Chapter 12

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Daphne wondered, looking to Lilian, if burning the newspaper would be an overreaction, or if perhaps it would set a bad example. The news of the birth of a new Potter hadn't taken long to appear, and Daphne wouldn't have cared, hadn't it been the little girl's name.

Of course they would have her named Lily. Sure, what a coincidence . The reason, as so elegantly put by Skeeter's pen, was also wonderful. " We felt like we needed to pay homage to Harry's mother, who sacrificed herself so that Harry could live..." . No wonder Ginevra was a journalist, really. She knew how to wordsmith very well.

Still, her pride was the tiniest bit wounded. Her daughter may not have been an official Potter, but her daughter was still named after his mother. Still, how many little girls weren't, especially in the years after the war? And how was Harry supposed to explain why he wasn't naming his only daughter after his mother, especially after having named his eldest after his father? There was no possible answer to this that didn't reveal Lilian. Daphne sighed, drinking her tea.

"Something wrong, mum?", Lilian asked, raising her eyes from the coloring book. Her green eyes lingered for a moment over the newspaper, but she spoke nothing.

"No, sweetheart.", Daphne replied, checking the time. Why was she surprised Harry wouldn't come? He had a newborn baby in his home. He wouldn't come to her for a long time. Six months, perhaps more.

At least, that was her logic - Daphne woke up one morning to the smell of burnt coffee and fresh pancakes, the nagging thought she maybe should invest in a better set of locks knocking in her head. Maybe something a simple Alohomora couldn't break. She rose up and went to the kitchen, finding Harry making pancakes with Lilian, her daughter failing to stifle laughter as she noticed flour making Harry hair white. Daphne was... Surprised. His daughter was barely four months old, and yet, here he was.

"Good morning,", Daphne called, making the two freeze. She smiled, and Harry at least had the decency to blush. Lilian, however, seemed unbothered. Ah, to be a child.

"Good morning, mum!", Lilian chirped, jumping from her spot and running to Daphne. Her hair, too, had flour on it. "Do you want pancakes? Me and uncle Harry just made them!"

"That's great, sweetheart, but perhaps, before eating, you should wash. You're all covered with flour.", Daphne touched her daughter's forehead, a small cloud of flour floating off. "We can wait."

Her daughter pouted, but dutifully obeyed, and Daphne only spoke again when she heard the shower start.

"Aren't you worried?", Harry asked, flipping a pancake as if he was a trained chef.

"I've made sure the shower was child-safe. There are more spells there than I have on my door.", she replied, sitting. There weren't many spells on her door, but the shower was safer than Gringotts. "I thought you had a newborn daughter at your home, with, you know, other two children."

Harry seemed ashamed of it, but he spoke nothing. Daphne deemed it a permission to continue to speak.

"By the way, it's a nice name the one you gave to her. Lily Luna. Rolls just right off the tongue.", Daphne couldn't help but sound bitter as the burnt coffee Harry made, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I understand why you put it, but it stings."

Harry spoke nothing, letting the accusations in the air stew for a bit before speaking. Well, not exactly accusations per se, but her tone of voice was accusative.

"Ginny took the children to see Molly, and I think she is mad at me. So, I claimed I had to work. And I do spend time with the children. Just... Not a lot. I work.", he said, in the end, seeming ashamed. Good. He should be.

"What a wonderful dad.", Daphne told him, sitting. Harry winced, and only then Daphne remembered it wasn't like he had a proper father figure, wincing as well. "Sorry."

"No, you're right. I haven't been the best father, I know. I should be, but...",Harry stopped, seemingly falling deep in thought for a moment. "But there is no excuse."

"Glad you noticed that.", Daphne replied, spelling herself a cup of coffee. It was burnt, yes, but she needed it. "Spend time with your own children."

"I want to get to know Lilian. Isn't she mine, as well?", Harry paused once more. "And I want to spend time with you, of course."

Daphne sighed, stuffing her personal satisfaction with his statement as far as possible.

"We can work out some schedule, if that's your issue. A weekday at my house a week, one weekend a month, something.", she shrugged, and Harry floated a plate of pancakes to the table, cleaning himself with a spell. "Don't ruin your relationship with your children because of me."

"She is one of my children too,", Harry pointed out, sitting in front of Daphne. "But I get your point."

Daphne heard the sound of the shower being turned off, and smiled, drinking her awfully bitter coffee. She perhaps should install a child-proof lock on it for Harry. A Harry-proof lock. The thought made her smile a bit.

"Then I believe we're done here, aren't we?", Daphne replied. "Did Granger talk to you?"

He at least had the decency to blush, nodding quietly, and Daphne set a spell to clean the coffee machine.

"Oh, yes. She told me to stop having an affair while on the Ministry, but also told me to take notice of where I was when you were near, so the message I got was a bit mixed. But, considering I'm not the best example of someone who follows rules...", he shrugged once more, and Daphne failed to control a chuckle. "Hey, I bet even you had heard of Hermione is a stickler for rules."

"The Slytherin gossip mill only went so far, dear.", Daphne bit her tongue. That term of endearment shouldn't have left her mouth - and Harry knew it as well, if the pleased look on his face was anything to go by. "One word, Harry, and I'm hexing you seven ways to Sunday."

"Merlin help me, then, sweetheart,", Harry smiled, reaching through the table. Daphne, blushing ever so slightly, allowed herself to put her hand on top of his, and the two of them stayed quiet until Lilian arrived, smelling like soap and cleanliness. harry smiled to her. "Here she is, the little chef. We were waiting."

"Ready to eat, Lilian?", Daphne asked, as the girl sat in the chair between them, smiling brightly and nodding vigorously.

Perhaps this could work, but they'd need some sort of schedule, really. Something that would allow Lilian to grow up while Harry watched, even if not officially as her father.

Black coffee, with sugarKde žijí příběhy. Začni objevovat