AN: Thank you for all the kind words, favs and follows! Also, as you can see, we've decided to add dates to make the timeline of events and chapters clearer.

This chapter was written by me, StellaStarMagic.

May 17, 1998

Occupying her father's office in their ancestral home – Goldengrove – and making it into hers was painful for Daphne. It felt as if she was betraying or usurping him, but she knew that it had to be done. With their father dead and buried deep within their family crypt, she was next in line to manage the affairs of the family. Daphne wished that their Uncle Marius was here instead of galavanting about in Europe for the ICW, but she could respect his desire to walk his own path. She could also understand his reluctance when it came to handling family business; it was incredibly boring and dry work, after all. His help would have still been appreciated though.

Emptying the last of three small boxes containing her personal effects, Daphne placed her quill and ink bottle on the desk before plopping down on the well-padded leather chair with a small sigh. She let her eyes wander over the room, just taking everything in. The walls were intricately decorated, the various and colourful paintings on the marble preserved by magic. Her father had left the walls untouched and so would she, but she did have their house elf Piffy redecorate the room with a comfortable couch and a pair of armchairs. She also had her own desk brought to the office to replace her father's desk because she felt more comfortable working at hers. The family pictures her father used to have littered across his desk were some of the few things she had decided to keep.

A sad smile escaped her when she picked up a picture frame of all four of them together, smiling brilliantly at the camera. The invisible wind was billowing her father's robes and made her mother's hair dance wildly as it did hers and Tori's. Her mother laughed, soundlessly in the photograph, and tried to keep her golden locks out of her face.

Symeon Greengrass had been a stern, proud man, who had put a lot of stock into blood purity. Daphne had soaked it all up. Her mother, Aliénor Greengrass, had been much the same as her father. Here, in this picture, however, none of that mattered. They were just a family of four, happy, laughing, without a care in the world.

She had loved her parents; she had loved them dearly and with all of her heart and she was missing them terribly, but now, after the war, she began to wonder just how much of her and her sister's upbringing had been wrong? Astoria had been much more reluctant than her when it came to blood purity and the ideology in general and never before had Daphne been this grateful for anything in her life.

Her sister would have an easier time after the war, she was sure of it. Daphne, however, knew that she would struggle. Tossing the m-word around at her leisure, looking down upon the likes of Granger as if they were insects, joking at the terror muggle-borns and half-bloods must have felt when they were assigned detentions without ever questioning if there might be a kernel of truth to the rumours of torture – she had a lot to come to grips with and even more to work through. Astoria, bless her gentle soul, would have no such issues.

Daphne could only hope that the other students would see her sister for who she was and not for whom she was related to.

Exhaling tiredly, she placed the photograph back on her desk and got up from her chair. She moved over towards the couch and laid down on it, resting an arm on her forehead as she closed her eyes.

Daphne was now the head of her family. She had a seat in the Wizengamot and she owned several businesses now. It was a lot to wrap her head around. How was she supposed to handle all of these responsibilities? How was she supposed to finish her education?

"Daphne?"

"I'm in the study," she called out without moving an inch or opening her eyes.

She heard the pitter-patter of her sister's bare feet on the floor, getting closer to her new workspace.

"I see you are working hard," Astoria said teasingly as she moved towards the couch.

Daphne felt her feet being lifted before her sister sat down and placed them on her lap. She then moved her arm, opened her eyes and glanced at her little sister with a raised brow.

"You should not walk around with bare feet, Tori. You will only get sick again."

Astoria, taking more after their father with her black hair and sharply contoured beauty, rolled her blue eyes at her. "I know, I know." Looking around, her hands resting on her leg, Astoria heaved a shaky sigh. "You've moved in, then."

"...yes."

"I've gotten used to it, you know?" Astoria spoke softly. "I mean, the idea that...that they're gone."

"We don't know about mother yet," Daphne insisted gently. "She might still be alive."

"No one has seen her in months." Her sister turned to give her a small smile. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I know you, sister. You were never one for empty hope."

She huffed and slowly sat up next to Tori. Leaning against her sister, Daphne wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I don't want you to be sad."

"And I don't want you to be sad, but there is nothing we can do about it, is there?" She heard Tori sniffle delicately. "We are orphans now. Our parents are gone. We are supposed to be sad."

"I know, Tori."

Daphne sighed when her sister rested her head on her shoulder. The quiet of their home was almost oppressing and suffocating. And to think that, just a mere year or two ago, she had been among those who would laugh at Draco's and Pansy's orphan jokes targeted at Potter...it was cruel irony. Now she could only be ashamed of herself.

"Tori?"

"Hm?"

Daphne hesitated for a moment and it was, apparently, a moment too long. Tori retracted herself from her side and looked at her with questioning eyes.

She averted her gaze from her sister and fiddled with a sleeve of her robes. "Am I...am I a bad person?" she finally asked in a small voice.

Silence followed and Daphne dared a brief glance at her sister, the astonished and shocked expression forcing her to look away again.

"Why would you even ask such a thing, Daphne? This is not like you at all!"

She took a shaky breath and shrugged, not sure what to even say. Too many thoughts were wreaking havoc in her head, too much doubt was flooding her being.

"I've been...thinking a lot lately," she finally mumbled out, just barely audible enough for her sister to hear and understand.

"Well, clearly it has done you no good!"

"You're wrong, Tori," Daphne replied and shook her head. "I loved mother and father...I still do…"

"But?"

"They poisoned me with their ideas about blood purity."

Daphne looked at her sister and watched as understanding dawned on Tori's features. "That's what this is about?"

"Yes." Glaring at her lap, she scoffed angrily. "A war for proud pureblood families, led by a lunatic who was actually a half-blood, if Potter is to be believed. How many pureblood families have gone extinct in this blasted war? How many muggle-born children have been tortured and slaughtered? And I never cared. I was so up my own arse because of my pure blood and I just feel like…" She faltered and shrugged helplessly. "The more I think about my behaviour, the more I disgust myself."

"That...is a rather sudden change of heart, sister." Astoria scooted closer and took her hands in hers. "Not that I mind – I am proud of you! And I believe that you thinking and worrying about these things just proves that you are a good person."

"You really think so?" Even to her own ears did she sound childish, but she needed to hear that. Daphne needed to hear that she was not as terrible a person as the darkest recesses of her mind led her to believe. She needed to hear that she was redeemable.

"Yes." Tori's voice carried such conviction, it was more difficult not to believe her. "I love you, Daphne. You are my sister and you mean more to me than anything or anyone else. I look up to you and I wouldn't do that if I believed you to be a bad person."

No matter how hard she could have tried, she would have still been unable to prevent the sob from breaking through. And when Tori pulled her closer by their still joined hands before wrapping her arms around her, the floodgates opened. Her tears were flowing freely, her sobs wracked her body as she held onto her little sister for dear life.

Daphne loved her parents, she really did. However, if there was anything for her to be learned from this war, then it was that Symeon and Aliénor Greengrass had been so terribly wrong. Their pure blood had not been enough to protect them, after all. Their pure blood had been worthless in the end.

Everything she had been told and taught, everything she had thought she knew, everything she had been led to believe – all of it was lies or outright fabrications and coming to terms with that, accepting all of that...it was the single most difficult thing she had ever gone through in her life, right after hearing the news of her father's death.

May 21, 1998

"I don't know if I can go back to Hogwarts," Daphne announced a few days later during breakfast with Tori.

Her little sister looked disappointed but nodded while swallowing a mouthful of grilled mushrooms. "I expected this, to be honest. You can't possibly handle your education and being head of our family at the same time." She shook her head. "You'd burn yourself out within a week."

"I know. It annoys me because I really wanted to actually repeat my last year and finish it properly with proper teachers and a proper curriculum." Daphne stabbed a piece of sausage with vehemence and frustration. "I hate this. It's not fair."

"I agree, and I could help you with it if you would let me," Tori said with a helpless shrug.

"No," Daphne declined immediately, "too much stress is not good for you. You know that. I won't have this discussion again."

"Father had taught me, though!" Astoria protested, another piece of mushroom spared on her fork, forgotten halfway to her mouth. "I know what I have to do and the things I don't know you can teach me!"

Daphne rubbed her temples with frustration. "And risk you getting sick again? You know how delicate your health is, Tori. It's one thing to handle the responsibilities of being the Lady of your own family once you are married, but I won't subject you to splitting time between schoolwork and my responsibilities."

"When will you stop coddling me?!" Astoria snapped, violently dropping her fork onto her plate with a loud clink. She pushed her chair away from the table and stomped out of the room, leaving her breakfast barely touched.

Her appetite lost, Daphne stiffly got up as well. "Piffy, clean this up."

With a quiet pop, the house elf appeared, bowed, and went to work. Daphne walked through the vast open halls surrounding the courtyard of her home, a villa once inhabited by Romans, and kept well maintained and refurbished with magic by her ancestors and their ancestors over millennia. The Greengrass name was relatively young but Goldengrove had been their ancestral home since the Romans had set foot on the Isles. It was a lot of history and responsibility she was now carrying on her shoulders and all of it came much too soon. Being the head of the Greengrass family, being responsible for their home, being a sister and mother for Astoria, her own issues she was working through and many more things she didn't even want to think about – barely any time had passed since the end of the war and she was already feeling her knees buckling under the weight of its repercussions.

Instead of going outside, Daphne found her way to her father's – to her office and sat down on one of the armchairs, cradling her head in her hands as she allowed herself to groan in frustration.

She wished her parents were still here. She was not ready for any of this. She was far from being ready to handle any of this and all she wanted was to go back to Hogwarts and have a calm and quiet last year to finish her education properly.

A large eagle owl flying through the open window caught her attention and drew her away from her musings. Standing up from the armchair with a heavy sigh, Daphne walked over to her desk where the owl was patiently waiting for her to remove the letter from its outstretched leg.

Untying the letter, Daphne unrolled the parchment, turned away from her desk and began to read.

Her brows furrowed immediately in confusion, however upon reading the single word written on it. "'Hi'? That's it?" she said aloud.

"Is a simple 'hi' not good enough for you anymore, my darling niece?"

At the sound of the sudden voice from directly behind her, Daphne quickly turned around with a shriek, wide eyes, a frantically racing heart and her wand clutched in her hands, ready to hex the intruder into oblivion and beyond.

Standing next to the desk was a tall and lean man, dressed in elegant dark robes with black hair, neatly combed back, stray greying strands visible here and there, a rough stubble covering his face – her surprise was impossible to hide.

"Uncle Marius?!" At the sight of the cheshire grin and his mischievously sparkling amber eyes, she glared at him as she tried to calm her heart with her free hand over her chest. "You nearly killed me here!"

"You say that every time I scare you, or Tori, or my…" His grin immediately vanished and was replaced by utter devastation and sadness.

"...you know, then." Daphne lowered her wand and indicated the large couch, at which he nodded, sitting down before she joined him.

"Yes," he said, his voice thick. "I heard it not too long ago. I couldn't come sooner because portkey travel to England was impossible." Uncle Marius then looked at her, his shoulders slumped as he leaned heavily into the back of the couch. "I resigned as an ICW Obliviator. You girls need me here."

"That's – Uncle –" To say she was surprised would be an understatement. "I know how much you love your work. You really shouldn't have–"

"It's fine." He waved her concerns aside, before pulling her tightly into his side. "I promise, it's fine. I've had more than enough time to travel and see the different cultures I was so fascinated about when I was stationed in Romania. It's time to be responsible now, isn't it?"

"Uncle Marius!"

Daphne turned to see her little sister crossing the short distance between the door and the couch, throwing herself into their Uncle's other side so that he now ended up sandwiched between them.

"Merlin's shaggy beard, you've certainly grown, Tori!" their Uncle said with a chuckle.

"What are you doing here?" Tori asked excitedly.

"He resigned his post to help us here," Daphne explained.

"Really?" Astoria gave her an excited look, but the regret of her earlier outburst during their breakfast was still clearly visible. "You can return to school then, right?"

"I wouldn't want to just dump–"

"Stop, Daphne," her Uncle said firmly. "You couldn't graduate yet, could you?"

"No, but–"

"No buts. You will return to Hogwarts, you will graduate, while I handle things here in the meantime. It is high time that I step up and do what Symeon had wanted me to do for ages."

Daphne wanted this so much and she was happy that her Uncle was here, but she also felt bad to just dump everything on him. She knew how much he hated handling their family's business.

"You can at least share some of it with me," she offered. "I can help you."

Uncle Marius shook his head, pulled her close and pressed a kiss on her temple. "You go to Hogwarts and be a student. Understood? My brother would have my hide if I didn't do this for you," he added with a weak chuckle.

"He was always proud of you, you know?" Daphne spoke up, her voice low.

"I know." A moment of silence passed between them before he broke it again. "Are they buried in the crypt?" he asked them.

"Father is," Daphne answered with a shuddering breath. "Mother...just disappeared. No one has seen her or heard from her in months."

"I'm so sorry, girls," Uncle Marius whispered, tightening his arms around them. "I'm so sorry."

Tori sniffled gently, but Daphne did her best to remain stoic. There was nothing that could be done, nothing they could do to change it. Sadness was there and it weighed heavily in her heart and she doubted that it would ever completely heal, but the initial grief had already passed. As Tori had said a few days ago: acceptance had begun and they grew used to Goldengrove without Symeon and Aliénor Greengrass.

"I would like to properly say goodbye to my brother if you want to join me," their Uncle said as he got up from the couch.

She shared a glance with Tori and nodded. Standing up, they both followed Uncle Marius through the halls of their ancestral home and outside to the courtyard. Their estate was vast, with pools and gardens and just too much space for a family of two – or three now, with Uncle Marius.

Walking past a row of decorative pillars, they made their way in silence towards the crypt, which was at the far end of the estate and a relatively plain and small building, compared to the general extravagance of a Roman villa. It was barely more than a hut made of marble stone.

Upon reaching the entrance of the small building, Uncle Marius hesitated for a moment before visibly steeling himself with a deep breath. He pushed the heavy door open, lit the braziers with a flick of his wand and led them down a flight of stairs.

Daphne never liked this place and had avoided it whenever she could. Only whenever her grandparents' birthdays came around did she go down there to pay her respects, but, other than that, she kept her distance from the family crypt as much as possible. It was dark, cold and the stench of death was heavy in the stuffy air.

But now her father rested here and she would have to come more often. She missed him and she wanted him to know that Tori and she were doing well.

After reaching the end of the stairs, Uncle Marius ignited the braziers here as well and revealed the large underground room filled with heavy stone coffins. Rows upon rows of Greengrasses and their ancestors, leading back a millennium, were placed here and, one day, she would find her final resting place in this very crypt as well. It was an eery thought to have, but it just came to her whenever she entered this place.

Taking over from her Uncle, Daphne led them to a mostly empty row before pointing at a stone coffin and stepped to the side, allowing her Uncle to walk past her and in front of her father's resting place.

"Merlin," he breathed out, his voice rough and thick with grief. "It doesn't seem real until it is right in front of you…"

Daphne was a bit startled when she suddenly felt Astoria's hand tightly clasping hers. She glanced at her sister, who was stubbornly staring ahead, but the faint traces of wetness running down her cheeks betrayed her struggle to keep her composure.

"How did he die?" her Uncle asked with his hand resting on the cool and rough surface of her father's coffin.

"I can only tell you what Piffy witnessed," Daphne said with a sigh.

"Tell me."

Exhaling heavily, Daphne ran her free hand through her hair. "Some Death Eaters wanted father to fully commit to their cause. Father, while supporting them financially, didn't want to give up his independence. He didn't want to be marked as the Dark Lord's slave and called them idiots, apparently. They took offence and killed him."

"And what became of those Death Eaters?" her Uncle asked, his fingers clenching into a tight fist atop the coffin. Barely restrained fury coloured his voice. "Do you know who they were?"

"I don't know, Uncle. I'm sorry."

Silence settled in the crypt. Only their breathing was audible and Tori's sniffles.

"Rumour has it the Dark Lord was a half-blood," her Uncle spoke up again.

"If Harry Potter is to be believed, yes. It was all over the Prophet. Tom Marvolo Riddle was his supposed name."

Uncle Marius chuckled without humour, his gaze locked onto the ceiling of the crypt. "And you believe that half-blood?"

Daphne didn't answer at first, but her little sister urged her with a squeeze of her hand. "Yes, Uncle. I believe Harry Potter."

"You understand the implications of doing so?"

"Yes."

Again, a moment of silence passed between them before Uncle Marius broke it once more with a slow nod. "Then I trust your judgement, I suppose."

"...thank you, Uncle."