Disclaimer: All characters, proper names, and the world belong to J.K. Rowling

VII. After Dark

When the blonde stepped off the stage with her group, there was a brief moment of silence, as if the entire world had held its breath. The audience, still dazed by the magic of the performance, stared at the spot where the dancers had just been. The effect of the beautiful Veela, as Daphne heard from all sides, was stunning. Her presence still lingered in the air, like the scent of flowers that remains long after the florist has left. The stadium, after a brief pause, finally came back to life – the buzz of conversations and shouts returned like a wave washing over the shore after the tide recedes.

Daphne, though reluctantly, had to admit that the performance was something spectacular. Walking through the stands before meeting Potter and his friends, she overheard snippets of enthusiastic conversations about the blonde. Every third man, with eyes full of admiration, declared that he wanted to marry her or at least spend a moment with her. And every third woman sighed at how unfair life was. Daphne, though she knew perfectly well that a beautiful girl could knock even the greatest wizard off his feet, still couldn't believe the primitiveness of humans. In her eyes, that girl had nothing special besides her beauty. However, after the performance ended, she had to reluctantly admit that she was probably wrong. This Veela, or rather half-Veela or even quarter-Veela, as Daphne managed to deduce, had more to offer than just beauty. Even Daphne, despite her cold demeanor and ability to critically analyze, could give credit where it was due. Of course, she did it in her own way.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts, but it was in vain. Astoria's unfiltered tongue soon pulled her out of her reverie.

"I saw how you were looking at that blonde. Even you couldn't take your eyes off her," her younger sister remarked sarcastically, with a smile that always irritated Daphne.

Daphne narrowed her eyes, looking at Astoria as if her presence was just another obstacle in the complex labyrinth of her thoughts. Her expression revealed that she would have preferred to be elsewhere at that moment.

"Just because I paid attention to her doesn't mean I'm fascinated by her," she replied coolly, trying to keep her emotions under control.

Astoria, as usual, unfazed by her sister's coldness, smiled broadly, as if she had discovered a secret she was eager to share. "Of course, sister. You were watching her just to judge her, right? Just like always."

Daphne took a short breath, trying to hide her growing irritation. "Not everyone is as easily charmed as you, Astoria," she responded, fixing her gaze on a point behind her sister's head, as if searching for something more worthy of her attention.

Astoria chuckled, ignoring the coldness in Daphne's voice. "But even you aren't completely immune to the Veela's charm. I wonder what you'd do if she turned her attention to you."

Before Daphne could respond, Marry, their mother, who had been observing both daughters with a gentle yet inscrutable expression, spoke up.

"Daphne, I've noticed that your ambitions know no bounds lately. You know that power isn't just control over others, but over yourself as well," she said calmly, though with a tone that had always been a mystery to Daphne.

Daphne looked up, trying to read her mother's thoughts. "Mother, self-control is the foundation of everything I do. I don't allow myself any weaknesses," she replied confidently.

Marry smiled gently, though a shadow of something more appeared in her eyes. "That's good. But remember, true strength lies in recognizing when control can become an illusion."

Daphne pondered her mother's words for a moment, trying to grasp the hidden lesson. "I'll never let an illusion obscure reality for me. I learned that from you," she finally said.

Marry nodded slightly. "I know that's true. But always stay vigilant, Daphne. Even the sharpest minds can fall victim to their own beliefs."

Daphne didn't know how to respond. She nodded slightly and turned her gaze back to the stadium.

At that moment, two things happened that even the centaurs probably wouldn't have been able to predict.

Out of the corner of her eye, Daphne noticed her sister's energetic movements – Astoria was moving in a way that immediately struck Daphne as strange and unsettling. Instead of the usual irritation that Astoria's minor lapses usually sparked, Daphne soon felt her heart race, and her cool calculation gave way to rising shock. When Daphne turned her gaze to Astoria, something undefined gripped her, something primal that told her she was about to witness something terrifying.

Astoria sat in her seat, her face as pale as marble, and her hair, which had recently shimmered with golden highlights, was now disheveled and unkempt, as if life had begun to drain from it. Blood was trickling from her sister's nose, dark and sticky, flowing down her porcelain skin like the blackest of puddles, seeping deep into the fabric of her skirt, creating bloody, almost surreal patterns. The sight was like a nightmare suddenly brought to life before Daphne's eyes, shattering her apparent self-assurance.

In the dark, flickering light of the stadium, Astoria's blood seemed to pulse with its own rhythm, as if it were a living entity, some malevolent being that had found refuge in her sister's body. Daphne, usually unshakable and cold, felt her mind start to scream in silence, and the soul she had always controlled with iron discipline now trembled under the weight of this brutal sight. The inner cold she had so carefully cultivated was breaking into pieces, and in its place, panic was growing – a feeling she had always wanted to avoid.

"Astoria, what happened?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice, which carried a tone much more personal and caring than she would have liked. It was a tone that rarely betrayed any sign of emotion. Daphne felt her stomach knot up, and fear began to creep into her thoughts like a poisonous vine, slowly entwining everything she had under control.

Astoria, shaking with pain and confusion, now looked like a shadow of her former self. Her eyes, shining with tears and blood, were wide open, as if they were seeing something invisible to others – some terrifying image that haunted her from the depths of her own mind. The hands that tried to stop the bleeding were helpless – the blood soaked through the fabric of the handkerchief, creating grotesque, dark stains on her skirt, like stains on a damaged soul. At that moment, Daphne realized that her sister was going through something that went beyond ordinary pain – it was suffering of a deeper, more primal nature.

Daphne felt cold, dark emotions begin to seep into her being. The image of Astoria in her bloody desperation reminded her of the brutal visions that haunted her in her darkest nightmares. In her imagination, Astoria's blood became like a shadow stretching into infinity, engulfing everything Daphne had ever known, erasing her world in a red, bloody mist. In that moment, with fear and inner dread, Daphne felt powerless – a feeling she had avoided her entire life. Now, in the face of her sister's suffering, her cold, calculated mask was beginning to crack, revealing a fragility she had never wanted to admit.

She felt the darkness slowly closing in around her, as if each drop of her sister's blood was draining a part of her own soul, leaving her naked, exposed to this terrifying reality. She was aware that now, in this dark moment, her strength and control over her own life were merely an illusion, and the true reality was revealed in the form of suffering over which she had no control. It was at this very moment that Daphne, for the first time in her life, felt that true evil didn't lie in the shadows of the mind, but in helplessness.

At this moment, Daphne felt her entire life, so far built on a foundation of cold calculation and relentless control, begin to crumble under the weight of emotions she had never known before. The image of her suffering sister seemed to burn itself into her mind, and the feeling of helplessness that now overwhelmed her was something almost foreign to her, but no less terrifying. Every drop of blood that flowed from Astoria's body was like a symbol of the loss of everything Daphne had once considered certain.

Daphne, usually unfazed and detached from the world of emotions, now felt something inside her crack, as if the cold shell she had built around herself over the years could no longer withstand the pressure of this nightmare. The feeling was like poison, slowly spreading through her, contaminating every thought and conviction she had so carefully nurtured. Faced with this terrifying reality, one she couldn't control, Daphne realized just how fragile her pillars of strength had been.

Her soul, which she had always perceived as an oasis of cold calm and iron discipline, now seemed on the brink of collapse. Every second she was forced to watch Astoria's suffering felt like another blow to her self-image of strength. Daphne, who so often prided herself on being above others, now felt as if the world was mocking her, revealing her true face – one full of fears and uncertainties that she had so far successfully concealed. At that moment, Daphne began to realize that her desire for strength and control, which had driven her throughout her life, was not enough. She needed something more, something that would allow her to survive such moments – something that could immunize her against the pain and suffering now piercing her soul. This realization, though painful, was like a spark that reignited her lust for power and domination. She knew she could not afford to experience such weakness again.

With newfound determination, Daphne resolved that she would never again allow herself to feel such helplessness. What she was now experiencing would become a lesson that would drive her to further improve herself, to become someone who not only controlled others but who could also master her own fears and weaknesses, which she had so far hidden even from herself. Her ambitions, which until now had been driven by a desire to meet her father's expectations, now took on a new, darker dimension – the desire never again to experience this terrifying feeling of helplessness.

Daphne felt her heart, which had been beating in a panicked rhythm, start to calm down, though the cold within her didn't dissipate. Instead, that cold began to reform, becoming a part of her – a harder, more unyielding part that would serve as her shield against the world. Now she knew that to achieve true strength, she needed not only to control others but also to conquer her own weaknesses, which until now, she had hidden even from herself. Daphne decided that she would not only be the daughter of Jack Greengrass but also his heir, worthy of his power and reputation.

In that moment, in the stadium illuminated by the spotlight's glow, Daphne understood that it wasn't physical strength or even magical power that was the key to dominance – it was the ability to endure, to maintain control in the darkest moments, that was the true measure of power. Daphne Greengrass, with a soul marked by a newly discovered purpose, knew that she would never again allow herself a moment of weakness. She was ready to sacrifice everything to become someone even the most dreadful nightmares could not break. In that moment, she resolved that every challenge, every pain she encountered would be just another step towards achieving absolute perfection – and this time, she would not disappoint herself, her parents, or her sister.

At that moment, total chaos erupted – screams, panic, and confusion spread like wildfire, engulfing everyone around. It wasn't just the terrifying sight of a bleeding girl lying on the cold ground, writhing in convulsions of pain, that made people lose their senses. All of this amplified the sense of impending disaster, which was soon to arrive.

Above the starry sky, a green mark appeared, capturing everyone's attention – a human skull with a snake emerging from it, gleaming in the darkness like a sinister omen. Daphne knew this symbol all too well – from the dark tales her mother had told her in childhood. People, like cattle, began to flee in every possible direction. It was hard to say which was the right escape route. The crowd trampled each other, screaming, drawing wands, and fighting an invisible enemy.

Every now and then, someone bumped into Daphne, but the girl saw only her sister, as the girl lost consciousness and her body thrashed in spasms.

Beside Daphne, Marry knelt over the body of her younger daughter. Their elegant dresses were stained with blood, which gave their previously immaculate appearance a tragic character. Their faces, usually radiant with beauty and dignity, were now overshadowed by the horror of the situation.

Marry began to silently cast spells, her wand slowly moving towards the body of the younger daughter. Her face was stern, focused, and each movement of the wand carried with it the promise of magic that could restore order in this chaos. Thanks to her precise actions, Astoria's body stopped moving, and her breathing, though still shallow, calmed slightly. However, the bleeding did not stop, continuing to flow from the wound like an unbroken, dark stream.

At that moment, Jack appeared with a wand in hand, ready to cast even the most unforgivable curse on the first person who stood in his way. His entrance, though seemingly calm, brought with it a wave of tension. His gaze moved slowly – first to the illuminated sky, where the Dark Mark still glowed, then to Daphne, and finally, it settled on Marry and Astoria. His face was stony, unflinching, but Daphne noticed something more in his eyes – a shadow of shock that he tried to hide. Without a word, he pushed his wife away from their daughter's body and began casting spells himself. His wand danced in the air with precision, and no emotion showed on his face, as if what was happening around him had no effect on him.

After a moment, Jack turned to Marry, his voice icy but firm "Marry, take Astoria home, have the house-elves inform Snape. Your only task is to stop the bleeding until we return." Daphne, though accustomed to her father's cold tone, noticed something new – in his eyes flashed grey shadow of internal struggle, though his tone betrayed not a hint of emotion. It was a sign of the horrible shock that was suffocating inside him, unable to surface.

Daphne began to wonder how much her father must have gone through to maintain such impeccable calm, even in the face of his bleeding daughter. His composure inspired both admiration and fear in her – fear of what she would have to go through to meet his standards. Another surprise for her was that her father used the phrase "we," which suggested that Daphne would not be returning home anytime soon. Whatever her father had planned, he certainly intended to involve her in it.

"Kira!" – ordered Jack, and at the same moment, their house-elf appeared, bowing low, almost touching the ground with her forehead. "Yes, sir?" – she answered, looking at him with full devotion. When she saw Astoria lying on the ground, her eyes immediately filled with tears, turning red.

"Miss Astoria!" – Kira cried out, her voice full of despair, and the tiny legs of the house-elf quickly moved towards the girl lying on the ground.

"Take Marry and Astoria home, the rest of the instructions will come from Marry," ordered Jack, not even turning his head from his youngest daughter's body. Kira nodded, taking both women by the hand and disappearing as quickly as she had appeared.

Jack rose from his knees, running his hand through his carefully styled hair, restoring its impeccable order. He looked at Daphne, resuming his cool, sophisticated demeanor. Moments later, his gaze sharpened, and an expression appeared on his face that Daphne knew all too well – it was an expression full of calculation and determination. He opened his mouth to speak, and his words were about to resonate like a verdict.