Daphne Greengrass (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} dh_daphne) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} darkesthour_rpg,@ 2008-02-05 18:45:00 |
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RP: Secrets and Lies
Date and Time: 5 February 2008 Evening
Characters: Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy
Private/Public: Private
Location: Malfoy Manor
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mention of character death, sadness
Summary: Daphne returns to Malfoy Manor.
Completion: Complete
Daphne stepped out of the fireplace a beat before Getty and Linc. She still heard Lionel begging her to stay, but Anne gave him a tearful smile, promising Tante would soon return. Daphne and Anne had reached an agreement, the fruits of which lay in Daphne’s trunk.
The Manor was quiet, but one of Draco’s many butlers entered the grand sitting room as she brushed soot from her lavender robes.
“Ah, Miss Greengrass. You’ve returned.” The butler bowed and Daphne offered him a small smile.
Away from the French authorities and their eternal questions, she was allowed to relax. The butler, a huge man of strict Russian blood, motioned to take her cloak as she unclasped it.
“Is the Ambassador at home?” Daphne questioned, wondering if there had been any word from Marcus.
“I believe he is in one of the wings not yet refurbished.” The man told her carefully. Daphne understood immediately. Draco had only asked her one thing when she moved into the Manor, that she not go exploring on her own. It was simple enough, remaining her in suite, the dining room or the first floor.
“Ah, I see.” Daphne nodded her understanding. “Please inform him that I have returned. I would like to speak with him in regards to my brother’s disappearance.”
“Will you be in your rooms, Miss?” He questioned as Getty and Linc headed for the stairs with her things.
“Yes. And would you please get me a pot of tea?” She asked politely with her most winsome smile. “I fear our trip exhausted my Elves.”
“Right away, Miss.”
Daphne nodded, waiting until he bowed before stepping quickly up the stairs. Her rooms were hers alone, a place where she felt completely at peace. Draco, of course, was always welcome inside, as was Marcus.
Beau, Daphne thought, worrying her lip with her bottom teeth. Where have you gone? What kept you from Marseilles?
The evil voice in the back of her mind persisted. He’d grown bored, tired, had gone off to have fun while she suffered through the endless questions and veiled innuendo. Anne was confident neither she nor Daphne would be held as suspects, but that was no reassurance. Daphne made a mental note to contact her brother’s old attorney this week. There might come a time, of course, when she would need him.
Shrugging out of her robes in the solace of her bedroom, Daphne made her way to the loo. Getty had already run her a bath before retiring to her room with Linc. The poor dear felt guilty that something she’d done might have caused Lynus’ death. Daphne could not soothe her without revealing the truth.
That, of course, was impossible.
Sinking into the rose-scented water – piping hot as she liked it – Daphne laid her head back against the heavy porcelain edge of the tub, letting her hair drape over the side to prevent wetness. She shifted the new wand strapped to her thigh, this one of fine Rowan and her last remaining Mermaid Scales. Having used her beloved Ebony wand at Lynus’ murder, she was forced to destroy it, lest she be caught.
Hearing the outside door that led to her suite open, Daphne reached for the wand now submerged in the rose-scented water, splashing slightly with the sudden movement.
“Dmitry?” Daphne called, fingering her wand. “Draco?”
Date and Time: 5 February 2008 Evening
Characters: Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy
Private/Public: Private
Location: Malfoy Manor
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mention of character death, sadness
Summary: Daphne returns to Malfoy Manor.
Completion: Complete
Daphne stepped out of the fireplace a beat before Getty and Linc. She still heard Lionel begging her to stay, but Anne gave him a tearful smile, promising Tante would soon return. Daphne and Anne had reached an agreement, the fruits of which lay in Daphne’s trunk.
The Manor was quiet, but one of Draco’s many butlers entered the grand sitting room as she brushed soot from her lavender robes.
“Ah, Miss Greengrass. You’ve returned.” The butler bowed and Daphne offered him a small smile.
Away from the French authorities and their eternal questions, she was allowed to relax. The butler, a huge man of strict Russian blood, motioned to take her cloak as she unclasped it.
“Is the Ambassador at home?” Daphne questioned, wondering if there had been any word from Marcus.
“I believe he is in one of the wings not yet refurbished.” The man told her carefully. Daphne understood immediately. Draco had only asked her one thing when she moved into the Manor, that she not go exploring on her own. It was simple enough, remaining her in suite, the dining room or the first floor.
“Ah, I see.” Daphne nodded her understanding. “Please inform him that I have returned. I would like to speak with him in regards to my brother’s disappearance.”
“Will you be in your rooms, Miss?” He questioned as Getty and Linc headed for the stairs with her things.
“Yes. And would you please get me a pot of tea?” She asked politely with her most winsome smile. “I fear our trip exhausted my Elves.”
“Right away, Miss.”
Daphne nodded, waiting until he bowed before stepping quickly up the stairs. Her rooms were hers alone, a place where she felt completely at peace. Draco, of course, was always welcome inside, as was Marcus.
Beau, Daphne thought, worrying her lip with her bottom teeth. Where have you gone? What kept you from Marseilles?
The evil voice in the back of her mind persisted. He’d grown bored, tired, had gone off to have fun while she suffered through the endless questions and veiled innuendo. Anne was confident neither she nor Daphne would be held as suspects, but that was no reassurance. Daphne made a mental note to contact her brother’s old attorney this week. There might come a time, of course, when she would need him.
Shrugging out of her robes in the solace of her bedroom, Daphne made her way to the loo. Getty had already run her a bath before retiring to her room with Linc. The poor dear felt guilty that something she’d done might have caused Lynus’ death. Daphne could not soothe her without revealing the truth.
That, of course, was impossible.
Sinking into the rose-scented water – piping hot as she liked it – Daphne laid her head back against the heavy porcelain edge of the tub, letting her hair drape over the side to prevent wetness. She shifted the new wand strapped to her thigh, this one of fine Rowan and her last remaining Mermaid Scales. Having used her beloved Ebony wand at Lynus’ murder, she was forced to destroy it, lest she be caught.
Hearing the outside door that led to her suite open, Daphne reached for the wand now submerged in the rose-scented water, splashing slightly with the sudden movement.
“Dmitry?” Daphne called, fingering her wand. “Draco?”