Web: DaphneTracey
Word Count: 563
"Your makeup looks terrible," Tracey says, sitting beside Daphne. She sets her lavender bag on the table.
Daphne can't even bring herself to smile. Her green eyes shift, taking the empty common room. Most of the Slytherins haven't come back to help with rebuilding the school. So many in their House are still treated with hostility.
"I'm not wearing makeup," Daphne says dryly. "That's just my face."
She knows she looks rough. The war is finally over, and maybe she can start healing. Maybe. It feels like it will never happen. Nightmares haunt her dreams every night, and she is reminded again and again that they've lost so damn much. She thinks that maybe she would have been luckier if she'd died during the battle. At least then she wouldn't be struggling, unable to heal.
"I got you something." Tracey leans forward and opens her bag. She pulls out a packet of Pepper Imps. "Your favorite."
Daphne accepts. She almost smiles as she opens the box and takes one out. "Thank you," she says, putting one in her mouth. Her whole body grows warm, and she lets out a satisfied moan. "My savior."
Tracey chuckles. "What can I say? I see a pretty girl in need of comfort, and I can't resist."
A fresh wave of warmth washes over her, and it has nothing to do with the candy in her mouth. She and Tracey have done this dance countless times, always will they or won't they, but they've never taken that giant step.
Tracey's expression grows serious. "I know you aren't okay."
Daphne groans. "Please don't waste your breath."
She isn't like most of her Housemates. While most of them remained neutral or actively supported the Carrows and their cause, Daphne had actively fought against them. She had been the only Slytherin in Dumbledore's Army. To say that she isn't okay is an understatement.
Not only has she fought. Not only has she been left scarred and broken from this war. People continue to whisper about her and look at her like she's scum. She's lost people on both sides–Crabbe's death had hurt just as much as Colin's–but she is regarded as a monster.
And the worst part is that she has no right to complain.
"Come here."
Before Daphne can even register what's happening, Tracey pulls her into a warm hug. It's the safest Daphne has felt in so long. All the tension and anxiety seem to melt away. She doesn't even realize she's crying until Tracey pulls away, frowning.
"Hey," she says softly, wiping the tears from Daphne's eyes. "What's all this hullabaloo?"
Daphne snorts, lips twisting into a smile. It's been so long since she's smiled, and the subtle quirk of her lips aches her jaw. "I can't be sad if you're saying things like hullabaloo," she says.
Tracey smirks, seemingly pleased with herself. "That's the plan." She reaches into her bag once again and pulls out a pumpkin pasty. "Another treat."
"You're spoiling me," Daphne says, accepting the the little hand pie and peeling away the napkin wrapped around it.
"You can make it up to me by taking me on a date," Tracey tells her.
The war is over, and they have such a long way to go. Still, Daphne thinks that maybe she's finally on the right path, and maybe everything will be okay one day.