Black coffee, with sugar

Chapter 8

Harry entered her kitchen in the worst moment possible - and while Daphne really needed to talk with him, ask about how Skeeter found out, if she and her daughter would be safe from that woman, if his wife wouldn't do anything about it, it wasn't the best moment.

"I'm going to the market, Harry, so unless you want to come with me, make yourself at home.", she told him, struggling a bit to close Lilian's cream and blue robes. It had been a gift from Blaise during Lilian's birthday, and the girl seemed to like how it was soft.

Harry looked at her, and Lilian turned to face him, smiling brightly, like a small sun.

"Hi, uncle Harry!"

"Hello, Lilian. Where are you and your mom going?", he asked, and Daphne, cleaning her dark green robes, rose up, his familiar green eyes following Daphne as she gently plopped Lilian in a chair, starting to braid the girl's untamable black hair. It was those moments Daphne wished Lilian had her hair. "Somewhere cold?"

"We are going to Portree!", Lilian chirped, and he rose an eyebrow at Daphne. She had never liked the village too much - Daphne had been raised near there, for Merlin's sake, she knew how it was well enough to dislike it. Although, maybe the dislike was conditioning from her Muggle-hating parents; when she had visited the city with Harry, only once, she had liked it enough -, but she needed something from there.

"I need to brew a potion, and I'm lacking faerie dust. Portree has the freshest faerie dust, as we both know it,", Daphne replied, with a sigh. Lilian nodded, and Daphne shushed her, trying to tame her hair.

"I see. Would you mind if I went with you?", Harry hummed, and Daphne was shell shocked for long enough that her daughter turned to face her, puppy eyes and all, almost begging for her to say yes.

Daphne had only one fear, and it was that, somewhere deep inside, Lilian knew Harry was her father. Daphne didn't want her daughter to know - not yet, at least, she was too young. Maybe after Hogwarts, when her daughter wouldn't have the need to worry about hiding it from anyone. A mind that didn't know anything was, after all, a guilt-free mind, after all.

However, Lilian got attached to people very easily. It was probably just that.

"Fine, you can go, Harry. One of your old robes must be in my closet, go pick it up.", she told him, and it was Harry's turn to smile like the sun, rising up. Daphne would gladly blind herself, and kept brushing Lilian's hair as he went to her room.

It was only when Harry closed the door that Lilian spoke up.

"Why is uncle Harry's robe in your closet, mum?", she asked, trying to look up, and Daphne gently put her daughter to look forward once more, not feeling the floor under her feet. And there was Daphne hoping she wouldn't have to tell Lilian anything before the right time came.

"We know each other for a long time, sweetheart, and some of his clothes stayed with me,", Daphne told her, and Lilian perked up.

"Oh! Like uncle Blaise?", the girl asked, and Daphne chuckled, a breath she didn't know she was holding letting go. Blaise was a good friend, yes, her daughter's godfather, and Lilian loved him... Well, like an uncle, considering the little girl wouldn't have a comparative for a father, and that Blaise spent long times away.

"Yes, sweetheart, like uncle Blaise.", Daphne finished the braid, and patted her daughter's shoulder. "Alright, there you go. Pick up your bag, I know you'll want something."

"Okay!", Lilian jumped from the chair, running through the kitchen, and almost hitting Harry, dressed in the old black robe Daphne had bought him almost a lifetime ago, when she had been appalled to find he had no travel clothing. She smiled at him, softly, and spelled the machine to make coffee.