not my problem!

D A P H N E  G R E E N G R A S S 

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, / And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

“I think your head’s safe, Daph,” he replied lightly, determining it was probably best to let that one rest. Millicent was and always had been an acquired taste in company and while Blaise had never understood the aversion to her — if he had to hazard a guess the heads were probably a major determining factor. Blaise found them interesting in the same way he found her proclivity for boxed wine interesting, largely in that he didn’t necessarily understand it but appreciated the sentiment of living life in a way that did not care about what other people thought. Nobody else in their friend group was quite so willing to undertake strange little side-quests with him as Millicent was.  

Leaning into the comfort of company that was easy in a way that his other friend’s rarely allowed themselves to be, he huffed out a laugh at the offer to hide in the shadow of her hair (which was an entirely achievable goal). “Does that make you my bodyguard now? You know I should be paying you for that.”

Even the most dedicated paparazzo (or at the very least, that weird little Creevey kid) wouldn’t stand a chance against the full force of Daphne Greengrass. “I thought they might mistake me for a new addition to the fountain.” Which was a much better answer than the frown that began to settle in at the mention of Theo and his decision to relegate Blaise to leper status since his return. “Have you seen him tonight? I think he’s upped his hide and seek game since I left.”

It was cute that Blaise would think Daphne’s head was safe, Daphne just giving him her usual smile. With such fantastic hair wouldn’t Millie desire her head more? Or perhaps their mutual dislike of each other would keep her acquaintance from going after her. Daphne wouldn’t want to look at the head of someone she hated all the time after all but who knew how Millie even thought. 

“We can consider this a one time thing, free of charge just for one of my closest friends.” She patted his arm in affection. Bodyguard wasn’t her preferred employment direction but she’d make an exception for Blaise. She’d gladly take the attention off of him and onto her instead, already formulating plans to ask back at the paparazzi. Perhaps she could spin this to get information out of them instead.

nottheoretical​:​

“Be nice.” His chiding was automatic. Hardly a thought in Theo’s head as the words were given to the space between them and not (he was rather sure) to Daphne’s ears. “Why were you spending time with Greg?” He was never really sure if this was how one went about existing around their ex. The frequency in which he saw Daphne had lessened. Barely. Slightly. They had still kept up their Puddifoot’s dates, their trips out shopping for her. Theo even found himself still be dragged tagging along when she went to get her nails done. Pansy didn’t seem to mind (not that he had asked and not that she had said) how much time he did spend by Daphne’s side but he supposed she knew choice was not something Theo had a say in.

“It’s just the chimes on the door. There isn’t really a tune.” It was peculiar how she didn’t turn to look at the next twinkling sound that carried over to them, around the crowded nearby tables filled to the brim like they were on any given weekend of high tea at Madame Puddifoot’s tea shop. Slowly, as to not draw all her attention away from her cup and towards him, Theo craned his neck to try to catch sight of the door and the new customer. It was fruitless, his vision blocked by the mass of the carefully coifed curls he was far too aware of exactly how long they took to perfect.

Settling back in his seat, picking up another heart shaped sponge, Theo was once again rendered mute at the shout of Mr. Zabini! His hand reached out to grasp her wrist but there was a reason he had never tried out for the house team. Daphne was gone. The tables near them felt closer, laser focused on the spectacle of shouting occurring between the owner and his companion for the day with a Blaise in between. She had invited him. It wasn’t going to be the newly-employed-for-the-summer-creature-colorist crashing their friendship date but someone Theo had comfortably slotted into the will-deal-with-in-many-many-months-from-now category. 

A half eaten heart, broken and turning into an utter mess, made its way onto his plate and he hurried to brush away the crumbs from his side of the table. He could look busy. He was practiced at avoiding conversations and stares and the like. But slipping out of a tea room crowded with tables and diners and quidditch fans was not an easy task for anyone. Theo hesitated, his arm already outstretched and reaching for his safety book, Collected Artwork by Magenta Comstock filled to the brim with pictures he thought Daphne would have enjoyed, when they reached the table. “Exorcism takes years to master. Ask Blaise to have his godfather mentor her.” was muttered, eyes avoiding meeting anyone’s gaze as he refilled his and Daphne’s cups, instead of a proper greeting.

@bvzabini​

Escape was a fleeting dream, evaporating as quickly as the thought had occurred to him as first Madam Puddifoot and then Daphne seized an arm each, a short-lived game of Tug-o-War playing out largely behind the eyes before Daphne emerged the victor. An apologetic shrug was sent Darling’s way as Daphne strong-armed him towards the tiny table where Theo was still stationed, a book that had appeared from nowhere gripped like a lifeline in his hands and eyes skittering nervously across the table like he’d discovered one of his mysteries in the contents of the sugar bowl.

“Teen exorci—” he started to ask Daphne, openly intrigued, before a chair nudged into the back of his kneecaps from behind and his head turned to find Madam Puddifoot had returned, something manic behind her eyes as she spoke, loudly, “Well, if I’d known this was going to be a party of three I would have insisted on a larger table. You’ll just have to get cozy.”

The chair nudged again, harder, at the back of Blaise’s legs and he set obligingly, blinking rapidly as it scooched forcefully of its own accord in against the table and his knees knocked uncomfortably with both of his friends as he realised just how close this setting put them all. Were Theo and Daphne dating again? Had Theo panicked his way into a backslide already? Was Daphne willing to give him another shot? A soft tut of Darling’s tongue cut off the questions beginning to mount in Blaise’s thoughts as she sighed, “You’ll be needing more tea as well, I suspect. You kids and your modern relationships,” with a sniff she patted Blaise’s shoulder before stalking off towards the counter, presumably for more tea. 

Blaise choked, turning it into a cough behind his hand and lacking a prop to occupy himself with, turned his attention hastily towards Daphne to ask, “Your note sounded urgent, Daph, what was the big emergency?” 

@ofgreengrcss​

Daphne followed the momentum she’d created, not letting anyone think for a moment there was any other option besides going towards the table she and Theo had occupied for the evening. “Oh we don’t mind getting cozy,” Daphne giggled following Blaise as he sat down and Daphne gluing herself to his side. Cozy was actually better it meant more physical contact, all chaperoned of course she was a lady after all, and would hopefully give her more access to launch her plan of somehow getting Blaise to choke on a scone. For the CPR.

“Oh good idea Theo,” she patted Blaise’s arm. “Is Lockhart a teen exorcist? I think Astoria could really use a good mentoring it would look good on future applications when she tries again. Sure being an animal colorist is nice and all but it’s not exactly her calling. Maman and I agreed on it.”

Letting her grip loosen on Blaise’s arm she reached over for the cup of tea she’d been sipping on earlier. Getting Blaise here had been the first step in her plan and she hadn’t really thought how much else she was going to execute this date. Should she be subtle? Forward? Perhaps try and nudge Theo under the table to try and get him to put a plan into place. What was that language people talked about sometimes? Morse Code? Maybe she could try and speak to Theo using it. Both lightly tapping her finger on the table in a random rhythm and trying to stretch out her leg far enough to reach Theo’s foot, Daphne tried to convey her message to her best friend. What she ended up doing was accidentally kicking him several times.

“Oh emergency?” She looked at Theo tapping her finger and accidentally kicking something again. Meanwhile a woodsy, very…delicious…cologne wafted up towards her. It seemed to jog a memory but she ignored it. “I needed your opinion on some dress robes, of course Theo always gives amazing advice but I thought perhaps we should get a third opinion. We both know each other too well and it’s making the opinions less creative.”

“Just inform them the thief is here. Without me.” His harsh attitude at being pulled and caused to spill fading at the appearance of another drink in his hand. “I shouldn’t have let them get away from you.” His shirt may not show a stain but it still smelled of champagne that he had already been told to cut back on. It didn’t stop him from drinking from his fresh glass. The mythical stapler thief was important to Daphne, fictional or not, and he could have been more supportive to her plight. Even if supportive may have involved running through a thickening crowd. “All better.”

It was not all better. Theo raised an eyebrow, the biggest change in mood he could show and murmured a “I don’t think…shouldn’t bother them.” He didn’t know what Pansy’s plans were for the night but he had made his own position clear. She and Blaise could do whatever they wanted as long as they both kept him out of it. “I’ll find her before I leave. It’s fine.” 

Comprehension dawning slowly, Theo took another, a smaller, sip. Daphne wasn’t pushing. She wasn’t demanding or imposing her will, dragging him here and there to do whatever she wanted. “Why do you want to leave?” There was a flash of pink, a sparkling he couldn’t overlook or ignore that caused him to look away from his ex and stare, follow its path left and right clear to the other side of the room. Had she been telling the truth the whole time? Grabbing her hand, Theo backtracked until they were against the wall. “Do you want to get your stapler back?”

Daphne let out a shrug, doing her best to wipe the observation from her mind. The longer she thought about it the stronger urge she’d have to pull Theo into the crowd and launch themselves at anyone who even had a flash of pink in their hands. She wasn’t very good at self control and it was taking a whole lot of it to try and steer them towards what Theo would rather be doing this night.

“Always amazes me how you can do that in the crowd, swear it takes me half an event to find any one of you,” she observed, her mind completely rolling over the fact that her friends purposely avoided her most of the time. They were usually only fun after a few drinks anyways, and Daphne was oblivious enough not to notice them specifically hiding from her. What possible reason could any of them have for not wanting to be in her presence? She was fun, and well liked and had absolutely zero faults of her own.

@ofgreengrcss​  /  daphne’s home

Draco doesn’t bother waiting for an invitation before seeking out Daphne in her own home. Some might consider that rude, but Draco considered it his right as Daphne’s friend and ( apparent ) ex-boyfriend. They’d known each other far too long for such politeness; besides, he figured she owed him her time for the… disastrous birthday party she held for him. 

( Not that it wasn’t all fun – he could still remember kissing Blaise’s entire Quidditch team in a game of spin the bottle. Draco could forgive her a bit for that alone. )

He walked into her home like he owned it himself, barely having to spend time searching for her until he found Daphne in her room. Maybe he should have knocked, but Draco was there on urgent business. She’d forgive him, he was sure. 

“Daphne, I need your assistance. Tell me: when was the last time you visited Nott Hall?”

It was a surprise when Draco suddenly pushed through her door into her room mostly because Daphne had only dreamed of her friends dropping in unexpectedly to hang out. They were keyed into all the wards Theo had put up once he’d heard that Daphne had very little protection she’d put in place, but they hardly every came seeking for her. Maybe when she was late to a gathering they’d agreed on or sometimes when they didn’t want to go home to their parents, but hardly ever with their own plan for fun. 

And it sounded like Draco might have one.

“I can’t say I have in years, you know how Theo likes to avoid that place,” she responded throwing the Gucci sunglasses she’d taken off Cupcake’s face across the room and reaching for a different pair from the pile stacked next to her on the floor. Maybe some Burberry would suit Cupcake more? They were quite a sophisticated pygmy puff. 

nottheoretical​:

ᵑ

Theodore was far too busy indulging in the Victoria’s sponge hearts with an orange twist and homemade raspberry jam to respond verbally but he was able to raise an eyebrow as he chewed. Of all the things Daphne insisted on (both during and) after they had broken up, Puddifoot days were his favorites. It was just them, surrounded by couples and families (never coming on weekends and being bombarded by students), and none of their friends, giving Theo the opportunity to relax without fear of being teased or taunted. 

“How high up did he get? Seven? Five?” He liked Gregory, more so than Vincent, but his lack of intelligence was a known fact. Though Daphne mocking someone’s ability to count did bring a smile to his face that Theodore hid behind his cup of vanilla rooibos. “Are you okay?” That had to be the third or fourth time she had looked toward the door. “Did you invite Astoria? I thought Puddifoot was our thing.”

@bvzabini​

Time was slipping away, a snowball effect of last minute paperwork to be signed and affairs to be settled and godfather’s to be talked down from their histrionics that Blaise could almost, almost, pretend that amidst the avalanche of change that his life was undergoing, the indiscretion after their graduation party was only a blip on the radar. There were so very many things to do be done, friends and places to say goodbye to, that it could be packaged neatly up and pushed to the back of his mind to be not analysed at a later date. It was easy to focus instead on the strange swell of nostalgia that washed over him as he stared around the sleepy main street of Hogsmeade for what would be the last time in who knew long, at Honeydukes and Zonkos and the cobbled streets that led to The Three Broomsticks and the post office. He almost thought he’d miss the place.

Maybe that’s why Daphne’s note had been so vague.

Puddifoots stood out even amidst the brightly coloured facades of Main Street, the bells chiming merrily over his head as he slipped inside, marvelling over how different Hogsmeade was during the summer without a sea of Hogwarts students crowding the streets. Messages from Daphne were rarely informative, but a glimpse of her hair from the corner of his eye proved he’d gotten this one at least partially right as he hastily swerved the eponymous Madam Puddifoot before she could catch him (there were always questions as to when his godfather would next be visiting) to hasten towards the table Daphne was perched at and stopped short, abruptly as the sight of Theo emerged from the eclipse of Daphne’s hair. Maybe they hadn’t seen him. Maybe they hadn’t seen him and he could still get out of there without—

“Mr. Zabini!” Darling chirped loudly from behind him, a vibrant pink manicure curling around his arm as Madam Puddifoot ensnared her prey and heads from other tables began to turn, “What a surprise! Is Gilderoy going to be joining you today?”

@ofgreengrcss​

“He got to four the first try, six the next. I think he’s improving though still an idiot.” If there was someone she hated the most it was probably Gregory Goyle. Sure he was friends with Draco, even liked well enough by him, but he was still an idiot and even the sight of him angered her. Daphne would take hanging out with Millie for an afternoon rather than ever seeing him again. Good thing she didn’t have to anymore considering they graduated, though Sunday’s encounter with him had just reinforced how small the wixen community truly was.

Another jingle and Daphne looked over, quickly glancing back when it again wasn’t Blaise. “Oh I’m fine, I just like the sound of the tune. I didn’t invite Astoria,” she waved away Theo’s concern, guiltily picking up her cup of tea and sipping on it. He wouldn’t mind if Blaise tagged along just for today would he? It was just a one time thing and it wasn’t as if they were spilling deep dark secrets today. She’d saved those conversations for next time. They were all friends! Even if Daphne had planned this all to get back together with her ex for the day. She really wanted that CPR kiss, had even practiced all night to make sure it went perfectly! 

Too enraptured in their profound conversation, Daphne didn’t hear the door open again, only bolting out of her seat at the sound of a Mr. Zabini! In a second she was by his side, tugging his arm from Puddifoot’s grasp and trying to edge the elder woman out of the conversation she was about to start. Puddifoot wouldn’t ban her for this right? Daphne was one of her best customers. “Sorry Madam I’m afraid I invited him today. Mr. Lockhart is otherwise occupied for the afternoon.” Daphne tugged him towards the table she’d left Theo at. “I’m so glad you could make it, Theo and I were just talking about Astoria’s new career. She’s been hired as an animal colorist, they unfortunately wouldn’t let her become a teen exorcist. I thought she would have been a great one.”

where: madam puddifoot's tea shop

when: some unknown date so that blaise will never know he dated daphne pt. 2

Daphne and Theo sat at their usual table at Madam Puddifoot’s, a weekly tradition of theirs that Daphne had started to make sure The was updated on her life. She expected he was on the edge of his seat each week wondering what she was doing in the three days that they didn’t see each other. It was a long three days, ones where only the most important things occurred since the universe seemed to know they weren’t her Theo hang out days. “I watched Goyle try and count to ten on Sunday,” she huffed, using her finger to spin the small spoon around her teacup. “It was quite sad. Merlin knows how someone as dumb as him managed to graduate.”

The bell above the door tinkled and Daphne jumped to look at who it was for the fifth time that evening, deflating again when she didn’t recognize the couple at the door. She was sure she’d told Blaise the correct time (she hadn’t) and was a bit on edge with the twenty minutes that had already passed in the shop. She focused her attention back on the menu, glancing over the squiggles to look at the pictures instead. “Oh yeah, Astoria started a new job as well. I think she’s very happy with it.”

With the force of Daphne’s pulling the glass in Theodore’s hand tipped, spilling over mostly himself and slightly on her. He wanted to stop her, complain about the fictitious Stapler Thief he had spent what felt like a lifetime hearing about but never believing in, but she was far too quick and he had no desire to create an even bigger scene for the parting crowd. Instead, he sighed and reached out to grab a napkin from a nearby table but was yanked onwards just as his fingertips touched cloth.

“Daphne.” His voice low, quiet and in no way carrying over the tone of the room, did little to halt her. He tried again, another soft call of Daph that led to the same result. The familiar sense of hopelessness in the face of Daphne’s inherent need to force him whichever way suited her fancy set in. On another night, he’d allow it. He’d grumble and sigh and spell his shirt clean but he’d follow her round and round the room until she got herself dizzy. Tonight, he was too tired to find searching a quality way to spend the night. 

Placing a hand on her shoulder to slow her (and hopefully finally grab her attention), Theodore managed to wiggle his wrist out of her hold. “Enough. Please.” A heavy sigh he was sure he had already sent her way was released and Theo looked up towards the vaulted starry ceilings for some guidance on how to manage a Daphne branded ridiculous situation. “We’ve spoken about this.” Many times. Though trying to remember what they had said on the subject of staplers and thievery was proving difficult. “You’ve spoken to the Aurors. You need to…It’s their job. We don’t need to run and my shirt is–” Cutting himself off, he pulled out his wand and sent a basic cleaning spell onto his clothes. “I don’t see anyone.”

Daphne was on a mission, tugging Theo along a few steps as she tried to catch a glimpse of the pink sparkle again. While usually she’d dive head first into the crowd, moving without a plan this time she took the effort to stop herself. She didn’t want to get the two of them stuck in the middle of the group having to pleasantly work their way out again. Then she’d never have a decent conversation with Theo much less convince him to dance with her! Every event was carefully planned around how Daphne could get her best friend on the dance floor with her. It had about a 40% success rate.

Much higher than the one that Theo had for the amount of successful times he’d grabbed her attention. But again she was making an effort, trying to be more in tune with his feelings after the rough few weeks he’d been going through. She’d thought her efforts were working. “They’re not very good at their jobs if they can’t catch a thief. I thought I had my chance now but–” she looked at the crowd once again, the sparkle not returning to her eyes. “they must have escaped. Here I’ll get you another drink don’t worry.”

“Is she after your head too now?” Was perhaps the least reassuring sentence he could have offered, but Blaise nudged his shoulder lightly into Daphne’s to assure her he was kidding (mostly — one never really knew what Millicent was thinking, even when they’d been sleeping on her couch for a week) and emptied his champagne glass into the fountain, dropping the glass in after it as an afterthought. Even Millicent’s boxed wine supply outclassed whatever that had been. “You’ve just got to tell her you can see her mother and she’ll make a run for it in the other direction.”

Daphne forged on ahead, as she usually did, diverging off on a tangent about the water and the state of his shirt (which, he supposed, was a solid point) and he was digging into the pockets of the suit jacket draped over his knee for his wand, before it occurred to him that he hadn’t even greeted her. “I’ve missed you,” was about as sentimental as a Zabini got, followed by a kiss on the cheek before he hooked his arm through hers, elbows locked to ensure if one of them made an unfortunate dip into the fountain, both of them would. Producing his wand triumphantly he cast a swift impervius charm, first on his shirt and then as an afterthought on Daphne’s robes for good measure. “I wouldn’t count on Theo for dancing tonight, I think he’s still in a mood. But I’ll dance with you as many times as you want if you promise to help me hide from that Daily Prophet reporter — that one that Pansy likes.”

The telltale pop of a flash bulb flared in the corner of his eyes and the shutter of a camera going off drew a wry twist to his lips. “This is a terrible hiding place. Why did you pick it again?”

“Better not be, I spent hours on my hair this morning,” Daphne responded. Millie collecting heads was perhaps the thing Daphne hated the least about her, but she would not fail to report her if Daphne ever got the hint Millie was after her own. It made sense, Daphne was adorable, and she had a very nice head but that was all the more reason why Millie couldn’t have it. She could have Goyle or Crabbe’s, they probably matched Millie’s collection better. “That would require me talking to her. I’d rather not.”

Now that she had Blaise for company her desire to spend time with Millie had diminished again. And so she snuggled up to Blaise, giggling as he took the innovative to cast some protective spells on the two. Always the gentleman as she was perpetually lecturing Theo, he could really take some notes. Even if they were fake fiance’s Daphne assumed Pansy would appreciate Theo having improved manners and they’d certainly be welcomed at Theo and Daphne’s reoccurring get togethers. She was glad Blaise was back, he’d be a good influence on the group. Daphne wouldn’t be so outnumbered in convincing everyone to have a little fun sometimes. “Well I could never turn down that offer. Here, just hide behind my hair. It should be big enough to block the camera. I’ve got you don’t worry.”

He had tuned back in, or tried to tune back in, as his gaze left the pair on the other side of the atrium to look towards Daphne. “Do you think she doesn’t remember your name because you call her boring?” Millicent and Daphne’s strange approach to friendship had never been his cup of tea and he was tired of hearing about problems that were easily solvable. “If you don’t like her, don’t let her over.” His ex-girlfriend had no issue being overbearing and getting her way with him, why was Millie any different?

Theo shrugged, looking back out towards the interesting two in the crowd and finding himself thankful Draco wasn’t lurking nearby. He hadn’t intended to lie to Daphne, pass his own folly off as a purposeful action on Draco’s part, but the words had left him before he had processed what he was saying. It was best to get his side of the story out before a Malfoy pension for dramatics did anyhow.

The slow, lethargic exhaustion Theo had come accustomed to at events like this taking over. He yawned, hiding his expression behind his glass. And nearly spilling it all over himself and Daphne as he was tugged to his feet. “…No? I was enjoying sitting down, Daph.” 

If anything that should be a reason why Millie would remember her name, but she wasn’t about to point this out to Theo. That would only mean that Millie would be the topic of their conversation for much longer than Daphne desired and she was already ready to move on from that. Pansy would hear her out later, or perhaps Astoria could be used as someone to vent to. He sister was always good at listening to her. “She just shows up sometimes,” she shrugged, letting the conversation finally drop.

She had bigger things to worry about, like the glimpse of what she now had fully convinced herself was a pink stapler.  “Well you just missed someone in the crowd running off with one of my staplers! He’s here Theo. The Stapler Thief!” She tugged at him again, this time launching the two of them towards the crowd without a moments notice. Time was of the essence and this was a chance to finally see who had been terrorizing her for the past few years. 

who: @ofgreengrcss where: ministry atrium when: 21st june, 2004

Millicent genuinely tried to step out of her comfort zone; a Ministry event like this was not unlike other galas and parties she’d attended before, and her behavior thus far had not been unusual for these large gatherings. Spending a majority of her time at the punch table, making tedious small talk with coworkers, going out of her way to speak to the people who might appoint her to Head Obliviator as soon as old Bailey kicked the bucket (it also didn’t hurt getting on these Ministry officials’ good sides, in the event that an even higher up position became available). She tried to schmooze during these occasions; tonight should have been no different.

But one Daphne Greengrass had other plans.  She’d only just sidled into a conversation with one of the Hit Wizards, had barely greeted him before she felt a sharp tug at her elbow. Without turning around, Millicent lifted a finger to whoever was at her side to signal that she needed just a moment. The next tug was more of a yank, indignant and forceful, leaving her no other choice but to whip around with a dark glower upon her face. When she saw bushy curls and a very pointed gaze, however, she recoiled immediately, ripping her arm out of Daphne’s grasp as though she’d had hot metal put to her skin unexpectedly. “What the–“ An expression of incredulity, “Daphne, what the fuck?” 

This was not right. Daphne should absolutely not have been tugging at her arm, much less seeking her out for– for what? “What do you want?” The question came out more abrasively bewildered than accusatory; a tad rude, but she really didn’t need the victim of her many obliviating spells to come any closer than was absolutely necessary. 

Daphne had already made her rounds, politely chatting with friends of her parents and moving through the officials she usually saw as Rodulphus’ secretary. They were a boring bunch, but she couldn’t quite blame them for it. Anyone exciting would surely be banished from her boss’ sight in an instant, it was almost a miracle that she hadn’t been yet. He must really like her and Daphne supposed she could appreciate that. However she would not get stuck trying to converse with that crowd for the whole night and her frustration of not finding her friends anywhere in sight was starting to naw at her. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Spotting a familiar face, Daphne made a beeline for Millie seeing a particularly boring Hit Wizard starting a conversation. Frankly Daphne was saving the poor girl, doing her a favor. She’d be much better company than whoever this was. And after two yanks she had Millie’s attention.

“I can’t find the others,” she rolled her eyes, not bothering to acknowledge the wixen Millie had just been speaking to. In her eyes they were unimportant at the moment. “bet they’re taking a smoke break. Come with me to the drink table I think Cornfoot had been tailing me for the past five minutes and I’m not about to get into another conversation about which quill writes the best. It’s obviously a peacock feather with an extra fine nib.”

Champagne had been exchanged for elf-wine as Theodore stayed chained to Daphne’s side on one of the many narrow benches lining the atrium. “You never give her a chance.” It was a stock statement. One Theo had made many times. He was only half listening to her babble, years of being forced by her side lending the knowledge of when he had to contribute to the conversation as his eyes scanned the crowd for Pansy who could be the only one to save him if she was feeling charitable enough. After a night of him implying she had taken up poisoning as a hobby, her affinity for charity may have run dry. 

Still, he let her trap him on the bench for now, sipping as he finally caught sight of his target. Who was unfortunately in discussion with a certain Italian he had been successfully avoiding all night. “Gibson. Right.” He really hoped they were talking about anything but where he had slipped off to. He’d been good for this event, sticking by Pansy’s side for far longer than he normally did. Though her grip had been as vice like as Daphne’s was now so there wasn’t much choice in the matter. “Hm? Oh, Draco lit a tapestry on fire. I think.”

Listening to her rambling rants had never been an important aspect in Daphne and Theo’s relationship. The fact that he wasn’t listening wasn’t anything new and wasn’t something that she really ever noticed. Her squeals usually alerted to when something she wanted comments on happened , and Theo was good at convincing her he enjoyed her company. “She doesn’t even remember my name half the time, and it’s not like we don’t hang out! Sometimes she pops by my flat and only ever talks about things so boring I forget them instantly,” she huffed.

“Now why would he do that?” she switched, sitting up a little straighter. That seemed a bit odd but at least Draco was doing something that wasn’t boring with his time. She’d expected him to say hi, make a big donation and then leave. Perhaps St. Mungo’s hadn’t taken his donation? The answer to this mystery didn’t really matter because as another pink sparkle caught her eye, she whipped her head around seeing a pink stapler shaped object in someone’s hand disappearing into the crowd. 

where: st. mungo’s annual fundraiser

when: 21 june, 2004

It had come to that time of the night where Daphne found Theo, usually in a corner somewhere or next to Pansy, and tried to convince him to do whatever activity would relieve her of her boredom. Sometimes that was begging him to dance until he found some other way to distract her, but most of the time it meant chatting his ear off. “I can’t believe I had to go and try and speak to Millie for fun,” she complained, making a face of disgust. “Like she’s alright, but was very rude to me when I saved her from her boring conversation. Really no appreciation for the kindness I show her.”

She slid her arm through Theo’s and settled into the tight grip she usually took to make sure they were glued to her side. It made it easier to whisper to them, Daphne already making a comment about the neon green robes of a wixen nearby before continuing. “She didn’t look happy to see me either. Well good thing I spotted the secretaries a little bit after. They told me all about what Gibson did and that cheered me up. How has your night been?”

WHO: OPEN​ WHERE: St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries Annual Fundraiser, The Atrium, Ministry of Magic. WHEN: 21st June 2004

Another pop, followed by the flash of a camera bulb and the smile affixed to Blaise’s face was tossed away, replaced with a disappointing sip from his wineglass as ghostlights streaked through his vision like comets and the hum of the crowd swelled around him. He’d fulfilled his duties for the club and then some tonight; indulged reporters with broad shark smiles and shaken hands with donors and fans and invested parties under the lenses of the small fleet of photographers navigating the room, (Puddlemere’s legacy of philanthropic ties with St. Mungo’s were a key aspect of their branding identity, or so he’d heard), but British wixen society was predictable and dull (with few notable exceptions) and the champagne tasted cheap. 

Blaise needed an exit strategy.

The soft plunk of another coin being tossed into the fountain close-by caught his attention and he slipped through the grasp of an Ellerby or a Spudmore with a distracted, “Le chiedo perdono,” as he slipped away into the crowd, circling the fountain to settle upon a ledge in the shadow of the towering golden centaur, champagne flute balanced in one hand and fingers itching for a cigarette he knew he couldn’t have. Mist was spilling off the water’s surface, settling in a film across the expensive fabric of his shirt and in his hair, but beyond that the vaulted ceilings shifted and glowed in gold, an ever-changing constellation of runes in the place of stars. 

Leaning back to trace half-remembered runes across the surface of the water he grimaced in annoyance, flicking beads of water from his fingers to dispel the reflection of the person who’d just settled down next to him. “This hiding place is taken, find your own.”

Daphne rolled her eyes, settling into her place and leaning against Blaise. “No thank you, I’m hiding from Millie.” An ironic statement considering the fact that she’d uncharacteristically searched her out only earlier in the night. In Daphne’s defense she hadn’t spotted any of her actual friends about, no doubt them all already hiding from the general public in their respected corners. Draco was exceptionally good at that and Pansy and Theo had the advantage of being a team to scout out places together. It was no surprise that the first friend she happened upon in the night was Blaise.

Grateful that it was in fact, since she’d dearly missed him in his absence. He was certainly the most fun friend besides herself and while he may be recovering from all the socialites he’d just spoken to Daphne knew that he’d be down to help her track down the rest of the group later. “So hows playing in the water? I’d join in but it might ruin my robes for the night. Vintage from my mother,” she trailed on, “You should probably put a spell on that shirt to make sure it still looks nice for the photographers when you step out. Can skip the hair, they’ll love the wet hair look.” 

☀

“Hey!” Cho smiles, both happy and relieved to see Daphne in the streets of Diagon Alley. It’s been a while since she’s seen her and it’s always nice to meet a friend in times of need. Or in Cho’s case, in times of carrying a heavy cauldron around town. “Honestly I would love to know a beauty spell or two. Let me in on your skincare secrets.” she chuckles. Daphne has the perfect skin, the type that glows under streetlights and neon lights. Cho’s a little envious of it. 

“But right now I kind of need Transfiguration or Charms help more,” she motions to the cauldron, frowning slightly at it, “It’s the cauldron and it’s supposed to be simple.” The simplest spells are always the ones which elude Cho the most. She barely ever reaches for them, preferring to do household chores and menial tasks the Muggle way. As a result, they’re the spells she has to fight hardest to remember.

“The cauldron’s too heavy to carry and I’ve forgotten how to make it smaller. Help me, will you?”

“Oh I’ve got tons of them, mostly for my hair. As for skincare Theo gets me products from his stepmother and I also see Hestia from time to time. Lots of experimenting with beauty potions, have yet to nail down a routine.” Her mother had tried teacher her hers once Daphne had gotten old enough to stop playing in Mrs. Greengrass’ beauty pots and start trying to study them seriously. Daphne had often found that she preferred a simpler routine, and only used one cream religiously while using the rest based on whim. While she took her appearance seriously she hated tedious things, it had worked out for her so far.

Daphne lifted her attention away from the beautiful girl and focused instead on the cauldron. A shrinking charm was thankfully one of 16 spells that Daphne could list off the top of her head even though it got less use than the engorgement charm. Still she had shrank enough things to put in her purse to feel fairly confident that she could do this.