The Slytherin common room was quiet. The castle was subdued after the previous day's affair, and the gunmetal skies were too bleak to encourage outdoor recreation. Small groups of students huddled together in uneasy idleness, and even Bertie was unusually still, sitting by the fire as though in silent contemplation.

Daphne spent the afternoon in the common room, writing letters; there was an endless stream of polite correspondence that the scion of a great House had to keep up, ranging from the mildly interesting to the downright banal. She had replied to a distant seventh-year cousin at Beauxbatons who had asked after Astoria, and it taken the better part of an hour to copy out several similarly-worded letters to herbologists around the country that discussed her nirnroot research and inquired after their stock.

Daphne saved the most difficult letter for last: the one to her father, the Lord Greengrass. He wrote often, as was his habit, but had become much more reticent in recent weeks. It disturbed Daphne, and she had little doubt as to the form of the shadow that haunted her father's mind. She only wished that she had more uplifting news to send home the day after a Hogsmeade visit, but these were dark times.

Theodore found the chair beside hers and began copying from a tome on runes—a tactful and discreet way of requesting conversation. Daphne understood his meaning. With a flourish, she signed her name, rolled up the parchment with practised ease, dripped a small measure of heated wax, and stamped her signet to magically seal the letter with her House's fir branch sigil. Theodore only spoke once she had covered up her inkwell.

"That was a brave thing you did yesterday," he said.

"I just did what any prefect would, though I clearly don't mind the house points. Besides, it was that Gryffindor girl who was in danger, not me."

"Well, I thought it was a brave thing that you did." Theodore rarely repeated himself, and Daphne was silent for a moment as she contemplated his meaning.

"Are you suggesting that I shouldn't have—"

"You didn't hear it from me, Daphne."

Daphne felt a chill overtake her. Suddenly the common room seemed very quiet, and for a moment Daphne thought that everyone had heard them. A few younger students stole glances in their direction, though probably more out of curiosity than malice.

"Any chance you'd like to study runes together, Theo? McKendrick's original translations are a bit dated. I think we should be able to find a revised edition in the library."

"I think I'll manage, thanks." Daphne hesitated for a moment, but decided not to press him. So that's all he's willing to divulge. She supposed she should be grateful. Theodore owed him nothing, and his family's allegiance was not exactly secret. When she heard that blood-curdling scream yesterday, all she had thought about was saving a life. On hindsight, it was clear that there were dark forces at work, which were better left alone. Daphne suddenly felt very alone and very tired. She gathered up her stack of sealed letters with deliberate carefulness and retreated into her dormitory, called a house elf to send them to the owlery, and collapsed into bed.

Daphne awoke to someone knocking on her door. It was dark and she was still wearing her school robes, and she could hear Pansy's shallow breathing in the adjacent bed. Just how long had she slept? Groggily, she opened the door to find an anxious-looking third-year. Daphne thought that she might have been one of Astoria's friends, but she could not remember her name. "Hey, what's the matter?"

"Daphne, Madam Pomfrey told me to ask you to find her."

"Now?"

"Yes, she said… she said it's about Katie Bell."

"Oh, that has to be important. Did she say what's the matter? Is Katie alright?"

"I don't know, you just have to go." And she scurried off.

Daphne thought that there was something about the third-year that was odd, but she put it out of her mind. Clearly something bad had happened to Katie, and Madam Pomfrey needed to ask about what Daphne had given her yesterday. She summoned her shoes and put them on and started at a brisk pace down to the common room. It was deserted, which was unsurprising given that it was long past midnight.

The night was moonless, which made the corridors seem even quieter than usual. Daphne barely gave it a second thought—she was used to patrolling the dark and empty castle, and her mind was racing with possibilities of what had happened to Katie and how she could help. The Headmaster did say that Professor Snape was already assisting with her treatment, and she knew of no greater authority on curses in the country (perhaps save Lord Slytherin). And she and Hermione had already told Madam Pomfrey in great detail about the makeshift potion they administered to Katie; surely a seasoned healer would understand the implications of common ingredients like tundra cotton. So why would Madam Pomfrey need—

Oh, fuck.

A cold shiver rushed through Daphne, and she stopped mid-strike. Taking only the briefest moment to collect her thoughts, she drew her wand, and in a swift motion turned around and shouted "Homenum Revelio!" She felt a swooping sensation, and instinctively took a step back. "Show yourself!"

"Well, you've caught me." Draco Malfoy removed his disillusionment charm, and stood before her. The corridor was unlit, and Daphne could only see him by the dim starlight piercing the windows. He looked gaunt and weary, but he was gripping his wand.

"What is this? Why did you try to ambush me?" Daphne shouted. She hoped that it would draw the attention of a patrolling prefect or professor.

"Calm down, Daphne. I just want to talk. In private."

"I don't believe you. And we have nothing to talk about. You're breaking curfew, so return to the common room."

"Look at you. Always the prefect, high and mighty. But you won't be for long. You've done something you shouldn't, and made someone very displeased."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure you know."

"No, I do not, unless you're talking about Katie. But I didn't think you'll stoop so low as to try and kill a classmate. Return to the common room now, or I will report you to the Headmaster."

Draco did not back down. "It's not about that blood-traitor. You're interfering with Lord Slytherin's plans."

Daphne almost gasped at the name, but kept her composure. "I have no idea what you're talking about, and you can explain yourself to the Headmaster tomorrow."

"Of course you don't. Look at you, you sound as pathetic as Potter and his mudblood. Always Dumbledore this, Dumbledore that. The old man won't be in charge much longer. I'm warning you, you'd stay out of our way if you know what's good for you."

"Or else what? You'd send a third-year to trick me out of bed so you can sneak up on me and attack me? You've crossed a line, Draco. I'm not letting this slide." At once Daphne regretted what she had said. Undoubtedly the wiser thing to do was to send him back to the dungeons and summon a professor, but his mention of Harry had angered her. Her mind raced. Could she take Draco? He was strong and quick, and his father was one of Lord Slytherin's most feared enforcers. But he looked haggard. There was a chance.

"I suppose I'll just have to obliviate you again," he said.

And suddenly it all fell into place.

"You bastard!" Daphne bellowed. "Reducto!"

Draco sidestepped the blue stream with surprising alertness and wordlessly sent his own blasting curse at her, which Daphne shielded. It crashed with such force that she staggered and nearly lost her balance. Her heart was thumping. If Draco was willing to kill Katie, he was not going to be holding back.

Draco was on the offensive, and he threw blasting curse after blasting curse while closing the ground between them. No flamboyant flourishes, no fancy footwork, just sheer power behind each Bombarda. It was crude but dangerously effective. Daphne's shield was crumbling. She threw herself to one side and whispered "Fumos". A cloud of smoke billowed from her wand, filling the corridor.

Daphne stepped backward to create distance, casting Aguamenti and Glacius at the ground. She heard Draco's muttered Ventus, but before the smoke could disperse, Daphne had already covered the stone floor beneath his feet with a thick sheet of ice. Two purple hexes flew at her, which missed, and Daphne responded by blasting the ceiling, causing a chandelier to crash down. With the ground too slippery to dodge without tripping, Draco banished it, but the effort shook him for a moment. Daphne's bludgeoning curse hit him in the hip, and he dropped to one knee on the ice.

"Don't you dare move!" shouted Daphne. "Why did you obliviate me? What did you do? Answer me!" Draco let out a low groan, and looked like he was trying to speak. Daphne instinctively walked towards him, and lowered her wand, and at that moment he struck.

In a vicious motion Draco jabbed his wand at her direction, and all at once Daphne felt as though her neck was being choked by irons and her chest had been crushed by stones. She dropped her wand and her hands clutched at her throat, trying to pry off the invisible garrotte, but it was futile: the strangulation did not relent. Daphne felt her windpipe being crushed on all sides by the weight of a train. She was desperate for air, and gasping, and then she could not even gasp. She could feel the veins on her face bursting from pressure and her vision beginning to blur. She thought she heard a distant crash but it did not register. She felt pain and fear and could not tell one from the other

Before the end she thought she saw green.