Chapter 3: Gluttony
Daphne half-ran and half-walked down the long dungeon corridor. She was trying desperately to find somewhere she could hide in misery and disappear from the world for a while, and had thought the dungeons to be the perfect place - most students were too petrified of the thought of being discovered by Snape to wander the corridors during out-of-school hours.
How dare he! she thought furiously to herself, and even more furiously she rubbed at her eyes which were stinging with unshed tears.
Less than an hour ago her boyfriend of four months, Marcus Belby, had sat her down at a window near the charms classrooms and spoken those four words that every girl dreads:
"We need to talk".
He had then proceeded to use every break-up cliche Daphne had ever heard, from the line "it's not you, it's me", to "you deserve better" and even "let's be friends".
And she was furious, and hurt, and confused, and full of a thousand other emotions that she could neither name nor isolate.
Her insides were completely tattered with feelings that she didn't know how to even start to untangle.
Finally finding a door to an unlocked classroom she let herself in and sat down, putting her head on the desk in front of her and finally breaking into sobs.
She didn't know how much time had passed when he came to find her.
Blaise.
She heard the door creak open and when she glanced up she found him standing in the doorway, looking at her with sympathy.
She sniffed, still hiccuping with sobs. She knew her nose was snotty, her hair was a mess and her face would be blotchy and red after crying so hard and for so long.
And though Daphne would never be seen in such a state normally, she truly didn't mind Blaise seeing her this way. He was her closest friend, and she had supported him through his toughest times, even through his own girlfriend issues. And in return he was always there when she needed him too.
He pulled a chair over to where she was sitting, and cradled her in his arms. She buried herself in his shirt and burst into fresh sobs from wounds that were still raw.
They had had a difficult year this year. Fifth year was difficult for anyone, between studying and student rivalries, and with the awful intrusion of the Ministry through that cow of a woman, Umbridge it was without doubt her most awful school year to date.
She hated the depressing atmosphere that lingered in the hallways. She hated that the headmaster, who once seemed so untouchable, now seemed to have been beaten by a fat bigoted toad. She had never really liked Dumbledore. Anyone who had grown up in the wizarding world who had parents like hers, telling her stories of the past without bias, couldn't help but regard the wizened old man with some degree of suspicion.
She had never worked out exactly what his role had been in the war against Grindleward. And although she acknowledged that he had led the light in the war against You-Know-Who, and thankfully had seen the war ended, she had heard stories, murmurs and rumours, about the ways he approached certain situations. She had a suspicion that what Dumbledore wanted, Dumbledore got. And from what she could infer he did not mind which strings he had to pull, or which tales he had to weave, in order to get others to do what he wanted them to without realising their actions were being scripted for them.
Despite all this misery life had continued, and she had tried to make the best of it. She had attracted the attention of Marcus, a sixth year in Ravenclaw, and had been having fun learning how to use the pull off her femininity to her advantage. She loved the way that certain actions, a flick of the hair here or a small gesture there, could drive Marcus to do whatever she wanted him to.
She had to admit she liked the power it gave her.
And being in Slytherin she had been allowed to get up to a certain amount of mischief under Umbridge's nose. She knew it was unfair, but she had been using it to her advantage. She was able to sneak out past curfew to rendezvous with Marcus, stealing secret kisses behind tapestries and discovering little alcoves she never knew existed.
Once they had even found a room containing the most beautiful soft floor pillows and a fireplace. They had cuddled amongst the soft silk pillows and talked for hours about everything and nothing. That had certainly been an evening to remember, even though they hadn't been able to re-discover it again.
She wasn't naive enough to think she loved him though. She would never be so stupid as to fall in love with someone without weighing the consequences.
And Marcus, although lovely, wasn't what she wanted as a lifelong partner. Although he came from a good family, he himself seemed to lack a certain quality that she knew she needed in whoever she ended up settling with. She needed someone who understood these Slytherin qualities in her. She needed someone who knew what it was like to put family stature above all else. And she needed someone who, like her, knew how to pull the threads of wizarding society in a way that suited them.
Even so, being dumped was not a pleasant feeling.
She felt horrible. It was awful to know that she wasn't wanted - even if Marcus wasn't what she wanted in her life it was mortifying to be told that he didn't want her either.
She breathed in the scent of Blaise, a deep oaky scent that made her think of warm fires and soft couches and hugs. It was having quite a calming effect on her, and she was finally able to slow her breathing down to a steady pace.
He gave her shoulders a squeeze, and wordlessly they both stood and he led her back to the dormitories where she silently disappeared up to her bed to lie down behind the curtains and sleep out the tears.
Two days later Daphne was feeling much better.
She had decided that if Marcus didn't want to continue dating her it was his loss. He had no idea what he was missing out on.
She had spent a good twenty-four hours mourning their relationships, dodging the sympathetic looks she was getting from the other girls in the dormitory, and trying hide from Lavender Brown who was on a gossip-collecting mission.
After that she had pulled herself together. Made herself look at herself in the mirror and reminded herself who she was, where she came from, and where she was going. Reminded herself that she was worth a thousand Marcus Belbys.
And life had settled back into its' old routine of lessons and homework.
So when one night after dinner she saw Blake beckon her to the common room entrance she shrugged and followed. He led her out of the common room, leading her by the hand through the twists and bends of the castle until finally they arrived up at the Astronomy tower.
He sat her on the window seat, still without saying a word.
With a flourish of his hands he pulled out an enormous box of gourmet chocolates from behind his back.
She grinned.
They were her favourites, and she knew that he must have pulled some strings to get them. They were sold in a tiny little muggle shop in a backwards lane in Paris, and as children on their birthdays Daphne's mother used to give them each one chocolate to savour.
Blaise grinned back.
And for the rest of the night, until the first light of dawn started to appear on the horizon, she and Blaise sat on the window of the astronomy tower devouring chocolates and trading secrets and stories.
And Daphne couldn't help but think that, without question, and despite the occasional stupidity of boys, life could sometimes be pretty perfect.