A/N: Howdy everyone! Check out the HAPHNE discord #fanart for the illustrations from my wife. As always, thank you to those who review, favorite, follow and PM! See you next week!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just happy to be here!
Chapter 26
November 21, 1995 (British Ministry of Magic – Morning)
The rhythmic, gentle scratching atop Daphne's head calmed her nerves and kept the nightmares at bay as she struggled to find a brief reprieve from the emotional hurricane she was forced to swim in. Morgana! She was thankful Astoria was able to sleep soundly, despite what all had happened.
Granted, having a basilisk infused with Harry Potter's magic was a huge contributor to Astoria's ability to sleep easily.
Daphne whimpered and a gentle hum brought calm to her mind, just as the continual scratching fought the terrors sitting on the edge of her consciousness. A tear leaked from Daphne's eye, disappearing as it was absorbed by the robe of Minerva McGonagall, who had become like a grandmother to both Greengrass girls.
"Sleep, Daphne," Minerva comforted softly. "You won't have to testify. That man will be pumped with enough Veritaserum that even Voldemort himself would reveal his darkest secrets."
Daphne trembled at the thought of seeing him again. Of what he could still do. Her Mind Healers had assured her that the immediate trigger words were nullified, but Daphne still had her doubts.
"I can't," Daphne mumbled wearily, her teeth chattering.
She heard a swishing sound and suddenly a blanket was draped over her. Of course, the Transfiguration Master of Hogwarts could easily conjure something as trivial as a blanket. Daphne opened her eyes to watch Minerva point her wand at the blanket, and suddenly she was cocooned in warmth. She drew the blanket tighter around her, sighing tremulously.
It had not been a good week.
Okay, maybe that was unfair. It had been a great week for justice. The Trials had started in earnest, beginning with the Minister of Magic himself who, after forcibly receiving five drops of Veritaserum, had revealed a level of corruption that staggered the Wizarding World.
Of course, the Kingpin of the operation was quickly derived: Lucius Malfoy.
Fudge was convicted of high treason and sentenced to the Veil. The cowardly man kicked, screamed, and begged all the way through until all that was left was a ghostly silence. At least, that's what the papers said.
Umbridge was next, her malevolence and depravity swiftly uncovered. The woman loved torturing children. Upon learning that, many took great pleasure in noting the wounds Harry Potter had inflicted on the foul creature persisted and ailed her. She, like her beloved ex-Minister, screamed like a banshee all the way through the Veil.
Daphne had taken great pleasure reading that article. Served the bitch right.
Snape was next and he presented a conundrum that set a precedence which was the reason for Daphne's rising fear. Despite his considerable Occlumency skills, the Veritaserum did its job and Snape spilled his darkest secrets, revealing he was a double – or was it a triple? – agent.
He carried a deep-seeded hatred for James Potter, a disturbing obsession with Lily Potter, and by proxy, an unmitigated loathing for Harry Potter. Daphne was relieved to note that he did not cast any compulsions, obliviations, or confunding charms on her.
But he had been aware of them.
And he'd done nothing.
That alone earned him Azkaban. Daphne, however, wanted more.
Snape was confirmed a Death Eater, and what he'd done to the muggle girl during his initiation ritual made Daphne want to vomit. When asked where his true allegiance lay, Snape was unable, even under Veritaserum, to respond. It seemed he was truly undecided, and this caused the Wizengamot to deliberate for many hours as they knew their handling of this man would set precedence for future cases.
Deciding to delay and hope for something concrete, further questions were asked. Snape confessed to knowing that Peter Pettigrew was an unregistered Animagus and Death Eater. He also confessed to knowingly freeing the rat when Harry had captured him third year.
That made Daphne hate Snape more than she thought possible. She wasn't alone, as just about all of Magical Britain knew the truth of Sirius Black, his innocence, his noble, heroic sacrifice, and the pain Harry Potter suffered from his Godfather's death.
Then it came out that Dumbledore had instructed Snape to ensure Pettigrew went free, that it was absolutely essential. Another conundrum. Did they throw Snape through the Veil, or did they use his testimony against Dumbledore?
More questions followed, ending with one that rattled and confused many. Was Snape aware that Cyrus Greengrass was a secret Death Eater?
Snape had answered no.
They asked why he didn't react when Harry revealed the truth in his memories.
Snape responded that he did react, but his Occlumency training allowed him to hide his reaction.
In the end, it was decided that Snape would not be thrown through the Veil… yet. His testimony could prove useful in the future, and so Snape was cast into the deepest cells of Azkaban, where his sentence would be issued later.
It was only the understanding that Albus Dumbledore would soon face trial that had retained calm in Wizarding Britain at this decision. Daphne, however, had suffered greatly from it.
If Snape could get out of the Veil, did that mean Cyrus could as well? Sirius had escaped Azkaban. Could Cyrus?
Would Daphne's father come back to finish whatever it was he started with her?
She knew her thoughts were bathed in unreasonable fear, considering the captured Death Eaters, Dumbledore, and Hogwarts Five – Draco, Nott, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle – were under round-the-clock guard. Daphne's mind had not been her own, however, for over a year.
And she had no defense against the myriad of 'What ifs' that assailed her.
Then came two days ago, when the Hogwarts Five were tried. In short, Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to understand what was happening and had been relatively ignorant of the overall actions of the other three. Their instruction from their fathers had simply been to follow orders and act as bodyguards.
Daphne took comfort when they had their wands snapped and were expelled.
Criminal association, at least with this Ministry, carried a hefty penalty.
Nott and Zabini were much more in-the-know, but ultimately were following orders from Cyrus and Lucius. They earned ten years in Azkaban, as well as having their wands snapped and expulsion.
Then it had been Draco's turn.
Daphne groaned as she sat up, tears falling from her eyes as she shook her head in a futile attempt to remove the memories. She had been forced to be present for those five trials, despite her reluctance. She knew Draco had some of the trigger words that could alter her personality and thoughts.
It was only when Minerva explained that Draco would be in magical-suppressing handcuffs that she stopped protesting and surrendered to the inevitable. It was during that trial that she finally received a glimpse into what exactly had been done.
Draco proudly explained how his father knew all along about Cyrus Greengrass being a secret Death Eater. How they constantly bragged about controlling the dark and neutral factions of the Wizengamot. How they thought it wise to unify their houses through a marriage, especially since Draco so thoroughly lusted after Daphne.
With Astoria suffering a blood curse, it was determined Daphne would be perfect.
Then she began associating with Harry Potter, starting with an impromptu meeting in Diagon Alley. When Harry saved Daphne in the Chamber of Secrets, Cyrus had been forced, despite Malfoy's protestations, to acquiesce to Harry escorting Daphne, lest he risk a life debt being called.
That's when Lucius and Cyrus concocted a devious plan to utilize Daphne while simultaneously preparing her for Draco. What followed had caused Daphne to dry heave and eventually retch several times while Minerva held her and tried her best to comfort her. Daphne had felt the elder woman trembling with barely contained rage as the air crackled with magic that oozed out of Minerva in waves.
Using a method of magical control invented and utilized by Grindelwald during the Wizarding World War, Cyrus had implanted trigger words within Daphne's subconscious that would alter her perceptions and make her much more susceptible to confundings and compulsions.
Much to his pleasure, Draco had been assigned as a handler with explicit instruction to carry out having Daphne be seen with Nott and then Zabini, thus stringing Potter along while they prepared him for the eventual resurrection of the Dark Lord.
Draco bemoaned the fact that Daphne fought the controls almost daily, especially when subjected to any contact with him. Thus, he had moved to the shadows, showing a level of cunning and deviousness most had no idea he possessed. Nott and Zabini became the front men and Draco triggered Daphne as necessary.
The only condition that came with this level of control was the boys were explicitly forbidden from doing anything untoward and physical with the girl. The kiss Nott forced upon Daphne had been approved by Cyrus in hopes of devastating Potter's confidence while they put the final touches on the plan to have Harry transported to the graveyard.
Draco was assured Daphne would be his when the time was right. The foul prick then pontificated his deepest, sickest desires to the entirety of the Wizengamot, causing Daphne to nearly faint from the horror of what Draco planned to do to her. Several had drawn wands by the time he was done, and it took several minutes for people to settle before the trial could resume.
In the end, Draco Malfoy was sentenced to life in Azkaban. The Wizengamot could not sentence him to the Veil as he was underaged. In some ways, Azkaban was considered less humane than the Veil, but no one challenged the verdict. Once his wand was snapped, Draco was expelled from Hogwarts. Utterly disgraced, Draco was led out of the courtroom as the Veritaserum faded.
But he had one final parting shot. The words he'd shouted in Daphne's direction still echoed in her mind.
You'll never be free, Greengrass! You're mine! And when I have you, I will make you suffer every injustice that has been carried out this day! You will beg for mercy and receive none! Oh, how I long for the day when I can f-
Mercifully, an auror stunned the bastard before he could finish.
Daphne, on the verge of a mental meltdown, begged Minerva to take her away. The elderly woman immediately acquiesced and grabbed Astoria's hand. Astoria wore a devastated expression as she observed her big sister. As soon as they exited the Ministry and apparated to Minerva's home, Daphne asked something that shattered the usually stern woman's composure.
"C-can I- I p-please tak-ke a ba-bath?" Daphne managed to hiccup out. "I f-feel d-dirt-y."
Then there was yesterday, although Daphne was not required at that trial, seeing as it was Lucius Malfoy's. She was thankful for that, and Minerva allowed her to sleep most of the day, although it was broken and littered with nightmares that only abated when Astoria or Minerva were nearby. Even then, they still came on occasion, although their impact was lessened.
It was sometime late that evening that articles were published in the papers regarding the results of Lucius's trial. The man had been, as suspected, a veritable goldmine of information on Death Eaters, Voldemort, and their activities. He had spent an hour alone condemning Cyrus for ruining the Dark Lord's plans, as if this was going to lighten his sentence.
The Wizengamot debated administering the Dementor's Kiss to Lucius, but determined it was far safer to send him through the Veil. Croaker himself spoke and explained that dementors still roamed this plane and it was unknown if they somehow maintained access to the souls they kissed.
By sending criminals through the Veil, they ensured there was zero chance of said criminal coming back. No one, Croaker explained in his monotone voice, came back from the Veil.
The calm, pompous, confident façade of Lucius Malfoy broke when he realized he was being moved toward the Veil. His Dark Lord, who he clearly was confident would come rescue his most faithful, did not show. Lucius's final moments were spent screaming like a teenaged girl. So dramatic were his 'death throes' that those present were forced to bite back laughter…
Daphne felt herself being gently shaken and sighed as she sat up and brushed her hair from her eyes. She looked up at Minerva who had a sympathetic, toothless smile on her face. Daphne blinked and rubbed her bleary eyes as Astoria stirred awake next to her.
"Is it time?" Daphne mumbled.
"Yes, dear," Minerva nodded and stood. "Remember, Daphne, we are sitting in a victim protection booth. No one will see you, and Cyrus is unaware you are in attendance."
Daphne shivered and nodded, happily accepting her baby sister's offered hand. The nearby doors, previously sealed with magic, opened silently to reveal a comfortable room with refreshments and a private bathroom. Minerva ushered them inside and the door closed and resealed itself. For safety purposes, Minerva added several of her own considerable repertoire of spells to ensure the door was sealed and privacy was maintained.
Daphne robotically took a nearby seat, staring out a glass window down into the courtroom where the Wizengamot was slowly making their way to their seats. Eventually, everyone was seated, and Cyrus was brought into the courtroom. Daphne felt tears of rage blur her vision as she stared at the man who had violated her mind.
She could only hope that he did not go quietly through the Veil.
-GU-
November 21, 1995 (Somewhere in America - Midday)
"Thank you again for joining me on this little adventure, Fleur," Harry said graciously as he offered his hand for Fleur as they disembarked.
"Merci, 'Arry," Fleur shot him a dazzling smile. "And thank you for getting me a private room."
"I felt it appropriate," Harry shrugged casually.
Fleur giggled as Harry gave her a lopsided grin. The cruise was fantastic, and Harry was thoroughly enjoying his time with Fleur. She really was a wonderful Witch when you got to know her. Harry cleared his throat and nervously ran a hand through his hair while Fleur tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and studied him.
"I think I'm going to see the mountains next…" Harry trailed off. "Would you, uh, like to accompany me?"
Fleur blushed prettily but shook her head. "Non, 'Arry. It has been…" she searched for the proper word, "difficult for me, not using magic."
Harry managed to withhold his frown, courtesy of his Occlumency.
"It is not that I did not enjoy the ship," Fleur indicated the massive muggle vessel behind her. "I just find that I enjoy magic more than some of the mundane things muggles have to offer for entertainment."
Harry managed a stiff nod, his eyes reflecting his understanding, although below the surface he found himself disappointed.
"You could always come with me to France, oui?" Fleur offered.
Harry smiled gently and shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Fleur," he sighed. "I have no interest in Magical Britain, or Europe for that matter."
Fleur deflated and idly twiddled her thumbs, clearly displeased with his answer. "Even if I offered to…" she blushed heavily. "Be closer with you?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. A week on a cruise ship, spending nearly every waking hour together, and they hadn't so much as kissed. Now she was offering to be closer? What did that even mean? Harry would readily admit that Fleur was bloody gorgeous, and any chance to be 'closer' with her had massive appeal.
But he was done with that world. He valued his freedom far too much.
"By closer, do you mean date?" Harry attempted to clarify.
"Oui."
Now that was interesting. Harry certainly wasn't opposed to it. After all, he had thrown off the shackles that formerly controlled him… But Fleur's offer, while enticing, came with a condition that he simply couldn't accept.
"I'd love to, Fleur," Harry admitted warmly and held up his hand as she prepared to surge forward. "Date you, that is."
Fleur cocked her head to the side, her face scrunching cutely in confusion.
"I'm not going back," Harry reiterated. "This is my world now."
Fleur frowned and bit her lower lip. "…I see." She sighed heavily. "I cannot forsake my magic, 'Arry."
"Nor would I ask you to."
"Non," Fleur shook her head. "But you 'ave."
Harry looked confused.
"In this world," she explained as she gestured around her, "we cannot freely use our magic. We 'ave to keep it secret. That is not the life I wish to live, 'Arry."
Harry deflated but nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry, Fleur."
She rolled her eyes and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before leaning forward and whispering into his ear.
"It is an open offer, 'Arry, should you ever change your mind."
Harry blinked as she pulled away, his mind blanking due to her proximity and heady cinnamon smell.
"And I may join you on future adventures," Fleur admitted with a smirk. "Just not this immediate one you wish to undertake."
Harry grinned and gently took her hand, kissing the knuckles. "Then I look forward to our next excursion, Miss Delacour."
"Merci, 'Arry," Fleur giggled. "I look forward to it too. Will you contact me with your phoenix?"
"Fawkes isn't mine," Harry reminded her politely. "Either Fawkes or Dobby will contact you though, yes."
Satisfied, Fleur blew him a kiss and disappeared with a pop!
Harry observed the empty space for several moments before shaking his head to clear his mind. He stretched luxuriously and suppressed a yawn.
"Guess I'll try flying in an airplane next," Harry mused aloud. "Probably a good idea to find a flat too… But first I should figure out which state I want to live in." As he called for Dobby, a sudden thought struck him, causing him to laugh. "Why one? I can have a flat in all fifty if I desire."
-GU-
November 21, 1995 (Hogwarts - Evening)
Daphne sat atop her dormitory bed with Astoria beside her. Both girls were still processing what they overheard their father say under Veritaserum. The man was clearly deranged, it was the only probable explanation. His adherence to the Pureblood dogma was staggering, and his desire to return to the old ways, whatever those were, was clearly stated by the man.
Daphne did have one vindictive pleasure moment, however. It was when Cyrus learned that Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, was a half-blood himself. The look on his face when the reality of that revelation sunk in… Daphne was glad the papers captured it, although she would never keep a picture of that person.
She just wanted to forget.
It turned out Astoria and Daphne were not far off the mark when they had debated there being three agendas, and that Voldemort did not instruct Cyrus to do as he had. Cyrus was working his own angle in the Death Eater cult.
He wanted to see the pureblood dogma and old ways returned. He wanted Daphne to be married off to Malfoy, thus giving him access to the Malfoy family wealth once he murdered Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius. He wanted Harry Potter to suffer for daring to set eyes on his perfect pureblooded daughter.
Cyrus regarded Astoria as nothing more than a footnote. A dying person who was of no use to him. Unable to be wed, unable to contribute, no strong magical capacity… The list went on. Astoria had sobbed bitterly hearing the true feelings of her father.
Then Cyrus had detailed the memory alterations and charms he'd placed on his eldest, proudly explaining that she was being molded into the perfect Pureblood. Daphne could only hear how her father was willingly planning to sell her into slavery and a fate far worse than death.
The relief she felt when Cyrus Greengrass was forced through the Veil was indescribable. The tears she shed were a mixture of relief, joy, and sorrow. The sorrow was not for that man though. It was for how much damage he had done to his wife and daughters.
Mental, physical, and emotional fatigue threatened to overwhelm Daphne, who was gently escorted back to her dorm where she wrapped her arms around her baby sister and cried herself to sleep while Sasha lay curled at the foot of the bed, a silent protector.
"He's gone, Daph," Astoria said hoarsely, having just woken up minutes before. A quick Tempus revealed it was early evening, meaning they both had slept the day away.
Daphne nodded mutely, tears streaking down her cheeks as she stared at the mirror near her feet.
"Andromeda still hasn't answered?" Astoria asked softly once she spotted the mirror.
Daphne shook her head, strands of her hair falling from her messy bun. She pulled her knees up to her chin and sniffled.
"I'm worried about you, Daffy," Astoria said as she tentatively reached her hand out to grasp Daphne's. "You know it's going to-"
"Don't say it!" Daphne snapped in a watery voice. "Don't say it's going to be okay, Tori! It's not okay!"
Astoria sighed as Daphne began weeping bitterly.
"I feel so dirty!" Daphne wailed. "I never got to apologize! I never got to explain…" she trailed off, dissolving into sniffles, sobs, and hiccups.
"You're right," Astoria finally admitted sadly. "Daph? Will… Will you promise me something?"
Daphne didn't respond.
"Just promise me you'll live," Astoria pleaded softly. "Please?"
Daphne's shoulders bobbed with silent sobs.
"For me?" Astoria pressed, her voice choking with her emotion. "I don't know what I'll do without you, Daffy."
Daphne sniffled and wiped her nose before flashing a toothless smile.
"Don't call me that," she said huskily with a teasing grin.
Astoria sobbed and threw herself forward, hugging her older sister with all her might.
"I love you, Daphne."
"I love you too, Astoria," Daphne whispered. "And I promise I'll live."
"Thank you," Astoria whimpered as she buried her face in Daphne's shoulder.
-GU-
November 28, 1995 (Hogwarts – Morning)
"You know, I think it could be argued that Dumbledore was crazier than Voldemort," Astoria said over breakfast as she ate with her older sister.
True to her word, Daphne had done her best to live. Knowing she wasn't going to have friends while at Hogwarts, she had dived into her studies, determined to get as many OWLS and NEWTS as possible. She knew she was going to need them if she had any hope of finding a job after Hogwarts.
The looks and whispers Daphne received had dwindled since the trial of Cyrus Greengrass was made public, but few people were cordial, and none would converse with her. The stigma of being the girl who broke Harry Potter's heart persisted, it seemed. That, or people were downright terrified of what Sasha would do if they threatened her or Astoria.
Probably both, Daphne thought as Astoria waved a Daily Prophet article in the air before finally thrusting it in Daphne's face.
Irritably, the girl snatched the paper and began reading while Astoria drummed her fingers on the table. Eventually, Daphne set the paper down with a huff.
"Harry has to die?" she questioned incredulously. "He literally watched Harry pull the horcrux from his scar!"
"Right?" Astoria bobbed her head. "He's gone senile, I tell you!"
"It says here he argued openly with Croaker during the trial," Daphne read aloud. "Croaker! The Head Unspeakable who has studied Death for thirty plus years!"
Astoria munched on some toast as Daphne continued reading.
"Everything Dumbledore did was meant to isolate Harry so that he would want to die…" Daphne paled. "Th- that's horrible!"
"And it's exactly what Harry suspected in his memories," Astoria nodded somberly.
Daphne began rapidly turning the pages, wanting to get to the punishment. "Did they send him through the Veil?"
"Nope," Astoria flinched when Daphne slammed the paper down on the table.
"What?!"
"They gave him to the Goblins," Astoria grinned evilly.
"That's…" Daphne's eyes widened comically. "Oh!"
"Mmhmm," Astoria rubbed Sasha's snout, causing the basilisk to purr. "Turns out they were quite livid with Dumbledore about the whole Potter will thing."
Daphne blinked.
"He also obliviated a significant amount of Gringotts employees," Astoria inspected her fingernails.
"I'm surprised they even let him go to trial in the Wizengamot," Daphne muttered.
"Well, it seems they wanted the news published for the world to see," Astoria nodded. "But the verdict was Dumbledore was to go to the Goblins, and he did."
"…And?" Daphne demanded.
"…And the Goblins sentenced Dumbledore to four hundred years of hard labor in the Goblin mines," Astoria smirked. "Manual labor while under three sets of magical suppression cuffs."
Daphne furrowed her brow. Three sets seemed excessive… But with a titan like Dumbledore, it was probably necessary.
"Four hundred years?" Daphne prompted.
Astoria shrugged. "Who knows where they got that number. What does it matter? The loon is serving hard time!"
Daphne hummed and returned to her breakfast. Astoria wasn't wrong.
-GU-
March 25, 1996 (Undisclosed Location – Evening)
Lord Voldemort sat in a filthy muggle home he'd commandeered after murdering the previous owners and feeding their corpses to Nagini, who had been most gracious for her meal. It had taken him some time, but he'd finally captured and extracted a memory of a reporter who had been in the Great Hall during Potter's little show.
Now, sitting before a pensieve while Nagini guarded him, Voldemort observed firsthand what Harry had shared. Hours later he emerged, his mind racing as he idly stroked Nagini.
"It would seem those fools have caused far more harm than they realized," Voldemort said to his familiar, who was also a living horcrux. "They deserved whatever punishment they received from the Ministry."
His hand reflexively tightened its grip on his wand. "It is far better they found release in death… I would not have been merciful to them, Nagini."
The large snake hissed and bared her fangs.
"But it seems we have encountered a problem-" Voldemort hesitated when he heard a foreign sound. Smirking, he stood and hissed softly in parseltongue. Nagini slinked off into the shadows while Voldemort stalked into the next room where he found three men awaiting him.
"Hit Wizards," Voldemort said in his lethal, hissing whisper that carried much further than anticipated. "So few? I find myself disappointed."
"Tom Rid-" the middle Wizard began but fell silent as a killing curse, faster than any could react, shot into him.
"Do you know how many of your kind I have killed?" Voldemort drawled as the right Hit Wizard suddenly shrieked as Nagini struck multiple times.
The last Hit Wizard standing, distracted, never saw the cutting curse that separated his head cleanly from his body. Nagini hissed with pleasure as she began to feed.
"This would make thirty-two," Voldemort scoffed before a sudden idea came to him. "Come, Nagini. We have stayed in the shadows far too long. It is time to remind the world why Lord Voldemort must be feared."
Voldemort didn't look down as he stepped over the limp bodies and exited through the front door.
-GU-
June 20, 1996 (Hogwarts – Evening)
Daphne breathed a sigh of relief as she sat down at the end of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall and began to prepare a plate for her dinner. The OWLS were done, and she was fairly confident she had achieved at least an Exceeds Expectations in every course.
Not like I have anything better to do with my time, Daphne thought. At least it keeps me busy.
"Hiya, Daffy!" Astoria beamed as she sat down next to her sister. "How did it go?"
Daphne hummed as she chewed. "I think I did well enough to get an E."
"That's fantastic!" Astoria gushed. "I'm so proud of you, Daffy!"
Daphne forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you, Tori."
"So, are you going to come home?" Astoria questioned as she began loading a plate for herself, blissfully unaware of Daphne's melancholy. "Mum's been home for two weeks now, you know!"
Daphne nodded but didn't reply. She did know that. Their mum had visited them at Hogwarts just two weeks ago, after all, and it had been wonderful but…different. Aria Greengrass looked healthier and more like Daphne remembered, but her demeanor and her speech was drastically different.
When she observed Aria and Astoria sobbing joyfully as they held each other, Daphne realized she didn't really recognize her mother. It pained the girl, and she did her best to suppress the hurt she felt at the revelation. When Aria eventually moved to her, Daphne found she didn't have any tears to shed.
It was odd, considering Daphne cried at the drop of a hat. At least, that's what Astoria said when she felt it safe and appropriate to playfully tease. No, Daphne did feel something when her mother hugged her, but she would never admit it to anyone.
Anger.
Anger that her mum had allowed her husband to control and subvert her for over a decade while he did the same to her precious daughter. Why hadn't her mother fought? Why hadn't she resisted? Daphne knew from Cyrus's testimony that Daphne had given him fits due to her love for Harry and reluctance to hurt him, even if it was subconscious resistance.
Did her mother not love them enough to fight like that?
Daphne flinched, causing Astoria to glance at her with a raised eyebrow. That wasn't a fair question, Daphne knew. Her mother had been under an Unforgivable curse, after all. She sighed and dropped her fork, the clinking causing Astoria to look over at her.
"I don't think I can, Tori," Daphne whispered. "Home has been the source of my nightmares all week…"
Daphne trailed off and fell silent, struggling to find additional words to explain. As the Mind Healers continued to restore her memories, she found her emotions from those stolen moments returning as well. She had done exceptionally well in coping, or at least that's what her Mind Healers told her.
However, she still struggled with fear, especially when alone at night. That was when the nightmares came.
That was when Cyrus, even though he was gone, still managed to return.
Daphne knew she couldn't go home. Even though she could look past what happened with her mother and how she felt toward the woman, Daphne knew she could never set foot in the manor where Cyrus Greengrass had violated her mind.
The memory of when she was thirteen, staring out the window while in her room after having fought with her father over Harry surfaced in her mind. Her eyes watered reflexively.
"Daph?"
"I'm sorry, Tori," Daphne shook the memories away and sniffled. "I'm not going back to Greengrass Manor."
Astoria fiddled with her spoon. "Where will you stay?"
Daphne shot her baby sister a watery smile. "Probably with Minerva."
"Can I come visit?" Astoria questioned timidly.
"Of course, Tori," Daphne assured. "Any time you want."
There was a collective murmur as a flood of owls entered the Great Hall and began delivering papers to their subscribers. Daphne and Astoria removed their copy and huddled together.
"That's odd," Astoria frowned. "The papers run in the morning. Why would they release an evening edition?"
"Emergency," Daphne noted and then gasped. "There was a mass breakout in Azkaban!"
"Morgana's tits!" Astoria swore.
"Voldemort," Daphne shared her baby sister's sentiments. "He freed his inner circle."
Astoria pawed at the paper, forcing Daphne to lower it so she could read. "Anyone else escape?"
Daphne blanched.
"What?" Astoria poked Daphne in the ribs.
"Nott and Zabini were found…" she swallowed back bile. "Dismembered."
Astoria shuddered and paled. "Sounds like Voldemort was none too pleased with his former Death Eaters."
Daphne nodded. That did make sense, in a twisted sort of way. The timing added up too, seeing as how the Death Eater trials were finally coming to a close. There were only a handful of ex-Death Eaters to convict remaining. Voldemort had struck when people least expected it.
"The timing was clever, since many people expected him to attack the Department of Mysteries…" Daphne mumbled.
"True," Astoria nodded as she snatched the paper and began scouring it. "Sounds like the Ministry miscalculated by keeping such a heavy guard on the Department of Mysteries. Did you see? Voldemort single-handedly killed fifty aurors guarding the prison."
"That's because the dementors really like him, or so they say," Daphne shivered involuntarily at the memory of the foul creatures.
"But still…" Astoria trailed off. "Fifty, Daph?"
"It's insane," Daphne agreed. "And now he has ten of his most loyal and feared servants back under his control."
"And Snape," Astoria sighed. "Ugh!"
"Seriously?" Daphne rounded on her sister and looked over her shoulder. "Why would Voldemort free Snape?"
"Must have figured the git would be loyal to him," Astoria shrugged. "I still can't believe he managed to finagle staying alive as long as he has."
"It's because he always had something to add during testimonies," Daphne said bitterly.
As much as she hated admitting it, it was true. Snape was responsible for several Death Eaters meeting their fate via the Veil. It was a miracle he hadn't been somehow strangled in Azkaban, come to think of it.
Astoria's eyes disappeared into her bangs, provoking Daphne to prod her. "Tori?"
"You'll be happy to know Draco is no longer among the living," Astoria said in a breathy voice.
Daphne snatched the paper, furiously reading. She regretted it almost immediately, her stomach churning. "Oh…"
Voldemort had taken a vindictive pleasure in tearing Draco limb from limb, but only after skinning him alive. While Daphne was relieved Draco would never be able to carry out his depraved desires, she found herself feeling a twinge of remorse for the manner in which Draco was killed.
But it departed almost as quickly as it arrived.
"I have a bad feeling about this, Daffy," Astoria sighed as she set the paper down. "You promise I can come see you whenever I want?"
"Whenever you want, Tori," Daphne said firmly.
-GU-
June 23, 1996 (Somewhere in America – Midday)
"Fleur!" Harry greeted enthusiastically as Fleur appeared in his flat – er, apartment – via Fawkes. The Veela's eyebrows rose as she observed her friend.
"What are you wearing, 'Arry?"
Fawkes chirruped, almost as if he was laughing, and landed on Harry's hat.
"Oh, har har, Fawkes," Harry grumbled before grinning at Fleur. "I'm wearing what the locals wear, Fleur!"
Fleur cocked her head to the side as she studied Harry like he was some newly discovered creature. "Jeans, boots, belt, striped button shirt, and a… hat?"
"Yep!" Harry grinned. "It's all the rage! I spent a few weeks on a ranch, and this is what they all wore. Learned how to ride horses, rope cattle, and do farmhand stuff. It was great!"
Fleur scrunched her nose in disgust.
"Well, maybe not for a Veela," Harry rolled his eyes playfully and tipped his hat.
"I thought we were getting pedicures and manicures," Fleur pouted as she looked around. "Where are we, anyways?"
"Eh, one of my flats," Harry dismissed the question. "And we are getting manicures and pedicures. Well, a pedicure for me, anyway. After you introduced me to that first one, I've been hooked!" He clapped his hands and chuckled. "Just make sure you don't snap at Yen when she says we're a couple. She's adamant that I find Mrs. Potter."
Fleur blinked. "Yen?"
"You'll meet her," Harry waved his hand in the air as he took his hat off, causing Fawkes to squawk and fly away, chirping sharply. "Don't sass me, Fawkes!" Harry scolded.
"Well, he did tell you that outfit wouldn't be well-received by Fleur, dear," Rowena called from the wall.
"You look like a hippie!" Arcturus barked. "Show some class, boy!"
"I like it!" Salazar said. "Very intimidating!"
"See?" Harry poked Fawkes, who had landed on a nearby chair. The phoenix squawked dramatically. "Papa Sal gets it!"
"You would look dashing in that outfit," Rowena told Salazar with a giggle.
"Merlin's beard!" Arcturus groaned. "Will you two get a room?"
"Don't mind them," Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised you showed up so quickly, Fleur."
"No self-respecting Witch would turn down a free mani-pedi!" Fleur proclaimed proudly.
"Uh huh," Harry vanished into his room to change into something less 'offensive' to Fleur's eyes. "And the fact that it's muggles doing it without magic?" His muffled voice called from the master bedroom.
"That just makes it all the better!" Fleur explained loudly. "The muggles 'ave a way with their 'ands that magic cannot replicate."
If only she would see everything that way, Harry thought as he pulled a plain T-shirt over his head and emerged into the living room once more. It really would be lovely to date her, if she could stomach living in the muggle world. Oh well, she's a great friend and easy on the eyes…
"You're staring, 'Arry," Fleur giggled, blushing slightly.
"Just admiring your natural beauty, Fleur," Harry replied easily, long past getting flustered around the Veela.
Fleur blustered and sputtered but managed to compose herself. She lifted her nose imperiously and sniffed while dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"Well said! Now, take me to get pampered!"
"As Her Highness demands," Harry chuckled, earning him a playful smack.
As he opened the door for Fleur she paused and kissed him gently on the cheek.
"Merci, monsieur."
"My pleasure, mademoiselle."
Fleur mock gasped. "Why, 'Arry! You didn't butcher my native tongue!"
"Just for that, you're covering lunch," Harry said as he shut and locked his door.
Salazar, Rowena, and Arcturus all heard Harry's yelp as Fleur promptly hexed him for his cheek.
-GU-
June 30, 1996 (Hogwarts – Afternoon)
Daphne sat on her bed in her dormitory, sniffling heavily as tears ran down her cheeks. Today had been a very tough day. A crumpled newspaper sat atop her bed near the mirror Astoria had given her from Harry.
Daphne had long given up trying to contact anyone with it. In fact, she wasn't sure why she had brought it out again.
Yesterday afternoon, at lunch, news had broken that Voldemort had launched an assault on the Ministry in hopes of getting to the Department of Mysteries. Most assumed it was so he could prevent whatever Croaker planned to do to counter his horcruxes. The death toll had been staggering. Fifty-eight aurors, nearly eighty Ministry employees, and nearly one hundred visitors had fallen.
Voldemort had struck during peak hours for maximum chaos and damage. It almost worked, as the Death Eaters made it all the way to the Department of Mysteries, their limited numbers dwindling down to just a handful. When Bellatrix Lestrange fell, cut in half by a nasty cutting curse, Voldemort was finally forced to retreat, but not before he killed as many people as he could on the way out.
In the end, it was a victory for the Ministry, although it was bittersweet. So many had lost their lives, and it was little comfort that every Death Eater busted out of Azkaban had fallen in the assault.
All except for Snape, who had been oddly missing from the battle.
Then the Rita Skeeter article was released this morning, raining down on the Hogwarts populace. Daphne had been enjoying a relatively quiet end of the term, with most just ignoring her presence entirely.
She was okay with being ignored.
Unfortunately, for the first time, an article had posited a 'What if' scenario. What if Harry Potter, the Chosen One,had been present to defend the Ministry? Would so many have died? This had led to speculation about why Harry departed Britain and had not been spotted for months.
Oh, there had been alleged 'sightings', but it had quickly devolved into the equivalent of the American Sasquatch nonsense. Every week there was a new guaranteed sighting of Harry Potter, and they grew more and more ridiculous as time went on.
Of course, Rita eventually cut to the bone, as she usually did, and brought Daphne's name, actions, and plight back to the limelight. There were some platitudes thrown in the article, speaking on how Daphne had no control of her actions, recalling the trial of Cyrus Greengrass and his statements under Veritaserum.
But the result of the article was never in doubt. Daphne was once again hated by Magical Britain, especially those at Hogwarts. The scowls, whispers, and rumors began circulating anew, and Daphne suddenly found herself isolated and ostracized. Even Astoria and Sasha were unable to deter the vitriol this time around.
Daphne was beyond grateful that tomorrow she would head to Minerva's home, where she would spend the summer studying and preparing for her NEWTS. It sounded boring, but Daphne found solace in the boredom, as it kept her mind from considering just how wrong everything seemed to be.
"Just two more years," Daphne whispered to herself, clenching her fists as she bit back tears. "Then I'm done with this place."
But what will I do? Where will I go? Once I've graduated… Will anyone really hire me?
She shook her head irritably. Of course people would hire her if she had seven NEWTS. Besides, the vitriol and public opinion would go away with time. This was just a season propagated by Rita Skeeter.
What was it Lockhart used to say? Fame is a fickle friend… Daphne's expression dropped as she thought of Harry. Memories of the Chamber of Secrets flooded her, despite her feeble attempts at Occlumency to prevent them.
She could remember the real encounter now, and it matched Harry's perfectly. She remembered the fear and love that filled her when Harry protected her. The terror when Lockhart approached and how Harry had begged Fawkes to heal her.
Daphne recoiled when she felt moisture hitting her hands. She was crying again. She sighed and did her best to compose herself. The Mind Healers had explained she needed to let go and forgive herself. She was carrying a burden she didn't have to carry. She needed to move on from the guilt she carried for what happened with Harry Potter.
Daphne's body shook as she began sobbing heavily.
It wasn't like she wanted to hold on to the possibility she would see Harry again.
She just couldn't seem to let go.
Daphne curled into a ball and drew her knees to her chest as she cried. Half an hour later, an odd sound interrupted her 'healing session' – as the Mind Healers called it – and caused her to look up in confusion.
The mirror was beeping.
With a trembling hand, Daphne reached forward and grasped the handle.
"He- Hello?"
-GU-
June 30, 1996 (Unknown Location – Evening)
Voldemort paced irritably in one of his safe houses. The mere thought of needing a safe house filled the Dark Lord with rage. He had been so close! So close to halting that damned Croaker from interfering with his immortality!
"None have gone further than I in the Dark Arts!" Voldemort shouted in the room. Nagini hissed her displeasure as she raised her head to inspect her master. "Where was Severus? He has betrayed me!"
Magic oozed out of the Dark Lord and Nagini hissed contentedly as the foul aura seeped into her cold skin.
"Oh, Severus will suffer!" Voldemort promised his familiar. "As will the rest of Britain when I burn it to the ground!"
The Dark Lord ceased his pacing and grasped his chest, his breath hitching. Nagini began hissing and spitting, clearly in agony. Voldemort's eyes widened as he connected what was occurring.
"DAMN YOU, HARRY POTTER!" Voldemort screamed. "DAMN YOU, CROAKER!"
Nagini hissed and an unnatural, ethereal wail burst from the maw of the snake as a black ooze bled from her skin. A dark mist rose and dissipated in the air as Voldemort watched with growing dread. He recoiled as he felt an invisible impact on his very soul as the ritual Croaker was performing traced and attacked each of his horcruxes.
With a crack of apparation, Voldemort appeared at his cave, hastily speaking in parseltongue to dispel his blood wards. He stormed into the cavern where the locket of Salazar Slytherin himself was hidden. Another invisible impact caused the Dark Lord to stumble and hiss in agony. He looked at the pedestal and was pleased when he didn't hear a wail or see a mist.
Curious, the Dark Lord summoned the hidden boat and made his way to the island. He easily unwound the parseltongue enchantments and withdrew his locket, even as he felt another invisible impact and knew that Helga Hufflepuff's cup had been destroyed.
Voldemort frowned as he felt the locket in his hands. It looked like his locket, but it didn't feel like his locket. The Dark Lord commanded the locket to open in parseltongue.
It didn't respond.
A quick wave of his wand and a soul-revealing spell caused Voldemort's eyes to widen in alarm.
He shakily pried the locket open, even as he felt the Gaunt ring horcrux destroyed. Panting, sweat pouring down his chalky skin, Voldemort fumbled the paper housed in the locket and managed to catch it before it touched the lake. Breathing a sigh of relief, and disgusted with himself for even considering feeling fear, Voldemort unfurled the folded paper.
And screamed in rage once more, even as he felt Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem explode.
"DAMN YOU, REGULUS!" Voldemort raged, his magic swirling around him.
The final soul shard, the one Croaker had used to trace the others, disintegrated, and Voldemort felt the harrowing grasp of mortality clench his heart even as his already questionable sanity departed him. Voldemort coughed, falling to his knees, and felt the strain of using magic he simply no longer commanded overwhelm him.
His rage only abated when darkness overtook him.