Desperate times call for desperate measures. And even the most dedicated people can resort to destruction. So the question is, is Queen D looking for self-destruction, or is she out for the destruction of others?

Pull up a seat and grab your popcorn.

I think we're in for a killer show.

~xoxo, Gossip Witch

"Davies," Daphne called, waving him over to her table as soon as he stepped foot into Three Broomsticks. She took a sip of her firewhisky as she waited for him to join her. "Take a seat," she said, nodding at the chair opposite her.

"What am I doing here, Daphne?" Roger asked, collapsing into the chair across from her. He looked her up and down, taking note of the three empty whiskey glasses sitting at the opposite end of the table. "Actually, how long have you been here?"

Daphne followed his eyes to the empty glasses at the end of the table and rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about those," she huffed, pushing the glasses further down the table. "A few of them were here when I sat down."

"Yeah," Roger scoffed, shaking his head. "What am I doing here?"

"Were you at the match today?" Daphne asked, finishing off her firewhisky before flagging down the waitress and ordering another round. "Do you want something to drink?"

"A butterbeer would be lovely," Roger said, flashing a smile to the waitress. He waited to say anything else until she had walked away. Then, turning his attention back to Daphne, Roger nodded his head. "Yeah, weren't you?"

Daphne shook her head. "Blaise asked me not to go."

"Didn't want you watching Nott the entire game or finding your next hook up in the stands?" Roger asked, snickering as he watched her eyes go wide.

Daphne reached across the table and smacked Roger upside the head. "That was uncalled for. What goes on behind closed doors is none of your business," she growled, narrowing her gaze at him.

"I only know what Gossip Witch and locker room chitter-chatter tell me," Roger said, shrugging his shoulders. He smiled as the waitress set their drinks down on the table. "Thanks, love."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Gossip Witch doesn't know anything."

"You're just pissed off that she exposed your secret relationship behind your sister's and boyfriend's back. Was Zabini not everything you were hoping he'd be when you were chasing him away from Ginny?" Roger asked, taking a sip of his butterbeer as he watched her reaction.

"Don't talk shit about Blaise," Daphne hissed, tracing the rim of her glass with her thumb. "He's a good wizard; he definitely deserves someone better than me."

Roger nodded his head slowly as he studied Daphne's face for a few moments. She was genuinely upset about her relationship with Blaise, and his mocking wasn't helping the situation. Finally, he sat up straight and leaned forward, reaching out to gently touch her hand.

Daphne pulled her hand away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Were you at the game today or not?"

Roger rolled his eyes. "I was."

"Who was in the accident?" Daphne asked, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes as she waited for his answer. Her mind had jumped to the worst possible scenario when word of the accident made it to the common room. That was when she decided she needed to get the hell off of campus. She needed a distraction from the worst.

"Potter and Malfoy collided going after the snitch," Roger said.

A rush of relief flew through Daphne's body as she reached for her glass, lifting it to her lips and downing the amber liquid inside. While she was grateful to hear that it wasn't Blaise or Theo that had been hurt, Daphne was still upset to hear it had been one of her favorite housemates. "Are they okay?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

"Madam Hooch called the game a draw when they were taken to the infirmary," Roger replied, taking another sip of butterbeer. "The last I heard, they were both unconscious. Madam Pomfrey wasn't sure how long they would stay that way, but she was hopeful they'd be talking by tomorrow."

"Wow," Daphne said, opening her eyes wide as she exhaled sharply. "Hopefully, Pomrey's right. What does that mean for the rest of the Quidditch season?"

"You should ask Blaise," Roger said, nodding his head toward the door. Daphne followed his eyes and saw Blaise standing in the doorway, staring at her.

Daphne slid out of the booth and made her way over to him. She draped her arms around her neck, offering him a hug only to be disappointed when he didn't hold her back. "Hey," she whispered, pulling away and tucking her hands behind her back.

"How long have you been here?" Blaise asked, his voice cold as he looked her up and down. He shook his head as he inhaled the strong scent of firewhisky on her breath. "Or should I ask, how many drinks have you had?"

"Blaise, I," Daphne began, only to be cut off.

"Save it," Blaise hissed, rolling his eyes. "I just wanted to make sure you were alive, and now that I know, I'm going to go check on Draco."

He turned on his heel and pushed the door open. Daphne watched for a moment before chasing out the door after him.

"Blaise Zabini, you get your ass back here and talk to me," she yelled, planting her hands on her hips as she watched him.

Blaise stopped and turned on his heel slowly to look at her. "Now is not the time, Greengrass. Now is not the time."

~xoxo, Gossip Witch ~

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