A/N Not quite sure how I feel about this one. Maybe the end was a little rushed. Anyway, I've just realised why people love writing Astoria, she's just so wonderful. Have fun reading!
Title: Birthday lilies
Summary: Daphne is a terrible sister and she knows it. But she's remembered Astoria's birthday for once and wants to pay her a visit.
Word count: 3,194
Genres: Angst, Family
Characters: Daphne G., Astoria M.
Warnings: canon illness and hinted death
FOR HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
House:Ravenclaw
for august auction:
Day 7/ Auction 3: Angst - It's Character B's birthday and Character A visits them...on their deathbed
Daphne had never been a good sister.
Daphne stood in front of the door of Malfoy Manor. A looming, imposing door it was, all marble and strong oak wood. Black, and white. Daphne was clutching a bouquet of flowers in her hands, lilies. She had seen them in the flower shop that morning while looking for a place to apparate and bought them immediately. She had considered floo powder, but it made things so uncomfortable for people often, turning up unexpectedly like that. Besides, she didn't even know if the Malfoys even had floo connection. As she waited for someone to open the door, she remembered.
Astoria, three years younger than her, had always been so full of life and bubbly. She would wear pink and yellow and coo over kittens and sing with the birds. Astoria made her think of one of those princesses she had seen in a Muggle film, that one time she had been forced to go into London and travel the Muggle way. The little girl next to her had been watching the princess film.
Crazy invention too, the films. And the phone. Crazy what Muggles came up with so that they could make up for their lack of magic. (Though maybe they had beat wizards on that one).
But the princess was exactly like Astoria. Ridiculously pale skin, dark hair cut short with a fringe, when she was five, dressed in yellow and always being kind and helpful. She would always run up to Daphne and beg her to play with her dolls. Or tag along behind her, singing some quaint little nursery rhyme.
A sullen-faced house elf opened the door for her and she presented herself. The elf only nodded and led her through a series of dark corridors. It was eerily quiet in the house, so unlike how it had been when she'd come here last. Narcissa Malfoy was always throwing tea parties, and her mother, being a respectable pure-blood woman, though inferior in rank, was always invited. She dragged Daphne and Astoria to all these social gatherings, and the sounds that remained for Daphne were those of clinking China, soft feminine murmurs and the laughter of children. It was quite a stark contrast. Daphne wondered for a moment if something was wrong, but quickly dismissed the idea. After all, there was no reason for sadness in this house.
Astoria clearly idolised her. But Daphne always dismissed her, wishing to play with the older girls, the girls her age who would always pretend to be so serious, the way 8-year-olds always were, while all of them secretly wanted to play with the dolls. Astoria was constantly asking her sister if she could play and every time Daphne said no. She would look slightly disappointed, then bounce off, a still-hopeful look that next time it might be yes.
They turned after a long corridor and crossed a room which was brightly lit. A few comfortable looking sofas and chairs were tastefully arranged and there was a small desk in a corner near the main window with a stack of letters and a pen. And though the room was so full of light, a fine layer of dust had collected and Daphne could see specks of it floating in the sun coming from the windows.
The elf invited her to sit while he went on to announce her to the masters of the house. Daphne was at leisure to observe the room. Yes, Astoria's touch was everywhere. The desk was probably hers as there were flowers (withered) in a vase. She could even see the colouring pencils and the water colours laid out, a couple of them already framed and hung tastefully around the room.
And when Daphne went to Hogwarts, and her little sister stayed home, Daphne never wrote to her. Astoria would send her countless letters, telling her of her day, adding a flower she had found and pressed herself, or giving her a pretty drawing (and they were pretty, Astoria was quite a talented drawer) but Daphne never sent anything back, apart from the occasional hello in her monthly letter to her parents, or the reminder not to go in her room (Astoria had the terrible habit of always wanting to play with whatever her sister had).
On one of the sofas, Daphne noticed there was a set of robes, Hogwarts robes carefully laid out. Slytherin too, of course and the green and silver tie shining bright. A couple of school books were piled and a roll of parchment was spilled out, already half-covered with scratchy writing. Hopefully someone was earning house points for Slytherin with their homework.
Then, Astoria came to Hogwarts herself, and everyone was so sure she would end up a Hufflepuff, not that the family would be ashamed of her, but still. All Greengrasses had been Slytherins. It was even part of their name. Green. But Astoria protested with all her might when the family joked that she would be a Hufflepuff, insisting that she would be with her sister in Slytherin. And, well, her wish did come true.
Daphne clearly remembered the day in fourth year when her sister came trotting up to her, proud to be a part of Slytherin, wanting to sit next to her.
"Daphne! I made it to Slytherin," she squeaked like a mouse. It was the time where she still had the short hair and the fringe, carefully framed with a white headband.
"Yes, I saw," Daphne replied coldly, trying to cut the conversation diff. But clearly Astoria, as always, was in a chatty mood.
"The hat wanted to put me in Hufflepuff, but I begged it to be in Slytherin, and here I am now! Together. Isn't it simply wonderful?"
"You have a sister that could have been a Hufflepuff?" drawled Draco Malfoy, tauntingly, and Daphne blushed. Draco was her long time crush.
"Go away, Astoria," she told her.
"Can't I sit next to you?"
"No."
"But-"
"Go sit next to all the other firsties and leave me alone."
Astoria ran away, on the brink of tears. But at least she was gone.
The elf came back and led her back round the house to what might have been the servant's stairwell once upon a time, when having human servants was considered fashionable. Of course, house-elves were a lot more practical. Daphne was surprised by this choice.
"Are we not taking the main staircase?"
"No. The master doesn't like us using it," he replied gruffly.
"Oh," a pause then: "Has it been like that for a long time?"
"Ever since the war," was the even rougher reply, clearly stating that the elf wasn't going to explain more. But it made sense. Malfoy Manor had been used as Headquarters for the Dark Lord. It was only normal to want those things to be eradicated from one's life.
Oh, the war, the war. It had been horrible. Even for Daphne, as a pureblood girl. She didn't have much of a stomach for violence, but blood and torture seemed everywhere within the walls of the castle. And Astoria. Daphne had been so wrapped up in her own worry and fear that she had barely thought of her.
It had been so much worse for her, though. Aged 14, at that time where she was supposed to be young and carefree, starting to think about boys, she had been thrown into that, without a big sister to take care of her. If Daphne didn't like violence, Astoria couldn't bear it. As a girl, she would cry if someone stepped on an ant by accident.
Daphne had watched the half-bloods and Muggle-borns be tortured, at the hand of purebloods. She had been slightly disgusted by how crude it was, but not entirely against it. After all, purebloods were the best. The others sometimes tended to get in the way.
Astoria, however, had never fit in amongst the other pureblood Slytherins. Though she was naturally friendly, the others rejected her and ignored her. Clearly, she would have been happier in Hufflepuff. Especially as her sister still ignored her. Astoria formed tentative friendships with the half-bloods and Muggle-borns, people who accepted her and loved her. Watching her friends be tortured ripped her apart. But still, Daphne wasn't there.
The house seemed interminable. The house-elf and her kept winding through corridors and rooms, neverending. Or maybe it was just that Daphne wasn't paying attention. Surely the house couldn't possibly be that big? The corridors were a tacky sort of fuschia colour. Astoria loved fuschia, she knew, almost as much as yellow or pink. Daphne had hesitated with the purple-coloured roses at the flower shop.
Astoria's graduation dress was fuschia. Well, the graduation party was also her 18th birthday. Not a day that meant much to Wizards, but still. A great ball was thrown in her honour. She looked so happy surrounded by a bunch of people (the same people who had been ignoring her for years) who had come only for her. She was so eager to talk to everyone and anyone, share her joy, slowly re-becoming the Astoria from before the war. Like Snow White after taking the poison. Woken up, but still not completely okay. It was perhaps the last of Astoria's birthdays Daphne had ever attended.
Finally, the house-elf opened a door and Daphne saw that they had arrived at their destination. There was someone in the room. Not just anyone, Draco Malfoy. Daphne still felt that twinge in her heart whenever she saw him. But he looked so changed from her school days (those easy days in fourth-year).
Short blond hair, slowly whitening at the roots, a completely dishevelled look with huge purple bags under his eyes, stark contrast against the white of his skin. His eyes looked so tired, so worried. His clothes were all rumpled, black, like he hadn't changed indays. There was some stubble on his chin. The Draco Malfoy she knew had always looked impeccable.
Daphne suddenly got the same impression as a bit earlier; was something wrong?
Daphne couldn't forgive her sister for marrying Draco Malfoy. When she had recieved the inviation she had suddenly felt like ripping apart the invitation, but her own husband was next to her, so she remained passive, that same stupid smile stuck on her face. The silly schoolgirl crush had never truly faded.
"Everything alright, dear?" Christoban Carrewfeld smiled at her. Nouveau riche Pureblood from America had asked for her hand and some mindless flirting in New York one day, and her parents happily gave her away, fearing she would be an old maid at 23. Daphne had reluctantly agreed, lulled away by the promise of endless jewelry and clothes. Because, yes, she was that shallow. Besides, he was agreeable enough and didn't seem to want to force children upon her.
"Of course." Fake smile securely in place.
She didn't tell him about the invitation. This felt like the ultimate betrayal from her sister. Of course, she couldn't possibly have known about the secret feelings harboured for so long; and even if she did, Daphne was stuck in her marriage, divorce being unacceptable.
Instead, she cursed the day of her sister's graduation ball. Draco had been there, of course. Broken from the war, his father and mother in house arrest, but still anxious to please his mother so still attending social gatherings in her place. What had even possessed her to introduce him to her sister? She had thought it would make no difference, this ridiculously chirpy girl, who he had mocked so many years ago. Why would he pick the bubbly princess when there was the powerful queen? But still.
The wedding was beautiful, according to her mother, who had been so disappointed when Daphne had announced she couldn't go because of some prior engagement in the USA. Astoria had made a real catch, according to her. Malfoys, the best of the best, ready to ignore both parties' faults. At least Daphne had the consolation of knowing Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were against the match, blaming Astoria of being too Muggle-tolerant. Something they never would have had with Daphne.
"Daphne." It was just a statement, a sort of greeting. Nothing more.
"Good morning, Draco."
"You're here to see her." No comment on how she hadn't been to see Astoria in years. Not written by her either, actually. Apart from the fact Astoria lived at Malfoy Manor, Daphne truly didn't know anything about her sister. Hopefully she'd be able to change that.
"Yes. I brought flowers."
"She'll like that."
Suddenly, Daphne noticed they weren't alone in the room. There was a small boy, a small blond boy huddled in a chair in a corner. Scorpius. She wanted to go greet him, say hi, but Draco stopped her from moving towards him. He was, what, 13, 14 now? Probably better. He was probably a moody teenager now, better not to bother him. Who knew, maybe he was like all those Muggle teenagers she saw everywhere, huddled over a phone doing who-knows what. Maybe Astoria had allowed it. She had always found the Muggle contraptions so fun and exciting.
The news of Scorpius' birth shouldn't have surprised her, it was only normal for Draco and her sister to wish to start a family, and yet… That Astoria asked her to be godmother, though, that should have been a surprise, and it was. Her little sister had always idolised her, but they barely spoke anymore. Astoria had sent her countless letters in the beginning, with her beautiful drawings, which Daphne had barely taken the time to read, and even less to reply, until the letters slowed down until stopping entirely.
The child was adorable, it truly was. His father's hair and nose but her sister's soft features that just seemed to express all the love in the world. It was like Snow White all over again, but only slightly more masculine. Astoria was radiant in the picture, fondly rocking her child and smiling at it, but looking so exhausted.
Daphne hadn't even replied.
"She's here." Draco led her through a door.
"Thank you." He closed the door behind them, and Daphne finally turned her head to look at her sister. "Happy Birthday!" She said upbeatdely, until she saw Astoria.
Her sister was lying on a bed, lying, her eyes closed. Her skin was so, so white. Even whiter than the sheets in which she was lying, her dark hair spread around her, her lips standing out red on her face. Her brow looked slightly sweaty. Now, this, this was truly Snow White in her coffin.
"Daphne?" The voice was barely more than a whisper. "Daphne?"
"Astoria." Oh Lord, what was wrong with her sister. She rushed over to the chair next to the bedside.
The woman gave a small laugh as her eyes fluttered open. "Oh, I must be having hallucinations again, for a moment it seemed like you were here Daphne."
"No, no!" Daphne cried. Hallucinations? What was this? "I'm here!"
Astoria's eyes widened a little bit more, and a smile erupted on her face, cracking the lips so that a little blood trickled out. "Daphne! It's really you!"
"Astoria, what's wrong?"
"And you brought flowers!" Her sister feebly lifted her hand. "Lilies, how fitting." She coughed and she wiped a little blood away.
"Astoria, are you okay?" The question was so underwhelming. Of course, she wasn't. It hit Daphne like a brick. The eerily silent house, Draco looking so horrible, and Scorpius huddled in a corner. All that because Astoria was so obviously ill.
"Not really, no."
"Are you ill? What've you got? When are you getting better?"
"Oh, I'm not getting better. I'm pretty sure I'm dying actually. Dying on my birthday. That would certainly close the circle."
Dying? Dying! Her sister was dying? Daphne couldn't comprehend what her sister was telling her. And how could she possibly be so calm when announcing this to her. She was looking at the flowers fondly.
"I love flowers."
"I know. That's why I brought them."
"For my birthday. Oh, that's so sweet of you!"
"Astoria, no, no it isn't. I've never given you an actual birthday present before. You can't call me sweet."
"No, I can. You thought of it this time. It'll be the last time, but the thought counts." More coughing, more blood.
"But, what's wrong with you, Astoria? Can't they make it better?" Astoria dying. It was impossible. Her sister was only 35, 36 today actually, still so young, so fresh.
"No they can't. It's a blood malediction."
"A blood malediction! Do mother and father know?"
"Yes, they helped me research it, trying to find a cure, but there's nothing."
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Oh, I thought you might be too busy."
"Too busy. Too busy? Too busy to learn that my little sister is dying?"
"Oh don't worry, the blood malediction is only a freak thing, curses every second born girl every five generations, which is quite ridiculous, because our family is only five generations old, magically speaking. You should be perfectly fine."
"Astoria, I don't care about me, what about you?"
Astoria gave a small laugh, but it barely lit up her face, not like it did when they were younger. The smile barely reached her eyes. "Oh yes, you've always cared so much about me." There wasn't a trace of sarcasm in her voice.
"No, Astoria, you know that's not true. I've always been such a terrible sister."
"Only slightly, you could have been so, so much worse. I thought, no, think, you are a fabulous example to follow."
"No, I was a terrible example to follow. I was always so mean, so cruel, so disdainful."
"Powerful, confident, following the rules."
"I should have been following you, truthfully. So full of life, cheerful, bubbly."
"Naive, childish and silly. Come on, Daphne, don't glorify me because I'm dying."
"Astoria, how can you say that so calmly."
"Because I've come to accept it. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
"Please, stop being sorry. I was the worst sister ever. I should be asking for your forgiveness."
Astoria smiled, and this time, though painful, it seemed genuine. Oh that silly thing, of course I'll give it to you."
Daphne grabbed hold of her hand and held it for a moment. How could she have been so awful to her sister all these years? It truly did seem a bit easy now, just to say sorry as she was dying, but realisation had come crashing down upon her. All those years she could have spent with her adoring younger sister now lost and never to be regained.
Suddenly, Astoria began to cough, and cough, and cough, seemingly unable to stop. Each expulsion of air wracked her whole body. Draco burst into the room and a Healer seemed to appear out of nowhere. Daphne was ushered out of the room, without being able to say a word more to her sister, the lilies were still lying on the bed next to her. At least, she had remembered Astoria's birthday once.
Daphne truly was terrible sister.
