February 2024 Exclusive Poll Winner - Memories -Harry/Daphne (Patreon)

AN: This could have been several thousand words longer, but I hope you enjoy it for what it is!

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“It isn’t looking good,” a sad-looking face said.

“The healers have been in with him for the last three hours,” someone said from behind her.

“If you need anything from us…”

The words faded in Daphne Potter’s mind as quickly as they arrived there. She felt like she couldn’t so much as breathe as she rushed through the corridors of St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. There were at least half a dozen Aurors surrounding her, escorting her to the room her husband was being treated in. 

Countless curious faces of waiting patients and their family members stared at the group as they passed through the ground floor reception. Daphne wanted to curse them all for their lack of decorum in a place like this, but that would mean delaying how quickly she could see her husband. The Aurors who’d been on the mission with him didn’t know most of the curses he’d been struck by when the floor collapsed from underneath him and he fell into a basement room filled with dark witches and wizards. From the pale, sickened looks on their faces, Daphne knew that he couldn’t be in a good place right now.

If he died on her today…

No, Daphne wouldn’t have it. She was married to Harry Bloody Potter. If there was anyone who could defy the odds and survive even the most horrific curses imaginable, it was him.

A pair of witches behind the reception desk spotted the approaching group. Concern filled their faces when they saw the swarm of Aurors arriving, but when they saw Daphne in the middle of the group, their looks turned to sorrow. Everyone knew who Daphne was. Even if she hadn’t made a name for herself in the Wizengamot by challenging the outdated, bigoted practices that the ‘esteemed’ body clung to, her marriage to the Wizarding World’s saviour had been covered by every major publication in Britain for weeks. 

No one needed to explain why Daphne was here; it was clear that all of the staff in the building knew that Harry Potter was fighting for his life in the Emergency Ward. The two witches hurried to unlock a pair of doors beside the reception desk and ushered the group through.

The Emergency Ward was a jumbling maze of narrow corridors that were painted a shockingly bright white. Blue, green, and yellow stripes ran along the walls, guiding doctors and patients to various areas within the Emergency Ward. 

Daphne’s eyes fell upon the one her husband was surely in: Curse, Hex, and Jinx Treatment.

The sound of her heels clinking as they hit the floor melded in with the sounds of the Auror’s boots hitting the floor. The rumble of their approach mirrored the pounding of Daphne’s heart in her chest as she dreaded what she was about to see. Despite this, she didn’t shy away or hesitate in the slightest. She’d known that marrying Harry could lead to her one day finding him in a place like this—she’d just hoped it wouldn’t have happened so soon.

Daphne knew that they found the right place when they turned a corner and saw nearly twenty healers standing around out in the corridor. They all had various different distinctions on their uniforms. Some had badges denoting that they were from the Janus Thickey ward. Others had Alchemist Necklaces of gold and silver, which they were required to make to graduate their program. 

“Mrs Potter,” one of the healers said as she looked up at the approaching group. Instantly, the group of healers fell silent, and the Aurors all stepped aside to allow Daphne to pass by.

“How is he?” Daphne asked, ignoring any preamble.

The look on the healer’s face told Daphne everything she needed to know. Her breath caught in her throat, and she dug her nails into the palm of her hand to regain some semblance of control over herself.

“It’s best if you come into the room and see for yourself. There’s a lot that needs to be explained,” the healer said sympathetically.

As Daphne walked alongside the healer, the other healers all stepped aside and bowed their heads low as they passed. It was the type of sympathy you’d give to a widow, but if that was the case, surely they would have told her that he was dead already.

Still, the fear crept inside of Daphne’s chest and took hold there. She didn’t take a single breath the entire short walk over to the threshold that led into the private room.

Before the healer opened the door, she turned back to Daphne. “Whatever you do, don’t touch him,” she warned her. “We’re still waiting for some potions to work their way through his system to counteract some of the nasty curses he got hit by, and any foreign magic could interfere with the potions.”

Daphne nodded in understanding. “Just let me see him,” she practically begged.

The healer hesitated just the slightest bit before she opened the door and let Daphne step inside.

The stark white room was dotted with blood. It was the first thing that Daphne noticed. It seemed as though no surface, no nook or cranny had been safe from having at least a single droplet of blood landing on it. It was all dried now, but it gave the room a terrifying look.

There was a single operating table in the middle of the room, which had clearly been freshly cleaned. A bed had been brought into the room, and it sat just behind the table. Faintly, Daphne could just barely make out a bandaged form lying on it.

She walked into the room, holding her breath, and hurried around the operating table to the far side where Harry was.

A wave of nausea overcame Daphne. The room spun, and the edges of her vision brightened and started to turn white. The healer was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arm strongly and helping her remain on her feet.

“It’s okay,” she said comfortingly. “He’s alive.”

He didn’t look like it, Daphne thought to herself. She’d been staring at him for several seconds and his chest never moved, not even once.

Most of Harry’s body was wrapped up tightly in bandages. The only parts that were still exposed were his head and his hands. His golden wedding band gleamed in the bright, overhead lights. The exposed parts of his body had thick, white scar tissue crisscrossing all over each other. His head had been shaved clean, and his eyebrows were gone too.

“We had to give him the Draught of Living Death to let his body heal properly,” the healer explained. “He’s out of the danger zone now, but we need to keep him under like this for another week or so.”

Daphne nodded her head, feeling like she was merely perceiving the world from an outsider’s point of view rather than actually being in the room with her husband and the healer. 

“We’re clearing some space for him in the Janus Thickey Ward,” the healer continued. “He’s stable, so we’ll move him there and let him rest until it’s time to wake him up.”

“When will you be moving him?” Daphne asked with a surprisingly even tone.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the healer answered. “We wanted to give you a moment with him first.”

“Move him now,” Daphne told her firmly.

The healer looked a little taken aback by the tone of Daphne’s voice, but she just nodded anyway. “You can meet us up there, and I’ll have someone—”

“I’ll come with him,” Daphne said in a tone that indicated there’d be no arguing the matter.

A pair of healers came into the room and floated the bed together. Daphne and the healer walked behind them as they headed out the door and down the maze-like corridors. All the while, the healer was explaining more of Harry’s current condition to Daphne, some of the curses and injuries he’d suffered, and what his recovery time would look like, but none of the words reached Daphne’s mind. Her entire focus was split between keeping her body moving and staring at her husband like it was the last chance she’d ever have.

They took a lift up to the fourth floor. Thankfully, the corridors they needed to take up here had been cleared of everyone except for another healer. He introduced himself to Daphne as the man who’d be Harry’s primary healer during his stint in the Janus Thickey Ward. He gave her his name, but it passed through Daphne’s mind as easily as everyone else’s names had today.

They placed his bed down in the small, private room underneath a window that overlooked a green park across the road. There was a small bedside table with a tall, thin vase with red and yellow flowers in it, another table where meals were served, and a pair of comfortable-looking chairs against the wall.

Even though the new healer was still talking to her, Daphne just walked right past him and pulled up a chair to Harry’s bedside. She was as close to him as she dared without risking accidentally touching him.

“I’d like a moment alone, please,” Daphne said politely, interrupting the man in the middle of his sentence.

He seemed to understand though. “Just call if you need anything. I’ll be around in an hour to bring his next dose of potions.”

The door clicked closed, and Daphne sobbed into her hands.

When the healers returned with the next dose of potions, they found that Daphne had transfigured their nice chairs into a bed for herself. They weren’t happy, but Daphne didn’t care. They weren’t going to take her away from her husband’s side for even a moment.

A week passed by, and they told Daphne that they’d need to keep him under for a bit longer. That had been a difficult pill to swallow, but Daphne wasn’t about to question the witches and wizards who were keeping her husband alive. So, she waited longer.

Guests visited, offering their sympathies. Everyone from the Minister of Magic to his best friends, Ron and Hermione, visited. Reporters tried to get in too, but the staff at St Mungo’s had done an admirable job of ensuring that Harry had all the privacy he needed to recover in peace.

It was a difficult time waiting. Daphne did all of her work in Harry’s room at St Mungo’s and sent it into the Ministry via an owl to one of her assistants to handle. She only kept working to keep her mind too busy to spiral downward from grief at seeing her husband like this. It got a bit easier to handle once they started removing some of his bandages and seeing his hair start to grow back, but Daphne knew that she wouldn’t be content until she could hold him in her arms again.

Then, her spirits had lifted when they stopped giving Harry the Draught of Living Death one day at noon. The healers said that he’d be awake within twenty-four hours, and they kept healers on standby just in case he woke up in the middle of the night.

Daphne hadn’t slept a wink all night. She’d just laid down on her side and stared across the room at Harry. The moment he woke up, the last potion would be out of his system, and she’d finally be able to touch him again. Even though it had only been a couple of weeks, she’d forgotten what it felt like to hold Harry in her arms. She wanted so desperately to touch him again, to see him smile at her, and to hear his voice just one more time.

She ate breakfast in silence, full of nervous anticipation. Healers were coming into the room every fifteen minutes to check up on him, and each time they did, they told Daphne that he looked ready to wake up any time now.

The sun’s rays illuminated Harry on his bed. Daphne wondered if it was the warmth on his skin that did it or if it was from how bright the lights were, but she saw his nose crinkle and his eyes start to flutter open.

Daphne couldn’t help herself; she leapt onto Harry’s bed and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso, sobbing into his chest worse than she ever had in her life. She cried and cried, telling him how much she missed him, how much she loved him, and how happy she was that he was finally back with her.

She should have realised that something was wrong when she didn’t feel him hugging her back or hear his voice, but she’d been so caught up in her emotions that she hadn’t noticed.

Minutes later, when she finally pulled away from him, she felt like she was staring into the eyes of a stranger.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said with a nervous smile on his lips. “But who are you?”

“It’s me,” Daphne said, laughing like it was a joke. “Daphne.”

There was no recognition in his eyes. His smile turned from nervous to slightly embarrassed. 

“Right,” he nodded slowly, trying to quickly process everything. He licked his lips and glanced around the room as though he was searching for something.

“How are you feeling?” Daphne asked him, smiling brightly.

“Odd,” he answered honestly.

“I’m not surprised after what you went through,” Daphne told him. “But I’m so glad that you’re back now.”

She leaned in for a kiss, only to feel her lips meet nothing but air. She cracked open her eyes to find that Harry was stretching his head away from her.

“Harry, what are you doing?” She asked him concernedly.

“I…” he hesitated, looking around again. “Who are you again?”

A flutter of panic filled her chest. “I’m Daphne.”

“Right, you said that,” Harry said as his own burst of anxiety appeared on his face. “But who are you to me?”

“I’m your wife,” Daphne exclaimed quickly.

Harry just stared at her blankly, unsure if she was lying or not.

“I have a wife?” He finally said.

Daphne couldn’t help it. She leaned over Harry’s bedside and threw up on the floor just as a pair of healers came in to check on them. The panic in her eyes must have told them that something was wrong because they quickly called for more healers to come over.

Daphne climbed off of Harry and staggered out of the room in a disoriented state. Her husband didn’t know who she was? What sort of sick joke was this? Or was this just some lingering effects? Something that’d wear off in a day or two once he’d had time to readjust? She didn’t know, and nothing she said to herself made her feel any better about the whole situation.

She rushed to the nearest washroom and locked herself inside of it as her breathing came faster and faster now. She was staring at herself in the mirror, watching the frustrated and terrified tears roll down her cheeks as she started to hyperventilate. There was a knock at the door, but Daphne couldn’t convince her legs to move. The knocking grew louder and louder as Daphne’s breathing became shallower and shallower.

Then, as she fainted, the door burst inward.

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Harry stayed at St Mungo’s for several more days as the healers there ran a gamut of tests on him. Daphne was torn between wanting to be there from her husband and wanting to run away from the reality that he didn’t know her anymore. Her heart felt like it was crumbling with each passing day that he looked at her with confusion and unfamiliarity in his eyes. Ultimately though, she decided that she had to be there for him.

Things were perhaps made a little bit easier due to the fact that Harry didn’t seem to know anybody at all. All of his friends and family were able to understand what Daphne was going through so much better because of that, and even if they couldn’t fix the problem, they could at least lean on each other for support.

The healers at St Mungo’s initially expressed confusion and concern over his apparent amnesia, but deeper tests with mind healers confirmed it to be genuine. They expressed that this was a complicated case without any genuine precedent. Whatever curse caused this was likely a secret curse that was kept hidden from the world by whichever family created it. As such, they could only treat him as they would anyone who’d been struck by a memory charm or some similar spell. 

After subsequent tests, the healers thankfully confirmed that Harry’s amnesia was temporary. They were able to detect his mind trying to repair itself and succeeding in small pieces at a time. Their best estimate was that he would be stuck in this state for a couple of months, but that was still just an estimate. No one could say with any real certainty that it wouldn’t take longer, or that his mind would fully repair itself to where it’d once been.

It was bittersweet news for Daphne. On one hand, her husband would eventually return to her, but it was going to take a long time. Still, she was sure that she could muster the strength to get through this. Harry had always been there for her during her darkest times, and she wasn’t going to do anything but act like the perfect, supportive wife to him.

Given that all of his injuries were healed, the healers at St Mungo’s released Harry into Daphne’s care. Potions would regularly be delivered to their home for Harry to take until he was better. Otherwise, they would have weekly checkups at St Mungo’s where they’d run their tests on him again to see how much progress he was making.

It hurt Daphne to see the fear in Harry’s eyes when they told him he had to leave St Mungo’s. This was the only place he’d known since he woke. No matter how much she and their friends tried to jog his memories about his life, nothing seemed to spark a moment of remembrance in his eyes. 

Daphne was just waiting for him now as he got dressed into some robes she’d brought for him. It felt odd having to wait out in the corridor while he got changed—it was just like what she used to make him do when they first started dating. He took a long time, and Daphne figured he was probably trying to delay the inevitable, but, eventually, Harry stepped out of the room.

For a moment, he looked just as Daphne had remembered. His short, messy hair was back, and he had his ever-present stubble on his face that Daphne had to bug him about to get him to shave. He looked like he’d just stepped out of the bathroom, ready to start another day of work at the Ministry, but then his eyes found hers and Daphne remembered that this wasn’t the same Harry that she knew.

“Are you ready to head home?” She asked him, trying to put on a cheerful tone.

Harry just nodded in reply. He didn’t speak much to anyone. He seemed too busy taking in the world around him to bother to formulate any sentences about any of it. Daphne missed his voice.

Daphne guided him down the corridors, waving goodbye to the staff who’d been so wonderful to her and Harry. Harry waved goodbye too, but his face was full of apprehension and fear.

“Come along now,” Daphne said soothingly when Harry stopped just before the lift that would take them down to the ground floor. He was looking back over his shoulder at the rest of the ward, the healers hurrying about to handle their patients. He looked wistful. “Harry?”

He turned back to her and strode right into the lift.

The trip down was made in silence. Everything felt so strange and new and yet familiar at the same time. Daphne didn’t know how to make small talk with the love of her life when he didn’t recognise her.

When the doors to the lift swung open, dozens of shutters went off. The press was there in full force, and the contingent of Aurors who were there were struggling to hold everyone back.

Harry froze in place as the flashes of light exploded all around him. Daphne heard his breathing start to pick up as he began to panic, so she grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

“It’s okay,” she assured him softly. “Stay with me and we’ll get through this.”

He clung closely to her as she guided him past everyone. A few Aurors gave them looks or tried to meet Harry’s gaze to see if he remembered any of them.

He didn’t.

They reached one of the large fireplaces. While Harry had forgotten his life and everyone he knew, he hadn’t forgotten anything about magic or how to function as a person. He grabbed a fistful of floo powder and readied himself to throw it down into the fire, only to stop himself when he realised that he didn’t know where they were going.

“Potter Cottage,” Daphne told him encouragingly.

“Potter Cottage,” Harry repeated as he threw down the floo powder.

Together, the two of them stepped into the flames.

A moment later, they were spat out in their living room. Harry stumbled out of the fireplace like he always did, and Daphne caught him before he could faceplant on the coffee table like she always did.

Once he was on steady feet, Daphne took a step away from Harry to give him the space he needed to acclimate to this new place. If there was one thing she’d learnt about dealing with this new Harry, it was that he liked his own space to figure things out. He didn’t like being touched unless it was necessary, and even then he wasn’t particularly happy about it.

Daphne watched him as his eyes scanned the room. It was a small, intimate living room with a couple of sofas and several chairs. There were two small bookshelves filled to the brim with new and ancient tomes. A magical wireless sat atop one of the bookshelves, which they frequently listened to in the evenings together. The room was decorated nicely with bright colours and several flowering plants that livened up the room. A window in one of the walls looked out onto the front garden and the hedge that surrounded it. Daphne knew that there were reporters beyond that hedge, but the wards they’d placed on their home prevented anyone from looking in or them from looking out.

“Would you like to see the rest of the house?” Daphne asked him politely.

Again, Harry just nodded.

So, Daphne took the time to narrate as they walked.

“This is the kitchen,” she explained as she guided them to the next room over. The kitchen was nice and bright thanks to several windows that looked out into the back garden. “This is more your domain than it is mine; you love to cook and bake things.”

Daphne had hoped that her words would spark some remembrance within him, but they didn’t. He just nodded as he absorbed the information without any sign of an emotional connection returning. 

“Through here is the dining room,” she continued, pushing open a white door to reveal the nice room. It had a long table that sat twelve people, which was regularly filled when they had friends and family over. She closed the door and walked back through the kitchen. “Out there is the back garden,” she said as she pointed to a sliding glass door. “I grow magical plants out there for us to use, but you help me out sometimes.”

They continued down to the front entrance where a simple closet held their heavier robes and various shoes.

“We have a guest bedroom through there and a bathroom here,” she pointed at the two doors to the right of the base of the stairs in turn. Then she pointed to the door to the left of the stairs. “And a training room through there.”

“A training room?” Harry asked quietly.

Daphne lit up in joy. He was finally showing some interest!

“It’s your training room mostly,” Daphne explained as she opened the door. The room was decently large but very bare. Several scorch-mark covered training dummies stood in the middle of the room while some exercise equipment littered the edges of it. “You train in here for your work as an Auror. You like to keep in shape a lot, and sometimes I duel in here with you. You let me win sometimes, but I pretend not to notice.”

Daphne felt her eyes starting to water. Why did she have to explain all of this to the man that she loved? Why couldn’t he just be back to the way he was?

She blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. “The rest of the house is upstairs,” she said once she was back in control of herself.

Daphne led him upstairs. There were only four doors up here. 

“This is one of the bathrooms, and this is my potions lab,” Daphne said as she pointed to two doors in turn. “Over here is another guest bedroom, and then this is our room.”

She left the decision of where to explore next up to Harry, but much to her surprise and delight, he headed for their bedroom. He seemed so careful as he turned the door handle and pushed open the door.

Their bedroom was tastefully designed, as the rest of the house was, but it was surprisingly sparse. Harry had a tendency towards creating clutter and mess wherever he was able to—except in the kitchen, where he still ran a tight, clean ship due to his relatives’ expectations of him growing up—so they’d made the decision to keep the room nice and open to prevent any of that from happening. 

Their large bed took up a significant portion of the room. The luxurious, greyish-blue quilted bedspread had been a gift from Daphne’s sister, Astoria, and it fit the room perfectly. They had a wide ottoman at the end of the bed, which they stored their travel trunks underneath. Two large windows flanking the bed overlooked the beautiful back garden, and Harry and Daphne each had their own small bookshelves underneath them. There was a small desk that they shared along one of the walls with a walk-in closet beside it. In the opposite wall, a doorway led into their bathroom.

Daphne hadn’t been back here since Harry’s accident. The room was exactly the same as it had been the morning that she’d left for work; Harry even still had a pair of trousers he’d promised to pick up later laying across his side of the bed. Daphne strode across the room, picked them up, and folded them neatly for him.

Harry watched her curiously as she carried his trousers and put them back on his shelf in the closet.

“Sorry,” she said, unable to mask a grimace. “You’d meant to put them away the morning before everything happened.”

Harry just nodded again. She couldn’t begin to imagine what he was thinking right now. He didn’t know who she was or who he was before all of this. It must have felt like he was walking into someone else’s life.

Slowly, Harry walked the length of the room, examining it carefully. Daphne noticed how he stuck close to the left side of the bed, the side that he slept on. He seemed… confused, uncertain, awkward.

She’d figured it’d be like this. In the time since he woke back up, Daphne had forced herself to come to terms with the fact that things would be different now. In a couple months, his mind would hopefully be repaired and they’d be back to how they used to be, but even that wasn’t a guarantee.

There was nothing more that she wanted than to leap into his arms and hold him and cry, but she needed to be the strong one right now. Harry was in a more vulnerable state than she’d ever seen him before, and she was going to do her best to make things as easy as she could for him.

“I know this is a lot for you to handle,” Daphne spoke up, drawing Harry out of whatever thoughts were running through his mind. He looked up at her with a blank expression on his face. “But I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” came his muttered reply.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest bedroom down the hall,” Daphne told him, trying to hide the sadness from her voice. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry quickly said. “I can stay there.”

Daphne shook her head at him. “No, it’s better this way. You need your own space, and… well… it’s stupid, but I was hoping that you staying in our room might help jog your memories back faster.”

He seemed to understand, but he didn’t give much of a reply beyond a slight grunt in acknowledgement.

Harry was quiet as Daphne started packing up her essentials. She didn’t take all of her stuff out of her room, but she did take most of her toiletries and several garments of clothing that she needed for work and casual wear on the weekends. She’d come back and get more if she needed to, but for now, this would do.

On her wait out of the room, she hesitated by the bed. The second that Harry looked away, she swapped her pillow with his and added his pillow to her pile of stuff she was taking with her. If she wasn’t going to be in the same bed as him anymore, she at least wanted to have his pillow with her. She could still smell his aftershave on it.

She carried everything over to the guest room before she came back to their old room, finding Harry sitting down with one of their wedding photos in his hand. Daphne remembered that photo well. They’d been standing in front of her family’s manor just a few minutes or so after they’d gotten officially married. Everyone had gone inside of Greengrass Manor for the reception and supper after the ceremony had ended, but the two of them had walked out in front of the manor for a moment alone. They’d been kissing and dancing in each other’s arms when Astoria had shown up looking for them and demanded that she take a picture to capture this beautiful moment. Astoria made it more dramatic than it had actually been by conjuring flower petals and having them dance around them while they danced, but it’d still been one of Daphne’s favourite memories of their wedding day.

Harry was staring down at it with an unreadable expression on his face, and Daphne felt herself choke up at the sight of it again. She wanted her Harry back, the one who’d danced with her that day.

“I’m surprised that our house is as small as it is,” Harry commented quietly as he looked up at her, holding up the photo. “This is your parent’s house, right? Where you grew up? Why did we move here instead of a house more like this?”

Daphne’s expression softened. It was Harry’s decision to move here more than it was hers, but she’d supported him wholeheartedly in it.

She sat down on the bed next to Harry, and he turned himself to face her, obviously interested in her response.

“You wanted to move to the village your parents lived in when they had you,” Daphne explained gently.

Harry nodded like it made perfect sense. “Do they live close by?” Then his brow furrowed, and Daphne knew that he was wondering why they hadn’t visited him in the hospital.

“They died when you were a baby,” Daphne told him bluntly, knowing that was how her Harry preferred to hear bad news. “There was a dark wizard who targeted them, and they died protecting you. Their house was mostly destroyed in the attack.”

“Oh.”

Harry didn’t look especially sad about what she’d said. Without his memories, he didn’t have an emotional connection to his parents of their sacrifice.

“You always told me how important they were to you,” Daphne continued. “Their legacy has always been a big part of your life, and you wanted to honour them in any way you could. So, you rebuilt their house.”

Harry hadn’t lost an ounce of his cleverness. He understood the unspoken statement in Daphne’s words. He looked all around the room and then back to her. “This is it?”

Daphne nodded her head with a sad smile. “It’s not an exact replica, but it’s what you wanted. You came by every day that the house was being built just to check up on the construction and make sure it was being done respectfully. When it was done and we walked through it for the first time, you couldn’t stop smiling and crying.”

Daphne blinked her eyes rapidly to clear away the tears that were forming in them.

“You told me that you wanted to start a family here, just like your parents did. We decided to wait to have kids until we were both more settled in our careers and a bit older, but you wanted to move in right away. So we did, and we were so happy.”

The dam finally burst, and Daphne leapt to her feet. She muttered some apologies she barely remembered saying and rushed out of the room while Harry just sat there in shock. She made it into the guest bedroom, locked the door, put up a silencing charm, and sobbed into Harry’s pillow.

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The world was starting to become more familiar for him. With each passing day, Harry’s comfortability with his home grew. He’d met dozens of people for the first time over the last few weeks—well, he supposed it wasn’t actually for the first time. They were people from his life before all of this. Before he lost his memories.

It’d taken quite a bit of adjustment to understand the gravity of the situation. To him, he simply woke up one day. Sure, he’d been confused by all of the strange faces and the people visiting him, but it didn’t feel like anything had been taken away from him. Even though he didn’t have any memories of what came before that day that he woke, that was… fine? 

But while it was fine for him, he could see how distressed everyone around him was. People in St Mungo’s had looked at him with sad eyes, and quite a few visitors had shown just how devastated they were over his current state. It wasn’t exactly easy to know how to deal with hundreds of people he didn’t know grieving a version of him he hadn’t even known existed.

Daphne, his wife, was the worst of the lot. She put on a brave face, sure, but he heard her crying most nights once the silencing charm on her bedroom inevitably wore off. She never cried in front of him though, and for some reason, that made him feel terrible. She was his wife, but he didn’t have any feelings for her.

At least, he hadn’t when he’d first moved into Potter Cottage. 

Now that he’d been here for just under a month, he was starting to get glimpses of things. Slivers of memories came into his mind at odd times, and unexpected emotions would randomly bubble up in his chest. It had been disconcerting to say the least, and he’d kept the knowledge of what was happening to himself private for now. Reconciling his life with this past one he’d forgotten was difficult enough without troubling others over it.

“Do you want wine with supper?” Daphne called out from the dining room.

Harry glanced down at the roast he was plating up. What a silly question. They always had wine when they had roasts…

It was like a jolt of electricity that passed through Harry as he leapt backwards from the counter. He threw his arms out to catch himself, but he only managed to knock over the small saucepan of gravy that was busy simmering away on the stove top.

Cursing to himself, Harry whipped out his wand and vanished the mess on the floor before Daphne could spot it.

“Harry? Is everything alright in there?”

Of course. She’d heard the pan fall.

“Yeah,” he called back to her. “Just a little accident.”

She came through the doorway into the kitchen with a concerned look on her face, but her worries were assuaged when she saw that he had it all under control. 

Even though he didn’t really know Daphne especially well yet, he could see why his past self had married her. She was wicked clever and was far too compassionate over his current situation than she had any right to be. She never got angry with him for forgetting things his past self liked to do, even when he didn’t realise that he’d missed her birthday until a week after it had gone by. 

She was gorgeous too. Even in her casual, dark-green robes, Harry thought that she was the most stunning woman he’d met so far. Her normally loose blond hair was done up in a high ponytail that cascaded down just past her shoulders. A few stray locks of hair framed her pretty face and brilliant blue eyes. 

He’d chosen his wife well, obviously. It was one of the things Harry wished he remembered about his past life.

Daphne crouched down and picked up the mostly empty saucepan with that same gentle, understanding smile she always gave him. She didn’t baby him but neither did she get angry whenever he did something wrong. “We’ll just go without gravy tonight,” she said casually, like it didn’t upset her even in the slightest. She dropped the saucepan back on the stove top.

Harry felt a tinge of embarrassment turn his cheeks pink. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s honestly fine,” Daphne assured him. “You were the one who liked gravy more than me. You used to take my plate from me after we were done eating and mop up the leftover gravy on my plate with a Yorkshire pudding.”

There she was again reminding him about things that he didn’t remember but his body knew to be true. It wasn’t quite that she was unlocking a memory. Instead, her words just felt right to him. It was like that comforting feeling that you got from covering yourself with a warm blanket on a cold winter day.

“Now, about the wine…” Daphne looked at him with a bright, encouraging smile.

“Yes please,” Harry answered quickly.

Daphne laughed, and Harry felt his cheeks turn even more pink. “Did you want red or white?”

“Red,” Harry answered, having already discovered his preference the first week he was back home. Of course, Daphne had already known his preference and had restocked his favourite bottle of wine. She’d given him a sample of it with a curious look, and she’d seemed pleased when he declared that he loved it.

“I’ll go get us a bottle then,” Daphne told him.

The moment she disappeared from sight, Harry groaned quietly into his hands. Somehow, he kept acting like an idiot when she was around, blushing at every little thing she did for him. 

It wasn’t hard to figure out why: he had a crush on her. 

A part of him felt guilty about that. He knew she loved him, but it wasn’t the current him that she loved. Maybe it was more complicated than that, but Harry still felt like an interloper in another man’s marriage. Whenever he looked at her and thought how beautiful she was, he forced himself to pull back and keep his distance.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting to reach back out and kiss her.

Harry grabbed the tray with the roast and all of the roasted potatoes and vegetables and carried it through to the dining room. He went back for the Yorkshire puddings and the few dregs of gravy he managed to salvage from the saucepan. He set that small serving of gravy beside Daphne’s plate.

She came back a minute later with his favourite wine. It was already uncorked, and Harry was sure that she’d done so an hour ago knowing that he’d want to have wine with supper. It was like she was prophetic, but Harry knew it was really just because she knew him so well.

As they settled in and started to eat, Harry thought about just how obvious it was how much she loved the old him. She knew so much about what he liked and disliked, and she was always so excited to show him one of his old favourite things. Apparently losing his memory didn’t change his tastes at all.

Harry never spoke much whenever they shared a meal together. Daphne seemed happy enough to do the talking for both of them, so he let her. Today was no different.

“Ron sent me another letter begging me to let you go round the Burrow for a Quidditch game,” Daphne told him. “Apparently, he and Bill have been getting destroyed without you to catch the snitch before Charlie gets to it.”

Ah yes, the Weasleys. He remembered how they all piled into his room at St Mungo’s to see him. He remembered bits and pieces of his history with them now. Summer nights at a creek, a table laden with food, and a Ford Anglia. Little of it made sense to Harry, but at least he knew them a bit better now.

“I guess all of your previous scrapes with dark arts in the past has him convinced that you’re fine to get up and go after just a couple weeks of resting at home,” Daphne shook her head. “I keep trying to tell him that until your mind is right again, the healers don’t want you to do anything that could risk your health.”

“I feel pretty good though,” Harry commented lightly. He remembered a bit about his past with Quidditch too, and he desperately wanted to go flying again.

Daphne’s glare stopped him in his tracks. “No,” she told him sternly. “I swear, it’s bad enough watching you fall off a broom normally. I can’t stand to see you get right back up on your broom like you’re invincible or something.”

The words came out of his lips before he even realised what he was saying. They came from a memory, something he’d said to Daphne before.

“I am the Chosen One though.”

Daphne looked at him like her eyes were about to explode out of her skull, and then, suddenly, she burst into a fit of giggles. 

Harry smiled at hearing her laugh. It sounded beautiful to his ears.

Her laughter grew and grew until a bittersweet smile settled on her lips. 

“I never should have told you about that,” she said.

Had she? Harry didn’t remember anything about him being the ‘Chosen One,’ but he had to admit that it was hard to keep up with everything that she told him about his past life.

“Whenever… if you get better, then we can go,” Daphne told him.

Harry grimaced at her change of words. He knew that she was still hoping he’d regain his memories, but sometimes her belief in that happening waned. It was like she was preparing herself for the worst so that she didn’t get disappointed.

“When I’m better,” Harry corrected her.

She smiled at him and glanced back down at her plate while butterflies danced in Harry’s stomach.

PAGE BREAK

Memories were returning to him faster now, and they were more than just slivers. 

One day, Harry awoke with a terrified scream as he watched a massive basilisk lunge at him. He was able to remember what happened that day from that point onward, and it started happening more and more.

Most of his memories were from his youth. Days spent running away from his malicious cousin or dealing with his aunt and uncle. His thoughts and emotions from those times came back to him too. Slowly, it felt like his mind was repairing itself.

Unlike the initial terror and turmoil he’d experienced when his memories had begun to return, he almost felt calm now. It could still occasionally be jarring, but the more that his mind was repaired, the easier it was to integrate new memories back in.

But one part of his memories still remained frustratingly elusive: his life with Daphne.

It was clear that they never got together until after his year on the run from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but Harry didn’t have any other insights into it. In all the time that they’d talked, Daphne had never once mentioned how they’d first met. She usually spoke about things they did together as a couple or fond memories she had of him.

So, one afternoon, as they were busy cleaning up from lunch, Harry asked her.

“How did we meet?”

Daphne looked a little surprised at the question. To be fair, Harry hadn’t asked her many questions in their time together, but each one was often tied to something important about their history together.

“Technically, we met in our first year at Hogwarts,” Daphne began to explain as she picked up their empty plates and put them beside the sink, where Harry was standing. “I think you bumped into me. I glared at you and you ran off with Hermione and Ron. We never exactly talked much back in our school days.”

“Did I even know your name?” Harry asked as he started to wash the plates clean in the soapy water.

“Maybe,” Daphne shrugged. “But you were always so caught up in your own world that it wouldn’t surprise me if you recognised me but just thought of me as another Slytherin.”

“What about after Hogwarts?” Harry pushed. “Did we meet through work at the Ministry?”

Daphne gave a slight shake of her head. “I was working for the Ministry at that time, but you were still figuring things out. It was the summer after Voldemort died, and his followers were being rounded up. Even though you weren’t an Auror yet, the Minister, Kingsley, had you working alongside them sometimes. You wanted to help out however you could, and he was happy to have the hero of Britain on his side.”

Harry listened attentively, nodding along. From all he’d learnt about his history from Daphne and his friends and family, this very much seemed like something he’d do.

“There was an old house out in the middle of nowhere that was trapped,” Daphne continued. “The Ministry sent in a team of ward experts to dismantle them, but they learnt that the wards were locked with Parseltongue. Kingsley asked you to go there and help dismantle the wards so that the house could be cleared out of anything evil inside, and so you did exactly that.”

“How do you fit into this story?” Harry asked curiously.

A small smile crossed Daphne’s lips. “The house was full of dark artefacts and books; they thought it was being used as a storehouse. One of the books was a list of ancient curses that were recorded in the 12th century. One of the curses in the book was a blood malediction curse.”

She stared at him for a moment then, hoping her words would jog some of his memory, but nothing came to his mind. He just stared back at her, waiting for her to go on.

Daphne’s smile turned a bit sad, but she continued nonetheless. “My family was cursed by this blood malediction. Some ancient witch used it on one of my ancestors over some long forgotten squabble. Without knowing how the curse worked or how it was developed, we’ve been unable to counter it. So, for generations, my family has had countless members suffer from this curse. It bypassed me, but my sister was badly affected by it. She used to be really frail and sickly because of it.”

“But she’s better now, right?” Harry asked. Astoria had been by to visit just the other day, and she’d always seemed so full of life to him.

Daphne nodded. “She is thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me?” Harry repeated.

“You were the one who brought the book to my family,” Daphne told him. “You’d remembered hearing about my sister’s condition back at Hogwarts, and when you realised what was in the book, you came running to see if it could help us.” She laughed quietly. “I used to make fun of your saving-people thing back at Hogwarts. I never knew it’d come back to help me out like this.”

“It took months to decipher the creation of the curse,” Daphne continued. “And you visited at least twice a week to check up on my progress deciphering it and to offer whatever support you could. You would sit with Astoria and me for hours and keep her entertained while I worked; you even started making us tea and hot chocolate. Eventually, I developed a ritual that would cleanse a person of the blood malediction from them and their genes, meaning they couldn’t pass it on either. The ritual needed two people to complete it, and you were the first one to volunteer to help me out with it.”

“We did the ritual on Astoria that night, after you had Hermione check over my work to make sure it was right,” Daphne explained. “It took so much out of us that we ended up in St Mungo’s for magical exhaustion, but the first thing you asked when we woke back up was how long it would take before we could do the ritual again on me so that I never had to worry about giving my future children the blood malediction either.”

“And then we got together after that?” Harry asked.

Daphne shook her head. “We got together after the first ritual,” she snorted and giggled quietly to herself. “We had to do the ritual naked to prevent any materials from interfering with the ritual circle, and you had a pretty hard time keeping your eyes off of me.”

Harry blushed and did his best to not try to imagine what Daphne looked like naked, but he failed pretty miserably at that.

“We’d already started flirting a bit before that, and I had half a mind to ask you out since you seemed to be taking your sweet time doing it yourself, but you ended up asking me out to supper once we were out of St Mungo’s after the first ritual,” Daphne said. “I like to say it’s because you wanted to see me naked more often, but you claimed that you had planned to ask me out long before the first ritual. The only reason you waited until after we’d done the ritual was so that I didn’t feel forced into dating you so that you’d keep helping us.”

There was something like a flash of light in front of Harry’s eyes, and then he was transported to another time, another place. He was looking through his eyes at a slightly younger Daphne, sitting down at a nice restaurant. Warm candlelight illuminated her features and the single rose that sat in a tall glass in between them. She was wearing a beautiful silver dress. Words came out of his mouth, and her teeth showed as she laughed.

“Harry?”

Suddenly, Harry jerked backwards as his mind returned to the present. The bowl he’d been washing went flying up into the air, and dirty, soapy water and scraps of half-eaten food splashed all over Daphne.

As the bowl clattered on the floor and suds dripped down Daphne’s face, Harry rushed to apologise.

“I’m sorry, I—” he began, but Daphne held her hand up to stop him short.

“It’s alright,” she assured him, brushing away the soapy water from around her eyes. “It’s just a little mess.”

“Let me help you clean up,” Harry said quickly as he grabbed his wand.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “I was planning on taking a shower after lunch anyways.”

It was probably a white lie, but it didn’t help Harry feel any better about what he’d done. He always seemed to mess things up whenever he saw a memory again.

“Let me at least get you some towels,” he pleaded with her, wanting to do anything to offer up some form of recompense.

Daphne seemed a little amused with his efforts and finally gave in. “Alright,” she agreed. “Let me just go get a change of clothes.”

The two of them headed upstairs, and Harry rushed to the linen closet to get out some extra fluffy towels for Daphne. He dropped them on the counter in his bathroom and started running the water for the walk-in shower so that it’d be nice and hot for her once she came back with her clothes.

Daphne reappeared a minute later with a small pile of clean clothes for herself. She smiled at his nervous face. “Thank you,” she told him.

Harry just nodded and rushed out of the bathroom to give her some privacy. He hurried back downstairs, fully intent on cleaning up the water on the floor, only to realise that he didn’t have his wand on him anymore.

He scoured the kitchen for it to no avail. It was only then that he realised that he’d had it in his hands when he’d gotten Daphne her towels. He must have set it down on the counter in his bathroom.

Harry groaned and grabbed a spare hand towel and started to wipe up the soapy water off of the floor. It only took a minute, but when he was cleaning, he noticed a long spray of water along the ceiling too and several bits of food littering the cupboards. There was probably more elsewhere that he wasn’t seeing right now too.

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to leave this mess just for when Daphne got out of the shower. He’d been a big enough burden on her already, and he was tired of it.

So, reluctantly, Harry walked back upstairs to his bedroom. He knocked on the bathroom door and called out: “Daphne?”

Over the sound of the running water, he heard her concerned voice. “Harry? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” he replied awkwardly. “I was just… did I leave my wand on the counter in there by mistake?”

“You did,” Daphne confirmed after a moment. “You can come in and get it if you want.”

Harry’s hand was halfway to the door handle before he stopped himself. “You’re in the shower though,” he pointed out.

Daphne’s laugh echoed out of the bathroom. “You’ve seen me naked plenty of times. I don’t mind you coming in to grab your wand.”

Maybe his past self had seen her naked plenty of times, but this current version of him hadn’t.

He hesitated again before he came up with a plan. He closed his eyes and covered them with one hand while his other went for the door handle.

Harry stumbled into the bathroom and felt a wave of warm steam wash over him. He could hear Daphne humming quietly to herself in the shower. Carefully, he started walking forward towards the counter where his wand was. He’d used this bathroom enough since he came back to Potter Cottage that he knew the layout quite well, so it wasn’t hard to navigate over there.

“What are you doing?” Daphne laughed again.

“Finding my wand,” Harry answered as he blindly felt around the counter top for his wand.

“No, I mean why are you closing your eyes?” Daphne asked.

“I, err…” he hesitated again.

“The glass wall around the shower is covered in steam,” Daphne told him. “You can’t really see me through it.” 

Cautiously, Harry cracked open his eyes. The first thing he did was snatch his wand off of the counter top, but then his gaze lingered over towards the shower. 

Daphne was right: the steam on the glass shower wall was enough to obscure her features pretty well. However, it didn’t hide the outline of her body at all.

Harry had to hold back a gasp as he looked at Daphne through the glass wall. Her profile was simply gorgeous. His gaze traced her every curve from her long legs to her perky arse and her large breasts that stood out over her flat belly. She looked gorgeous.

“See something you like?” Daphne called out with a teasing tone. 

Harry blushed and looked away.

“I don’t mind if you look, Harry,” Daphne added quickly. “You’re my husband after all.”

Suddenly, Harry wasn’t standing in the bathroom anymore. He was staring at Daphne on their wedding day in front of hundreds of guests. They were on a raised platform in a field beyond Greengrass Manor. Someone said something, and then he was kissing Daphne.

The memory flickered, and suddenly he jumped forward in time to later that night. Harry was laying in bed staring at a closed door. It opened a moment later, and Daphne appeared in white lingerie.

Again, Harry jumped forward in his memory, and he was on top of Daphne, sheathed inside of her.

“I love you,” she moaned as he jerked his hips forward and filled her with his seed.

Then, he was back in the bathroom as his mind suddenly throbbed in pain. He staggered forward and gripped the counter tightly with both of his hands as countless memories rushed through his mind at a breakneck pace. They all bled into one another until blissful silence was all that was left.

As Harry straightened his back and looked at himself in the mirror, he realised that all of his memories were back.

Everything else was forgotten as he dashed to the door to the shower and threw it open. Daphne was stood under the hot spray of water, staring at him wide-eyed in surprise. 

“I’m back,” was all that Harry needed to say.

Daphne only needed a second to process his words before she leapt into his arms. 

Harry held her tightly to himself, not caring in the least that she was dripping with water and drenching his clothes. He squeezed her as tightly as he could to make up for all of the lost time that they’d had when his memories were gone.

“Thank you,” he murmured into her ear as she sobbed happily against his shoulder. “You did such a good job looking after me, and I’m sorry that I forgot about you.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Daphne’s muffled voice said.

“You were so brilliant,” he told her. “You took care of me everyday even though it must have been so hard for you. I love you so much, Daphne.”

“I love you,” she replied through her tears. She pulled back a bit and wiped them away without quite letting go of him. “Do you remember everything then?”

Harry nodded his head. “Everything from the moment I woke up in St Mungo’s and everything before I got knocked out on that raid.”

That made Daphne let out another sob. She clung to him even harder.

“Don’t you ever dare leave me again,” she cried.

“I won’t,” he promised her. “I think taking some time away from the Aurors will do me a world of good. And later, once I’m better, maybe I’ll take up a bit of a safer profession. Now that the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position is gone, I’m sure that McGonagall would love to finally have me join the staff.”

“I’d really like that,” Daphne replied.

“There’s something else I’d really like to do too,” Harry added.

Daphne looked up at him. “Which is?”

“I don’t want to wait to start a family with you,” he smiled down at her. “I know we promised to wait until we were more situated in our careers, but I—”

“Yes,” Daphne interrupted him with a kiss. Their lips connected, and Harry felt an explosion of love in his chest that he’d been missing for far too long now. “I’m ready for kids too.”

Harry’s eyes twinkled. “Well, one of us is already undressed…”

Daphne laughed and wiped away the tears from her eyes again. “Two minutes with your memories back and you already want to have sex.”

“It’s a little hard not to when I have such a gorgeous witch pressing herself up against me,” Harry countered playfully.

“Fair point,” Daphne giggled. “Well then, take me to bed.”

Harry scooped Daphne up into his arms and kissed her passionately as he carried her back into their bedroom. It wasn’t until now that he realised just how much he missed having her sleep beside him in bed every night, and he was hoping to make up for lost time right now.

Harry tossed her onto their bed and quickly flicked his wand at her to dry her off. Then, he turned his wand on himself and vanished all of the clothing off of his body. His hard cock bobbed as it was freed from its constraints, and Daphne’s eyes locked onto it immediately. 

Tossing his wand aside, Harry jumped onto the bed on top of Daphne and went right back to kissing her. Her lips tasted so sweet against his, and he had no idea how he managed to go over a month without doing this to her. Daphne was reciprocating just as eagerly, and she quickly wrapped her limbs around him to keep his body pressed up against hers.

For minutes, neither of them did more than kiss and grind their bodies against each other. For both of them, just this simple act of physical contact was more than enough to help their touch-starved bodies recharge. 

But, eventually, the stimulation was starting to get to Harry. Rubbing his cock up against Daphne’s wet pussy was causing him to groan into her mouth with each passing second that he wasn’t buried inside of her. The memory of their wedding night flashed through his mind again, and he knew what he wanted to do.

Evidently, Daphne was thinking the same thing because one of her hands snaked down in between their bodies and grabbed onto his cock. He pulled his hips back, and she positioned the head right up against her entrance. Then, all it took was one smooth thrust forward and he was inside of her again.

Harry and Daphne moaned into each other’s mouths as their bodies became connected again. The feeling of her hot, wet walls gripping him so tightly was simply divine. He’d missed this so much, and he pushed as deep into her as he could go.

“Harry,” Daphne moaned as she threw her head back. 

Harry peppered her neck with his kisses as he rocked his hips against hers. “Yes, love?” 

“Please fuck me,” she told him. “You have no idea how incredible this feels after so long.”

Her pussy clenched down hard around his cock, and Harry bucked his hips against hers again. He knew just how incredible it felt too, and he was going to keep it going for as long as he could.

Harry started to fuck Daphne smoothly. His hips pistoned back and forth as he brought them both the pleasure they’d been denied for too long. Daphne grabbed his head and brought him back in for more kisses, even though they were both virtually breathless. 

Daphne’s tight little pussy was driving Harry mad. He’d forgotten just how easy it was for her to bring him right up to the edge, and it was only helped along by the fact that he’d gone over a month without being inside of her. His cock was pulsing with need, and Daphne must have been able to feel it too because she kept squeezing herself around him.

Harry didn’t want to cum so quickly, but there was no helping it. Daphne’s legs were locked around his, and his mouth was too busy kissing hers to warn her. So, when Harry finally came, he exploded inside of her with a loud groan. He flooded her pussy with his cum, coating every inch of her.

He wondered if this would be the orgasm that finally got her pregnant. 

When his pleasurable tremors finally ended, Daphne playfully bit his lower lip. “I’m not done with you yet,” she told him.

With surprising skill, Daphne flipped Harry over onto his back and fully impaled herself on his still-hard cock. She sat up tall on him gloriously, pushing out her impressive breasts and throwing her head back in delight.

The sheer eroticism of having his wife on top of his cock like this was blowing Harry away. Even though he came just a few moments ago, his cock was still completely hard inside of her, and he was ready for more.

Daphne wasted no time in starting to bounce on him once they were both nicely situated. As she rode up his cock, Harry could see their mixed juices dripping down his shaft and pooling on his pelvis. There was a wet and smacking sound as she slammed down on his cock and then rode all the way back up.

Even though watching her pussy slam up and down on his cock was a delight to watch, Harry couldn’t help but spend some time watching Daphne’s breasts bounce on her chest. They were two perfect orbs of flesh topped with light-pink nipples. They bounced up and down so beautifully as she rode his cock as fast as she could manage. It left Harry transfixed as his wife made up for lost time between the two of them.

“Yes,” Daphne hissed under her breath as she slammed her hands down on Harry’s chest and really worked her hips. Her upper body barely moved as she slammed her hips down again and again, squeezing Harry’s cock tightly each time.

The pleasure Harry was feeling seemed unimaginable to him. It felt even better than their wedding night had, and even their honeymoon couldn’t compare to this. There was something so primal and yet loving about the way in which they were pushing each other to their limits tonight. They were both sweating and flushed as they pushed each other further and further.

“Come on,” Daphne groaned as she slammed herself down harder than before.

Her pussy was like a vice grip around him, and the slightest moan that left her lips was pure ecstasy to Harry’s mind. She was perfection incarnate, and there was nothing that could ruin this moment for either of them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Daphne cried out as her upper body fell down onto Harry’s. She was breathing hard in his ear, but she didn’t once stop riding his cock. It was as though her hips were possessed, and she was desperate to reach the finish line.

This time, Harry grabbed Daphne’s head and kissed her as he started to slam up into her as she let her hips fall down onto him. His cock reached the deepest points inside of her as he met her every thrust, and both of them were left moaning in pleasure as it overrode their minds.

Daphne’s walls contracted around him first, and any sounds she made became muddled as her words melted into simple pleasure as she came. Her pussy spasmed and contracted tightly around Harry’s cock, and it was that wonderful sensation that pushed him over the edge. 

The pleasure was so overwhelming that Harry’s mind practically went blank as he came inside of Daphne for the second time. His cock throbbed inside of her tight pussy and unleashed every last drop of cum that it had to offer her. He painted her inner walls white with his seed, and he felt satisfied knowing that she was sure to be pregnant by the end of this.

Daphne was still trembling and shaking on top of Harry by the time his orgasm ended. He held her close to him until she finally began to settle down, and then he rolled them both over onto their sides.

With his cock still inside of her, Harry kissed Daphne sweetly.

“I never want to leave you again,” he told her. “I love you more than life itself.”

Daphne kissed him back, and for a moment, both of them forgot the world. All that mattered was their love for each other and the start of their new family.