HP: The Magical Gamer

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Ah, yes, and it was such a relief to at last realise the ultimate truth. Everyone was a slave to fate and should be content in the few glimpses of joy they were granted in return for their long miserable life.

Asking for more, and desiring more was purely selfish and greedy.

She let herself go and accepted this beatific truth.

Meanwhile, Harry and Lily looked apprehensively at the blank-faced Daphne, who didn't seem to blink and was staring into space silently.

Harry felt as if she was drowning herself in her mind, trying to sink into the white noise and blank background, to find an escape from the truth and reality.

He honestly thought that it would have been better if she was yelling and sobbing instead of this… whatever this was.

He hadn't given much thought to the aftermath of Tim Greengrass' death. He had never been close to the man, never had a single conversation with him.

So, between choosing him and his aunt Proserpina, he easily chose the latter, not caring much when she killed him. In hindsight, he should have stopped her from that reckless action.

If he had done that, he wouldn't have had to face these grim consequences.

Looking at the emotionless face of his best friend, he didn't think she would ever heal from this. There was a certain aura of utter defeat enshrouding her as if she would never be able to walk again without slouching.

As if her eyes would forever remain on the ground subserviently.

Her effortlessly confident nature was permanently ruined, shattering itself into an unmendable mess.

But maybe he still had a chance. There still might be a way to stop her from breaking, to stop her from fading into a bleaker version of herself.

Yes, Harry had decided what he was going to do and was set on his path. He wouldn't let Daphne become someone so weak and dreary.

Never.

He sprang up to his feet, resulting in Daphne tumbling sideways onto the sofa's armrest, which finally got her out of her thoughts and made her blink.

"Wait for me." He said to her softly, patting her head. He glanced at his confused mother before walking up to the fireplace. He took a fistful of the floo powder and stepped into it, brimming with determination.

"Greengrass Manor!"

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Proserpina was slumped in an armchair beside her dead husband. If she had her way, she would be far away from here. She didn't want to see his ugly face any more than she needed to. That was why his body was covered with a white cotton sheet. Out of sight, out of mind.

She wished she could flee to Potter Manor and see for herself if her daughter was really fine. But the image had to be maintained.

She had to keep up the charade of being a mourning housewife, otherwise, uncomfortable questions would be raised. In retrospect, she had been a bit hasty and rash in killing Tim.

She should have made some plans before executing him. But at that time, she had been overcome with emotions after her talk with Harry. And what happened next was history.

Still, she didn't regret it. A weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she could breathe easily now. She wouldn't change a single thing about it if she got the chance to redo it.

The sounds of approaching footsteps drew her out of her reverie.

Harry marched through the door and stood before her. His jaw was set in resolution as he stared down at her.

Proserpina was surprised that he didn't even take a peek at her offered cleavage like he usually did. It must be a serious matter if this horny boy had something else in his mind other than tits and arse.

"Harry?" She uttered in befuddlement, not knowing why he was there.

"You have to tell them the truth." He said in a clear voice without a hint of hesitation.

Proserpina didn't even have to ask who 'them' were. She shook her head in denial, not having the courage to tell her daughters that she had been torturing their father all this time and killed him when she had her fill. That was the way to the destruction of her family.

Harry made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and grabbed her shoulders, yanking her up on her feet.

Proserpina gasped at being manhandled and shot him a scowl, his fingers digging into her shoulders, making her a tad bit uncomfortable. But the anger in his eyes was far more pressing than his fingers.

"Don't be a coward, aunty. If you'd seen how devastated Daphne became after hearing the news, you would understand what I'm feeling. It is better that Daphne and Astoria despise their father than mourn them. I would rather see them angry than broken."

"And believe me when I say that Daphne will never be the same if we let her go forward blindly. And I won't just stand on the sideline and let her go through it. Please, aunty, pull yourself together and tell them the truth. It is the best course of action."

The blonde woman gazed into his eyes, the conviction in them making her doubt her own decisions. Was her current path really the best way forward?

She thought about it as he stared imploringly at her.

The fear that her daughters might see her in the wrong instead of their father was what kept her from walking this path. She would rather die than see that come true.

She voiced her fears. "But what if they hate me? For keeping their father away from them? For tormenting him?"

Harry scoffed in derision. "They won't. They are smart girls. After what I've heard about Tim Greengrass from you, he seemed like a man who'd even betroth his daughters to ugly old men to keep the blood pure. Your daughters have learnt independence from you."

"They have known freedom because of you. They would be thankful for not becoming broodmares to be traded for favours and prestige. Believe in them. Believe in yourself. They love you more than the dream of having a father."

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