Chapter 7
Daphne is studying in the common room for a particularly tricky upcoming Charms test when Astoria slides into the seat beside her. Her little sister is tall and delicate in the extreme - she looks as fragile as a bird. Daphne knows it belies her strength. No ballet dancer worth her salt is weak. Astoria tucks her long, blonde hair up into a loose bun and smiles brightly.
‘Yes, dear sister?’ Daphne asks.
‘Have Mother and Father finally shaken off the Malfoys?’ she asks in a whisper.
Daphne grimaces. ‘Not entirely. Although correspondence has become sporadic. I think the Malfoys are spinning too many plates.’
‘Oh.’ Confusion creeps across her pale face. ‘You just seem so happy I thought they had finally called it off.’
Daphne bites the inside of her lip. ‘My joy grows with every day this deal falls apart.’
But her sister is not so easily fooled. Her eyes are sharp. ‘If it’s not that, what is it?’
‘Never you mind.’
‘No, do be fair!’ she pleads quietly. ‘Tell me!’
‘No.’
‘We are sisters, we should not keep secrets.’
‘That is exactly why we should keep secrets. You know enough about me as it is.’
Astoria pouts. ‘Spoilsport. Is it Zabini?’
‘Blaise is a friend.’
‘But he is handsome,’ she teases.
‘Malfoy is handsome and I won’t be touching him with a barge pole.’
Her sister’s expression falters. ‘Do you think if your engagement fails that it will come to me?’
Daphne shakes her head. ‘Our parents are flawed but they are not fools. They will not risk the same bargain twice.’ She reaches out to bump her knuckle under Astoria’s chin. ‘Fear not, Tori. We’ll get you that nice Selwyn boy you like.’
Astoria covers her blush with her hands.
A commotion by the fireplace draws their attention. Parkinson has a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with horror. Crabbe and Goyle are cracking their knuckles. Several people chatter excitedly. Daphne looks at Blaise who is hovering on the edge of it. After a moment he walks to her side.
‘Draco’s in the hospital wing.’ His voice is tense. ‘Someone hit him with a curse. A dark one.’
‘Merlin,’ Daphne breathes. ‘Will he be alright?’
‘He’ll be fine, but only because Snape found him in time. They’re saying it was Potter.’
The blood drains from her body. Can she hear it dripping to the floor? ‘Wow,’ she manages, ‘didn’t think the goody-two-shoes had it in him.’
Blaise scoffs. ‘Me neither.’
‘I’m glad Draco is alright, but now you really can’t marry him,’ Astoria mutters. ‘Losing in a duel to Potter?’
‘Again,’ Blaise adds.
Astoria hides her laugh in her palm. Daphne gives her a stony look. She is far too free with her emotions in public. She must grow out of it quickly if she is to survive.
But then Daphne is far too free with hers in private.
Because she cannot think of a reason not to, Daphne accompanies her classmates to the hospital wing. The more she considers them, the more ridiculous she finds the rules of their little society. She hates Malfoy with an acute passion and yet she must wish him well for the sake of appearances. For the sake of no one else considering Slytherins to be weak. It is clearer to her every day that nobody else cares what Slytherins are doing.
She takes exactly one look at Malfoy’s prone body. She cannot look again. His face and arms are littered with cuts that must have been deep. His pale complexion is waxy. There are blood replenishing potions at his bedside. She has no doubt those cuts do not stop where she can see them. Luckily someone changed him into a clean set of pyjamas. Everyone fawns over his injuries despite the fact he is dead asleep and will not hear them. They are trying to outdo each other in sympathy. Daphne keeps her eyes trained on his pillow and stays silent. Her treacherous gaze drifts to the angry red line that runs across his forehead and disappears into his hair. Her stomach lurches.
That night she goes to the Chamber of Secrets and is unsurprised to find Potter already there. It makes sense for him to be laying low. He is pacing up and down in front of their furniture. Only a few candles are lit. She keeps her wand in her hand as she approaches.
‘Daph!’ he gasps out. ‘I did something…I fucked up.’
‘I know,’ she replies warily. ‘I saw Malfoy in the hospital wing.’
His face is the picture of grief. ‘Is he going to be okay?’
‘Yes. Won’t even scar according to Madame Pomfrey.’
He lets out a huge sigh of relief, collapsing into one of the armchairs. ‘Oh god! Oh thank god. I thought I’d fucking killed him. Jesus!’
‘What did you do?’ she asks carefully.
He gives a helpless shrug. ‘We were duelling. He was going to throw a cruciatus at me and I just panicked. I didn’t know the spell would do that. I didn’t know what it would do. Thank god Snape was there. He knew the counter curse.’
‘Would he have died otherwise?’
The terror in his eyes tells her everything she needs to know. Daphne takes a step back. It is then he notices the wand in her hand. His look changes to confusion. He holds up his empty hands.
‘I’ve had enough of duelling for tonight, Daph.’
She swallows. ‘And I have seen enough to know never to duel you.’
‘But you can’t think I would ever hurt you…’ He gapes at her. ‘I wouldn’t!’
‘And I am not stupid enough to come here unprepared. Harry, what I saw in the hospital wing was the result of real and pure violence. The kind of violence I did not think you were capable of inflicting. I know you are a fighter but…I thought you were a defender. All your tales are of heroism. Merlin, I heard you convincing that snake to remain peaceful during the second year duel. This is…something else.’
‘It was a mistake,’ he pleads. ‘I used a spell I did not understand. I…took away my own accountability. Trust me, I am aware that what I have done is awful and…cruel. I am currently trying to understand that I am a person capable of that.’
‘You wanted me to hurt him before.’
‘Not like this! You can’t think I planned this? This was a mistake!’
‘Then I must ask myself if this is a mistake I can tolerate.’
He falls silent then. His eyes are glassy with tears. Daphne holds back her own as she continues.
‘You must understand that coming from a matriarchy I have been counselled against trusting men my whole life. When you are one of the few families headed by and primarily composed of women, there will always be men looking to tear you down. Looking to infiltrate. We cannot let just anyone into our trust. One of the first things my mother taught me was never to trust any man with a violent heart. If he can be violent to anyone, he can be violent to you. Your life is full of violence and that is not your fault. But you have never chosen it, as I learned the first night we met. Tonight you chose it. So I must judge your character once more. And judge if I trust myself to it.’
He blinks rapidly, tears escaping down his cheeks. ‘I understand but…You have to understand that I…I cannot separate myself from the things I’ve seen. The violence. It is in my dreams, my memories, it’s under my skin. And it hurts and it…festers like a wound, and I try not to let it control me. But when it’s life or death you don’t think like that. Malfoy was prepared to torture me and I know too much to let anything slip to the wrong person. And as much as I wish they had no hold on me, the things I have seen guided my poor judgement. I felt trapped. I reacted. I reacted poorly. That’s no excuse but it’s the explanation.’
‘So you’re a ticking time bomb?’ Her voice shakes. ‘What happens when you feel trapped with me? What happens when you lose your temper and there’s no Snape around to save me?’
‘Are you planning on throwing a cruciatus at me?’
‘Would that give you the right to kill me?’
He bows his head, wipes at his tears. ‘No, it wouldn’t. If I had known, I never would have thrown that curse. I don’t know how to make you believe that.’
Her heart beats wildly. ‘You’re the potions wiz. Don’t you have any veritaserum?’
‘I’ve kind of fallen out of love with potions,’ he mutters. He looks at her woefully. ‘But surely it doesn’t take that.’
‘I have no reason to trust you.’
Anger blooms in his expression although he tries to hide it. ‘Of course you do. You’ve been trusting me this whole time. Trusting me with your precious reputation.’
Her own anger spikes at that. ‘Do not mock me. And there is a vast difference between trusting you to keep a secret and trusting you with my life.’
‘Daphne, you know me. In ways a lot of people don’t. In ways no one does, if we’re being honest. You know I am not that kind of person. I made a mistake!’
‘If this is the magnitude of your mistakes then perhaps I was wrong to trust you in the first place.’
He throws up his hands in defeat, rising once more to pace back and forth. ‘I don’t believe this. I can’t believe I expected sympathy from you. I have had to beg everyone else to see the wrong in what I did!’
She scoffs. ‘Do not paint me with the same brush as your friends! I’m sure if it had been me you cursed they would have said the same thing. One more Slytherin down for the count!’
‘I was defending myself!’ he roars. ‘What would you have me do? Lay down and take it? Let Malfoy torture me?’
‘I would have you be better than Malfoy!’ Her voice echoes around the chamber. ‘That is why I picked you! Because you are better! Better than all of them!’
‘No, I’m not! I am not better than anyone! I am just a person who gets stuck in impossible situations every minute of my fucking life and is forced to do whatever I can to survive! You’ve put me on a pedestal I never asked to be on! Didn’t I tell you the first night we met? I want out, I want it to end! But it doesn’t and it never will. I was put into a corner and I defended myself. Would you judge anyone else so harshly for doing that? No. Because I am some stupid beacon of light and not a person anymore.’
Despite herself she rushes closer to him to hiss into his pitiful expression. ‘I do not care what you stand for. I never have. If you are a sword I loved you for your sharpness, not for that which you defend. But I was a fool for not seeing the danger in coming so close to a weapon.’
His eyes are pooled with tears. ‘Is that all I am? A weapon?’
‘Only if you allow yourself to be.’
There is nothing in her chest but a bone deep ache. His head falls onto her shoulder, a sob wracking his frame. Daphne stands stock still. She can feel tears rolling down her cheeks. His hands grasp at her desperately. She can almost hear him breaking apart.
‘I didn’t want to hurt him,’ he begs. ‘Please believe me. Please don’t add to the hell I’m already in.’
‘It is a hell of your own design,’ she murmurs weakly.
He wraps his arms around her stiff frame. ‘Daphne, please.’
How desperately she wants to give in. But there is a hard thing in her heart that tells her the truth of it: Potter is dangerous. The closer she gets to him the more danger she is in. It might not be him that hurts her, but something will. He draws mayhem towards himself like a magnet. And she cannot afford to make any more of his suffering her own.
‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice cracks under the weight of it. ‘I really am sorry.’
He draws back to stare at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. ‘No.’
She shakes her head. ‘I can’t do it. You are…a liability. And I can’t justify it anymore.’
‘No.’ Frustration enters his face. ‘You don’t mean that. You can’t leave me now.’
‘If I don’t leave you now I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to later.’ She rests her hand on his wet cheek. ‘Your life is too dangerous for me. I can’t pick that side.’
His eyes harden. ‘Whatever happens you will have to pick a side eventually. Are you going to side with cowards?’
She loosens his grip and steps back. He lets her go. ‘I am going to survive.’
‘So you would stand aside and let tyranny win?’
‘This is not my war.’ She wipes roughly at her tears. ‘I’m getting too far into it with you.’
‘Selfish,’ he breathes.
‘You cannot kiss that out of me.’
He looks at her as the sadness drains from his features. A hardness replaces them - that righteous anger she has seen so often. A muscle in his jaw ticks under strain.
‘There is only one choice the world forces us to make,’ he says bitterly. ‘The choice between what is right and what is easy. I hope you seriously consider that the next time it is presented to you. And consider what sort of life you will lead if you always pick what is easy.’
‘What else would you have me do?’ she asks softly.
‘Fight with us, Daphne. When the time comes.’
She shakes her head. ‘I am not a warrior.’
‘Then you are a coward.’ He pauses. She sees the anger rise in him again. ‘I cannot believe you’re judging me for this. For defending myself. This is a war. Just because you choose to ignore it doesn’t mean it’s not happening. You may claim you’re not taking a side but doing nothing is taking a side! By tolerating their actions you are one of them!’
She shakes her head. ‘I am not. I am independent.’
‘That’s a lie! You are lying to yourself!’
‘Do not lash out at me because the same level of judgement you level upon others is finally being returned!’ she snaps. He falls silent, his expression wounded. ‘You have always judged me, Harry, don’t deny it. And you always judged me lesser because I do not share your values. It is only fair that I judge you in return. It’s not nice, is it? To be found lacking by another. And as for this war, I am not foolish enough to risk my life fighting when my survival hardly matters.’
There is a question in his eyes. ‘Your survival matters.’
‘Not really.’ She gives a small and hopeless shrug. ‘I’m not going to be changing the world for better or worse, whatever the outcome. I’m not anybody’s advocate. So I refuse to be anybody’s pawn.’
‘I suppose that is the difference - the rest of us are fighting for our lives.’
‘And I wish you well. Truly, I do. But I won’t be there to see it. I never planned to be but now…I don’t think I could watch you do it. If I was a different person I could stand by your side, but…’ She takes a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, Harry.’
‘Fine.’ He sniffs. ‘Then go. Just remember the only time I ever hurt Malfoy on purpose was for you.’
She forces a short smile. ‘And I cherish the memory of his black eye.’
He does not smile in return. ‘I thought better of you.’
His words slide between her ribs like a knife. Daphne cannot think of a single thing to say to that. So she turns and walks out of the Chamber. He does not follow or call after her. She makes it all the way back to Myrtle’s bathroom before her legs give out and she collapses against the window seat, sobbing for breath.