Content Warning: Depiction of depression/hopelessness

Daphne hovered near the entrance to the Great Hall, struck with indecision. The same questions from the previous term echoed in her mind, leaving her weighing a series of seemingly equally bad choices. It had been hard back in September - and frightening - to enter on Harry's arm, but at least then there were people on her side. Harry was on her side.

Now, he wasn't even at the school.

Even knowing better, she couldn't stop her eyes from seeking out familiar faces. Hermione glared balefully at her from the Gryffindor table, brown eyes dark and furious. Over with the Ravenclaws, Luna seemed to have made an attempt to insert herself into a group of girls in her year; an unsuccessful one, given the way they talked past her like she wasn't there. At Slytherin, Pansy gave her a single, derisive glance before pointedly ignoring her entrance.

The food appeared without preamble not long after she took a seat at Slytherin's table, alone on the edges of a group of Third Years. She had no appetite, but sat through the entirety of dinner nonetheless.

Daphne didn't want to be here, but the thought of going straight to the Room of Requirement was too terrible to contemplate. It felt like an entire year had passed since she was last there, rather than less than a month. She'd not actually slept there since the night before she and Harry- since that horrible night.

Still, the meal eventually came to a close, and with heavy steps she walked up to the Seventh Floor, feet dragging all the while. Arriving at the blank stretch of wall, she set a picture of a simple, neutral bedroom in her mind and paced back and forth three times.

Nothing happened. No door appeared.

Confused, Daphne tried again, and again. Still, the Room did not appear. What was the matter? What was she doing wrong? Flummoxed, she tried a third time, and a fourth, and finally a fifth. Nothing.

This had never happened before, and she didn't know what to do.


Every part of her ached.

With no other options, she'd been forced to improvise. Daphne spent the night in an unused classroom atop several desks pushed together, using her robes as a blanket and a few wadded up jumpers as a pillow.

She barely got any rest whatsoever, and not just from the discomfort - during her search for a classroom, she swore she caught sight of a rat darting behind a suit of armour. The thought of rodents climbing over her while she slept kept her tense and hyper-aware throughout the night, until finally nodding off just before dawn.

Packing her clothes back inside her trunk, it took two attempts before she was able to shrink it down to place in her pocket. Resolved to never spend another night in the manner she had, Daphne determinedly made her way back to the Room. But just like before, it refused to open for her.

She lingered there in the corridor until her first class began, with no desire to return to the Great Hall even if she hadn't lacked any appetite. Stepping inside the classroom for Household Charms, Daphne slipped into an empty seat and waited for the lecture to begin.

There weren't many students who elected to take Household-level courses, only a half-dozen in Charms and around ten in Transfiguration. There were a few smirks and sniggers from the others aimed at her, likely from her rumpled and unkempt appearance.

Daphne couldn't find it in herself to care.

When classes ended for the day, she tried one last time to gain access to the Room, and upon failing again, squared her shoulders and began the long march down to the dungeons. Mercifully, one of Astoria's old friends was returning from the library when she arrived, sparing her the need to stand outside and wait for someone to give the password Daphne never bothered to find out.

The Sixth Year's dormitory seemed so unfamiliar, so foreign. She'd only slept in here for a few weeks last September, after all, before taking refuge in the Room of Requirement. Given she'd arrived at the tail end of dinner, there was no one in the dorms. Her old bed, though, had been converted into a spare storage space of sorts, with clothes, cosmetics, and even shoes haphazardly thrown onto it.

"Oh, you're back."

She turned, giving Tracey an awkward wave. "Hi."

"I'm surprised to see you here. We all sort of assumed you wouldn't come back this term, either." Daphne shrugged in reply. "Is it true you've been sleeping in Gryffindor Tower?"

"Is that where you thought I was?"

"It's what Pansy said," Tracey offered in a neutral voice. Daphne could well imagine the sorts of comments that were made alongside that particular speculation. "I mean, it sort of made sense, what with you and Potter appearing in Witch Weekly and all."

"How have you been?" she asked, not eager to talk about her relationship with Harry.

"I'm good. Excited to finally be of age - I signed up for apparition training."

That's right. Tracey's birthday was at the end of November. They'd never really made a big deal of it in the past; she was always too busy with… "And Pansy? Is she alright?"

Tracey made a funny expression, almost but not quite a wince. "She, uh, she hasn't really been the same since Draco left." Daphne didn't say anything, and after a few seconds the other girl spoke again. "You might want to grab what you came for and go back to your boyfriend."

Her throat felt tight, the desire to hide the truth, to not admit they weren't together any longer rising within her. It was one thing for Harry's friends to know, or her family. To tell someone else, though…

It would make the rounds through the Hogwarts gossip mill. People she never so much as uttered a word to would hear about The Chosen One and his girlfriend splitting up. Especially with his absence, there's no chance it would fly under the radar.

Maybe people would think Harry left her for her own protection, to try and make her less of a target as he'd moved towards a more active role in the war. Or that it was nothing more than a typical Hogwarts romance, together for a few months and then moving on to something else. It would be the topic on everyone's mind when they interacted with her. And every time she was forced to talk about it, about him, she'd have to think about what had happened. About her desperate gamble and her crushing loss.

Daphne let out a small whimper. No one understood, no one could understand. The past year with Harry would define her life. She'd wanted to save her sister and instead fell in love, and now she'd lost them both. There wouldn't be any moving on from this. For as long as she lived, every time she thought of Astoria she'd remember Harry, what she did to him, and her ultimate failure.

"I-"

"Well, well, look who it is, girls!" Pansy, accompanied by Millicent and Lily, stood in the doorway. "You think because your boyfriend's done a few photo ops with the DMLE, you can come back here?"

"I don't have anywhere else to go. And he's not my boyfriend any longer."

A flash of something resembling sympathy crossed Pansy's features, then disappeared a moment later. "And you think everything's going to go back to the way it was? After everything you've done?"

Daphne shook her head. 'What did it even matter, anymore?' she asked herself. Pansy could do what she wanted to her. "I don't have anywhere else to go," she repeated.

"Well, we don't want you here."

"If I get caught sleeping outside the dorms, Professor Snape will make me come back, anyway."

Pansy sneered with her hands on her hips. "Then maybe you should go sleep in the Forest."

"Be serious, Pansy. She's right, and I'd rather not have Snape nosing around our dorm room," Tracey said, slipping a supportive arm around Daphne. "She can bunk with me for tonight and fix her up her bed tomorrow."

Her lip curled, but Pansy nodded, not taking her eyes off of Daphne. The implicit threat her return elicited may have gone unspoken, but Slytherin House clearly hadn't changed during her absence.

Nonetheless, Daphne couldn't bring herself to care about the potential danger. Her question from before echoed through her mind as she set her trunk next to Tracey's and prepared for bed.

What did it even matter, after everything she'd lost?


"C'mon, get up! Do you even go to your classes anymore?"

Daphne blinked, instinctively rolling away to stop Tracey from shaking her. "I'll get up in a minute."

"That's what you said yesterday, and you stayed in bed the whole day. Professor Vector took twenty points for you ditching class again. I thought you liked Arithmancy?"

She did. "I'll go next week."

"Right. What classes have you got today?"

"I've already got a mum, Tracey."

"Yea, well maybe I should send her a letter. When's the last time you even ate something? I haven't seen you in the Great Hall in days."

"I don't like eating there. I know where the kitchens are," she said, not that she'd been going there, either.

Three weeks had passed since she returned to the dungeons. Daphne never did move back to her own bed. Having Tracey nearby offered a small bit of security, a feeling of safety that she was reluctant to give up. To her credit, her roommate hadn't made an issue of it - but judging by the way this morning had started, her patience was up.

"Well, today you're coming with me. Get up and get ready. If you're not up by the time I finish showering, I'm going to drag you up there in your nightclothes!" The door to the lavatory slammed shut behind her.

There was little doubt Tracey would follow through on her promise. Daphne pushed the blanket off herself, grudgingly sitting up and gathering the pieces of her uniform before heading into the bathroom herself. She mechanically washed herself, not even bothering to untangle the knots in her hair, simply working the shampoo into her scalp around them. Once finished, she went through the motions of cleaning her teeth and dressing for the day.

She wasn't feeling well; there was a dull ache in her abdomen that had been present for several days, but that wasn't why she'd been skiving off. There wasn't a conscious reason, but whatever it was kept Daphne unmotivated and lethargic. It felt like everything that mattered to her was shattered and destroyed; in the face of such ruin, was there any purpose in pressing forward?

Obediently trailing behind her roommate, she cringed as the wall of noise that was breakfast in the Great Hall practically slapped her in the face. Despite her worries at the start of the term, most of the student body didn't dwell on her breakup with Harry, more important news and everyday concerns of their own having pushed her out of the spotlight.

There were notable exceptions to that, however, she thought to herself, noting the way Granger's stone-cold gaze locked onto her the moment she stepped inside for breakfast. Hermione hadn't spoken a word to her since Ron dragged her away on the Express, but her accusing eyes followed Daphne wherever she went.

Over at the Ravenclaw table, Luna was once again seated near her own roommates. Ever since Daphne admitted the truth, it seemed like the little blonde was doing her best to fit in among her Housemates. There was no wand tucked behind her ear, no radish earrings, and her hair was in a simple ponytail. Judging by the way the other girls talked around her and not to her, though, Luna's efforts had thus far not proven fruitful. Daphne hated them for ignoring the changes, and hated herself even more for causing her to believe she needed to change in the first place.

She dropped into the seat next to Tracey, allowing her hair to fall in front of her face and hide her burning eyes. She missed Luna, missed all of them. There was no denying that she deserved to be shut out, to be shunned, but Daphne wished- she wished things were different. So many things.

Harry still appeared in the Prophet on occasion, but only in clearly staged press releases. She wondered how he was doing. Had the others heard anything from him? Had he asked about her at all?

If he had, would they even tell her?

Tracey piled toast and eggs onto a plate and dropped it in front of her. "Eat." Daphne obediently took a bite of a piece of toast and slowly chewed. "What's your first class today?"

"What day is it, again?"

Tracey rolled her eyes. "I told you you missed Arithmancy yesterday, so that would make it a Friday. Do you have one of your remedial classes?"

Friday. Brewing day for NEWT Potions. "Yea. Yea, I do."

"Well, make sure you go this time."

Daphne nodded, even though she knew there was no chance she'd attend. Sitting there, staring at the empty spot next to her, the place Harry belonged was too much to ask. She already constantly felt his absence - she didn't need to add a visual representation of it.

Besides, she thought, as the breakfast period came to a close and she walked out of the Great Hall, what did she need potions for, anyway? What purpose would it serve, getting a NEWT in this class or retaking her OWL for that one?

You saved me from fate itself, Harry had written, but he wasn't the only one who'd had his destiny decided for him. Standing on the shallow banks of the Black Lake, Daphne stared down at her hands, imagining she could see the curse running through her veins. Astoria succumbed earlier than most, that was true, but Daphne knew what the future held for her. She was born of Greengrass, and someday the malediction in her blood would come calling.

And unlike her dear, innocent sister, Daphne would deserve every bit of the pain it brought.

Her gaze lifted, staring into the dark, freezing water.

She'd tried so hard, fought against the inevitable without a passing concern for the collateral damage her efforts wrought, but what was it all for? For all that she'd tried over the last year, had she achieved anything other than hurting everyone she cared about?

A chill wind blew, the waters of the lake lapping around her shoes.

It was over. Astoria was gone, beyond the ability of anyone to help her. Harry was gone, his despair driving him into battle against the overwhelming power of the Dark Lord. And somehow, despite it all, she was still here, safe and sound. Living well.

The numbness in her legs spread to her waist, the icy, freezing pinpricks slowly fading away. Her sodden robes felt like lead weights hanging off her body.

She was as poisonous as her blood. How bad of a person was she, that she did more harm to people when she actually tried to be good? Who was even left for her to hurt? Tracey? Her parents?

Her hair fanned out around her, the long ebony strands floating weightlessly as her clothing pulled at her.

It was better this way, she decided. Better for her, because she'd never have to lose anyone ever again. And it would be better for everyone else when she could no longer hurt them, anymore than she already had.

Daphne slid downward, into the darkness.


A thin line of light pierced the inky blackness, and the front of her robes drew taut. In the next moment, like a fishing line had affixed itself to her, Daphne was jerked out of the water and pulled to the shore. An incantation sounded from above, and she retched several times, lake water spilling from her mouth in a torrent.

"You've certainly made a mess of things," Dumbledore said, drying her with a wave of his wand, then casting a warming charm over her on the backswing.

"H-Headmaster?" she stuttered, teeth chattering. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come for a discussion that is long overdue. Alas, circumstances being what they are, I was unable to spare the time until this morning. May I ask what you thought you were doing just now?"

"I- I was…"

He waited for her to continue, but when she did not, he spoke. "I'm afraid you'll need to elaborate, my dear."

"I've ruined everything."

"I'm well aware of that, but until now I hadn't realised you did so unintentionally."

Daphne clenched her fists, pulling herself up off her hands and knees. "You think this is how I wanted things to turn out?"

"Dobby." The elf appeared on the shoreline with a pop! "A cup of tea, please, and some hot cocoa for Miss Greengrass, if you don't mind. Perhaps some sandwiches, if you have time."

"Yes sir, Professor Dumbledore, sir!" He vanished as swiftly as he arrived.

She stared dumbly at him, taken off-guard by his reaction to her outrage. "But- breakfast just ended."

Dumbledore waved his wand again, and two cushioned chairs appeared, along with a small, circular table. Another spell set up a bubble around them, blocking out the wind. "Now, I suppose, officially, I should discipline you for your school marks, and your disturbing recent tendency towards truancy. Or perhaps, warn you of the dangers of swimming in Scottish lakes in February," he said in a casual, care-free tone. "But I think we both would be better served if we spent our time discussing Harry."

"Is he- has something happened? Is he alright?"

"Sit down, Miss Greengrass."

"I need to know, please-"

Tea service, and a steaming mug of cocoa appeared on the table, alongside a selection of finger sandwiches.

"Be seated, and I will tell you." Daphne obediently took a seat, lifting up the mug of cocoa at Dumbledore's gesture. "I recall Harry mentioning that he told you of his lessons with me in my office, last term."

"He did," she said slowly, feeling returning to her fingers as they gripped the warm ceramic. "He said you had a plan to defeat You-Know-Who."

"My plan was to prepare Harry to defeat Voldemort. Preparations that were far from complete when certain events occurred in December. Please, help yourself," he said, motioning towards the sandwiches.

"I'm not very hungry."

"Very well, I'll let Madam Pomfrey sort that," he said, reaching for a sandwich and taking a bite.

"Headmaster, has something happened to Harry?"

"In the way you mean, no. In an entirely different, but equally as significant way, though, yes." He set down his sandwich and picked up his tea with his gloved hand, leaning back in his chair. "Harry told me you know of the prophecy made shortly before his birth."

"Yes."

"Divination is an unfortunately murky field of magic, and prophecies are rarely straightforward. I spent many years pondering a line from this particular one. Can you guess which line I'm referring to?"

"'The power he knows not'," Daphne quoted, before leaning forward urgently. "You know what it is?"

"I believe I do. Based on certain information I've learned about Voldemort, combined with Lily Potter's sacrifice for her son, I formed a theory as to the nature of this 'power'. A theory, I might add, the events at the Ministry last year lent a great deal of credence to. The greatest power of all, and one Harry himself has in tremendous reserves." Dumbledore took a sip of tea. "I am referring, of course, to love."

"You're joking."

"It was this power, the sacrifice made for him that protected Harry, that made Voldemort weak against him. Voldemort's inability to understand such a force led to a certain vulnerability, an opening I hoped Harry might exploit." Dumbledore set his teacup down and looked out over the lake. "But instead, along came a girl, one so desperate to save her dying sister she would doom us all."

She shook her head. "That's not fair, I never wanted to hurt him-"

"Harry has refused to continue his lessons with me, unless I consent to teach him advanced magic with which to fight Voldemort. That was the ultimatum he offered on Christmas - either I give in, or he would turn to Ministry aurors for training."

So he didn't leave Hogwarts because of her! It wasn't her fault! "Why didn't you just do as he asked, if your lessons are so important?"

A cross look emerged on his features. "Harry is an impressive wizard at sixteen, and has the potential to one day be a great one. He does not, however, have the luxury of waiting for 'one day'."

"He beat the Death Eaters at the Ministry, didn't he? Maybe you're underestimating him!"

He paused, and for the first time in her memory, smiled at her. "I in no way mean to diminish his accomplishments. Harry is the equal to many fully-trained, more experienced wizards and witches, in large part because of his courage and determination. But answer me honestly - do you believe, right now, today, that Harry is my equal? That he could best me in battle?"

"No," she whispered.

"And I, in turn, am unable to defeat Voldemort. Matched against one another in magical combat, Harry will lose. There is no spell I can teach him, no charm nor curse, that will offer him a chance to prevail. He cannot win."

"Then- then why don't you just tell him what he needs to know!"

"I have tried," Dumbledore said evenly. "He will not listen. He no longer believes in my interpretation of the prophecy."

Her eyes fell, staring down into her mug. "Because of me."

"Because of you."

They sat in silence for several minutes, Daphne looking into the dregs of her rapidly cooling cocoa, the Headmaster staring up into the sleet-gray, overcast sky. After some time, a voice called out to them from the direction of the school.

"Headmaster?"

"Just a moment more, please," he called out in reply, then turned back to her. "Madam Pomfrey has come to take you to the Hospital Wing, but there is one more thing we must discuss."

"The Hosp- there's nothing wrong with me! I'm not sick!"

His eyebrows rose. "Even were I to ignore what immediately preceded our conversation, you look to be scarcely more than skin and bone, my dear." He held up a hand to forestall any further argument. "You never asked what made me seek you out today. It was not," at this, a shadow of a grin appeared amidst his great, white beard, "simply to denounce you for your actions, as ill-conceived and shortsighted as they were."

"Then why?"

"I have agreed to Harry's terms, and he will be returning to the castle. I must ask; no, I beg of you not to further the damage you have already inflicted upon him. Abide by his wishes, allow the wound you left on him a chance to heal."

Harry was coming back. He was really coming back! She- maybe there was a chance she could set things right!

Daphne set the mug on the conjured table and rose to her feet, legs feeling shaky beneath her. "I think I'm ready to go with Madam Pomfrey now, sir."

A/N: Phew! Glad that's over with.

Astoria Death Watch: not dead yet!

It's all uphill - I mean, from Daphne's emotional standpoint - from here. Here comes that sweet, sweet redemption, baby! Woo!

Since my last update, I've published:

A lot of chapters of The Discordant Pattern

Story rec: Where the Grass is Greener by StellaStarMagic. An outstanding postwar Daphne who did some pretty awful things at Hogwarts. Only six chapters, but I was a big fan.

This chapter was supposed to end with the Hogsmeade visit in Feb, but I cut it out for two reasons: 1) I feel like the last few chapters have all ended on a downer (and this ending felt a little better?), and 2) I wanted a Harry-free chapter. Daphne has to come to terms with what she's done without him there being all pissed off, and he's got a lot of work to do on his own.

I think…. TWO more chapters and Sixth Year will be complete. Seventh year is still a mess in my plans, so I'll iron out those details in the meantime. For as much as this fic has failed to really excite me, I have to admit I freaking LOVE the ending that's planned. Hope you all stick with me til it's over!

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles