Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review the previous chapter – it was wonderfully kind of you.
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As soon as she had sent her owl to return the jewellery, Daphne had experienced a horrible sense of finality. Lucius had made her feel something more profound than she had imagined possible, and now that she had severed ties with him, it was as though all of the depth he had added to her life had vanished, leaving her with a dull reality. Their conversations, even their arguments, had been stimulating, and Lucius had the power to make everything seem much more significant than it had previously. More than that, he had given Daphne a sense that there was a place for her in the new world they had found themselves in, which was strange considering his uncanny ability to make her feel off balance. Then again, not everything about their relationship had made sense; least of all the way Lucius had gone from accepting her love, maybe even loving her in return, to wanting to hurt her. He had succeeded, too; Daphne had worked until the point of exhaustion.
Another Pepper-Up potion would have made her sick, and her mind was too sleep-deprived to function even if her body had been convinced to keep on going. She had been forced to admit defeat and leave the potions lab. As Temperance had pointed out rather impatiently, she was one yawn away from causing an accident.
Daphne fought the temptation to simply apparate to her block of flats, instead attempting to prolong her distraction by walking home. Thankfully, the streets were quiet due to the lateness of the hour and so she didn't have to fight her way through throngs of pedestrians. She was scarcely paying attention to her surroundings, and so she barely noticed as someone fell into step behind her, not even taking in the all too familiar tap of the cane against the cobblestones. It was only when a hand grasped her elbow that Daphne realised anything was amiss.
Shocked out of her sleepy stupor, she turned to face her companion, who had pushed aside her hair and was staring at her neck with unbridled horror. Upon recognising Lucius, Daphne wrenched her arm from his grasp and drew her wand, taking a slow step backwards.
"Daphne, wait. I implore you, stay there." Lucius made to step towards her before he thought better of it. "Please."
"Don't come any closer to me!" Daphne didn't know how she was going to convince him to leave her alone, or even what her next move would be. Her wand hand was trembling dangerously.
"I won't without your express permission – you have my word." His grey eyes were once more inscrutable, however she detected none of the madness which had clouded his gaze the last time she and Lucius had met and so the edge was taken from her initial panic.
Taking stock of the situation, Daphne noted that the street was deserted save for them. She didn't allow the worry caused by this realisation to show. Instead she continued watching Lucius, waiting to see what it was that he planned to do. Ordinarily fastidious with his appearance, it looked as though Lucius had slept in the shirt and trousers that he was wearing, and he hadn't bothered to don even a plain travelling cloak. The moon's pale light showed that had also forgone grooming, his hair not brushed and his jaw unshaven.
"Why were you following me? I told you to leave me alone – I don't want anything to do with you anymore." She hated how plaintive her voice sounded as it sliced through the silence of the night.
Lucius was watching her closely. He barely flinched at the harshness of her words.
"Forgive me – I had to see you again. Your anger is understandable -" Lucius spoke quietly and emphatically, his voice taking on a serious edge.
"I'm not yours to see." Tired and confused, Daphne shook her head. She was at a loss. "If you cared that much, and if I was all that important to you, then you would never have... You couldn't have..."
"I'm sorry, Daphne." His face wore a pained expression, and for a fleeting moment she was tempted to lower her wand. However, Daphne did no such thing. She couldn't afford to have her resolve waver. "Please believe me when I say that you're the last person I wanted to hurt -"
"But you did hurt me, and I'm going home. I can't see you any more, okay? And don't send me any more jewellery." Certain that he wasn't going to attack her – the suspicion seemed ludicrous in light of his apology, which had shaken her to the core – Daphne turned and walked away, her posture radiating tension. Lucius made no attempt to follow her.
As soon as Daphne had rounded the corner of her street, she disapparated, too tired to walk any farther. She went straight into her bedroom and changed into her pyjamas, trying desperately not to think about Lucius, never mind wish that the past forty-eight hours had never taken place and that she could simply fall asleep, tucked against his side. She walked into the bathroom, the tiled floor cold beneath her bare feet, and washed off her makeup. The bruises ringing her neck looked all the more severe against her pale skin.
She couldn't think about how long he had waited for her, or whether or not his apology had been genuine; it was all too difficult for her to process. Her life had never been simple since Lucius had become a part of it.
With sudden determination, she summoned the tub of cream that Temperance had given her earlier. Daphne unscrewed the lid and scooped up the balm, massaging it into her skin. It was only when her neck had been covered in the paste that Daphne rinsed her hands clean, enjoying the feel of the water running against her skin. Hot, fat tears were rolling down her cheeks. She stood there until the paste had dried before finally falling into bed, alone and exhausted.
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After a good night of sleep, Daphne had managed to put the encounter out of her thoughts, for the most part. She began her preparation for the upcoming conference and was working on the introduction for her speech when a knock sounded on the door. Apprentices training in the art of Potions were uncommon, and it was rarer still for a training Potions Mistress of Master to be granted a slot to speak at any high profile event – impressing those attending the conference was, therefore, of the utmost importance. So absorbed in her task was Daphne that she didn't notice the knocking until it grew more insistent.
With a sigh of frustration, she laid down her quill and got up to answer the door. Before she had made it, Astoria burst into the room, her delicate features a perfect mask of worry.
"Merlin's beard, Daphne! It's a good thing that you're here – I was considering going to fetch an auror or two." In her typically dramatic fashion, Astoria engulfed her older sister in an uncomfortably tight hug. "Oh, and thank goodness you got rid of those bruises; they were totally bizarre to look at."
"Yes, because my appearance is my most pressing concern at a time like this..." Daphne rolled her eyes, uncertain if her sister had picked up on the sarcasm laced through her words.
"So are you going to tell me what happened?" Astoria took Daphne's seat and casually flicked through the notes she had made for her speech. It was as though she was trying to downplay the seriousness of what had happened which, in her own way, was rather sweet.
"I've been invited to speak at the Potions conference in Oxford next month." Daphne hoped that the news was important enough to distract Astoria from the true meaning of her question. She felt a little guilty for doing so, but she wasn't prepared to disclose anything of what had taken place between her and Lucius – good or bad – until she truly understood it herself.
"Really? Wow, you might make it into the Daily Prophet." Astoria grinned. Carelessly, she dropped Daphne's notes onto the table – her interest in them had well and truly waned. "What are you going to wear for it? I mean, there might be photographers. I mean, even if it's just one of those stuffy old Potions journals your picture goes in, you still want to look your best, right?"
Dropping onto her sofa, Daphne closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. There were times when she wondered how she and her sister could be blood relations.
"To be honest, I don't think that my outfit matters a great deal. It's my lecture that I have to focus on, otherwise I'll become a laughingstock." Ignoring the scandalised look Astoria was sending her, Daphne sorted her notes into chronological order and set them back down onto the coffee table.
"Come with me to Madam Malkin's today – have you told mum and dad yet?" Astoria waited for a response and Daphne shook her head. "Good. That way I can use the extra money they gave me on your robes – it'll be like a gift from them, and they'll have no idea that you accepted any of their money."
"Astoria, I can't!" Scandalised, Daphne could only stare at her little sister. Due to her sunny disposition, it was often easy to forget why she had been sorted into Slytherin house.
"Why not? I'm serious, Daphne; you can't just sit around in your pyjamas like some sort of victim, and all you ever seem to do is work. I was talking to Tracey yesterday and she said that the last time you two went out for a drink was over two weeks ago. I'm glad that you don't ever see she-who-must-not-be-named, but I don't want you to stop seeing your friends!" Astoria folded her arms. In that moment, she was the spitting image of their mother, however Daphne was clever enough to know that such a comparison would do her no favours. "Go and get dressed, we're leaving in half an hour."
Knowing that it was pointless to argue, Daphne traipsed into her bedroom and tried not to notice the similarities between her sister's visit and all of the times her mother had forced her to spend hot, itchy afternoons in robe fitting after robe fitting. She did as she was told, donning a casual green sundress and some coral lipstick, the latter of which had been chosen to keep the peace, before leaving her bedroom.
Astoria was shamelessly rifling through her post when Daphne emerged – she didn't even cease her search when her older sister gave a pointed cough, hand outstretched.
"Do I pass inspection?" Daphne tried and failed to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.
"Barely. Don't you own any shoes that aren't flat?" Astoria continued to stare at the letter on the top of the small pile.
"I own five pairs of heels, which you know because they've been Christmas and birthday gifts from you for the past couple of years." She had hoped to make her younger sister laugh, or even have Astoria poke out her tongue as she had often done as a child, however no such reaction was forthcoming.
"Why has Narcissa Malfoy written to you?" Curious, she turned to face Daphne. "Her owl brought this whilst you were getting changed."
"What?" Daphne barely managed to keep the panic from her voice.
"Narcissa Malfoy – that's her handwriting. She's invited you out to that little cafe on to take afternoon tea. You know, she used to send me all of these snooty notes reminding me to do x, y and z every time I was going to be seen in public with her precious son. As if any of it helped, in the end..."
As Astoria reminisced, Daphne managed to think of a plausible cover story.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's one of mother's schemes to turn me into a proper lady." Shrugging, Daphne pulled her letters from Astoria's unresisting hands and dropped them onto the arm of the sofa. "Shall we go, then?"
"Okay." Accepting Daphne's explanation, she followed her sister from the flat.
They walked through the streets of London together, making light conversation as they went. Daphne looked through the crowds every so often, slightly worried that Lucius would attempt to follow her once more. It was an irrational fear, because the last thing he would want was for anyone connected to his son to learn of his affair with her, and yet still Daphne found herself searching for him.
It was a relief to her when they made it to the finally reached the shop and were out of the public view.
Upon spotting Astoria, who, if the size of the older witch's smile was anything to go by, was quite possibly one of her best customers, Madam Malkin approached the Greengrass sisters immediately. She fussed over Astoria, leaving Daphne to browse the racks of material in peace.
"What are you looking for today, Miss Greengrass – anything in particular, or are you looking for something that catches your eye?" The proprietor knew that it was best to attempt to engage Astoria in conversation, as scarcely a week passed when the younger Greengrass didn't come to her to make some sort of impulsive purchase.
"Actually, Daphne needs a new set of robes today, because she's going to speak at a conference next month." A note of pride entered Astoria's voice, which caused her older sister to smile as she picked through the fabric samples.
"Is that so? Well, you'll want to dress to impress, in that case." Madam Malkin bustled over to a rack of various professional prints, and Daphne was just about to point out a pinstripe she found particularly appealing when Astoria spoke.
"Don't you think that Daphne would look better in something a bit more colourful, Madam Malkin? Everyone's going to be wearing black and grey, after all." Astoria looked as innocent as ever, smiling beatifically when the seamstress nodded her assent.
"Hmm, perhaps you're right. What do you think, poppet?" She looked at Daphne expectantly, but Astoria beat her older sister to the punch once more.
"She looks beautiful in red, don't you think?"
"Yes, that would suit your sister's colouring." Madam Malkin discarded the plain fabrics and raised her wand, summoning a variety of red samples for her customers to examine.
"This one?" Astoria pointed to a silk that would look gaudy under the circumstances.
"No, I'd much rather wear something plainer." Daphne's protests fell on deaf ears as the other two witches held materials beside her in order to judge whether or not they were suitable. At last, four were picked out and Daphne was allowed to make a decision.
"I quite like this red corduroy." She ran a finger over the sample material. It was soft to touch, and the colour was warm and rich without being too bright for her to be professional looking in it. It was clear from her expression that Astoria thought little of her sister's choice, however the seamstress nodded thoughtfully.
"An excellent choice – now let's get you fitted up." Seemingly of their own accord, the inch tapes took Daphne's measurements. As the basics of the outfit came into being, the sisters chatted together. Madam Malkin jotted down a few notes on a bit of paper as she worked and, when she was finished planning the outfit, nodded. "If you come back tomorrow to check that it sits right, that should be all that's needed."
"Thank you very much." Daphne was thankful that Madam Malkin sensed her unwillingness to wait around until the robes had been created. It was only zealous shoppers such as Astoria who preferred to stay in the shop as the outfit was made from scratch.
"Goodbye!" With a jaunty wave, Astoria led the way from the shop. She frowned slightly. "You'd better go for tea and scones with Her Royal Majesty, I think."
Daphne couldn't help but groan. She had, much to her surprise, enjoyed her outing. Experiencing a sudden rush of affection for her sister, she wrapped both arms tightly around Astoria's bird-like shoulders.
"Thanks for today, Astoria."
"Don't mention it. You've been looking after me ever since I was born." With a teasing grin, Astoria took a step backwards. "It's about time that I tried to return the favour. And if Narcissa gets on your nerves, be sure and tell her where to go. Ciao!"
Astoria blew her sister a farewell kiss and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Daphne to find her way to the cafe. She resented that Narcissa felt as though she had the right to simply summon her – it was exactly the kind of arrogance that could be seen in Lucius' words and actions – however, the fact that Narcissa had been willing to issue the invitation at all, especially in light of her split from Lucius, suggested that there was no frivolous wish to taunt behind her reasoning. There were times when Daphne was certain that the Malfoys shared an agenda, yet there had also been moments when she could have sworn that their aims led in totally opposite directions.
As soon as Daphne arrived at the tearoom, she was escorted up the stairs into the parlour that her mother had occasionally reserved for special days out. Narcissa's back was facing her, and although her facial expressions never gave much away, Daphne felt that she was at an immediate disadvantage. She remained silent, determined to force Lucius' wife to acknowledge her presence.
At last, Narcissa turned to greet her. Her eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly as she caught sight of Daphne's dress, which was plain in comparison to hers. Narcissa had not overdressed, yet her clothes exuded wealth and status.
"Miss Greengrass." She gestured for Daphne to round the table and sit.
"Mrs Malfoy." Daphne nodded to her, willing to put aside their battle of wills now that Narcissa had managed to put aside her own pride. "You wanted to see me, I think."
"Yes." It seemed that she was in no rush to explain herself. Narcissa produced her wand from the folds of her robes and pointed it at the silver teapot sitting between them. "I'll be mother, shall I?"
The slight inflection of irony in her voice did not go unmissed by Daphne.
"What I had with Lucius is over. There's no need for you to keep on like this because I'm not a threat anymore – at least, not to you." Grudgingly, she took her cup of tea before Narcissa could add milk or sugar.
For a split second, Narcissa faltered. She decided to give up on pretence as the conversation continued.
"You never were a threat to me." Narcissa's lip curled. Delicately, she added sugar to her own teacup before placing the spoon back on the saucer. "Certainly, you puzzled me – I was and am curious as to what it was about you that attracted my husband. Might I speak candidly?"
"You might, although you probably won't. Whatever it was I had, it wasn't enough. You're probably looking too hard." With relish, Daphne sliced a scone in half and buttered it generously. She doubted her companion would touch any of the food that had been left out for them, although it all looked delicious. Even Astoria had put aside the diets of her teenage years in order to taste them.
Ignoring Daphne's jibe, Narcissa considered her words. She frowned, an expression that immediately transported Daphne back to the Slytherin Common Room; Draco had worn an identical look whenever he was confused by an assignment.
"Most likely, yes. You're so young, and spirited; there's no reserve and, at points, if you'll forgive my saying so, you can even be uncouth – it isn't my intent to insult you, Miss Greengrass." Seeing that Daphne was on the brink of discarding her untouched tea and leaving, Narcissa hurried on. "You know my husband, and that he and I are of a similar disposition. Lucius is cunning, and he goes after what he wants, although he'll never take the route that's immediately obvious, a rule to which you are one of very few exceptions, and he's... Well, you know how he is."
"No, I don't. I thought I did – quite a lot of time, actually – but I never could pinpoint anything about him." Daphne looked down at the table, her reflection almost sharp on the surface. She missed the brief, unguarded look of surprise that passed across Narcissa's face. When she looked back up again, it had been artfully suppressed.
"There's nothing presumptuous about you. Maybe that's what he liked..." Narcissa took a sip from her teacup and, rather miraculously, her red lipstick didn't leave a mark against the porcelain. "Anyway, I had underestimated your hold on him. Lucius is... he's very fond of you."
Daphne stared.
"That's exactly how he chose to express it." She wondered if Lucius had confessed his 'affection' for her to his wife and asked her, in a roundabout way, whether she would be kind enough to impart some kind of message. Or maybe he had blackmailed Narcissa – she wouldn't put it past him.
"It's true. He adores you, and I think that you -"
"Mrs Malfoy, I made it quite clear that I wanted nothing to do with Lucius, and I think that it would be easier if, by extension, I included you." Daphne pushed her chair back, not caring that it scraped against the floor. She reached to lift her wand from the table when Narcissa's fingers closed around her wrist, her grip strong.
"Listen to me, Daphne. I'm going to be every bit as direct as you want me to be. Lucius told me a little of what it was that passed between you. He regrets it very much." Narcissa's eyes had taken on a fierce shine.
"He found me last night on my way home from work, and now this – will you both stop trying to contact me?" Daphne wriggled free, yet made no move to leave. She had no intention of doing so until she had extracted a promise from Narcissa.
"You saw him with your own two eyes. He's not – he misses you." Narcissa sighed heavily. "I know better than anyone what he's capable of. Not once did Lucius hurt me. Never. Nor did he... nor did he do any of the irrational things that you encouraged him to do. I can tell that you want him back, the best parts of him, and that you're frightened of the worst."
"You don't know -"
"Yes, I do. We've been married since before you were born." The vehemence in Narcissa's voice caused Daphne to listen closely. "I have never seen him like this before because he's never cared for anyone so selflessly in his life – not even our son."
"What? It's good of you to say, but it's too late for this to do any good." Daphne gestured helplessly. She couldn't let herself believe a word of what Narcissa was saying, because if she did...
"Draco doesn't see him, not ever in public and especially not in private; did you know that? Hasn't done since the war ended. If they happen to meet, he'll try and leave. He blames Lucius for too much, and me for too little. Perhaps it's my fault – I couldn't stand it if my son hated me, and so I've never really spoken to him about what happened. The night before your... fight, Draco had agreed to meet with his father on the condition that I was present. It wasn't successful by anyone's standards, and Lucius was so very disappointed. He was hurt and he was angry and he was suffering because of all of his past mistakes. Go back to him, Daphne." Narcissa waved away the flow of interruptions that threatened to spill from Daphne's throat. "At least consider it."
"Why are you saying this?" Suspicious, she regarded Narcissa as one would look at a poisonous snake. Every word could be loaded with venom. "Why are you saying all of these things to me?"
"Because I don't believe that Lucius will try and talk to you again, no matter how much he may wish to do so, and it's entirely your choice what happens next." Narcissa spoke as though she was addressing a small child, her voice containing a strained sort of patience. "You'll think about it, yes?"
"I can't." Dazed by the way her opinion of Lucius was threatening to change again, reshaping the ground beneath her feet, Daphne backed away. "I can't. Goodbye, Mrs Malfoy."
Narcissa merely nodded in response, unsurprised by being met with such a reaction.
Fleeing from the cafe, Daphne walked all the way to Temperance's house. Knowing that Draco lived only a few house along the street didn't help her to gather her thoughts. She pictured Lucius standing on his son's doorstep, his demeanour all the more serious in order to hide his discomfort. Against her better judgement, she wished that she could have comforted him simply by sitting beside him, perhaps even telling him about her research. However, knowing more about the situation didn't cause her anger to abate, nor did it make her any less sad.
When Temperance saw that her neck was free of marks, she smiled but said nothing. They worked in silence, for which Daphne was grateful. She knew that the only thing to be done was to put all of herself into preparing for the conference and hope that once it had finished, her feelings would have settled.
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