Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; all characters belong to JK Rowling. The title comes from "Exile" by Taylor Swift and Bon Iver.

13th May, 1998

"It's still not too late," her father said as he stared at her from across his desk. It was only the two of them in his office: Astoria had been ordered out by father, and mother had refused to "watch one of my daughters mutilate herself" as she'd so charmingly put it. The contract was on the desk and he had the point of his wand held on it. There was no warmth in his expression, rather a grim sort of challenge: he'd thought that stopping just before the point of no return would make her back down.

The worst part was now that she was about to do this, she could feel the pent up anxiety threatening to come to the surface. If she did this, she would be saying goodbye to her magic, to her family and home, to any dreams she might have had about curse-breaking or experimental magic. Her father must have seen something flicker in her face because he said calmly, "You must realize how foolish this is. Do you actually think you could survive without magic? Without our name or money? It's just marriage, Daphne."

Only a lifetime of being despised by Potter and his friends, and most likely wizarding Britain as a whole, while she grew to hate him back. It sounded exhausting.

Only a lifetime of knowing she took the easy way out, like she had so many times during school.

I don't want to be the bad guy.

Daphne closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if she was preparing for a dive. Her arm felt heavy as she reached down to touch the contract with her own cedar wand. Her father had gone very still, the beginnings of doubt had begun to creep into his expression. Daphne's hand trembled, but she kept her wand trained on the documents, and she started to speak, "I, Daphne Estelle Greengrass, will not marry Harry James Potter."

The contract began to glow under the points of both their wands.

"In doing so, I forfeit" - her voice broke, and she had to swallow before continuing - "I forfeit my magic."

A strand of light began to twist around her wand, creeping its way up until it reached her hand. It continued until it reached her wrist and wrapped around it and it felt hot against her skin. "I accept these terms."

Daphne hadn't expected it to hurt.

How naïve of her.

The skin on her wrist burned where the light had wrapped around it, but what was worse was the way the light felt as if it was burning her from the inside out. She let out a scream as the searing pain moved upwards, towards her heart, and her vision went white. She hadn't vomited, but it had been a close thing.

It was only seconds, but it felt so much longer. The pain vanished as quickly as it started and her vision came back into focus; she looked down at her hand, but the skin of her wrist was unburned. Her fingers had lost their grip on her wand at some point and it was lying on the desk. Everything felt wrong.

Now that the light and heat had dissipated, her entire body felt cold and heavy. She sat slumped in the chair and watched absently as father rose from his chair. He said nothing, didn't so much as look at her, as he walked past her and out of the room. It would have hurt less if he'd bothered to make some sort of cutting remark.

"Daphne?" Astoria's voice asked from somewhere behind her.

Instead of answering her sister, she pushed herself forward so she was leaning slightly over the desk. Ignoring the way her head pounded at the movement, she reached out and grabbed her wand, though her fingers felt clumsy. She had to see for herself that it had actually worked. Her eyes caught on the contract and she held out her wand and pointed to it. "Wingardium leviosa," she said.

Nothing happened.

"Wingardium leviosa," she repeated, more forcibly.

It stayed where it was.

Astoria had walked up behind her and started, "Daphne, that's not going to-"

'Wingardium leviosa," she'd cut her sister off, desperation starting to creep into her voice.

The contract didn't so much as twitch.

"Wingardium leviosa! Wingardium leviosa!" Her voice started to crack now, and she only sounded more and more desperate as the contract stayed firmly on the desk. "Wingardium leviosa! Wingardium leviosa!" Tears had started to blur her vision. "Wingardium leviosa! Wing-"

A hand suddenly clamped down on her wrist, stopping her from performing the wand movements. "Stop," Astoria said softly. "Please, just stop. You can't...it's not going to work, Daph." Her sister's voice was gentle and she sounded as if she was trying to soothe a spooked kneazle.

The kindness in Tori's voice was what ended up being the tipping point as a choked sob escaped her lips instead of words. The tears started hard and fast then and she couldn't stop. Astoria knelt down in front of her and pulled her into a hug, and Daphne grabbed onto her little sister as if she was a life raft. "That's...that's alright. Just let it out. I'm here. I've got you, Daph."

Tori held onto her as she cried for what felt like hours, and her mind kept circling back to one question:

What have I done?

6th May, 2003:

It would be inaccurate to say that Daphne Greengrass no longer had magic.

Oh, no, it was still there. At times, she could practically feel it buzzing under her skin, wanting desperately to go somewhere, but that was all it was now: a feeling. Daphne could no longer connect to it, all she had was a nagging awareness that it wasn't gone, just lost to her.

She almost wondered if it would have been easier if it was gone completely, like it had felt the night it was first sealed. It might have been easier for her to move on, to be happier, if all traces of it had vanished. She couldn't imagine forgetting it, but would emptiness have been easier to adjust to?

There was no way to say, because there was no way to actually remove magic from a witch or wizard. No, all you could do was bind it away from them, making them useless.

"It's difficult to see you like this, ma bichette, knowing you did this to yourself."

That was what her mother had said to her the first and last time they'd spoken after father had kicked her out of their home. Her own mother had found it hard to even look at her, though admittedly she'd never been a particularly strong presence in Daphne's life. They didn't talk after that -though Daphne sometimes got updates from Astoria- and neither did she and father. Shocker.

Tori was the only family member who still wanted to associate with her. (And she supposed Draco too, but he was more an extension of Astoria.) No matter how annoyed Daphne was with her for telling Potter, she still loved Astoria. That thought drew her eyes back to her mobile on the kitchen table and the message from the little meddler herself: I'm sorry. Forgive me?

The other thing she appreciated from Astoria (and the three friends she was also regularly in contact with) was her willingness to learn some muggle things. (Which wasn't exactly a hardship for a former Ravenclaw, though two of the other three had been more of a surprise.) Mobiles had been a priority since Daphne had no access to the floo network where she lived and her muggle flatmate would notice owls tapping on the window. So with a sigh, she picked up the mobile and sent back one word: Forgiven.

She hadn't told Astoria or anyone else about Potter, just like she hadn't told any of them about the first run-in with him. Daphne ran a hand over her face as she thought back to their conversation. "It's not pity. It's me trying to make things right. We can start by looking to see if we can unseal your magic and-"

Daphne didn't hate Potter, not really, but that made her want to. Sealing her magic had been crushing; in the beginning, after she'd started being able to go outside by herself again (sounded dramatic, but she'd lost the only way to defend herself that she'd known at that point and the war had only just ended), she'd thrown herself into learning how to live as a muggle. It was for survival, yes, but she'd wanted to distance herself from the magical community as much as possible. The loss had been too fresh back then and it hurt to be so close to something she could no longer do.

She'd adapted since, but did she want her magic freed?

More than anything.

But could it be unsealed?

Not as far she knew.

Daphne had thought she had made peace with that fact, but the sheer wanting she'd felt in that moment made her realize she hadn't. Not really. Damn him. The gall he had to criticize the way she'd gotten him out of marrying her and then he brought up wanting to bring back her magic, as if that wasn't a cruel impossibility.

What was worse was that his words had wormed their way into her brain; they kept rising to the forefront of her mind when she wasn't working. Even things like reading or working on her project weren't capable of getting rid of them for long. She was off for two days, which would make distracting herself harder, but thankfully today she had some company.

There was a knock on the door, and she glanced at the time before walking towards it. On time as usual. Still she checked before opening the door for Theo Nott, one of her few friends. "Hey Theo," she said, as he walked past her into the flat.

Tall and lean, Theo had changed out of his Unspeakable robes and into a tee-shirt and jeans before coming here. His bright green eyes scanned the flat almost suspiciously before he asked, "Siobhan is out right?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "She's visiting her family. So yes, Theo, she's not going to be here to laugh as you try to burn down our flat."

When Daphne had off-handedly mentioned Theo visiting today, Siobhan had been very disappointed that she wouldn't be hear to watch, in her words, "one of your weird, ex-cult friends trying to cook''. Daphne had stopped trying to tell her flatmate that she hadn't been in a cult a long time ago.

He ran a hand through his black hair, a gesture that reminded her unnervingly of Potter for a second, and frowned at her. "That was one time, Daph. I'm confident that won't happen again."

"A confidence I wish I shared," she said, bumping him with her shoulder playfully as she stepped around him into the kitchen. "You still haven't told me why you want to learn to cook the muggle way."

Theo just shrugged before coming to a stop in front of the stove; he eyed it as it was a cornered kneazle preparing to lash out, which did not bode well for this lesson. "Why not? I think it's important to try and develop new skills. More importantly: you can bet that my father is rolling in his grave because his precious son and heir is condescending to trying things the muggle way." There was a glint of grim satisfaction in his eye and his mouth had twisted into a smirk as he said it.

Daphne had taken down a pot from the kitchen cabinet and paused. Turning to the side to look at him, she said, "Well done, that was an almost perfect Slytherin sneer and the daddy issues were a nice touch. 9 out of 10, Theo. Now what's the real reason?"

"Yeah, you're one to talk about daddy issues," he scoffed. She silently arched an eyebrow at him and he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Maybe I just want to spend time with my friend. Did you ever think about that?"

"Aw. You're so sweet, and so full of shite," she laughed. He huffed as she took down another pot and she asked, "Tracey seems to think there's a witch you have your eye on. Any correlation between that and your sudden interest in cooking?"

"Tracey should mind her own business," he muttered, but not low enough for her to miss what he said. She raised an eyebrow again and he rolled his eyes. "Alright, there is someone from work. She's a muggleborn and I thought it would be a nice gesture to learn how to cook something for her."

She gave him a small smile. "That is sweet. Did we go to school with her? Would I know her?" The people she knew from their school years and still spoke to on a somewhat regular basis could be counted on one hand, but it wasn't like she'd blocked out the names of everyone else she'd gone to Hogwarts with.

Silence.

Daphne glanced over at Theo again to see a flash of something almost like guilt before he stared down at the floor. "I'd rather keep that to myself right now. I want to see if it's going to be serious first, before I start telling people." Disappointing, but not unreasonable. Why did he look guilty?

Shrugging, she said, "Fine, keep your secrets. Spaghetti is simple enough, let's try that." A smile playing on her lips, she added, "You ruin it though and we're getting pizza. On you."

"I'm not going to ruin it," he said dismissively.

He ruined it.

The pizza was good though and Theo kept her mind off Potter the entire time he was here.

So she was counting that as a win.

9th May, 2003:

Daphne was more than fine with trying to ignore Potter's existence, but Potter apparently had different plans.

It had been easier to push things out of her mind while she was working and Friday nights were at least busy. She was alone at the bar as Robbie was running late -but he swore he was only ten, maybe fifteen minutes late tops, and then told her to stop rolling her eyes as he 'see' her doing so even through a phone call- and she was busy getting drinks for the group of blokes that had stumbled in on some stag night pub crawl.

Groups like that could be not great to serve, but these blokes were largely unthreatening if rowdy. "Do a shot with us," said the soon to be groom. Daphne tried to laugh it off, but he insisted, "Come on. I'm getting married." In the end, she filled a shot glass for herself with water and downed it to get them to go away.

"Does anyone ever realize you're just drinking water?" asked a quiet, uncomfortably familiar voice.

"Not when they're that drunk," she replied before looking at him.

Just like the first night she'd seen him in five years, Daphne was struck by how different he looked since their one meeting. The boy who'd just walked away from the final battle had been tightly wound; he'd seemed constantly on edge to the point he hadn't even been able to sit or stand still, as if he was preparing to dodge a hex at any moment. Sleep and steady meals had looked like they'd been a foreign concept to him back then as well. The man he was today actually looked like he was capable of relaxing and he didn't seem like he was about to snap at those around him at any moment. He'd filled out some and was taller than she remembered, and if he'd been some random bloke she'd have thought him handsome.

But he wasn't a random man. He was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and her former fiancé.

Daphne had not lied when she said she didn't hate Potter. No, what she felt for him was different, more complex. Resentment was probably closest, but even that didn't fit entirely. He was a walking, talking reminder of everything she'd lost the moment she decided to do the noble thing. He wasn't the one who came up with the contract, or the one who decided that sealing magic was an appropriate punishment for not following through on a wedding, so in that sense it wasn't his fault, but it was still hard to look at him and not feel bitter. And that was before their last conversation a week ago when he'd pissed her off.

"What can I get you?" she asked, her smile not reaching her eyes.

"Guinness again would be fine. But I'm actually here to apologize." She stared at him in surprise and he smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry about how our last conversation ended; I shouldn't have lost my temper with you. And I'm sorry about how things ended up five years ago."

Daphne placed the glass down in front of him, but stayed quiet as he paid; she was trying to think of what to say. Before she could, the expression on his face steeled and he continued, "But I meant what I said. I think what happened to you is bullshite-"

You and me both.

"-and I want to find a way to reverse it. I'm not pitying you." She made a scoffing sound and he ignored that. "I should have tried to find out what happened to you sooner, but I would have helped you if you came to me." That had been Pansy and Tracey's thoughts on it: she sacrificed her magic to get him out of marrying her, so at the very least he owed her some compensation.

Daphne had found the idea of approaching him again, magic sealed and disinherited, too humiliating. She hadn't really wanted to see him again anyway.

"And I still think you should have told me before you did something, we could have talked about it."

"So nothing has changed since our last conversation," she said finally. "I'm not changing my mind either. Sorry you came here for nothing."

He nodded and stood up, drink in hand. The surprise must have shown on her face as he smiled. "I like this bar. I think I'll be coming here more often." He walked towards one of the tables before she could even say anything.

Son of a bitch.

Notes: I'd like to thank Akamoroti, who gave me some edits for the flashback portion of the chapter on the Harry/Daphne discord server. Link to server is here, if you're interested: discord gg pKSdvJQvhU. Hopefully more of that url came through the second time, when I remembered to take out the slashes.

I felt this chapter should be used to flesh out Daphne more; to give people more of an insight to her life, how she's been dealing with things, and her reactions to Harry. I imagine she's the type who when she makes a decision blocks out anxiety, etc, until she's done it and then has to deal with it after. I would like to point out while Harry should have read it, he does have a point when he says she could have told him once she realized what had to be done or asked him for help at any point in the last five years.

Now, saying Daphne might have made some mistakes doesn't mean I'm saying that Harry made none, or vice versa. Keep that in mind.

Thank you for reading!