A Chance Meeting
Tracey
By Clell65619
A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with him. But you knew that.
Harry Potter and The Chance Meeting
Chapter Two: Tracey
This was her third try. Tracey had never imagined that just arranging to speak with someone could possibly be so difficult. Still, her friend was a busy woman. If nothing else the last two years had taught her a level of patience that she had never known before.
A meeting at Daphne’s Agent’s offices was the best opportunity to actually come into contact with her oldest friend. Tracey had attempted dropping in at her friend’s Brownstone, and even just showing up at one of Daphne’s photo shoots, but she could never manage to get past the security.
Not exactly true. If Tracey had actually tried, the security surrounding Daphne wouldn’t have slowed her down in the slightest, but that would have called attention to her and her abilities, something Tracey would never do.
Seated in Daphne’s agent’s office (the man bore an odd resemblance to Gilderoy Lockhart) Tracey patiently waited for her chance to reconnect to her oldest friend. In order to get this far Tracey had been forced to invent a fictional company looking to employ the remarkable Miss Daphne. Hopefully Daph would forgive the ruse.
Behind where Tracey was sitting the office door opened.
“Daphne, I’d like to introduce you to our latest client…” the Agent said. Tracey turned to face the pair in the doorway. “Daphne, this is Ms…”
“Tracey?” The world famous model/actress said, before rushing forward to hug her friend. “Tracey!”
“Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” the strawberry blond asked.
“There isn’t really a job is there?” Daphne asked, her eyes sparkling with silent laughter. Taking the look in Tracey’s eyes for a negative answer, Daphne turned to her agent. “Tommy, I refuse to work for this woman. We’re going to lunch.”
Daphne waited while Tracey gathered her things, then the pair left the office and the building arm in arm.
---===oooOOOooo===---
The pair spoke of meaningless things as long as they were in public. The sight of Daphne walking through the streets of New York attracted quite a bit of attention. Three times they were stopped by autograph seekers looking for their little bit of the beautiful Daphne. Their real conversation waited until the pair were safely ensconced in a secluded booth in the rear of a trendy restaurant.
Once they had ordered, Daphne watched as the waiter walked away, and then gestured with the tiniest wand Tracey had ever seen, erecting some most impressive privacy wards in a few seconds.
“It’s good to see you Trace… How long as it been? Two years?”
“Almost three. Not since the reunion at Hogwarts. I’d tell you you’re looking good Daph, but you already know that.”
“Thank you. The career’s going well. It turns out I can do more than just stand around looking like I’m smelling something unpleasant, though that has paid the bills quite nicely.”
“I’ve seen your movies Daphne; you were very good in all of them.”
“Thank you, but we both know you’re lying. ‘Shattered Dreams’ was a horrible mess that I made even worse. I knew then that if I was going to branch out from modeling, I would need to be better than that, so I took some lessons. I was better in the other two.” Their salads arrived. Daphne thanked the server, and then took a bite of her Cobb Salad. “Why are you here Tracey? I got an owl two years ago from your father asking if I knew where you were, and now you show up out of the blue.”
“I wanted to see you Daph, that’s all.”
“Finally ran away from home did you? If you’d have come with me when I asked you to, you’d be hotter than I am.”
“Right.”
“I’m serious Trace. You’ve got the looks that really work. Women take a look at you and know that if they worked hard enough, they could look like you, and men think that you might actually speak with them. That right there is money in the bank.” Daphne’s brow furrowed for a moment. “Wait, you saw my movies? Since when do you go to the Muggle cinema?”
“Since I heard my best friend was going to be in a movie.”
“Well thank you. So, what happened between you and your father? I knew something had gone very wrong as soon as he wrote me of all people given how much he always hated me.”
“Gerald Llewellyn contracted with Father for my hand.”
“Llewellyn? He’s seventy if he’s a day!” Daphne said, her nose crinkled in disgust.
“Well, yeah. Anyway, the night before the contract was to be finalized, I went out to get away from my mother and sisters. I wandered around London for an hour or so, and then I came across a Muggle pub. I decided to go inside, have a drink, and maybe find a man.”
“Always a good plan the night before you get married.” Daphne smiled.
“Somehow I knew you’d approve.” Tracey reached across the table and pushed her oldest friend’s shoulder. “I got a drink, and then I saw him.”
“Him?”
“Harry Potter.”
---===oooOOOooo===---
Daphne choked on her mineral water.
Wiping her mouth with a linen napkin, she regarded her oldest friend with wide eyes. You were wandering about London at random, then you just happened to walk into a random Muggle pub and Harry Bloody Potter just happened to be there?” Daphne shook her head. “That just seems so utterly unlikely. What did you do?”
“I took my drink and sat down with him.” Tracey said, smiling at the memory. “He didn’t even look at me, just asked that I go away and leave him alone.
“Ooh.” Daphne’s smile got even wider. “How badly did you hurt him? As I recall, ignoring Tracey Davis is a one way ticket to pain.”
Tracey blushed a bit. “I wasn’t really that Tracey anymore Daph. I was feeling sorry for myself pretty much full time then. I knew I wanted nothing to do with the contract my father had negotiated, but I lacked the courage to do anything about it. My going out that night was my one conscious act of rebellion. I was going to fuck and be fucked. It wasn’t until I saw the pain in Harry’s eyes I knew just who it was I was going to fuck.”
“So, you hauled him out of the pub?”
“No, we talked. We talked about the reunion at Hogwarts.”
“Where was he anyway?”
It was Tracey’s turn to smile. “He told me he was busy feeling sorry for himself and being drunk in Lisbon that night. He told me about his life since leaving school. He’s traveled and resisted anyone trying to make him a hero. Harry spends the majority of his time hunting dark wizards up to that point.”
Daphne shuddered. “He actually went looking for trouble? Back at Hogwarts, I always suspected he was a bit odd given his refusal to keep his head down, but to actually hunt dark wizards…”
“Anyway,” Tracey said, retaking control of the conversation. “I told him my sob story, and then we laughed at each other’s pathetic lives. Then Harry asked why I was wasting my time with him on the night before my wedding when I should be at my hen party or having a final fling.”
“And?” Daphne seemed to be extremely interested in her answer.
“I told him I was having a final fling. The idiot thought I meant that I was waiting for someone and speaking with him to pass the time.” Tracey smiled at the memory. “I asked him to take me home with him.”
“Did he faint?”
“No. I was surprised how quickly he shifted from seeing me as an acquaintance to a potential sex partner. We took a taxi to his flat; we talked for a little more. I told him what Draco tried to get us to do before the last Slytherin/Gryffindor match they both played in, and he bemoaned an opportunity lost.”
“We’d have hurt him.”
“That’s what I told him. I also told him what we did to Draco for offering us money. He laughed so hard I thought he was going to cry. We both did. Then I kissed him.”
“And?”
“And it was just lovely. I don’t know who she is, but someone trained him well, and if I ever find out who she is I’ll send her a thank you card.”
“Probably Ginny or Hermione Weasley.” Daphne said smirking.
“No, Harry told me that he never went that far with either of them.”
The use of ‘Harry’ caught Daphne’s attention, but she didn’t say anything.
“So, I asked him to take me to his bed. I went there expecting to fuck and be fucked. We didn’t. We made love. When we woke up in the morning, we did it again.” The waiter appeared, refilled their glasses, cleared their dishes and presented the bill.
“I’ve got this.” Tracey said, offering the waiter a credit card.
Daphne raised an elegant eyebrow… Tracey had a Muggle credit card? Where was this story going?
“Anyway, it was the morning of my wedding and I was in bed with Harry Potter, having the best sex of my life that didn’t include you Daphne. Harry asked if I had ever been to Bolivia.”
“Bolivia?” Daphne felt the pangs of the memories of the times she and Tracey had been together, both as a couple and with whatever man they both found attractive.
“Yes, Harry was heading to Bolivia to deal with a rising Dark Lord at the behest of a South American Ministry, and he asked me to come along. He offered me a job he described as telling him when he was being stupid. I suggested that he might be offering to pay me for sex, he denied it pointing out he knew my reaction to Draco doing that back at Hogwarts. No, he offered me, as he put it, ‘Adventure and a whole lot of stupidity’.”
“But why would he do that?”
“Harry suggested that he felt that we had connected that night. Or possibly he was tired of being alone, and thought that I might be as well.” Tracey blushed yet again. “What amazed me is that I found myself considering his offer.”
The waiter returned with Tracey’s credit card and the receipt for her to sign. The strawberry blond looked over the bill, and signed it. The young man (an actor between jobs no doubt Daphne thought) glanced at the receipt and seeing the generous tip smiled widely. “Thank you Ms. Potter, come again.”
---===oooOOOooo===---
Silence ruled over the table for a full ten count. “Ms. Potter?” Daphne finally asked.
“I sent Daddy a note saying that I wouldn’t be marrying Gerald, and I pointed out he had my younger sisters to sell if he felt the need. I accompanied Harry to New York where we spent three days getting used to the time zone changes and making love, and then a long flight to La Paz that ended up needing even more rest and intimacy before Harry went out into the jungle to find his target. He refused to let me come along on his hunt.”
Tracey took a long sip of her drink then continued. “Harry took care of ‘the problem’ as he called it, but he was horribly hurt in doing so. La Paz has an excellent Magical Hospital, but it still took most of a month and a half to put him back together again. I couldn’t leave his side. I knew I should, but… I couldn’t. I had actually fallen in love with the suicidal idiot somehow. As soon as he was healthy again, we flew to Las Vegas and married.”
Daphne’s lips twitched into a smile. “So to avoid getting married, you ran off and got married?”
“No, to avoid getting married to a man I didn’t love, I ran away. While running away, I found someone I did love and married him.” The two women rose from the table, Daphne deftly taking down her privacy wards. The pair exited the restaurant and began to walk along the crowded sidewalks of New York. “Harry doesn’t chase Dark Wizards anymore… I’ve guided his energy into his business holdings and he financed the Art Gallery I opened in the Village, and we’re doing very well. So well, Daddy would be salivating if he knew. It got so people wouldn’t leave him alone in Britain, even finding and besieging his Muggle flat. We relocated here. Almost no one here knows who Harry Potter is, and those few who do think him to be a man in his fifties.”
“You’ve done well Tracey. It sounds like when you ran from marrying an old man you saved two lives.” Daphne pulled her oldest friend into a hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“Have you got to be anywhere today?”
“No. I don’t have any jobs scheduled until Monday.
“Good. Would you like to come over tonight? Harry is quite handy in the kitchen.”
“He cooks?” Daphne was surprised. “I don’t think I’ve ever imagined Harry Potter cooking.”
---===oooOOOooo===---
In her life among the Muggles Daphne had visited many homes. A person’s home could tell you quite a bit about the person you were dealing with. The Potter home reflected the Potters in perfect detail. Tracey’s calculating brilliance counterbalancing Harry’s casual efficiency. The art on the wall were all original originals by talented unknowns, the furnishings classic pieces that faded into the decor without overwhelming it.
Even though she knew he would be there, Daphne was startled by the sight of Harry Potter coming out of the kitchen drying his hands on a dish-towel. The years since Hogswarts had treated the still young man well. Still on the short side, his body had filled out to where he exhibited a ‘healthy glow’ where before he seemed to be a perpetual victim of starvation.
“Daphne Greengrass… Or should I say ‘Daphne’?”
“Daphne is fine Potter. You’re looking well. Domesticity seems to agree with you.”
That crooked grin that Daphne remembered so well from their time at Hogwarts appeared. “Life with Tracey agrees with me Daphne. Welcome to our home.”
Tracey had noticed the strange owl wearing the bands of an International Post Owl, sleeping on the perch in the sitting room. “I see we got mail, anything important?”
“A request for a personal appearance.” Harry explained, without the obvious distaste he normally exhibited over such things on the rare occasions they managed to find him. “Bill Weasley has evidently taken over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. He’s asked that I appear as a guest lecturer on the topic of the second rise and fall of Voldemort. Evidently Binns is still teaching history and doesn’t consider it being worth mentioning since it doesn’t involve a Goblin uprising. Bill tells me that the whole idea is something of a myth to the kids in the school. Most of them don’t believe such a thing happened.”
“You should go.” Tracey said. “Use it as an excuse to see Teddy if nothing else. He’s a fourth year now.”
“I was thinking much the same thing.” Harry admitted. “Anyway, dinner will be ready in about half an hour. Do you like salmon Daphne?”
“Oh, yes.” One of the many advantages of being a witch was that Daphne, unlike many of her peers could actually eat. Her metabolism kept her trim.
---===oooOOOooo===---
The meal was excellent. Daphne marveled at what the man had accomplished in the small kitchen of the Potter’s apartment. Her own was used mostly as a place to keep a microwave for reheating restaurant take out meals. The dinner conversation ranged from memories of their time at Hogwarts to the prices at the local art galleries.
As the evening wore on Daphne started thinking about heading home. Harry had retired to the kitchen to clean up after his meal preparation.
“Spend the night.” Tracey said.
“Really?” asked Daphne, her interest peaking. “But what about…”
“Harry knows that I’m attracted to women.” The strawberry blond said maintaining eye contact. “He knows I’m attracted to you. That you were my first love. I’ve told him about our adventures, both the two of us alone and with men.”
“Where would he…”
Tracey smiled. “In our room. You and I will be in the guest room. Stay with me Daphne.”
Ten minutes later Harry returned to the sitting room to find it empty. He smiled thinking of his wife’s good fortune in reconnecting with her friend. With a gesture, he turned out the lights in the room and retired to his own room. If his time with Tracey had taught him anything it was that in the morning she would be ravenous for him.
There were worse things.
---===oooOOOooo===---
It was dark when Daphne woke. There was that momentary confusion that accompanies waking up in an unfamiliar place, and then the added confusion of noticing there was someone sharing the bed, while your memories reconnect and you recall the evening before.
Tracey. That was Tracey. A flush of happiness filled Daphne’s soul as she recalled the touch, smell and taste of her first love. But there was something wrong. Tracey was… crying?
Almost silent sobs wracked the body of her lover. Tracey was whispering something in her sleep. Pulling her close Daphne could just make out her friends mutterings.
“Harry? Oh Merlin Harry. Don’t die. Don’t leave me. Harry!”
The anguish in her whispers was palpable. Daphne didn’t know what to do. Should she wake Tracey up?
The raven haired beauty decided that her lover’s husband would know what to do. She separated herself from her old friend, and padded naked to the apartments master suite. Standing next to the bed she was about to call his name when he spoke.
“Is something wrong Daphne?”
A bit disconcerted that he could tell who she was even in the dark, Daphne answered. “I think Tracey’s having a nightmare. She’s speaking to you and crying.”
“Damn. She gets these nightmares from when I was stupid in La Paz. I’d best go to her. You can stay here, ok?”
“Harry…” Daphne hesitated. “Could I stay with her as well?”
She could feel his eyes burning into her, even though she couldn’t see them. “Of course.”
Together they moved in the darkness to Tracey. Harry slid between the sheets on Tracey’s left and Daphne returned to her place on Tracey’s right. Still sleeping the sobbing woman turned to bury herself into her husband’s chest. Daphne spooned into Tracey’s back.
Tracey’s sobs lasted only a few more moments before she settled into a deeper calm sleep. Daphne heard Harry’s breathing settle into a deep rhythmic pattern that suggested that he was asleep as well. His arm flowed over Tracey’s body to embrace Daphne as well. It had been a long time since Daphne had been in a bed with a man and a woman at the same time… Not since the last night at Hogwarts when she and Tracey had ambushed Neville Longbottom in the room of requirements.
It was as she was drifting off to sleep herself she noticed just how good Harry Potter smelled… Perhaps in the morning, Daphne would find out if Tracey still… shared.
---===oooOOOooo===---