Stephen Cornfoot (supstephen) wrote in plagued_logs, @ 2016-10-27 23:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !plot, 1999 october, daphne greengrass, pansy parkinson, stephen cornfoot |
Who: Stephen and Daphne - Followed by Pansy[!grab-me] and open to one other person living in The Leaky.
What: Until death do us part
When: Thursday night - Friday morning
Where: The Leaky Cauldron
Rating: Low
Stephen stood on the street in the darkness wrapped in a thick black cloak.Even if someone saw him they wouldn't be able to identify him in the darkness. That was all he needed. Daphne was staying in The Leaky Cauldron, and it only took a few days off roaming up and down the alley shooting glances up at the wonky building to see which room she was in. Daphne could never resist looking out the window. Stephen crouched low, muttered a few words and flicked his borrowed wand. There was a soft flash of purple and he sprang up to the window ledge as if it were nothing more than a steep step. He pushed on the glass and it slid open slowly. She hadn't even locked it… Stephen walked forward and stood at the end of her bed, his wand clutched at his side. “Daphne,” he said, his voice high-pitched and cold. Daphne had lulled herself into a false sense of security here in the Alley. She hadn't seen her husband in days and while she hadn't been quiet on the journals, asking after her hurting friend, she hadn't heard from Stephen. Perhaps he wasn't even here, though she very much doubted that. Stephen was always there, always hovering on the edges. The sound of her name startled Daphne awake. Not Pansy. Daphne looked at the outline of the figure at the end of her bed and gasped. "St-Stephen." She pushed herself up to sitting and pulled the blanket up over herself. She was fully dressed already in some borrowed pajamas, but the extra layers of blankets made her feel a little more modest and secure. "What are you- I didn't- You scared me." Stephen lowered his hood but didn't smile. He watched her without emotion as she fumbled to cover herself. “What makes a good wife Daphne?” he asked her, his eyes locked on hers. “Excuse me?” Daphne rubbed at her eyes, clearing away the sleep. Her intention wasn't to be rude. That was always dangerous. “Loyalty, devotion. Supporting your husband.” She ticked off a list of things that had been hammered into her head since birth by her own mother. “So you do know. Good. Then you can't argue ignorance of your vows.” Stephen raised his wand, and a humourless smile curled on his lips. “W-what?” She stuttered when his wand came up into her view. She knew it was no joke, it was never a joke. “I haven't done anything.” “No? You took a vow when you married Stephen to be loyal, and yet you run off to the first people who will listen to tell them of your Mark and to spread rumours,” His cold blue eyes narrowed to pinpricks. “You betrayed me. You betrayed The Dark Lord, and I do not take betrayal lightly. Avada kedavra!” A bright jet of green light and Daphne was gone. Stephen lifted his hood and returned to the window. He left Daphne’s body where she had fallen - slumped in the bed, her eyes wide with fear but unseeing. |