Power Plays Chapter 67 (Patreon)

It wasn’t the pecking noise of the owl outside of the window that woke her up. It wasn’t the screams coming from out in the corridor. It wasn’t the fact that the door to Astoria’s room immediately sealed shut with an iron-wrought gate. It wasn’t the otter-shaped Patronus that entered through the wall.

It was something more primal that dropped Daphne to her knees. Her midsection went weak, and she cried out in pain in time with her sister.

Draco was distracted enough with Astoria. Whatever concern he had for her left him within a quarter of a second after hearing Astoria cry out. Daphne couldn’t blame him for that.

In the panic that swept across the floor, Andromeda directed a single healer to Daphne’s side as she hurriedly worked to ensure the safety of Astoria and her baby. Daphne was cringing upon the floor, feeling pain that she’d never felt before sweep through her entire body.

Something was wrong.

Something was utterly wrong.

And Daphne didn’t know what it was.

It was the lack of knowledge that hurt the most. She didn’t know if it was some lingering curse, a subtle attack upon her body through the crack beneath the doorway into the hospital room, or some insidious ritual that went beyond her understanding of the limits of magic. Regardless, the effects struck her deeply, and she couldn’t help but let out signs of her distress through the way that her voice broke, the tears that fled from her eyes, and how her body curled up in pain.

Even when the Carrow siblings had ruled Hogwarts and dealt out the Cruciatus Curse like it was some simple first-year charm to test upon any who defied them, Daphne had never undergone such pain. It felt as though her very being was trying to rip away from her physical form.

“She’s seizing!” Someone shouted loudly, but Daphne barely registered the words.

As her body flung itself wildly upon the floor, several figures descended around her. Their faces looked like blurs, and she tried to buck them off of her even as they screamed incomprehensible words to her.

Then, everything went dark.

Time became little more than an idea as darkness swirled around her mind. She captured glimpses of outlines of strange figures and the beating of tiny wings amid the gloom that surrounded everything about her.

The darkness seemed all encompassing in the time that followed. No matter what direction she looked, Daphne could see nothing more than blackness and hazy shadows coming in and out of view. Occasionally, something more concrete would form, but it was still far away from a solid object that she could recognise. The shape came out of the distant fog and slowly grew in size until engulfed all of Daphne’s vision. Then, it faded back to something that seemed more befitting, even though Daphne still failed to recognise anything that she saw. The shapes changed before she could truly imagine them within her mind, and then something drew her attention and disrupted her focus entirely.

What was it that danced at the periphery like this?

Why couldn’t she remember? What was going on? Did she fall asleep? Was this death? What had happened? What was that in the distance? Was someone dancing? No, that wasn’t a person. Was it smoke? There was no fire. Was it mist? It hadn’t rained in days. What was that shape? A rectangle? She remembered rectangles. The long table in her family’s dining room. The bar of chocolate her mother always gave her on her birthday. The tall tree trunks out back behind the manor.

Something soothing washed over her, but it was undercut with the sensation that everything was utterly wrong.

Why was she here in the formless darkness? Why were so many things coming to her mind and yet lingering for only moments before they became something else? What was she looking for? Was she supposed to remember something?

The shapes began to change into something more recognisable. They looked like heads eclipsed with the sun behind them. She couldn’t make out anything but the outline of the heads, but it was enough to soothe her racing heart.

Daphne moaned out something that she couldn’t repeat even if she tried. Her words turned into bubbles as she submerged beneath a heavy ocean that she couldn’t seem to surface upon.

Her limbs flailed blindly.

Her vision darkened.

She opened her mouth and felt only icy-cold liquid rushing down her throat.

Someone cried.

The world spun around her, but she was trapped in utter darkness.

She sank deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Her body struck something.

The floor?

It shifted beneath her.

Everything spun again, and Daphne had no energy left to give to try to fight what was happening.

Her body was utterly flaccid as it spun around wildly. Up and down had no context within the oblivion she found herself in. The world felt like a thick syrup that surrounded her, and there was no end to it.

Then, something came to her ears.

It sounded like music.

It sounded like a rhythm.

It sounded like words.

The sound became more familiar over time. It continuously repeated even as Daphne failed to begin to identify what it could be. Even when the sound became clear within her mind, she still struggled to identify it.

The sound tormented her. It rang like a bell in her ears constantly, filling every inch of imperceptible space around her being. Everything about her flinched at the sound and the nothingness that surrounded her. Something within her pulsed, and a visible wave of ethereal light filled the air around her.

The sound stopped.

The darkness became all there was once again. Daphne lingered there in limbo until a faint pinprick of light formed in the distance.

Daphne fixated upon that tiny ball of light within the void of nothingness. Her form began to slowly move towards it, and the light grew a fraction bigger. That was enough for her. In time, the progress seemed magnanimous given all that she’d been through. As challenging as it was to remained focused on something other than the darkness, no complaints escaped her lips as the light grew and grew until it was almost obscuring her vision entirely.

And then she awoke.

It came as a startling sensation. She sat straight up in a comfortable bed, clutching the bed sheet to her chest as she sucked in breath after breath.

The room around her resembled something out of a nightmare. White walls and sterile seating surrounded her while clipboards with scraps of parchment hung upon the walls beside the doorway out of this prison.

Daphne threw herself out of the bed, barely recognising the sensation of striking the floor, before crawling towards the doorway.

It was too late for her to realise that the doorknob was far above her reach.

She tried to sit up, but her core muscles gave out before her legs did. She fell face first against the tile floor and cried out at the indignity of it all.

Then, the door opened.

“Oh, Daphne,” a soft, familiar voice spoke. “We need to get you back to bed. You can’t be up now.”

“’Av too,” Daphne somehow managed to get out. Her lips felt like unfamiliar beings upon her base—too bloated to be real and yet so attached that she couldn’t imagine being without them. She clawed at her face, feeling every bit of skin like it was somehow brand new.

“No, no,” the voice spoke again. “You need to rest. After everything—”

The voice hitched, and Daphne was stunned for a moment. Why did that sound hurt her so badly?

Arms picked her up and lifted her into her bed. She didn’t fight back against any of it.

A cold liquid spilt across her lips. Something tilted her head further back, and then the liquid spilt down her throat instead.

The world spun around her.

And then the darkness returned.

It wasn’t a comfort to see such familiar sights once again, but things were different now. Daphne felt much more aware of her limbs and the pain that came with existing.

Everything hurt, even as she willed it not to. Her limbs ached as though they’d been stretched out beyond physical reality. Her bones ached as though they’d been battered a hundred times over by blunt sticks. Even her face ached, though the pain was less obvious here. Her muscles felt stretched, as though her lips had been stretched wide into a sob, and her brow stung like it’d been torn asunder. Her eyes were the worst of it all. They felt completely dry and lifeless, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to open them.

But that pain felt like nothing compared to what ached within her chest.

It felt as though something had been ripped from her body and thrown into the dirt like a worthless trinket.

Daphne couldn’t describe it. She felt whole, and nothing was missing from her, but something had still escaped from her reality. It was a messy tear or a vicious rupture from what she had known to be true.

The sensation was worse than a missing limb. Worse than a deep-seated curse that would plague her for years to come. Worse than the destruction of her own psyche.

This was the utter loss of something that went beyond her physical reality.

This was the loss of life itself.

In the darkness, Daphne sobbed alone. Tears spilt and yet none reached her cheeks. They faded from existence the moment they escaped beyond her eyelids.

It felt as though she could have filled an ocean with the tears that left her.

And then that light returned.

Spite filled her body as the light began to grow. How dare it return to her? What had it brought besides pain and agony?

Daphne spat and cursed at the light as it grew. Her limbs felt like they were caught in jelly as she tried to hurl them against the growing light. None of her efforts materialised in anything more than her own frustrations.

As the light became all encompassing, Daphne hurled herself into it, only to find her body blocked by something else.

“Ahhh!” Someone cried out.

Voices swirled around her once more, and it felt like something was restricting her. The light was slowly retreating from her vision.

“Fuck you!” Daphne screamed at the top of her lungs, surprised that her voice even came. She’d only occasionally tried to speak since she’d entered this void, and it hadn’t worked yet.

The light came to a sudden stop, neither growing or diminishing in her view.

“Fuck you!” Daphne screamed even louder. “Let me out of here! I can’t stand it anymore! Stop this, or I’ll—”

Her voice hitched as something overcame her. It felt like soft cotton was draped across her mouth, absorbing every sound that she emitted.

No matter how Daphne thrashed about or what she attempted to say, her body remained utterly still for what felt like days. She could feel her body begin to take action, but then it frustratingly regressed into its previous state. It felt like she was caught in a dream.

That was it!

She was dreaming!

The darkness, the light, all of it was a dream!

She could escape from it!

Wake up!

That wasn’t enough.

Daphne screamed it aloud.

It wasn’t enough.

Daphne pushed the idea through her entire body. Her voice, her limbs, her heart. They all sang to be released from this dark torment.

The world throbbed in retaliation. Daphne felt like she was going to be sick.

Suddenly, something beyond her cognition seemed to move. Something shifted, and the darkness spun around her.

“Daphne?” A voice faintly called out.

She couldn’t make out what it said. She was too busy vomiting up everything in existence.

“Daphne? Are you okay?”

No, she wasn’t bloody okay.

She threw up again.

“I’m here. We’re here. It’s okay.”

The voice felt soothing somehow. Daphne didn’t understand it. The darkness around her was modulating everything that affected her body’s senses. There had to be some way of…

Something inside of her tore, and then it felt like a gust of wind was threatening to send her spiralling backwards.

A distant light grew rapidly.

“Daphne? Daphne? Daphne!”

Her eyes blinked open, puffy and swollen. It felt like she’d been crying.

Around her stood half a dozen healers in crisp white robes with Andromeda standing at the foot of her bed, carefully training the tip of her wand at Daphne. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that escaped was a dry croak.

“Get her some water,” Andromeda said carefully, still keeping her wand perfectly steady.

A straw was placed on her cracked lips. Daphne managed to sip some down before a coughing fit wracked her body. The entire room flinched as soon as she doubled over at the waist. They didn’t relax even when Daphne leaned back onto the fluffed pillows behind her head.

“She seems to be fine now,” a familiar voice spoke up from behind the group.

A few healers parted to allow Draco to step forward. He gave her a weak smile as he reached down to take her hand. “You gave us quite a scare. Your magic has been very volatile.”

“My magic?” Daphne repeated in confusion, but no one responded to her.

Draco grimaced as he turned to Andromeda. “Could we have the room? There’s someone that Daphne should meet first.”

“I’m not certain that’s wise,” Andromeda replied.

“The room is warded to hell and back,” Draco pointed out. “If anything happens again, we’ll be able to get out first.”

Andromeda took a deep breath and stowed her wand. “Five minutes at the most.”

“Thank you,” Draco said sincerely. “Could you send Astoria in too?”

Andromeda nodded and gestured at the rest of the healers. They all left the room, glancing back at Daphne like she was a violent animal waiting for a chance to strike. Only once all of them were out of the room did Astoria come in carrying a small bundle in her arms.

“Daphne,” Astoria said so softly. Her eyes welled up with tears as she hurried over to the bedside. “This is Scorpius, your nephew,” Astoria said gently as she passed over the baby in her arms.

Scorpius was so wrapped up that Daphne nearly missed spotting his face. She pulled back the fabric slightly to reveal his chubby cheeks and awkward chin that made him look terribly adorable. Scorpius was a Malfoy-family name, but she knew that Astoria wouldn’t have approved it unless she truly felt it was right for her and Draco.

“He’s beautiful,” Daphne told her sister. “I can’t believe I missed your birth. What happened?”

Astoria suddenly went rigid, and Draco took Scorpius from Daphne’s arms.

“A lot happened,” Draco told her as Astoria withered back into her seat.

Daphne didn’t understand. She tried to sit up, but her body was too weak for that. She was relegated to using the pillows behind her head for leverage to get a better look at Astoria and Draco.

“What do you mean?” Daphne asked innocently.

Astoria burst out into a sob. She covered her mouth as tears rapidly began falling from her eyes. Her other hand came up to block them, but it wasn’t enough for her.

Leaping from her chair, Astoria charged out of the room with a wail.

Daphne was left utterly confused as she stared into Draco’s uncharacteristically vacant face. He was staring down at his son as he gently bobbed him in his arms. The peaceful look was utterly destroyed by the painful look that crossed Draco’s face.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he rocked Scorpius gently before he could start crying too at his mother’s departure. “Things have been a mess here and at the Ministry. It sort of feels like the world’s been frozen still these past couple of days. They haven’t been letting many people in here.”

“Did Harry and Delphini come here to see Scorpius?” Daphne asked as she relaxed back into the pillows behind her.

An awkward look crossed Draco’s face. “Delphini’s still at your home,” he told her.

“Oh? But she was so excited to see Astoria’s baby,” Daphne replied.

“She already saw Scorpius,” Draco said as he shifted in his seat. “I… took him over to let her meet him yesterday.”

“That’s nice,” Daphne said. The darkness was beginning to return again. “I hope she wasn’t too much to deal with. Harry said that he’d try to keep her under control for me. Was he…”

The words faded from her tongue before she could finish her sentence. Something felt wrong. And then the words vanished from her mind.

Daphne opened and closed her mouth several times over the next few seconds, trying to say something that she couldn’t even remember anymore.

Draco looked at her with pity.

“Harry wasn’t there,” he told her bluntly.

“Did something at the Auror Department call him away?” Daphne asked faintly as the world began to blur around her.

“No,” Draco shook his head sadly. “Harry… he… there was an explosion.”

“An explosion?” Daphne repeated, still not understanding the significance of Draco’s words. “Where?”

“At Aurora Calderon’s flat,” Draco answered solemnly. “She died in the blast. And Harry…”

“Yeah?” Daphne muttered as the world swam around her.

“He died too.”

“Oh,” Daphne said.

Did he arrest her? Daphne tried to ask, but the words never went past her mind. She tried to say them again, but they disappeared faster than the million questions that were trying to surface to the forefront of her mind.

“Is he dead?”

“Yes,” Draco said sombrely. “Harry is dead.”