs to your husband by right of conquest, dearest.”

“I don’t want it. Keep it,” Harry muttered, staring at the dirty piece of cloth with a mixture of hatred and disgust.

“Thank you. This is evidence of what happened tonight. A dementor will not shed its cloak unless it is forced to do so.” 

“I thought dementors couldn’t be killed.”

Amelia gave Harry a small smile.

“People said one couldn’t survive the killing curse but you did that as well, Harry. If you can do that, why not this?” She held up the cloak in her hand. “You do not know the limits of your capabilities yet, Harry. The Dark Lord fears you and he is right to do so.” 

Amelia gently kissed Harry’s cheek and then walked over to Daphne, bending to brush her lips against her daughter’s forehead.

“Take care, sweetheart. I know you like to be a handful but don’t give your husband too much grief,” she murmured, her lips twitching.

“Mother!” Daphne hissed. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment but she couldn’t help the proud smile on her face. She was a brat. She loved being a brat. She was quite certain Harry loved it as well. 

Amelia chuckled and straightened. 

“Remember to make sure she gets some rest, Harry. Her fracture will heal faster if she’s asleep,” she said as she passed Harry on her way to the fireplace. She waited for Harry to nod before throwing a handful of powder into the fireplace and stepping into the green flames. She waved at them one last time before the network carried her away to Greengrass Manor.

“Daph.”

“Sir…” Daphne whined, wriggling in a futile attempt to get comfortable on the tiny couch. Now that they were alone her facade broke and the neediness that had been bubbling in her chest all night finally pushed its way out. 

“I’ll grab you some pillows and a blanket.”

“I don’t want to sleep on the couch. It’s too small. Besides, where will you sleep?”

Letting her sleep alone was not an option. Harry looked around, then shrugged. 

“On the floor? The carpet is soft enough. But if the couch is too small to be comfortable I’ll carry you to bed.”

“I don’t want to sleep in our bedroom either.”

“Where do you want to sleep, Daphne?” 

“Can you take me to the kink room?”

Harry stared at Daphne in disbelief, wondering if she had hit her head in the fall.

“The… playroom. Right now?”

“I…” Daphne trailed off. She blinked her eyes rapidly to get rid of the unshed tears obscuring her vision. Her lower lip trembled and she shivered violently. “I can’t close my eyes, Harry. I can’t… I can’t sleep! What if they come back? What if they want our babies?! Lily and Belladona…” 

She wrapped her arms around her belly protectively. 

“I have to keep them safe, Harry. That’s my one job as their mother!”

“Hey.” Harry hurried to her side and knelt next to the couch. He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently. “They’re safe. You kept them safe and protected, princess.”

“Wards are not infallible,” Daphne whispered. “What if I fall asleep and the dementors return?” she asked, looking at Harry with big, fear-filled eyes. 

Harry glanced at the half-empty bowl on the coffee table. The chocolate hadn’t helped.

“Why do you want me to take you to the playroom, Daph?” Harry asked softly.

“When I’m there with you…” Daphne averted her eyes and a blush crept onto her pale cheeks. “It’s the only place I feel truly safe.”

“Alright. Let’s go.” Harry gently pushed his arms under her back and knees. He stood and braced himself before picking her up. Once she was safely nestled against his chest and had wrapped her arms around his neck he turned around, carefully making his way to his study.

“Do you think I’m weak?”

“I think you’re the strongest woman I know,” Harry answered with quiet conviction. “How badly does your ankle hurt?”

“Not too bad,” Daphne lied. She didn’t want to worry him more than she already had. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, watching him expertly navigate the study and walk over to the bookstand hiding the secret entrance to their playroom through a curtain of hair covering her face. 

Harry walked into the playroom once the bookshelves had rearranged themselves to reveal the entrance. The candles strategically arranged around the room sprung to life, bathing the space with yellow light. A fire erupted in the fireplace as he walked past it, flooding the room with much-needed warmth.

“Do you want to cuddle?”

“Whatever you’d have me do, sir,” Daphne answered formally. Her grip around his neck tightened.

Harry smiled softly. Their relationship had been the one constant in the last three months of their life. Everything around them had changed and the future was scary and uncertain. He finally understood why the chocolate had failed and why she needed the comfort and familiarity of the playroom.

“It’s not like you’ll do what I tell you to do. Brat,” Harry teased fondly, his smile growing at Daphne's tearful giggle.

He set her down on the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her onto her back.

“I’ll need to cut these jeans, love.”

“I’ll try to be still. No promises,” Daphne teased, squirming playfully. 

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He pressed it against the jeans over her uninjured ankle and gently began to slice the fabric apart, slowly making his way up to her crotch. 

“Daddy!” Daphne gasped when she felt the tickle of air caress her nether regions. Harry had sliced her knickers in half along with her jeans. 

“Sorry.” Harry smiled cheekily. “My hand slipped.”

“Likely story,” Daphne muttered with a grin. She lifted her hips to allow Harry to pull the ruined clothes free of her body. She squealed when Harry reached out and playfully patted her pussy. 

“Hands over your head so I can take off your blouse, love.”

“No.” Daphne crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Harry resolutely.

“Why not?”

“I’ll be cold if I have to sleep without clothes, sir.”

“There’s a fire.”

“It’s not enough.”

“What if I promise to cuddle you?” Harry asked, trying and failing to suppress his grin.

“All night?” Daphne batted her eyelashes innocently.

“All night.”

Daphne smirked and obediently raised her arms. Harry pulled the blouse free of her body and took off her bra with her help. He left her there and made his way to the fireplace.

“You said you were going to cuddle me!” Daphne growled, picking up a pillow and chucking it at him. He dodged it expertly and threw it right back at her. Daphne moaned as the soft pillow smacked into her sensitive, full breasts. “Sir!” she exclaimed, her pretty pink lips curved into a pout.

“I am.” Harry stripped and dropped his clothes in a pile next to Daphne’s. He picked them all up and unceremoniously dumped them in the fire. The red purifying sigil etched into the stone of the fireplace glowed as the fire burned away the taint left by the dementors.

“You need to learn to be patient,” Harry murmured as he walked back to the bed.

“You…” Daphne lost her train of thought as her eyes feasted on Harry’s naked form. She licked her lips and spread her legs, ignoring the screech of pain from her injured ankle. She tried to prop herself up on her elbows but was stopped from doing so by Harry’s hands on her shoulders.

“We will cuddle tonight. Nothing else,” Harry ordered.

Daphne pouted but stopped squirming. She liked testing his patience, but not when her health, and by extension, their babies’, was on the line.

Harry bent and gently pressed his lips against the left side of her belly. “One for Lily,” he murmured against her soft skin. He shifted to the right side and kissed her stomach again. “And one for Belladonna.”

“And none for me?” Daphne asked, feeling vulnerable again.

“For you, princess…” Harry crawled onto the bed and hovered over her to avoid putting any weight on her body. He leaned in and kissed her softly. “Cuddles,” he whispered, rolling off her just as she bucked her hips to meet his throbbing manhood.

“Stop moving your leg or Healer Serafina will kick me out of this house until your ankle is fully healed,” Harry ordered. He crawled up the bed and arranged pillows against the headboard, leaning back into them. 

“Yes, sir,” Daphne grumbled. Her pout changed into a grin the minute Harry grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into his lap. She rested her head on his broad chest and turned so her ear was directly over his heartbeat. “You’re hard,” she mumbled, wiggling her ass against the rod pressing into her skin.

“You want to know the truth?”

“… yes?”

“I’m always hard around you, Mrs. Potter.”

“You need to be in me,” Daphne declared. She ignored her warm cheeks and the tremor of excitement racing up her spine. They’d never done anything like what she was proposing.

“Daphne-”

“No, listen. You need to be in me, sir. We don’t have to do anything else. Be in me every time we cuddle. It’ll be more comfortable for both of us.”

“And you won’t try anything else?”

“No.” She continued before he could speak, “I may be a brat but I promised never to lie to you and I intend to keep that promise.”

Harry nodded. He kissed her head and reached out to wrap his hand around his shaft. He gently guided his thick, precum-coated tip to her slick entrance. His length slowly sank into her inviting folds, both of them moaning in unison as his cock impaled her tight pussy. 

“K-keep going,” Daphne urged breathlessly. “You feel so good!” She moaned. Her hands reached down and she absentmindedly rolled his heavy, cum-engorged balls between her fingers once he was fully sheathed inside her.

“Only cuddling,” Harry reminded her sternly.

“We’re allowed to touch each other while we cuddle,” Daphne said innocently. “For example, you can touch my clit, sir. Healers think an orgasm can help with pain.”

“Brat,” Harry murmured fondly as he realized what her plan had been all along.

“Your brat,” Daphne reminded him. 

Harry's attempt to formulate a retort was ruined by his growling stomach.

Daphne’s eyes widened. 

“You haven’t had dinner. You need to eat!” She exclaimed, pulling her hands away from his body.

“Daphne, I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Daddy-”

“Princess.”

“Fine,” Daphne huffed. “Have some, then. It’s been a while since you’ve had a taste,” she murmured, gesturing at her chest.

Harry considered her offer, then shook his head. Being inside her, having her tight, velvety walls hug and massage his length felt far too good for him to even contemplate pulling out of her.

But maybe… 

He glanced at the cabinet to his right.

Maybe he didn’t have to pull out of her. He picked up his wand and pulled open the top drawer with a spell. 

Daphne watched him summon the suction cup and tube followed by a black satin blindfold with wide eyes. 

“I don’t want to pull out of you. Are you comfortable with trying this?” he asked softly.

Daphne nodded mutely. She instinctively closed her eyes when Harry wrapped the blindfold around them, surrendering her body to him without hesitation.

I am his. He is mine. As long as we’re together, we’ll be alright.

She groaned at the gentle pinch to the pink nipple crowning her heavy breast. Harry rolled the stiffening nub between his fingers until it was fully erect and then released it. Her relief from pressure was only short-lived, however. She squealed and squirmed helplessly in his arms when he attached the suction cup and the pressure on her poor nipple increased tenfold. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No! Please, sir!” Daphne mewled. The pressure disappeared the minute the first squirt of yellowish-white nectar shot out of her aching nipple. The cup kept pumping her nipple and before long a steady stream of milk leaked out of her. 

Harry attached the tube to it and pushed the other end between his lips. He hesitated for a second before he began sucking.

“H-how is it?” Daphne asked, feeling lightheaded. All memories of the dementor attack were driven out of her mind as the familiar haze of Subspace enveloped her like a protective blanket. What they were doing was so taboo…

A squirt of arousal leaked out of her and coated his balls. Her hands returned to them and she gently massaged them, coaxing the orbs to give up their bounty. 

“Delicious,” Harry groaned. A familiar sweetness coated his tongue and he sucked greedily, eager to take all that she had to offer.

He reluctantly pulled it out of his mouth when an idea occurred to him. It had never been possible for her to have a taste before but…

Daphne stiffened when she felt the tip of the tube gently push against her lips. The implication was clear and felt so, so wrong. It was not meant for her! But before her mind could catch up her lips were already around the tube and she began sucking. The delicious milk flooded into her mouth. She moaned wantonly, the arousal gushing out of pussy coating Harry’s balls and her hands. 

Daphne’s back arched and she cried out when Harry’s calloused fingers found her clit and pinched the sensitive nub. She was kept in place by the arm wrapped around her waist and before long she found herself against Harry’s chest again. The tube fell out of her mouth but he caught it just in time, pushed it between his lips, and began sucking.

“Good girl,” Harry growled in between sips.

Daphne basked in the praise and happily wiggled her ass against him. The chill that had seeped into her bones had been banished and was replaced by a warmth in her belly that was growing with every passing second. She was a good girl. She was his good girl. She was carrying his heirs, his legacy. She would give him a family…

A surprised gasp escaped her lips as Harry detached the suction cup. The throbbing in her sore nipple intensified and the reddened nub transformed into a pinpoint of delicious pain. Harry’s fingers kept working their magic on her clit, massaging and caressing the sensitive nub and gently guiding her to her climax. 

It crashed into her without warning. She came with a shriek that echoed around the room, her vision darkening. Her tired body slumped against him even as her pussy fluttered around his length, trying to milk him. She mewled quietly and turned her head to pepper his chest with loving kisses. She groaned in protest when he pulled out of her, but he ignored it.

Daphne’s arousal, which had already coated his manhood and their legs, was forming a large wet spot on the sheets under them. That, Harry decided, was a problem for later.

For now, Daphne was asleep, memories of dementors and the danger to their children long forgotten. 

---

Cyrus politely knocked on the Headmaster’s door, resisting the urge to barge inside and demand accountability. As satisfying as that would have felt, years of dealing with the likes of Fudge and Malfoy had taught him that it was rarely how work got done. He had other, more productive ways of showing his displeasure and he planned to utilize every single one of them.

“Come in.” 

The voice was tired. They were all tired these days, it seemed. 

Cyrus pushed open the door and walked into an office that seemed unchanged since the time he had been a student haunting the same halls as his daughters. The same portraits, the same instruments whizzing away aimlessly on the expansive desk, the same books lining every wall of the office. Only this time, there was no phoenix. He had been to the office only once during his time as a student but it wasn’t an experience one forgot.

“Professor Dumbledore.” He bowed courteously and waited to be shown a seat before sitting on the designated chair. 

“Albus, please. We are all adults now, Lord Greengrass.”

“Then I must insist that you call me Cyrus.”

“I heard about the attack, Cyrus. I hope they’re both alright?”

“Yes. Quite fine, thank you. Harry is more than able to defend himself and my daughter. A good thing too, for there seems to be a shortage of those who will protect them these days,” Cyrus said coldly.

“Mundungus has been adequately punished, Cyrus,” Albus murmured warily. He did not like the cold fury in Cyrus Greengrass’ pale blue eyes. “If he dies mysteriously there will be an investigation. Both of us can ill-afford one at this stage. It would be unwise to give the Minister more ammunition to attack us with.”

Cyrus resisted the urge to laugh. Black and white, that was all his old Headmaster saw. 

“Oh, Albus. I won’t touch a hair on Mundungus’ head. I feel death is too inadequate for a mistake such as this. So quick and final.” Cyrus steepled his fingers together. “But one can never be too careful in Mr. Fletcher’s profession. A person can be utterly ruined swiftly and unexpectedly. They might even find themselves in Azkaban before they understand what’s happening. Since we are such good friends I thought it only right to pass the warning on to you. Mr. Fletcher should be careful or he’ll experience what my children did tonight for the rest of his life.”

“Children, Cyrus?”

“Harry is our son, Albus. My grandchild will one day inherit the Greengrass estate.”

“That doesn’t make him your son.”

“He’s just as much a son to us as Daphne would have been a daughter to James and Lily. I’d spend less time worrying about the demands of the future Lord Greengrass and more on the demands of the current one. I demand an investigation by the Wizengamot.”

“That is something you will have to take up with the new Chief Warlock, Cyrus. I have just returned from the Ministry. There was an emergency session of the Wizengamot and the first item on the agenda was voting me out. The second one was to make Theodore Nott the new Chief Warlock.”

“E-emergency meeting?” Cyrus asked, startled. “I was not told.”

“The Minister told Wizengamot that several members were not reachable. The entire thing was a sham but Wizengamot voted to proceed. There were enough members for a quorum. Just… enough.”

Cyrus slumped back in his chair, shocked. When he got over it, he smiled and then began laughing. 

“Why are you laughing, Cyrus?”

“You and I, Albus, have been so busy watching each other for move and countermove that neither of us saw the Minister coming. He used my children because he knew both you and I would summon our factions and neither would be available to block him. I presume that’s what happened? Your first call was probably to Madam Bones, mine was to Lady Zabini, and so on and so forth…” Cyrus trailed off. He dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and carefully laid it on the polished wood of the desk. “I think it’s time we laid all our cards on the table and joined forces, Albus.”

Notes:

Ah! The much needed end to the cliffhanger from last chapter. As promised, the babies are fine but Harry and Daphne are still going to be in for a surprise! If you'd like a flash forward in the next chapter to see what happens to Lily and Belladonna, let me know in the comments below! And if you haven't yet, please use the Invite Link in the Pinned Post and join my Discord Server, I post a lot of face claims and art there!