Fall From Grace

Fall from grace

Chapter 2

"I expect," the chilly voice intoned, "a vial of this potion from every one of you on my desk by the end of the period today." The sharp obsidian eyes of the Potions Master regarded each of the students in the dungeon lab. "Do try," he added glaring at certain Gryffindors, "to keep your typically careless attempts from injuring your classmates this time. Now get to work!" Although Severus Snape spared no one when it came to his acid observations and needle-sharp comments, he was known to be particularly harsh with the Gryffindors in his class.

The dour professor moved up the aisle between the desks, obviously heading toward a few Gryffindor pairings he would undoubtedly re-sort. As he passed Daphne, he glanced at her and nodded briefly before resuming his task. Daphne almost smiled at him in response but nodded instead before smirking at the minor flap he was causing amongst her classmates. Although Snape seemed callous and cruel he was less so with his own Slytherin charges.

As students milled around the lab and began settling into their pairings for this project, Daphne quickly glanced around her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Blaise heading her way. Although usually glad to be partnered with her best friend, the events in the Slytherin common room the previous night still left her feeling irate with the boy. She hastily gathered her things and rudely brushed past Blaise before he could stop her. Spotting Draco Malfoy alone at his desk and gathering the ingredients he needed for the potion, Daphne quickly walked toward him. She knew that Snape usually paired Crabbe and Goyle with some unfortunate Gryffindors leaving their brainy leader free to pick his own partner or to even work alone. Without a word of greeting Daphne placed her books down on the desk beside his. Draco regarded her with an eloquent raised eyebrow.

"Hello, Draco," Daphne drawled. She saw a flicker of a question in his silver-gray eyes.

"Partners then?" Draco inquired simply.

"Yes," Daphne replied, relieved that her blond housemate did not outwardly react to her bold assumption.

"Fine," Draco said shortly, already turning his attention back to the task at hand. "Start prepping the ingredients and try not to muddle anything up." His tone was abrupt but not hostile.

Daphne noticed there was a bit of an edge to the boy's voice but decided against querying him. She knew Draco hated nosy meddling and getting on his bad side so early in the year seemed pointless. Merely nodding, she helped him sort through the ingredients and began cutting roots and grinding seeds while leaving the more complex steps of the preparation to Draco.

Daphne and Draco worked in silence for several minutes. Without stopping his work, Draco glanced at Daphne from across the desk. "Why didn't you pair up with Zabini?" he inquired mildly.

Daphne was surprised that Draco would even bother asking her a question that had nothing to do with himself. He almost never talked to her and if he did it was to ask for missed notes or the simple hello and goodbye. She tried not to look so obviously startled by his inquiry. Schooling her expression into one of bored indifference, she shrugged. "No reason," she said blandly. "I just felt like a change of scenery." Daphne smiled in a beguiling manner, knowing full well that Draco wouldn't be fooled for a second by it.

Draco gazed at her for a moment. "Right," he finally said, smirking and turning his attention back to the potion he was mixing into the cauldron.

Daphne was glad that Draco didn't probe further. She realized that any explanation would sound silly and childish. She glanced over to where Blaise stood. Snape had apparently paired him up with a ditzy brunette and Blaise did not look the least bit happy about it. Suppressing a snicker, Daphne turned back and continued chopping roots.

Working quietly together, Daphne and Draco finished their potion with time to spare. They cleaned up the desk and snickered briefly at some of the more disastrous results concocted by other students.

When class was over Draco took the stoppered and labeled flask to Professor Snape and swiftly left the lab without another word. Daphne gathered her things mulling to herself about the slight behavior change in Draco Malfoy. He somehow seemed quieter this year and less interested in crowing and strutting about like before. Shaking her head she realized that Snape was watching her and seemed to have noticed that Blaise had also left the dungeon lab without waiting for Daphne. She sighed inwardly knowing that the Potions Master missed very little when it came to his Slytherin charges.

Deciding she wasn't prepared to explain any aspect of her already complicated life to anyone, Daphne quickly followed the lead of her housemates and hurriedly left the lab before Snape could corner her.

**********

The first week of the term flew by quickly for Daphne. She had managed to practically ignore Blaise since the start of it. Although she missed his company enormously and her conscience did prickle a bit when she caught his hurt and reproachful expression, she was still baffled and frustrated by his refusal to tell her what had kept him away from her during the whole journey back to Hogwarts. Daphne was fairly certain that Blaise was involved with yet another paramour but she could not recall any clue he might have dropped as to the mystery lover's identity.

In an attempt to rid herself of both the loneliness and guilt of her self-imposed solitude, Daphne kept to her studies and wiled away her free time by writing poetry in the leather bound notebook she had received for her fifteenth birthday. During one such moment of poetic inspiration she sat cross-legged on one of the couches in the Slytherin common room, busily scribbling down a new passage for her most recent work of art. So intensely focused on transferring idea to parchment that Daphne effectively blocked out her surroundings, not even pausing to snap admonitions to annoying first years. She didn't even realize when all her other housemates had retired to their dorms. While she re-read her poem to herself she suddenly felt a finger poke her side. Yelping in shock, she whipped out her wand and pointed it at the intruder. She fought the urge to grin when she saw the smirking face of her neglected best friend.

"Shit!" Daphne cried, reluctantly pushing her wand back into her cloak pocket. "I hate it when you do that!"

"And that, darling," he drawled, "is why I keep doing it." He watched her shift sulkily away and make to ignore him by turning back to her notebook. "Oh, come on, Greengrass," he cajoled. "When are you going to forgive me?" He fluttered his eyelashes at her in a girly manner.

Resisting the urge to laugh at Blaise's silliness Daphne glared heatedly at the boy. "Never," she replied coolly. "You're still a poncey prat!"

"But I miss you, Daphne," Blaise whimpered in his best rejected puppy tone. "Please stop being mad at me. We haven't talked in forever."

Finding it impossible to stay mad at her friend, Daphne was still reluctant to forgive and forget. "Are you going to tell me where you were during the train ride and the Opening Feast?"

Blaise sat down beside Daphne on the common room sofa. "I already told you," he said softly. "I was with someone."

"But who?" Daphne demanded. Blaise had always been eager to tell her about all his romantic escapades. She couldn't understand why he was being so secretive all of a sudden. "Is it --?" She paused dramatically and peered around the common room as though checking for eavesdroppers. "Is it a girl?" She smirked when Blaise began laughing uproariously. "I guess not," she murmured sardonically.

"Nice try, sweetheart," Blaise chortled, wiping his eyes with a finger. "I like my side of the fence far too much for that to happen." He gazed soberly at her. "I'll tell you soon," he promised. "I'm just not sure about things with him right now. I'm a little scared and a little excited at the same time. Once I work it out a bit more I'll tell you. Okay?" He smiled disarmingly at her. "I really did miss you, Daphne. You know I can't stand it when you're mad at me."

Somewhat placated by the realization that Blaise might actually be serious about someone, Daphne smirked and playfully punched his arm. "Asshat," she muttered semi-fondly.

"Ouch," Blaise said reproachfully while rubbing his arm. "But aren't I a lovable asshat?" he added in a hopeful tone.

"Yeah," Daphne said, finally capitulating. "They broke the bloody mold when they made you all right." Relieved that she had her friend back with her, she leaned against him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "But I won't forget that you promised to tell all later." Satisfied when he nodded, she sighed and relaxed, enjoying the momentary peace between them.

They sat quietly together for a few minutes while Daphne attempted to sort through her chaotic thoughts of late. "Blaise?" she finally whispered, reluctant to break the quiet but feeling the need to talk.

"Daph?" Blaise returned, not moving from his comfortable and cozy position.

Daphne didn't flinch or correct Blaise as she normally would when someone used the nickname. He was the only friend who was allowed the privilege. "I'm sorry," she said to him softly. "I did get rather melodramatic over the whole thing. Forgive me?"

Blaise wrapped both arms around Daphne, drawing her even closer to him so that she was pillowed against his chest. "Nothing to forgive," he replied softly. "I completely abandoned you that first day and I didn't explain myself." He gently kissed the top of her head. "Are we all right?" he queried.

Daphne nodded and smiled. She sighed contently when Blaise began rubbing her shoulders. "I missed that too," she murmured, feeling herself relax into his massage.

"So I see," Blaise commented, smirking. "You're so tense, love." He kneaded and rubbed her shoulders in small circles, paying extra attention to the hard knots he felt there. "I've got buttons softer than these spots."

Daphne winced a bit at Blaise's ministrations on her shoulders but did not move. "After another summer in that house with that bitch?" she snorted. "What do you expect?" She leaned into his hands, enjoying both the therapy and pain of the massage.

"How is dear Aunt Matilda?" Blaise queried chuckling. "Still flooding the house with all her boy toys?"

"Oh please!" Daphne moaned. "Aunty dear finally settles for one stud and he just has to be the creepiest Muggle I've ever met. Enrique fucks her into a brainless screaming frenzy in bed and then asks me the next morning if I was listening to them and enjoying it too." She shuddered. "I was using silencing charms on their bedroom all summer."

Blaise snickered. "Sounds as though he's more interested in the niece than the aunt," he commented mildly.

Daphne made a gagging sound. "I just hope Matilda gets tired of him." She was silent for a moment as Blaise finished his massage on her. Feeling utterly boneless and relaxed, she sighed. "Do you think I'm pretty?" Daphne suddenly asked her friend.

Blaise leaned back a bit so he could see Daphne's face. Her expression was bleak and just a bit afraid. "I think you're exquisite," he replied seriously. It bothered him that she seemed unable to see the alluring beauty of her own appearance. "You know guys give you a hard time because they're all absolutely taken with you." He poked her side teasingly. "You are one comely witch. I told you that."

Daphne stared down at her hands. "Father didn't think so," she said softly. "And Matilda always reminds me that I'm homely like Mum was."

Blaise hissed in annoyance. "Don't even mention that asshole," he said angrily. "I told you to never think of him again." He tightened his embrace of her. "And since when do you listen to anything that greedy twit of an aunt says to you?"

"I can ignore Matilda," Daphne conceded. "But how can I not think about the asshole? He's my father!" She sighed. "His blood runs through my veins." Feeling Blaise stiffen, she clamped her mouth shut quickly, nervously glancing down at her arms covered by the long sleeves of her sweater and robe. She knew her best friend would not let that comment pass.

Pulling away from Daphne, Blaise grabbed hold of her arm, pushing the sleeves up past her elbow. He swore when he saw freshly healed lacerations as well as the scars from previous cuts. "Daphne!" Blaise cried. "You promised me you wouldn't do this to yourself anymore." He grabbed both her arms and made her look at him. His usually honey-colored eyes were dark with anger, fear and worry. "What happened?"

Daphne stared up at Blaise, visibly fighting back tears. "I want to be rid of him," she whispered. "Father is dead but he still mucks up my life. I don't want his filthy blood in me." She swallowed when she saw Blaise's eyes fill with tears. "I don't want to be his daughter anymore."

Blaise's normally tan complexion had gone deathly pale. "Daphne," he pleaded tremulously. "Not this way. Never this way!" He gently rubbed the healing scars on her arms; a fruitless gesture he knew, but he couldn't help himself. "You said you wouldn't cut yourself anymore. How are your legs?"

"The same," Daphne replied softly. "Those are healing too." She closed her eyes for a moment to reclaim her poise. Opening her eyes, she gazed evenly at her best friend. "I don't want nightmares anymore," she told him. "I don't want to cry anymore. I thought that maybe if I bleed enough the memory of him will fade away."

Blaise released Daphne's arms and pulled her into a tight hug. "I know, love," he murmured. "If I could I'd cast a memory charm on you to wipe his stench from your memory I'd do it." He sighed. "Cutting yourself has never solved the problem before. It won't do it now."

Daphne clung to Blaise as though her life depended on it. Strangely, although her insides felt twisted from everything that had happened, she did not feel the urge to cry. She had cried enough over the summer. "I'm sorry, darling," she said softly. "The cutting does help me. When my arms and legs hurt from the bleeding I don't think so much about all the other shit." She hugged him tighter. "I know you're worried about me."

"Of course I worry," Blaise said firmly. "One of these days you'll kill yourself and then where will I be? Don't leave me!"

"I won't leave you," Daphne said tiredly. "I'll be all right." She stared vacantly into the flames crackling merrily in the fireplace. "I'm always all right."

**********

Daphne ran.

She raced through the halls as fast as her legs could carry her. Daphne needed to escape; needed to run faster somehow but that man -- that shadow chasing her was relentless. He's going to catch me, Daphne thought frantically. Gripped by terror and an urgent will to survive she began to cry, doggedly running blindly through her tears. He's going to kill me this time! Her arms flailed this way and that, trying to push away unseen barriers. Her breathing grew ragged and she could feel herself slowing down and growing weaker.

Daphne could hear the footsteps of her pursuer as he drew closer and closer to her. Suddenly she felt him grasp the back of her shirt, dragging her back so that she stumbled and fell to the ground. Before she could recover, Daphne felt a hard-knuckled fist smash first into her jaw and then again into her cheek. The blows were solid and vicious. Daphne could taste the blood in her mouth. Her attacker just laughed, seeming to grow stronger as she grew weaker. She saw him draw his fist back for another punch. She screamed.

"Father! No!"

At the last moment before his fist could make contact with her face, Daphne rolled over, landing with a hard thump on the cold floor. She sat up, prepared to bolt away and attempt another escape from the brutal beating. Momentarily disoriented, she realized she was in her dorm at Hogwarts and that her father was nowhere to be seen. It had been another one of her nightmares and now she was sitting gasping and trembling on the cold stone floor of her dorm where she had fallen out of bed.

Daphne nervously peered around to see if she had disturbed any of the other girls in the room. No one seemed to be stirring and, in fact, she could hear some rather inelegant snoring. Fruitlessly rubbing her arms in an attempt to stop her trembling from both cold and fear, she carefully stood up and crept to the girl's washroom. Wandering almost zombie-like over to the basin, Daphne caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She almost didn't recognize the unkempt ghost-like waif staring back at her.

Deciding she would be unable to sleep, Daphne washed up and returned to her dorm. She sat on her bed, clutching her notebook close to her and staring into space, waiting for the blessed numbness of apathy to take over.

She left the girls dormitories early, even before breakfast had been served in the great hall and decided to spend her day in the library looking for a sleeping draught.

Three hours and two parchments later, Daphne was so engrossed in finishing her assignment, she failed to notice anyone else around her until a hand placed a plate of fruits and muffins on the table near her textbooks. She gasped, fully prepared to level a brutal telling-off at the intruder when she realized the Potions Professor himself stood before her, watching with what appeared to be a bland expression.

"You missed breakfast," Snape said almost reproachfully. "Again."

With any other teacher, Daphne would have given a tiny careless shrug before pointedly pushing the plate away. However, since it was the Slytherin Head of House who probably knew her better than her own father, she obediently nodded and popped a bite of muffin into her mouth. She noticed with amusement that Snape had even buttered the muffin and peeled the orange for her. He obviously knew all her quirks and excuses when it came to not eating. "Thank you, sir," she murmured, managing a small grateful smile.

Snape nodded and then, to Daphne's dismay, pulled out a chair across from her and sat. "You're not well," he said. "Are you having trouble sleeping?"

Daphne bristled at the man's probing as well as his uncanny ability to read her. "I'm fine, sir," she replied, a bit more abruptly than she meant to.

"Of course you are," the Potions Master drawled, undeterred. "I just hadn't realized that young girls these days wore their shadows under their eyes rather than on their lids." He smirked slightly at her resentful glare. "If you weren't under the mistaken notion that you're a woman rather than still a girl, I'd drag you to the hospital wing and let Madam Pomfrey put you into a coma for a day or two." His expression softened. "You had a difficult summer I take it?"

Daphne sighed. "No more than usual, Professor," she said resignedly.

Gazing at the drawn and tired girl, Snape obviously could read behind her bland answer. However, he also knew better than to force the issue so he merely nodded in response. "Come see me in my office this afternoon," he instructed. "I'll give you a sleeping draft." When she nodded, he stood. "Don't overtax yourself, Miss Greengrass," he said dryly. "I can't have you collapsing over your Potions essay. The Headmaster will think I push my students too hard." With a final smirk, he turned and left the library.

Daphne smirked at Snape's retreating back. The man missed his calling, she thought ironically. He should have been a nanny. Snickering softly at the thought, she turned back to her Potions essay.

An hour later, Daphne had finished her essay and was now gazing out a nearby window in the library. She was debating about whether she wanted to even bother going to the Great Hall for the mid-day meal when a shadow fell across the table she sat at. Thinking that Blaise had finally tracked her down she turned to smirk unrepentantly at him. Daphne was shocked to see a tall sandy-haired Gryffindor grinning down at her.

Recovering quickly, Daphne frowned at Seamus Finnigan. It was all she could do to keep from mirroring that ridiculous smile of his. "What do you want?" she demanded in as waspish a tone as she could manage.

Though it hardly seemed possible, Seamus' grin grew wider. "I believe," he said in his low lilting Irish brogue, "that 'hello' is the more socially acceptable greeting." He ignored her derisive snort. "So, hello, Daphne. Mind if I sit?" He indicated the seat opposite her's.

"Yes," Daphne retorted, "I do mind."

"Splendid," Seamus said, inexplicably delighted as he sat down. "A sickle for your thoughts?" he queried pleasantly.

"What?" Daphne said, baffled.

"Sorry," Seamus said sheepishly. "Muggle figure of speech." He gazed at her from across the table. "I saw you sitting here alone and all dreamy. I just had to come over and say hi." He noticed her regarding him silently and balefully. "Don't like me already, do you, lass?"

Resisting the urge to smile and stick her tongue out at Seamus, Daphne frowned at him again. "Why are you even here talking to me?" she asked. "You act like we know each other."

"We don't," Seamus returned easily. "That's why I'm here. I'm attracted to pretty soulful dreamers."

Daphne tried to ignore the tingle strumming down her spine. "Then why don't you go find one?" she quipped. She was secretly delighted when he laughed.

"I thought I found one," Seamus admitted ruefully. "Perhaps I was mistaken. All right, lovely." He smiled sweetly. "You got me. Can I bother you until I do meet a pretty soulful dreamer?"

Daphne flinched and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. How she would have loved to hex Seamus except she was sure he would grin at her again. The color was returning to her cheeks now due to exasperation. "Look, I don't associate myself with," she paused to think of the right words, "your kind."

Chocolate eyes regarded her dolefully. "And what kind am I?" Seamus queried. Daphne wasn't sure but there seemed to be an implicit challenge in his light tone.

"The boorish Gryffindor kind," Daphne replied. "Your shield of honor and justice clashes with my more cunning and shadowy mantle."

To her surprise, Seamus chuckled. "You're a poet," he observed. "I can tell. Poets make pretty passages from ordinary words, even when they're trying to be insulting."

Finding herself wanting to coo and giggle at his perceptiveness annoyed Daphne enormously. She refused to be charmed by the persistent Irish boy who was still grinning at her like a loon. "Nice try, Gryffindor," she drawled. "You've just reminded me that I have an appointment with one of my professors." She stood up and swept up her things before he could stop her. "Nice of you to stop and chat," she sneered. "Next time bring a friend with some brains. Then at least it would be entertaining."

Seamus chuckled again. "So you like threesomes, eh?" he said cheerfully. "This is sounding better and better." He smiled benignly at her withering parting glare and watched her march away from him out of the library. "Damn Slytherins," he murmured, chocolate eyes twinkling.