Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All characters belong to JK Rowling. The story and chapter titles are taken from the song "Coughing Up Flowers" by Trinity Rose.

Thank you to Webstriker, Honorversefan, and ubiquitlyverbose for their edits.

Red carnation: Alas for my poor heart! Admiration. My heart aches for you. Fascination.

-Victorian flower language

In the end, Daphne didn't know why she had bothered to go to St. Mungo's.

She spent over an hour in the waiting room on a Sunday just to get told everything she already knew. Healer Macdonald, a man somewhere in his thirties, was as overworked as any other healer. But there was something else in his expression as he described the disease to her, a faint fascination.

Fatal, unless the flowers growing in her lungs were removed.

Three months to live at the least, eighteen months at most if untreated.

All feelings and memories of Harry would disappear as soon as the flowers were removed.

"When you say all memories," she started, fidgeting with a bracelet on her left wrist, "do you mean just personal memories or everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Facts that aren't connected to you. Like if the person won a quidditch game before you got to know them, would they forget that as well?"

"I'm afraid so. Everything about the person would be gone from your mind."

That would be interesting. So Harry's defeat of Voldemort — both times — would be gone from her memories. Considering she was at the final battle at Hogwarts, she couldn't help but be morbidly curious. What about Hermione and Ron? Would she just remember their parts during the last war, but not that there was a third person with them? There would definitely be no way to hide getting the flowers removed, given that she'd be losing a chunk of recent history, if that were her choice.

If.

Daphne did not want to die, but sacrificing her memories of Harry wasn't appealing either. Growing up, she'd been so sure that she'd either not fall in love or chose the removal process instead of letting herself die from Hanahaki. Arrogant. If only the teenage her could see the adult her now. Daphne felt the mad urge to laugh for a few seconds and bit her lip to stop herself.

She was sure Father would be laughing in his grave if he actually had a sense of humour.

The healer was speaking to her but she'd been too lost in thought to register what he said. "I'm sorry?"

"I was asking if you would like to schedule an appointment for the removal now. I-"

"Actually, I need some time to think things over," she answered, standing up. "Thank you for your time. I will contact St. Mungo's later to communicate my decision."

Feeling like a prize idiot, Daphne retreated from the room and into the hall. She felt oddly disconnected from her body as she walked towards the lift. She was unfortunately dragged right back into the present as a voice called out to her, "Daphne?"

No.

Pansy wasn't on call at St. Mungo's on Sundays; that was why Daphne had come that day. Forcing a smile to come as naturally as she could, she turned around to see Pansy dressed in her lime green healer robes. Healing was an unlikely occupation for Pansy, but after the horrors of the last war and the time she spent on community service and probation, it was definitely a career she turned out to have a surprising aptitude for.

Regardless, she wasn't supposed to be here today.

"Hey Pansy," she replied, casually. "I thought you were off on Sundays."

"I usually am. I had to switch shifts with someone this week." Of course she did. "What are you doing here?"

Smiling sheepishly, Daphne shrugged and said, "I had an accident while experimenting with some charm work. But it's all fine now."

Liar.

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Please do not try and replace Nott as the most likely one to end up in a hospital bed. You're supposed to have someone watching you if you're experimenting."

"It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. I'll see you around."

"See you." The tension in Daphne's shoulders eased once Pansy was out of sight. She would have to be on guard with everything she said and did for a little while.

It wouldn't be the first time she would be keeping a secret.

She would live through it.

Heh. Maybe not.

Harry,

If you're reading this, that means I've forgotten you. Either that, or I'm dead and Astoria didn't burn this like she was told to. Either way.

Stupid.

Daphne flicked her hand and the parchment went blank.

As soon as she returned home from the hospital, Daphne holed up in her family's library to look for anything on Hanahaki. Predictably, she failed; everything the healer told her had matched every book on the subject. She did find an old diary from Ariadne, wedged between two larger books, but she didn't have the heart to look through it at the moment.

And what good would it even do? asked the practical part of her mind. You know how her story ended, and it wasn't pretty.

She set the diary to the side for now, though finding it had given her an idea. Her mother had said years ago that the Greengrass family had more than its fair share of Hanahaki cases. She knew that Ariadne had not reacted well to the treatment; however, she didn't know the identities of any other relatives who'd contracted it, nor what course of action they'd decided on. Daphne then went through the family records for anything on the disease. She looked through the afternoon into the evening, and had come up with around five names aside from Ariadne: Penelope, Hector, Alastair, Calliope, Damon.

Out of the six total, three had chosen to let themselves die: Penelope, Damon, and Hector. Of those three, Hector had lasted the longest at four months. Penelope had just made it to three, and Damon had possibly hastened the process. The record about him was unclear and it left out the total duration. According to the healer and her family's books, eighteen months had been the longest survival time, but it had only happened once so far and that witch had not been related to her. Three months was the average, six was pushing it and a year was rare.

So if she took family predisposition into account, it was likely she would live around three to four months. Perhaps she could go longer, but it wasn't looking good off the information she found so far.

As far as the other three, the results had been mixed. According to her mother, Ariadne had not been the same after treatment as she had been before contracting Hanahaki. Without looking into the woman's diary for further confirmation, Daphne guessed she had experienced major depression afterwards and eventually took her own life the year Daphne started Hogwarts. Alastair had gone on to marry and have children, but there was nothing to indicate what the relationship between he and his spouse had been like and there was not much on his personality. Finally, Calliope had lived to an old age, but remained single all her life and had been an accomplished metal charmer; all Daphne could find about the woman's personality was that her brother had described her as a 'melancholic, prone to bouts of sadness, but otherwise amiable enough.'

Daphne had hoped she could have gotten a more conclusive answer to how past Greengrasses had responded to treatment. Ariadne had been an extreme case, admittedly. Depression was a common side effect, with many also reporting 'feelings of emptiness'. In the most extreme cases, a person allegedly could lose the ability to feel romantic love. Daphne would normally just write that off as dramatics, but the fact that more than one source had listed it stopped her.

She supposed it made sense. Removing the flowers meant removing all memories of the other person, as well as all love and associated feelings for that person. Why wouldn't the disappearance of all of those memories and emotions have an effect on the person's mental or emotional states?

Everyone reacted differently. A lot of people could snap right back after the treatment, while others experienced more negative effects. Ariadne was more extreme, whereas Alistair and Calliope had seemed to adapt better. Would Daphne be an Ariadne or more like the other two if she got the treatment? She couldn't know for sure unless she underwent it herself.

Daphne did not like committing to a course of action without considering all the possibilities. Going back to the Battle of Hogwarts had been one of the most impulsive things she'd ever done. Otherwise, she was a planner.

She wished that the information she'd found out so far had been more conclusive. She was sure there was more — Penelope had been the earliest she'd found, but the notes indicated she wasn't the first Greengrass to have the disease — but it would take more than one night of searching. Even on the ones she found, she needed to know more about them. how long did Damon last? Were Alistair and Calliope happy afterwards? Did the ones who chose to die regret it in the end?

From everything she gathered so far, Daphne had to assume for now that she didn't have a lot of time left. If she refused treatment, she'd most likely die in three months, four tops. If she did get the treatment, she was unlikely to walk away without lasting effects given two out of the three she found. Whether those effects would be Ariadne level or Calliope level was more difficult to process. She should research more, maybe read Ariadne's diary, but she couldn't work up the desire to right then.

"This is so fucked up," she groaned. She should eat but she didn't have an appetite, instead, she'd gotten out a bottle of firewhiskey and started knocking back glasses of that. The whiskey burned her now sensitive throat, but it beat the feeling of coughing up flowers.

What was the right choice here? She was sure everyone in her life would tell her to get the treatment, that it was worth the risks. It was the obvious choice. Pansy would pepper in a lot of swear words, Astoria would likely cry, Hermione would argue the point as if it was a proposal in the Regulation of Magical Creatures Department, and Harry would threaten to stun and carry her to St. Mungo's. That last thought caused her heart to hurt and she knocked back another glass of whiskey.

What should she do about the others? It would be wrong to have them find out by her ending up in the hospital or dying. Probably. It was probably wrong. However, she wasn't ready to tell them yet, not before she reached a decision. Their reactions would influence her thoughts too much. And then there was Harry. She decided there and then that she would only tell him that she loved him if she decided to get the procedure done. If she decided to die, then he didn't need to know that part.

Unfortunately, that was not helping to make the answer to this problem any easier. It might just have been the alcohol, but it felt like her thoughts were starting to circle. That had to be a sign to stop for the night and go to bed.

Hopefully, this would be clearer in the morning.

Hanahaki based stories were always my least favorite when I was growing up. It didn't matter if it was poetry, or books, or plays, I could not get into them. I always thought they were too sappy and too unrealistic. Sure, the treatment could have some lasting effects, but it had to beat dying, right?

The universe apparently runs on irony.

It was a lot harder than I used to think. On the one hand, there are a few things about you that I don't mind forgetting. It's going to make me sound like a hypocrite, but you're moody. You have a temper. You don't think about yourself enough. You think The Weird Sisters are a better band than Spellbound. I tried to hold on to all of that, to make it easier on myself, but there is a lot to like about you too: your kindness being the first thing that comes to mind. I like your sarcasm, your loyalty to your friends, your open-mindedness.

You're also fit.

I severely underestimated the emotional weight of this decision. I didn't-

"This isn't a diary," Daphne muttered. With a wave of her hand, she made the words disappear once again.

Monday came and she should have gone into work, but she couldn't face going into the Ministry. She called in and suspected she only got away with it because she rarely exercised that privilege. She had a headache that morning, but was fine after taking a potion. It couldn't do anything for the on and off cough that started after breakfast though. Fortunately, it wasn't yet on the level of the coughing spasm she'd had the other night. The first time she coughed up a flower petal.

Daphne felt a little better after a shower and then spent most of the morning in her family's library again. She still wasn't quite ready to open Ariadne's diary, so she focused on the others. There wasn't much she could find on Alastair —apparently he wasn't the most popular bloke — but she did find out a little more about Calliope. From what she could gather, Calliope had something akin to seasonal depression, as well as developing a very strong apathy towards relationships, but had a fulfilling career and died of old age.

Daphne would be fine with being a Calliope. She still felt anxious over the fact that she could end up an Ariadne.

By lunch time, she needed a break from everything related to Hanahaki. There was one thing that always put her in a better mood: the horses. The stables were partly magical, so that the horses could be taken care of and exercised when she was at work, but when she was here she preferred to take care of them herself. Daphne had just gotten there, when a purely black horse stuck his head out to nuzzle her. "Hey Shadow," she sighed. She reached out a hand to stroke his head. "I think you could use some grooming right about now."

Daphne was in the middle of just that when her attention was diverted by a familiar voice. "I know you've always had horses, but before now it was hard to imagine you doing this part yourself." His tone was teasing.

She shut her eyes, before she turned around to look at him. Harry stood with his hands in the pockets of his auror robes and his expression was bemused as he watched her; there was a bag hanging off his shoulder but she didn't pay much attention to it. The sight of him pulled at her heart, but she pushed that feeling away. Daphne raised an eyebrow and asked, "Should I be offended?"

He grinned at her. It made her feel warm even now. "I don't know. Stable work doesn't really fit the rich pureblood childhood picture. I reckoned you had house-elves to take care of this part for you." She frowned at him and he gave a sheepish, little shrug. "In my defense, you didn't take Care of Magical Creatures back in school."

"I wanted to," Daphne sighed. She had been excited about it when she saw the list of potential electives. She'd written about it to Tori, but father had seen the letter too. He had owled her and told her in no uncertain terms that she would be taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. End of discussion. "But I was strongly encouraged to take other classes."

Harry frowned. "What happened to not waiting for permission? You could have signed up and made up some lie later."

Daphne smiled ruefully. "I wasn't brave enough back then." She was hardly brave these days. She wasn't able to gather her courage and tell him that she loved him and now it was too late. Shadow must have sensed a change in mood from her as he nuzzled her arm. Her smile turned a bit less sad. "I can't change it now. That's enough about the past. What are you doing here? Don't you have dark wizards and witches to catch?"

"Theo told us that you called in sick. But you don't look that sick." He crossed his arms and tried to look stern, but the effect was ruined by the spark of amusement in his eyes. "Did you just skive off work? For shame, Greengrass, for shame."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Everyone needs a break sometimes. Who could have guessed that you'd become such a rule follower, Potter?" He chuckled and she looked away from his face to the bag on his shoulder. "What's with the bag anyway?"

"When I thought you were actually sick, I bought you something. I suppose you can still have it, even if you don't deserve it," he said as he pulled out a box of chocolate frogs. "Since they're your favorite and all."

Her forehead creased in thought. "I don't remember telling you that."

"I'm an auror. I'm observant. I notice things like you going for the chocolate frogs first when there are sweets out." He paid that much attention to such an inconsequential thing? She felt a mix of affection and sadness, which vanished almost instantly at his next sentence. "Astoria also told me you used to steal them from her when you were kids. So I put two and two together."

"That little brat," she said with a soft laugh. She shook her head and asked, "When did you two even have that conversation?"

He shrugged. "I like your sister. We hang out sometimes. I still can't bring myself to hang out with Malfoy though. I know he served his house arrest and complied with everything, and is doing some good things now, but I can't do it."

The Malfoys trials had gone on for a long time after the war had ended. Lucius had gotten life in Azkaban but Narcissa and Draco had gotten house arrest for two years and then probation after. Fines had been paid as well. That had only been possible because of how much they cooperated in turning over information they had on any Death Eaters they had known. Daphne hadn't expected much change from Draco, but he had surprised her. Outside of the reparations, Draco had spent much more on helping to rebuild, and especially on research on how to better treat the victims of the Imperius curse.

Harry shrugged as he finished, "She's pretty understanding about it though."

That was just another clue she should have picked up on that her feelings couldn't be returned. If they'd been a couple, he'd have to actually put up with Draco. He clearly didn't want to and she couldn't blame him for it.

"Yeah, Tori's nice like that."

"So we're friends now. She's as interested in muggle things as you are." He smirked suddenly. "It's also a good opportunity to learn some new things about you, Daph. Did you actually cause a mini snow storm in your living room to get back at your sister?"

"She broke my toy Swedish Short Snout," she protested. It was like a switch had been flipped in her brain and she'd gone back to childhood for a moment. "I loved it and I told her not to touch it!"

"Didn't your mother end up fixing it with magic?"

"That was later and that wasn't the point. The principle of the thing was that I told her not to do something and she did it anyway." She crossed her arms. "And it was accidental magic! It's not like I did it on purpose."

Harry smiled. "Your sister can really bring out a different side of you. It's cute."

Her face turned pink and she glared at him. "Let's get one thing straight, Potter. I am not now, nor have I ever been cute." He smirked at her and she rolled her eyes. "Oh no, you don't get to smirk about this. You betrayed me-"

"That's a bit dramatic," he said, raising an eyebrow.

She ignored him. "-even worse, you betrayed me with my own sister. I will never forget this." The corners of her mouth twitched upwards, but she held herself back from smiling fully.

Harry continued to look amused. "Don't be like that. You're my favorite Greengrass."

He had no idea what that did to her heart. She gave him her best haughty, pureblood look. "Of course I am." Inside, she felt warmed by that sentiment, even though she knew it meant nothing.

She might be his favorite Greengrass, but Ginny was still his favorite. Period. The reminder hurt, literally. Her lungs felt as if they were constricting and she could imagine the vines of the plant wrapping around them.

Don't let me cough around him. Please.

Harry shook his head at her, but he was smiling in amusement. "Never lose that self-confidence." His smile turned softer as he said, "I feel like I haven't really talked to you in a few weeks. Or a few people really. Since Ginny and I-"

"I get it, you don't have to explain." She really didn't want to hear anything about his relationship with Ginny at the moment. The itch at the back of her throat was slowly worsening. "You're in the honeymoon period again. You're allowed to prioritize your girlfriend."

"Well yeah, but I still miss you, and the others too." His mouth curved down into a frown as he looked at her. "Are you sure you're not actually sick? You're pale."

"I'm always pale, Harry," she scoffed. "In our first year, Blaise actually asked me if I was part- vampire."

His lips moved but he didn't smile. "If you're sure-"

"I am."

"Alright, then I'll see you at work. I need to get back now, my lunch is almost over. Bye Daphne," he said and handed her the chocolate frogs box before heading out. Daphne watched him leave and, thankfully once he was out of sight, she started coughing.

The coughs started shallowly, but deepened the longer the fit went on. Her chest hurt as she struggled to breathe but she just kept coughing. In the end, she was left with three red petals. She closed her eyes as she felt tears prick at them and then she was distracted as she felt her horse rest his head on her shoulder.

She opened her eyes and gave a watery smile. "Thanks boy. I love you too."

Despite how everything turned out, I am glad that we met again. I'm glad we were friends.

I'm sorry how things ended, but it's no one's fault. I'd say I'll miss you, but I'm not even going to know who you are after this. From what I've read, it shouldn't harm me if we interact after I forget you, so if you wanted to try and be friends again, that might be possible. I'll leave that up to you.

I would like that, but I understand if-

"Desperate," she sighed, before vanishing the words again.

After Harry had left and she finished up at the stables, she went back to looking for more information on Hanahaki. That had been going fine, until she found herself thinking about the average lifespan of an untreated patient within her family and realized that the moment she likely contracted it had been two weeks ago.

Did the countdown start from there, or when the petals actually started showing up?

Was she already on week three of the first month? What had the healer said?

Daphne had to stop at the point and focus on breathing, as the walls in the room seemed to close in on her. Once that had subsided, she confirmed that it was believed that the flowers didn't start showing up until the second week, so it looked like she had less time than she had guessed at first. Fantastic.

She decided that simply researching the disease and the way it affected members of her family was perhaps not working that well for her in regards to the decision making process. Maybe a better way to handle this would be to try and focus on what she could be losing in the situation.

"I'm actually writing a pros and cons list, fuck," she muttered as she took out a parchment and quill. She felt absolutely ridiculous as she wrote out the first pro as simply: continuing to live. No, that was stupid; she had to go deeper than that. Since she had been at the stables today, her first real reason ended up being her horses.

She loved those animals, loved riding and taking care of them, and dying would mean leaving them alone. If she did die, she would have to make sure they would be taken care of. While Astoria liked them well enough, her sister didn't love them like she did, and she wasn't sure Draco would be particularly interested in them either. It would also be unfair to leave it to them to find a new home for her horses. Mother did, maybe she….

Mother.

It hit her then that she would have to tell mother no matter what she decided. Did it speak badly of her that she hadn't thought of mother until now? She was in contact with her mother - not as much as Astoria probably was, but they wrote - and she loved her mother, she just...wasn't sure how much she could rely on the woman. It would be a lie that part of her didn't want to run to her mother and beg her to fix this like she had when she was a little girl.

But then she remembered things like the way mother would get into one of her "dark moods" and lock herself in her room or not get out of bed. Daphne knew that wasn't entirely mother's fault, but it had felt terrible when she'd been had also been the way mother focused more on her and father's toxic relationship, the screaming fights in which neither seemed to care enough to remember to use a silencing or privacy charm, or the times she pushed Daphne off to focus on something else. Mother had gotten better over the years, had especially become more present where Astoria was concerned, but Daphne didn't want to dump this on her yet.

Focus on something else, she thought before going back to write. Thinking of mother at least brought her to family and she wrote next on the pros list: getting to be an aunt to Astoria and Draco's potential children. Tori had always wanted children and had told Daphne that Draco would like to be a father someday as well. Daphne closed her mind and pictured children alternately with dark and blond hair, blue or grey eyes or a combination, all all would hopefully take more after Astoria in terms of personality. Her mouth curved into a small smile at that thought.

That led almost directly into the next pro: getting to be there for my friends and their life events. Promotions, marriages, children, whatever they wanted. Ron and Pansy were going strong, and happy with their careers, as were Hermione and Theo. Tracey was very happy with her photography and Milicent was happy with her own job in Germany, and had even met a wizard there. She and Blaise were no longer the closest, save for their flings, but she wished him well.

And then there was Harry and Ginny. They were the storybook couple, war heroes and talented in their respective fields. Everyone had thought they'd end up together and now they were back on track to do just that. Daphne coughed shortly, but luckily it wasn't the fit that brought up flower petals. Without her memories, she would at least be able to see them and not feel empty inside.

She coughed again as she finally set to work on the cons side of things. There was actually only one con, but it weighed heavily: losing my memories of Harry and loving him. This should have been easy; she'd always thought why just let yourself die when you could just erase everything of the other person? But then she would think of things like lunches with Harry, spending time in muggle London, long conversations, the way he was there for her after father's death. What would it be like to see him and no longer remember how much he'd come to mean to her over the last two years?

The coughing hit her again, hard, and she coughed up three more flower petals onto the desk. Her chest and throat ached as she wordlessly vanished the red petals. Everything is so fucked up, she thought miserably. Slowly, she put away the list, the quill and ink, but stayed sitting down. It was getting closer to dinner, but she had no appetite nor any desire to get up.

Daphne just felt tired right now.

She wished she knew what the right thing to do was, but she had no idea and no one she felt comfortable asking. Her friends and family couldn't know yet. There was the healer from St. Mungo's but he would most likely strongly recommend she chose the removal. She supposed she could try a mind healer but something inside her recoiled from the thought. A voice that sounded an awful lot like her father's chided her for wanting to run to a stranger and complain about her problems to them.

Weak.

Growing up meant recognizing that certain things her parents, especially her father, had taught her had been bullshite. Her family was not inherently superior to other wizards and witches or muggles just because they were an old family. That was something she had long stopped believing. However, there was one that she still struggled with, and that was: emotions were a weakness. It was unhealthy and irrational, she knew both of those things, but it was something so instilled in her that it was practically just part of her now.

So the mind-healer was out.

Daphne would have to figure this out on her own. She just wished she had a better idea of how she could do that. The pros and cons list hadn't been as helpful as she hoped, but it had at least helped her to gather her thoughts, so writing could be a way to deal with her feelings. But she still needed to make a decision, particularly now that she was on week three of this disease. Some people could live for a year without treatment, but she still believed she would follow the family life expectancy of three to four months. The symptoms would only be getting worse from there, but she could most likely hide them from everyone else in her life for another week or two. That would have to be long enough for her to make a decision.

However, it would turn out that she would be found out after a week.

And it was by the second worst person that she could imagine doing so.

I love you. I'm sorry for how things turned out, but I'm not sorry about that. Don't let yourself feel bad about it; you didn't make me love you.

I could say a lot of things here, but there's only one thing I want to tell you: Be happy, Harry.

Daphne put down the quill and stared down at the words on the page. It was shorter than she originally wanted to write, but it was the first version of the letter she'd written that didn't automatically make her want to erase every sentence.

"It'll work," she finally said as she folded the letter and put it in an envelope. She then proceeded to lock it in her desk, where it would remain until she decided if it was something better off burned than given to him.

Daphne had thought she'd gotten through the next week as well as she possibly could have. The Department of Mysteries was always busy with something, so she was able to keep almost all thoughts of her illness in the back of her mind as she focused on her work. This also meant she had an excuse to not go to lunch with the other three, and Hermione and Harry didn't catch on as their departments were also busy at the moment. Her cough had become more persistent, but the coughing fits that brought up petals were less often. It was still hideable, though she caught Theo frowning at her more than once and Hermione had given her some suggestions for cough remedies when she bumped into her one morning in the cafeteria.

She was taking honey in her tea now to help with her throat.

On Wednesday afternoon, she did have to lock herself into a stall in one of the loos as she coughed up at least five petals. Five minutes before that she had passed by Harry and Ginny in the atrium, on their way out to lunch. "Hey Daphne," said Ginny, and Daphne had to make an effort to look at Ginny's face and not the arm she had interlocked with Harry's. "How've you been?" The red headed witch's smile was bright as she spoke to Daphne.

This would be so much easier if she could actually hate Ginny.

"I'm alright, thanks. Good luck against the Falcons," she said as she left. She was not able to leave quickly enough to miss the content way Harry had smiled down at Ginny as he nudged her towards the exit. She was grateful that the lift was empty as she'd started coughing as soon as the doors shut, and was even more grateful that no one was in the loo to hear her hacking up flowers.

Aside from that one incident, the week had gone well until her dinner with Astoria on Friday night. The only way it could have been worse was if it had happened at a restaurant rather than her own home, but she'd convinced Astoria to just bring take-in to her home. Her sister had been in the middle of excitedly explaining the work she'd done to try and improve on a blood-replenishing potion when a coughing spasm suddenly hit her. It happened too quickly for her to excuse herself from the table and it felt like it went on forever.

"Daphne?"

Her chest ached as she felt something bigger than just scattered petals move up to the back of her throat. Her entire body shook as a now familiar panic filled her, as she struggled to breathe, struggling to not gag. Distantly, she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, but she couldn't focus on that as she finally coughed up a red flower.

There was no stem or thorns, but it was unmistakably a flower. The first part should have been a relief, but the lack of thorns felt more like a promise that the worse had yet to come. There was silence in the kitchen as both she and her sister stared at the carnation - she thought it was a carnation anyway, and would be proved right on that later - until Daphne grabbed her wand and non-verbally vanished it.

The arm around her pulled back and her sister stepped to the side, but didn't go back to her own chair. Daphne refused to look up until Tori said, hesitantly, "Daph?" She forced herself to look at her sister. Astoria's expression was some mixture of sympathy and horror and her blue eyes stared at her sadly. There was only one thing coughing up a flower meant, and Astoria knew that as well as her. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything-?"

"Water," she croaked and instantly regretted it as her throat ached. Astoria had her wand out instantly and within seconds was handing her a glass of water. Daphne drank it slowly while her sister stayed standing next to her in case she needed anything else.

"I'm okay now," she said, voice hoarse. Her throat itself was still sore, but the water had helped. Instead of going back to her original spot, Astoria summoned the chair over and sat down next to her.

Her sister was quiet for another moment before she finally asked: "Is it Harry?"

First Pansy, and now Astoria. Her brow creased as she asked, "How did you know?"

"Draco told me first-"

Daphne groaned, and this time it had nothing gif do with pain. "Draco knows?!" It was one thing for Pansy, who'd been her first real friend when they were kids, to have guessed but how the hell had Draco figured it out?

"It was when father died," Astoria said quietly. "Draco said you looked like you'd been crying when he arrived so he assumed you were alone. And then Harry walked in."

She stared incredulously at her sister. "You said it yourself: father had just died. I was allowed to cry."

"But you hate breaking down in front of people, everyone knows that. When things got really bad at Hogwarts with the Carrows, you pushed Blaise away when he tried to comfort you. And that was after knowing him for seven years and dating him for at least three months."

Daphne frowned deeply, but said nothing. Tori took a breath before continuing, "But I still wasn't sure at first so I tried to pay more attention to you. I noticed the way you just watched him sometimes when he wasn't looking. You'd smile when you'd say his name. It was little things like that." Daphne's face felt very warm and Astoria gave her a sad smile. "If it makes you feel better, I think it was only easy for me to see because I know you so well." Astoria opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something else and then closed it.

"Just say it, Tori," she sighed out.

"Have you told him?"

"No," she answered.

Astoria bit her lip, and Daphne knew what she was getting at before she even spoke again. There were only three possible ends to Hanahaki disease: 1) death; 2) having the flowers removed; 3) the flowers disappearing because your hopeless one-sided love wasn't so hopeless after all. "Maybe he would…"

"Astoria, less than three percent of all cases of Hanahaki have been cured because of true love. The odds are not in my favor here. And he loves Ginny." Daphne's right hand clenched into a fist as she felt a scratching at her throat.

There was another silence.

Tori broke it first. "Alright. So when are you getting the removal done?"

Daphne picked up the now empty water glass.

"Daph?"

"I think I want something stronger." She stood up from the table and walked over to the liquor cabinet. "Do you want a drink too?" she asked without turning around.

"Daph," Tori repeated. Daphne heard the chair scrape against the floor and then the sound of footsteps. Her sister didn't stop until she was standing right next to her, forcing her to look at her. "You've scheduled the removal right?"

"No."

"What are you waiting for?" Tori asked and then froze. "You're not actually considering forgoing treatment."

Yes. No.

Maybe.

Daphne arched an eyebrow. "Didn't you used to say that's what you'd do if you caught it? That it was so romantic?"

Astoria glared at her. "I was twelve," she hissed. "I grew up-"

"So, if Draco stopped loving you-"

Astoria looked as if she wanted to shake Daphne."That is not fair! Draco is my husband. We have a relationship. It would be different-"

"That's not an answer-"

"What about you? You thought letting yourself die from Hanahaki was moronic when-"

"I grew up," Daphne shot back. "I've realized this doesn't have any easy answer. Of course I don't want to die, but the thought of losing every feeling or memory of him...I don't know, Tori, alright?!"

"So that's it? You're just going to give up because some bloke you're not even in a relationship with doesn't return your feelings?! What about your job? Or your friends? Maman? Or m-" Astoria cut herself off at the last second, but the unsaid word hung between them.

Daphne had no idea what to say as Tori turned deeply pained blue eyes on her. "Daphne, please," she pleaded, her eyes starting to water. "Don't do this." The tears were now falling down her face freely.

Astoria was an adult. She had a career and a husband and her own house, but that didn't matter when the tears started. As soon as Daphne saw that, her instinctive reaction was: Your little sister is crying. Make it stop. It was hardwired into her, but this time Daphne had no idea what she could say to make this better. "Astoria," she started, before stopping. Instead, she moved as if to hug her sister but Tori stepped back, away from her.

"Not now," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I can't….I need to go."

Daphne didn't try to stop her as Astoria walked out of the room. "I'm sorry," she said softly as she heard the slam of the front door. She opened the cabinet, took out and poured the fire whiskey, and then knocked it back. The whiskey burned at her sensitive throat, but she didn't mind the pain at the moment.

Astoria had been one of the people she most dreaded telling, and now that it was over she felt lighter. She sat back down and poured herself another glass of fire whiskey. The memory of her mother doing something similar after father stormed out of the house one night at dinner came to her then and she smiled bitterly. Perhaps she and mother had more in common than she first thought.

She downed another drink in silence.

Daphne was ready to admit what she wanted to do, but would she be able to?

She had no choice but to find out.

Notes: So I wrote and rewrote this chapter multiple times. The most unchanged part was the beginning with Daphne running into Pansy at St. Mungo's.

I am interested in seeing what decision Daphne came to at the end.

For anyone interested, there is a fund Harry/Daphne discord: discord. gg / pKSdvJQvhU