Note: Modern/Muggle!AU and warnings for light mentions of violence


"What you witnessed is traumatic. We understand."

The police didn't understand what traumatic was for Daphne. The Death Eaters Gang was one of the most ruthless gangs in California, killing and taking over areas based on the race living there. Their leader called himself Lord Voldemort, and he took no prisoners. The only problem was that no one could ever catch Voldemort himself in the act. Even his 'Most Wanted' photos were drawn by mere speculation of the beggars in the streets.

That was something Daphne, unfortunately, learned while leaving one of the temp agencies. For whatever reason, he was in the deepest part of the parking garage—she liked to keep her car away from the crazies in the agency; talk about irony—with one of his followers. Daphne knew that it had to be them from the 'Most Wanted' photos.

He had sickly pale skin; it looked like bad leather. His eyes were red; she hoped they were contacts. That was all that could be seen because the rest was covered in black robes. His followers all wore silver masks and black robes too. If it weren't for them calling themselves a gang, Daphne would have pegged them for the cult variety.

The minute Daphne saw the robes, she ducked behind the closest car and hoped she wasn't detected. Curiosity was a witch, so Daphne poked her head far enough to see what was going on.

The follower was begging as far as she could tell. His hands were clasped together and moved to his knees. Voldemort wasn't having it; as soon as Daphne could blink, the follower fell to the ground with blood seeping under the dark robes.

She didn't know what happened to him, but she wasn't going to stay around to find out. All she knew for sure was that Voldemort was caught in the act.


"But in order to get this guy, we have to keep you out of sight and harm's way."

Daphne didn't like the sound of that. At first, she thought that she was going to be hidden away in some underground thing, and Daphne refused to live like a rat. Even if the circumstances would classify her like a rat, Daphne would never claim to be one, therefore, she would never live as one.


"You're going into witness protection. You will have a new life, a new identity."

So it wouldn't be in some underground fortress, but the sound of being in witness protection was less thrilling and more dangerous than she initially thought.

Everything that she'd grown to know would be a distant memory for however long. Daphne could no longer be Daphne.

Was it too late to find a rewind button somewhere?


"You won't be able to contact your friends."

Pansy was the reason that Daphne had gone to the police in the first place. After what she witnessed, she had to tell someone.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" Pansy questioned, attempting to fix Daphne's dishevelled appearance.

Daphne snorted and swatted Pansy's hand away. "Of course I'm not alright! I just saw that horrid man taking his own follower's life. I think that falls under the lines of not doing alright!"

"As your best friend, it is in the job description to ask that question," Pansy huffed. "And I also have to make sure you're safe. Did he see you?"

Daphne pressed her hand on her forehead, thinking back to the moment before she ran. "I don't think so."

"Good," Pansy said. "Now you have to go to the police."

"I most certainly will not!" Daphne protested. "What good will it do me if I go and tell the police what I saw. The second the word gets out, I'm a dead woman! I did not stay here just to die."

Pansy pursed her lips. "You'll be a dead woman if you don't. You don't think he saw you, but if there's even the tiniest chance that he did, you think he won't find you?" She shook her head, placing her hands on Daphne's shoulders.

"I love you, Daph, and I would rather see you shipped off somewhere safe than bury you within the week because you're too stubborn. Blaise's father is one of the head officers. While they don't get along as much because of Blaise's mother, he wouldn't hesitate to get you a meeting privately about this. No one would know you spoke to any cop."

Daphne looked into her friend's dark, pleading eyes. It took a lot to make Pansy plead this way; she didn't even plead for hours off while they temped at the local firms. A lump formed in her throat as the realization of how severe the situation had grown set in her mind.

Pansy must have taken Daphne's silence as acceptance because she kissed Daphne's cheek, tears forming in her eyes. "I'm going to go call Blaise. You make sure your mind is clear for a testimony, okay? This won't be forever, I promise."

"How did I deserve a friend like you?" Daphne managed to ask.

Pansy choked out a laugh. "Because your style is the only one to rival mine."

That was the last time she'd spoken to Pansy before Blaise's father and his coworker arrived at her apartment; those were her last words to her best friend.

She could have said something better.


"Do you have any family?"

Her parents moved to the islands somewhere near Cuba two years ago when the threat of the Death Eaters worsened. Her sister Astoria happily accepted the change a scenery, but Daphne didn't want to run away from her home like a coward.

When Daphne defended her position to her parents, they'd thrown in her face how Astoria was always more obedient and that one day Daphne would learn. And apparently, the best form of punishment was to leave her behind 'to think about what she really wanted'.

They thought that abandoning her would have the right effect. They expected her to call them and atone for the choice she made.

They shouldn't have thought that she would be like Astoria when it came to punishments. It was like they didn't know her resilience at all. Leaving their twenty-one-year-old to fend for herself? They were crazier than Voldemort himself.

Daphne hadn't spoken to them since that day. She still talked to Astoria occasionally, and she had moments where she missed being around her family. On the other hand, the distance between her and her parents did wonders for her health.

It was amazing how their words were coming back to bite her in the ass this way. She still had to leave California because of the Death Eaters.


"You will no longer be Daphne Greengrass."

Was it possible for Daphne not to be Daphne? She had to pretend to be Mallory Blake, a ballet dancer on the rise. Her true identity was now a secret she had to keep just to stay alive. Not just for her sake, but for the sake of the entire state of California. She was now the key to taking down one of the biggest gang organizations in California's history.

That is not how Daphne wanted to be known.


"Of course, your appearance has to be different."

She stared at herself in the mirror. Her typical dark bronze hair was now a silver blonde, layering past her shoulders. It wasn't her first choice, but she had to say, it wasn't as bad once she placed the coloured contacts in.

Her eyes were normally dark brown, though the contacts gave her eyes a more green hazel colour. The policemen suggested she get plastic surgery—for appearance's sake—but that's where Daphne drew the line. She would change her hair and eye colour, but she'd be damned before she changed her other physical attributes. Pansy would be proud.

Her taste for formal dresses and skirts on the daily had to be replaced with casual attire. That wasn't as bad as Daphne imagined; skinny jeans are actually more comfortable than she thought. And she was keeping her heels.

Nothing would keep Daphne Greengrass—or Mallory Blake—from heels, not even the Death Eaters.


"I'm sorry, Daphne, but this is your new life until the trial."

Once everything was said and done, Daphne had slowly grown to accept her fate. She knew that it was for her protection and the good of California. It helped to think that it was more of a paid vacation rather than being sent off in order to stay alive and put Voldemort away.

When it was finally time to relocate—after obtaining all the information and instructions she would need—things didn't suck as much.


"Welcome to New York, Ms. Blake."

Daphne sighed, rocking her leg over the other as she sat in one of the cafes. New York wasn't as different as California was when it came to the population, but she knew her life was certainly not going to be the same.

She looked out the window, watching as people walked back and forth. Daphne Greengrass' life was put on pause, and Mallory Blake's had begun.

"Here's your peppermint tea," came a voice.

Daphne swivelled in her chair around to face an older, curvy waitress with a pretty face and read the nametag on her shirt.

"Thank you, Rosmerta," Daphne said.

Rosmerta smiled at Daphne and nodded. "Anytime, dear. If you need anything else, you just let me know."

"I will," Daphne replied as Rosmerta walked away.

She was going to return to gazing out the window and pondering on when she'd leave for her new apartment when she heard a squeal.

Daphne whipped her head to see Rosmerta smiling and hugging on a guy. He was taller than Rosmerta, dark hair falling to the nape of his neck. When he pulled away from Rosmerta, Daphne caught a good look at his easy smile and bright green eyes.

"Harry, dear, you've been away from me for far too long," Rosmerta said, slapping his arm.

Harry glanced at the ground, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I had to help 'mione with the inventory at the library and Mr. Weasley on another invention," he explained.

Rosmerta gave him a look as she placed her hands on her hips. "Check in next time," she told him before circling to other tables.

Daphne didn't have a chance to turn away because her eyes locked in with Harry's. He was the first to look away, smiling softly and looking at everything but Daphne. They already made eye contact, so no could be done, right?

Drumming her fingers on the sides of her cup, Daphne waited until Harry shifted his gaze again to send him a wave. It worked–with some blushing from his part–like she thought it would. The only regret she had was that she couldn't give Harry her real name.

Until she could–if whatever was forming right then lasted–Mallory Blake would try having some fun.


A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges and Assignments) and The Houses Competition

(THC) House: Gryffindor; Year/Position: Year 4; Category: Short; Prompt: [action] changing your appearance

(HSWW) Assignment #5 Careers Advice Task 1: write about keeping an important secret

Word Count: 1,824