Chapter Seventeen: The Morning After
Why? Why for once could she not just be a normal person and react in a normal way? Questions that had no answers raced around Daphne's mind as she stared at her breakfast. Ever since Harry had left she had been demanding answers of herself, reasons for why she had just let him leave instead of explaining to him just what had caused her outburst in the first place. It was him. Harry. He was the reason she was so nervous and worried about the experiment. Normally the people that were at risk were people she didn't know and that allowed for a certain amount of distance. But not this time. No, because for whatever stupid reason she had told herself Daphne had been convinced she could split work and her personal life. But as the time got closer and closer her fears had increased. Instead of letting Harry know this though, or even admitting it to herself until it was too late, she had lashed out at him. Fear of losing him and perhaps been the thing that had actually pushed him away. Great job, Daphne berated herself glumly as she pushed away her untouched food.
"Good morning," Daphne's father said brightly as he walked into the kitchen, the paper under his arm and a grin on his face, a grin which dissolved as soon as his eyes fell on his daughter. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Daphne tried. She was lying… again. Because it had worked so well last time. It was like a reflex; she couldn't help it. She sighed, rubbing her temple and turning to look at the worried face of her father. "Actually, no. It is something."
"What happened?"
"Harry and I kind of got into a fight," Daphne said in an attempt to explain.
"Over?" Her father prompted, taking a seat next to her.
"Today," Daphne answered, "I told him I was nervous about it and he asked why and I couldn't tell him. But he kept pushing and pushing and I get that he was just trying to be nice -"
"But it just pushed you too far," Daphne's father finished. She nodded, not wanting to admit it out loud. It was stupid, she'd been stupid. All Harry had done was to try and help and she had bitten his head off in return. She had just wanted him to leave it alone, but true to form Harry had been incapable of doing what he was told.
"Why were you nervous?" He asked gently, probing as delicately as he could.
"I don't want it to go wrong," Daphne explained.
"But I thought you said it was safe?" her father replied, somewhat confused.
"It is," Daphne said exasperatedly. For an exceptionally intelligent man he could also be amazingly dense at times. Was it really that difficult?
"Then what's the problem?"
"Harry. Every time I think about it, I keep wondering what if something happens to him?"
"Oh," her father said, the fog of confusion lifting from his mind and being replaced with evident concern and understanding. Of course he understood, it was the same conversation that Daphne had overheard her parents have countless times: her mother worried and scared that every time that he left the house he might not be coming back. Daphne hadn't understood at the time but now she was putting someone she cared about in danger it was impossible not to see where her mother had been coming from. "Why not just tell him?"
"Have you met Harry? He'd just worry and want to fix it like he always does. But, that'd just make it worse." Daphne explained. She didn't want to have to face his concern and his worry. He would have wanted to stay, to talk it out and make her face up to her fears; the last thing that she wanted to do. So instead of being rational and logical, she had exploded and pushed him away.
"Do you think he'll still come today?" Her father asked, filling the silence that had dragged out between them.
"I don't know, maybe." Daphne shrugged in reply. In all honesty she didn't have a clue whether he would. He was doing it as a favour to her, but would he still want to after last night? "We didn't really talk it out, he just sort of left."
"He'll be there," her father assured her. "He doesn't strike me as the kind of man who quits just because everything isn't perfect."
"The phrase you're looking for is stubborn," Daphne told him a little bitterly. As much as she was frustrated and angry at herself for her reaction, she also couldn't shake her annoyance with Harry for not backing down despite her asking him to.
"You're hardly one to talk,"
"Thanks Dad, because that's really what I need to hear right now," Daphne said sourly, doing her best to ignore the fact that he had a point.
"I think it is; the only reason all this happened is because you didn't want to tell him you were scared about today going wrong." When Daphne didn't say anything he continued, "Do yourself a favour and tell him. Today, before all this happens. He'll understand."
"And if he doesn't?"
"If everything you've told me about him is true, I think he will." Her father said. "But if he doesn't, then he probably just needs time to calm down. You'd be amazed what a little time to think can do. Speaking of time, don't you have somewhere to be?"
Daphne frowned and then glanced at the clock on the wall. Her bitter reverie had caused her to completely lose track of the time and instead of being early for her own experiment she would have to rush to even manage to get there to see it happen. Rushing had never been her strong suit and by the time she made it to the unsurprisingly packed atrium Daphne had mere minutes to get down to the Department of Mysteries. This resulted in pushing, shoving and bad-tempered lift ride in which she was sure almost every single other Ministry employee shuffled to the other side of the lift so as to ensure that they didn't have to meet her dark glower. For the first time she hated just how far down the Department of Mysteries was. Usually she enjoyed its location as it meant she could be left alone, detached from the rest of the Ministry but today was a different matter.
"You're late," Luidhard informed her when she arrived out of breath and almost out of time. He was standing outside the door to the observation room.
"Really? I hadn't noticed," Daphne retorted angrily, venting her own annoyance at herself onto her uncharismatic and infuriating superior. She ignored his spluttering and attempts to assert his authority and instead turned to the door to her right and headed inside the lab. It was just as she had left it the previous day, a single chair sat alone in the middle of the room, every other piece of furniture had been removed except for a wide table which stood against the far wall. On the table was the culmination of months and months of work: her time-turner. The metal of the outer edges shone and gleamed in the light as two Unspeakables examined it with their wands, making sure that everything was in order.
In the centre of the room stood Miller, his robes missing as usual and his face as unlikely as ever to crack a smile. He turned at the sound of the opening door, giving Daphne the slightest of nods before returning to going through the protocols and procedures with the man in the chair- Harry. So he had come after all. His emerald eyes stayed fixed on the ground as Daphne entered, but she had expected nothing less.
Daphne turned her attention to the men and women standing behind the glass that protected the observation room. Most of them were other Unspeakables who had come to watch, but some were the heads of various other departments who had a potential interest in her work, Daphne vaguely recognised a few of them, others were completely new to her but one particular woman stood out from the crowd: Hermione Granger, head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation. The potential far-reaching consequences of Daphne's work would, of course, draw the interest of other nations. No doubt that was where Hermione came in, but her appearance did little to calm Daphne's mood. No pressure.
"How is it looking?" Daphne asked taking a somewhat tentative step into the middle of the room.
"Normal," was all Miller said in reply, passing Daphne a sheet of paper. She didn't bother to look at it, she knew what it was. Before every test the person undertaking it was first subjected to a routine medical. It was nothing out of the ordinary but it covered the department in case they had any pre-existing medical issues.
"As I was saying," Miller continued, turning back to Harry, "this is experimental technology, we cannot guarantee your safety. Your continued participation in this experiment shows that you are aware of any potential risks to your person. Are you sure that you wish to continue?"
"Yes," Harry nodded.
"Do you have any questions?" Miller asked, as he had to. It was all part of the procedure. Daphne knew that by this point Harry had already signed his waver, meaning that he couldn't sue the department if anything went wrong and the was accepting the risks of dealing with experimental technology. Verbal confirmation was necessary as Miller would have then gone on to explain the various potential ramifications. Next, Daphne knew, came the test itself.
"No," Harry answered.
"Very well then, Civet, if you wouldn't -"
"Actually, I'd like a word with Harry before we start," Daphne interjected, noting the way Harry's face went tight and his jaw clenched. So much for having calmed down. But her father was right. She needed to say it anyway, leaving it would only cause him to fester on it and that helped no-one.
"You are aware that Luidhard wanted this done as quickly as possible?" Miller asked, arching an eyebrow. It wasn't an objection, merely a statement of fact.
"It's time-travel, what's a minute going to matter when all this is done?" Daphne countered.
"Very true," Miller nodded, his eyes shifted to Civet who seemed desperate not to catch the uncouth Unspeakable's eye, but to no avail. Daphne was sure that she saw Civet mutter what her family would call uncivilised language as Miller strode over and began demanding a thorough run through of his preparation with the time-turner.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," Daphne began while Miller irately and patronisingly went through Civet's work, much to Civet's annoyance. "You know, after everything."
"Yeah, well I promised, didn't I?" Harry shrugged trying to make his words as noncommittal as possible.
"I'm sorry," Daphne said quickly, the words tumbling out of her mouth. "About last night, I shouldn't have -"
"Bitten my head off?" Harry provided somewhat bitterly.
"Yeah," Daphne finished lamely, her eyes sinking to the floor and a sign escaping her lips. It hadn't been her proudest moment. She could still clearly see the look on his face, the hurt at first which had slowly turned to resignation. She hated the fact that she had done that to him. She wished she had followed him, let him know just why she'd reacted like she had. But her anger had been in control, blaming him for not leaving well alone and then her stubbornness and her pride hadn't allowed her to follow.
"It's fine," Harry said, shrugging again and in a voice which clearly indicated that it was anything but fine.
"No, it wasn't." Daphne protested. "Look, Harry, I know I can be difficult, and it wasn't anything you'd done, I was just -"
"What's the delay?" Interrupted a voice from the doorway: Luidhard. Of course it was him. Daphne didn't bother hiding her glower as she turned to him. Could he not just leave her alone for once? "These people have had to put a lot on hold to come down here, Greengrass."
"I understand that Sir but -"
"No buts, whatever it is sort it out on your own time." Luidhard snapped. "Civet, Miller, get this done. I want no more delays, Greengrass. Do I make myself clear?" When Daphne didn't reply, he spoke again. "Greengrass?"
"Yes sir," Daphne said through gritted teeth. She hated taking orders, especially from a self-centred git like Luidhard. He had always taken against her because he had convinced himself that she coasted through on her family name. Daphne hated him because he insisted on micro-management and results while at the same time having a worse personality that Narcissa Malfoy.
He gave a little nod and hurried away, no doubt to go and assure various department heads that they weren't wasting their time. Typical nonsense, Daphne thought sourly.
"We'll talk about it later, I promise," was all she was able to say before being asked by Civet to take a step back and allow them to conduct her experiment. For once, Daphne did as she was told. There was no point in arguing. It wouldn't get her anywhere but further away from the test. Luidhard would see to that.
From her place at the room's edge Daphne watched as Civet put the time-turner over Harry's head, being delicate and precise so as not to accidentally knock anything. Miller's voice was dull and loud as he explained to the on-lookers what was about to happen. Harry would disappear, then reappear in a full minute, travelling forward in time. This would then be repeated with longer intervals to prove definitively that it worked.
Daphne zoned this out; she had heard it all before. Hell, she was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Her eyes remained fixed on Harry. Despite all her talk that this was perfectly safe doubts were beginning to creep in at the back of Daphne's mind. But it was safe. They had done all the checks, all the tests, background checks, everything. Nothing had been left to chance. Nothing. But the blurred line between professional and personal was causing her mind to race.
"Commencing in ten, nine, eight," Miller counted.
She was being stupid, there was nothing that could go wrong. Nothing. So why did Daphne feel so sick? Why did she want to call a halt to all of this? She could, it was her right, her damned experiment. Merlin she wanted to. But she stayed where she was, watching frozen as the countdown began and time began to run out. She had never felt like this. Never.
"Seven, six, five,"
It was different this time. She didn't want to risk Harry: he was important to her. It might have started out as nothing more than a whimsical way to pass a boring party but it had morphed into something more. Something that mattered. It was why she had snapped at him, why she had shouted. She didn't know any other way. It was the reason her family resented her and she had nearly pushed her sister away at the thought of her becoming a Malfoy. Instead of talking through her issues Daphne preferred to ignore them, make biting remarks or sarcastic comments to push past the pain that she felt.
"Four, three,"
It was stupid. She had been stupid and Harry deserved better. Why couldn't she just have told him? It had been a reflex, an attempt to try and push the problem away so that she didn't have to deal with it. Just like she always did. The thought of what she would do if she lost him terrified her. He meant more to her than she suspected he knew. He had a right to know and to know why she had lost her temper and lashed out. After all this was over she would tell him.
"Two, one."
And with that, Harry Potter vanished.
AN: So that's this chapter done, I know it's a lot shorter than usual but it was originally intended to be the final part of the last chapter. However, it didn't feel like the natural end so now it's a chapter on it's own. Hope you all like it.
