Chapter 7

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Meeting in public had been stupid, and Daphne knew it fully well when, three days later, her boss knocked down on her laboratory door, which was weird. No one interrupted her - she worked with dangerous ingredients, where an extra drop or two could cause an explosion -, and as such, this worried Daphne. Perhaps something had happened with Lilian? Astoria was her emergency contact (the school thought she was an MI6 agent, which was weird. Well , she did work for a government...), and if it was, in fact, Astoria, then there was something truly wrong.

She finished cutting the dried mandrake tongue, set it with a freezing spell, and left her work station, a frown marring her face as she looked to her boss. Her boss had been a Hogwarts Quidditch player she had been vaguely aware of, and he nodded to her.

"Greengrass, you have a visitor.", he told her, voice dry. "Try to not take too long."

"Sure, sir,", Daphne replied, confused, as her boss went away, going to Macmillan's table. Was it not Astoria, then? So who could it be?

Daphne took a deep breath and made her way to the lounge room, where all visitors were received, wondering who could it be. Harry had been in her house barely a few hours ago, so that excluded him (probably). Draco barely acknowledged her, and Daphne extended the same courtesy to him. Astoria wouldn't have gotten such a dry reception from her boss, so who...? Pansy? Tracey? Goyle? Blaise?

In the end, Daphne knew as soon as she saw red hair, heart skipping a beat and face paling. She could feel blood running away from her cheeks as a very pregnant, very pissed Ginevra Weasley-Potter tapped her foot on the floor, holding a manilla folder. Daphne broke in a cold sweat; nothing good could come out of a manilla folder, as office life had taught her. She put her best smile and approached Ginevra, nodding quietly.

"Ginevra Potter. What do I owe the pleasure?", Daphne asked, the smile on her face too tight. In the vaguest sense of ways, Ginevra had stolen what was hers, and she couldn't forgive her - even if she had been the one to break up with Harry.

Ginevra threw the manilla folder in Daphne's chest, crossing her arms, and Daphne, flustered, caught it before it fell on the floor and spilled its contents, opening it and feeling the ground disappear beneath her feet.

It was the photos of barely three days ago, Harry and his puppy eyes, a baffling column by Rita Skeeter revealing her so carefully hidden daughter to the world, the title - the first Potter child - mocking her as the photos of them told that it wasn't just more vapid gossip from Skeeter, but the truth. The column reported on their relationship, questions being asked to Harry's friends in regards to Harry and Daphne's past relationship, and Rita, by the end of it, asked her own questions about Lilian. Why is Lilian hidden?, Rita Skeeter asked, and Daphne almost could hear Skeeter's voice ask if it was because her daughter was a Squib.

"You're lucky my editor stopped her,", Ginevra hissed, taking the folder back, and Ginevra grabbed Daphne's wrists with force. "Stop trying to steal my husband, Greengrass. You broke up with him, and I had to pick up the shards. Don't think you can just swoop in and break his heart once more."

Daphne took a deep breath, and let the smile in her face relax, leaning in to speak with Ginevra.

"Then tell Harry to stop breaking and entering in my house, because I am not inviting him in,", she hissed, and stepped back, hands on her back. "Is this all, Mrs. Potter, or am I further needed by you?"

Ginevra stared at her, and Daphne returned the stare until the redhead left, each stomp almost an earthquake. Daphne wondered if she shouldn't have given birth yet, and watched, curious, when Ginevra stopped at the doorstep, almost leaving the place before turning back to Daphne. She rose an eyebrow, prompting Ginevra.

"You're lucky this won't be published. It'd sully my family's reputation,", Ginevra told her, and those words made Daphne's knees weak.

Lilian would be preserved - thank Merlin. Daphne had seen every move of Harry scrutinized in the news since age fourteen; to have her daughter be the subject of that, since the mere age of six, would destroy both of them.

She took a deep breath, and turned her back to the door, going back to work. She'd talk about this with Harry later, but she had a nagging feeling that he'd hear it before she would be able to tell him.

When her work day was over, Daphne passed by the school to pick up Lilian with one eye forward and another looking over her shoulder, paranoia setting in as she wondered how Skeeter had followed and how had the two of them not noticed.

Lilian, at least, didn't notice anything, chattering like a music box about her day and classes, and obeying Daphne when they arrived and she told for Lilian to do her homework while Daphne prepared dinner.

She wondered how Harry would react and what Ginevra would say. Would she be as belic? As angry? As furious, as if Daphne's so well kept secret slipping through her fingers by means unknown was her fault? For Merlin's sake, Daphne had never knocked on their door and presented her daughter as if she was some burden and begged for money, blackmailed Harry into giving Daphne whatever she had wanted or instead she'd go to the news. What right had Ginevra to treat her like she had? None. Daphne could feel a headache forming, and she let out a groan, making Lilian's familiar green eyes rise from whatever math problems she had to solve.

"Mum?", Lilian asked, pencil still in hand, and Daphne observed her daughter through the reflective surface of the coffee machine. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I just have a headache.", she replied, and Lilian seemed ready to jump. Daphne stopped cutting vegetables for a moment. "Would you pick a potion for me, please?"

"Can I?", Lilian asked, already moving out of her chair, and Daphne bit the inside of her cheek to contain a smile. She would be a good potion mistress, if she so decided to follow it.

"As long as you're careful.", Daphne replied, and listened to the sounds of Lilian going to the potion cabinet, the sound of the stool she used to brush her teeth being dragged through the floor making her smile. Her daughter was still an unknown to the magical world; that would be enough for her.

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