Posted 4/28/2014, edited 4/28/2014

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This is a work of fiction, based on the book series by J.K. Rowling. Neither do I claim ownership nor do I intend to.


Chapter Thirty-Four - The Issue of Trust

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The days following the news about Potter's relatives had been dominated by a strange mood even Daphne in her seclusion from the other inhabitants had become aware of. On the first evening, he had been oddly joyful considering he had lost the last of his family. Potter had occasionally hummed during dinner and had joked with a rather reluctant Weasley. The redhead had spent that evening nervously eyeing both of his friends –Potter, because his behaviour wasn't really appropriate, and Granger, because she knew it and was constantly on the verge of telling him off. The girl had in fact glared quite a bit, but had never said anything. Daphne had found their behaviour strange, but figured there was some reason for the lack of decorum among the friends.

The days after that, Weasley had kept to himself most of the time, which Daphne had found strange as well. She figured he regretted his actions and jokes, perhaps the reality had sunken in at last. From his behaviour, she guessed he had met Potter's relatives and had found them to be unpleasant for some reason. Was it odd that Daphne couldn't remember ever hearing anything about them? She couldn't recall anyone ever speaking about them before. Well, apart from the rumour of rich and powerful supporters of Dumbledore taking him in, but Daphne seriously doubted that. Had Potter's family been at the wedding? As far as she knew, they hadn't been there, despite even distant family of hers showing up. Then again, since they were apparently Muggles, Potter had probably deemed it better to not invite them in the first place.

Granger had communicated mostly with glares and pointed silence, but both of her friends seemed to have understood her well enough. Even without knowing the other girl that well, Daphne still had been able to pick up the Muggleborns mood. It had bothered the girl that she couldn't bring herself to scold the boys about their disrespectful behaviour about Potter's relatives' deaths. A small part probably also felt reminded of her family's troubles. The isolation of the house had gotten to all of the inhabitants one way or another, but Granger seemed to have been hit with a bad case of homesickness. True, she had worked quite a bit around the house, and it had improved the atmosphere slightly, but the air of death still remained.

Potter's mood had been difficult to read for Daphne. He had been somewhat happy about the deaths at first, yes, which could be considered abnormal in its own right. But with each passing day, he had lost more passion, more life, in some way, and returned to his glum mood. It seemed to Daphne as if he had begun retreating into his own world, and she knew even less what he was doing with his days than before. It was mainly his doing that the strange atmosphere had descended upon the house, she guessed. She couldn't quite grasp it, she didn't know what was happening, but she had a feeling something was building up. The closest comparison she had come up with was the moment before a downpour. The air was heavy, the people quiet and cautious. During the rare moments each day when Daphne met anyone of the inhabitants during mealtime or the chance meeting in the corridors only the minimum of talk took place.

She didn't mind it, really. So what if they kept to themselves? It didn't affect her, did it? And if they did keep to themselves, all the better in her opinion. If they did, then they wouldn't interfere with her business. Wasn't she doing the same?

She had tried to remember any spell she could think of, anything she considered important for the confrontation. And she was no fool. If she wanted to get her revenge, she needed to be prepared. Malfoy had already felt her fury, he wouldn't underestimate her again. To her dismay, Daphne had discovered that her biggest problem would probably not be the actual spellwork, but speed and accuracy. She had worked on target practice, but somehow, even the weaker spells had a tendency to miss. In fact, she had begun feeling a growing irritation for that reason. Day in, day out she worked on herself, but she had the impression her skills only deteriorated. With little difference between the days, they had started to blend together into some never-ending twilit day stuck in a gloomy house she still didn't know the location of without any form of excitement taking place. The most interesting would have had to have been the visit from Mr. Lupin on the fourth day after the news about Potter's family's demise had arrived. Had it been a Wednesday? It had felt more like a Saturday, but Daphne had lost track of time anyway.

When she had walked into the kitchen, she had found the werewolf there. He joined them for breakfast that day. Part of Daphne had been surprised he had eaten like a human would. Maybe it had been the stories she had heard in her childhood about the savage beasts, but when she thought of a werewolf eating, she couldn't get rid of the image of a hunched monster feasting on the innocent prey, preferably a human. Yet Mr. Lupin had sat at the table and had used a knife like a normal human would have, just like he had done during his time as a teacher at Hogwarts. Maybe the stories held even less truth than the Daily Prophet or that rag from the Lovegoods?

That same day and meal had also seen a rather odd deviation from the routine around the house, though. Granger hadn't eaten much –in fact, Daphne wasn't even sure the girl had eaten anything –and Weasley and Mr. Lupin had spent more time glancing nervously at the Muggleborn than their food. Potter had been more withdrawn than ever before, as if he had been separated by the world by a veil or wall.

Mr. Lupin had left shortly after the meal, exchanging only short words with his students and Daphne. Granger had retreated with both of her friends following her. Only after Daphne had overheard Potter and Weasley say something about Mr. Lupin having let something slip accidentally about Granger's mother leaving the country with another man had Daphne understood.

The next two days had gone in much the same way the rest had gone. Routine had settled. Weasley and Granger had spent their time reading and training by themselves, Potter had been difficult to find and altogether quiet.

On the third day after the visit of Mr. Lupin – either a Saturday or a Tuesday, though Daphne also couldn't truly rule out a Monday, for the weather made her think of it as one – Daphne had spent most of the morning unsuccessfully trying a new approach to solve her problem with her training. Her initial idea had been to alter her stance, but instead of an improvement, she had only found her fears to be confirmed and her performance deteriorating. Had the attack by Malfoy somehow caused this decline in skill? Maybe the torture had messed with her eye-hand coordination. Or maybe the house and its atmosphere were the reason? She didn't know, but she had a hard time fighting down her frustration.

After washing up a bit to clear her head, she made to return to her room when she heard voices from the ground floor. Potter and his friends, no doubt locked in some talk about some issue around the house, she reasoned. Yet, she sneaked downstairs, curiosity getting the better of her.

They were in the dirty dining room. Daphne sneaked closer, listening intently.

"I don't know, Harry," Granger was saying. "Don't get me wrong, I agree with you on principle, but..." She stopped, as if to consider how to phrase whatever worried her about whatever they were discussing. Daphne bent to listen at the keyhole.

"It's tricky," Weasley put in. "A month ago, when I was all 'Let's do it!', you said no, and you were right, I guess. Do something, you say. Well, we are, aren't we? You train, you learn as much as you can. Hermione and I, we're not exactly loafing around either. Sitting around is bloody annoying, but... but isn't that what we should do? Getting ready and keeping our heads down? Not drawing attention to us? Not taking risks?"

"This is different, though." Potter sounded calm. "Something needs to be done. We're cut off from the world as it is. We're just hiding here, doing nothing but stare at the walls and drive ourselves nuts."

"We are..." Weasley interrupted, but Potter had to have given him some sign, for he broke off.

"You know what I meant," Potter said with a tired voice. "Learning, training, that's fine, but it doesn't change anything right now. We don't need to do anything big, really, but... Look, the others are doing something, at least. Neville's trying to raise awareness. Ginny's keeping the Malfoys and their ilk on their toes. Luna is... well, I don't want to know what she's coming up with next, but whatever it is, it'll be a pain for the Death Eaters and their allies. Ron, your family is very active, smuggling people out of the country. Lupin, he's keeping an eye on things; Tonks, Moody, they are rallying forces. Yet here we are, sitting around and contributing nothing worthwhile, and we only hear about all of that through the rumours drifting in. Even something small might..." He stopped, sighing.

"We're sitting here, not risking capture," Granger corrected. "We're doing something important, Harry. Our friends are buying us the time we need, it'd be a bad service to risk the long-term success for short-sighted impulses."

"Yeah," Weasley added. "Look, I want to go out there and do something as well, I get that."

"You heard what Lupin said," Potter started.

"Did you?" Granger spoke up. "This is not the time for childish rebellion. We're not at Hogwarts, and we don't have a secret ally to keep us safe from harm. We're no longer children. We have to see the bigger picture here."

"Malfoy is there," Potter pointed out. "That's not safe from harm if what he did to Greengrass is any indication."

"Professor Snape's got it under control," Granger said. Daphne fought back a laugh. If Professor Snape had Malfoy under control, then she was a dancing albino elephant. Then again, she could hear the trap waiting to be sprung.

"Control," Potter dead-panned. "Yeah, not really. He's got no one who openly opposes him, but... Snape's headmaster. He's looking out for his students – all of them, including Malfoy. Punish Malfoy and risk exposure? No, Snape didn't do that in the past, he won't do it now."

"Because he knows what's important, Harry. Catching Malfoy isn't Professor Snape's top priority, seeing our side win is," Granger pointed out. "Either way, you've got both the Ministry and the Death Eaters after you. They're also looking for us. This is not something to take lightly. Help with the war? Fine by me. That's what we're doing already. It takes time, yes, and it's not easy waiting for the right time, but you don't even know what you want to do."

Daphne pursed her lips in thought. So Potter wanted to take part in the ongoing war? Well, it didn't affect her all that much, and the less she got involved, the less likely they would take her down with them. She was about to stand up straight when she heard a snap of fingers behind her. Whirling around, she found the elf standing there. She didn't have to ask what he had done as behind her the door swung open, causing gasps from Potter and his friends.

"Nosing, she was," Kreacher grumbled, suppressing something of a sing-song. "Spied in the house, shouldn't do that."

"You're right, Kreacher," Potter spoke up. "Take care of lunch, will you?"

The elf bowed jerkily and popped away. Schooling her features to hide the scowl threatening to show, Daphne turned around to face the others.

"Nice of you to join us," Potter said, his voice soft. He looked tired, but alert. "Please come in."

She did as she was told, but her hand instinctively went to her wand. She hadn't forgotten the last time someone asked her for a talk.

"We hadn't expected you to come," he told her. "Anything you would like to add to our thoughts? Anything you want to share, perhaps?"

"No," she said, keeping her back to the wall and staying close to the door. She hadn't done anything forbidden, but she also wasn't foolish enough to give up such a position when faced by three others. Hadn't she learned that she needn't have done anything to suffer?

Potter nodded slowly. "Do you have topics of your own you would like to discuss? Something has to have brought you out of your room and to us, making you listen at the door, so what is it?" She wasn't sure, but she thought there was something else hidden under his calm.

"Spying on us, weren't you?" Weasley grumbled. "Eavesdropping on us. Figures."

"I didn't eavesdrop on you. It's not my fault if you talk loud enough to hear you," Daphne replied, barely keeping from rolling her eyes.

Granger pursed her lips, but kept silent.

Potter on the other hand raised an eyebrow. "And yet you were standing in front of that door. You lingered to listen in, didn't you? That is more than just hearing us talk. It does sound more like eavesdropping."

"Still not my fault if you forget to ward the room. If you don't want people to hear, you should make sure they can't. I know you can," she pointed out.

"So you aren't denying it?" Potter asked. "That saves us some time, I guess."

"I didn't do anything wrong. I have nothing to deny," Daphne told them resolutely. "Now if you'll excuse me..."

"I bet she's done it before," Weasley spat. "She's spying on us, Harry. Can you trust her? Can we risk that? What if she's working for them?" He sent his friend a meaningful glance, likely reminding him of their suspicions about her.

Daphne sent the redhead a withering glare. "I'm not spying on you; is it my fault if you are too stupid to keep your talks private?" Realising her mistake, she added, "Don't blame me for your oversights. Spying on you, as if! And as for working for them? After everything Malfoy did, do you honestly think I'd side with him?" Potter narrowed his eyes slightly, and she continued, "Oh, please, you don't really listen to what Weasley thinks, do you?"

Potter nodded slowly. "You are right," he said, keeping his eyes on Daphne. "I agree with you. She might have done it in the past as well, but we cannot be sure about it." He sighed. "We've been careless, but it doesn't matter."

"I haven't been spying on you," Daphne protested, clinging to the notion of merely overhearing them talk.

"But we cannot risk it, especially just based on your word," Potter replied. "We should have been more careful, yes. I felt safe within my own house, true. It was a mistake we'll have to avoid in the future," he told his friends with a nod. "This just leaves us with the past. Ron is right; I cannot allow myself to trust you based on your declaration from your first evening alone. It's not enough, I'm afraid."

"You've got to be joking," Daphne sighed, trying not to look as if he had a point. "We're allies, aren't we? That's why you're letting me stay here in the first place. Why would I work with your enemies? Or for that matter, why would they work with me? And ignoring both of that, what would I tell them? 'Potter and his friends are hiding in some house somewhere in a city, arguing about what to do, where to buy their food, what colour to paint the drawing room'?"

"You may not want to work with Malfoy, but you might still be willing to save your own skin and sacrifice us to get to him. Or you might be coerced into working against us. There are ways to force you to relay anything you might learn. Some of those ways would make you unable to remember you'd do it at all, making you an unwitting pawn in their game. Whether you'd have relevant information or not is not important. You could be a mole. Now, we do have an alliance, true."

"One you accepted," Daphne reminded him quickly, ignoring his other comment.

"You made it pretty clear our alliance does not include sharing information, though. You refused to tell us about what happened with Malfoy, which makes me think you don't trust us."

"You don't need to know about him," Daphne returned. "Whatever happened between him and me is not your business."

"And whatever we discuss without you isn't your business. You made not sharing information part of the arrangement. I had assumed you would have integrated yourself by now and would have opened up, perhaps sharing a bit about yourself to judge you on, but I was mistaken. Now we have to judge you on what we know about you, which includes you eavesdropping on us. So how are we supposed to trust you if you don't trust us? Ron has a point, I fear. Without proof or anyone vouching for you, it's a risk. And neither oath nor contract will work. They are too easy to twist their meaning of or accidentally break. What if you delude yourself into thinking the best for us is to be handed over to the Death Eaters? What if we decide to sacrifice you for our goals? Right now, you're an unknown. You could be a private person or you could be a mole, perhaps even without knowing it."

"Harry," Granger spoke up, "what would Dumbledore do? He would trust her – believe in the good of people. He's done so, and it didn't really cause problems. His judgement hasn't been wrong, he knew whom to trust."

"He's dead, Hermione," Potter countered, but with a slight edge in his voice. "And he isn't part of this war; he died before the lines were redrawn. We don't have the same luxuries he had. He also made mistakes in his judgement; he just didn't always have to face the consequences. He condemned Sirius, for one. Also don't forget how willing he was to give second chances. He trusted people to come to the right choice eventually, not immediately. I don't doubt Dumbledore would have trusted her. But can we risk it, Hermione? Keep in mind what is happening right now. Keep in mind what Lupin said. Do we have the luxury to simply believe in the good of people? We don't have that many lives to gamble with."

"This is ridiculous," Daphne told them. "I'm not a spy. Don't forget, it was you who brought me here in the first place, and unless I'm mistaken, I wasn't in the best of shapes, was I?"

"Roughing up a spy to make the story believable or to plant a spy in the first place is not that unreasonable," Potter pointed out. Daphne was close to cursing him just for considering the possibility. Was he really that paranoid to believe that? Granted, it made sense, but if it made sense to her, what did that mean about him?

"How about a compromise? Give us something in return," Granger told her. "So you have been listening in to at least one of our talks. We have reason to believe you may have overheard more. Give us something in return, something so we can trust you. Something of a trade, we let you in on some of our secrets, and you open up to us. Or perhaps see it as reparation – you listened in on our talks, you give us something in return. We're not your enemies, Greengrass."

Potter nodded slowly. "That could work. We can't trust you at the moment, not like this, not with you hiding from us. There is simply far too much at stake here. I... we've given you time to get accustomed to life around here, but you just keep to yourself. You're keeping your secrets, and it's making it hard to know where you stand. All we have is your word that you really are our ally. Yes, I guess Hermione's compromise could work. Better than nothing, at least, and a step forward."

Daphne laughed humourlessly. "What? I have to reveal my secrets as punishment for your oversight? You want me to share? To tell you about me? That's rich coming from you, hiding all the time, interrogating me just now, and all because of your paranoia. My secrets are my own, Potter, and they will stay that way. My life is my own as well." She sent every occupant a look. "I don't feel like sharing anything with you."

"It doesn't have to be anything big," Granger tried. "You could tell us what happened with Malfoy, it's..."

"No," Daphne interrupted resolutely. "That is none of your business. You keep out of that, Granger; that's between him and me. I've already said I will deal with him, that I have a score to settle with him. I meant that. You don't need to know any more. Now if you'll excuse me..."

She made to turn and leave, but Potter's sigh and defeated look made her stop in her movement. Although she hadn't seen it, he had to have swished his wand - the door closed behind her. Instinctively, Daphne pulled her wand. At the same moment, Weasley jumped to his feet, wand pointed at her.

"What do you think you're doing, Greengrass? Wand down!" To his friends, he said, "What do we do with her? She spied on us, I know she did, and you do too. She basically admitted it, and she's trying to weasel out of it."

"So it is plan B, then," Potter said, saddened by the development. "What to do, what to do? We shouldn't just let you leave with that knowledge."

"So you'll lock me up?" Daphne spat. Her wand tingled, ready for a fight. She should have known they wouldn't treat her with respect. She should have known she wouldn't be safe around them.

Weasley threw her a nasty glare and took a step towards her. Could she take him? Perhaps, she thought, as long as she acted fast. If it had been just Weasley, she would have had a good chance, but what about the other two?

"Well, no," Potter admitted, narrowing his eyes. "Not restricting your movement, no. Hermione, think you could... ?"

Granger glanced at him. If she hadn't known better, Daphne would have thought they were of the same mind, but only a moment later, the Muggleborn looked away and shook her head.

"I'm not sure I can manage it." With a sigh, she added, "And I hate it, Harry, I really hate it. Can't we do something else? There has to be something we can do instead."

"What, lock her up and guard her? Risk it, unsure of just what she might have heard? I was fine with her when I didn't know she was actively spying on us. Now something needs to be done. I didn't say I like it, but... You're the only one who looked into it here. Make sure you look for all the evidence," Potter told her, "or else you might miss something later on." To Daphne, he said, "Don't worry; we'll just take what you shouldn't have heard in the first place. Doesn't hurt or anything."

Daphne glanced between Granger, who looked away as if steeling herself for something, and Potter, who looked reluctant. Daphne didn't understand everything they were talking about, but she understood enough. Taking what she shouldn't have heard could only mean obliviating her.

Gripping her wand harder, she glanced around the room. Weasley stood to the side, but he wasn't really a threat. She could take him, no doubt. Potter and Granger might cause more trouble, but all she needed to do was escape, not defeat them, right? For she would not let herself be obliviated by them. If necessary, if she couldn't talk them out of it, she would have to fight them.

"That's a stupid plan," she tried, recalling the first curse she wanted to fling at them. "I don't know anything. You'll punish me because you are idiots? You want to mess with my head, just so I cannot pass something on I don't know about in the first place? That's your solution?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of taking the memories you shouldn't have anyway, Greengrass," Potter pointed out. "I may not like it, but wizards do it a lot to keep their secrets."

Daphne felt her muscles tense. "State secrets, and not to witches or wizards. And so what? I'm expected to give up my secrets to calm your stupid paranoia?" She ignored the hypocrisy of the statement, she continued, "Lay bare my private business for you to go through just because, but you get to keep all of your secrets? Bollocks! What kind of alliance is this supposed to be? I already told you what you need to know; I want my revenge, what more could you possibly want? What makes you so much better than me, huh? Want to destroy my mind, just to keep your little games secret? I'm supposed to give something to make you trust me? Why should I trust you? Why should I trust you when you are willing to mess with my mind out of ill-advised fear? You asked a brilliant question, Granger. What would Dumbledore say about this plan of yours?"

"He was big on keeping secrets," Potter replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "And he also didn't mind the occasional trick to get what he wanted, even if it meant a gamble with someone else's life. For the Greater Good, of course," he added with a hint of bitterness.

"And did he ever make you earn his trust?" Daphne tried. She knew enough about the late headmaster to guess the answer.

Potter pursed his lips in distaste and countered, "We never kept secrets from him longer than necessary. And we're wasting time here with What Ifs. It's not like we have much choice, really, since you refused the compromise and don't want to share with us. Hermione?"

The Muggleborn paled slightly and leaned back a bit. "Harry, I... Do you think...? Don't you think it would be better to...?"

"Don't listen to her," he told her, "we need to make sure our secrets are safe. You were all for staying safe earlier instead of taking a risk. What happened? I trust you; I know you will be careful." After a moment, he added, "Please."

"Harry, that..." Granger wrung her hands. "I mean, I don't think we should... it's not like she... It's not the same, not doing something dangerous and doing something to avert a potential danger we're not even sure exists in the first place. It's not the only option, either. I'm sure we could think of something."

Weasley cleared his throat. "Err, Harry, I'm not exactly Greengrass' greatest supporter, but maybe we should just... I don't know..."

"Not you too," Potter growled. "You were the one who doubted her only moments ago; you asked what we should do with her."

"Well, I meant," Weasley shrugged slightly, "interrogate or something. Make her tell us, not, you know... There are still rules, see? And shouldn't we follow them?"

"Hypocrite," Daphne told Potter. She had spoken softly, not even raising her voice, but it had still rung out through the room, stunning the others into silence. Anger was rising in her, and she couldn't stop herself from lashing out. "So your secrets are worth killing someone for, but I have to reveal mine?" She didn't mind what she had let slip.

"Killing?" Granger repeated, shocked.

Daphne continued, fury coursing through her. "They're worth the same, Potter, don't think you are something special. The world doesn't revolve around you; you are just as unimportant as everyone else. Do you honestly think I care about what you discuss with your friends? Your secrets are worth squat, I doubt the Dark Lord would ever bother with them, and yet you are willing to kill me for them."

"No one said killing!" Weasley yelled, unable to comprehend what she was talking about. Granger stumbled back further at the accusation. Had she really thought this would go over smoothly? That Daphne would just let them toy with her mind? Just what did they think they would do?

"No," Daphne spat, ignoring the interruption, "not even that, really. You have your minion do it. Too cowardly to sully your own hands?" Granger staggered as if hit. Grim satisfaction rose in Daphne, knowing she had gotten to one of them at least. "Why should I give in? Why should I lay bare all my private business to you?"

"Well," Potter spoke up, raising an eyebrow, "in a way, we did save your life. A little something in return..."

"So what?" Daphne spat, trying to ignore he did have a point. "You supposedly saved my life so now you'll decide over my fate? And I'll have to help you with your stupid war, is that it?"

"That would be nice of you, yeah," Potter tried with a smile.

"Well," Daphne mocked, "that's a death sentence, in case you haven't realized yet. So to repay you, I'm supposed to get myself killed. I'm not your pawn to do with as you please. Think you'll play war, do you? Think you are a man, Potter? A hero, saving the world around you? Because you certainly don't look like that, standing around doing nothing. Empty words, powerless child, ridiculous dreams of bravery. No," Daphne said, relishing the moment and sneering, "you are nothing, nothing but a silly little boy. Face it, you are pathetic, hiding here and sending others to die in your place. But I can understand why you're in here, you know?" She sent him a cold look. "No matter what you know or do or try, no matter what you may hope for or how hard you wish for it, you won't change a thing in this world. Hasn't anyone taught you that?" she asked, bitterness seeping into her voice. Didn't she know just how true those words were? For a moment, Daphne thought of her cousin Ophelia, smiling up from the photo tucked away in Daphne's trunk.

Potter watched her with pursed lips, but he didn't react to her accusations. His eyes seemed to stare right into her, almost as if he could understand her just by that look, and she wished she hadn't said anything. He didn't lash out, but there was something very unsettling about his contemplating look.

Daphne felt herself reminded of the escape in August. He had known just what to do back then. He had made up a plan on the fly and had managed to get them to safety without any serious injury. She had gotten a glimpse at what was hidden underneath his skin, hadn't she? He had understood his adversary even without coming face to face and had predicted his movement.

Did Potter understand her as well? Did he understand her actions? Did he know about her? The thought alone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her muscles tense as the blood pounded in her ears. Every part of her body screamed for her to do something, but she forced herself not to make any sudden movement. Don't act, she told herself. Don't let things escalate any further. She was fine, she was free, she was still armed. She needed to keep her calm, she needed to talk her way out of it. Potter was just paranoid, nothing more. Didn't she know how that felt? They hadn't acted yet. She couldn't allow her fears to control her. And Potter was probably just trying to unnerve her, no ill intent behind his actions.

Weasley shifted slightly, but she didn't pay him much attention. He was not important. Slow even, if what she knew of Potter and his friends was true. He was a follower, and whatever Potter decided, Weasley would accept it.

Granger looked uneasily between Daphne and Potter, but finally settled on staring at Daphne as well as her mind probably tried to figure Daphne out. Did the Muggleborn girl somehow understand more than she should? She didn't look like it. She didn't have those eyes. She didn't have that air about her.

Potter tilted his head slightly, ready to pass judgement, it seemed. With a content smile on his face, he looked disturbingly calm and distant from the world around him, almost as if he had left the petty little worries and his sanity behind. His smile tipped the scales; Daphne's mind went blank as fear took over – her breath hitched, and in the same moment, she twitched, almost jumping back instinctively. Her trusted partner reacted to her inner turmoil – a spell shot from her wand and passed a foot from Potter's head.

Granger acted; ropes wrapped themselves around Daphne from head to toe. Weasley's wand twitched, and Daphne's partner was torn from her hand. Weasley shouted, but she didn't register the words as she slowly forced her images back. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down, she repeated in her head. Breathe in, breathe out. One step after the other. Remember where you are.

Potter narrowed his eyes, but showed no other reaction other than the hard look he sent Daphne. "Hermione?" he said, "A word, please?" He stood up, walking to the door.

Daphne watched as Granger came to life and ran after her friend. Potter hadn't lashed out, hadn't even yelled, Daphne realized, slowly calming down. A beast, a lion, yes, that was a comparison for Potter she could think of that the moment. But he hadn't attacked so far. Shadows on the wall, nothing more. A trick of light. Breathe in, breathe out. Don't lose your head. Breathe in, breathe out. There's only Weasley in the room, she told herself, and she knew where he was. Calm down, Daphne thought, as bit by bit she regained control of herself.

Before she could make up her mind, she felt an invisible force tucking at her. She swayed and fell, but never hit the floor. Instead, she was lifted into the air and dropped on the table.

"Let's wait," Weasley said, sounding tired and defeated.

She refused to acknowledge her worsened situation. Weasley had had no ill intent, Daphne told herself. It was all just a big misunderstanding, and none of them were intentionally needling her. She glanced towards the boy, thinking about ways to escape him. He stared at the door. So he wasn't paying her any attention? He would have to pay for that, but how? Without her wand, she was hardly a challenge for him. Perhaps she could have the house-elf help her? She was still his mistress, in a way. She could order the elf to knock Weasley out... no, wait, attacking a wizard? Elves weren't allowed to do that, and the redhead still had a wand. But if she got him to leave, then she could have the elf remove the ropes. He was allowed to do that, wasn't he?

"You shouldn't have done that," Weasley spoke. His eyes were still on the door, and he looked troubled.

"I kind of figured that, yes," Daphne replied, trying to keep her voice calm. If she wanted to trick him, she couldn't show him any signs of weakness. "But that doesn't make any difference, does it?"

"You shouldn't have done that," Weasley repeated and, sinking into a chair, rubbed his eyes. "Neither should we have, I guess," he admitted. "Wasn't smart, right? Got out of hand." He sighed, shaking his head.

"Shouldn't you be out there, trying to...? I don't know, protect Granger or help her or something?" Daphne tried.

Weasley chuckled. "Protect her? From what? The Death Eaters won't come in here, and even if they did..." He shook his head once more.

"From Potter, I meant," Daphne clarified. "He seemed... off. Highly paranoid."

"Thanks to you, yes," Weasley said. "Sneaking around and eavesdropping. That wasn't very smart of you, not after we... he took you in."

"Be that as it may, you can't tell me that was normal for him, was it? Who's to know what will happen?"

"I know him," Weasley spoke. "He knows us. He'd rather die than let any harm come to Hermione. Or me. No, they're coming up with something brilliant, I guess. It's what they do. It's what they're good at."

Daphne pursed her lips. Dim as he was, Weasley sounded convinced beyond a doubt. So she needed some other way to get rid of him. Luckily, she knew the rumours about Potter and his friends. "So the two of them are close, then?" She let the question sink in for a moment. "While you are in here, keeping watch over me, they make the plans? Do they do that often, then? Planning? Or leaving you out, your choice, since it's the same in this case. So this is the trust Potter was talking about. He expects you to be a dependable little soldier doing his duty, knowing you trust him with Granger. Following their orders? Is that what you're good at?"

"Shut up," he ordered.

But she didn't feel like shutting up. She knew she had hit a sore spot. "So the two of them are the brains around here? Makes sense. So... do they do that often? Talk without you around? Come up with something brilliant while you wait for them obediently?" Again she made a pause, before she added, "They must understand each other very well. You know, at school, many people wondered about how close those two are. Of course, the rumour mill being what it is did its part and people saw what they wanted to see. But I've been staying with you for a while now."

"Be quiet, Greengrass," Weasley told her, but his voice made it sound less like an order and more like a plea. She knew she had struck gold.

"They do complement each other, don't you think so? Both seem to be doing well in school, both are trying to get better and – more importantly – succeeding. It's Potter and Granger, the lucky one and the smart one." She stopped for a moment. "And loathe as I am to admit it, whenever I talked to him, well, he seemed utterly disinterested, distracted in a way, as if he had someone else on his mind. Do you know how much that had bothered me? To have him disregard me like that? Ignoring the blow to the ego for the moment, it made getting concessions out of him very difficult during our negotiations."

"I'm warning you," he said. It did sound like a warning, but she knew she had little to lose. It was time to fight back.

"I can't fault him, to be honest. Granger does seem like a good influence on him. It's obvious just how much she cares about him, isn't it? Yes, I know, they are friends since our first year. She cares a lot about him, doesn't she? I am a woman as well, I can tell. I have seen the looks she sent his way, one of the advantages of being female. Did you see the look they shared earlier? And now she's out there planning the next steps with him, instead of in here with you, making sure I don't escape. They even went outside. Seems like they don't need you there, doesn't it? They're perfectly fine without you."

"Greengrass." His tone had grown even harsher, and she knew she was on the right track.

"They are good for each other, complementing each other. The smart one. The lucky one. And he is lucky to have Granger as a friend. A caring, kind, intelligent friend who understands him, who knows what he needs. Granger and Potter, the duo. Oh, and you, of course," she added as an afterthought.

"Yeah, you just keep talking," Weasley grumbled, but it seemed as if his mood had improved.

She changed tactics slightly. "And I can see why Granger would choose him, to be honest. He's a strong wizard, courageous. You said it yourself, he wouldn't let any harm come to her. He'd protect her. Of course, you would probably try as well, wouldn't you? I think so; you would try to stand by her side. You were there for her after the bad news about her family came. You were a good friend." She watched him swell slightly in pride and kept herself from chuckling. "But I do wonder, between Potter and you, who would she choose?"

"Ron," Granger announced from the door. The time had run out, it seemed, and just a bit too early. "Harry and I are done talking. He had an idea I could agree with. Could you go and watch Kreacher? We don't want him getting funny ideas now, do we?" She chuckled.

The redhead jumped to his feet and left the room without another word.

"Mind games, Greengrass?" the Muggleborn asked once they were alone, dropping all signs of amusement. With a swish of her wand, she vanished the ropes. "And I had thought you couldn't sink lower."

"To be fair, there is not much to play with in Weasley's case," Daphne replied with a shrug, sitting up. Granger had freed her. There had to be some reason for it, but Daphne wasn't about to question her luck.

"Let's get right into the matter," Granger said. "Things may have gotten out of hand earlier."

"'May have gotten out of hand', Granger?" Daphne replied with a challenging eyebrow.

"We overreacted," the other girl continued as if she hadn't heard the interruption. "I want to apologize for my part in it. For the time being we're willing to let bygones be bygones – both sides were at fault, after all – assuming you don't do something similar to undermine any remaining trust we might have left. But the underlying issue is not solved. A word of advice from me – don't do that again, it's not smart to oppose Harry, and it's even worse trying to curse him. Irrespective of who you are, he does have to think of all of us – he offers us room here and does take our safety seriously. That includes you right now for reasons I currently fail to understand. Continue to challenge him like that and he might change his mind.

"This leaves us with the main issue – trust. We cannot trust you unconditionally, especially after you were caught trying to listen in on us, refused our compromise, and attacked Harry. If you accidentally missed, you have a horrible aim, though, so it might have been intentional as part of a ploy to make you seem unskilled to fulfil your task, whether it'd be spying or something else. So what to do? There aren't really that many options left. If you decide to leave..."

"Really, Granger? You think I'd stick around after that?" Daphne growled, rubbing her wrists.

"If you decide to leave, we won't stop you, even though we probably should. If you stay, however, then the issue will come up again. Harry came up with yet another compromise for you to refuse, but one that might solve the problem if you follow the rules. Right now, we need something from you, something to show us you really are on our side." The Muggleborn narrowed her eyes. "And after your attempted mind game with Ron, you will have to do something big for that to happen. As for Ron, I can only guess, but you've lost what little goodwill you had with me. I don't like people trying to curse my friends." She left, but before Daphne could follow, Potter stepped into the room. Thankfully, he kept his distance. Then again, he did keep close to the door.

"Well, it's the two of us now," he told her. "I'll start by saying I'm sorry for the treatment earlier." She wasn't sure whether she believed him. She knew she didn't want to. "I overreacted. We all did, I think. Still, I acknowledge I was one of the driving forces in our little... episode."

"An apology won't change what happened," Daphne pointed out. Reluctantly, she added with a tired sigh, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I cast that spell."

"Because you missed?" he asked with a forced-sounding chuckle.

"It hadn't been my intention, I just... reacted," Daphne explained. "I still stand by what I said, though."

"I should thank you for what you said," Potter said, smiling slightly. "Harsh though it might have been, it was also what I needed to hear. I had gotten a bit ahead of myself."

Daphne rolled her eyes, covertly looking for her wand. "You take yourself too seriously. You are not the centre of the universe, and this war isn't about you. You are just as small and unimportant as everyone else, Potter. Stop thinking it all depends on you."

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Be that as it may, I have decided to give you the benefit of doubt this time. You are free to go if you want. Should you choose to stay, however, then we will need a more permanent solution. We will need something to trust you after you sent that spell at me, even if it had been nothing more than instinct. You will need to gain someone's trust, at least, assuming you want to stay here. We can't continue as before, and by that, I mean mostly you. You claim to be our ally, but you refuse to give us anything to get to know and trust you. I have an offer for you – if you're willing to listen."

"Well then," Daphne said, jumping off the table. "I'll go packing." Picking up her wand from where it had fallen, she left the room. How odd, she thought, that a situation could change in such a short time. Not even an hour ago, she had been loosely allied with Potter and his merry band of followers, and now she was about to leave them for good again.

She reached her room in short time. Luckily, most of her possessions were already there. She had never really spread out anywhere else in the house. Maybe it had to do with no longer living in a dorm after years of doing so. Tracey had a tendency of borrowing books or utensils –brushes and the like, mostly, since she had a tendency to lose her own –which meant that keeping things in their correct place made it easier to see whether the girl had taken something. Pansy wasn't much better, granted, but she was also more mindful to tell when she did take something.

Easily sorting through her belongings, Daphne let her mind wander. So where would she go? Her first instinct was to return to her parents. But then, the Death Eaters would search for her there, no doubt about that. After she had hurt one of them, she wouldn't be surprised if the Malfoys would pay a personal visit once in a while. And should they learn about Daphne staying there, she wouldn't be safe there. She couldn't return home for the same reason that she couldn't write her family –anything pointing towards her endangered them and her.

So not a return home, then. But she couldn't ask her friends for help either. They had avoided the worst trouble, from what Daphne had heard, but she couldn't risk their safety once more. Did she know someone who could help her without putting themselves in danger? Perhaps she could ask Tom, the barman of the Leaky Cauldron, whether he... but no. There were bound to be spies watching.

Daphne slowed down. Who did she know who could help? She couldn't turn to the Ministry for help. They were working with the Death Eaters; going to either of them wouldn't end well for her. So not the Ministry. Perhaps she could try Professor Snape? But she had no way of communicating with him, and what could he do? And furthermore, he was working with Potter; wouldn't he be reluctant to help her escape the Boy-Who-Lived? Or would he jump at the chance? But she still lacked a way of getting in contact with him.

She knew for certain that she wouldn't turn herself in; she wouldn't go to the Death Eaters. The Malfoys wouldn't let her be, of that she had no doubt. So she couldn't stay with anyone she knew, she couldn't go to the authorities, she wouldn't join the Death Eaters –not until the Malfoys were dealt with, at least, and by that time, there likely wouldn't be a choice left –which left her with dreadfully few options. Whom could she trust? Ignoring the irony of her considering a trust issue in her situation, she considered other options.

She could go abroad. It might work, she reasoned. Once she was in France, she could travel south. Or perhaps east. The farther she came, the less the Dark Lord's chances were of actually catching her, and the empty areas in the east might prove to be a good hiding place.

But how was she meant to leave the country? Apparating to France? Not impossible, but at the same time very conspicuous. Perhaps she could find herself a boat. But then, every official transport would surely be checked. And Professor Snape had said something about an evacuation going on during the talk she had overheard, hadn't he?

Maybe she did have a tendency to eavesdrop, Daphne mused.

So people were trying to leave the country? It made sense, but would also mean a closer watch on the borders. Could she slip through? She was on her own, so maybe she could, but on the other hand, she was also on her own – she couldn't rely on the help of others to bribe the guards or something of that sort.

If she couldn't leave the country and couldn't stay in the magical world, then she had to enter the Muggles'. Only, she realized, she had very little knowledge about them, and certainly not enough to avoid suspicion or get by. Muggles used money, didn't they? Surely they did, Daphne remembered Malfoy complaining about it after the World Cup. But Daphne had none, and even if she had had some of it stashed somewhere, how was she supposed to get by? Some things might be similar enough to work it out –and hadn't Tracey once said the differences weren't that big anyway? –but Daphne wasn't so sure about that. Could she survive among Muggles? And she couldn't just put up protections for herself, could she? If she was meant to be nothing more than a Muggle, she couldn't very well cast extensive protections around her home. In the end, she doubted she could be a convincing Muggle. Why hadn't she visited Tracey and her grandfather once? Or asked Millicent about it? Or talked more with Cousin Helena? Though she wasn't really all that close to her Muggle relatives, Helena might just know something useful about Muggles. But no, another wasted opportunity.

Could Daphne use Muggle transportation away from the island? Muggles travelled, didn't they? Surely they did. But then, they most likely demanded money for the transport, money Daphne didn't have. Perhaps she could sell some Galleons, but whether it would be enough she didn't know. And it would certainly draw attention if she did. So, leaving the island was out as well.

Daphne stood rooted to the spot, realizing the trouble she was in. Her options were very limited. She could try her luck, hiding among the Muggles, perhaps trying to escape Great Britain, even if she had little chance of actually staying unremarkable or successfully leaving. She had little money on her since hadn't expected to have to live off of it. The magical world was not possible; she would be noticed and caught for sure. So it was either going among the Muggles or staying with Potter and his followers who had planned to erase her memory not even an hour ago, the same Potter she had sent a spell at, even if she hadn't meant to and had missed. What was worse, even though she hated to admit it, but even if she didn't agree with his earlier conclusion, she did understand his worries. Had she been someone else, she might have agreed to the compromise. Had she been someone else, she might have reached out to them before.

Had she lost the one safe haven available to her due to her eavesdropping?

She might have cursed, had she known any appropriate words for the situation. Instead, she flung herself on the bed, fighting down the impulse to lash out at everything. Why did it have to happen to her? She would have been happy, very happy indeed, to stay out of the war and the trouble. Let Potter worry about Death Eaters and Muggles and the like, it wasn't her war, was it? But no, she was stuck with him, and all because Malfoy had opposed her, all because an idiotic boy had decided she had joined his enemies. Why did she have to get pulled into the mess? All Hallow's Eve was drawing nearer; she could almost smell and taste the food. She could feel the soft blankets of the dormitory, could see the crackling fire in the Common Room. She missed it. She really missed being at Hogwarts. She missed her friends who had stood up for her, she missed going to class, even missed doing the homework. She missed the meals; she missed the chilly Scottish weather. Instead of all that, she was stuck with people she had no connection to at all, who she didn't particularly like even before they had planned to butcher her mind. She missed the light, she missed talking to people, she missed having some control over her life.

What had she done to deserve such an injustice and having to choose between safety and privacy? She had been relatively decent to people. She had paid attention in class, had tried to keep neutral about loaded issues. Hadn't she tried to get along with everyone? She had even kept from attacking other houses. She was a nice person, wasn't she? Relatively speaking, at least? So why did it have to be her who had to suffer? Then again, wasn't that how things worked out? No matter what you did or tried or wished for, you were helpless against fate's cruelty. Rolling on her side, she tried to sort through her feelings.


So there's that. At least that's out in the open now, and nothing but sunshine and butterflies ahead.

.

I've changed three wordings.

I added the bolded part to '"[...]Hasn't anyone taught you that?" she asked, bitterness seeping into her voice. Didn't she know just how true those words were? For a moment, Daphne thought of her cousin Ophelia [...].' It should clear up any confusion over her mindset.

I added the bolded part to "she wouldn't join the Death Eaters –not until the Malfoys were dealt with, at least, and by that time, there likely wouldn't be a choice left –which left her with dreadfully few options." It now includes a prediction about the course of the war, specifically, that signing up for the Death Eaters might become inevitable.

I changed the last paragraph's tone slightly by adding "[She was a nice person, wasn't she?] Relatively speaking, at least?" I also cut the sentence "What had she done to deserve such a horrible luck?" and instead wrote "Then again, wasn't that how things worked out? No matter what you did or tried or wished for, you were helpless against fate's cruelty", linking it back to her earlier outburst.