A Fortuitous Arrangement Chapter 12. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Deflowering, Threesome, Teasing.

Harry couldn’t move. It was like he was suspended in amber. A thick viscous fluid settled on his limbs, making it impossible to do anything but be a witness to his surroundings.

He blinked and the surroundings changed in an instant. He was suddenly a puff of black smoke, his body not his own anymore. The cold air tickled his pallid, undead skin as he shot through London, his presence confusing pedestrians and drivers alike. He could feel a surge of alien power coursing through his veins. That was not all he felt. Hatred and malice so intense that his entire body vibrated with them. Anger too, at the failings of his useless underlings who couldn’t accomplish a simple task for him. 

He landed in a dark, smelly, and empty alleyway with a SWISH, his black robes fluttering around his body as his feet touched the ground. He was close. He was so, so close. He could sense it. All he had to do was reach out and-

He checked himself. The back door left by his loyal servant was still undetected. He could come and go as he pleased, but not yet, he reminded himself! 

The risk of getting caught was too high. He was still getting used to his new body and it would not do to risk a confrontation with the Aurors or that old dotard until he had regained his old strength and had his most loyal supporters by his side again. Still, he could not help his desire to take a peek at his destiny. He extended his hand, and Harry’s view darkened and changed again. 

He was wriggling on the floor, the cold, smooth tiles tickling his scales as he made his way down a corridor. It was empty and dark but he could see perfectly. The green flames burning in brackets set along the walls at regular intervals cast long shadows on the ground. The entire place had a forbidden feel to it, as if his presence was tainting holy ground.

He ignored the growing unease and kept going, slithering closer and closer to the black door in the distance. Within minutes he was in front of it and he raised himself off the ground, reaching for it-

There was a burst of bright light and he was thrown into the air. He was falling, falling, falling…

“NO!” Harry shot up in bed. His scar was on fire and his hands instinctively shot up to cover it, to protect it from whatever was hurting him. “No!” he cried out hoarsely, still half-asleep.

“Darling?” Susan was a light sleeper and was up in an instant. She looked at her husband, alarmed at his panicked voice. “What’s wrong?!”

Hermione shot up in bed and turned towards Harry. She wrapped her arm around Harry’s broad shoulders and pulled his shaking body into a hug, her arms protectively wrapped around him. 

Susan scooted around Hermione and sat at the bottom of the bed by his legs. She pulled them into her lap and began to massage his calves gently. 

“He was dreaming,” Hermione said quietly.

“He’s burning up from a nightmare?” Susan asked, her brow furrowed in confusion and concern.

“It’s less of a dream and more like a vision,” Hermione explained. “His scar is a connection to Voldemort. He sometimes dreams about the bloody wanker. It started last year but stopped this summer… after you moved in. He told me the first time he got a peaceful night’s sleep in a year was on your wedding night when you were in his arms.”

“Oh.” Susan ignored her pink cheeks and awkwardly cleared her throat. “Harry?”

“I’m fine.” His voice was tired but he had stopped trembling. “Sorry for worrying you. I didn’t tell you because they had stopped…”

“It’s okay. Your body is your own, darling. If there’s something you’re not comfortable talking about, even with me, that’s completely fine,” Susan said. She bent and kissed both of his feet in turn. “But if you tell me, I can help.”

“I didn’t want you to worry…”

“In sickness and in health, remember?” Susan said lightly. “Having your mind invaded by a stupid Dark Lord is certainly unique, I’ll give you that. But it still falls under sickness, darling, and I swore to stand by your side. Hermione will too, one day.”

“Mhm,” Hermione murmured with quiet confidence. She was naked, in Harry’s bed, and cuddling her best friend. What more proof did she need that they belonged together? That she needed to stop pretending that she needed to settle for anything less than what she truly desired? 

Her quiet giggle drew Harry and Susan’s attention.

She blushed at their inquisitive gazes and lowered her head to cover her pink cheeks. 

“I was just imagining the look on my parents’ faces when I tell them my husband has another wife,” she admitted and giggled again. “And that I like her almost as much as I like him.”

“Two, Hermione,” Susan reminded her with a smirk. “He’ll have two other wives. At the very least.”

“At the very least?!” Harry asked, his eyebrows shooting up and threatening to disappear into his messy black hair.

“Well, you need someone to be Lady Black… or Lady Potter, depending on which title Hermione wants to lay claim to.” Susan got down on all fours and crawled towards the couple. She wrapped her arms around them and smushed her body against them. “But just like he ruined our cuddle puddle, Voldemort has also destroyed a lot of families. There are a lot of cute, lonely girls out there who’d love a matrilineal marriage with Harry Potter. Greengrass, Carrow… even Parkinson is the last of her line.”

“I’ll chop off my dick before I marry Parkinson,” Harry muttered.

“Well, then we can forget about her because I rather like your dick, my lord,” Susan teased breathily. 

“Aren’t the Carrows twins?” Hermione asked. “I never see them together.”

“Mhm. The one in Slytherin is pretty vile but the Ravenclaw one is surprisingly nice. I’ve studied with Flora a few times. She’s always ready to lend a hand to whoever needs help in the library,” Susan murmured.

“I’m not marrying anyone else for a long time, possibly ever. So you can stop looking for wives for me, thank you very much.”

“And why is that?”

“Keeping up with one wife is hard enough,” Harry teased. “I’d go mental if I had a handful of them.”

“You find it difficult to keep up with me?!” Susan asked incredulously. “Mione, do you know that mysterious illness I had all summer? Where I was sore and my voice was hoarse all the time? Guess what caused it?”

“You said it was the strange London fog but that never made any… oh. OH!” Hermione squeaked, her cheeks bright red. 

“Yep. Maybe you’ll have more self-control but I wanted to keep going even after round three,” Susan giggled. 

“We are trying to have a baby!” Harry protested. He pouted as the giggling intensified. “Seriously, you two. You know, other girls would be jealous at the thought of their partner trying to get more girlfriends.”

“Other girls don’t have an insatiable man as their husband,” Susan reminded him. “Hermione and I need someone to occupy you so we can get some work done. Plus, I don’t trust you not to burn down our house when we have girl’s nights.”

“Also, I like cuddle puddles,” Hermione admitted shyly. It was nice to be with people who weren’t around her just because they wanted help with classwork. Her dorm mates were nice but she didn’t belong with Lavender, Parvati, and the others. The only time they spent any time with her was when they wanted help with something. “Although what we have right now is not one. We need one more member at the very least.”

“You heard her. She’s the boss.”

“Since when?!”

“Since tonight,” Susan giggled. “Listening to Hermione has kept you alive all these years so I suggest you keep doing that. I want to grow old with you, Harry Potter.”

“Me too,” Hermione admitted in a voice so quiet that it was barely audible. 

Harry and Susan heard her admission and smiled, but wisely didn’t comment on it. 

“You two are forgetting the fact that half the castle thinks I’m insane.”

“You are underestimating the amount of women who find a crazy hot guy attractive. Besides, it’s only a matter of time before someone catches a glimpse of Voldemort and the Ministry won’t be able to deny his return any more.” Susan shrugged.

“He was there…” Some of the wariness returned to Harry’s voice as he closed his eyes and focused on the dream he’d just had. “In the Ministry. He tried to open a door but he couldn’t.”

“My Auntie and Professor Dumbledore will take care of it, okay? We’ll go to him tomorrow and tell him about your dream.”

“Okay,” Harry murmured, still lost in thought. “If he’ll see us. He’s been avoiding me all summer.”

“Harry?” Hermione turned and kissed the corner of his lips. “Stop worrying. There’s nothing you can do right now. We have a few hours before we decide on a course of action, so relax.”

Susan gently placed her hands on Harry’s shoulders and pushed him against the mountain of pillows she liked to have piled against their bed’s headboard at all times. 

“What’re you doing?”

“When you think back on your nights, I don’t want you to remember the nightmares,” Susan whispered. She gently wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and coaxed him to hardness with slow, long strokes. 

“I have a lot of them,” Harry whispered. A shiver ran down his spine and he closed his eyes. He groaned and bucked his hips, a trickle of precum leaking out of his tip. It flowed down his length and stained Susan’s hand.

“And there’s two of us,” Hermione whispered. “I’m ready,” she murmured, glancing at Susan. They hadn’t gone all the way at her request.

“Are you sure?” Susan asked. She bent and kissed Harry’s tip, swirling her tongue around the sensitive glans to lap up the precum clinging to it. Harry groaned and bucked his hips again but she pulled away before he could impale her mouth with his girth. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready, sweetie.”

“I’m ready,” Hermione murmured, her voice trembling. “I’m ready now.”

“Mione-”

“I’m ready, sir,” Hermione said firmly, cutting him off before he could say anything. She straddled his lap with Susan’s help and spread her legs as far as they’d go. 

“I’ll be here the entire time. It’s okay,” Susan murmured. She placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder and gently guided her womanhood towards Harry’s tip. 

“It’s so big,” Hermione whispered breathlessly. She leaned forward and rested her palms on Harry’s firm chest, surrendering control of her body to the more experienced girl. “Will it fit? What if it doesn’t? What if I-”

Harry grabbed a fistful of Hermione’s curls and pulled her closer for a kiss, quietening both her voice and her mind. She quietly moaned into his lips.

Susan reached out and buried her free hand in Hermione’s bushy hair. She yanked the girl up against her chest with a much gentler tug. Hermione squeaked at the sting, her pert breasts bouncing from the to-and-fro movement. 

“Trust me,” Susan murmured when Harry grunted in disapproval. “You’ll prefer it this way.” 

She placed her flat palm on Hermione’s back and forced her to straighten her back. Harry could watch the petite brunette in all her naked glory as Susan slowly lowered her onto his throbbing manhood. His shaft split Hermione’s slick lips and slowly sank into her soft folds, stretching out the walls of her virgin pussy as he impaled her. 

“Oh, Merlin!” Hermione gasped. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, all of her attention focused on the rapidly increased burning in her core. Her walls were already stretched to their limits by the time Harry’s cockhead pushed against her intact curtain, and he wasn’t even halfway inside her!

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Susan asked huskily. She slowly ran her hands over Hermione’s gentle curves, letting Harry’s gaze follow her. 

“Y-yes,” Harry whispered breathlessly. He opened his mouth but the words died in his throat as his gaze landed on Hermione’s firm breasts. Each was the perfect handful and was crowned by a pink areola the size of a galleon and a stiff pink nub. Harry watched with wide eyes as Susan reached out and gently pinched one of Hermione’s nipples. She rolled it between her fingers, drawing a needy whine from Hermione’s lips.

“Do you promise to love and cherish her?”

“Y-yes.”

“Do you promise to protect her?”

“I do.”

“Do you wish to give her your seed?”

“It is hers. And yours,” Harry said, groaning as Hermione’s walls fluttered around his throbbing shaft. They massaged his length, milking it with the lightest of touches.

Susan grinned and gently pushed Hermione down on Harry’s cock. 

“HARRY!” Hermione screamed, her vision darkening as Harry’s tip pushed deeper and claimed her virginity. Her vision darkened and she felt a trickle of wetness run down her thighs. She swayed in place and Susan carefully guided her body downward. By the time she came around she was safely resting on top of Harry and his arms were protectively wrapped around her petite body. His face was buried in her hair and she giggled tearfully as he peppered it with playful kisses.

“We can stop here for the night so Hermione can get used to you being inside her.”

“Of course,” Harry said hoarsely. He traced Hermione’s spine with a finger and she shivered in his arms. His cock was sheathed inside Hermione’s tight pussy. Every tiny movement caused her walls to flutter around his length, massaging it. Harry closed his eyes and focused on the heavenly feeling, his nightmare all but forgotten.

Susan waited until they were both fast asleep and quietly slipped out of bed. She grabbed a nightgown off the ottoman and secured it around her body, did up her long, red hair in a messy ponytail, and checked her reflection in the mirror before exiting the bedroom to get started on breakfast.

Harry had Hermione and she had both of them, and for now, everything was good in her world.

                                                                         ---

“You know this isn’t your apartment, right, Greengrass?” Harry ran a tired hand through his messy hair as he emerged from the bedroom and smiled at the sight of the blonde Slytherin perched on a barstool in the kitchen. “You can’t just show up here demanding to be fed.”

“Hush, you,” Susan said, seasoning the scrambled eggs she had artistically arranged on a plate with toast and a salad. She leaned over and handed the plate to Daphne. “I like cooking for people.”

“Delicious as always,” Daphne said after inhaling a mouthful of food. She waved her fork in Harry’s direction, glad that years of training meant she could keep her composure even when Harry Potter was walking around looking like a bloody Greek god. She, however, did file away the mental image of his sculpted chest, toned abdomen, and bare arms in her mind for future use. “Do you mind putting a shirt on? Maybe shave and wash your face?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s considered to be the polite thing to do when you have company? You shouldn’t walk around looking like a Knockturn Alley thief when you’re entertaining a guest.”

“Not invading a newlywed’s home at seven in the morning is also considered the polite thing to do,” Harry murmured as he walked over to kiss Susan’s cheek. “Have you considered going to the Great Hall? I’ve heard they have food there as well.”

Harry poured himself a cup of freshly brewed tea and turned towards Daphne, leaning against the marble kitchen counter and watching her scarf down her plateful of food with a smile. 

“Not as good as your wife’s,” Daphne mumbled once the eggs had disappeared. “Besides, I have to tolerate Malfoy’s presence if I eat in the Great Hall. It’s bad enough I have to watch Parkinson play find the tiny dick in our Common Room these days. I'd rather not be in their presence during mealtimes, I’d never be able to keep my food down.”

“Does he have a tiny dick or is he the tiny dick?”

 “If we’re talking about Malfoy, I’m pretty sure the answer is both,” Hermione murmured as she stumbled out of the bedroom. She pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn and shambled like a zombie to the teapot and poured herself a mug of steaming tea. 

Daphne shrugged in agreement and bit into a piece of buttered toast.

“How’d you sleep?” Susan asked with a knowing smile.

“That was the best nap I’ve had, ever. The bed is so soft.” Hermione secured her hair into a messy ponytail and walked over to join Harry. She sat down on the chair next to his and tugged on the Quidditch jersey she had grabbed from his closet to make sure her ass and thighs were covered. 

Susan giggled and decided not to point out the fact that she had, in fact, not slept on the bed. 

Harry, who had frozen when Hermione stumbled out of the bedroom, relaxed when he saw that Daphne was completely unfazed by Hermione’s presence.

“You aren’t going to ask what Hermione’s doing here?”

“Why would I question the presence of the girl you’ve been dating for five years in your apartment?” Daphne raised an eyebrow. “The only thing that concerns me is your refusal to marry her given how quickly you put a ring on this one,” she said, pointing at Susan with her fork. “Do the respectable thing and marry Granger over Christmas break. Her shirt already says ‘Potter’. How much longer are you going to string the girl along?” Daphne asked with a smirk.

“Five years?!” “It was just a random thing I grabbed from the closet!” Harry and Hermione spluttered together. They turned to look at each other and blushed deeply at the same time.

“Yeah. Tracey told me that she heard from Marietta who heard it from some Ravenclaw girl that Granger thanked you with a blowie after you saved her from that troll and that you two have been dating ever since. I’m usually not one to believe the Hogwarts rumor mill but it would explain why you two are never apart and why Weasley whines so much. I would too, if I had to be the third wheel in a relationship for five years.”

“The… bathroom… blowie…” Harry muttered in a strangled voice. “We weren’t even alone in there!”

Hermione merely stared at Daphne, stunned into silence. 

“Hey, the first thing you did when we met on the train this year was grab my breasts, Potter. I don’t know how kinky you are.”

“That was an accident!” Harry said hotly. 

“Stop teasing my husband, Daph,” Susan interjected sternly. She pushed the remaining eggs in the pan onto her plate. “It’s too early in the morning to wind him up. Nobody thinks you got a blowie from Hermione in any bathroom.”

“Half the castle does.”

“Okay, fine, half the castle does,” Susan conceded, playfully glaring at Daphne. “But the other half, the sensible half, will believe that you were just good friends until last night.”

“I won’t.”

“I never said you were a part of the sensible half, Miss Greengrass,” Susan said primly. She wiped down the kitchen counter and began preparations for another batch of eggs and toast for Harry and Hermione. 

“Nerd.”

“Brat.”

“Cutie.”

“Yes, gorgeous?”

“Ladies,” Harry interjected, raising his voice when Susan and Daphne didn’t listen. “Ladies,” he said, nodding at Hermione. She was staring off into the distance, chewing her lower lip worriedly.

“Everyone thinks Harry and I have been dating since the first year?” she asked quietly.

“Yep. Why do you think nobody asked you out on a date?”

“I thought it’s because I am…” Hermione trailed off and gestured at her body with her free hand.

“Beautiful?” Daphne asked, gratefully accepting a mug of tea from Susan. “Nobody wanted to take the risk of pissing off Potter after he humiliated Malfoy in the Dueling Club and outed himself as a Parsletongue. Even when it was obvious you two had a fight or it seemed like you’d broken up.”

“From the perspective of everyone else, you always got back together,” Susan pointed out.

“True.”

“What about Viktor?” Hermione challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Everyone thought you two fought and you let Krum take you to the Yule Ball to make Harry jealous,” Susan explained with a small smile. “It makes sense when you think about it.”

“No, it doesn’t!” Hermione squeaked.

“Yes, it does. It worked, or at least, we thought it worked. Potter stared at you all night.”

“I did not!”

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. I did,” Harry muttered under his breath. “But only because I wanted to make sure she was alright and I wanted to stop Ron before he did something foolish.”

“And?” Susan coaxed, instinctively knowing Harry had left something unsaid. 

“And she looked really pretty in that dress,” Harry admitted after a moment, knowing his wife wouldn’t let the matter lie.

“I still have it,” Hermione whispered shyly.

“The dress?”

“Mhm. I can wear it for you if you want,” Hermione murmured. He liked costumes. She knew that much. 

“I’d love that.”

“I hate to interrupt the budding romance but I need to borrow Potter for an hour.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Because you’re putting on a shirt and going on a walk with me.”

“Why?” Harry asked again.

“Because we need to talk and I want to make sure we’re not overheard.”

“We can talk here. It’s safe.”

“Is it?” Daphne looked around at the apartment. “Do you know who lived here before you? Are you certain professors can’t access it in your absence? How sure are you that there are no Snooping Charms? Or someone listening using one of those contraptions your friends are selling like hotcakes?”

“Daphne, you’re being paranoid,” Susan frowned.

“We’re in a war. My paranoia is the thing that will keep your husband alive.”

“We?” Harry raised an eyebrow at the odd phrasing. 

“Yes, Potter. We. I’m going to stand by your side, even if your ignorance sends me to an early grave.”

“Why would you do that?”

It made no sense to him. The Greengrass family was famous for their neutrality, both in the Wizengamot and in the war against Voldemort. Being friends with them was thing one but actively abandoning that policy of neutrality and taking their side was much riskier.

She was smart enough to know that, which made her decision extremely baffling.

“Because we’re friends, Harry. And that’s what friends do,” Daphne said tersely. She hopped off the stool and glared at him. “Do you have any more stupid questions? No? Well then, will you please put on a shirt and make yourself presentable?”

“What?” Daphne said defensively in response to the look Susan gave her after Harry retreated to the bedroom.

“Why are you so harsh with him?”

“Look, it’s your job to keep him happy. My job is to keep him alive and stop him from being the world’s biggest idiot.”

“Because that’s what friends do?” 

“Yep.” Daphne couldn’t help the hint of a blush that crept into her pale cheek. She avoided Susan’s amused gaze and concentrated on her tea until Harry emerged from the bedroom ten minutes later, running a towel over his freshly shaved face. 

“What?” he asked, bending to kiss Hermione’s pout. 

“You look better with stubble,” she whispered, melting into the kiss. She whined when Harry pulled away before she could deepen it, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. 

“Great.” Daphne rolled her eyes. “Now he’s never going to shave. You can be needy after we’ve had a chat, Granger. I’ll have him back to you in an hour, mostly unharmed.”

Daphne reached out and grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him away from Hermione before he could kiss her again. Unfortunately, he caught his foot on Hermione’s chair, lost his balance, and came crashing into her. They both tumbled to the floor and Harry landed right on top of her, his face planting right into her bosom.

“What is it with you and my breasts,” Daphne grunted, trying to free herself. She gave up, Harry was much heavier than her and she was well and truly pinned. She stopped wriggling and froze when she felt something big, much bigger than what she had anticipated brush against her thighs. That mental image was saved for later as well and she forced the malicious entity Tracey called her inner slut from conjuring up tantalizing fantasies. She had no plans to make a fool of herself. “If you’ve finished copping a feel can you please get off me?”

“You pulled me!” Harry exclaimed as he got to his feet.

“You fell on them!”

“Don’t you both have Potions at nine?” Susan asked in an amused tone.

“We’re going. Bones, please let your husband play with your bosom more often so he’ll stop groping my chest.”

“I didn’t-” Harry started, but Daphne was already halfway out the door. He grumbled under his breath and followed her. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should start a Dueling Club again?” Hermione murmured. She absentmindedly kept drinking from an empty mug, deep in thought. 

“No, I was thinking that they’re exactly like an old married cou… Wait. Are you thinking about asking Professor Dumbledore to get Lockhart back? I agree even he’d be a massive improvement over Umbridge but wasn’t he pretty useless when it came to actual defensive magic?”

“He was. And no, I doubt Umbridge and the Minister will let Professor Dumbledore replace her with someone else. I meant us. We should start a Dueling Club. What happens if Voldemort or his Death Eaters attack us? They might even get their children to do their dirty work. We need to be prepared for every eventuality.”

“Who will teach us?”

“Harry can. He’s the best dueler I know. Teaching us will force him to study and improve his own skills.”

“It’s a good idea. The only problem is that I doubt Harry will agree to lead the club.”

“We can convince him. The two of us.”

“That we can,” Susan giggled. “Okay, I’ll talk to him in Herbology today. Don’t you have Ancient Runes in an hour? You can shower here if you like.”

“Thank you, but I don’t have spare clothes. I’ll change into last night’s clothes and leave but before I go, do you mind if I scan the apartment for unwanted charms?”

 “Be my guest-” Susan paused and quickly corrected herself. “Actually, don’t be my guest. This is your home,” she said cheerfully. “You can do whatever you like. In fact, I want you to put some clothes and toiletries in a bag and bring them here after today’s classes. I’ll make some room for you in the closet.”

Susan pecked Hermione’s lips and sauntered over to the bedroom, humming happily. 

                                                                                ---

Number 12, Grimmauld Place:

“I don’t care if I’m technically the Head of House Black, I’m not coming.”

Amelia ignored Sirius’ outburst. She was there to get him out of the mausoleum he called home and into a meeting with Cyrus Greengrass. She didn’t have time for his self-pity, not when they had a war to win.

She got up and walked over to the drinks cabinet with her empty glass in hand. She studied the selection on offer, grimacing at the dust coating the shelves and the bottles. 

“This place has certainly changed,” Amelia said as she refilled her glass. She carefully placed the crystal bottle of firewhiskey back in the drinks cabinet and returned to her armchair by the fireplace.

“You don’t approve of the dust and the grime and the general air of neglect?” Sirius chuckled and shook his head at the small frown on Amelia’s face. “It drives my mother crazy.”

“You don’t cut off the nose to spite the face, Sirius.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t shit on Harry’s inheritance because you want to piss off your mother,” Amelia said brusquely. “Look, you need some tough love and since everyone here seems to treat you like a helpless five-year-old, I guess it’s coming from me. The pity party was understandable for the first year. It’s been three years since you’ve been out of Azkaban and you need to stop drinking yourself into an early grave.”

“You don’t understand-” Sirius growled.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Amelia cut him off. “I never will. Just as you won’t understand the pain of raising a child who cried herself to sleep every night for an entire year because she wanted her mama and papa. Do you know how hard it is to explain the concept of death to a small child? Susan came to me and asked me if it was her fault. That maybe she’d been naughty and that’s why they left her.” Amelia leaned back into her sofa and sighed softly. “Everyone has their shit, Sirius. But you find the one thing that keeps you going and focus on it. For me, that’s Susan. It can be revenge for you, that’s fine. Don’t listen to anyone who says otherwise.”

“It’s not revenge. I thought it was but it’s not. I’ve already failed. I failed Harry-”

“Is he dead?”

“What?” Sirius frowned, caught off-guard.

“Is Harry dead? If he isn’t, it’s not too late. That boy has his entire life ahead of him.”

“You’re right,” Sirius muttered after an uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch forever. “Let’s go,” he said, jumping to his feet.

Amelia made a show of looking at him from head to toe.

“Is this how you’re going to meet Lord Greengrass?”

“Shit,” Sirius cursed under his breath. He began to walk out of the study. “I’ll shower and change.”

“And shave!”

“I thought you liked my stubble!”

“Not when we’re going to meet the next Minister of Magic!” 

Notes:

The chapter is mostly world-building with a lot of fun flirting between a lot of different cute couples! I have always felt Sirius would have done better with tough love and real support than the coddling he got. Amelia is definitely that gal for him. Daphne is up to her usual Daphne things while pretending to be completely unaffected by the people around her. In good news, I can bend my knee! It hasn't stopped bleeding yet and I have to changed bandages daily but I can now sit at my desk for extended periods and write!