Merit and Inheritance
Chapter Thirty-three
Cordelia's Episode
The Potter Manor garden party for Astoria and Draco went well, or very well, depending on one's point of view. There was one little incident of note that mainly concerned Harry, Daphne, Astoria and Cyrus, when Cordelia exceeded her limitations and began to lobby Harry to declare the pool open for skinny-dipping. When she did not get a positive response, she tried casting a bigger net and began asking loudly that her immediate neighbors join her cause.
Daphne and Cyrus combined to get Cordelia inside and upstairs for a little lie-down and a cold compress for her forehead. Cyrus went back to the gardens while Daphne stayed behind to watch over Cordelia.
"Where am I? What room is this?" Cordelia asked from beneath the cold hand towel.
"It's my room," said Daphne, not really thinking about it.
"Your room? Your room, Daphne Greengrass? Why do you have a room at Potter's?" demanded Cordelia, getting her elbow beneath her and trying to raise up. She'd had more than she thought, though, and flopped back down.
"Yes, Mother, my room," said Daphne. "It's a manor, there are lots more rooms than Harry can use, so he let me take my pick. When I work all night I'll come out here to sleep. This is a lot quieter than my flat."
"I see," said Cordelia. She readjusted her towel, just covering her eyes and appeared to drift off.
"You can sleep in your room at home, if you need it quiet," she revived just enough to say.
Cordelia fell asleep.
"I know, Mum," said Daphne as she leaned over and kissed Cordelia's damp forehead.
Daphne stayed around a few minutes more, just to make sure Cordelia was sound asleep, then went downstairs and rejoined the party. Guests were beginning to take their leave. Harry stood with Draco and Astoria, before a bank of five spectacular gardenias, shaking hands and thanking people for coming. Some of the older guests had known James and Lily. More than one of the older witches teared up when they told Harry how good it felt to be a guest at Potter Manor again.
Daphne arrived and took her place beside Harry. The four became a reverse receiving line. Astoria was told she was going to be such a beautiful bride, Draco got countless congratulations and best wishes, Harry was commended for taking care of his historic property and Daphne was blessed, complimented on her beauty, thanked for the invitation and given a multitude of conversational openings to confide hers and Harry's relationship status, all of which she graciously deflected.
"Merlin, who invited him?" Daphne asked, spotting Laurent Selwyn heading their way.
"No one," said Draco. "He is a plus-one. Who's that witch, Astoria?"
"Meritous Pennyfarthing," said Astoria. "Goes by Meri."
Meritous Pennyfarthing was a witch from Astoria's year whose only distinguishing characteristic at Hogwarts had been her acknowledged status as a charms prodigy. Astoria had gotten to know her because Astoria had an affinity for charms as well, although she wasn't the prize-winner Meri was.
"I can see we're going to have to discuss this further," Daphne muttered to Astoria.
"Meri!" said Astoria. "And Laurent."
"Oh, Astoria, what a happy occasion!" said Ms. Pennyfarthing. "Everyone has been so nice, even when we didn't know each other. Draco, good afternoon, congratulations on your engagement. I've been anticipating today since the invitation arrived and I know so many other witches and wizards have been, too."
Meri continued on to Harry and Daphne, handing out gracious social niceties as if she had an endless supply and could, if pressed, keep it up until time for Evensong. Laurent Selwyn appeared to have gotten over his disappointment with his family's failed negotiations with Cyrus Greengrass. He followed in Meri's wake, nodding and giving each hand offered one perfunctory shake.
"Best," Laurent said, nodding to Astoria.
Draco received the corollary: "Congratulations."
Laurent loosened up enough to tell Harry, "Thank-you for including me."
"Daphne," he said, finally, taking her hand. While his date waited patiently Laurent took his time looking into Daphne's eyes before giving her face and hair a more general inspection. He had the self-discipline not to keep going and assess her torso, to Daphne's complete surprise.
Laurent's middle finger curled around and lay across Daphne's little finger and Iolanthe's ring. Daphne felt it move across the sapphire, once, twice, stroking. It couldn't have been unintentional.
"Now that is going too far," Daphne thought, immediately noticing Selwyn's face change from party-guest-civil to one of shock mixed with surprise. He jerked his hand away and turned to Meri.
"I suppose," he began, not waiting for Meri's response but turning immediately for the front of the house and its convenient apparition point. Daphne thought he seemed to be hurrying away, even from Meri. He raised his right hand, looked it over and worked the fingers more than once before they rounded the corner out of sight.
Daphne remembered Narcissa's thoughts as she stroked Iolanthe's ring with her left hand and waited for Hannah and Neville to work the line.
"Thank-you," she thought. "I wonder what else can you do?"
Narcissa waited until only a few guests were left, chatting as they walked toward their hosts. She walked up and stood next to Daphne's shoulder, away from the rest of the principals.
"What can I do?" Narcissa asked as she leaned close, speaking just for her prospective chieftain.
A number of tasks occurred to Daphne, some self-canceling, others more practical.
"Give us just a moment with these people and then come with me," she muttered.
When she was free Daphne caught Narcissa's eye and tilted her head toward the house.
"Mother might benefit from a chat with a peer, someone with a little longer perspective," said Daphne
"Someone, old, like me," said Narcissa, the glee in her self-assessment coming through.
"Someone with her kind of life experience," said Daphne. "I'll always be her daughter. That may be getting in the way of her search for clarification."
Together they climbed the stairs to the second floor, and Daphne's Potter Manor bedroom.
"Mum?" Daphne called softly, into the darkness through the half-opened door. Muffled sounds came back, barely audible. To Narcissa and Daphne they sounded like noise and not words, so nothing was lost.
"Mum?" Daphne called again. The room's enchantments recognized their mistress and lit the sconces.
Daphne sat on the edge of her bed. Cordelia had pulled the pillow over her face and was intent on keeping her weeping private. She pushed Daphne's hand away from the pillow, once, twice, before Daphne succeeded in getting the pillow from Cordelia's red and puffy face.
"What do you think, Mum?" Daphne asked. "Time for a little coffee? Tea? Do you feel up to it?"
"I can't go down there again," moaned Cordelia. "Did I ruin Astoria's party? I did, I ruined Astoria's engagement party. Harry won't ever invite me back, will he?"
Daphne looked at Narcissa, motioning with her eyes toward a chair that sat by the bedside table. Daphne cast a silent accio! The chair slid across the carpet to a spot convenient to Cordelia. Narcissa sat down and took Cordelia's hand.
"Narcissa? What are you doing here?" asked Cordelia, clearly startled by the appearance of someone outside her immediate family.
"Chatting up my soon-to-be in-law, Cordelia," said Narcissa. "Having a tough day? I've had some. Daphne thought we might resonate a little. If you'd like that."
Cordelia was silent, with nothing moving but the hand that gripped Narcissa's and the tears running from her eyes. From time to time Daphne dabbed her mother's cheeks with a tissue. Daphne let things go on as long as they seemed, in her healer's judgment, to serve a therapeutic purpose. She noticed Cordelia's wand was lying on the bed next to her left hand, so she picked it up and crossed to a vanity table, quietly opening and closing a drawer.
"Just for safety's sake," Daphne said to herself, although she didn't care one way or the other if Cordelia and Narcissa heard.
"How about that coffee, Mum?" Daphne asked.
"Did I ruin everything?" Cordelia moaned, looking at Narcissa.
"Oh, dear, no," answered Narcissa. "You humanized a rather stilted and tradition-encrusted magical social ritual. Gave something flat just a bit of effervescence. Of course, one of those per lifetime, at these sorts of things, might be just right. Wouldn't want a repeat."
"I won't, I won't, I swear," insisted Cordelia. She was making her case to Narcissa, but Narcissa thought Daphne would be a better arbiter.
"Cordelia, you might want to speak to Daphne about that," said Narcissa. "She has much more knowledge on these matters than either you or me."
Cordelia was startled enough to give a single, visible shudder.
"Daphne?"
"Mum?"
"Maybe I should have that coffee. Can you summon an elf?"
"Oh, why don't we get you up, Mum?" asked Daphne. "You'll feel better. Need a little comfort stop? The loo's just there."
Daphne and Narcissa got Cordelia's feet and legs reoriented before sliding their arms under her back and lifting. Cordelia wobbled back and forth a couple of times. Narcissa and Daphne flanked Cordelia until they got to the door to the bathroom.
"She has to get out of here," Daphne said after stepping away from the door. "We need to talk, witch to witch to witch, while she faces up to what she's done. That business outside fits into a mosaic that comes straight from her alcohol dependency. Now is the time to help her see that. No judgment."
"Where?" asked Narcissa.
"Dining room, sitting up, hard-backed chairs. You'll stay with us," Daphne said, finishing up.
When they had Cordelia downstairs and inside the dining room Daphne let Narcissa get her mother seated while she stepped out into the hall and ordered coffee and cups for everyone. Coming back inside, Daphne closed the double doors and wanded the lock. Narcissa caught the nuance. She glanced at Walburga before nodding at Daphne.
"Lady Daphne," she said, affirming her approval.
"Thank-you, Kreacher, just leave everything right there," said Daphne when Harry's elf arrived. "I'll be serving our guests."
Kreacher, as a house elf, didn't bother with locked doors when following his mistress' orders, and promptly vanished with a distinct 'pop.'
"How about black, Mother?" said Daphne. "You might not tolerate the milk and sugar right now."
"What are you going to do, Daphne? Lock me away?" Cordelia's tone was plaintive and accepting, all at once.
It would have broken hearts had both of her companions not passed through worse.
"No, Mother, you're a long way from needing to be locked away," said Daphne as she put two black coffees in front of Narcissa and Cordelia. "We're going to have a talk. There are some things we can't put off discussing any longer. We're all just witches in here, helping one another on life's journey."
Daphne didn't start throwing facts at Cordelia right away. She just sat close by, letting Narcissa smile and take Cordelia's hand now and then, letting Cordelia talk about whatever was on Cordelia's mind.
"I guess it wasn't funny, in that context," said Cordelia, more or less spontaneously. She looked out the dining room window at the grounds. "Such a lovely estate."
"Cyrus can lock it all up. He can keep the key," said Cordelia. "I trust we can open a bottle of some cheap Italian red when we have spaghetti?"
"That's not what you need to do, Mother," said Daphne.
"You're talking about going completely dry? I'll cut down! I just need one with spaghetti!"
"Mother, what happened this afternoon?" asked Daphne.
"Right, one, or possibly two too many," Cordelia began. "It was Astoria's lawn party, I wanted to celebrate with her. She's so happy to be marrying Draco, and becoming a Malfoy, too, Narcissa. It isn't about me, I just got a little too celebratory."
"You told us upstairs you couldn't face Astoria again," said Daphne. She let it hang there, something for Cordelia to consider.
"I don't know if I can do what you're asking," said Cordelia. "There is too much on my plate. We're working out of Cyrus' financial mess, he is no help anymore, he just sits there, I have to keep us on budget…"
Narcissa broke her silence.
"Cordelia, you have a strong, strong family. Daphne and Astoria are capable women. If Cyrus won't pitch in, your daughters can take up some of the slack. I will, of course, support them any way I can. Lucius Malfoy is not consuming one hundred percent of my time these days."
Daphne smiled at Narcissa, giving her a little nod of approval and thanks for the reinforcement.
"You need to give up alcohol, Mother," said Daphne. "You've enjoyed yourself for years and years, longer than most people get. Time's up, or we won't have you much longer."
"Daphne, I, since I was barely out of childhood, always had myself under control, never was a sloppy drunk…" stammered Cordelia.
"Oh, I know," said Daphne. "You could hold your liquor, couldn't you? That isn't the determining factor. That doesn't have anything to do with what is happening inside you. We have a program at St. Mungo's. The patient has to check in voluntarily. Two days for evaluation, another twenty-four hours during which you take a potion or two and discuss the results of your examinations with your healer. Witches and wizards are very lucky in that we have potions that begin working quickly to repair old damage. Muggles have a much rockier road ahead of them.
"You do have to stop drinking, though. That's what I meant by your time is up."
"What? What time is up?" demanded Cordelia.
"Your body is showing the signs of long-term abuse of alcohol," said Daphne. "I see a lot of it in my practice. The little red lines on your cheekbones? Those are little ruptured blood vessels. You're a bit distended in the abdomen. That's your liver. Your body is giving out. The good news is you still have time to put it all behind you. If you want to stay here with us a little longer."
Cordelia broke into sobs, buried her face in the crook of her arm, and went incommunicado. Narcissa lay her arm over Cordelia's shoulder and spoke softly in her ear.
"Listen to Lady Daphne, Cordelia, she is our expert. She wants to see you healthy again, so you can attend Astoria's wedding. Daphne's too, of course. I doubt she'll be willing to wait for very long, once Draco and Astoria are launched. Your girls need you here. Your husband does too, doesn't he? Do you want to get better?"
"Yes," sobbed Cordelia.
Daphne had been waiting for that "Yes."
"Can you sit here for a few minutes, Narcissa? I'd prefer if you could keep it to just you two. If the wizards show up, you're authorized to work some wiles, if you can keep it reasonable," said Daphne, on her way out the door.
When she got back from St. Mungo's, Daphne breezed into Potter Manor and went straight to the dining room. She was not pleased to see Cyrus and Astoria flanking Cordelia. Daphne wiggled her eyebrows at Narcissa, who shrugged. "What did you want me to do?" she appeared to ask.
Daphne didn't see any reason to dither so she just plowed ahead.
"Mother, I've just come from St. Mungo's, where I've arranged a bed for you in the unit we discussed. I would like for you to come with me, now. Your condition demands action, on your part," she said.
"Oh, Daphne, you were always our thespian," said Cyrus, almost chortling. "Every family needs one. Let's not make more of this than we need to. If you'll just help me get your mother back to Greengrass Manor, she can get a good, restful night's sleep and we'll all put this in perspective in the morning."
Daphne did her best to completely ignore her father and his irrelevancies. Turning to her mother she asked, "Mother, can I take you to St. Mungo's? It's all arranged. Why don't you come with me?"
"She said she wants to go home, Daphne. It's been a stressful day," Cyrus whined.
"Mother!" said Daphne. "There is no easy way to say this, Mother. Life, or death? You choose."
Walburga Black had been put away for decades and had lost some of the social polish she'd once had. She was becoming agitated, having to watch Cyrus Greengrass fumble about, intervening in matters in which he had no expertise, working at cross purposes to his brilliant healer daughter. Life or death? What's to choose? What was wrong with the blowhard? It wasn't long before Walburga decided she had heard enough.
"Everyone but Daphne can SHUT UP!"
The command rattled the crystals hanging off the chandelier. Everyone turned to look at Walburga and her lads.
"I beg your pardon?" huffed Cyrus. "Who are you? Daphne, who is this? Do portraits order living humans around in this house?"
"Father…" Daphne began.
"May I?" asked Narcissa. She didn't wait for Daphne's answer but tuned her voice to its most seductive band.
"Cyrus, dear, the lady in the portrait is Walburga Black, our grand dame of grand dames. She has more influence from her side of the Veil than most of us have from this side, so I beg your indulgence to gently suggest that you should do as Madam Walburga advises. It's really in your best interest. Now, Cordelia, Daphne thinks it is advisable for you to see her colleague and get evaluated. Lady Daphne is very learned and loves you very much, so she wouldn't steer you wrong, would she? Will you put yourself in her hands?"
Cordelia listened to Narcissa while staring at her face as if mesmerized. Something about the combination of reasonable communication, one on one, and Narcissa's slight smile backed by oceans of charisma worked wonders. What's more, Narcissa anointed her daughter Lady Daphne, a curious styling that implied hidden undercurrents between them. Months and months later, when Cordelia could talk about it all, she said that, in the course of Narcissa's summing-up, she realized Narcissa's was the voice she had been waiting and listening for.
"Of course, Narcissa, how could I not?" asked Cordelia.
She leaned forward, forearms on the dining table, and stood up.
"Let's go," she said. She looked Daphne straight in the eye. "Better hurry or I'll change my mind."
Narcissa and Draco waited with Harry for Daphne's return. Astoria wanted to stay with Draco so Cyrus hung around a little longer before going home alone.
"If she has time, will you ask Daphne to come by?" Cyrus asked Harry.
"Of course, Cyrus," Harry said. He walked Cyrus outside to the apparition point.
"Poor Mum," said Astoria when they had all reconvened in the salon
"Daphne will see she gets the best St. Mungo's can offer," said Narcissa. "She'll have to do a little work on her own. We'll all support her, won't we?"
The young people all concurred. While they waited for Daphne, Harry had Kreacher keep the carafes filled and hot, along with trays of leftovers from the lawn party.
"Miss me?" asked Daphne as she walked in the salon. "Oh, I see the party just moved in here. Where's Father?"
"Went home," said Astoria.
"He'd like a word," Harry added.
Daphne took a deep breath and blew it back out.
"Of course he would," she said.
Daphne spent the next half-hour talking with her sister, and her sister's prospective husband, about Cordelia's admission and her expectations once the evaluation and treatment phase of her recovery effort were past. Daphne sanitized several cases from her own experience, omitting names and anything more identifying than pronouns. The St. Mungo's program had a good record. At the same time, Daphne was honest about how the family had to understand the probability of a relapse or two was much higher than success the first time around.
Daphne went to Greengrass Manor with Draco and Astoria, as soon as Narcissa departed for the Malfoys.' She found Cyrus in his high-backed desk chair, sitting before a window and watching birds gliding through on the way to their roosts.
"Father?" Daphne said as she came in the study.
"Daphne!" said Cyrus. "Watching a few birds."
"I see," said Daphne, nodding at the bird guide and binoculars on the window sill.
"Something to drink?" Cyrus asked.
"I left a cup of tea half-full at Harry's," said Daphne. "What can I do for you this evening?"
"How is she?" Cyrus asked, with no segue. It was obvious to Daphne that it cost her father some pride to acknowledge, by asking, that he had to ask.
"Fine, right now," said Daphne. "The next few days will be really hard for her, although, with the potions they use in the unit the physical effects of withdrawal are well-moderated."
"What happened?" Cyrus asked. "She liked her wine with meals and a nightcap to get to sleep…"
"Don't blame yourself, Father," said Daphne. "We're responsible for our own actions, not the next person's, even if it is a family member. Mother didn't notice she had a problem until recently. She just tippled herself into a spot. Now she has to decide if she wants to move on. There are potions and programs that can help."
Cyrus sat quietly, staring out the window. Daphne pulled a chair around and joined him. Neither had anything to say right away.
"Did I do this? Did I do this to your mother?"
Cyrus' mutter was barely audible.
"No, she liked her wine long before she became involved with you," Father. "I won't breach any confidences but you can be sure the problem is Mother's. Is there anything you want to get off your chest?"
"Ahhh…I knew she was hitting it a little too hard," Cyrus said. "She was always so much fun to be around. It just escaped my notice the fun and a little glass of something or other always went together. She's mortified right now, about her performance at Potter's. Thinks Astoria will always see her the way she was, right there in front of the cream of Magical Britain."
"Father, there is no reason to concern yourself right now," said Daphne. "We all have plenty of work to do. Focus on that and let mother work with her healers for a few days. Besides, as you well know, the cream of Magical Britain harbors a disproportionate share of the total amount of vice on this island."
They chatted a little longer, then Daphne went to find Astoria, who was in the salon with Draco. Neither spoke although they raised their eyebrows together as if they'd been drilling since Daphne had left them. The combined effect was so funny-looking it made Daphne laugh.
"You two…" she tried, getting no further.
"How is she?" asked Astoria.
"Not good," answered Daphne. "We'll see what her exams show. The visible physical symptoms say she has something like twelve to eighteen months left to live at her current consumption level."
Astoria let out a gasp.
"A year? Mum has a year left to live?"
"Astoria, I'm going by the things I can see, not an exam or proper diagnostics," said Daphne. "But yes, the visible damage is consistent with a prognosis of a year to a year and a half. That is if she keeps going at her present pace."
"I never saw Lady Cordelia drunk," said Draco. "What happened?"
"It isn't necessary to get drunk," Daphne said. "Steady dawn-to-dusk drinking, day after day, is all it takes. Alcohol is poison and the effects are cumulative."
"I had no idea," said Astoria. Draco shook his head.
"Nor I," he said.
Draco reached across, took Astoria's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I should be getting home. Are you all settled in?"
"Daphne?" asked Astoria.
"Sure," said Daphne. "We'll manage."