A sinister green light glowed at the tip of Voldemort's wand, and he reared back like a beater about to strike a bludger. Harry, whether from exhaustion or inexperience, overcommitted, a faded and weak shield flickering in front of him and the Headmaster.

Only, as the Dark Lord swung his wand forward, his spell launched towards a different target - towards Daphne.

She was paralysed, heartbeat pounding in her ears as the spell flew directly towards her. Involuntarily, she cried out, widening her eyes and tensing in anticipation.

The impact never came. Daphne watched Harry leap from where he stood protectively in front of the Headmaster, launching himself in the path of the oncoming spell. There was a flash as it struck him in the back, and Daphne had an up close and personal view. His green eyes locked onto her own, an instant later vacant and empty, his body falling to lie at her feet in heap.

"Wake up!" she screamed, dropping to her knees, unable to stop herself despite knowing how futile her efforts were. "Wake up! You have to-"

"Wake up!" Astoria cried, shaking Daphne's shoulder, the other clutching at her hand.

"What- where are we?" Daphne said, blinking rapidly at her sister's shadowed form. Her terror amped up at her unfamiliar surroundings, her own hands gripping at her sister so hard Astoria gasped.

"Ow!"

It took Daphne a second to release her, chest still heaving, her body slow to relax from her fight-or-flight instinct. Right. Grimmauld Place, they were in Grimmauld Place. "I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

"Are you? You were crying in your sleep."

"I- I'm fine. It was just a bad dream. You should get back to bed." Daphne swung her legs to the floor, rising to help Astoria back to bed. She was doing better, no longer requiring the arm braces to get around, but old habits died hard. "Sorry for waking you."

"What was it about?"

"I don't recall," she lied. "Best to get some rest."

"Why?" Astoria asked, smile evident in her voice. "S'not like we've got a big day tomorrow."

That was true enough, but Daphne persisted nonetheless. "Hush, you. I'll go see if Dobby's willing to make some hot cocoa, to help you back to sleep."

"Well… alright."

Daphne pulled on a dressing gown and stepped into a pair of house slippers before padding her way down the hall. Even after more than a week since their move, she remained uncomfortable in this house. It was unnerving enough in the daytime, when there was at least some natural light to brighten its dreariness. Now, though? In the middle of the night, with the gas lamps creating flickering shadows all around her, teasing her peripherals with constant movement?

No wonder she wasn't sleeping well.

Deciding not to wake Dobby, Daphne went through the motions of heating some milk and adding chocolate, stirring the warm mixture as she returned to the room she shared with her sister. Pausing in the doorway, she regarded Astoria with a fond smile, the sleeping girl gently snoring away, blissfully asleep. Daphne set the cocoa on the nightstand for a moment, taking care to move slowly as she tucked the blankets securely around her little sister, then taking the drink and exiting the room once more.

Aimlessly, she roamed the hallways, sipping at her drink as she walked to the top floor of the hosue. The hippogriff's water bucket was full but, though despite the lateness of the hour, the beast's eyes tracked her from the moment she opened the door until she closed it behind her.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if there were more to do here, she thought, as she went down a flight of stairs to the second floor. There wasn't even schoolwork to occupy her time. Just day after day of reading bad news in the Prophet, watching her mother fret while her father was at work, and worrying for Harry.

This summer holiday, such as it was, promised to be the worst yet.

At least the family was together, healthy and whole. She cracked the door to her parents' room, seeing their slumbering forms in the darkness. Still, Daphne found it harder and harder to suppress the instinctive desire to act, to do something.

She'd spent more than a year in frenetic motion, careening headlong into life-altering situations and events. It was terrifying, no question, but she'd felt… she'd felt…

Useful. The exact opposite of her life at Grimmauld Place.

Raising the mug to her lips, Daphne finished her cocoa. It was a mistake, drinking that so late; rather than make her drowsy, the sugar only added to her restlessness. She tip-toed into the kitchen, rinsing out the mug and leaving it behind.

As she departed to head back for the staircase, Daphne's eyes fell on the heavy black curtains on the wall facing the entrance. She'd not spoken with the portrait since their first day in this house.

Who could blame her? It wasn't as though she'd had positive experiences with magical portraits. Her caution might be understandable, but… it was possible it was misplaced. After all - for better and for worse - Elysant was the catalyst for Astoria's eventual recovery.

She toyed with the drawstrings that kept the curtain closed, threading them through her fingers. It hadn't taken long to puzzle out the misconceptions the portrait held. Daphne walked past a nameplate that read Regulus Black - 'Reggie' - every time she visited her parents' room. Her parents knew little of him, as they were both older than Sirius, Regulus' elder brother, but the tapestry hanging in one of the corridors showed he'd died during the Dark Lord's first rise. A Dark Lord that the Black family overwhelmingly supported, according to her mother.

Daphne knew all of this, but apparently Walburga did not. She tugged sharply at the strings, the curtain pulling back and revealing the severe, elderly woman.

"You've returned!"

"Hello, Wal-" Daphne paused, then corrected herself. "Hello, Mother Black."

Walburga preened at her greeting. "A pleasure to see you again, dearie. Have you finally come to join me for a chat?"

"I'd like that," she said, smoothing out her dressing gown. "Forgive my appearance; I've been having trouble sleeping as of late."

"Oh? Is that so?" Walburga's concern was cloying, overbearing, and without a doubt artificial. "Perhaps unburdening your mind will bring you some relief."

"Perhaps," she agreed.

"Why not take a seat? Kreacher can- where is that miserable little beast? KREACH-"

Daphne held up a hand. "That's alright. I have my own elf. Dobby!"

With a pop!, her friend appeared, two sleeping caps hanging from his ears like cotton pigtails. "Miss Greeny calls?"

Turning to face him and drawing herself up, as though to mirror Walburga's posture, Daphne imperiously ordered, "A chair, elf, and a cup of tea to go with it." She winked at Dobby with the eye Walburga couldn't see.

Dobby grinned maniacally, bobbing his head in response to her demands. "Right aways, Miss… uh, mistress!" he cried, vanishing an instant later. Within a few seconds, a leather armchair appeared in front of the portrait, then a small coffee table, and finally a tea set atop it.

"You brought your own elf? To my home?"

Daphne took a seat, pouring herself a cup of tea but left it to sit, steaming on the table. She'd only just finished a mug of cocoa, after all. "I did. Your elf has proven to be rather unreliable. Certainly you don't expect me to clean and dust myself?"

Walburga blinked, then offered what seemed a genuine smile. "I would never. Accept my apologies for this unexpected lapse in hospitality. I'm surprised; that stupid little elf always favoured Reggie. I'd have expected with his return, Kreacher would be overjoyed."

Daphne leaned back in the chair, primly crossing her legs and adopting as regal a posture as she could. "Perhaps that's why he's been so difficult. Your heir has been absent since my family and I moved in."

"And why is that? I raised him better than that; it's not very gallant to neglect your betrothed."

Daphne reached out and lifted the teacup from the table, allowing her a distraction to break eye contact and gather herself before responding. "The Dark Lord's return keeps him rather preoccupied." That was the truth, at least. The Black heir, Harry Potter, was quite busy dealing with him.

"The Dark Lord?" Walburga's eyebrows raised. "You don't mean-"

"Lord Voldemort, himself, risen like a phoenix from the ashes," Daphne said, twisting her lips into what she hoped looked like a smile. It felt more like baring her teeth. Walburga was quiet after her pronouncement, so Daphne went on. "I'm sure that must come as nearly a great relief as your heir's return."

"Yes… yes, of course. That's wonderful news!"

Daphne took a moment to relish - for once - being the one in the know, having her opponent on the back foot. "You were there for the first war, weren't you?"

"I was…" Walburga said, her response slow and cautious.

"It must have been so inspiring, to see firsthand the way he gathered the righteous to his banner. Not to say he isn't a commanding figure now, of course, but I envy your experience, Mother Black."

"You've… met the Dark Lord?"

"Of course," Daphne said, taking a sip from teacup, pinkie out. "Certainly we have that in common, do we not? You must have been one of his devoted followers."

"I wouldn't go quite that far," Walburga murmured.

"No? But the Blacks were firm supporters of his cause. Your nieces wed some of his most faithful servants, after all."

"Yes, and Reggie was- well, I suppose I don't have to tell you anything about that."

"Indeed," Daphne agreed, the likelihood that Regulus died in service as a Death Eater ticking up several notches in her mind.

She waited for Walburga to continue, but the portrait was quiet for several moments. "The people- the interlopers that trespassed in this house. What became of them?"

"They've been evicted," Daphne said with a breezy gesture of her hand. "You don't think I'd allow muggle-lovers in my future home, do you?"

"Absolutely not!" Walburga enthused, and it seemed to Daphne that the quiet suspicion eased and the portrait regarded her more warmly. "Oh, you don't know what it does for my old heart to see the world set right!"

Well. Time to go all-in, as it were. "Tell me more, please, about the way it was before," Daphne said earnestly. "I want to hear all about how the Blacks brought about our Lord's campaign to victory."

Walburga giggled, as though she were a schoolgirl and not a decrepit old crone. "I can't say we deserve all the credit. The Dark Lord is a remarkably powerful man."

"But… your family is so powerful and influential. Surely he couldn't have achieved so much without your support?"

"You didn't hear it from me, my dear!" Walburga tapped her nose with one finger, confirming Daphne's statement - or at least, that Walburga believed Daphne's assertion to be true. "I will say that our family has always had a keen eye for talent. Something my Reggie no doubt employed when choosing you!" she added.

Somehow she held back from rolling her eyes. "I want to hear all about it. Who were your allies in gathering support? Who were weak links, that needed pressuring to join our crusade? I want to be prepared to serve our Lord to the best of my ability, you know."

Walburga needed no further prompting, and she began to tell the story of a young, unknown wizard's rise to murderous 'glory', spinning the tale for attentive audience. All the while, Daphne focused intently on the information provided, cataloging bits of useful intelligence about people, places, and events.

Yes. It was much, much more satisfying to be useful.

"What are you doing?"

Astoria didn't look away from the window at Daphne's question, choosing instead to continue staring out the window. "Nothing." Then, with a rather (in Daphne's opinion) dramatic sigh she added, "Like always."

She approached her younger sister, peering over her head to take in the view of the muggle square surrounding Grimmauld Place. Masses of people, scurrying about. All of them no doubt equally as horrid as those disgusting beasts in Surrey. "If you're bored, let's find something to do. How does that sound?"

"Can we go out?"

"What, out there?" Daphne was momentarily flabbergasted at the proposition. "Certainly not!"

"How come? Look how sunny it is! I bet it's warm out. Are we going to spend the whole summer inside?"

"It's hardly summer, yet," Daphne offered, in lieu of an actual reply.

"I want to go out! I want to move around, I want to see things, to… to live!" Astoria said, pressing both her hands against the window.

"It's not safe…" she started, but her excuse fell flat. They'd been attacked in their own home, with all of its protections and defenses. As disgusting as Daphne found them to be, it was unlikely a muggle street would offer the same sort of danger that Death Eaters do. "Mum and Dad would never let you go out, you know that."

"Couldn't you take me? You're of age now. Please?"

A wistful smile stretched across Daphne's face at Astoria's plaintive, pleading tone. She leaned down, kissing the top of her sister's head. "I'll ask Mum, but you know as well as I what she'll say. None of us are familiar with muggle spaces, much less comfortable trying to blend in with them." She could see, in the reflection of the window, the way Astoria's expression lit up with excitement.

It took a considerable amount of time and energy to win her mother over, but after nearly a full hour of guarantees and promises, the Greengrass sisters opened the front door and stepped out into the sunshine. The two of them walked along the footpath, Daphne using one hand to clutch her sister's, keeping the other tucked beneath her jumper clasped around her wand.

They walked for a half-hour, but when Daphne saw Astoria's stride start to become stilted, her pace slowing, she quickly steered them to an empty bench along the side of the street.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm just a little tired," Astoria said, wearing a thin sheen of sweat over her forehead. "Sorry."

"What are you sorry for? Here, let's get your hair up," Daphne said, quickly gathering her sister's hair and tying it up to keep it off her neck. "Do you want to rest for a bit before we head back?"

Astoria nodded, her eyes darting all around the busy street. They were on some kind of commercial stretch, merchants with carts of strange goods and exotic foods hawking their wares, all the while a constant stream of metal carriages rumbled to and fro belching noxious smoke. To Daphne, it was frightening, overwhelming, but her sister was enraptured, barely able to keep her gaze still for more than a few seconds at a time.

"Daphne?"

"Yes?"

"Can we go look at the vendors?"

She pursed her lips, but couldn't think of a valid reason not to. It didn't seem any more dangerous than being outdoors to begin with, truthfully. "Alright, but you have to listen to me, okay?"

"Yes!"

Daphne helped her up, and the two of them started walking among the merchants, making their way among the various muggles lined up to partake in their fares and services. She'd never felt so out of place; some of the people weren't even speaking English! In England!

Astoria was practically dancing in place as they looked around, excitedly pointing here and there. "What's that?"

"Uh… I don't know."

"What about that, there?"

"I don't know, Astoria."

She pulled Daphne closer to a cart with trays of rice and other (unrecognisable) foods. "That smells really good! What's Vye-et-names food?"

The vendor, a wrinkled Asian woman probably older than Walburga, motioned them forward. "Vietnamese food," she corrected. "Here, have a taste."

"We don't have any money," Daphne protested, but the woman waved away her words with the serving spoon she held.

"Free sample! Try, try!"

Daphne stiffened as Astoria reached out, taking the flimsy, clear cup with rice and the nameless meat. She gave it a hesitant sniff, then opened her mouth and threw it back, chewing cautiously with her eyes closed.

"It's so good!" she groaned. "I've never had anything like it! It's delicious!"

"Thank you," Daphne said for her, and the vendor laughed and told them to come back soon. "Come along, Astoria."

"Daphne! We have to come back with some muggle coins!"

"Shhh," she whispered urgently. "You can't talk about things like that out here!"

"Oh, sorry. But really! Can we?"

"Where would we get their type of money?" Daphne asked, breathing a sigh of relief as they left the crowded commercial area for the (slightly less crowded) footpath to take them back to Grimmauld.

Astoria stared at the empty container she'd received her sample in wistfully. "I bet Harry could give us some."

Daphne shrugged. "Maybe he could. But I think we shouldn't bother him with such things. Times are… it's difficult, right now, you know that."

"Yea…" Astoria agreed in a muted tone, and Daphne winced as she realised her statement probably resurrected unpleasant memories of the night Death Eaters attacked their home.

"Tell you what, why don't you have Kokko send him a letter? Maybe he has a bit of muggle money he could send back in the post."

Astoria nodded, but didn't reply, and the two of them walked back to Grimmauld in silence, at a slower pace this time.

They turned onto Grimmauld Place (the street), with Daphne pausing to focus on the enchanted pass-phrase as they neared their destination, the house squeezing into existence between its muggle neighbours.

"Are you hungry?" Astoria shook her head. "Why don't you go lie down, and I'll bring you some water?"

Astoria stopped on the front stoop, turning around to look out over the muggle environs. "We're safe here, right? Inside the protective enchantments?"

Daphne nodded. "Yes. The house is hidden from muggles."

"Would it be alright if… I mean, can we sit out here, just for a little while longer?"

"Astoria," Daphne started to say, then sighed helped her sit down on the stoop, watching as she stretched her legs out once she was seated. "Today was a lot for you, you need your rest."

"Just a little while longer," she repeated.

Daphne sat down alongside her, the two Greengrasses watching muggles hurrying along, unnoticed despite only being a few feet away.

"Daphne?" Astoria asked after a few minutes.

"Yes?"

"I-" she started, then fell silent. Daphne waited, and eventually, she said, "Do you think we'll go back to school in the fall?"

"I don't know. Maybe. We'll have to go back eventually," she said.

Astoria looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers like she was preparing to pick up a quill at any moment. "It feels like forever since I was last at Hogwarts." Daphne nodded, but didn't respond. "I didn't think I'd ever make it back, once I left."

She reached out and placed her hand over Astoria's. "That's all in the past. The only thing you need to worry about now is keeping your marks up, okay?"

Astoria rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mum," she said sarcastically, a hint of the sassy, spoiled child peeking through.

More time went by, enough that the sun started to retreat behind London's intimidating skyline. "We should get inside, it won't be long 'til dinner."

"Wait! I need to talk to you!"

"No, it can wait, we've been out the whole afternoon, it's time to-"

Astoria held onto her arm, keeping her from standing. "Not yet."

"Astoria-"

"I want to know how you did it."

Daphne crinkled her brow. "Did what?"

"How you- how you and Harry, I mean, how you saved me."

"What?" Daphne froze, her movements stilled.

"I want to know how you saved me," she repeated slowly, like she was explaining something to a small child. "Mum and Dad, all the healers, they all said it couldn't be done. But you and Harry did it, somehow. I want to know what happened."

Daphne was flummoxed. Sure, she'd imagined how this conversation would go, pictured it endlessly over the last year and a half. At first, when she'd initially set out to complete her task, she'd thought it would be a tale of triumph, of her cunning winning out over centuries-old Dark magic and thick-headed Gryffindors. Later, it was something she'd thought she would tell of together with Harry, side-by-side and hand-in-hand, the story of how they'd rescued Astoria and found each other.

Those fantasies all melted away and evaporated over the last few months, lost in the darkness of her despair at her own failure, her desperation and grief, and the blind terror of the end of her Sixth Year. When the malediction was miraculously dispelled, she'd hardly spared a thought to how she'd explain it to the little girl to whom it would matter most.

But she wasn't a little girl any longer, not really. Daphne blinked, her imagination superimposing the child Astoria was before her sickness intensified with the teenager presently sitting next to her. It was easy to forget that, while Astoria was pulled out of Hogwarts a few months into her Third Year, by all rights she should be starting her OWL year in the autumn.

The isolation she'd endured due to her sickness made her more innocent, more sheltered, but she wasn't naive, and Astoria was nothing if not sharp. Somewhere along the way, Daphne had frozen her sister in time, forgetting that she'd grown up just as she herself had, albeit under vastly different circumstances.

Astoria didn't quail under her stare, fearlessly meeting her sister's gaze. "I deserve to know," she said quietly.

Daphne swallowed, then wet her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling dry, her throat strangely scratchy. "Tonight, after dinner," she said faintly. "I'll tell you after dinner."

She nodded, turning back to her muggle-watching, but Daphne kept her eyes on Astoria, staring at her for the rest of their time together on the stoop.

After tonight, there'd be no more secrets.

A/N: Been awhile. I owe a big thank you to EmptyChair (for reminding me that this is DAPHNE'S story, not HAPHNE's story), and Anee-1 (for pointing out everyone knows what Daphne did for Astoria except Astoria). Their reviews really are the reason I got over the writer's block i had for this story.

I know this is a short chapter. Apologies. Especially given how it's been ages since I updated it - actually, it's been awhile since I updated anything. Trying to get back in the groove of brainstorming. AMR doesn't have a lot left; probably 10 or so chapters if I hit my usual word counts, 15 or so if they are as short as this one was. In other words, we're very much on the downhill.

Regarding this chapter, it feels like it was an awkward place to end it. I want to think a little more about what/how Daphne would say to her sister, because I'm not entirely sure how that convo would happen. Daphne does treat her like a child, but Astoria's not as 'little' as she acts (as noted at the end of the chapter). How do you think that works, where a child is ill throughout long periods? It's something I want to mull over a bit more.

Take care, everyone (and read The Discordant Pattern!).

~Frickles