Unexpected Gifts

Chapter IX

Daphne smacked Harry's arm lightly, "Forgive my husband, sir, we are Harry and Daphne Potter-Black-Greengrass. Harry grew up an orphan and is known as 'The Last Potter' from where we're from. We've recently come upon the knowledge that your wife comes from a branch line of our family."

"It's a story for inside with yours," Harry cut in.

"Sometimes you could use a bit of shrewdness, dear," Daphne advised as Robert regarded them.

He seemed to study Harry for a long moment before he laughed to himself. "Of course, you're a Potter, ya look just like my Elaine." He shook his head as he opened the front gate and motioned to the home with his head.

"Let's go then, I'm sure the lass would love to know she's not the only one known as the last of her line." He grumbled lowly.

They followed him up to the step and through the door.

"Rob, is that you?" A soft voice floated from deeper within the cottage.

"Yeh, it's me, Eli," the man called back to his wife, "We've got a couple o' guests tha wanna meet ya."

"Me?" She asked as she came from what they thought to be a kitchen, wiping her hands on an aged patchwork apron.

She was stopped short as she saw Harry and Daphne, although her honey-brown eyes were locked with emerald ones.

They both had the same sharp intake of breath as they saw each other, their faces held the same eyebrows and jaw, but Harry had the cheekbones and nose of the Blacks.

They shared the same dark, wild hair. Elaine's flowed down her back, whereas Harry's was cropped around his ears.

Robert and Daphne stood beside their spouses, both holding their breath until Elaine ran her hand through her hair, a trait that seemed to run through the Potter line.

"Well, um, I'm Elaine." She seemed to stammer.

Harry, for all of his nerves, gave a chuckle and a boyish grin. "It's wonderful to meet you, I am Harry Potter. This is my wife, Daphne."

Daphne huffed lightly and smiled, "Forgive him, he's not usually this awkward."

"Forgive me for being nervous, everyone thought that I was the last Potter for nearly three hundred years. It's not every day you come to find out that a cadet branch is still alive after what happened in 1700." He said, his voice holding a grim tone.

"1700?" Elaine asked, her brows knit in confusion.

Harry sighed and smiled sadly as his distant cousin, "We Potters have been around for over a thousand years and are older than most. My line is from Hardwin Potter, who was the Head of our family. He had six younger brothers, who became cadet lines. For generations, the Potters were very closely knit, until 1700."

Daphne picked up for him, "In 1700, some of the cadet lines revolted against the rest of the family. Harry's great-great-great-great grandfather watched as his family killed each other. His family was reduced to only him and his son. In 1702, my family, the Greengrasses offered our help to the Potters. At the time some of our own family betrayed us and we knew the pain all too well."

Robert huffed heavily, "How do we know it ain't poppycock?"

He was smacked stiffly in the chest by his wife, "Because pa told me somethin' like it when I was a lass. He told me we were a fighty bunch and always help'n people until it saw the end o' us."

Her Scottish was thick as she spoke, her voice a low whisper as she stared at Harry.

"You said there used ta be a lot o' us," She swallowed thickly, "Where are we from then?"