A/N: Warnings for sexism and homophobia (the later of which comes into play in chapter two).

This is going to be a two-shot.

Word count: 2,914

Daphne's favourite storybook was, without a doubt, Orin the Auror. She'd had the book for as long as she could remember, and though she couldn't read it on her own yet, the pictures were enough to keep her occupied when her parents didn't have time to read to her. She'd flipped through the entire series so often that the pages had been magically repaired three times after coming free from the binding.

Orin did exciting things that Daphne could only dream of. He dueled would-be thieves in front of Gringotts. He observed people on the street until he could recite their entire life's story for the smallest of clues. He even protected Hogwarts when Headmaster Henry wasn't strong enough to do so himself.

Yes, Orin the Auror was Daphne's hero. It didn't matter whether he was real or not. It never occurred to her to consider such things anyway. He was real enough inside her heart and her imagination, and all she wanted was to be like him when she was older.

"I'm going to be an Auror," she announced to her uncle one day, her chest puffing out with the declaration.

The newest Orin book was clutched in her hands, and her uncle eyed it distastefully as he observed her. Daphne's grin didn't fall until he spoke.

"Don't be ridiculous," he drawled, emphasizing the words with a roll of his eyes. "No proper Greengrass woman can become an Auror."

A lead weight settled in the pit of Daphne's stomach. It was true that Orin and many of his fellow Aurors were men, but there were a couple of women who fought alongside him, even if none of them were named. It had never occurred to Daphne that she wouldn't be welcome in the profession.

"Why?" she asked, her voice quivering.

She clutched onto the arm of her uncle's chair and waited for his answer with baited breath, but when his answer came, it lacked the clarity Daphne had been hoping for.

"It's men's work," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You'll understand when you're older. No use worrying about it now. Just run along and play with your toys."

"But—"

Her mother cut her off with simply her name.

Daphne turned to her, shoulders drooping at the stern look on her mother's face.

"Go play with your sister," Mrs. Greengrass said, motioning at the blanket where baby Astoria was sitting with a wooden block in her mouth.

Daphne did as she was told, flopping herself down in a huff next to the baby, whose eyes tracked her as her mouth continued to work on the block. Daphne didn't pay Astoria any attention as her gaze fell to the book in her lap. She blinked as tears stung at her eyes.

Orin the Auror's face smiled up at her, oblivious to her uncle's words.

Whether or not Daphne would understand when she was older remained a mystery for years to come. Within months of her uncle's words, she forgot all about them. She discovered that there were countless mysteries in the world aside from whether or not she would become an Auror and solving those mysteries came to take up a good amount of her time.

Daphne's cousin Krista was several years older than Daphne and lived in the United States. Though Daphne had only met her a few times, Krista could do no wrong in her eyes. She was the coolest person in the world. Possibly even cooler than Orin the Auror.

When Krista spoke, her odd American accent captured Daphne's full attention.

"I can't wait to get married," Krista said, falling back against the pillows of Daphne's bed.

Daphne scowled at the older girl. Krista had just started school at Ilvermorny the previous autumn, and though Daphne's parents insisted that Ilvermorny couldn't provide as good of an education as Hogwarts, Daphne was fascinated by every story Krista had about the place.

Her cousin had changed since the last time Daphne had seen her, even if the previous visit was already foggy in Daphne's young memory. Marriage was only one of the subjects Krista wanted to discuss despite never mentioning it before, but it was by far the most distressing.

"Why?" Daphne whined, throwing herself onto the bed beside her cousin and pressing her face into a pillow. "The only thing married people do is yell at each other."

Krista laughed and patted Daphne on the head.

"They only do that sometimes," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I mean that I want to be really married, like people are when they're in love. Not married like that."

Daphne had no idea what Krista meant. Every married couple she met seemed more or less the same, but despite being confused, she scowled at her cousin. Krista didn't notice. Her dreamy gaze was focused on something beyond the walls of Daphne's room.

"There's a boy named Leon at school," she whispered. "I'm in love with him, but you can't tell anyone. It's a secret."

She pressed her finger against her lips.

Daphne nodded furiously. Despite her own feelings about marriage, she would never break Krista's confidence.

"Is he your boyfriend?" she asked, unable to keep her voice from scrunching up with the question.

Krista laughed, her cheeks turning pink as she buried her face in a pillow. Her words were muffled.

"No," she admitted. "I haven't told him that I like him yet. But we're meant for each other. All my friends agree."

She peeked up from the pillow as if expecting Daphne to agree as well, but Daphne stayed silent. She didn't know this Leon. How was she to know whether he and Krista were meant for each other? Still, she was doubtful about the whole thing.

"I don't get it," she said, flipping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. "Why would you want a boy around all the time? They're annoying."

Krista laughed and patted Daphne's hand, her giggles increasing when Daphne swatted at her.

"You'll understand in the future," she promised, not the least bit concerned by Daphne's glare.

A few years later, Krista also became the person to shed light on the mystery of how babies are made to Daphne, who gasped in horror throughout the explanation.

Krista had never seen or done any of what she was explaining for herself of course. She was a respectable witch. But her friends had passed on the important details that they'd gleaned from their own sources, and Krista was determined to do the same for Daphne.

"And then: baby," Krista concluded, waving her hands through the air.

Daphne stared at her in horror, her mouth hanging open. Even at nine, she was grateful that Astoria was down for a nap. She couldn't imagine her baby sister listening to a horror story like the one she'd just heard.

"Why would anyone do that?" she asked, throwing her arms over her head.

Krista shrugged.

"Jamie says it feels good. Adults like it. She also said sometimes you bleed, but that's only the first time."

"No, no, no!" Daphne chanted, pressing her hands over her face to hide from reality. "I don't like it. I don't like it at all!"

"Relax," Krista said with a laugh. "You're still little. You'll understand when you're older."

Daphne peeked at her cousin through her fingers. She didn't know how Krista could understand it considering she'd never done it either, but of course, her big cousin understood everything even when it didn't make sense to Daphne.

"Well, I'm never doing that," Daphne declared.

"You have to do it, Daphne," Krista said, reaching out to pat her on the head. "It's the only way to have a baby."

The whole story had to be a lie. There was no way any babies would have existed ever if what Krista said was true. Daphne narrowed her eyes, wondering if there were parts of the story Krista hadn't told her.

"Then I'm never having a baby," Daphne said, crossing her arms against her chest.

She'd never been as interested in dolls as Astoria anyway. Having babies wasn't something she had bothered to think about much before, and after hearing what Krista had to say, it sounded utterly repulsive.

Krista shrugged and slumped until her arm was pressed against Daphne's. She stared into space as she considered the idea herself.

"I don't think it's too bad," she said, even as her voice revealed a bit of unease. "You'll probably change your mind."

Daphne scowled back.

Once she got to Hogwarts, Daphne listened to the girls in her dormitory talk about boys constantly while wondering how many of them had the same information that she did. She didn't dare ask. That would mean having to talk about it, and if anything, she was less enthusiastic about the idea of doing something with a boy than she had been at nine. That wasn't something that bothered her too much though; she hardly thought about it at all.

It wasn't until late in her second year that she started having realizations that worried her more than her disinterest in boys.

Her friendships with the girls in her dormitory were largely friendships of convenience. They were each girls of good social standing, and they were right there. It was natural that Daphne would stick with them even when they bored her to death with their talk of boys this and boys that.

They were convenient to have a round, and sometimes they were even interesting. But Daphne couldn't have prepared herself for the first time Pansy stripped off her robes in their dormitory and Daphne felt things she hadn't before.

She turned away the second the feeling came over her, determined to stifle it and bury it down deep. There were no words in her vocabulary to describe what she felt, though it scared her how well it matched things the other girls had said to her before when talking about boys. She'd never been able to understand them before.

The years that followed were torture as Daphne struggled to avoid her own dormitory as much as possible. She did all of her own dressing in the toilet, much to her roommates' amusement.

Their friendships grew ever more strained as Pansy and the others questioned her about her odd behavior, but they could think whatever they wanted. Daphne would never share the truth.

Millicent was the only friend who stayed loyal to Daphne as the years passed, and for that, Daphne was grateful. The other girls in her year were polite, of course, as befitted Daphne's status as a pureblood in good social standing, but their relationship was little more than politeness. Millicent was the only person who Daphne was comfortable around, and she regretted that at least part of that was because Millicent didn't stir the uncomfortable butterflies Daphne sometimes got around the other girls.

What Millicent didn't know couldn't hurt her, though, so Daphne kept her close.

She wasn't sure when it happened exactly. Maybe it was after Pansy made a thinly veiled comment about Millicent's appearance. Maybe Daphne had just been feeling particularly frustrated by her own repressed feelings one day.

Whatever had prompted it, poking fun at their roommates became Daphne and Millicent's thing.

Pansy was the easiest target. By the time they were in their fifth year, her obsession with keeping Draco's attention was too desperate to be ignored. Daphne loathed it for a million reasons, not least of which was the fact that plenty of other people would have slathered Pansy with attention if she'd give up on Draco. There was no reason he deserved Pansy's undying loyalty when he didn't return her affection in kind.

Daphne didn't think that much of her behavior. Comments that Pansy didn't hear couldn't hurt her. So, when Daphne entered their dormitory to find Pansy sobbing into her pillow, she thought the tears must be Draco's fault.

"What did he do this time?" Daphne asked as she headed for her trunk.

She'd only come back to the dormitory to retrieve a new bottle of ink, but she knew that Pansy wouldn't let her leave without ranting and raving about whatever had transpired between her and her chosen target. Draco had probably ignored her after they snogged or something. Those were usually the slights that got Pansy riled up.

There was a pause in Pansy's sniffling, but she didn't launch into an angry rant like Daphne expected.

Having pulled a bottle of ink out of her trunk, Daphne stood, glancing at Pansy's bed to find the other girl glaring at her through red-rimmed eyes. Her eyeliner was smeared, leaving her even more of a mess than she would have been from the tears alone.

"He didn't do anything," Pansy snapped.

Daphne held her hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay, sorry," she said. "It's always his fault, so sue me for thinking he'd done something again."

Pansy's gaze fell to her bedsheets, her shoulders slumping forward. She looked so unlike herself that Daphne couldn't slip out the door like she'd been determined to do. With a sigh, she sat on the edge of her own bed and prepared herself to listen.

"What happened then?" she asked.

The glare Pansy shot her was half-hearted and ended with her gaze once again falling to her bedsheets.

"Some of the boys were joking that Draco would never date me because I'm too easy," she admitted quietly.

Daphne shifted on her bed. She'd said the same thing countless times, so she couldn't assure Pansy the words weren't true without lying. Draco had never had any intention of dating Pansy; everyone could see that.

"Ignore them," she said, shaking her head. "They're stupid boys. What's their opinion worth?"

Pansy lifted her head slowly, raising one eyebrow at Daphne.

"You say the same thing."

Daphne froze. She'd been certain that she and Millicent had covered their tracks. When had they messed up? Had Millicent betrayed her confidence? Had Pansy spied on them?

Not sure how to extricate herself from the situation, she chose to say nothing until Pansy shook her head and averted her gaze to a corner of the room.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "Not really. I know everyone thinks it."

"I'm sorry," Daphne said, hating the words even as she said them. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Pansy snorted but nodded.

"It's whatever," she said.

Daphne mimicked her, nodding for an absurdly long time as she struggled over what to say next. She couldn't come up with anything and was forced to let them fall into an awkward silence.

She pledged at that moment to never imply anything uncouth about Pansy again.

Daphne's pulse reverberated in her ears as she threw everything she could into her magically expanded trunk. She knew that she had time before anything actually happened, but after the night she'd had, she needed to escape as soon as possible, even if it meant accidentally leaving something behind.

"Where are you going to go?"

Daphne froze before turning to find Astoria in the doorway.

"I don't know," she said, turning back to her haphazard packing. "Maybe Millicent's or Pansy's. Neither one of them live with their parents, so I should be safe with them."

Astoria fell quiet as she sat down on Daphne's bed.

A bed that Daphne would miss. She was sure she'd never sleep in it again once she fled the house. Her parents would never allow her back. It was a small price to pay considering the only other option.

"Do you really think marrying Zabini would be that bad?"

Daphne was tempted to ignore Astoria's question. After all, she couldn't explain the real reason why the idea of marrying Blaise made her sick to her stomach. The real reason would only make the situation worse than it already was.

"Yes, I do," she said. "I'm not going to be some perfect pureblood housewife who pops out the required babies and obeys my husband's every whim like a servant."

More silence.

Daphne threw the last of her things into her trunk and snapped it shut with a flick of her wand.

"Blaise is a good guy," Astoria said hesitantly.

"He is," Daphne said. "But I'm not marrying him just because our parents want me to. I'm not their property to marry off to whoever gives them the best deal."

Astoria bit her lip, her gaze distant as she considered Daphne's words for herself.

It was easy for her. Easier than she even realized. She'd fallen for Draco Malfoy, and their families were already preparing for the betrothal. Daphne was happy enough for her that she could hide her jealousy. Astoria would never understand just how good she had it.

"I'll stay in touch," Daphne said, hovering in front of her sister. "I don't know if Mum and Dad will let you read any letters I send, so I'll send them to your room at night. I hope you'll write back."

Astoria's eyes widened. She shot up from the bed, startling Daphne into taking several steps backward.

"Of course I'll write back!" Astoria exclaimed.

With a sob, she flung herself at Daphne and wrapped her arms around her in a vice-like grip. Daphne returned the hug, not sure she could find the strength to let go. She couldn't have if leaving hadn't been crucial.

Her last glimpse of her sister that night was of a tear-stained face.