The Importance of Intent: After the Credits

Step Brothers - Part 2

As they entered Daphne was struck by how antiseptic everything seemed...as if no-one was allowed to enjoy themselves within its confines. Unlike the pleasant sameness and symmetry of the neighborhood this was...too much. It was stifling in its quest for orderliness.

"I'll just be a minute," Harry stated as he headed for the staircase.

"I'll come with you," she instantly volunteered, not wanting Harry to be alone any more than necessary. He'd been alone for years in this house.

"I'd rather you stayed down here, Daph," he pleaded softly as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "My room is sort of like my shoddy clothes...embarrassing."

"I don't care about that, Harry," she replied.

"I know you don't," he answered, falling into his now less frequent habit of staring at his shoes. "But I do. You've really helped today but I'd rather do this alone. I just want to get it over and done with."

"Okay," she said with a soft smile before kissing him quickly. "I love you," she repeated, extracting another smile.

"I love you too," he said as he embraced her. "Remember your promise."

"No magical revenge," she replied in his ear. "I promise."

As he pulled away and headed up the stairs his soft expression morphed into one of determination, clearly wanting to complete the task as quickly as possible.

As she waited for Harry to return Daphne scanned the living room looking for any sign that Harry lived there. Anything at all. Despite the overabundance of pictures on the wall not one included Harry. This was never Harry's home. Daphne seethed.

She quickly sat down and attempted to not think about how ignored Harry had been in this house. As the seconds dragged on her failure to remain calm grew exponentially as the Dursleys' disinterest in Harry seemingly seeped from the pores of the place. Without another thought she retreated to the kitchen. A change of scenery was desperately needed.

The kitchen was much better. It was just as bland, just as antiseptic, but there were no family pictures to be found making it much easier to forget that Harry was not included. She leaned against a nearby counter and exhaled, willing herself once again to remain calm.

She spotted a step stool nestled away in a corner and cursed to herself, imagining a younger Harry using it to prepare breakfast for his 'family.' Her mother had always told her context was essential when forming impressions and the Dursley household drove that fact home in spades. Without context it could be judged as the home of a slightly boring but loving family. With context it was the most foul place Daphne had ever been in, beating the Chamber by leaps and bounds.

Her growing uneasiness was interrupted by the sound of a door opening and someone muttering to themselves from another room. The voice was decidedly not Harry's.

Harry's paranoia coupled with her family's obsession with preparation had immediately sprung her into action as she prepared for one of Riddle's remaining rats to scurry into the room. Without a thought Daphne pulled out her wand and pointed it toward the entryway and grasped her necklace/portkey in case a quick escape was necessary, ready for a confrontation and a quick escape.

To her relief and surprise this did not happen. Instead it was a very large boy dressed in tacky muggle clothing and sporting music headphones while rapping to himself...very badly. In his hands was a plate with the largest sandwich Daphne had ever seen. This had to be Dudley. Fear turned to anger as she released the portkey and pointed her wand fiercely at the idiot, waiting for him to notice her.

She watched as the boy sat down at the kitchen table and began eating, so wrapped up in the music that was playing and the food in front of him that he hadn't noticed the wand pointed his direction. The sight of Dudley eating was only slightly preferable to his horrible rapping.

"Dursley," she finally stated loudly and angrily, tired of waiting for the oaf to concentrate on something besides stuffing his face.