A/N- This is going to be a collection of drabble/one-shots which are probably going to be linked, but by no means will they be in chronological order. I hope you all enjoy!

Daphne crept along the corridor, the ghosts of her past in her wake just as they always were. She heard the faint sounds of her fiance being pleasured, and upon looking to her heart hoping to feel it break, clench, twitch... All hope was crushed as soon as it was born because all that she felt in place of her heart was stone.

As she neared the room - her room, their room, the lustful sounds stopped for empty seconds and her already uneven breathing hitched in fear of him discovering her... She didn't want that, not now - she wanted solitude, just to be alone.

The pain she was feeling... It was harrowing, simply harrowing. It throbbed from her skin all the way through to her soul leaving no room for thinking, for feeling, for breathing.

It just... She just... She couldn't make sense of it all. Why she was engaged to this man, and not to the man she had loved but left behind and promised herself to never speak of again.

Really though, she knew - the answers were there in the back of her head and she refused to acknowledge them. But right now, while the voices were screaming hurtful, vile things at her, urging her to break things and to go into meltdown... She was too close, too close to letting the voices win the fight and too close to breaking things, cutting, doing anything to cause more pain on the outside than the monster on the inside did.

So she was finally going to do what her ridiculously overpaid therapist told her to do: focus everything on something when things are threatening to fall apart quicker than she can hold them together.

And today, her focus was on where things went wrong.

Worthless. Worthless! Look in that mirror, you're worthless. You're absolutely nothing. You know what you want to do to that mirror, don't you ugly?

But she ignored the urge to smash it - to even look into it, and she continued to shuffle down the curling staircase, away from the sounds of betrayal.

Come on darling, you can't go a day without hurting yourself more than this does. You think you're strong? You think not drawing blood from yourself for the day is strong? What about food? Are you going to go downstairs and make yourself dinner? Open the fridge as if it's the most normal thing in the world? No. No, you're not. Focusing on the one thing that hurts you the most doesn't kill me sweetie, and it doesn't make you better either.

She clenched her jaw and decided that she didn't need to conquer everything in one day. She just wanted to pick her life apart from the seams - from start to finish, and then piece it all back together better than it fell together over the years.

Her eyes lingered at the kitchen door, scanning over the kitchen table and the food that had been left out by the housekeeper even though she was well aware it will be left untouched.

She swallowed hard, and continued walking towards the only room in the house that she felt comfortable in - the only room in the entire house that he never went in.

That's right, walk on past... No one wants you to eat. No one will find you any more pretty if you eat. Walk on past.

As an all-to-familiar shiver ran along her spine, she pushed the heavy door open and slumped on the sole chair in the room. She closed her tired eyes, their soreness no longer bothering her.

The days were too long now, each second going by agonizingly slow with no hopes of distraction. Sometimes, Graham would show an interest. He paid for a therapist to come by once a week, tried to get Pansy to call her everyday. Probably, somewhere deep in all of that ice, he had some sort of feelings for her. After all, why would he go to these lengths for her if he didn't? Why would he still want her even though she was broken?

This led her to think to the root of all of this: her Father. If her Mother were still alive, none of this would have happened. Daphne firmly stuck to this belief because nothing went right once she had died. Her Mother made her Father a warm, happy person - her death broke him more than he cared to show and all Daphne had ever wanted to do was please him - he fed her irrational fear of failure, of disappointing people. And when he had asked her to do the one thing she didn't want from being a pureblood, she did it.

Blaise slumped against the bar desk, finally fed up of drowning his sorrows in alcohol. It was what had broken them apart, it was what had pulled him apart, it was the root of many of his problems.

Daphne wouldn't be there in the morning to pull open the curtains and force a laugh at Blaises' reaction to the blinding sunlight paired with a hangover. Daphne wouldn't be there to help him and he wouldn't be there to help her because finally, he'd chased her away... He had pushed the one person he loved the most away.

And as the intoxicated realisation hit for the first time in a while, he released a strangled sob for the love he had lost. He'd hurt her, he'd truly hurt her and he hadn't bothered to try and win her back, instead letting her become engaged.

But did that mean he had done the most loving thing he could? That was what some would say, but he didn't believe it. He'd spoken with Pansy, and the way she had described it made it seem like Daphne was fading away. He'd heard the rumours - the 'unhinged' rumours, just like back in Hogwarts, and he knew just how true they could be.

And it hurt - he hurt. It all hurt.

What was a drunken man to do at eight o' clock at night?

And then there was Astoria, her thoughts continued. Astoria who happily settled into her arranged marriage with Draco, Astoria who was just the perfect daughter, the perfect pureblood, the perfect wife, the perfect woman. Astoria who had despised Daphne for her entire life even when Daphne's world was being pulled from under her feet.

Is this really helping? This is the most painful thing you could do... You know what you really want to do. You can hide them under the pillows but you know that they're still there.

And she was drawn out of her thoughts again - the voices were less aggressive but they were getting to her again. They were right because this was the most painful thing she had ever done... Everything was better when Blaise was right at the back of her mind. Everything was better when there was only pain on the outside, more painful than the inside.

Could she leave Graham? Did she have the strength in her to do that? Was there possibly just enough fight, just enough love left in her heart to push her through it?

She hoped so, but she doubted it. The pile of red velvet pillows in the corner glared at her, asking her to throw them out the way to find the gleaming, sharp treasure that lay underneath them.

Oh come on! You're not strong enough for this... You're weak. All you are is weak. Weak, pathetic, disgusting. Go and weigh yourself, look in a mirror - you'll see.

Maybe she was focusing on the wrong thing. Maybe the therapist meant she should draw, or read, or go out... Not contemplating going to find the love of her life.

Then she heard the hoarse shout that made the emptiness in her stomach churn and chills run through her body. Clearly his toy was gone, and he now wanted the real fun to begin.

Well today, she wouldn't do it. She wouldn't give in. As terrified as she was, today she would win. She would win against the voices and she would win against him.

You'll never win.

Taking her wand in her trembling hand, she willed herself to make it work. In a whisper she locked the door, before curling up on her chair and closing her eyes to the world.

Back at his apartment, he stumbled around and tried to find his sober-up potions. Finding the neon liquid, he downed two vials to make the effects kick in quicker.

He was finding her. He didn't care that Montague was a complete psycho when he wanted to be, he was finding her. It didn't matter if she didn't want him or if she had moved on - it mattered that Blaise would have at least tried.

No matter what, he couldn't have this constant weight on his shoulders. The constant 'what ifs' and waking up every morning expecting to see her face. He couldn't do it anymore - he just couldn't.

He had to pull himself together and push the past behind him. Voldemort was dead - he wasn't a Death Eater anymore, never was at heart... He'd done it to save Daphne, to keep her alive. He had killed for her, been forced to relive the worst moments of existence in his nightmares every night and the only saving grace had been waking up to her. Well, that and the alcohol - it was the only thing that made the memories stop rewinding and playing over again and again and again causing every moment to be agonizing. It all had to go - had to be put behind him, for good.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the floo and grabbed a handful of green powder. His whole body shook with nerves and excitement - he didn't have a plan, he didn't have time for that.

It was now or never.

Daphne jolted awake at the sound of furious banging at the door, as well as the dark skinned man stumbling in through the floo of the room. The room was enchanted so when it was locked no one could come in, but that didn't block the floo.

And she blinked again and again, hating her mind for conjuring such an image. She was dreaming - she often had this dream. But now, there was only one thing to do to stop all this for at least the night that would follow. She was giving in, loosing to herself as she always did. Drowsily she shuffled over to the pile of pillows, pulling the blades out from bottom of the pile. Blocking everything out, she shuffled through her various treasures, trying to choose the one that would cause the prettiest but most painful scar.

"Daphne... What are you doing?" Blaise leapt over to her, pushing the blades out of her reach.

The blonde haired woman sat wide eyed, staring towards the man her every thought revolved around.

Blaise looked confusedly towards the door that was being hammered on, and back at the frail witch that was staring unblinking at him.

"Daphne... I - say something..." His voice shook horrendously.

"It's you... You're here... It's actually you..." She took a shaky breath. "You came. You finally came."

"You were expecting me?" He frowned.

"No," She said simply.

Blaise didn't follow - he was almost as speechless as she was. His Daphne... She was not sitting in front of him. This was an emaciated, pale, broken Daphne, and he'd left her to become this.

Suddenly, she leapt into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist like she always used to. She put her head into the crook of his neck, and sobbed into his shirt. There was nothing either of them could say right now, but the silence spoke louder than words. He kissed her head softly.

"This is ridiculous, isn't it?... But then again, we always were." He broke the silence, finally.

"I should have never left you... I should have never listened to my Dad, or tried to be like Astoria, or set foot in this house."

"It's okay... I should have come to find you and I didn't. But I've found you now and I want you to come with me - whatever our problems are, we can face them together... Mend each other." He wrapped his arms tighter around the frail and shaking girl.

"But my things...?"

"You don't need them - I can buy you whatever you need and whatever you want. All we need is each other, Daph."

"That's all we've ever needed."

Nothing was perfect, nothing was okay, but the only way it ever could be was each other - they both knew that.

A/N- Well, I haven't written anything I'm really happy with and proud of in a while, but I am actually so happy with this! I really hope you all like it, please review.

This is written for my challenge (joining in for fun) Favourite Couple Scenario Challenge/Competition Speed Writing. I give a scenario every five days and the first was 'person A is engaged and person B tries to win them over'