The Talent Show

Chapter 26

"How did I get roped into this again?" Harry asked the empty room.

"You thought it was a good idea when your vassal presented it and I was not there to advise you it wasn't," Lord Black replied as he walked into the Great Hall.

"Yeah, have I thanked you for helping?"

"No, because I am not helping. I hired it done. Event planners do this all the time. There is no reason for me to reinvent the wand, after all." Sirius said imperiously.

"And, best of all, I do not have to deal with the Headmaster."

Harry and Sirius shared a smile at dodging that bullet.

"Oh, and because Draco said you needed to do something to elevate the Potter name before the end of the year and this was the best idea you came up with on such short notice," Sirius reminded him softly.

"It seems Draco's 'good ideas' usually involve me doing something and he somehow reaps the benefits. At least I think he is reaping the benefits. I rarely understand how he benefits, but he would not ask me to do things if he were not benefitting, right?"

"Absolutely." Sirius agreed.

"A talent show where I am providing the prizes. I am the first act, even though I cannot win. And I am one of three judges." Harry sighed.

"Yep," Sirius agreed.

"And it is too late to cancel and just hand out scholarships?"

"Far too late," Sirius nodded sagely.

"So, Lord Potter, how is your marital bliss coming along?" Lord Black asked airily.

Grimacing, Harry replied, "Yeah, about that…"

Previously in Lord Potter's Quarters

"We need to talk."

Harry didn't know Daphne had entered the great room, thus her voice surprised him into whipping his neck around, resulting in a loud crack of protest from his neck.

Daphne smiled. Her husband usually kept track of everything around him. 'Situational awareness' he called it. Mother said it was very common in men who had endured traumatic episodes, wars and such. It was so hard to sneak up on him, it gave her pleasure to be able to occasionally.

"Husband, I am sorry for my recent behavior."

Harry raised an eyebrow and waited. Daphne noted this was a very common expression and he should probably find other ways to express himself. But decided that was a conversation for another day. This conversation would be enough trouble for one sitting.

"I am sorry I did not explain exactly why I was annoyed. I am sorry for denying you access to my body as per the contract. I am sorry for indicating you should leave your room."

She watched him, looking for any sign her apology was having an effect.

"Why did you do it?" Harry asked in a soft growl, not looking at her face.

"That is another thing I am sorry for. I misunderstood some of my mother's comments about how married life should be handled. That misunderstanding led me to behave in a manner not in keeping with my training."

"And what should you have done, according to Lady Greengrass?"

"I cannot tell you. She made me swear not to. 'There must be a mystery about you at all times or your Lord my decide you are too familiar and start to stray.' She said."

"No need to worry about that," Harry muttered.

"You think you would never stray?"

"If by stray you mean have relations with another woman because I understand you too well and no longer hold you in proper esteem? Then yes, I am certain I will never stray because I have no idea what you are apologizing for!"

"Which is what my mother, the Lady Greengrass, explained to me. I was giving you enough time to figure it out on your own, not realizing you were likely to never figure it out. That is why she came last weekend. She decided a face to face chat was needed because obviously she had 'failed me' somehow."

"By the way, she made it quite apparent we should be having relations more often than we do…"

Daphne looked at Harry until he raised his head.

"But we only did that on our wedding night!"

"Exactly…"

Daphne neglected to inform her husband that banishing him from his bed until he figured out what he did wrong, would have worked much better had they been engaging in relations on a nightly basis. Still, no reason to give him advance warning. That trick will work in a few years.

Harry shook his head vigorously. Even when women answer your questions, you are still left wondering what the answer is.

"Until we become 'more active', Mother suggested I become blunter in communicating any distress or disapproval I may feel. With that in mind…"

Daphne drew herself up straight, taking a deep breath, then began.

"Husband, your approach to delivering threats has all the finesse of a troll sorting silverware, which is to say, none."

Harry attempted to defend himself, "But you gave Flint that evil smile of yours. You said I give the best presents! You SMILED at me!" Harry remembered that smile. It was… yes... it most certainly was…

"And what would you have me do, Husband?" Daphne said in a rush. "Should I berate you in public for being so obvious?"

Harry had to admit, even if only to himself, that would not have worked well. Nor would he have appreciated it.

"But when we returned to our quarters, you could have told me. You could have said something to clue me in!"

"You are the one who said you are a Slytherin hiding in Hufflepuff. I expected you to figure it out." Daphne snarled in frustration.

"Yes, but you are forgetting something major."

No longer in a mood to appear conciliatory, she asked, "What might that be, Husband?"

"You know, when you say 'Husband' like you have just discovered something nasty on the soup spoon you have been using, I would prefer you just call me dumbass."

Daphne's eyes snapped up to meet Harry's gaze. He was not smiling. There was no indication he was teasing.

"You accuse me of having the grace of a bull in a china shop and become annoyed at me, kicking me out of my own bed… Speaking of, of all the things you did, that hurt the most. That caused the most distance to creep between us. I have hinted at how the Dursleys raised me. How they treated me. How they mistreated me. No details, but enough your Slytherin guile should have guessed most of it. I was given my larger cousin's cast-offs to wear. They fit me about as well as Lord Blacks garments would fit you. I was fed enough to keep me alive while my cousin was fed enough to turn him into a baby killer whale, although not nearly so cute. And anything, ANYTHING I might find they thought MIGHT bring some joy into my life? It was confiscated and destroyed, often in front of me to make sure I knew. I had almost nothing that was mine. A few shiny coins I found, a comic book torn in half, things no one else would consider special. But they were mine. I hid them so I could keep them. The ONLY thing that was 'mine' that they knew about was my juggling balls. And they only let me keep those because Duddikins was working me like a trained monkey to make money in the parks. And every evening he would take all the money I made. Sometimes he even beat me up because I didn't make enough money for him to steal. He accused me of holding out on him."

Daphne sat still, mostly in shock, but that part of her brain still capable of rational thought was making a list of some very nasty things to happen to Harry's 'family'.

"So, imagine my delight at being given this suite of rooms, just for being me, Lord Potter. Four beds! From the day Voldemort killed my parents until the day I received my Hogwart's letter, I lived in a cupboard under the stairs. I had a baby bed size mattress and one ratty and torn blanket. But here, suddenly, I had a bed larger than even my Aunt and Uncle have. It was soft, comfortable… There were no spiders dropping onto me in the night. No one stomping on the ceiling screaming my name to get my lazy ass out of bed and get to work on all the chores. And it had the most wonderful, soft, warm, living, breathing, cuddle pillow the Lord has ever created…"

"Imagine that. Imagine you had nothing. You had never had anything of your own. Then suddenly you have what you assume is normal. A bathroom of your own. A bed of your own. A wife of your own. And then it is all taken away by the one person you should be able to trust with your secrets."

"Imagine that. And then tell me how you think you would feel."

Harry stood quickly and turned away to hide his red eyes. He wasn't crying, but it was a near thing.

Without looking back, Harry said roughly, "I'm going to the Hufflepuff common room. I'll be back in a couple of hours to hear your response."

Harry never made it to Hufflepuff. When he got to the door to the common room, he realized there was nothing in there to comfort him. Daphne was supposed to be his better half.

Where do you run when you can't run to the one you need?

Harry wandered passed Hufflepuff and continued to wander aimlessly until it was time to return to his cold quarters. At least the couch is comfortable.

Don't Call Me Nymphadora Tonks continued to ghost behind Harry. Not knowing what was going on, she could tell he was upset. But he wasn't crying. He never stopped to berate the fates or just give in to a good bout of cursing.

But he was clearly upset, and he is a Hufflepuff and she is a Hufflepuff, so she continued to shadow him, to make sure nothing untoward happened to him. Hufflepuffs take care of their own.

The little voice in the distant recesses of her mind that screamed LIAR was told to shut the hell up.

Harry was greeted by a new experience as he stepped into his quarters. He was accosted by his tearful wife as he moved toward the couch.

"I didn't know, I didn't know, "Daphne sobbed.

"I know you didn't. My relatives know. Draco knows. Sirius strongly suspects, I think. And now you sorta know."

"The scars. All your scars. I thought they were from rough play. Things boys do. Climb trees and fall out. Stupid things. But they aren't, are they?"

"No", Harry murmured into her hair as he held her and stroked her back.

"They are responsible, aren't they?"

Harry didn't need 'they' defined.

"Yes."

"All of them? Were none due to accidents?"

"Not a one."

"I'm going to kill them, slowly, painfully. Then I will resurrect them and kill them again."

"No, you aren't. Not because you are not capable, but because I have a better idea. After Hogwarts, I will write a biography detailing everything that has happened to me. Once I publish it, I doubt the Dursleys will survive another 3 weeks." Harry murmured.

"Very Slytherin of you My Husband," Daphne purred into Harry's chest.

"And that's a secret, My Wife," Harry chuckled.

"But, I will tell you something that is not a secret," Harry whispered.

Daphne waited.

"I'm a boy"

"That's no secret!" Daphne said with a blush.

"I'm a boy. My first kiss was with you. I have never had a girlfriend. I have never been on a date. I have never had a positive relationship of a personal nature with anyone, ever. So, I am walking clueless here. If you expect me to figure something out in this relationship, give up. Tell me as bluntly as you can."

Pulling back from her and holding her shoulders at arm's length, "Just please do it in private."

Pulling her back into a hug, "This is our first big fight. I don't ever want to have another one that takes this long to resolve.

"Husband," Daphne said softly.

"Yes, Wife?" Harry smiled. Husband didn't sound like dumbass this time.

"Sleep with me tonight, please?"

"As My Lady wishes," Harry laughed.

***Back to Present***

"Harry?" Sirius asked.

"Yes?" Harry replied.

"I asked how your relationship with Daphne was going. You said, 'about that', then you stopped talking. Is there are a problem?"

"No, everything is fine. She just thought I was a lot smarter than I actually am."

Harry smiled.

"That doesn't sound like a wife's normal understanding of a fight." Sirius commented.

"She thought I would figure out why she was annoyed with me and was giving me time to figure it out. Turns out, I'm not that smart." Harry laughed.

"Ah, the old 'if you don't know, I'm not telling you' gambit. Classic."

"Husband?"

Sirius and Harry turned to see Daphne entering the Hall.

"Lady Potter," Harry called to her.

"The Headmaster has requested your presence in his office."

"Probably something to do with the Talent Show. If I ever do another Talent Show, please thump me on the head…"

"Absolutely," Sirius said as he thumped Harry on the head.

"I said IF"

"You know you will. That was a preemptive strike!" Sirius laughed.

"Lady, shall we depart this room of ruffians?"

"As My Lord wishes," Daphne replied as she took his arm.

As they were leaving the Great Hall, Sirius looked around.

"This is going to be Epic!"

-=== Headmaster's Office ===-

"Harry" Dumbledore began.

"Lord Potter" Daphne interrupted.

With a disapproving look at 'Lady Potter', Dumbledore returned his focus to Harry Potter.

"Lord Potter, I would like to discuss some extremely sensitive issues with you and having as few people as possible privy to the information could prove lifesaving. Won't you reconsider and ask Lady Potter to meet you in the great hall for lunch?" Dumbledore chided gently.

"Headmaster, you were witness to the unbreakable oath Daphne took. You know she cannot repeat anything I declare a family secret. So, your only real concern would be if you cannot convince me this should stay a secret, in which case I would be as much liability as she."

"So, you say Lord Potter. Well, 'needs must', as they say," he conceded.

"Excuse me?"

"'Needs must when the devil drives', Husband," Lady Potter clarified. "It is an old saying, predating the colonies. It translates to roughly, 'Given the situation, I have no choice'."

"Ah, an interesting phrase. I may have to use that from time to time. Thank you, Wife."

"Yes, well, if we can continue now," Dumbledore stated. He was not used to being interrupted or having one of his mysterious little phrases explained on the spot. He found it annoyed him more than he would have expected.

"When your mother died, Lord Potter, she left a powerful protective magic on you. Magic which needs to be recharged from time to time."

"Recharged how?" Harry asked slowly, expecting some unpleasant twist.

"Your mother, Lily, used forbidden magic, blood magic, to grant you protection from Voldemort. The magic needs an anchor. That anchor is living with your relatives. For as long as you live for at least a month per year in your Aunt's home, the protection remains anchored and continues to protect you."

"What if they have no affection for me? Would it still work as an anchor?"

"It is Blood Magic, Husband. Blood is the important part. They could brand your flesh, whip you into unconsciousness, starve you, or work you harder than any house elf. It would still protect you from the Dark Lord," Daphne explained.

"Voldemort," Harry injected. "His name is Voldemort."

"Lord Potter, … Husband, … before you were born, that name attracted unwanted attention. Many died because they said that name. I ask you not try to force me to say that name."

"I thought only his followers called him the Dark Lord," Harry commented.

'As do I,' Dumbledore thought.

"He has several names. Lord Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who, and more. I prefer 'The Dark Lord'. It is shorter than some. It does not contain the V word. And does not sound like a three-year-old crying about the monster under the bed," she answered.

"Why not call him something generic, at least between you and me?" Harry asked.

Shrugging, "If that is your wish, Husband, I have no objection. What generic something would you like me to call him, when we are alone?"

Dumbledore felt like he had been cut out of the conversation. He was not used to being ignored and was caught unawares when Harry next spoke.

"Tom. We should call him Tom," Harry grinned.

Dumbledore's eyes betrayed his surprise or perhaps that was just a side effect of choking on his lemon drop.

"Why 'Tom', Husband?" Daphne asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, we are talking generic names. What is more generic than 'Tom', as in 'Every Tom, Dick, and Harry'?" Harry laughed.

"Tom, Dick, and Harry?" she asked.

"Must be a mundane thing," Harry responded. "'Every Tom, Dick, and Harry' means every man on the planet. I do not want my name associated with 'him'. 'Dick' has other connotations, although they may be more accurate," Harry smirked with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Calling V-man 'Dick' could be cathartic." 'And the lessons with Hermione will have to continue. Wait until I tell her I used 'cathartic' in a discussion with the headmaster!' "So, that leaves 'Tom' as the most generic name for him, in my opinion."

Returning his gaze to the Headmaster, Harry noted he looked a bit confused between shock and laughter.

"Do you not approve, Headmaster?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side as he took in Dumbledore's body language.

"Tom, you say?" the headmaster responded with a grin and a chuckle. "Yes, I think that is an appropriate name for Voldemort."

With a chuckle, Dumbledore continued, "The blood magic will protect you from 'Tom' until you turn seventeen. I might be able to extend it passed that but have a few things to check before attempting it."

"So, the blood magic will protect me from Tom, but not from my relatives. What about Tom's followers? Will the blood magic protect me from death eaters?"

Waggling his hand in a 'so-so' sort of manner, "Yes and no. The protection versus death eaters is more problematic. While you are physically there, the magic will hide you from detection and prevent those who wish to harm you from approaching. When you are away from your home, the protection is very limited."

"Okay, let me see if I understand this. Blood magic, which I understand is very illegal, cast by my mother protects me from Tom. This magic grants me significant protection from Tom. However, it does not prevent my relatives from abusing me, nor does it prevent death eaters from harming me if they find me away from that house. In fact, the magic only protects me from a dead man."

Looking Dumbledore in the eyes, "Is that about right, sir?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and waited.

Daphne grew pale. Then she began to tremble. Reaching out, she took Harry's hand, squeezing it hard.

"Daphne?" Harry asked with concern. "Daphne, what's wrong?"

Lady Potter whispered, "He's not dead…"

"He's not dead. He's Not Dead. HE IS NOT DEAD!"

Harry sprang from his seat and pulled Daphne against him as she sobbed into his shoulder. Looking into the Headmaster's eyes, he asked coldly, "Do you have any other bombshells you want to throw around? Are you actually Grindelwald? Death incarnate? Satan, perhaps?"

"I did ask she not be included in this discussion," the headmaster replied innocently as he casually popped another sherbet lemon into his mouth..

-=== A short time later, after a cheering charm or two ===-

"Perhaps you could explain to me how the Dark Lord everyone thinks is dead… isn't," Harry inquired politely.

This set alarms ringing in Dumbledore's head. That level of politeness was never about being polite.

"He isn't dead. But, he isn't alive either," Albus explained, insufficiently.

With his wife grasping his right hand for comfort, Harry motioned with his left to continue, but didn't comment.

Albus suppressed his annoyance. Getting the other person to ask the leading questions was a method he commonly employed to control a conversation. 'Lord Potter' was interrupting his flow.

"Yes, well, on the evening your parents died, Tom…"

"Murdered."

"Excuse me?" Albus queried.

"Murdered. My parents were murdered. Tom murdered them. Tom is a murderer. As in Capital Crime. As in worthy of the death penalty. Murder," Harry stated flatly.

"Har… Lord Potter, Great Britain doesn't execute prisoners. Tom is a murderer, but he is not eligible for the death penalty. No one is," Dumbledore corrected Harry as he looked at him with disapproval.

"Actually, sir, while the last executions for murder in mundane Great Britain were in 1964, Peter Allen and Gwynne Evans, Great Britain maintains the death penalty for high treason, piracy, arson in the Royal dockyards, and espionage. It is my belief that acts of Tom rise to that of high treason. If he has ever attacked a water vessel with the intent to take anything on it and committed murder or grievous bodily harm, then he has also committed piracy. Even with the more lenient attitude of Great Britain toward murder, Tom has still earned the death penalty many times over."

Harry had recited this with a certain amount of boredom, yet silently thanked Draco for hammering certain points home during their weekly meetings.

"Lord Potter, as a society we have elevated ourselves above petty vengeance," Albus said as he became more concerned with Harry's attitude.

Lord Potter interrupted, "Headmaster. How many of those who claimed Imperious as their defense are now walking about our society? How many who supported Tom and his followers were never caught? How many would support Tom again, if they knew he was not dead? Society pretends it has advanced to a more civilized state. Yet the men who make up that society have not. The only way your ideal is possible is if you have an overwhelmingly superior force. Tom's supporters, without Tom, could be handled as you describe if you can end the corruption that allows them to buy their way to freedom. With Tom, according to the histories I read, they brought magical Great Britain to its knees. Rumor has it, only you are powerful enough to stand toe to toe with Tom and survive."

"So, Headmaster, I ask you… what happens to the rest of us when you die?"

AN: For those wondering, No, Harry and Daphne didn't have sex. You really do need hormones to make you crazy. But they had just had their first fight and it was a doozy from their point of view. They want to hold each other, cuddle, and fall asleep in each other's arms. They each needed the same thing, the assurance everything was okay again.