Light in the Darkness

Chapter Three

"Not saying hello to our hosts. It looks bad."

"Yes, because I'm sure their whole night was planned around the greeting of Astoria Greengrass."

"You know what I mean," Daphne whispered, patience already wearing thin.

But before the discussion could develop any further, Theodore Nott, a most disagreeable looking boy, was standing across from Daphne, eyes glazing over the cauldron cakes and pumpkin pasties. His gaze flickered up to Daphne, and he smiled devilishly at her.

She smiled back, her gaze level and collected.

Astoria's eyes darted between the two, unsure of what she was watching.

"Daphne," he said, his eyes still flitting from the food to her.

"Theodore. Have you been well?" Daphne said, her voice tranquil and clipped.

He nodded once, and said, "Yes. And you?"
Her head listed and she smiled again. "Yes, very well."

Astoria hated what was happening down to the pit of her stomach and the tips of her fingers. No, no, no -- not Theodore Nott, Daph, she thought. She had to stop this; she knew how desperate her sister was to make a good match, but this guy? No. He simply wasn't good enough for her sister. She wouldn't let Daphne settle for whichever blood purist, scum sucking, dirtbag who gave her a second glance. Not him.

"You look lovely tonight," he said, his lips curling into a smile that made Astoria recoil.

Daphne simply nodded her head, a triumphant half smile on her lips, and said, her voice as composed as ever, "Thank you, Theodore."

Astoria cleared her throat, and said, in an offhand sort of way, "Yes, she does look rather lovely, doesn't she?" Daphne gave her a warning side glance, and smiled again. Continuing, she went on, "She's a master at make-up and arranging the most beautiful of outfits. She's also very good with beauty remedies and the likes -- like, earlier, she was freaking out -- well, because, you see, she had the most inconvenient appearance of acne --"

Daphne's eyes widened in horror as her sister went on, "but then she simply just snipped off a Bubotuber from the garden, got some of its nectar, and voila, she's as beautiful as ever!" She said each word with a light aloofness.

Daphne grit her teeth, her eyes wide with boiling anger, her fists clenched, pumpkin filling oozing from her white knuckles. Dropping the mangled pumpkin pastie on the table, she reassembled herself, a phony smile, a calm exhale, and turned to a most confused looking Theodore. "Would you excuse us?" she said, all charisma.

He nodded, unsure, and shuffled uncomfortably as Daphne gripped Astoria's wrist. With her exorbitantly strong grip, she yanked her sister along, dipping into the hallway to their right, casting shadows on the dimly lit walls. Pushing her into the alcove that homed an ancient looking bust statue, Daphne said, practically pinning Astoria against the wall with her threatening closeness, "What are you doing?"

"I was just making conversation," she deadpanned.

"You lied. You humiliated me -- Astoria -- why would you --" There was shock and anger and betrayal all minced with the low hum of her voice, as she tried to keep her volume down.

"Because you can't -- not him,"

Daphne huffed, placing one hand on her forehead, the other on her waist. "And what, pray tell, is so wrong with him?"
Astoria let out a wry laugh. "You're kidding. That guy is a total creep! You said so yourself when you were in school, and --"