As Daphne traversed the familiar path she took to the Great Hall that morning, it couldn't be ignored that there was a certain level of greyness over the castle. She struggled to keep up any of the enthusiasm of last night. Her eyes hurt, though she hadn't been crying. All the joy and celebration of yesterday had been nullified, and thus rendered soured in her head. It was as though she had met a wonderful new friend of whom she had clicked instantly, only to then find out that person had been a hired actor.
Tracey hadn't turned up to apologise the morning after. That, in itself, was worrying. Usually after their spats, she would go out of her way to be annoying until Daphne either relented and they forgot about it, or… No, actually. That was exactly how it usually went. But not this time. Afraid she would oversleep after getting in so late, Daphne set her alarm clock earlier than necessary. Which ironically, just meant she was up and about earlier than usual. She was up and dressed before the morning sun started to shine through the black lake - and not a single soul had passed through the common room. This meant Tracey was either passed out, or otherwise still partying. Or alternatively, the option Daphne was trying to ignore, was that some kind of irreparable damage had been done to their friendship.
It was an unusual feeling, this one. She had done nothing wrong last night - she knew this. She had said nothing that wasn't exactly what Tracey had needed to hear at that moment. But, whether her actions were justified or not, Tracey's night had been spoiled. Not entirely by her, but their argument would definitely have contributed. To have gone from such a high to such a low in such a short amount of time would affect anyone negatively.
So, rather begrudgingly, Daphne came to the slow realization that, though she may not have acted incorrectly, she definitely didn't act with what one would say... good taste.
It wasn't until Professor Flitwicks Charms lesson that she saw Tracey for the first time that day. She had barged in twenty minutes late and to an eruption of giggles. As the scandalised laughter and wolf whistles sounded around her, Daphne averted her eyes with second hand shame.
"Sorry, Professor. Won't happen again," she apologised, deliberately not looking around the rest of the room.
Professor Flitwick considered her carefully.
"I know you often seem to think the dress code does not apply to you, Miss Davis, but at least pretend to care. Take your seat. We're on page sixty-hundred and sixty-six."
Tracey often wore boys pants instead of the skirt expected of girls - there was a poorly written rule in the dress code that allowed this. She wore the same today, the only difference being, the colour. She was wearing Gryffindors colours, and with how oversized the robes looked on her, it was unmistakable where she had come from and what she had been doing the night before.
Daphne suddenly felt a lot less ready to apologise.
Whatever feelings of regret she had been having were soon beginning to repair themselves. To think she had woken up, concerned and worried about the future of their relationship, while Tracey had been off without a care in the world. She actually thought that their argument had been something significant, there was even a small part of her that was impressed. But no. It had just been part of Tracey's bog-standard drunk rampling, and after she'd left she had carried on unphased, right into the bed of some poor Gryffindor.
As they exited out of the classroom for break between, she found Tracey waiting by the door.
"Daphne, I -"
"Whose uniform is that?"
She went quiet - unusually so.
"I didn't sleep with anyone… promise…"
There was an unmistakable air about her that she was in pain someway - naturally Daphne chalked this up to a hangover, which then made her feel considerably better about her decision to leave the party early.
"I slept in, then didn't have anythin' to wear, I haven't been back to the dungeons…"
That didn't strike as true. The Gryffindor uniform was too large for her, if she was just lending clothes then she probably could have found a better size.
"You're a disgrace."
She sank a little further into her shoulders, looking like a child scorned. At least she wasn't fighting back, Daphne thought. A moment passed where as she watched her bring the tip of her foot awkwardly around on the floor in front of her.
"Can we... have a chat, please?"
Daphje made a gesture, the kind that invited her to go on.
"Not here. Somewhere quiet. It's important."
She groaned.
"What did you do?"
Tracey inflated suddenly, snapping back to her full size.
"Nothin'! Look - Daffy - please. Just come sit down with me."
She shook her head.
"I have to supervise a mock exam for the second years."
Tracey went quiet again.
Careful, Daphne watched her. This was quite unlike the usual behaviour expected from her. Even when she'd done something unapologetic bastardish, she always seemed proud of her actions. Tracey had integrity that rivalled her own - which made seeing her like this quite disconcerting. It made her a little more reasonable than she usually would have been.
They took off together, Daphne leading the way.
"I have a free period after that. I'm supposed to be studying, though. What do you want to talk about?"
She specifically avoided her eyes when she asked this, and gave no answer. Something was definitely up. Daphne looked around for a plan of escape. She was never the one that had to lead the conversation around Tracey before, and this was rapidly turning awkward.
Thinking back to the lesson preceeding them, a thought occurred to her.
"What happened to your wand?"
If she was looking to improve her mood, then this had not been the question to ask. But it at least got an answer, this time.
"Sat on it."
She produced two bits of wood from her pocket, barely held together by the stem in the middle.
"You can't use that for lesson. It's a health and safety hazard. I'm surprised Professor Flitwick didn't confiscate it immediately, he mustn't have seen it."
She shrugged back uselessly.
"I need a wand for my N.E.W.T's and don't have money to get it fixed."
With an exciting surge of joy, things clicked together in her head. An idea had popped into Daphnes mind. This way, she couls simultaneously ease her guilty conscience, help Tracey out and while satisfying her stubbornness over not apologising. Tracey would have no leg to stand on against her - it was the perfect solution to their overhanging problem.
"What do you have next?"
"Free period. Why?"
"After my sit in, I can ask Professor Snape if we can get permission to visit Diagon Alley this evening. We'll go Olivanders and replace it."
More miserable still, Tracey shook her head at this. Daphne had only ever seen her this bad once beforehand, that day spent by the lake.
"I don't have the galleons to spare. Literally - I'm completely skint. I could ask mum, but I'm probably better off than she is right now..."
She turned her nose up at the thought. With her mothers heart, she would absolutely offer to pay full price for a new wand for one of her daughters. That made the resolve of her decision even more certain - now she was helping out two family members with the one gesture.
"I can lend you the money. Don't tell anybody - and I'll need it back in time."
"Daphne, you can't."
She cooked a brow.
"Not like you to be ostentatious?"
"No, seriously, Daffy. I appreciate it, but… but I can't…"
"Well, you're going to have to ask Mummy for the money then."
Tracey looked like she could have punched her. She puffed her cheeks out aggressively, then concided, looking close to tears.
"You… you don't understand…"
She blinked away the rising wateryness in her eyes.
"Daphne, you're a life saver. I don't deserve this. Thank you."
"Did Snape look alright to you?"
"No. Not that he ever does."
It was true that Professor Snape had been looking more and more sickly recently, but today had been something new. She didn't spare the concern - he had finally taken the hint and stopped harassing her, so she was fine with whatever was going on with him.
"Let's make this quick."
She knew the risks involved that came with leaving the castle now. But this was only going to be a short in-and-out adventure, twenty minutes at most. Definitely not worth bothering the entire Order of the Phoenix over.
Though she rarely visited the Leaky Cauldron, she certainly knew it wasn't supposed to be like this. It was near completely empty - save for four people. There was a busty blond woman polishing glasses, a miserable looking witch sat at the bar that Daphne vaguely recognised and then thr two of them, looking out of place in their school uniforms. The barmaid looked their way hopefully, but Daphne cut her off before she could speak.
"Just using the floo, thank you."
The landlady nodded gloomily and returned to wiping glasses.
"Could we not have a drink, Daffy? Quick one?"
"Absolutely not."
"I really have something I need to talk to you about."
"It can wait."
Daphne led the way and Tracey followed her out into the chilly cobble-stone street. They paused to look around, and saw how drastically Diagon Alley had changed. The normally colourful, glittering windows of spell books, magical creatures and cauldrons were now lost to view, hidden behind boarded up windows and large Ministry of Magic posters. Most of the posters were Ministry-approved security advice, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of known Death Eaters. She tried to watch her feet as they moved, only glancing up to check they were heading in the right direction. She felt exposed as it was - never mind having the faces of Bellatrix Lestrange, Peter Pettigrew and Merula Snyde all sneering back at her.
She noticed many of the people who passed them had the same hurried, anxious look, and that nobody was lingering; shoppers stayed together in their own tightly knit groups, moving intently about their business. There was not a single person who seemed to be shopping alone.
The further they drew away from the Leaky Cauldron, the more Daphne's head appeared to be waking up. There was now something on the tip of her tongue that was very important she needed to remember. Her insistance over this grew so much, by the time they had arrived at Olivanders, she had almost walked straight past it.
"That's not Mister Olivander," she mumbled, catching the glimpse of a ginger haired woman through a gap in the stained glass.
"He went missin' didn't he?"
"Did he?"
Tracey nodded, a faint sadness on her face.
"You-Know-Who. Was all over the Daily Prophet early this year, did you not see it?"
Sorry, she shook her head.
"I try to avoid the Prophet these days."
Looking the place up and down, as if trying to find some mental fault with it now, it was a few seconds before they decided to move in.
As the bell announced their arrival, the ginger-haired witch moved to them.
"Hello dearies! How can I help you? Or just looking?"
After nodding to Daphne, almost like she was asking permission, Tracey unceremoniously placed her wand on the counter, where the wandsmith tutted loudly at the pathetic sight of it.
"Dear-dear. What has the poor thing been up to?"
She had hardened up for the journey, but now looked close to tears again.
"Left it in my pocket and sat down."
She tutted even louder.
"I keep saying it! They need to teach proper wand storage in Hogwarts! Honest to goodness! You're the fifth one I've had in this month!"
Then she notice Daphne, and gestured vaugely to the cornee.
"You can take a seat in the corner over there dear, if you're just waiting. Now, Miss Davis, tell me the specs on this."
Daphne moved where she was directed, but stopped halfway to the chair. That nagging something in the back of her head pulled her against it. Unsure, she wobbled on the spot for a second, before turning to the exit.
"I'll wait outside, thank you."
She felt immediately on the cusp of a sudden realisation, yet no matter how much she considered it, she simply could not pin-point the origin of her feeling. She looked up the street, the way they had came. There had to have been something she had seen, something she had smelt, or maybe something that reminded her of something else. Something had to have triggered this empithany. Mentally, she retraced her steps, back up the cobble street, past the wanted posters, back into the Leaky Cauldron, and then…
With a silent gasp, her breathing began to pick up pace.
She had to be mistaken, surely? Had to have been seeing things. There was no way, was there? The chances of that were practically zero to none. But if they weren't… if she was not mistaken...
There was a chime behind her as Tracey exited the store.
"She says I can have a new one immediately, or wait like half an hour and she can repair it? Repairing will be cheaper, but it'll also take longer..."
Daphne wasn't listening. She brought the hessian bag from her robe pocket and pushed it her way.
"I'll be back."
She had to be sure. It was stupid - there wasn't a chance of it, she knew. And even if she was right, then it would only cause more trouble than it was worth. But she had to know. She had to know.
Re-entering the Leaky Cauldron, she again caught the attention of the bar-lady, who deflated at seeing her again. The only other occupant in the room didn't look her way, however. Daphne moved closer to the solem-looking witch at the bar, her heart racing. The dyed section in her hair was unmistakable.
"... Merula?"
The witch jumped. She glared at her, Daphne instantly melted under those violet-red eyes.
"Oh… you."
Merula Snyde cursed her, looked around, then gestured at the bar stoll beside her.
"Sit down and shut up."
The lady land came over to them and took Merulas empty glass, then gestured back at the bar.
"Another one, Lily?"
Surprising Daphne, Merula nodded to this.
"Fire whiskey. One for the kid, too."
She moved away from them, buising about preparing their drinks. That left a sudden large amount of pressure of Daphne to say something. The unbelievability of the situation had left her lost for words.
Thankfully, and not for the first time, Merula saved her from this.
"How'd you find me?"
"I was just passing through, I… I…"
It was just beginning to catch her up that she was now in the presence of a Death Eater. She had been so eager for closure it had completely escaped her the danger she had just put herself in. There was no of Dumbledores promised protection for her here, how could she have been such a blithering idiot?
When the landlady returned with their drinks, she took an important sip. The whiskey burned her throat as it went down - it certainly was no Ramiel-Pure.
"That's for saving my life."
Daphne nodded her thanks, trying to keep herself from coughing
"I'm... sorry. Sorry I had to leave you," she tried. "The Aurors were coming a-and I only just got you to the hospita-"
"Keep your voice down! Idiot!"
Merula hissed at her, her eyes shooting to the landlady, who was now a good distance away up the bar.
"Stop whining. I get it. Don't suppose you got my wand on you?"
"It's in my dormitory. It's safe - I can send an owl with it?"
She turned her nose up in a sneer, like she'd just understood a joke that was beyond her.
"Don't bother... Tell me what happened. Everything."
Keeping her eyes out for the land lady, and for any new customers, Daphne explained. As she dove into the story, this time at an appropriate level, she was able to calm her nerves enough to talk frankly and free. She caught Merula up on everything, starting with her accidental splinching, her fight with the Aurors, their escape down the gully and then into Salford Royal Hospital. She skipped out the part about her mother, not feeling particularly eager to recount the events.
When she finished her story, Merula was quiet for a long time before speaking. Daphne hung on her response, seeking approval.
After a while passed, it became obvious Merula didnt plan on responding to this at all. She was a difficult person to read, so Daphne didnt know if this was a good or bad thing. Giving into her curiosity, she decided to provide the followup instead.
"How did you get out?"
She took another deep swig of the fire whiskey - how she was able to gulp that much in one go was beyond her.
"Without a wand... it wasn't easy. I had help, though."
"Professor Snape says they couldn't find you."
A low cackling laugh escaped Merula's chest - one that for a second, made her resemble Tracey.
"They still haven't."
That wording flew right over her head. She perked a quizzical brow.
"What does that mean?"
Unfortunately, it qas only after saying this she realizied it was absolutely not the right thing to say. A Death Eaters business was a Death Eaters business, and she had no desire to know anything that would make her an accomplice. It had just slipped out - despite her rather intimidating eyes, Merula didn't have the air about her a usual Death Eater had. She was a lot more approachable, Daphne couldn't explain it, she just felt better in her presence than she did the others. She would probably take Merula over her father now, come to think of it.
The coming storm brewed, and rather abruptly, Merula hissed a question at her.
"Whose side are you on, kid?"
She took a very intentional deep swig. The burning sensation in her stomach was worth it to give her the extra time to figure out how she wanted to play this.
Just where exactly did she stand with Merula? They had formed a truce the night of the attack, but Daphne couldnt consider that was still applicable now. But not only did Merula not act like a normal Death Eater, the more she thought about it, the more her actions didn't add up either. Professor Snape had specifically said they hadn't managed to find Merula, yet here she was now out in the broad open. It surely wouldn't have been difficult for her to find the Death Eaters again… unless, perhaps she didn't want to be relocated by them?
Was there a chance Daphne would was staring at someone in a similiar situation to the one she was in?She knew needed to answer at once, so she gave the most honest answer that occurred to her.
"My own. Why?"
Merula smirked devilishly.
"Good answer. Best answer you can give. You're like me. You pretend, don't you?"
She kept quiet, not wanting just put all her cards on deck. Merula waited, then continued.
"Listen to me - Daphne Greengrass. I'm going to give you the best advice someone like us can hear. It's something I definitely could have done with hearing when I was your age. Its important to stay true to who you are. It doesn't matter what you want to be, or who others think you are, reality is the only thing that's real. Sins and all. It isn't worth pushing others away for some delusion of superiority."
Fear began to swell inside her like a venomous bubble. That was exactly the kind of advice she had been needing to hear - but it did not elate her. Instead, her hand tightened her hand over the wand in her sleeve. That all sounded far too accurate for Merula to not know more about her than she was letting on.
Merula's eyes flickered down at her, noticing this.
"Good girl."
Their intense eye contact hung in the air for a moment. Then, it was shattered, by a gentle pat on Daphne's shoulder, startling her.
"Done, Daffy! It's fixed and I got your change - listen this is really important, can we sit down for a bit? I'll buy?"
Merulas head snapped away, hiding her face. Daphne lept to block her. Now noticing her, Tracey straightened up.
"Oh… sorry. Didn't realise you were... talkin' to someone…"
Her eyes narrowed intently. Daphne picked up her fire whiskey and quickly downing it in one, nearly vomiting in the process.
"Thank you for the drink, Lily," she gasped for breath. "I'll see you later."
But Tracey hadn't moved from her spot, and looked to be moving intentionally closer to Merula.
"Do I know you?" she asked.
"No."
"Tracey, we're leaving."
Daphne snatched her by the hand and began to lead her, quite forcefully, back towards the fireplace. As they drew away, Merula shouted one last warning their way.
"The night is dark and full of terror, Daphne Greengrass! Don't make the same mistakes I did!"
"Who was that? How do you know her?"
"Shut up. It's not important."
"Did you see her hair?"
Daphne didn't wait to hear what she had to say. She pushed Tracey head-first into the fireplace, which erupted in a green light as she vanished. She stepped in next, felt the ever-familiar tingling sensation, and appeared back in the office of their Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.
"Where's Snape?"
She didn't answer.
After emerging from the fire, a choking coldness had enveloped her. As her breaths became ragged and shallow, she moved them quickly from the room. The corridors were deserted and their echoey vastness felt as though they were closing in around her. Through the window, clouds twisted and darkened above them, brewing a powerful storm, yet there was not a hint of wind. The stillness over the ground was startling, in fact. Never before had the castle felt so empty, so dead.
Something was happening, she could sense it. This wasnt her anxiety playing tricks on her, there was something was wrong with Hogwarts.
"Daffy! Will you slow down!? What's going on? Who was that?"
She was breathless when she tried to answer. It strained her brain to put all the emotions and realisations she was suffering through into words.
"I can sense… something. A disturbance."
"What, in the force?"
"The force?" she repeated, ridiculously.
"Yanno, the force? It's what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all livin' things. Surrounds us and penetrates us..." Tracey gestured grandly around her. "It binds the galaxy together."
Though she had no idea what a Jedi was, she couldn't deny that indeed felt like an accurate description of what she was experiencing right now.
"Yes… then..." she muttered, "... there's been a disturbance in the force."
She and Tracey looked at each other. They didn't need to say anything, they both understood each other perfectly. The drunken drama of the night before couldn't have been further away now.
"What do we do?" Tracey asked asked her, hotly.
"Will you make sure Astoria is okay?"
Her face churned unpleasantly; Daphne knew what was coming before she opened her mouth.
"Sod that, I'm coming with you."
"Tracey, please? Just this once, for me? Find her and make sure she's safe? Protect her, if needs be?"
A pleading look took Traceys face.
"If there's danger, I'm not leaving you..."
"If there's danger…" she repeated, breathing quick. "Then there's nobody I trust more to look after her than you."
That was from the heart. Tracey was a powerful witch, she jusy lacked the skills to apply herself properly. She could hold her own in a fight, and she knew she was the only one she'd trust to handle Astoria. Tracey, it seemed, appeared to hear her mental plea. At once, a rare thing happened and Tracey Davis backed down. It was with an obvious discomfort, but clearly something inside had clicked, and she nodded.
"I won't let you down."
They began to move away from each other; Tracey towards the dungeons, Daphne into the void, wherever the ominous feeling was to drag her.
"Daffy?"
She turned for a final look at Tracey, who seemed unusually emotional again.
"Please... be careful."
They took off in opposite directions. She didn't know where she was going - she was chasing a feeling on a whim. It was similar to how she felt earlier, knowing she'd recognised Merula but not being able to place it, only infinitely more intense. It lead her to eighth floor, the only floor with no classrooms on. And it was similarly abandoned.
The feeling in her head increased the higher she got, until she came around the final corner, and finally saw the feeling for what it was. A lone figure stood at the end of a shadowy corridor. Even at this distance, she could recognise the silhouette. She recognised the feeling had at once - it had not been the behaviour of some ominous sixth sense, but rather the work of a skilled telepath.
"What is happening?" she demanded, announcing her presence.
The figure did not flinch. She came to its side, and saw a starling expression etched on the face of Severus Snape. He glanced at her - a pathetic look, like she was nothing more to him than a poor beggar on the street.
"When you first involved yourself in the prophecy…" he began, slowly. "I thought you were a fool. A hormonal child who couldn't leave well enough alone… but now I see the truth. I see that you and I are much the same. In the coming power vacuum, we must work together to seize whatever power we can. That is the only way we will survive what's to come. The Slytherin way is not living in secret."
She blinked.
What did he mean? What was happening? She could sense at once this was not mere theatrics, but a pivotal conversation she had been thrown into. As she tried to fight her confusion to respond, her Professor continued, and said words that made her stomach sink.
"The Dark Lord's forces have penetrated the castle."
Perhaps it was the emptiness of the castle getting to her, but she could have sworn the words echoed a number of times before quieting down.
How long had they been away? Had her comeuppance finally caught up to her? Was her father, at this very moment, leading a charge through the corridors towards her, blasting the killing curse at anything they came across? Where was Harry? Was he safe? Was he alright? If he knew Death Eaters were here, he would no doubt be charging towards them right now with his wand out. Would she be responsible for his death, by leading them here? What about Sirius, Tonks or Professor Dumbledore? Did they know? Were they currently sacrificing their own lives so that she might escape?
She wanted to, but struggled to draw her wand.
"How?" her voice shook. "W-what do we do? Where is Professor Dumbledore?"
Professor Snape gave a long, tired sigh, still manning his gaze across the grounds.
"We obey the plan. The plan is the only thing that matters…"
She frowned at him.
"The plan?"
He looked at her again - but different, this time. More intense, and there was revulsion and hatred in the lines of his face.
"The puppeteering of our dear Headmaster…" he scowled, "... not even I was made aware of the complexities of its design. I will play the role that has been given to me tonight, as will you. We will survive the chaos that is about to come, but the world that greets us on the other side will not be the same one. Everything changes tonight."
Her role? What was changing? Though her mind was struggling to decipher his cryptic meaning, her heart had no problem understanding. She asked the question she prayed would never cross her lips.
"Are they here to kill Harry? Or are they for me?"
He shook his head once.
"That luxury of Harry Potter belongs to the Dark Lord and him only. You, my dear… your time has finally come. No longer content with allowing you to dance the line of injustice, you get the honour of delivering him tonight. That is the order he has given you. And it is on his orders I am delivering you this task."
The Professor ignored the moan of pain and shock she produced at hearing his words.
She had known this day would come eventually. Despite the attempts by all those she loved around her to convince her otherwise, no amount of protection could ever truly convince her she had ever been free of the Dark Lord's grasp. She knew the day would come where she was plunged right back into it - and she had known that day today from the second she stepped foot back into the castle.
Her eyes burned with tears as she shook her head.
"I won't do it. I will not betray Harry. Not after what he has done for me! I'm not a Death Eater! I'll die before I turn against him!"
Then, something happened that sent a shiver along her neck and down her spine.
"Did you ever wonder what exactly it was the Dark Lord was after in the Department of Mysteries?" he smirked cruelly.
The truth was - no. She had certainly wondered what Harry's prophecy had entailed, but it had simply never come up. It was her understanding that it had smashed before he'd been able to hear it - and otherwise, they tried to avoid discussing deeper topics whenever they had the chance.
"There was a prophecy written," he started. "It foretold that the Dark Lord would mark Harry Potter as his equal. Only he would have the power to vanquish him, so the Dark Lord deliberately set out to exterminate him as a baby. By failing to do so, he succeeded, however, in setting the prophecy into motion. Now, only they have the power to kill each other. Potter is the key to everything and as such, Dumbledore groomed him for that role."
Her hands were trembling - but she still could not find the power to grasp her wand. She did not attempt to argue with what she was being told. Oblivious to her ragged breaths, he continued.
"Your Headmaster, the so-called greatest sorcerer who ever lived... Is behind everything. We are but pawns in his grand plan. He has been manipulating us all from the shadows since the beginning, as the puppet master often does. It is his scheme that the boy will die in the final battle."
Her knees collapsed and she thudded against the window ledge. Blinking away venomous tears, she fought for her words.
"He... has to die?"
Professors Snape's pale face, illuminated only by the darkening sky, was suffused with hatred.
"A piece of Voldemort lives within him, one that can only be killed by Voldemort himself. They are destined to share the same fate. Neither can live while the other survives, so they must die together."
Was this a nightmare? It had to be - this couldn't be happening. Everything was normal a few days ago. She couldn't accept what he was telling her.
The support she had on the wall failed her. Her hands slipped off the stonewall - her palms were dripping in sweat. She hit the floor, all her effort focusing on not vomiting.
This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. She wanted to blast Severus Snape out of the window for creating such lies. She always believed - perhaps foolishly - that she and Harry could outlive the war if they were careful about it. But if he was destined to kill or be killed by the Dark Lord, that meant they had to tackle the war head-on, rather than trying to avoid it. That suddenly put all new connotations to their relationship. She would never abandon him, nor would she wouldn't sacrifice their relationship for everything. Which meant that she, as well as him, were destined to take on the Dark Lord.
She said - he had said - that they would work through this together. They would work through it together and then they would be together. They were supposed to have a future together. Get married, get a house and have children together. It had never been so much as said, but had been the future she'd been working towards.
Her swarming thoughts did nothing but tell her all these things she could have done to prevent this. The man she loved - the man she had planned to have a future with - was destined to die. Never to come back. To leave her to pick up the pieces alone, forever. What had she done wrong? What had changed? She had only one chance in this life and she had failed him. She would have to live with that guilt forever - he would not. Nothing in her life was worth more than him.
"That's not true…" she groaned.
Terror tore at her heart. Her body was reawakening - it was not magic holding her still, but sickness. Professor Snape had made no effort to help her as she collapsed and likewise, as she tried dragged herself to her feet, he offered no support.
"... I know Harry…" she continued, sickly, "I know he will not die that easy. That prophecy is wrong. The Order of the Phoenix can stop him! Professor Dumbledore can stop him!"
Professor Snape looked simply down at her, the little of his face that could be seen through shadow completely blank, emotionless.
"I'm going to ask you something, Greengrass. All pretences completely abandoned, I want nothing but the unadulterated, honest truth. Will you do that for me?"
Not seeing much other option, she noddes.
"Do you love the boy?"
She didn't even hesitate, and spoke the answer clearest to her.
"Always."
A look of sudden resolve formed on the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professors face.
"Then together, you and I can prevent it from happening."
She felt an icy sting in her stomach at the possibility. In the silence and the stillness, a terrified hope rose inside her.
"The mission the Dark Lord set for you tonight is to capture the boy, and ensure the Death Eaters safely escort him out of the castle. The mission that I am giving you… should you choose to accept it... is to keep him away from those who seek to harm him. Tonight, we are deviating from the plan. This may be our only chance to actually have an effect in this world."
She couldn't trust him, was the first thought that leapt to mind. But if there was even a hint of truth in the tale he had spun her tonight, if there was a chance Severus Snape truly was the only one on her side...
Daphne cleared her throat of it's panic.
"I will help you. Whatever it takes."
There it was. No compromise. No conditions. If there was a chance at changing their fate, she would take it. Whatever it took.
He nodded his head; his expression sure, but for the first time, a hint of fear flashing across it.
"Battles are going to break out. The boy will arrive at the Astronomy Tower in an hour's time; intercept him there and do whatever you can to protect him. He will try to intervene and help, but he mustn't be allowed. Whatever happens - whatever you may hear or see - it is imperative you both keep away. The Dark Lord has long expected your treachery, if your true allegiance is revealed then the Death Eaters have orders to execute you. Neither your father nor I will be able to prevent this."
"My father is coming?"
He did not answer this. Instead, he fixed her with a gaze. Again in a very short amount of time, she saw a look she could never have imagined on her long-time Professors face. The face of concern.
"The two of you must survive, do you understand? At any costs. Nothing else matters now," he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
It happened at once. Her time wallowing in her misery was done. There was a plan now, there was hope. Now, rising at alarming speed within her, was the idea that if she could find Harry right now, find him before the Death Eaters did, then they still had a chance at reversing this fate.
Her eyes dried instantly, as if her tear ducts were sucking the liquid right back into her skull. She pushed herself the rest of the way up the wall and finally brought out her wand.
Nothing was going to stop her tonight. If she died, she would fall ensuring the safety of those she loved. She would die for the right reasons - so that others could live in her place. Tonight she would die a Gryffindor.
"I understand," she stated, then after a second, she raised an eyebrow, "... But... why? Why are you doing this?"
"I have my own reasons. Do not come after me."
With a mutual nod, the snakes shed their skin and parted ways.
- Wakanda Forever -
