Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.R.

AN: This story is part of the Halloween Collection of the Haphne discord server. You can find the other stories here.

community/HarryDaphne-Collection/133850/99/0/1/0/0/0/0/

If you are interested in Haphne and want to join the fun, go to

discord dot gg/pKSdvJQvhU

Just delete the spaces and replace 'dot' with '.' after you copy and paste into your browser.

We're pretty open to other shippers, so you are welcomed, no matter which pairing you prefer.

This story is from a multiple pov. I will change the pov by chapter, so this means sometimes very short chapters. Don't tell me you've not been warned. ;) I'll try to post a couple of chapters at a time if they are too short.

Many thanks to Federer Rex for beta-ing this chapter.

Higgins took a deep swig from his tankard, oblivious to Harry who had stiffened beside him.

Greengrass had talked to Malfoy? Was she the last who saw him? Cold fingers gripped around Harry's heart as his Auror instincts kicked in, and his participation in the lively conversation of the ghosts became monosyllabic while he pondered the implications of what Higgins had told him.

Damn, he hated to think she might have had a hand in Malfoy's disappearance. Yet his training had taught him never to rule out anyone before he had collected all available evidence. He heaved a frustrated sigh.

The ghosts excused themselves one by one, and soon enough Harry was alone again in the restaurant and left to his brooding. Damned Malfoy, he'd always been a pain in the arse. Why couldn't the bastard stop annoying him?

The opening of the door interrupted his thoughts. Greengrass walked into the room, followed by the young waiter. Harry took a breath to center himself, stood up and held a chair out for her. It wouldn't do to let on that Higgin's revelations had thrown him for a loop.

She thanked him with a smile as she sat down. Harry ordered their wine. His eyes followed the young waiter leaving the restaurant, glad for a distraction, and he frowned.

"He looks familiar, although I can't place him. It's been bothering me all night."

"That's Sebastian Abbott, Hannah's younger brother. You remember Hannah?"

"Of course I do. She was in our year, and she is engaged to one of my closest friends. I knew she had younger siblings, but I don't think I ever met Sebastian."

"He was a firstie when we were in our seventh year."

"That explains it," Harry said. "I dropped out that year."

Greengrass opened her mouth as if to comment on that. However, he didn't feel like trading war stories. "Did you know she's engaged to Neville Longbottom?"

She smiled, distracted from whatever she'd been going to say. "Of course I do. Hannah is my second cousin. She asked me to be her maid of honour."

Harry's eyebrows shot up at that. "Did she? Seems we're going to see a lot of each other, then. Neville asked me to be his best man the other day."

That led to an animated conversation about the upcoming nuptials and from there to old classmates and what became of them, and they soon were on a first name basis. Talking to Daphne was surprisingly easy, and Harry laughed out loud more than once at one of her sarcastic comments about her former housemates.

"You seem not to have much love for your former housemates," he said.

Daphne shrugged and took a sip of wine. "Why should I? They treated me like dirt because my family still has to work for their gold instead of living off their estates or stolen treasures. Malfoy was the worst of them, I was glad when I could leave after my OWLs." The moment the words were out, she stiffened, apparently she had realised that the elephant of Harry's informal investigation of Malfoy's disappearance was back in the room.

Harry cursed inside. Damned, he'd planned on introducing Higgin's information in a roundabout way and catching her off guard. If he brought up the matter of Malfoy's disappearance right now, she'd close off completely and most likely would end their conversation. He had to try another angle.

"And yet you married your sister off to him," he said in a light tone, picked up his glass, and watched her reaction over the rim as he pretended to take a sip.

Her eyes darkened. "I had no other choice. Tori was pregnant and refused to have an abortion, the pregnancy worsened her condition, and grandmother went into hiding as soon as the war started, I was in France, working as an apprentice for a muggle-chef and earning very little, so we didn't have enough gold to pay for the advanced treatment she needed during the pregnancy. No, Malfoy had caused her worsening condition, so he had to pay for it. Morgana is my witness, I have regretted that decision every single day since."

"You couldn't know how their marriage would turn out. After all, he must have loved your sister once, or—uh—Scorpius wouldn't be here today."

"Love had little to do with it." Her cheeks flushed, and she put her glass down rather forcefully. Some wine sloshed on the tablecloth and left a dark stain.

"Well, I thought—"

"It was rape, there is no other word for it." The colour on her face deepened, and her brows knitted together in a deep frown.

An eyebrow raised in a silent question was all it took to open the floodgates.

"I don't deny that Astoria was smitten with him and loved his attention. She was fifteen, for crying out loud. However, it wasn't anything more than puppy love, and she never would have acted upon her feelings back then, while he was already an adult and well-versed in the game, if you know what I mean. He and Pansy have been at it since our fourth year."

Harry made a face. "Too much information!"

"That's what I said to Pansy each time she gushed over their exploits," Daphne said with a wry grin. "My point is, he knew what he was doing. Astoria told me he persuaded her to have a glass of wine with him a day or two before the Battle of Hogwarts. She was flattered by his attention and accepted, and the next thing she knew was that she woke up the next morning and couldn't remember a thing, but her roommates teased her that she couldn't keep her wine and Draco had to carry her to their bedroom."

"That sounds like a k.o. potion to me," Harry said.

"Very likely. Astoria discovered her pregnancy two weeks later. By that time, the Dark Lord was already dead and the Malfoys tried to salvage out of the ruins of his downfall what they could to save their wealth and keep Lucius and Draco out of Azkaban. That story becoming public while the Ministry was investigating their participation in Voldemort's reign of terror would have meant a sure one-way-ticket to Azkaban for Draco. I used that against them and thought myself very clever. I never would have thought that Draco would refuse to file for divorce, and I regret each day that I condemned my little sister to live with him. The way he treats her is appalling."

"Do you know why he refuses to file for divorce?"

Daphne shook her head. "No, and I don't get it. You'll think he would've wanted to get rid of Astoria as soon as possible to marry Pansy, like he always wanted. The only explanation I can come up with is that Lucius and Narcissa might have a hand in that. They might know something we don't. They both dote on Scorpius, did since the moment he was born. He is the heir presumptive to the Malfoy wealth, after Malfoy, of course. Maybe they are not keen on Draco marrying Pansy, given that the reputation of the Parkinsons is as bad as that of the Malfoys. It is not very likely that Draco will ever find a pureblood woman with a good name to marry him, so Scorpius likely is the only heir of respectable blood they'll ever have, and they will want to play a hand in his upbringing. According to their prenuptial agreement, Scorpius will go with Astoria whenever she decides to leave Draco, if they get a divorce."

Harry pondered her words. Daphne loved her sister and wanted to protect her. On top of that she felt guilty for her role in Astoria's marriage to the git. That was a strong motive for getting rid of Malfoy, and, according to Higgins, she'd also had the opportunity. Her hate of Malfoy might have intensified over the years; she had to watch how he refused to keep their bargain and treated her sister poorly on top of that. While she probably was not as trained in combat as Malfoy was, he had to include in his consideration her justified anger about Malfoy's last altercation with Astoria. Plus she had an elf with her to back her up. He would never underestimate what an angry elf could do, not after the way Dobby had defended him against Lucius Malfoy in his second year.

However, had she used the opportunity presented to her? He had to confront her with Higgin's statement and watch her reaction.

"I've been told that you and Malfoy exchanged words on the day he disappeared."

She started. "Who told you that?"

"That's not important. I'm just curious what that was about."

"I bet you are," Daphne said with a resigned sigh. "The next time I see Higgins— That ghost always hovers around the pub and doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut. Probably he's still drunk after all these years." She ran a hand through her short hair, raised her head, and met his eyes fair and square. "Yes, we had a few choice words with each other. He came to order Astoria and Scorpius back to Malfoy Manor. He didn't know yet that this time Astoria left him for good. I told him to stay away and not think to lay a hand on my sister one more time, or else. You know how he is, all words, but no trousers. He couldn't scurry away fast enough."

"That was all?"

She averted her eyes and reached for her glass to take a sip. "Yes, I went back into the house after that. I have a business to run and can't waste my time on Malfoy."

Harry watched her closely. That tale fit Malfoy's character well enough. He'd always backed down when he met someone stronger or more determined than him. And yet— He couldn't help the feeling she didn't tell him everything.

Then again, nothing pointed to Malfoy having been injured or killed, and this wasn't an official investigation, he was still doing this as a favour to Narcissa. Was he really about to ruin the first nice conversation with a young woman he had in months by prying into things that weren't his concern? Malfoy was probably shagging some bird to prove his manhood was still working after Astoria almost castrated him. The blonde git would most likely turn up in a day or two, broke and hungover, but he would have lost any chance he might have with the beautiful woman in front of him if he pressured her too much.

"And what a successful business it is," he said and raised his glass in a toast to her. "Have I told you already how much I enjoyed my dinner—or our conversation?"

She blushed at that. The door opening behind her and Astoria entering the room prevented her from having to answer.

Harry silently cursed.

As if she read his thoughts, a broad grin appeared on Astoria's face. "Now, aren't you two cosy?" She pulled out a chair for herself, plopped down, and bent to her sister. "Did you enjoy your rendez-vous with Harry Potter?" she asked in a stage whisper, then turned to Harry. "My sister had the biggest crush on you when she was still at Hogwarts."

Daphne's blush deepened. "I was fourteen!"

"And hoped he would ask you out for the yule ball."

Harry had to fight a grin at the sister's interaction, although his cheeks grew warm. "I wish I had known that back then. Going by the nice evening I had today, I would have enjoyed your company much more than my date."

The smile Daphne gave him for that interference was reward enough.

Astoria, however, pursed her lips and shook her head. "I doubt that, you were wound tighter than a dragon heartstring. You never seemed to enjoy yourself."

Fleeting images of the many close calls he had during his school years flashed through his mind. He shook them off; he'd come to terms with his past years ago and had learned to open a new chapter of his life and make the best of his second chance after the war. "I'm afraid you are right, Astoria. It's somewhat difficult to have fun with a madman on your heels, but I hope you'll find I'm much better company now."

Daphne winked at him. "I'm counting on it."

Later that night, alone in his bed, Harry revisited his conversation with Daphne. It had been pleasant. More than pleasant, actually. For the first time in years, maybe for the first time since his divorce, he'd genuinely enjoyed the company of a woman. He wouldn't mind doing that again. Too bad that the object of his desire was also a suspect in an investigation. Still not an official investigation, but that might change if Malfoy didn't turn up soon.

He sighed. This was not the professional behaviour expected from the Head Auror. He ought to keep his distance until this was over—one way or the other.

The next morning, Harry overslept. He hurried through his morning routine and jogged down the stairs to have a hasty breakfast before he headed to work. Days at the Auror office were unpredictable, you never knew when or even if you'd have the chance to grab a bite to eat. He'd learned the hard way never to leave home on an empty stomach, if he could help it.

Since he was later than usual, the dining room that also served as a breakfast room in the mornings was already crowded. All the small tables next to the windows were already taken. Harry cursed under his breath, forced a smile on his face, and walked to the only empty chair at one of the two bigger tables.

"Good morning, gentlemen." He gave a small bow to the wizards enjoying their breakfast and sat down, while receiving nods or a murmured "Morning!" in return. Except for the elderly wizard next to him.

"Good morning, Harry, my boy! We haven't met in ages. How are you?"

Harry suppressed a groan. This was his punishment for oversleeping, obviously, although having to suffer through a breakfast next to Horace Slughorn was a bit harsh.

"Good morning, Horace." He resigned to his fate and gave the man his most winning smile. While being a sycophant, he had his uses, one of them his vast knowledge about any gossip circulating within the magical world. Over a cup of strong tea and a plate of eggs, toast and bacon, Harry steered the conversation towards Draco Malfoy.

Slughorn tut-tutted at the name and scrunched up his face as if he had smelled something unpleasant. "No family fell deeper from grace within the last twenty years than the Malfoys." He leaned closer to Harry. "I've been told that they are a bit short on gold."

The wizard next to him let out a cackling laugh. "Almost broke, that's what they are, and no mystery about that, either, with the way young Malfoy squanders his gold in the card room."

"He didn't show up to a meeting with young Nott to settle a debt from a game of cards. Very bad form, if you ask me," his neighbour added with a sniff. "Even worse, the young fool borrowed gold from the goblins. I'd not be surprised if the goblins are already after him and he didn't show up because of that."

"Isn't Nott the lover of Malfoy's wife?" someone called across the table.

"No, that's young Ben Parkinson," a wizard from the other big table said.

Slughorn shook his head. "You're confusing brother and sister here, Albert. Ben is the sister of Pansy Parkinson, Malfoy's long-time mistress."

Albert turned around and nodded a greeting at Slughorn. "Morning, Horace." He made a dismissive gesture. "Whatever, can't blame young Mrs Malfoy for looking for comfort elsewhere, not with how her husband treated her."

Harry forced himself to make wide eyes. "Malfoy got cuckolded?" The trace of glee in his voice wasn't an act, however.

"I thought you'd like that, m'boy," Slughorn said with a giggle. "Weren't you on each other's throats forever at school?" His giggle turned into a deep belly laugh as if he had just made a good joke.

"Unfortunately, yes." Harry feigned a sigh.

Slughorn's laughter didn't stop, apparently Harry's performance didn't deceive him. "Ah, to be that young again!"

"I think I'll pass on any chance of reliving the past," Harry replied in his most dry tone.

That sobered up Slughorn in an instant. "Understandably so, m'boy. Well, back to the Malfoys. A nasty affair, that. Yes, the rumour goes that young Mrs Malfoy cheats on her husband, although the identity of her lover is yet to be determined. Some say it is young Mr Nott, others claim to have seen her enter a Muggle hotel with Benjamin Parkinson, and yet another group says she's on the brink of leaving the country with Dennis Creevy."

At that, Harry got tea in the wrong pipe and coughed, much to Slughorn's amusement.

"You're taking the piss!" he said as soon as he could breathe again.

"Yes, it is a bit far-fetched." Slughorn shrugged his enormous shoulders. "Yet there is a considerable group betting on that. Want to join the pool?"

"I think I'll pass on that, too." Harry emptied his cup and looked at his watch, the one the Weasleys had given him for his seventeenth birthday. "I'm afraid I've got to get going, I'm awfully late today. It was nice talking to you, Horace."

"Same, my boy, same! We've got to sit down one of these days for a comfortable chat."

Harry suppressed a grimace. Not if he could help it. No matter how useful Slughorn was, he could only handle him in small doses. He pushed his chair back, gave his good-byes to the breakfast crowd, and left the club. On his way to the next Apparition point he considered what he had learned.

So, both Malfoys strayed out of the marital bedroom. Well, that was to be expected, given the state of their marriage Astoria had admitted to. It would be worth his time to investigate their alleged lovers. Malfoy might have turned up at Pansy's house already, and for some obscure reason she didn't inform his family. Or one of Astoria's alleged lovers might have taken the git to task for his attack on her familiar. Strange that the old farts at the club had not yet found out his identity. He thought back to the conversation between Nott and Zabini he had overheard. Nott had been rather smug about having cleaned out Malfoy, hadn't he? If he ever considered joining the betting pool, his gold would be on him. In the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to pay Nott and Pansy a visit and find out what they knew about Malfoy's disappearance. Probably he should also schedule a meeting with his manager at Gringotts. Nott had already alluded to Malfoy being short on gold, and the wizard at the club had mentioned that again. Time to find out how much truth was behind that rumour—and if it was reason enough for Malfoy to go on the run.

A rather nervous house elf ushered Harry into the parlour on the first floor of the Parkinson town house on Mayfair. What was it with purebloods having their homes in Muggle neighbourhoods? Was this a way to assure themselves of their alleged superiority each day? Or was it a secret fascination with Muggles they didn't want to admit to? Whatever, he had a job on his hands, thinking about pureblood spleens wouldn't get him anywhere.

Pansy rose when he entered the room and held out her hand to him. "Good morning, Head Auror."

He took her hand and shook it; this was not a social call, after all, and he'd be damned if he'd ever sink so low to kiss Parkinson's hand. Not after all that had happened.

Her eyebrows rose a notch, getting the hint. She pointed to an upholstered chair opposite of hers and sat down. "I gather this is not a social call? How can I help you, Head Auror?"

Yes, polite enough, even subservient, for Parkinson's standards. Yet, she was still a snob.

Harry sat down and made himself comfortable.

"Well, I'm here in a semi-official capacity, Ms Parkinson. Did Narcissa already tell you what happened?"

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. "No; I haven't talked to her since Tuesday. Nothing bad, I hope?"

"Draco is missing. According to Narcissa, he left the house in the morning the day before yesterday and never returned."

"That explains why he didn't show up to our appointment," Parkinson said with a frown. "But why? He was in good spirits the last time I saw him."

"That's what I want to find out. This is not an official investigation, I have no reason to suspect that he is in danger. I'm just doing this as a favour to a family friend. I've been told that you and he are—friendly, so I thought you might be able to shed some light on this."

Parkinson didn't seem to be concerned about the news. Did that mean she knew where the git was?

"What did Narcissa tell you? Where was he supposed to go?" Parkinson asked instead of an answer.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. Who was leading the interrogation here? Should he tell her and risk she'd adjust her statement accordingly? However, this was not an official interrogation, so giving away some information might lower her guard.

"Just that he and Astoria fought that morning, Astoria left the house together with her son, and Draco went after them to bring them back."

"That's all?" Parkinson frowned. "Draco and Astoria fight as regularly as a clockwork, and each time she leaves with Scorpius. As a rule, Draco will let her cool off for a couple days, then write a letter and demand her return. She always acquiesced, she knows where the gold is."

"You mean, it is unlikely he went after her?"

"Very." Parkinson nodded. The frown on her face deepened. "If he went after her, then Lucius and Narcissa made him. They both dote on Scorpius and hate to let him out of their sight."

"I never would have expected them to be the doting kind of grandparents. They seem so aloof all the time."

Parkinson snorted at that. "Oh, they aren't. Scorpius is the next heir after Draco; they want to make sure he is educated as a Malfoy should be plus how to carry himself. That's of utmost importance to them, given Astoria's mediocre background and her liberal leanings."

Harry shook his head. "That's what everybody I talked to tells me. The Malfoys and Astoria clash, and Scorpius is in the centre of it. I just don't get it why Draco separates from Astoria, marries someone else, and sires half a dozen of Malfoy heirs."

"It's not as simple as that. He'd have to find a pureblood woman willing to marry him. Not many pureblood families are willing to bind their name to the Malfoys, not after how the war turned out. Astoria is at least a pureblood, so her less appealing character traits can be overlooked."

Harry leaned back in his chair. "Oh, come on, Parkinson, you're laying it on too thick. As if you wouldn't be the first in line to marry him even before the judge's ink on his divorce papers is dry."

She stiffened, a look of utter sadness crossed her face, and she looked to the ground. "As if he could ever leave her." The words were hardly audible, her voice was so low.

Harry's breath caught. Seems there was more behind Malfoy's refusal than what meets the eye. He straightened in his chair. "Why is it impossible for Malfoy to leave Astoria?" he asked in his Auror voice and let just enough of his power flare up that she'd be compelled to answer. Hopefully, the truth.

Parkinson raised her head. There was still sadness lurking in the depth of her eyes as she looked at him. "You said you are here as a favour to Narcissa. So, this conversation is off the record?"

"Yes, although I might come back later and interrogate you in an official capacity if something I learn today leads to results about Malfoy's whereabouts, and if he has come to harm."

"Fair enough." She lapsed into silence, as if to wager the pros and cons of giving him more information, then gave a determined nod as she came to a conclusion.

"You know that Draco took the Dark Mark?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, so did I. Not that it did me any good." Her voice was laced with bitterness.

Harry kept silent; he already knew about that, too. Parkinson had been one of the first arrested and investigated by the Aurors after the war. She'd got away with a slap on her wrist and some community service only because her joining the ranks of the DE had happened not even three weeks before the Battle of Hogwarts and she had left the castle at the first opportunity and didn't join the fight.

"I never wanted to take the Dark Mark, not after I had a first row seat to what the Dark Lord did to Draco. However, my father offered my services, and if I wanted to live, I'd better do as I was told."

He knew that, too, it had come up during the investigations of the Auror Department and had played a big role in why she got off so lightly.

"I was relieved when the Dark Lord died. I thought I was free and had escaped his clutches without having to pay the price so many others have."

Pansy didn't look at him, as if she was talking to herself. A bitter laugh escaped her mouth. She pushed up the sleeve of her left arm and stared down on the pale skin. The faint outline of the dark mark was still visible. "I should have known he'd make us pay for his death. The Dark Mark might be gone, he might be gone, but he took from us."

"What did he take?"

As if she remembered his presence just now, Pansy startled, then turned her gaze on him. "Our ability to ever have children," she said in a flat voice. "We found out only months later, around the time Scorpius was born, when the Unspeakables who investigated our Dark Marks and how they worked informed us. They prodded at us like we were lab rats, but came up with some life-saving results, or many of us would die an untimely death on top of all. However, they couldn't prevent us from infertility."

"You mean—"

"I'll never carry a child. And even if Draco married another woman than me, he'd never again father a child. Scorpius will be his only son. According to the prenuptial he and Astoria signed, Scorpius would go to Astoria if they split up. Lucius and Narcissa weren't happy about that, as you can imagine. As soon as they knew that Scorpius would be the last Malfoy, they forbade Draco to divorce Astoria, so their grandson would stay at Malfoy Manor and they could have a part in his upbringing and education."

"But Astoria could leave any time she wanted and take Scorpius with her," Harry said. Astoria herself had told him about that part of their prenuptial agreement.

"True, that's why Draco went after her to bring her back each time she left."

"Why would she do that?"

"Gold. Astoria's treatment is costly, and Draco wasn't above threatening her he would cut off her allowance, claiming that hard times had befallen him and he couldn't give her more. Astoria didn't want to burden her sister with that, Daphne had enough on her hands to get the family business back into shape after the war." Pansy took a deep breath. "You have no idea what his unhappy marriage took out of Draco. He has had enough of Astoria, and he was ready to let her go and file for divorce. He was supposed to meet me yesterday, we planned on having a talk on how to proceed with that and move in together. I thought he didn't keep our date because Narcissa and Lucius talked him out of it. Wouldn't be the first time."

t.b.c.