"You did not find anything of interest?" said Voldemort quietly. "That is… disappointing."
Daphne shifted uncomfortably.
The Dark Lord's red eyes made her feel as though her soul were being raked over hot coals. He never screamed, never shouted, never even raised his voice. To her knowledge, the only time the Dark Lord had ever lost his temper was when Oleandra had thrown herself in front of Astoria to take a Killing Curse in her place.
But even without outward displays of anger, she could tell she had displeased him.
"My sister's motives have always eluded comprehension, my Lord," she replied uneasily, avoiding his gaze by staring at her fingers. "But perhaps with more memories—"
"Enough."
Daphne froze.
"In the grand scheme of things, Oleandra Greengrass is irrelevant," said Voldemort softly. "Without you, Miss Davies, or Draco, she cannot summon that dragon projection alone— am I correct?"
Daphne nodded.
Many of Oleandra's more powerful runic spells required the concerted effort of two or more Wizards, each employing full-body stances— throwing traditional casting practices out the window in favour of something closer to a dance party. On her own, Oleandra's magic wasn't strong enough to draw on the power of the Insigil of Lindorm, and she was only one person— one who had already burned all her bridges.
"I will freely admit, I admire the lengths to which your sister pushed the bounds of what I had long dismissed as a dead discipline of magic— despite her dogged persistence in opposing my plans," continued Voldemort. "In the end, we pure-blooded Wizards all stand on the same side, and I have already won… so I would not be opposed to graciously pardoning such a brilliant, pure-blooded Witch's past crimes."
Oleandra was certainly dangerous, but she was not an army. She was alone.
"Thank you, my Lord," said Daphne hoarsely.
Voldemort waved his hand.
The audience was over, so Daphne dipped into a slight bow and stepped out of Lucius Malfoy's study, returning to her quarters, where her mother and little sister now lived. Iris Greengrass had finally woken after a year-long, potion-induced coma— Snape had administered the antidote himself— but Astoria still refused to so much as look at her, let alone speak.
…
Daphne cast her mind back to the events that had followed the battle in the Department of Mysteries. Somehow, the three Greengrass sisters had emerged victorious from their clash with Voldemort and returned to the Death Room, where the Order of the Phoenix were busy unmasking the captured Death Eaters.
But it was then that everything had begun to unravel. Maxwell, their father, was among the men unmasked— clearly under the thrall of an Imperius Curse.
"Get away from him!" was the last thing Daphne remembered hearing. "That's not our father!"
The next thing she knew, Oleandra had thrown herself at them as they embraced their father. The world had spun madly, and then all four found themselves at Malfoy Manor, at the mercy of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Voldemort then demanded satisfaction from the three sisters for having foiled his plan to capture the prophecy orb— if they swore fealty, he would only take one of their lives. Oleandra's.
"I'll never join you!" Astoria had shouted. "Never! And neither will Daphne, so you might as well kill us all now!"
Oleandra freed herself from her bindings and jumped in front of Astoria just as Voldemort raised his wand, but instead of using the Killing Curse, he mercilessly tortured her, furiously screaming at her for daring to reenact the miracle of Lily Potter's sacrifice.
"DID IT NOT OCCUR TO YOU THAT LORD VOLDEMORT MIGHT LEARN FROM HIS MISTAKES?" he had screamed. "YOU DARE USE THE MAGIC THAT REDUCED ME TO A MERE WRAITH FIFTEEN YEARS AGO? AGAINST ME!?"
Then Wormtail struck Oleandra from behind with his silver hand, punching through her spine, tearing out her heart, and leaving her for dead. But the deed was done. Astoria was protected, and the ancient white magic charm would hold as long as her family lived— which included Daphne, whom Voldemort desperately wanted to recruit because of the Dark Lady Prophecy.
Daphne would never forget the image of her sister lying on the floor, bleeding out in a pool of her own blood, her eyes glassy and empty.
It was then that Voldemort ordered his Death Eaters to bring out their mother and forced her to kneel next to her husband.
"If you are indeed the Dark Lady prophesied to stand at my side, then kill," Voldemort had said. "One shall suffice to prove your loyalty."
Oleandra's words had echoed through Daphne's mind.
"That's not our father!"
Everything that happened afterwards was a blur. All she could remember was a profound sense of guilt, and watching numbly as a masked Death Eater forced some kind of draught down Iris's throat, causing her struggling body to go limp.
Voldemort had then taken her far away, and… there had been a snake, and then…
Daphne groaned in pain, holding her head.
The next thing she knew, she was back at Malfoy Manor, watching Voldemort furiously torturing Bellatrix's gelatinous form, along with Draco and his mother, Narcissa. Only later would she learn that Oleandra had somehow recovered from the gaping hole in her chest and escaped the manor with Astoria and their mother's unconscious body.
Without her.
"Oleandra…" growled Daphne. "If it hadn't been for you…!"
None of this would ever have happened. The Greengrass would have quietly endured on the sidelines, just as they always had. All of this blood was on her hands.