Dark is the Day

Daphne's hands fluttered nervously in her lap and she tried not to wince as she felt her hair being firmly pulled back.

"Don't move your head around," her sister said, somewhat impatiently, as she started to braid it.

They were both sitting on Daphne's bed, and outside in the corridor they could hear their mother walking briskly down the hall, giving orders here and there to their two house elves. Daphne pressed her lips together and for what seemed like the hundredth time, she checked the state of her robes. They were dark blue and free of any wrinkles - her very best, in fact, though not so nice as the ones Blanche was wearing.

"There, I'm done," her sister said, dropping the braid and rising from the bed. She was wearing peach, lace-trimmed robes that floated elegantly around her, and whose loveliness contrasted sharply with Blanche's angular face and cold expression.

"Thank you," Daphne said. "When did Mother buy these new robes for you? They're very nice."

"She ordered them from Madam Malkin's last week," Blanche replied, checking her appearance in a mirror. "I reckon I'll get some more for my trousseau."

Daphne watched her sister delicately place a pin in her dark hair and said nothing. She wasn't sure how to feel about Blanche's wedding to Ancus Montague. He was Lucius Malfoy's nephew, the oldest son of his sister Corvina. Daphne had only met Ancus once, but he hadn't made the best impression upon her. He was heavy-set and spoke in a high, drawling voice that didn't match his frame. Blanche hadn't seemed too pleased with her fiancé's appearance either, but the engagement had been agreed on months before, and she had no choice but to accept his proposal.

The diamond nestled on Blanche's ring caught the light of the chandelier and sparkled for a moment as she tucked a lock behind her ear, but when she dropped her hand it faded away. Her sister turned around and looked down at her.

"Well, don't just sit there; we're expected downstairs," she said, motioning towards the door.

Daphne reluctantly followed Blanche out the door. She hated formal dinners such as these. Her parents had stressed the importance of showing impeccable manners many times. When she was younger, Daphne hadn't quite understood why; now she knew it was only meant to reflect on pureness of blood. Curtsying, never speaking unless addressed to, looking down at her lap - the last part wasn't so hard, though. Who would dare look at someone like Lucius Malfoy straight in the eye?

The two girls made their way down the long, winding stairs. Despite the July heat, it was cool inside the house, and Daphne couldn't help but shiver a bit. The Greengrass mansion was very old, and it was beginning to show signs of neglect. Whole wings, which once must have hosted oodles of guests, had been closed down, and the paint on the walls and mouldings was peeling off at places.

The Greengrass family, of which her father was the last heir, had long since lost its fortune. Yet Mrs Greengrass insisted on buying both girls expensive robes, and provided Daphne with the only the best supplies for school, as she had for Blanche when the young woman was still attending Hogwarts.

It was all a matter of keeping up appearances, Daphne knew, but her parents' efforts had paid off. Blanche was marrying into a wealthy, Pureblooded family. As for Daphne, she was well accepted amongst her housemates in Slytherin.

I wonder who I'll marry when I'm done with school, the dark-haired girl asked herself, absently trailing her hand along the banister. The thought made her uneasy, but she supposed a husband chosen by her parents was better than no husband at all.

When Daphne and Blanche arrived in the front hall, they found their mother in a state of great agitation.

"Dear me, I hope everything is ready. They'll be here any moment now," she said to no one in particular. "Oh, here you are, my dears," she added when she spotted her daughters. "Hurry up and go into the parlour with your father."

While Viviane Greengrass was a frail woman with large, feverish eyes, the head of the family, Wilhelm Greengrass, gave the impression of being a strong and authoritarian man. He had sharp, pale eyes and a mane of dark hair that blended into an elegant moustache. When Daphne and Blanche entered the parlour, he looked up at them and studied them for a moment, then nodded slightly in silent approval and motioned for them to sit down. Wilhelm Greengrass was not a very talkative man, especially where his daughters were concerned.

A moment later, Daphne heard the doorbell ring, and the tiny footsteps of their house elf running to open the door.

"Good evening, and welcome," her mother said in a warm voice. "It's such a pleasure to see you all again!"

Four other voices greeted her in return, and they drew nearer to the parlour as Mrs Greengrass led the way. Ancus entered the room first, followed by his parents, Corvina and Ambrose. Behind them, much to Daphne's surprise, was Narcissa Malfoy, looking sad and weary.

Daphne immediately rose to her feet and curved her lips into a polite smile, curtsying to each of the guests as they bade her a good evening.

"Greetings, my love," Ancus said pompously to Blanche, bending down to plant a kiss on her hand. The smacking sound echoed through the cavernous parlour.

"My, how Daphne has grown," Corvina said, stroking her cheek with a thin, dry hand. "Has she made her début yet?"

"It's planned for December," her mother replied, with evident pride. "She's very good friends Pansy Parkinson and other girls from Slytherin - I thought it might be best if she did her début along with them."

Corvina nodded. "A fine choice, indeed."

Daphne said nothing, but continued to smile.

"Narcissa, please, have a seat," Mister Greengrass said courteously, holding out a chair for her. "The drinks will arrive shortly."

"Thank you," Narcissa replied in a faint voice.

Daphne could hardly recognise the haughty, elegant witch she had seen many times before. Her husband's imprisonment seemed to have changed her drastically, but no one said a word about it.

The evening went by uneventfully, and the conversations revolved mostly around family affairs and the plans for Blanche and Ancus's wedding. As the dessert was served, however, Ambrose Montague made it take a different turn.

"It makes me happy that our two families will soon be united," the red-faced man said, smiling at the engaged couple and taking a gulp of his wine. "But alas, we live in troubled times - troubled times, no doubt."

"I couldn't agree more," Mrs Greengrass said, pressing her hand to her heart. "We were shocked and saddened by the news of Lucius's arrest, Narcissa. I can not tell you how it affected us."

"He was only doing his duty," Narcissa replied. "The Dark Lord would not have expected anything less of him."

Daphne cut a piece of strawberry tart with the side of her fork and glanced at her father. He seemed ill at ease, as he always was when the conversation turned to these matters.

"As you may know, my dear Wilhelm," Ambrose continued, "I am in charge of my unfortunate brother's affairs while he is in Azkaban. I think it would be his wish to ask you for a small favour - he knows the Greengrass family is an honourable one."

"We have not forgotten all we owe to the Malfoys," Mister Greengrass said humbly.

Ambrose gave a small, condescending smile. "As it happens, there are some - shall we say - possessions of Lucius's that should not fall into Ministry hands. Naturally, we thought of trusting them to you until things quiet down a bit."

Mister Greengrass stroked his beard, a grave expression on his face. "I see."

"Nothing too bothersome," Corvina said lightly. "Just some old family heirlooms."

Narcissa, who was sitting next to him, laid a hand on his arm, and for a moment, she looked like her old self again. "We have every confidence that you will not fail Lucius, Wilhelm."

"You need only ask, and I shall do whatever is in my power to help," he replied, bowing his head.

Daphne felt her cheeks burn. She wasn't used to seeing her father act like this - as if he had no will of his own - and it was a bit humiliating.

First, marrying Blanche off to Ancus, now this...

She shook the thought away quickly. Her family was a fading bloodline, with hardly enough money to live respectably. Her father had no choice but to seek support from the Malfoys, and this was the way he had to repay them.

"Please, help yourself to some more tart," her mother said amiably, breaking the tense silence.

Daphne accepted the second slice that was handed to her, but her appetite had long since gone. Nevertheless, she ate it down to the last crumb, and complied with a gracious smile when asked to play the piano after they had left the table.

Manners above all, her father had told her countless times. She was not about to let him down.