The Grass Is Always Greener Chapter 26. (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Teasing.

“They came to visit me again.” Harry dragged the stool over to the bedside and plopped down on it with a sigh. The room was comfortable, or as comfortable as a hospital room could be. It seemed… otherworldly. The walls were painted white, as was the bed and the blanket draped over Daphne. A fire flickered in the simple stone fireplace, dimly illuminating the room. It was barely enough to ward off the chill that settled in during the cold spring evenings, not that Harry noticed. He wore a sweater that he vaguely remembered Hermione pushing over his head but like nearly everything else that had happened since the end of the Third Task, her visit to Mungo’s was mostly a blur in his mind.

He hadn’t left her side in three days except to eat and bathe and it was taking a toll on his body. His back was sore but he’d be damned if he left her alone for hours, even if it was to sleep. If that meant spending nights in an armchair, so be it.

He reached out and gently grabbed her hand, threading their fingers together.

Three days of unconsciousness. Of her hovering on death’s door. Of Healers and Unspeakables poking and prodding at her. Of tests and potions and spells he did not understand.

They all said she was slowly getting better but Harry could not see it. She seemed just as lifeless as she had when passed out in his arms at the edge of the maze.

So, despite requests, orders, and even threats, he refused to leave Daphne’s side. He was truly grateful to Cyrus and Amelia for understanding and making the arrangements that allowed him to stay, even if it was against the wishes of everyone from the Healers to Dumbledore.

“Had me repeat the entire story. I don’t know why Dumbledore needed to hear it a third time,” Harry muttered. He gently traced a circle on the back of her hand with his thumb. Her skin was hot. Even though her magic was healing her, she was burning with a fever and no potion seemed to be able to break it.

“Tracey thinks you knew Crouch Jr. was masquerading as Moody. Did you? How could you?” He knew he was talking to himself, but the healers had told him that there was a good chance she could hear him. He did not want her to feel alone. Not the way he did. “I need you to wake up so you can tell me, little viper.”

He bent and brushed his lips against her forehead. Warm. Too warm.

He could have sworn her fingers twitched to stop him from pulling his hand away when he stood. But when he looked at her hand it was as still as ever and nothing appeared to have changed.

“They concentrated on what happened when we got back to Hogwarts this time. I guess now that Fudge’s made sure Crouch is in no condition to testify they wanted to know what he said to me.” Harry carried a small brass bowl of water and a soft cotton cloth and set it on the table next to the bed. “I told them it’s all a blur. You passed out and I was cradling your body. I didn’t even notice him pulling me away until we were halfway to his office.”

Harry dunked the cloth in the water and gently draped it over Daphne’s forehead. She looked peaceful and happy, with a small smile playing on her lips. If he didn’t know she had been on the verge of death he would have been content to leave her like that.

Safe and surrounded by tokens of love.

“He said things I don’t even remember, then he tried to kill me. Your father and Dumbledore burst into the office and subdued him. That’s all I can recall.” Harry shrugged and sat down on the stool again.

“I don’t know why they keep questioning me and arguing with each other,” Harry said softly, closing his eyes as he turned his head to rest his face on her stomach. “Dumbledore isn’t happy your father made me lie to the Minister. I did it because I trust your father, but I have to agree with Dumbledore. We need the Ministry’s help. Fudge has always been nice to me in the past. I should have done what Dumbledore asked me to do and told Fudge everything.”

“He’d have tossed you in Azkaban. Nice little cell right next to Crouch.” The voice was weak, hoarse, and barely audible.

For a second Harry thought he had imagined it. In the sleepless nights keeping vigil over Daphne’s condition, he had allowed himself to believe she was talking back on more than one occasion. But then a hand reached down and weakly pushed through his messy black hair.

“Daphne!” The stool clattered to the floor as Harry sprang to his feet, looking at his girlfriend with wide eyes. He resisted the urge to pull her into a hug. She was tired and her body was too frail for him to do anything that foolish. He had coasted through the Tournament because she had always been there to watch his back, and it had nearly cost her her life.

Harry was done letting the people who loved him put themselves in danger because he refused to do what was necessary.

“Are we in heaven? Please don’t tell me that sorry excuse for a Slytherin got us. I’d never live down that shame.”

Harry stared at her in disbelief for a few seconds before he started laughing. The dam holding back his emotions shattered and everything he hadn’t allowed himself to feel over the last three days swept over him in a single instant. He slumped to his knees next to the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“W-why do you think we’re in heaven, Daphne?” Harry asked softly. He reached out and removed the cloth from her forehead, gazing adorably at her as she tried to lick a trickle of water flowing down her cheek.

“Well, I’m in a white room on a large bed. Exactly what I thought heaven would be like. And you’re here,” Daphne murmured.

“Those are your criteria for determining that a place is heaven?”

“Those are the only things I need for true happiness. Isn’t that what heaven’s meant to be? True happiness?”

Her voice was weak and scratchy. Harry knew he had to get her to stop talking, to go back to sleep and rest until the fever broke but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Aren’t you in pain?” Harry poured water from a jug on the nightstand into a glass and picked it up.

“I’m sore and everything hurts. I’m pretty sure I can’t move. Which is exactly how I’d feel if you had fucked me into a coma,” Daphne teased. She didn’t like the look on his face. It was strange how much her motivations had changed over the period of a single year. She had started out wanting an ally against Malfoy’s schemes, shifted to wanting to keep her idiot friend safe, and now all she wanted was to make sure the man she loved with all her heart was safe and happy.

He didn’t look particularly happy.

She frowned when he didn’t respond to her teasing. Instead, he simply grabbed her hands and gently lifted her off the bed. He wrapped an arm around her back to support her and pushed the glass against her dry and cracked lips. He kept it there until she had drained the glass.

“Can you hold me? Please? It’s cold.” The blanket had fallen away from her body when he had helped her up and she shivered in his arms as gentle streams of cold air beat against the thin white shift covering her body. She waited for him to place the glass back on the nightstand before she turned and looked at him with big puppy dog eyes. She felt a distance between them that she had never experienced before, not even back when they were barely friends.

Harry hesitated for a split second before he climbed into bed. The mattress creaked under his weight as he carefully arranged the pillow against the headrest before leaning against it. He gently shifted Daphne so she was on top of him and pulled her head down on his chest.

“What happened? Where are we?” Daphne asked. She closed her eyes and leaned into Harry, letting him wrap his arms around her.

“A special ward in St. Mungo’s. The curse made your magic behave erratically. They didn’t want to risk other patients getting hurt by placing you in a room close to them.”

“Oh.” Daphne forcefully swallowed the knot in her throat. “You know.”

She wasn’t foolish. If he knew about the curse, she doubted the Healers would have left out the other bit of information. Not that it would have mattered. She had told him about the curse and despite the way he acted in front of the world, she knew he was more than smart enough to put two and two together.

“Yeah. How long?”

“A month. I… I got to know a week before the Task. I missed my period and I borrowed one of those indicator potions from Angelina. You’re angry.”

He didn’t need to admit it. His silence was answer enough.

“Please don’t punish our child for my mistake,” Daphne breathed. Her fingers dug into his chest as she clung to his shirt. If this was the last time she got to hold him, she wanted the memory burned into her mind for the rest of her life. She knew he was far too kind and honorable to leave her in her current condition but she had no doubts he would never want to see her again once she was better.

She tried her best to ignore the grief gripping her heart. The only thing that mattered was the well-being of their child.

“They’re… they’re going to need you. I-I’m not good enough. They need you to teach them to be kind and generous and brave…” Daphne whispered, her voice cracking as tears freely flowed down her cheeks and stained his sweater. “Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave us,” she begged, breaking down in his arms.

“You are the bane of my existence, Daphne Greengrass.” Harry gently cupped her cheek, his thumb carefully brushing away the tears staining her soft skin. “And the object of all my desires. There is no life for me without you. I live for you. I fight for you. I am not going anywhere.”

Daphne peeked up at him through thick lashes, unable to look him in the eye. “And our child?”

“They will have two loving parents. Even if I don’t know the first thing about being one, I will learn.” Harry sighed, the anger that had been building up in him over the course of three days washed away as he gazed down at the guilty expression on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Daphne-”

“No!” Daphne weakly slapped his chest. “It’s my fault. I won’t deny it. I shouldn’t have hidden it from you. But you were going into a deadly maze with a murderer on the loose and I wanted you to focus on that. I didn’t… I couldn’t get you distracted. I knew if I told you you’d abandon your training and spend all your time trying to find a cure for my curse. I knew I was ruining things between us but I could never… I can live with your anger and hatred, Harry. I can’t live in a world that doesn’t have you.”

She was struggling to breathe as she rambled and Harry gently clamped a hand over her lips.

“Hush.”

“You’d have done the same if the situation was reversed,” she mumbled under his hand and rested her head on his chest again. She closed her eyes and concentrated on his heartbeat to calm herself down, reminding herself that stress wasn’t good for the baby.

She, Harry had to admit, had a point.

“You don’t have a monopoly on saving people.” Her chapped lips tickled his skin as she placed tiny kisses on the back of his hand. “I’m allowed to want to protect you.”

“Brat,” Harry whispered fondly. He chuckled tearfully and tightened his hold around her.

“Well, I am the bane of your existence.” Daphne’s heart fluttered when Harry bent and kissed her head.

“And the object of all my desires. You’ve ruined me, Daphne Greengrass.”

“You aren’t going anywhere?” She needed to hear him say it out loud.

“Never. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you, however.”

“I’ll be a good girl for you, daddy.”

“You’ll forget that promise in a day.”

“Then you’ll just have to remind me.”

“Every day?”

Daphne grinned and slowly trapped his calloused finger between her lips. “Every day,” she murmured as she sucked on the digit.

“No more secrets, my little viper.”

Daphne finally looked up at him. Her stiff neck screamed in protest but she nodded seriously. “Not from you.”

Harry smiled and pulled the blanket over their heads, shutting out the rest of the world.

“In the spirit of complete honesty… once I am well, I shall start compiling a list of suitable replacements for me. You will need to go on a few dates over the summer and you cannot say no.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow. “Did you miss the part where I said I wasn’t going anywhere?”

“I didn’t.”

“Is the fever messing with your memory? I just told you that you’ve ruined me for other women, Daphne. What makes you think I’d want to go on a date with anyone else, even if they’re approved by you?”

“When I die the vultures are going to swoop in. I will NOT have a woman like Patricia become the evil stepmother of my child.”

“You’re not going to die, princess.”

Daphne sighed. “Harry, I love how protective you are and I pity the poor man or woman who tries to date our child but I have a year, two at most after they’re born. I want to spend that time loving our baby, not running around in search of a cure that doesn’t exist.”

People said every Slytherin was afraid of death. Daphne found herself being strangely fine with it. Even if she had known the outcome that day when she approached Harry Potter in the library and offered her services, she wouldn’t have changed a single thing.

“Daphne, you’re not going to die because you don’t have the curse.”

“W-what? No. I had all the signs. I tested my blood on the family runestone. I… I… what?” she stammered, feeling light-headed.

“You did. Your mother thinks Voldemort-” he held her tighter when she shivered “-majorly fucked up when he took your blood for the ritual. All magic has a price. He didn’t just take your strength from you, he also took your weakness.”

“My curse,” Daphne breathed. Her eyes widened. “That’s why he collapsed!”

“That’s what we think. Your mother’s Unspeakable friend thinks you passed out because the residual taint of the curse in you was finally weak enough to be expunged by your body. We don’t know much more about what’s happening so the Healers have concentrated on keeping you comfortable and keeping your fever down while your body heals itself.”

“Huh.” Daphne giggled. “I killed him? Do I get a special title and hordes of adoring fans now?”

“Is that what you want?” Harry’s hands ghosted over her curves before coming to rest on the laces at her hips that kept her nightgown together. He toyed with the ribbons, resisting the urge to undo them.

“I just want one adoring fan. I’d be happy with his love.”

“Daphne, I’ll always-”

They were interrupted by the Healer who pushed the door open and walked into the room.

“Wha-” The short bespectacled wizard pushed his glasses further up his nose, utterly confused by the sight in front of him.

Harry pushed the blanket away from their body and smiled sheepishly at the man. “Healer Berwick.”

“Young man! That bed is for the patient! You need to get out right this instant. It is good that Miss Greengrass has regained her consciousness but you cannot tax her body like this!”

Daphne shifted until she was lying entirely on top of him, preventing him from going anywhere. She turned to look at the Healer and cleared her throat, mustering the strength to speak loud enough for the man to hear.

“Healer Berwick, do you know how much Greengrass Potions donates to St. Mungo’s every year?”

The healer blinked before nodding slowly.

“Enough to have a wing named after our family. Do you want us to keep making those donations in the future?” she asked sweetly.

“I suppose close contact with a loved one helps provide the sort of relaxing environment you need, Miss Greengrass,” Berwick mumbled. He blushed furiously as he continued. “But you cannot do any… any hanky panky. You need your rest and this is still a hospital!”

Harry grinned. “I promise you, Healer Berwick, there will be no hanky panky at all.”

“How long do I have to stay here?” Daphne asked as the man checked up on her with a series of examination spells.

“A week more, at the very least,” Berwick replied once he was done examining her. He picked up the chart from the table next to her bed and quickly adjusted the regimen of potions she was supposed to take.

He was nearly out of the door when Daphne realized she had one more question for him.

“The baby,” she called out, stopping him in his tracks. “Is it alright?”

“Babies, Miss Greengrass,” Healer Berwick said with a barely suppressed smile. He turned around, not wanting to miss the stunned expression on their faces. “And yes. Healer Serafina tells me they’re both healthy and growing normally. She’ll check on you in the morning.”

He chuckled as he left the room and shut the door behind him, leaving the young parents to digest the bombshell he had just dropped.

                                                                           ---

Greengrass Cottage, Cornwall:

“Wow. You’ve gone properly domestic.” Tracey rolled her eyes and pushed her legs off the chair in response to her best friend’s glare. “It was nice of your parents to lend you their cottage in Cornwall.”

“Healer Berwick suggested it. Some place by the sea. It’s soothing. He thought I’d recover faster if I was away from the excitement of London or the stress that comes with living in Aberny Hall. My grandmother has come to visit and you know how she gets.”

“I still remember her whacking my legs with her walking stick because I had ‘knobbly’ knees.”

“Exactly. Harry has enough going on in his life without having to worry about my grandmother.”

“What does she want? It’s not like her to leave her evil lair and make the journey down to meet with her ‘disappointment’ of a son.”

“My father in his infinite wisdom decided to tell her about her grandchildren.”

Tracey gave Daphne a look that clearly said, ‘seriously?’

“Yeah. Don’t worry, they’re never meeting her.” Daphne groaned softly and pushed her chair away from the table. “Let me,” she murmured as she walked over to the stove to attend to the whistling kettle. “Healer Berwick said it would be good for me to move around the house after three weeks in a bed. I like to do light chores, it keeps me busy. Harry won’t let me do anything more.”

“How’s he taking the news?”

“Much better than I am. It’s… it’s a shock. I mean, we thought one baby was years away, let alone two.”

“You two ever figure out how it happened? I mean, you were on the potion, right?”

Daphne reached up and retrieved two mugs from the cabinet above the stove and placed them on a tray. She added a bowl of sugar, a small pitcher of milk, and the strainer with the mixture of tea and herbs she had prepared before placing the kettle on it.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was fate. Without them, we wouldn’t have survived that night in the graveyard. They saved us before they were even born.” Daphne smiled as she carried the tray over to the table. “Harry tells me to stop worrying about it.”

“He has a point. You two are going to be great parents.”

“Harry, I can believe. He’s a natural parent. I’m not going to be a good mom, Trace. I lie, I scheme, and I don’t have a maternal bone in my body.”

“Sure you do,” Tracey said softly. She leaned forward and gently squeezed Daphne’s hand. “You saw a scared girl you didn’t know being bullied on your first night in Hogwarts and braved death to keep her safe. Your children are going to be the happiest and safest babies in the world.”

Daphne gave her best friend a shy smile.

“Do you know what you’re going to name them?”

“We don’t even know what they are yet. They could be two boys, two girls, or one of each,” Daphne explained, pouring a cup of tea for Tracey. “Healer Serafina is going to tell us during our appointment next month.”

Tracey nodded and lifted her cup to take a sip. As soon as the hot liquid touched her tongue she grimaced and dribbled it back into the cup. “What the hell is this Daph?!”

“Tea? Mama’s been on my ass about learning how to cook a little before marriage so I’ve been trying to learn.” Daphne pointed to the open cookbook on the kitchen counter. “Is it bad?”

“It’s disgusting.”

Daphne stared at her, shocked. “I’ve been making this twice a day for Harry. He always drank it without saying anything,” she said in a horrified whisper.

“Yeah, well, I don’t love you as much as he does. It’s horrible.”

Tracey chuckled at the look of utter devastation on her friend’s face.

“Relax. Most women consider it a good sign when their man loves them enough not to complain about their cooking. Seriously though, do you not taste what you make?”

“It’s tea… I don’t drink tea, remember? Since I can’t have coffee-” Daphne gestured at her stomach “-I’ve been sticking to water. I’m a failure as a wife before we’ve even married,” Daphne said glumly.

“You two have gotten disgustingly dramatic ever since you started dating. The old Daphne would have smacked you in the face for that stupid statement.” Tracey rolled her eyes and playfully slapped Daphne’s hand. “He’s not going to marry you for your cooking. He’s going to do it because he loves your intelligence, your beautiful smile.” Tracey pointedly lowered her gaze to Daphne’s chest. “And your bountiful assets.”

“If I’ve gotten dramatic since I started dating Harry you’ve become an unrepentant horndog ever since George started slipping it to you,” Daphne huffed even though there was a smile on her face. “Hermione told me she caught you two in a rather compromising position on the train ride back home.”

“She’s exaggerating. We were just changing out of our uniforms.”

“While you were on top of him?”

“A button on my blouse got stuck. George was helping me undo it,” Tracey replied primly. She poured herself a glass of water and took a sip.

“With his dick?”

“His dick can do amazing things.”

The two girls stared at each other for a few seconds before collapsing into a fit of giggles.

“Speaking of amazing dicks, have you gotten any yet?” Tracey asked bluntly as she wiped tears from her eyes.

“Nope. The Healers have cleared me but Harry still treats me like I’m glass. We dance, we cuddle, he kisses me hard enough that I see stars,” Daphne said with a small smile. The week they had spent in the cottage away from the rest of the world had been absolutely perfect. A part of her never wanted summer to end.

“But not that.”

Daphne pouted and shook her head.

“Ouch.”

“I have two babies in here.” Daphne gestured at her belly. “In three months I’m going to be waddling around everywhere and I’ll be extremely unattractive to the man I love. I just want some fun before he doesn’t feel like touching me anymore.”

“Oh, please,” Tracey snorted. “I know a lot about you two, most of which I’ve learned against my will. That man has a family kink the size of a barn. He’s going to walk around with a permanent boner when you’re Daphne Potter and you’re waddling around with his buns in your oven.”

“Still,” Daphne murmured, playing with a coaster. “We won’t be able to be as… adventurous as we are now. He spends his days learning from father and training with Tonks. I want to help him relax in the evenings while I can.”

“Then you’ll just have to make him see the error of his ways,” Tracey said, draining the glass of water. She stood and leaned over to kiss Daphne’s cheek. “Play out his favorite fantasy. I speak from experience when I say no man can resist that.”

“Leaving so soon?” Daphne asked, following Tracey through the living room and to the door.

“Hermione’s in town with her parents. They’re attending some work thing, I’m going to teach her how to use the floo so she can talk to Viktor. I’ll give her your love!”

Daphne leaned against the doorway and watched Tracey walk down the dirt path to the white picket fence that formed the boundary of the wards her parents and Bill Weasley had set up around the cottage. Once she crossed it she paused for a second, then apparated away.

“Right. Fantasy.”

Daphne closed the door, her face scrunched up in concentration as she tried to think of Harry’s biggest fantasy. It didn’t take her too long.

Family kink the size of a barn.

She grinned and ran up to their bedroom as fast as her legs would carry her. She wasted no time in stripping off her blouse, jeans, and underwear before turning to study her figure in their vanity’s mirror.

She gently bounced her heavy breasts. She didn’t think it was possible but they had not only grown in size but also become more sensitive. Even the slightest stimulation set the milk flowing and Harry had taken to drinking from her nearly every night so she didn’t walk around leaking all day. Daphne bit her lip as she pinched her stiff, pink nipples, resisting the urge to tug and roll them.

Making a mess alone was nowhere as much fun as it would be with Harry.

Her belly had the slightest curve, easily hidden by her clothes and imperceptible unless she was naked. She suppressed a shiver of excitement as she caressed the gentle curve.

As terrified as she was by the thought of being a horrible mother, Harry wasn’t the only one who couldn’t wait for the birth of their precious babies.

“You’re not going to know a day of pain and sorrow in your life,” Daphne vowed as she caressed her stomach. “Not like we did. Your papa and I would burn down the world to keep you two safe.”

She kissed her fingers before pressing them to her stomach. Her one-sided conversation over, she padded over to her closet and pulled open the doors. She rifled through her clothes, quickly discarding everything until she found what she was looking for.

Daphne pulled the semi-sheer white silk nightgown over her head and walked over to the mirror to study her reflection once more. It was a staple in every Pureblood wife’s closet and her mother had made her buy one while they had gone shopping for everything she’d need to make the cottage their home earlier in the week.

She hadn’t understood the point back then. It was far too conservative for her to wear in bed with Harry (who she knew from experience liked her either in costumes or lacy lingerie). It had a straight neckline, completely covered her bust, and ran down to her ankles.

Sure, the thin fabric teased and tantalized but she hadn’t considered it to be particularly sexy. Until now.

“The point,” Daphne said, speaking to a nonexistent audience. “Is not to be seductive. The point is to be a wife.”

She sat down on the ottoman in front of the vanity and started to work on her makeup. Nothing too heavy, she decided, mostly focusing on mascara to highlight her smoky eyes and the perfect coat of ruby-red lipstick to make her lips pop.

She smacked her lips and leaned back to study her handiwork with a pleased smile.

She glanced at the buttplug on the vanity and the leg spreader leaning against it, trying to decide if she wanted to use them.

“Nope,” she murmured, shaking her head. She wasn’t trying to be kinky, she wasn’t trying to seduce him. Tonight, all she was going to be was Harry Potter’s wife and the mother of his children.

She freed her hair from her ponytail and gathered up her golden curls, draping them over her left shoulder and letting them freely cascade down her body.

Next, she picked up the exquisitely crafted black leather collar he had ordered specially for her and carefully locked it around her slender neck.

Lastly, she opened the top drawer of the vanity and studied her collection of rings. She smiled as she picked up a simple platinum one with a single flawless Ruby. She slipped it on, not on her index or middle finger like she normally did, but on her ring finger.

“You’ll have to do until things settle down and we actually have the time to plan a proper proposal, engagement, and marriage,” she murmured as she held up her hand to study the ring on her finger.

She stood and kicked off her slippers before looking around the bedroom to make sure it looked presentable. Satisfied, she padded downstairs and whiled away the next hour practising her Charms homework by burning every cookbook her mother had made her buy and calling Dobby to ask him if he could drop by once a week to teach her how to cook.

By the time Harry arrived home, she was waiting for him at the doorway.

The pink-haired Auror who had escorted him home grinned at the sight waiting for him at the entrance to his house.

“Do you want to come in for a butterbeer Tonks? Feels rude to make you work like a glorified taxi,” Harry offered, his attention still fixed on his mentor.

“Another time, Potter.”

“You sure?”

“Definitely.” Tonks grinned and winked at Daphne.

She patted Harry’s shoulder and turned around, walking back down the pathway as fast as she could. She wasn’t quick enough.

Nymphadora Tonks smirked at the surprised gasp behind her, followed by the sounds of passionate kissing seconds later.

Notes:

The next two chapters are going to be some of the hottest I've ever written, which is saying something! There will be a lot of, to quote Healer Berwick, hanky panky. If you want to binge read them both remember to vote for The Grass Is Always Greener in the poll I'll be releasing in a bit! Someone commented that Tonks would make a fun older sister for Harry in stories where they're not a couple so that is what we're going for in this story! Someone also called this a fairytale and yeah, it is! I don't like huge amounts of angst in this story!