"Please... no more," Hermione Granger croaked in a weak, defeated voice.
"There. Much better," Daphne responded with satisfaction.
She was glad the mudblood had finally decided to end the ridiculous charade. Had she not, Daphne might have had to get nasty. "What were you thinking, anyway?" the blonde asked, clicking her tongue. "Pretending to be broken to avoid further punishment?" Granger didn't respond, but Daphne could see the truth in her eyes – it was exactly what the girl had been hoping for.
"The people I'm planning for you to meet, they don't care whether you're broken or not," Daphne informed her. It was the truth, she thought. Certainly, Dolores wouldn't have been stopped by Granger being unresponsive, and Daphne was pretty sure the others wouldn't be either.
"No... I can't go through it again! Please!" Granger cried out upon realizing there was more punishment to come. She even started rocking in her spot on the floor, her desperation evident in every movement.
"I decide what you can – or cannot – go through!" Daphne immediately and harshly reminded her, causing the girl to slump back, utterly dejected. While Daphne found Granger's desperate pleas mildly entertaining, she was also unwilling to tolerate even the slightest bit of defiance from the inferior cretin. She wanted to establish that early in their conversation before the mudblood managed to say something that would land her in even worse trouble. Daphne shrugged and added, "Besides, I thought it would be educational for you to see the results of your actions," she said, referring to the memory dear Dolores had placed in Granger's mind.
"I- I didn't do it!" Granger stuttered, anguish filling her voice. "I would never!"
"No, you wouldn't... not intentionally, anyway," Daphne admitted, knowing even Granger wasn't twisted enough to have done what she did to Dolores Umbridge on purpose. "Once again, it was your mudblood ignorance and stupidity that led you to do this," she accused before leaning closer and adding, "The memory she showed you was just the tiniest bit of the suffering and humiliation she's been enduring for days," Daphne informed her and watched as the mudblood looked at her with terror.
"I didn't know..."
Daphne frowned at that. "No? Did you know it took Dolores over a year to recover from her ordeal? Or that she'll never be able to have children after this?" she practically hissed the last part, causing the filthy girl to recoil in fear. Not that Dolores had ever planned to have children, but to have that ability permanently stolen in such a violent and dehumanizing assault... even Harry agreed she didn't deserve that.
Granger clutched her head. "Please... I don't want it. Just make it stop. Please! Make it stop!" she begged, and Daphne could see in her eyes that their conversation was causing her to relive the implanted memory once more, her rocking on the floor becoming faster and more erratic. For a moment, Daphne's thoughts wildly fluctuated between letting the mudblood wallow in her rightful misery and wanting to hug the poor crying girl and make it all better.
Finally, with considerable self-restraint, she leaned toward the second option. "I could make it stop, Granger," she mentioned, causing the mudblood to meet her eyes with such a beaten yet hopeful expression it made Daphne shiver – her look was exactly like David's when they first met. She swallowed her nervousness and continued, "What Dolores put inside your head – I could easily take it out again," Daphne explained. "All you need to do is ask for my help... and I'll consider helping you, mudblood."
Daphne watched as the girl jumped at the offer, taking a deep breath, no doubt preparing to irritate her with her annoying voice. Daphne raised her hand warningly to stop her. "No. Not like that," she hissed angrily. While her heart was telling her to just help the girl, she was also aware Hermione Granger wasn't in any way like David Cole, despite their similarly tragic circumstances.
All David had been guilty of was being a mudblood, and he had suffered for it a thousand times over. Meanwhile, Granger's crimes were innumerable and beyond the pale, and Daphne still felt like she hadn't paid enough for them.
"You want my help? You'll ask for it properly – like a lowly mudblood speaking to a pureblood lady," Daphne ordered without mercy. Part of her didn't think Granger would actually do it, doubting that even the traumatic memory she now carried would cause her to throw away that damn pride of hers. Daphne could still see it etched on the girl's face – the arrogant belief that she was something more than she was. The mudblood knew accepting her rightful place, even if only for a moment, was the only way to feel better again, the two emotions clashing inside her, fighting for dominance.
Then the desire to feel better seemingly won as Granger threw herself at Daphne's feet so fast that an outside observer might have thought she was attacking her. Hermione Granger cried in anguish, even as she kissed the tip of Daphne's shoe in submission. She then begged her lady to help her. Finally, the mudblood placed her forehead against the floor, more out of sheer emotional exhaustion, trembling and softly crying as she awaited Daphne's decision.
Daphne didn't react for a while, caught completely by surprise. Both by Granger actually lowering herself to do this and realizing how little joy seeing her like this brought her. At some point, Daphne had dreamed about Granger realizing the truth and submitting to her as her rightful superior. But the sad truth was Granger's submission had been forced entirely by circumstances rather than devotion. Had the mudblood not wanted her help so desperately, she wouldn't have debased herself like this, and Daphne knew it.
Daphne sighed in frustration. "Get back on your knees and look at me," she commanded after a moment of introspection, watching as Granger pulled herself back to her knees with some difficulty. She rocked back and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt before looking up and finally noticing the vial in Daphne's hand. Daphne had pulled it out of her pocket while the mudblood had been groveling before her.
"Drink... it'll help," Daphne instructed, handing the vial over to Granger.
The girl grasped it with both hands, one holding the bottle and the other steadying her trembling hand. Granger looked at the vial suspiciously, no doubt wondering what poison Daphne might be trying to use to kill her. Also, how it worked, how long it took to prepare, and how many stirs and in what direction one was supposed to use while making it – it's just who Granger was. Seeing the suspicion in her eyes, Daphne smiled in amusement but didn't comment. Eventually, Granger seemed to conclude that if Daphne had wanted to poison her, she wouldn't have required her cooperation. And so Granger slowly uncorked the vial and downed its entire contents.
At first, nothing happened.
Then the mudblood cried out, clutching her head in response to the sudden stab of pain. Daphne had never experienced it herself but understood it felt like a shard of ice being driven into one's skull. However, it was over almost as quickly as it started, leaving Granger looking around in confusion, but also far lighter in mood.
"The memory Dolores gave you is now gone," Daphne explained.
In fact, the potion Granger had drunk was specifically made as a direct antidote to the one Dolores had used – the one Daphne had also provided her with. While Dolores was useful as a vassal, Daphne certainly didn't trust the despicable woman and made sure to cover all her bases.
"The memory is gone, but what it was – and how it made you feel – that must remain," Daphne decided sternly before pursing her lips. "A lesson for you, mudblood. A reminder your actions have consequences."
"T-thank you," the kneeling girl stammered in gratitude, despite Daphne's final patronizing words and tone. The girl's entire demeanor changed after drinking the potion, her crippling depression gone and the old Hermione Granger rushing forth from the lake of despair she had been drowning in. It was both inspirational and worrying sight.
Daphne nodded in acknowledgment. "I helped you, Granger. Because you asked nicely... and because no woman deserves to have that in her head," she said with genuine disgust before turning serious. "However, we still need to talk about the fact that you handed a fellow witch to be gang-raped by a herd of centaurs!" Daphne accused.
"But I didn't know!" Granger immediately cried in defense. "I had no idea they would do something so awful!"
"Again," Daphne said with a sigh. "Again, your mudblood ignorance is your excuse," she snapped in displeasure before shaking her head. "To think you ever envisioned yourself as a leader of our world when you know so little about it…"
Granger shot her an annoyed look but said nothing more, leaving Daphne to wonder whether the mudblood had already come to terms with the fact she wouldn't be becoming Minister for Magic, or whether she still clung to that delusion. Feeling tired of standing, Daphne walked over to the only piece of furniture in the cell, the bed, eyeing it with distaste. It wasn't dirty, but the knowledge Granger had been sleeping on it was enough to disgust her. She proceeded to conjure a thick cloth and covered part of the bed with it. Only then did she sit down. Her eyes turned to the mudblood, still kneeling on the hard concrete floor, looking at her with confusion.
Daphne could tell the mudblood's knees were starting to hurt from the way she kept shifting her weight from one side to the other periodically. She briefly entertained the thought of ordering her to remain where she was, as it was an appropriate position for an inferior creature like Hermione Granger. Instead, she gestured at the bed. "Come, sit with me," Daphne offered.
Caught off guard by the gesture, the mudblood froze for a moment instead of following her instructions. Fortunately, seeing Daphne's eyes narrow dangerously was enough to get her moving again as she scrambled to obey, climbing onto the bed. She sat on the opposite side of it though, as far away from Daphne as possible. The blonde didn't begrudge her for that – Granger's proximity made her skin crawl anyway.
"Do you know the origin of the centaurs?" Daphne asked, watching as the girl reluctantly shook her head after a moment of hesitation. It was patently obvious how much Granger hated having to admit she didn't know something, especially in present company. Fortunately, she also seemed to be able to hear the metaphorical crackling of the very thin ice she was standing on, and wouldn't dare to lie to Daphne either.
Back when the girl had worked as a servant around the manor, Daphne had made her devour well over a hundred books, but it seemed centaur history hadn't made the list. Luckily, Sue Li had reported to Daphne all the developments regarding the mudblood's education, including everything she had read. Daphne was doing her best to recall that list now.
"What is Rookbane's first law of human-animal hybridization, then?" she asked, knowing for certain that book had been included. Granger blinked in surprise at the question but then answered almost immediately.
"A human-animal hybrid can only gestate inside a human," she recited perfectly, word for word, making Daphne wonder if she had an eidetic memory or was simply such a diligent bookworm. Of course, it seemed the mudblood had merely memorized the words and hadn't given much thought to their implications – something she was clearly doing in this very moment, given the way her eyes comically widened in shock.
"You don't mean—"
"That they bred witches with horses to create the first centaurs?" Daphne finished for her, nodding solemnly. "I'm afraid so." She then began to tell the girl the rest of the story.
It was said an ancient dark lord wished to have an unbeatable cavalry force at his disposal and came to the horrifying conclusion the best way to achieve that was to literally fuse humans and horses into a single being, cross-breeding them.
"That's disgusting!" Granger spat, looking absolutely horrified by the thought.
Daphne simply nodded in agreement. She preferred to think the ancient dark lord had at least utilized artificial insemination, but feared it was wishful thinking at best. In fact, given the nature of the centaurs, the most disturbing scenario seemed the most likely. "The curse of human-animal hybrids is that they instinctively repeat the circumstances that led to their creation, over and over in each generation."
"So that's it?" Granger asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "They're a species of rapists because that's how they were created?"
"Simply put, but essentially correct," Daphne confirmed, watching as Granger took a deep breath before unleashing the inevitable barrage of questions, not even caring that it was Daphne Greengrass she was talking to.
Why let centaurs live near a school full of children? Why let a centaur teach at Hogwarts? And most importantly, why wasn't she told about any of this?!
While Granger's questions were all valid and to the point, it was very rude of her to hurl them at people like that. At any people, really, but especially at her superiors.
"Enough!" Daphne finally hissed, and the mudblood abruptly shut her mouth, her teeth clicking audibly. She followed it by looking at Daphne with the most hurt expression, the biggest Daphne had seen on the girl's face so far. It would seem one could imprison Hermione Granger and torture her with implanted memories. But being prohibited from asking questions – that's what the girl found truly unbearable. Amused, Daphne made a mental note of it for future reference.
"The herd living at Hogwarts was founded by a centaur named Chiron," Daphne told her next, and the mudblood listened with rapt attention, eager to finally get answers to at least some of her burning questions.
Daphne then told her about Chiron's life – how he had been born a mutant among his kind, with greater emotional and magical control. Chiron subsequently dedicated his entire life to finding ways to overcome the inherently violent nature of his people. In the end, he created the complex astrology-focused pacifist philosophy they now rigorously followed. "Chiron also personally rescued and raised several famous mudbloods, earning the gratitude and trust of my ancestors," Daphne continued. "Because of that, and his non-violent nature, Chiron and his followers were spared the purges."
"Purges?" the mudblood peeped uncertainly, fearing the answer.
"All the other centaurs were slaughtered," Daphne said, confirming Granger's worst expectations.
The great centaur purge, they called it – notable as possibly the only recorded military cooperation between magicals, goblins, and muggles. Even though the dark lord who had created the centaurs had long been defeated, his rampaging horse army remained, threatening everyone.
"After the purges, there was still much hostility toward centaurs. Despite Chiron's best efforts, they weren't truly welcome anywhere. Finally, the Wild Hunt set aside land for them in what is now the Forbidden Forest, near one of the training camps they had set up for mudbloods," she revealed.
"Hogwarts!" Granger gasped.
"Not yet," Daphne said, smiling. "That came centuries later."
And when it did, the Hogwarts founders honored the arrangement the centaurs had with the Hunt – the centaurs would have a permanent, eternal sanctuary in the Forbidden Forest. In exchange, they would take care of the magical creatures living there and provide potion ingredients to the school. They also signed a very powerful magical treaty that bound them and their entire bloodline to be unable to harm the children or teachers of Hogwarts. Finally, they were also prohibited from leaving the forest without the headmaster's permission.
Granger shook her head, her mind absorbing all the new information like a sponge. "Then why did they assault Umbridge?" she asked. "And why threaten Harry and me?"
"They – they probably wanted to scare you two," Daphne answered after a moment of thought. "There's no way they could have actually hurt you. They would've literally dropped dead the moment they tried to harm a student," Daphne assured her. "As for Umbridge..." she continued, trailing off and frowning. "Well, the woman is simply a fool of the worst kind. Had she declared herself as the headmistress of Hogwarts, they would have been forced to let you all go," Daphne told her unhappily.
"But no, the idiot instead named herself an employee of the Ministry," she continued, shaking her head sadly. There was power in words, and the moment Dolores spoke them to the centaurs, she was doomed. "She threatened them in their own territory, nullifying the magical protections she would have otherwise possessed. The disrespect she showed them also enraged them to a point where they could no longer suppress their violent instincts," she finished, feeling almost ashamed of her vassal. The truth was that Dolores Umbridge was absolutely useless anywhere outside the Ministry. Sending her to Hogwarts had been the utmost folly.
"I didn't know..." Granger said, swallowing nervously, clearly overwhelmed by what she had learned. She also looked quite annoyed and betrayed. "Why isn't this taught?!" she complained.
"It's taught at NEWT level in Care of Magical Creatures," Daphne corrected her, recalling that Granger had not chosen the subject.
"Why not sooner?" Granger questioned, still annoyed.
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "You think that's an appropriate topic for children?"
Granger reluctantly nodded, but then looked at Daphne suspiciously. "You knew about this before then, didn't you?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
Daphne giggled a little at that. "My parents read me plenty of fairy tales about evil centaurs. Any pureblood would have warned you about them if you'd actually bothered to listen to us," she said with a frown. "Instead, your mudblood ignorance led you to hurt another person... if only that was the only time," she finished wistfully.
"W-what are you talking about? Who else did I hurt?" the brunette asked, shaking her head vehemently in denial. Daphne studied her for a moment, trying to discern whether she was joking. But it seemed that in her ignorance, Granger really thought herself innocent, unable to see what her actions had wrought.
"Marietta Edgecombe," Daphne muttered loudly, feeling it needed no further explanation.
As expected, the mudblood immediately turned defensive. "She betrayed—"
"Yes, yes. She reported your illegal study group, I know," Daphne interrupted dismissively. "Do you even hear yourself, mudblood? A girl tattles on you at school, and in response, you mutilate her face," she said, pinning the mudblood with a merciless gaze. "Do you seriously think she deserved that?" Daphne snapped.
"Y-YES!" the mudblood cried out in response, making Daphne stare at her with an open mouth. It was an emotional outburst rather than a measured answer. Daphne could even tell the girl immediately regretted it. Unfortunately, the damage was already done.
"Give... me... your... arm," Daphne commanded in a slow, murderously cold voice, reaching out with her left hand while raising her wand in her right. Instead of obeying, Granger shrank back in fear, mumbling something barely coherent. All Daphne could pick up was a desperate 'No.'
"Did you seriously just say no to me?!" Daphne yelled, incredulous that the mudblood could be so stupid. "Give me your fucking arm... NOW!" she ordered, crying out the last word so loudly it made the walls of the small cell vibrate.
The tense moment carried on for what seemed like an eternity but was likely just a second before the mudblood gave up and extended her arm, allowing Daphne to grasp her hand. Granger seemed on the verge of fainting from fear as Daphne rolled up the sleeve of her shirt, exposing her forearm. She examined the pristine white skin for a moment before tapping her wand against it, muttering a spell.
As far as Daphne knew, the spell should be completely painless. Nevertheless, the sight of bloody letters appearing on her skin seemed to break something inside Granger. She started sobbing uncontrollably, and her arm shook, but she didn't pull away, her hand trembling in Daphne's.
"Do you know what word I'm writing?" Daphne asked quietly, watching as Granger's eyes flicked between hers and the angry red 'M' that appeared to have been cut into her skin. Granger nodded, knowing exactly what the word was going to be. She closed her eyes, trying and failing to contain her tears, but still didn't pull her arm from Daphne's grasp. It was clear she desperately wanted to, but wouldn't dare.
"And do you deserve this?" Daphne asked again, her voice even more insistent. "Do you deserve what I'm doing to you?" she demanded, watching as Granger thought about it, frantically trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't worsen her situation. Finally, she swallowed and decided to go with honesty, shaking her head no. Daphne smirked before placing the tip of her wand against Granger's skin again. But instead of carrying on with the writing and marking Granger with a letter 'U' this time, she vanished what had already been written, leaving the girl's skin pristine once more.
"Of course you don't deserve it," she said, finally releasing Granger's hand. The mudblood immediately yanked her arm back and traced her forearm with her fingers to verify the scar was truly gone. When she found it was, the relief practically radiated from her. "Marietta didn't deserve it either." Daphne finished, and the mudblood finally met her gaze. "Look what the idea of having something written on your arm did to you… and you wrote it on her face!"
There was a lot of hurt in Granger's eyes, but Daphne could also see she had succeeded in getting her point across. There was doubt there now – a sudden uncertainty that perhaps mutilating Marietta hadn't been the right thing to do. Daphne felt like crying out in triumph, especially considering how unbelievably stubborn the mudblood was.
Granted, Harry had originally thought Marietta's punishment was just, but he quickly changed his mind after Daphne discussed it with him, explaining what the poor girl had endured since then. Aside from Marietta's mutilation itself, because it occurred as a result of breaking the magical contract the mudblood had tricked her into signing, her injuries were deemed self-inflicted under the terms of her betrothal contract. The Edgecombe family had nearly been ruined by the resulting fines – all because of Hermione Granger. The girl didn't know it but Dumbledore's intervention had been the only thing that kept her out of Azkaban that year.
Feeling too wound up to continue the conversation, Daphne stood up and walked toward the door. Her original purpose for coming here was to give Granger the potion and to discuss the girl's future with her. She had succeeded in the former, but before she could address the latter, the mudblood had once again managed to anger her. She decided to postpone their remaining conversation, giving both of them time to cool off. Daphne was about to bang on the door with her fist when she heard the mudblood call out to her weakly from behind.
"D-Daphne..."
Daphne turned and saw Granger looking at her, still absentmindedly massaging her forearm but otherwise focusing on her. "I'm – I'm sorry," the brunette barely whispered, and yet Daphne heard her with perfect clarity. Perhaps it was the sheer novelty of hearing such humble words and tone from a vile, insufferable person like Hermione Granger. To say Daphne was surprised by the honesty in the girl's voice would be an understatement.
"You're sorry? Sorry for what?" Daphne asked in confusion. She assumed Granger was referring to the things they had just discussed about Marietta, but as it turned out, the girl had something entirely different in mind.
"When I tried to escape," she muttered. "What I said, what I did... especially to Astoria," she stammered and then fell silent for a moment. "I've been replaying it in my head over and over," she admitted after a while, shaking her head. "I honestly don't understand why I did some of those things. It's like – it's like I'm watching someone else," she finished regretfully.
Daphne stared at her for a moment, her earlier anger slowly dissipating. "I believe you," she said eventually, and it was the mudblood's turn to look surprised. "It started the moment you stole Harry's wand, didn't it?" she asked knowingly. Granger's eyes widened, and she slowly nodded. Daphne shook her head.
"You poor thing," she said with genuine empathy. "I can't even imagine what havoc the Elder Wand must have wreaked on your pitiful mudblood mind," she told her, simultaneously insulting and sympathizing with her. "You never should have picked it up. We – we never should've let you," Daphne added, sighing before continuing. "For that… I'm very sorry as well."
"So it wasn't me? The wand did it to me?" the mudblood asked, a flicker of hope lighting up her confused expression.
"Oh, it was absolutely you," Daphne retorted quickly, nipping Granger's favorable interpretation of the events in the bud. "Everything you did – all of it – came from you," Daphne stressed. "But... it's also true you never would've done any of it had you not picked up the Elder Wand," she reluctantly admitted, much to the mudblood's confusion.
Daphne didn't blame her for being confused. It was indeed a contradiction, or at least it seemed like one at first glance. The truth was, the Elder Wand didn't have an agenda. It didn't put thoughts into people's heads that weren't already there, albeit buried deep beneath layers of social conditioning. The terrible things most people did while wielding it – those were things they would have done anyway if they believed they had limitless power – nothing more, nothing less. It was also what made her fiancé, Harry Potter, immune to its influence – he was already doing what he truly desired, and having additional power wouldn't change that.
"I don't understand," Granger finally admitted after a long pause, her face scrunched in deep thought as she tried to decode Daphne's words.
"No, I don't expect you to," Daphne responded dismissively. Perhaps Granger deserved a more thorough explanation, if only for closure. But the last thing Daphne wanted was to discuss the secrets of the Elder Wand with her. "Your understanding wouldn't change the past," she told her instead. "It wouldn't change what you've done."
The girl sighed and lowered her gaze in defeat and despair. "And had things been different?" she asked after a moment. "Had I submitted to you as you wanted, what would have become of me, Daphne?" she asked, her downcast brown eyes meeting Daphne's. "Would I ever have been anything more than your slave? Was there ever any chance for me at all?" she asked skeptically.
Daphne studied her for a moment before replying. "Why would you even ask me that? Why wish to know how great your life could have been, knowing it can never happen now?" she questioned in disbelief. Every time Daphne thought she had Granger figured out, the girl surprised her with something else.
"Please. I need to know," Granger repeated, insistently.
Daphne considered her for a little longer before nodding. If the mudblood wanted to torture herself over what could have been, who was Daphne to deny her? Of course, Daphne had been down that road once before and knew the girl was unlikely to believe a word she would say. 'But perhaps there is a way around that,' she thought, and banged on the door. A second later, a guard entered. "Secure the prisoner... we're going for a walk," Daphne said, smirking in Granger's direction.
