OoOoO
Where was it?
Daphne had written down the results of so many improvisational potions that she had trouble keeping them all organised. She rifled through drawer after drawer, reminding herself that her flat was long overdue a spring clean. In amongst the chaos of her makeup drawer, Daphne spotted a rectangular sheaf of parchment that could, potentially, be what she was looking for. After pulling it out from underneath a small pile of cosmetics, Daphne turned it over and was surprised to see that she wasn't holding notes for one of her experiments.
It was an invitation to Draco and Pansy's wedding.
When the owl had arrived carrying it, Daphne had shoved the parchment out of sight so that Astoria wouldn't see it. After a month in her makeup drawer, it was more than slightly dog-eared, with a smudge of eye shadow across the front.
She had mixed feelings. They had been her housemates for seven years, and during that time Daphne had assumed, as everyone else had done, that it was inevitable that Draco would end up marrying Pansy. She had even counted Pansy as a close friend before she had been forced to take sides on the Malfoy issue. But she was also a Greengrass, and the idea of attending the wedding of a man who had discarded her little sister felt disloyal.
If Daphne was to go, she would need to hurry – the ceremony started in under an hour.
And Lucius Malfoy would be there.
The thought took Daphne by surprise; she hadn't seen him since their lunch together, nor had she returned to the restaurant. She refused to consider why it was that the thought of meeting him seemed so appealing. Daphne dropped the invitation onto her vanity and continued preparing for her shopping trip. Every so often, she would catch herself looking at the invitation, lying innocently between her hair brush and the assortment of lotions that her mother insisted she applied to prevent her hands from becoming rough because of her potions work.
As was her custom, Astoria burst into Daphne's bedroom without knocking. Some habits, it seemed, lasted a lifetime. Recently she had been getting washed and dressed without fail, but today she was wearing her dressing gown and appeared to be struggling not to cry. Daphne could see the words 'It should have been me' behind her sister's every movement; the way she toyed with the fraying edge of her sleeve, the way her lips were pressed together.
"You look nice today. Are you going somewhere?" Astoria crossed the room, showing interest in her sister now that she was focussing on her appearance; Daphne was wearing her olive green dress robes, a gift from their mother that she hadn't yet worn.
"Out for lunch." The lie slipped out with ease.
She didn't ask before rifling through trinket boxes, sliding a silver barrette into Daphne's hair. Daphne herself was resigned to her sister's attention and did nothing to protest. Astoria still hadn't forgiven her for getting her hair cut into a pageboy bob, but it was practical, easy to manage, and rather cute, at least in Daphne's opinion.
"Good. You need to get out and about, and I want to be by myself today." There was no use pointing out to her that she could always leave. Astoria's voice had wavered on the final word, but she recovered herself marvellously as she went to the makeup drawer, still hanging open. She went straight for a shade that Daphne had always considered too bright a shade of pink and set about colouring Daphne's mouth with practiced ease.
"Alright, no more; I need to get going." The more Astoria searched through her things, the more likely it was that she would find the invitation. She waited to see if her sister would argue the point or not.
"Okay." She kissed Daphne's cheek. "Have a nice time. I know I'm a pain, but I really do appreciate you letting me stay."
Her unexpected gratitude doubled Daphne's guilt. It wasn't often that Astoria said something so thoughtful, but when she did it was always touching.
With Astoria safely back in the spare bedroom, Daphne stuffed the invitation into her clutch bag along with her wand and the tube of lipstick. She doubted that tissues would be necessary. She hurried out of the door and down the stairs, almost overbalancing due to the size of her heels. Daphne apparated to the registrar's office, slightly flustered as she joined the small line of people still waiting to be directed towards their chairs. Peering into the room, she saw that the majority of guests were already seated; not a good sign.
When her turn came to be ushered, the crowd was communicating in hushed whispers, a clear signal that the wedding would shortly commence. She clambered over legs and bags and into a seat between some maternal relative of Draco's and Tracey Davies.
"I didn't think you'd make it, Greengrass." Tracey gave her a dubious glance, as though she suspected Daphne was going to cause trouble.
"Like any of us would miss this." In the crowd, she could spot their entire year group, with one notable exception: Blaise Zabini. Astoria wasn't present either, even though most of the Slytherins she had known during her school years were. It was as though Draco and Pansy had never split up. The nights with Blaise had never happened, and the fairytale ending with Astoria was nothing more than a dream. Daphne was almost asking herself if it had ever been.
It was strange to imagine that Draco, tall and pale in his dark dress robes, could just have easily been waiting on her sister by the dais at the front. The music began and Pansy made her way from the back of the church. Daphne stood, along with everyone else.
There was nothing to fault. It would have been immensely satisfying if there was a too-low neckline or a distasteful dress for Daphne to direct her rage towards. But there wasn't. Pansy looked magnificent, beautiful. As always, she commanded the attention of the entire room with a level of charisma that Daphne knew that neither she nor her younger sister would ever possess. When she smiled at Draco, he smiled back. Daphne gasped. She had never seen him look at Astoria with such absolute joy, or anything that came close.
She watched the ceremony intently, wondering if Astoria could have managed to look at once so demure and appealing. It was very tastefully done, yet there was nothing that Astoria Greengrass couldn't have made as much of a show of as Pansy Parkinson. Pansy Malfoy.
The newly wed Mr and Mrs Malfoy – not Lucius and Narcissa, for they had been replaced as the perfect pureblood symbol of all that was to be aspired towards – led the way from the room, clearly proud of themselves and of each other. Immediately behind them was Narcissa, aglow with the success of her son. The victor or victim of the separation? Her own beauty matched that of the bride. It was unquestionable. She did not look like what one could rightly term 'Mrs Malfoy the senior'. For Pansy's sake, Daphne hoped that she would age half as well as Draco's mother had done. It seemed churlish to wish her friend ill as she basked in her new marriage.
As people began to stream out of the registry office, Daphne caught sight of Lucius Malfoy. For a moment their eyes connected, and Daphne felt a swooping in the pit of her stomach. She felt as though everything else had drifted away from her. Without meaning to, she tucked a wisp of her hair behind her ear. Lucius dipped her a brief nod without breaking eye contact.
And then the moment was over.
He disappeared into the swell of the crowd, and the connection was broken.
After a quick look around her to check that nobody had noticed what at passed between her and Lucius – they hadn't, as far as she could tell – Daphne joined the tail end of the throng pushing out of the door. As she progressed up the aisle, she told herself that it was her school friends that she was trying to pick out from the crowd. It seemed that Lucius had already taken a portkey to the reception. An usher handed Daphne a white rose with a little satin sash that read 'Draco & Pansy' in a looping script. Before she could hand it back, he had moved on, and her world was spinning. Belatedly, Daphne realised that it was the portkey.
She staggered when she landed, her heels clattering against the marble floor as she collided with the wizard in front. Mortified and nauseous, Daphne moved backwards.
"I'm sorry, so sorry."
"It's fine." The man and his companion looked at Daphne as though her carelessness was anything but 'fine' in their view. She gave an apologetic smile, which died on her lips as a large hand closed around the top of her arm. Daphne turned, and was alarmed to see a man in the uniform of the ushers.
"Miss Daphne Greengrass? It is the request of our hosts that you follow me." He began walking, and she had no choice but to go with him.
Was this Lucius' idea of revenge? Had he decided to act upon some unknown feelings of resentment for her? Or had Pansy seen her and decided that she wanted all reminders of the life that Draco had come perilously close to sharing with another gone?
Instead of the front door of what she suspected to be a large manor house or hotel, Daphne was led past the queue of guests and into a spacious function room, two thirds of which had been filled with circular tables. In the middle was a large wooden dance floor. The usher pulled her across the floor, indifferent to the way people were staring. She couldn't help but take the opportunity to cast another glance at Narcissa, in amongst the crush at the head table, as though some vital clue would be given away by the way in which she smiled at those well enough acquainted to be crowding around her group.
Daphne nearly tripped over the hem of her gown when she saw that Lucius was watching her from the bridal table, isolated from the conversations on either side of him. Close to the heart of the reception, yet aloof and untouchable. She was guided towards the remaining seat at a table surrounded by her old classmates, and when the usher left her side Daphne sat uncertainly, trying not to let the others see that she could feel Lucius' eyes on her.
"Where were you, Greengrass?" Millicent's tone was brusque, yet there was underlying concern. Although Millicent was thought of as intimidating by those who did not know her, Daphne was long since used to her mothering, although she would never undervalue it.
"I, ah, I got held up when they were giving out portkeys." It sounded altogether more believable than the truth.
Theodore tutted loudly, drawing their attention.
"That's ridiculous! Draco had escorts arranged for each of us, but even then... My mother and father always said it was impossible to find the staff. I used to laugh at them for being so pretentious, until I realised it was true." He smiled to himself as the group began laughing, and it was almost as though they were back on their bench in the Great Hall. She had heard through word of mouth that Harry Potter's side laid their dead on the tables, where hours before there had been pumpkin juice and porridge. Once the battle had started, Daphne's only thoughts were of finding Astoria, keeping her alive.
They shared the meal, and conversation flowed as easily as it always had in their group. With none of the Gyrffindor bravado, haughty attitude of Ravenclaw, or clinginess of Hufflepuff, they had been content to play their own roles in an effective family. It may not have been as touchy-feely as the old Headmaster had always wished it, but it offered something stable and secure that Dumbledore, with his glory, had never needed.
Daphne enjoyed the meal so much so that she almost forgot about the presence behind her. Almost, but not quite. She turned around once, but he was deep in conversation with a wizard she didn't recognise.
When it came for the toast to the bride and groom, Lucius stood, once again the influential man he had once been, if only for a few fleeting minutes. He spoke well, stirring the crowd into thunderous applause and moving Pansy to tears. Even Draco, detached at the best of times, appeared moved. Not once did he seek out Daphne with his eyes. As Lucius sat, Daphne wondered how much he missed the power he had once wielded. It came to him as naturally as brewing potions came to her – that much was obvious from what little she knew of Lucius.
The applause continued as Draco led Pansy onto the dance floor. She beamed at Daphne's table before spinning to face her new husband. There was something awful about seeing Draco's hand cupped around her bare shoulder. He had never shown Astoria such tenderness and probably never would. Soon they were joined on the floor by their parents. As Lucius took Narcissa's hand in his, Daphne couldn't tell if he wanted to caress or crush it. They moved together harmoniously, as though they had danced together hundreds of times before. Of course they had; they were married.
As the song changed, other couples took to the floor. Theodore offered his hand, and conscious of the tiny flicker that betrayed Tracey's anger, she accepted his hand. It was easy to fall into step with Theodore. As they swayed together, Daphne recalled the way in which his angular features had first drawn her. She didn't resist as he pulled her back for a second dance. Or a third. It had been easy. Fun. If the wistful smile he gave her was anything to go by, Daphne knew that he felt the ghost of their relationship too. And it still didn't touch her heart.
When the song came to an end, Daphne stepped back from him.
"You know we shouldn't; not again." She walked away from the dance floor, lifting her bag as she passed the table.
"Don't be like that, Daphne!" His voice was jocular, yet there was an underlying plea. She ignored it. Daphne was already confused about what she wanted, and the last thing she needed was a complication.
The door Daphne had walked out was clearly not the means by which she had entered the room – that much became clear to her as she stepped out into a long corridor. The door closed behind her, only the distorted hum of the music keeping silence at bay. The floor was sumptuously carpeted, and with every step Daphne's heels sank into the plush material. Carefully, she avoided the eyes of the portraits observing her, although most feigned sleep.
By the time she finally reached a door, Daphne was so relieved that she opened it without thinking. It looked like a parlour. Voices could be heard, speaking in hushed tones. Curiosity got the better of her, and Daphne stepped into the room. She was concealed by a corner.
"-absolutely ghastly, a total mess. What possessed you to let him, my son-" A woman spoke angrily.
"Let him? He's a grown man now, and I couldn't very well have stopped him-" A male voice joined the first, a male voice that Daphne recognised very well indeed.
Surely not.
"You couldn't get an audience with the Minister if you wanted to, but Draco is your son. He would have listened to you before marrying that, that jumped up Parkinson girl! It's all so-" Narcissa Malfoy paced furiously past the wall that had separated her from Daphne, gesticulating angrily. She was so close that Daphne could smell the fragrant scent of her perfume, see the fibres of her robe shimmer in the firelight.
Daphne gasped. Belatedly, she covered her mouth with her hand.
Narcissa swivelled to face her, shock evident as she froze.
"Distasteful, I know." Footsteps could be heard, and a moment later Lucius appeared behind Narcissa. They made a striking couple. Daphne wondered at her trivial thoughts when she had, in effect, been caught spying. "Daphne Greengrass..."
"I'll leave you to it." Narcissa looked Daphne from head to toe before sweeping from the room. It wasn't the stern rebuke or cruelty that she had expected. The door shut firmly behind her, and when Daphne looked back she saw that Lucius was watching her with an intensity she had never experienced from anyone.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here." She wondered if he was going to reprimand her, or drag her from the house before the guests, as much friends of his family as hers. Daphne's face flushed.
"I believe that both Draco and Pansy invited you to attend," He spoke slowly as though addressing a small, unruly child. "Although, you ought not to have heard that conversation at all."
"Sorry. I really should get- go home now. I..." Daphne stammered uncertainly, not understanding what it was that he wanted with her. She was filled with panic.
"This is my house and mine alone." Lucius regarded her seriously. "You are not going to be ejected from this property unless I so wish it. Now, sit."
She wondered for the briefest of moments if he intended to have her sit on the floor like a dog, until he led her farther into the room. It was luxuriously furnished, antique yet comfortable. Daphne perched on the edge of the sofa before the fireplace. She concentrated on trying to sound like she had a brain between her ears.
"I wasn't looking for anything in particular. I just had to get away for a minute."
"Hmm." Lucius poured a measure of Scotch into a crystal tumbler, which he then handed to her before retrieving his own from a small table.
"Thank you." Daphne followed his lead and took a sip of the whisky, trying not to wince as she swallowed it. Lucius' mouth twitched. Apparently she hadn't been successful at keeping the grimace from her face.
"An acquired taste. Is there anything you would prefer?"
"No, I think I've had enough to drink, thanks." Daphne set the glass down on a table by the corner of the sofa.
"Very well then." Lucius sat beside her, staring into the flames. His hands were clasped on his knees, and he hunched over them. He had worn his hair back in a bow, yet one platinum strand had come loose at the side. Daphne wished once more that she could touch his hair.
"I'm sorry that you and... Narcissa aren't pleased with Draco's marriage." He jerked slightly as she named his wife. The name had felt awkward in Daphne's mouth.
"Yes, well, he's simply going to have to learn for himself." He gave a wry smile. "You saw the way they were during your time at Hogwarts. Did you ever think that she'd stray with the Zabini boy?"
"No." Daphne answered truthfully; they had been devoted to each other.
"No, it's almost impossible to suspect..." Lucius fell silent, and for the first time it occurred to Daphne that he was only human. A man. He looked slightly haggard without his splendid dress robes to divert attention. Before she could stop herself, Daphne reached out and brushed the back of his hand with her fingertips.
His breathing hitched.
"I knew that you felt it too." Lucius took her hand between his own. It. There was no denying the charge between them now that he had acknowledged its existence. She wanted him.
Wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, Lucius leant in slowly and gave her a chaste, lingering kiss. After he pulled away, Daphne brushed her lips. It was unbelievable to think that she had kissed Lucius Malfoy.
"That was... different." Lucius frowned darkly. "Different in a good way, I think."
"How so?" His demeanour was guarded.
"Well, it isn't every day that I kiss a man that was nearly my sister's father-in-law, or a married man." Daphne became more serious when she saw that her joking wasn't going to make understanding Lucius any easier. "But I liked it and if you wanted to do it again, then-"
She was cut off as Lucius kissed her again, this time more heatedly. It seemed that he required little encouragement. Daphne sighed softly as he licked and bit a blazing trail across her neck. With trembling fingers she untied the black ribbon and released his hair. It was thick and smooth between her fingers. Lucius smirked as she continued to toy with his tresses.
"If you don't wish for this to continue, then I suggest that you make your way back to your friends now." Lightly, he brushed a hand down the middle of Daphne's back.
Perhaps she had consumed more wine than she had realised, because her head swam slightly as she shook it.
Drunk or not, Daphne would never forget what happened next.
OoOoO
Thanks for reading. Please review.