The Anger .

"I know the prophecy is everything to you, Headmaster," said Snape carefully. "But, I do not recall there being a part for you to play within it."

"The prophecy was told to me," replied Dumbledore. "It was told to me so that I may guide young Harry."

"Perhaps it was told to you so you can train the boy, Headmaster," said Snape. "You've done nothing towards that these past eleven years."

"Harry needs to enjoy his childhood," said Dumbledore with another throwaway gesture. "There will be plenty of time for him to receive training."

"Better to be trained early and before needed, than too late and not be ready," replied Snape.

"Do not question me on this, Severus," frowned Dumbledore. "I will know when it is time." Moving to rise, Snape said, "Then, if there is nothing else, Headmaster; I have potions under a Time Suspension Charm to which I need to return before the Charm ends."

"Very well," sighed Dumbledore. "You may go."

With cloak billowing, Snape left the office to return to his potions.

Sunday, glorious Sunday. If he hadn't planned on meeting Daphne and heading to breakfast together Harry would have gladly had the day as a lie-in. But, future wives wait for no man - or boy.

After his morning ablutions Harry ducked straight down to the Great Hall. Surprisingly, he met Daphne just as she was coming up from the dungeons with Tracey. "Good morning, dear heart," he said. Then, with only a slight hesitation, said, "And you, too, Daphne."

Both looked gobsmacked at him standing there grinning at the pair of them for a few moments before Tracey burst into laughter. Daphne, as usual, hit him on the arm. "Prat!" she said, blushing.

"Good one, Potter," said Tracey still chuckling. "You had me going there."

"You know, Daphne," said Harry wincing slightly as he massaged his arm. "If you keep hitting me like that you're going to leave a permanent mark."

"Garbage!" she stated. "I'm not hitting you anywhere near hard enough for that yet."

Harry looked over to see she was smirking just slightly with her nose, just right, in the air. "Yet?" he asked. "Yet!" she replied defiantly.

Harry gave a dramatic sigh and said, "Not yet married; and already beaten into submission."

As they were approaching the Ravenclaw table, their chosen destination for the morning, Tracey said, "Face it, Potter. You may be destined to be the Lord of the land, but Daphne will be the Lady of the manor."

Helping them to their seats, Harry asked, "Manor? Does that mean I have to buy one of those?"

Daphne looked at him a little shocked before she said, "Harry, you're a Potter. You already have one in Wales somewhere. I daresay you also have other properties scattered around the world."

"Oh," said Harry a little surprised while sitting down. "I guess I should take a closer look at that large folio the goblins gave me to read, then."

"You don't know?" asked Tracey.

Harry shrugged as he reached to load his plate, "I know I've got a fair bit of money; and that there's a whole pile of stocks; but I've not taken the time to go through it all."

Daphne set her knife and fork down and glared at him. "Harry James Potter. You are the Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House. It is your responsibility to keep on top of your finances. Honestly, Harry."

"Well," said Harry. "Do you know your way around those documents, then? Can you help me?"

"I'm the Heir Presumptive of a Noble and Most Ancient House," replied Daphne with a scowl. "And, as we're going to be married, and to which Tracey alluded, I'm destined to be Lady Potter. It's my responsibility to both Houses to learn as much as I can about the finances so I may aid you.

"Father has taught me quite a lot over the past few years so I will be ready when the time comes. So, yes; I will help you go through the documents."

"Thank you," said Harry quite gratefully. "I've read through a lot of it but I've not been taught business. It's not something they taught to Primary school children in Surrey. You'd be doing me a favour to help me there."

"No," replied Daphne. "As the Potter fortune will fall to us both once we are married, it is only right I ensure you don't do something stupid and lose it all before we even give our vows in the Bonding Ceremony. I need to protect my assets." "But, still, you don't have to," said Harry, buttering a piece of toast. "I'm grateful."

After breakfast, Harry dashed up to the Ravenclaw tower and collected the folio he received from the goblins. He loaded it, and a sheaf of parchment, some ink and a couple of quills, into his bookbag before returning to the Great Hall.

The others were all waiting for him.

"Oh, Hi," he said. "You're all helping?"

"We volunteered," said Neville. "Like Daphne, we all, except for Hermione, have received instruction in managing the House finances."

"And my Dad's taught me about the London Stock Exchange and the 'Footsie'," said Hermione.

"The what?" asked Harry, before anyone could jump in. He had his bookbag on the table, had drawn out the large folio, and handed it to Daphne.

"The 'Footsie' - the F.T.S.E. - Financial Times Stock Exchange," explained Hermione. "The 'Footsie' is a selection of indexes that measure how the London Stock Exchange is performing overall. As such, it is a quick guide to whether the stock exchange is losing or gaining money."

"Oh-kay!" said Harry. "I thought it was a new dance move, or something."

"Honestly, Harry," huffed Hermione. "Why on earth would I be talking about a new dance move when I was talking about the London Stock Exchange?"

"I have no idea," laughed Harry. "That's why I was confused."

Daphne had remained quiet and was going through the folio slowly separating what was contained within into smaller piles.

"Alright," she said. "From what I can see, so far, your father was really busy managing investments in the year leading up to October 1981..." She suddenly stopped talking and looked at Harry. "Sorry," she said.

"No, it's alright," said Harry soothingly. "I've come to grips with their deaths now."

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