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Chapter 4

All is Not Lost

March 1988

Daphne's bare feet numbed from the frigid marble as she ran after her father. Astoria was crying in her mother's arms when a violet streak rumbled the parlor and burning smoke whirled around them. Daphne backed away, her hands covering her mouth and nose until she could breathe again. There was a hysterical shout to duck and then a sickening scream. She stumbled to the ground as dark red blood - Daphne didn't kid herself, flooded from the doorway of the clouded room. Crawling out of it's reach, her spine came in contact with a hard surface and her hands unwillingly dipped into the still warm, sticky liquid as she jumped up. It was only the front door. Daphne's head spun back upon registering Astoria's whimpering pleas for help, making her edge forward in preparation to run to her, but a second later the killing curse was yelled and she bit her tongue hard to stifle a scream. Her sister was dead.

"Mum, she's having nightmares again." Draco Malfoy, dressed in his silver pajamas, pointed at the withering girl hidden partially between the cloud-like bed covers as his other hand hid a rather large yawn.

Narcissa tugged at her silk nightgown as she sat down, worry etched on her porcelain face. With a gentle touch, her fingers brushed over the young girl's pale forehead, "Daphne - come on, sweet doll, wake up."

Light brown eyes ingrained with fear opened wide and then snapped closed, tears skimming along full lashes. A broken whisper, "Place a silencing charm on my room - I have woken you all for the fifth time now."

Narcissa instantly wrapped her arms around her goddaughter's shoulders and made a note to owl Severus to brew another batch of Dreamless Sleep. "Shh. Do not think of such a thing, Daphne. We were already up."

Draco eyed the hugging pair tiredly, "I was asleep until you started screaming."

"Draco," Lucius warned from the doorway.

Daphne turned to face her friend, "Can you forgive me, Drake?" Her shaking fingers fluttered over the strands of hair that had escaped from her loose braid during the night.

The blond boy's grey eyes rolled to the stars and back, "Don't I always?"

"You do." Daphne smiled haughtily, the back of her hand brushing over her cheek to sweep her tiredness away and the memory along with it. "You have no other choice."

Draco grumbled out a remark when his mother laughed at his expense.

A soft pop announced the presence of Narcissa's house elf. Daphne glanced at the creature. Was she expected to manage the Greengrass elves now given the circumstances? Technically, she wouldn't be Lady Greengrass until she was of age, so she supposed that everything was under the Malfoy's jurisdiction at present anyways. It was a thought that brought her relief, for she was only eight years old and she wouldn't know what to do with all the responsibility.

"Good morning, Mistress. An owl came early for you, carrying these." The elder female elf handed her godmother a wax sealed letter and a sweet white bouquet of gardenias, chrysanthemums and a few sprigs of lilac.

Daphne's gaze lingered curiously on the flowers. Their meaning of innocence and new beginnings not going unnoticed by her; she learned the symbolic interpretation of flowers and what each color represented from an early age. It was a bit silly, Daphne thought, as some flowers meant rejection, and why anyone would send them in the first place was beyond her.

"Lucius! He - he signed!" Narcissa hurried over to her husband, the look of rapture on her face accentuating her beauty, and she passed him the letter before remembering the bouquet in her grasp.

"These," She held the gold paper wrapped stems out for Daphne to take, "are for you, my dear."

Daphne sat up, hope coursing through her. Her fingers hovered over the delicate velvet textured petals, and her eyes scanned for any hint of who had sent them. Could it be, that after all her godparent's efforts and a month long wait, someone worthy of her godmother's approval had agreed to be her betrothed?

She watched her godfather take his leave, letter in hand, the faintest grimace-like smile on his lips.

Draco folded his arms, the air of impatience around him clear and testing enough to merit a frown, "Mother, what -"

It was notable that for once, and naturally so, Daphne's impatience rivaled his, "Cissy, did someone - agree -" She shook her head and rephrased her question, "Could you please tell me who sent the flowers?"

Narcissa's eyes widened marginally, and she reached to grasp the girl's hand, "Oh, you poor thing. I would've told you days ago, but I wanted to be sure." She paused for effect, "You've been arranged to marry Sirius Black."

Daphne raised the flowers to her nose to hide her blushing cheeks. The whole situation had been the last thing on Daphne's mind in the topsy-turvy past couple of weeks she'd endured. Though, she had been raised with the idea of arranged marriages; the finality of the betrothal did not frighten her, and she was delighted in that moment.

Other adult wizards she'd come in contact with barely ever acknowledge her presence - to them, she was just a decorative object, a doll. And if by the rare occurrence they decided to strike up a conversation, Daphne was often left with an uncomfortable feeling from their demanding, ill-intentioned charm and lingering touches.

Sirius Black, however, was the definition of a perfect gentleman, at least in her mind he was. For although she'd been distraught during their first interaction, Daphne remembered how genuinely kind and selfless he had been.

"How did you manage it, godmother?" As soon as the words were out in the open, panic sparked within her when an idea popped into her head, "You - you didn't force your cousin into signing or guilt trip him, did you?" Daphne loved her godmother, but the woman nearly always got what she wanted one way or another. It was a smart trait she'd picked up on and tried out in practice, but even she knew that a resentful, bitter filled husband would only bring misery - her parent's marriage had been a prime example of a failed pairing.

Narcissa laughed, she was fond of Daphne's wittingly keen mind too much to dare berate her for such bluntness. Her lips pulled into a rueful smirk, her voice thick, "That man couldn't be forced into doing anything, my sweet."

Daphne's eyes sparkled with gratitude and relief, "So, what happens now?"

"I go back to sleep, and you don't wake me up, Daph." Draco gave her a weighty look and shuffled out the door. "You're not getting married yet."