As sunlight streamed in through the window to her bedroom, Daphne Greengrass opened her eyes and observed her surroundings with an attentiveness that made it seem as if she had not been sleeping at all. It was the price that came with the training she had received at the hands of her father. She was always alert, always ready in case the man whose blood ran through her veins came to wake her up at the crack of dawn for more training.
Seeing no one in her room, she slowly sat up and looked out the window. The sun was just now beginning to rise, slowly peaking out from behind the horizon and forest surrounding the Greengrass manor. Light pinks and orange hues were cast amongst the sky and sparse sprinkling of clouds, creating a beautiful panoramic scene that many master painters would pay an arm and leg to capture.
Daphne turned away from the view without a second thought. Her bare feet hit soft carpetas she began walking toward the bathroom with light, graceful steps, just as one would expect from a proper pureblood woman.
Like all parts of the Greengrass manor, her private bathroom was luxurious. Marble tiling, a beautifully crafted tub and shower combination, and a glass chandelier above. The gold used in the bathrooms creation caused beautiful refractions across the room as the light from the chandelier hit it, and the mirror near the black marble sink was decorated with many precious gems.
Daphne hated all of it. Hated the pomp and circumstance, the wealth, and the need for her father to show off his wealth even when nobody else would see this room but her.
She didn't even know why he bothered, considering he wasn't even really her father. Not anymore. Not since her mother died giving childbirth to her stillborn brother.
None of the disgust she felt at her extravagant surroundings, nor the sadness she still felt from her mother's death showed on her expressionless face as she stripped off the pale, silk nightgown and knickers she had worn to bed.
She went over to the shower and turned it on, stepping in without a thought. Cold water blasted her for a second, before the heating charms warmed it up. Soon, a thick steam covered the room in its white vapor, and Daphne began to wash herself.
She did not bother to rush, nor did she take an exorbitant amount of time. Like everything else she did, she was methodical, thorough, and economical in cleaning herself.
After she finished her shower, she stepped out and dried herself off with a towel. She grabbed another towel and wrapped it around her head in order to keep her hair out of her face, then grabbed a thick bathrobe and put it on. After that she would begin the process of drying and combing her hair. She did not put on any make up, she never did, even though her father had hired someone who taught her how to properly apply it.
Once finished with her morning ritual, she dressed herself in a pair of fine robes of a dark green that traveled down to her ankles, and made her way out of the bedroom.
Daphne did not need to walk very far to reach her first destination of the day. Her sister's room stood right across the hall from hers. She stepped up to it and gently opened the door, being careful not to let it open too loudly.
Astoria's room was much different than hers. It had the same extravagance, but unlike her room, which was spartan and bare, her sisters room had all kinds of animals and toys that littered the corners, dresser, and bed.
Daphne walked swiftly over to the large queen-sized bed located at the opposite end of the room. Her sister, who looked almost like a clone of Daphne except with hair a shade darker, was fast asleep, her mouth slightly parted as she breathed through it.
A change took place in Daphne as she watched her sister sleep. Her eyes softened, her lips curved into a gentle smile, and a strange glow seemed to emanate from within her. It was a look few people had ever seen on her, and one that few people ever would see. She could count the number of people who had seen her like this on one hand and still have more than half her fingers left over.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Daphne began running her hands through Astoria's hair in a fashion that looked more like the affection a mother held for her daughter than a girl had for her sister. She continued along this vein for a good while, simply waiting until her sister woke up naturally. Astoria did not need to wake up at the crack of dawn like she did.
A little past seven, her sister's features began to stir. Drowsy eyelids slowly blinked open to reveal ocean green eyes, another small difference between Daphne and her sister. The younger girl looked over at the eldest daughter of the Greengrass family and gave her a tired smile.
“Mornin', Daphne.”
“Good morning, Stori,” Daphne greeted with her own smile as she leaned over and placed a kiss on her sister's brow. “After you wash up, come down stairs. Emily has made us breakfast, and there are several presents waiting for you to open them.”
Astoria's face lit up in an ecstatic smile, and before Daphne knew what hit her, the girl launched herself from her laying position and hugged her elder sister for all she was worth.
“Thank you.”
She was released a moment later and her sister hopped out of bed and skipped her way into the bathroom.
Daphne made her way downstairs and entered the dining room, where her families house elf had prepared a smorgasbord for breakfast, consisting of all her sister's favorites, just like she had asked it too.
She sat down and waited until Astoria bounced into the room and sat with her before having breakfast.
Breakfast, and mealtimes in general, was not a very lively affair at the Greengrass residence. Their father had made it abundantly clear that there would be no noise while eating at the table. To him, only barbarians spoke loudly and acted with disgrace while eating, not wealthy pureblood's like them.
Daphne wondered quite vindictively what her father would say if he knew Draco Malfoy acted like the worst kind of barbarian at the Slytherin table every time they ate.
After they finished breakfast, and Astoria thanked her sister again with another hug, the two adjourned to the living room where a bundle of presents sat waiting for the youngest of the two Greengrass children. And while her sister went over to the presents and began opening them, Daphne made her way to the couch and sat down to watch her sister.
Nathaniel Greengrass did not show up to celebrate with them. He had long stopped celebrating any of the holidays they had shared in when they were younger and her mother was still alive. This included Christmas.
Of course, her father did not call it Christmas. That was a muggle holiday, and as such was not fit for an upstanding pureblood family like themselves to celebrate. Instead, they celebrated, or had celebrated, yuletide.
Hypocrite. That was what her father was. A damn bloody hypocrite. He refused to even call what they did Christmas simply because he thought it was something beneath a pureblood family to celebrate, yet she knew for a fact that some of his clients, including a few who believed in the pureblood dogma spewed by people like Lucius Malfoy, celebrated Christmas.
Even Lucius Malfoy celebrated Christmas, if his son's boasting of the presents he got every year during Christmas was to be believed.
Daphne Greengrass sat silently, as befitted a woman of her status, and watched as her sister opened her presents. None of them were from their father. Nathaniel had stopped buying them gifts long ago. All those presents were from Daphne, who carefully saved up most of her money each year so she could get her little sister gifts for the holidays and her birthday.
Sometimes, when she was sitting like this, Daphne would imagine what life would be like had her mother not died, had her brother not been a stillborn. Would they still be a family then? Would her father be the loving man she could hardly remember? Would she and the rest of her family be happy? She would like to think so.
Then she would dispel those thoughts, because dreaming and wondering about pointless 'what ifs' never did anyone any good. Whatever might have happened if her mother and brother had lived would never happen now, and she had to remain strong, for her sister if no one else.
“Daphne?”
Daphne did not even blink when she realized Astoria was right in front of her. She merely turned her head to look at the younger girl curiously.
“Yes, Stori? What is it?”
“There's a present here for you,” Astoria said matter of factly. This time, Daphne did blink. A present for her? She had not received a present during Christmas for a long time, not during the actual day itself, at least. Mrs. Davis mother would likely have a Christmas gift for her that Tracey would give when they met, but that was about it.
“Do you know who it's from?” she asked, unable to quite contain her curiosity. She looked down at the small box her younger sister had set on her lap. It was tiny, maybe a bit bigger than the size of her palm. The box was neatly wrapped in silver and green paper that slithered like snakes. It came with a small card that had her name written on the top.
Astoria shook her head.
“Not a clue,” she said as she sat down next to her sister. All her presents were already opened. She smiled at her older sister. “Why don't you open it and find out who it's from?”
Daphne nodded absently as she took the card and opened it, carefully reading the contents as Astoria looked over her shoulder.
To the Heiress of the Noble House of Greengrass.
I know we haven't really known each other long, but I wanted to get you a gift anyway. After all, even if purebloods don't celebrate Christmas, this is still the time where people should be in the spirit of giving.
I hope you like it.
Sincerely,
The Heir Apparent to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter.
Harry James Potter.
“Oh my gosh,” Astoria whispered as she looked at the name written the bottom of the letter in neat cursive. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! You didn't tell me you know Harry Potter!” She sent an accusing glare her sisters way.
“I don't,” Daphne stated as if it were a fact, though her tone was also laced with shock. “We've only just recently started talking.” Which begged the question of why he bought her a gift. Why would he do something like this when she had not really done anything to deserve it? When she had been so rude to him before? Was this simply a matter of him wanting to buy her something? Or was there another reason for it?
Daphne immediately felt bad when her first thoughts were that of him trying to gain her allegiance. He had freely admitted that part of the reason he spoke to her that night in the room with the mirror was that he had hoped she would ally herself with him, but that he felt horrible for even thinking it afterward. She knew he was being honest. Even if he wore his mask well, he could not lie to someone who had been trained in the ways of a pureblood for over half her life.
She looked back at the bottom of the card and almost couldn't contain her snort of amusement. It looked like Potter—Harry—was learning a bit about pureblood society.
“Well,” Astoria prodded her sister, “Are you going to open it?”
At her sister's urging, Daphne opened the present, carefully stripping away the wrapping until she reached the package.
Opening the small box, Daphne looked at the content inside and felt her heart skip a beat. Sitting there, on a small cushion, were a pair of tasteful earrings in the shape of two small snakes entwined with one another. One was silver, the other gold, making a wonderful contrast as they twisted around each other like a pair of lovers. At the end of each snake were two small diamonds like eyes, glittering as light coruscated off their polished, gleaming surface.
“Oh wow,” Astoria breathed, “They're so pretty.”
Daphne nodded, but did not say anything. Could not say anything. Something appeared stuck in her throat, preventing her from speaking. All she could do was stare at the beautiful and tasteful earrings like they were something alien.
She was so caught up in her staring that she didn't even notice when Astoria grabbed the top half of the box.
“Hey, Daphne,” her sister finally brought her attention away from the gift. “There's a note in here.” Astoria pulled out a small note that had been attached to the top of the box and handed it to her sister. Daphne took the note with slightly numb fingers and brought it to her face.
These earrings are special. They have been enchanted to detect harmful substances in their air or food around you. Whenever there is something near you, like poison of a love potion, they will grow warm.
I hope you never have need of this enchantment, but felt it better to be safe than sorry. Pureblood society is often fraught with treachery, or so I am told.
H.J.P.
“Daphne?” her sister began, sounding concerned. “Are you alright? You're crying.”
Daphne shook her head, her hair catching light as it swung around her face. Delicate fingers came up and brushed across her cheeks in an attempt to wipe away the small silver tears that fell from her eyes.
“I'm fine, Stori,” she murmured softly, “Just fine.”
XoX
Her holiday break had been just as annoying as she had believed it would be. From the very moment they got home to Christmas day, her sister had yet to keep her big mouth shut once. She was always going on about every little thing, complaining about everything and nothing at the same time, and worse, she wouldn't leave Lisa alone about her friendship with Harry.
It was days like these where Lisa wished she was an only child. At least then she would be able to get some peace and quiet.
“For the last time,” Lisa said, exasperated, “I am not going to send a letter to Harry asking him to meet with you.”
Her sister, Elena Turpin, pouted at her.
“Why not?” she asked plaintively, “It's not like it would take that much time to write a letter and send it off. You could consider this my Christmas gift since I know you didn't get me one.”
“You didn't get me one either, remember?” Lisa pointed out, trying not to grit her teeth in annoyance. Elena opened her mouth to begin jabbering some more, but she did not want to hear it. Instead of listening to her sister complain and whine, she focused on eating breakfast.
It was Christmas morning and both of her parents were still asleep. Her mother had pulled another all-nighter at Saint Mungos and her father just got back from a business trip with some associates. That meant making breakfast was up to her. Since Lisa could not cook that meant breakfast for today was a bowl of cereal and some milk. It wasn't the best breakfast she could think of for Christmas, but she had never been one to complain about such things.
Now if only her sister would shut up so she could eat in peace.
Of course, there was no way that was ever going to happen.
“So?” asked her sister. Lisa rolled her eyes.
“So why should I get you a present if you're not going to get me one?”
“Because I'm your sister.”
“And I'm yours,” Lisa countered irritably.
“Are you two arguing again?” asked the voice of Lisa's and Elena's mother as the woman in question walked into the room followed by her yawning husband.
“Yes,” Lisa said at the same time Elena said, “No.”
Their mother sighed in exasperation.
“Must you two always fight? It's Christmas. This is supposed to be a time of giving and love, not arguments.”
“Blame Elena,” Lisa grumbled in complaint, “she's the one who started it.”
“I did not!” Her sister defended herself in what Lisa had always called her 'snotty princess' voice. “I was merely asking if you could send a letter to Harry Potter asking him if he would meet with me?”
“And what would you want to meet Mr. Potter for?” Their father spoke for the first time since entering the room. The man sat down heavily while his wife walked into the kitchen to make them some coffee.
“Because he's Harry Potter, of course.” Elena rolled her eyes at her dad, as if he should have been able to divine her reasons without having her explain it. “You know, the Boy-Who-Lived? A big celebrity? Why wouldn't I want to meet him?” She crossed her arms under her breasts and huffed. “Last time I saw him, none of you would let me talk to him.”
“Maybe that's why we won't let you meet him,” Lisa commented as she finished her breakfast and walked into the kitchen where she rinsed her bowl in the sink. “Because the only reason you want to see him is because he's a big celebrity.” She ignored the glare her sister sent her and began marching out of the room. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to wait by the Christmas tree while you lot finish eating.”
Lisa made her way into the living room where their Christmas tree was set up, sat down on the couch, and let her mind begin to wander.
It was very strange how most witches and wizards celebrate Christmas. Many purebloods denied it, claiming they were only celebrating the Yuletide, but the truth was Christmas had become a national wizarding holiday ever since Christianity became a major religion in the muggle world, which was around two-thousand or so years ago, give or take a couple of centuries. She always found it interesting how the muggle world affected the wizarding one, especially when it came to certain aspects like holidays.
A few minutes after she sat down and let her mind ponder why wizards celebrated Christmas when they weren't Christians, her parents and older sister came in.
“Presents!”
Lisa rolled her eyes as she watched her sister almost literally dive into her presents like a child on a sugar high. Sometimes she really had to wonder how Elena was the eldest of the two of them when she acted like she a five year old.
Sighing as her sister began ripping apart wrapping paper with indiscrimination, Lisa stood up and walked over to the tree where she, too, began opening presents.
She got much of what she expected, mostly books with a major focus on history. She received a few nice books about Greek mages of old, such a Medea of Colchis, and even several books on Japanese mages, though most of those were based on mythology and not actual facts. Still, while Myths and legends weren't necessarily her thing, there was always a grain of truth to what was said about them, and therefore she could consider them an important part of history.
Her parents also bought her a few clothes. A lot of them centered around some of the newer fashions for witches, robes that were sleeker and looked less like robes and more like dresses. No doubt her mum bought those. Her father had no taste in fashion, but her mother, while certainly not a fashionista like some people, knew a thing or two about clothing.
As she searched through the jungle of wrapping paper now surrounding the Christmas tree, her eyes caught sight of a small box with her name on it. It was wrapped in dark blue paper and had small silver birds on it that flapped their wings, obviously animated with an animation charm, and a card attached to it.
Taking the wrapped package curiously, Lisa opened up the card and began to read.
Lisa,
I know how much you enjoy history and thought you would like this present. It's not a book, but an item that played a significant part in the Four Founders lives, more specifically, it played an important roll in the life of Rowena Ravenclaw. I found it in a muggle shop in London, surprisingly, which might explain why I was able to buy it.
I hope you enjoy the gift and have a Happy Christmas.
Harry James Potter.
A smiled worked its way onto Lisa's face as she read the note. Harry really was incredibly thoughtful, though she did frown when she realized he had gotten her a present and she had not gotten him anything.
Shaking her head and promising herself that she would get him something by the time they got back to Hogwarts, Lisa unwrapped the present with unmitigated excitement.
The box under the wrapping paper was brand new, with a clasp holding it in place. It looked like a muggle box rather than something made in the magical world.
She undid the clasp, opened the box, and gasped when her eyes laid sight to what was contained within. Sitting on a dark purple cushion was a long, curved dagger glinting in the flames lighting the Christmas tree. The dagger was beautifully crafted, with a golden hilt in a silver and blue sheath with numerous sapphires embedded into it. She could tell the artifact was a goblin made ritual dagger. Very rare, and something most antique collectors would kill for. On the hilt was a single silver Raven, the symbol of Rowena Ravenclaw.
She easily recognized the dagger for what it was. There had been many paintings of the ritualistic dagger used by Rowena Ravenclaw in several history books. According to the books, Rowena had been incredibly talented at creating and performing complex blood rituals. Rumor had it that many of the wards around Hogwarts were created through the use of a powerful blood ritual that somehow impregnated the very grounds of Hogwarts with the blood and magics of the Four Founders. Whether that was true or not was a still raging debate that had never, and probably would never, be solved.
Grabbing the dagger with shaky hands, Lisa slid the blade out of the sheath with a slight hiss. The blade was made of silver, that much she could tell from the way it gleamed in the light, and there were numerous runes etched upon its surface. While Lisa didn't know what the runes were or did, she did know that they were designed to help complete magical rituals where blood was required, which had been a common practice during the Founder's time.
“What's that you got there?”
Lisa turned her head to see Elena leaning over her shoulder and peering at the knife curiously. She quickly re-sheathed the dagger and gripped it in a way that would make it hard to take from her, just in case her sister decided to make a grab for it.
“It's the ritual dagger Rowena Ravenclaw used,” her words had both her parents turn their heads towards her and the dagger now clasped in her hand. They didn't look necessarily pleased that she had gotten something sharp and pointy, but Lisa didn't care. She was holding a piece of history in her hands. “It was a gift from Harry.”
“What!?” Elena screeched, making Lisa wince. Merlin her sister was loud. “You mean to tell me you got a gift from Harry Potter!? That is just so... so...”
“Cool.”
Elena gave Lisa a deadpan look that made her want to laugh.
“I was going to say unfair.”
XoX
Harry felt completely relaxed as he stepped out of the shower after his long, hard work-out. Many people would call him crazy for exercising during the holiday, but his recent sparring sessions with Master Wei proved that he needed to up his training, since the lack of a sparring partner at Hogwarts was negatively impacting his performance. He needed to pick up the slack somehow.
Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off, then wrapped it around his waist and walked out of the bathroom and into the hall. The guest room didn't have its own bathroom, so he had to use one several doors down. That was fine with him, it wasn't like anybody was awake at this hour.
Entering his room, Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way toward the drawer, where he kept the few articles of clothing he brought from Hogwarts.
There wasn't much of a selection: three pairs of jeans two of which were black, a couple of T-shirts, underwear and socks. Shrugging, he grabbed a pair of black jeans, a dark green T-shirt, his undergarments and a pair of white socks, then placed them on the bed.
He peeled off the towel and carefully folded it up. He would put it somewhere it could dry later as he had only used it once since washing it. Then he picked up his skivvies.
He was just about to start getting dressed when the door slammed open and Lisa Crawft's greeted him loudly and cheerfully.
“Happy Christmas, HarrrRRYYYYAAAHHH!!”
Acting with the haste of someone caught in an embarrassing position, Harry dove to the other side of the bed just as Lisa screamed and slammed the door shut again.
Harry felt his cheeks grow inflamed as he realized his best friend had just seen him in his birthday suit. How embarrassing was that?
“Lisa!”
“I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't realize you were naked!”
As Lisa babbled apologies from behind the door, Harry rushed to get himself clothed. At the same time, his face felt like someone had cast incendio on it. This, of course, was because his best friend seemed to have a habit of mentioning how she had seen nude state in between every, 'I'm sorry', she said, which made it even more humiliating.
God, he really wished he didn't have eidetic memory right now. How was he supposed to look at his friend after this, when each time he did he would remember how she had seen him naked?
After he finished getting dressed, Harry took several deep breaths and attempted to clear his mind. It would not do for him to let this fluster him. It was beneath him to get so embarrassed over something like this, he told himself.
Sighing, he opened the door.
“Oh god, I'm so sorry Harry! I didn't mean to walk in on you while you were naked! I thought you would be dressed by now! I—”
Harry quickly covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her from saying anymore.
“It's fine,” Harry assured the girl once he knew she was listening. “Really, it was an accident. I'm not mad. Let's just... let's just put this behind us and pretend it never happened. Ok?”
Lisa, her face looking like a lit up neon sign, nodded so emphatically that she looked like one of those bauble head dolls. It would have been amusing if he weren't so embarrassed.
He took his hand from her mouth and tried to smile. He wasn't quite sure it came out right.
The walk down the hall was incredibly awkward. Neither could even look at each other. The few times they did, both would catch each other looking the others way, flush a bright shade of red, then look away again. By the time they reached the living room their faces were the brightest shade of red anyone had ever seen.
In an effort to focus on something other than how his best friend saw him naked, Harry took a look at the living room. It looked mostly the same as always, except for the tree that stood off to the side in a corner of the room. Sporting hundreds of lights and nearly twice as many ornaments, the Christmas tree was very beautiful and set a warm and comfortable mood.
It did very little to help.
Around the tree Harry counted two dozen presents. Most of them, he knew, were for Lisa. This was not something that really bothered him. These people had taken him in, but they were not really his family. That they actually bought him presents at all when his real family had never given him so much as a 'happy Christmas' was more than he could ever ask for.
As the two walked in they saw Mr. Crawft sitting on one of the leather chairs near the couch reading the morning newspaper. There was a cup of steaming coffee on the coffee table in front of him. He looked up when he saw the two come in and frowned.
“Lisa, what was all that yelling about?”
“Ah...” The young brunette tried to speak, but she, like Harry, seemed incapable of doing anything more than lighting up like the Christmas tree several feet away from them.
“She, uh, well...” Harry coughed into his hand several times and tried to clear his mind again. It didn't work as well as it usually did, but it did help. A little. “Let's just say she walked into an embarrassing situation and leave it at that.”
Mr. Crawft's frown deepened. He opened his mouth to speak, but was beaten to the punch by his wife, who walked in from the kitchen.
“Breakfast is ready. Dear, can you—oh! Harry, Lisa, I hadn't realized you two were already here. Breakfast is ready, so I want all of you to come to the table.”
Breakfast that morning was nothing like it usually was. Normally, Harry and Lisa would trade banter while they ate, or Lisa would talk Harry's ear off and he would just nod and agree with everything she said, but today, they were both silent.
Lisa's mother seemed to notice this immediately.
“Are you two alright?” she asked, “You're both being awfully quiet.”
“We're fine,” Harry replied quickly, maybe a little too quickly. Sitting beside him, Lisa nodded her head, once more doing her best bauble head impression.
“Really?” Ms. Crawft asked, not looking like she believed his words for a second. Thankfully, she did not press the subject, for now. Harry knew the woman well enough to know that she was most likely just biding her time, waiting for a chance for either him or Lisa—most likely Lisa—to drop their guard so she could learn what happened. Hopefully, she would not learn about it until long after Harry left. He didn't think he could stand the teasing she would give him.
Harry was glad that some form of normalcy managed to return by the time they started opening presents. It must have been the thought of gifts that caused Lisa to return to an almost normal state, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and simply thanked whatever deity—karma he suspected—that was watching out for him.
Many of the presents Lisa got from her parents were all the normal things a girl her age would usually get: clothes, posters of her favorite pop singers, some of the newer movies that came out, and some of the collectable dolls she liked for some reason. On the other hand, Lisa's mother had bought him several books he had yet to read, and a few martial arts movies featuring Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan.
“Is that all of them?” asked Lisa, looking around the Christmas tree with a small frown on her face. Harry smiled, he knew what she was looking for.
“No.” She turned to him when he spoke. He could see her cheeks flush a bit. Truthfully, so did his. But he pushed on before they could both lose their nerve and look away. “It's not. There's one more present for you, but I wanted you to open it last. Wait here.”
Harry went into his room and grabbed the package wrapped neatly in green and red wrapping paper. When he came back into the living room everyone was looking at him, Lisa with curiosity, her mother with a soft smile, and her father with a frown.
By now he'd managed to regain mastery over the flow of his blood, and was thankfully able to keep from blushing when he looked at Lisa and set the gift on her lap. She looked at the box curiously, then looked up at him with a question in her eyes. He smiled.
“Well, go on, open it.”
Lisa opened the box much more slowly than she did the other ones, Anticipation etched onto her face clear as day. She wanted to know what her best friend had given her this time. Last year it had been a small, beautifully crafted music box that he found in an antique shop. She still had it sitting on her desk and had played it nearly ever night since Harry left for school.
When she finally opened the box and took a look inside, her eyes widened significantly.
“This is...”
“The new Tiffany Princess dress you were looking at a while ago,” Harry finished for her. She stared at him, her eyes wide. Sitting on the couch her mother's eyes were also wide while her father looked at them all in confusion.
“Harry... I...”
Harry smiled at his friend's speechlessness.
“Why don't you try it on,” He suggested. Lisa nodded, still unable to express herself properly, and quickly left the room to try on her new outfit.
“Harry.” Lisa's mother eyed the boy carefully. “You really didn't have to get her that dress. It's very expensive.”
“I know,” Harry replied with a small shrug. “But I wanted to. The truth is, I found out a while ago that my parents were incredibly rich. The money I put into that bank account at HSBC Holdings where Mr. Crawft works isn't even a fourth of what I actually own.” It wasn't even one-hundredth of what he owned. “I figured splurging a little bit wouldn't hurt. And besides,” he added in a softer voice, “Lisa's my best friend. I can't think of anyone else I would rather spend my money on.”
Mrs. Crawft's eyes softened and a pleased smile sprang to her lips. She seemed truly appreciative hearing him say such a thing, probably because he had never openly admitted it before. Meanwhile, Mr. Crawft frowned at him in a way that made Harry think the man was looking at him like he was some kind of bug to be stepped on.
A second later, Lisa walked back into the living room, garbed in her princess gown. Harry had to admit that the lighter shade of red complimented her pink cheeks nicely.
“So, what do you guys think?” asked Lisa, twirling around for them. Mrs. Crawft clapped lightly for her daughter while Mr. Crawft's frown simply grew more prominent.
“You look lovely,” Lisa's mother complimented her daughter. Lisa beamed a smile her, then turned to Harry.
“Do you think I look good in this, Harry?” she asked, her cheeks darkening slightly. Harry smiled.
“You look beautiful,” he complimented with a smile, “Just like a real princess.”
The redness present soon spread to the rest of her face and down her neck. She tilted her head and looked at her feet.
“Do you... do you really mean that?” she asked lowly. Harry rolled his eyes.
“I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it.”
“I know,” she admitted, reaching out to grab her right arm with her left hand and rub it slowly. “It's just that... you've never really said anything like that before.”
Harry closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. She was right. He knew she was right. The truth was Harry had never really paid Lisa many compliments. This was the first one.
How horrible was that? In the five years they had known each other, he had never once given her a real compliment. Lisa had never complained. She understood that was just how Harry was, and had never seemed to be bothered by it, but now that Harry was thinking in these terms, he couldn't help but feel awful.
“Not anymore.”
“Harry?” Lisa blinked as Harry stood up and walked over to her. She blushed when he placed both hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes.
“You,” he started in a tone that was so serious even Mr. Crawft looked surprised, “Are one of the most beautiful girls I know. That dress only enhances that which you already possess.”
Lisa flushed, and at the same time small tears formed at the corner of her eyes. The brunette buried her face in Harry's chest and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, a hug that Harry reciprocated in full.
“Thank you,” Lisa murmured, her voice only somewhat muffled by his shirt.
“There's no need to thank me for stating the obvious,” he told her, causing her to giggle. He smiled as the girl snuggled against him with a happy sigh, pleased that he was the cause for her happiness.
The tender moment between the two friends was rudely interrupted by the flash of a camera and the cooing of Mrs. Crawft, as well as the grinding of Mr. Crawft's teeth.
“Oh isn't this adorable!”
“Mum!”