Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Chapter Warning: Implied abuse
I'm a survivor (what?)
I'm not gon' give up (what?)
I'm not gon' stop (what?)
I'm gon' work harder (what?)
Daphne Greengrass was taught girls are to be pretty and quiet; she was taught girls obey the men; she was taught girls are never meant to be heard and rarely be seen except for social and charity events and the occasional shopping trip; she was taught girls give their husband an heir, groom the heir, and stand by their husband's side. She was never allowed to share her opinion. She watched daily as her father hit her mother.
She wanted to rebel so badly, but every time the thought came to her head she saw Astoria playing with her dolls or chasing butterflies in the garden. Daphne couldn't leave Astoria to deal with this horror. She knew this couldn't be right, and she discovered she was right when her father finally allowed her to attend the Malfoy's Christmas ball. Mitzy, their nanny elf, was to stay with Astoria for the night.
Before taking the floo to Malfoy Manor, her father stopped her. "Now Daphne, how will you act?"
"I will only speak when addressed, and then only give simple answers. If someone asks me to dance or sit with them, then I must ask your permission first. I will not make any weird noises. I will get either you or mother to escort me out of the ballroom if need be after I have gained your permission. I will not interrupt any of your conversations. I will set the proper example of a proper Greengrass girl."
Lyle Greengrass smiled and nodded. "Very good, darling. I shall floo first followed by you and then your mother. Do not mess up, Daphne."
"Yes sir."
"A simple nod would have sufficed," Her father grabbed a handful of floo powder and shouted, "Malfoy Manor!"
Lyle dissolved in the green flames. "Mother," Daphne said quietly, "Do you ever think father is wrong?"
"Don't let him hear you say such a foolish notion, Daphne. Just follow your father's rule and not the guide of others. It is with your father you will return home with tonight, not the other families," Her mother pushed her towards to the floo. "Go now. Try not to muck up your dress and hair. Soot can leave damage on your precious blonde hair."
Daphne grabbed the powder and called out her destination. "What took you so long?" Her father growled as he yanked her out of the floo.
"Mother was straightening my hair and dress one last time," Daphne lied. "She wanted me to look perfect since this is my first societal event."
He believed her pathetic excuse. Diana came out of the floo a second later. Lyle took his wife on his arm. He put Daphne in front of them with his remaining hand on her back guiding her in the right direction. They stopped in front of a group of adults.
A man with long, almost white hair smiled at them and shook her father's hand. "Wonderful to see you, Lyle. Diana, you look lovely tonight," The man took notice of Daphne. "Who is this?"
"Our eldest daughter, Daphne," Lyle answered. "Say hello, Daphne."
"Hello," Daphne said quietly.
A woman with hair matching hers smiled at Daphne. "It is lovely to meet you, Daphne. I am Narcissa Malfoy, and this is my husband Lucius. Our son Draco is your age. He is over there sitting with other children you age. Why don't I take you over there to sit and eat with them."
Daphne glanced up to her father. "Daphne will stay with us to eat, Narcissa," he answered.
"Nonsense. She will be going to Hogwarts with those children. Come now, Daphne, before all the food is gone," Narcissa guided Daphne away from the group of adults.
"How did you do that?" Daphne asked, shocked that Narcissa spoke that way. "Won't your husband be upset with you for talking like that?"
Narcissa looked at Daphne oddly. "Of course not, dear. I am entitled to my own opinions."
"Father would get very upset if I talked like that."
"I'm sure Lyle would. Take this tip from me, Daphne, because your mother will certainly be no hope in helping you survive in this world: use the concepts your father expects as a ruse to keep everyone off your back and keep you underestimated. Women can accomplish very much because we are underestimated," They stopped at a table. Narcissa glared at the blond boy slopping on his food. "Where are your manners, Draco? I hadn't realized this was a barn."
The boy, Draco, swallowed his food. "I'm sorry, mother."
"This is Daphne Greengrass," Narcissa introduced, "The sloppy one is my son Draco. From his left on is Theodore Nott, Hestia Carrow, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, Millicent Bulstrode, Gregory Goyle, Flora Carrow, Marcus Flint, and Gwyneth Rosier. Gwyneth will attend Beauxbatons in two years. Hestia and Flora are twins. Marcus is several years older than you. He and Pansy have older brothers running around here somewhere. Besides Gwyneth, the rest will be in Hogwarts with you; besides Marcus and the twins, the others will be in your year. Hestia and Flora will be in the year below. Why don't you sit between Theodore and Draco."
The boy called Theodore quickly stood up and pulled back the empty seat between him and Draco. Daphne sat down and Theodore pushed her in.
"At least someone is a gentleman," Narcissa said, staring her son down.
"Theo seemed to have a decent grasp on the situation mother," Draco replied and took another bite.
Narcissa nodded and walked away. "Do you have any siblings?" the girl Pansy asked. "I have an idiot older brother, Basil. Mother says he is an absolute genius, but I know how stupid he actually is."
Daphne replied yes, and Pansy looked at her if she was stupid. "Yes what?"
"I have a sibling."
"Brother or sister? Older or younger? I want detail."
"I have a little sister named Astoria. She is two years younger," Daphne took a small bite of her salad.
Pansy wasn't interested in her after that, none of the other children seemed to be—except Theodore. He kept glancing over at her, watching every little move she made. Several times they made eye contact but Daphne looked away first.
After they finished their dessert, she felt someone grab her hand. Daphne tensed thinking it was her father. Glancing over, she saw Theodore holding it. "Come dance with me."
"I have to ask my father first," Daphne said quietly.
Theodore didn't let go of her hand; instead, he pulled her towards the dance floor. "I'm not asking for your hand in marriage. It's just one dance."
"Father doesn't like it when I don't ask his permission before I do something."
"Clearly you've never lived and had the fun of toeing the line and accomplishing the unexpected." Theodore put his other hand on her waist and began dancing. Daphne clamped her hand on his shoulder. "Does your father tell you you have to be quiet too? You don't talk much. Pansy talks a lot, Narcissa is always taking charge when no one is looking, and my mum always tells my dad what she is thinking."
Daphne stayed quiet.
"My mum also tells me to find a girl who values herself because then she'll value all the love you give her," Theodore continued. "I don't think you value yourself."
"Would it please you if I did?"
"Only if you wanted to and truly did. It's not worth doing it if you can't do it to get some sort of reward out of it. My dad is a lot older than my mum. He told me that he didn't ever plan on marrying until he met her and fell in love. She gave him a new view of life. That's what he tells me."
Daphne was still quiet, absorbing all the words Theodore said. "I think that you think like my mum but you don't say anything in fear of disappointing your father and mother and ruining whatever image they told you you must act. I see you, Daphne—"
"Daphne!" she heard her father call.
"—And you seem too smart and beautiful to act like a girl you are nothing like. Stay strong, Greengrass." Theodore let go of her and walked away.
As Daphne watched him retreat through the crowd, she felt her father's familiar grip pull her away from the edge of the ballroom floor. "We are leaving," he snapped softly. Her mother followed them when they walked past. She seemed to be mid-conversation with Narcissa and a woman who resembled Pansy, probably her mother, but dropped it to follow her husband and daughter.
"What were you doing dancing?" her father growled. "I don't remember you asking my permission to dance."
Daphne stared at her feet. "I'm sorry, father. I was having a nice time with the other kids and joined them when they all started dancing."
"The other children had partners. Who did you dance with?"
"Theodore Nott."
Her cheek stung after he removed his hand from it. "Don't hang around Nott again. His mother is a nuisance. I don't understand why Leopold cannot control her. Narcissa isn't much better. Then again she is a Black," Lyle glanced at his daughter. "Diana, clean Daphne up and put her to bed."
Lyle walked towards his study as Diana ushered her daughter to her room. Daphne noticed the fear in her mother's eyes. From what she learned tonight from Theodore, Narcissa, and just observing, this wasn't common. Daphne didn't know what she was going to do about it, but she had to do something, if not for herself then for Astoria. She wouldn't let her little sister grow with this mindset.
Pansy Parkinson stared into the mirror. She combed her fingers through her hair one more time. Her mother always told her first impressions were made from looks. She smoothed out the crease in her dress again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"I don't understand why you are trying so hard," Pansy's eyes flew open. She saw in the mirror her brother, Basil, leaning in the doorway. "No matter how many times you try to perfect yourself, you are still going to look like a pug."
"Mother always says looks are the first impression," Pansy answered. "Clearly you've never listened to her since your face is still covered in pimples."
"It's called being a teenager. You'll understand when you look like this in a few years," Basil sneered.
Pansy rolled her eyes and straightened her necklace. "Perhaps my face will also be covered in pimples, but at least I'll make them look beautiful or cover them with makeup."
"Makeup can cover any blemish," Basil agreed, "Makes sense on why you cake your face with it."
Pansy grabbed a bottle of perfume and threw it at her brother. He was already gone as the glass bottle shattered against the wall. Pansy collapsed into a heap of tears onto the floor. She tried her best to look beautiful like her mother told her she needed to be. Clearly she wasn't trying hard enough.
Posy Parkinson fussed over Pansy's hair. "I'm spelling your hair," her mother grumbled, "I cannot stand your hair being so short. We'll keep it past your shoulders."
"But I think it looks pretty short," Pansy protested.
Her mother scoffed. "What do you know about beauty, Pansy? Absolutely nothing, I can tell you that," Her mother paused. "You are prettier than your cousin, and if her parents found her a husband, then surely we can find you one."
That sounded like her mother. Her grandmother always said the same thing about her mother. Pansy made the promise to herself that she wouldn't be like this to here children. Pansy couldn't imagine herself being this cruel to anyone, except those who deserved it.
"Basil! Byron! We have to leave now!" Pansy's mother screamed.
Her ears rang. Pansy moved her hands closer to her ears to stop the ringing. Her mother swatted her hand away.
"Quit testing me, child. Behave during this and perhaps you can stay the night at Millicent's next weekend. Roberta told me yesterday during tea that her daughter greatly enjoyed your company last week at that charity event for St. Mungo's."
"But Millicent is obsessed with crups!" Pansy shrieked. "She believes kneazles are evil. I can't hang out with her when she believes that. What if she tried to kill Hyacinth?"
At the mention of her name, the kneazle rubbed up against her owner. As Pansy bent down to pet her beloved kneazle, Basil kicked the creature away.
"C'mon little sister, mother said it is time to go," Basil smirked.
Posy grabbed the portkey that would send them to the venue of the wedding. "Make a good impression, Pansy. You don't know what families will be there," her mother instructed.
Pansy nodded as the portkey took off. She fixed her hair one last time after they landed. She would be perfection.