Okay, first. So this is the first piece of fiction that I have written since forever. If you guys have comments, suggestions, witty or not so witty criticisms, virtual or not so virtual flames, please do send them to me. I need to find my voice again. Thank you.

Second, this is canon compliant with a complete disregard for the epilogue. Set in present times, both Harry and Daphne are around the age of 33-34.

Hope you enjoy it!

Of Glass Ceilings and Entranced Damsels

He was in the Forest again.

Harry doesn't even blink, this has been the regular set up of his dreams since the war was won.

Since you won the war.

He ignores the voice and closes his eyes. He'll wake up soon.

"Haz."

His eyes open.

"Hazza."

It's not possible. He's always dreamed of the Forest, but he's never dreamed of her. Not even once. Why is he hearing her voice now?

He sees a doe patronus watching him by the rock, but instead of her beckoning him over she edges in closer. She's scared, maybe. Harry steps forward, nearing the patronus.

He tilts his head, confused. In reality, this doe patronus was Snape's; the shape of her mother's inner animal, but here, it's different. She's different.

"Daphne?" He asks.

He was answered by a laugh, "Wake up, sleepy head."

He opens his eyes, and the first sight he sees is the colour of steele blue.

"Your staff was about to call in a warding team to break down your door, you know." She says, her head twisting to the side to deliver a smile to one of the apprentice healers hanging by the door. "They're lucky I was on my way to see you."

Harry just stares at her for a while, unsure how to act and he's always been unsure when it comes to Daphne Greengrass, because she's Daphne Greengrass and she knows how to get under his skin.

"Are you going to say something, or are you just going to stare at my beauty?" Daphne jokes, only she doesn't. For all the years he has known her (and a whole lot of years it has been) she never jokes. She's too much of a Slytherin to give that kind of thinking up.

"Well, I was thinking about asking on what you're doing here, but I was distracted by a beautiful blonde perched on my desk." He replies to her question, well two could play that game.

She rolls her eyes.

He smirks back.

"What? You are beautiful." He continues. It had always been like this between them. Flirt, banter, mild annoyance, and repeat.

She looks at him. Like really looks at him in a way that unnerves him. She's worried about him, he catches on to that. She doesn't use the Slytherin Stare (Ice Queen Glare, he calls it.) at him unless she's concerned. His features shift into worry, Daphne was never worried about him nowadays.

"Daph." He says and he sees a weight settle upon her shoulders.

"Haz." She says back. "You're wife called me."

Wife. His eyes widen. Ginny? What? Why would she call Daphne? Was there something wrong?

He hears her sigh, as if already knowing that he's going through all the useless details and pinpointing where he went wrong. She's used to it. She's used to him.

"She says you haven't been home for four days and I asked around the Trauma department." She tells him with a certain degree of resignation. "What are you thinking pulling 96 hour shifts? You're not 24 anymore, Hazza."

"I'd give anything to be 24 again." He says before he thinks.

Her eyes widen.

Stupid Gryffindor breeding, his inner self seethes.

"Harry." She says, her tone broken. He will be the cause of his own death, he knows it.

Her hand moves to cup his cheek, "Harry." She repeats. "We've talked about this, remember?"

His eyes look into hers and he speaks. "We were 24 and we just finished a bloody 36 hour shift, Daphne." His tone cut her, he knew. "That conversation was lodged between me wanting to head the godawful Trauma department and you wanting to become the next Poppy Pomfrey." His tone was clinical and she flinched back. "How could I forget it? It was when I asked you to marry me."

She wipes the corner of her eyes and takes a deep breath. "And remember what I said after?"

I'm not Andromeda Black, Haz.

"I'm not Andromeda Black, Haz." She repeats for him. "And I'm not Ginevra Weasley. I'm not fit for you in the eyes of the Wizarding world and I'm not strong enough to face it."

Her hands were back on his cheek and she leans forward, "I'm not as strong as you'd need me to be."

She kisses him; close mouthed and short. She moves back and gets off her perch. "You're the hero everybody needs, Haz. I'm just a damsel entranced." She gives him a wave and walks out of his office.

A few seconds later, he hears a tap on his door. She's back, leaning on the door frame and tracing the print with her eyes.

Harry Potter, Healer Specialist
Chief of Trauma

"Forget something?"

She smiles at him, bright and broken. "Go home to your wife, Potter."

"Yes, ma'am." He salutes, going a bit for comedy.

She laughs and looks at him. "Later?" He asks.

"Later." She replies and walks away.

He sighs and gets up from his chair. He shakes his head, clearing the past few moments away. It's never a good idea to apparate with a wandering mind.