Important Disclaimer: This story is a sequel, as such if you have not read Living Dangerously prior then this may prove hard to follow it. We pick up approximately the same place the Half Blood Prince film does, albeit with some slight changes in continuity, which you will see explained in the context of the story. If an event happened in the film which is not covered in this continuity but still referenced, presume it played out identically. This is the story of Daphne Greengrass and of her romance with The Boy Who Lived, not a retcon to the entire universe.

And now, presenting…

~ Living In Secret ~

The rain was loud on the roof. She was thankful, as its dull, rhythmic beats were about the only thing keeping her grounded right now.

She tried to steady her breathing.

The harsh weather caused her to pad up in layers, which was now backfiring on her. A thick layer of sweat clung to her back and her palms were slippery - though that was mostly down to the nerves rather than temperature. The second she started thinking about trying to tidy herself up it just caused an all new level of nausea to set in.

The last thing she needed was to be stressing about something so self-conscious. Over half an hour had passed since she started waiting; that would usually be unacceptable, but on the contrary, she found herself wanting the time to be stretched out even further.

She wet her dry lips and took another quick glance of the room.

It was dark and cramped. The whole place reeked of rot and the only light came from a flickering candle in the corner. She'd struggle to find somewhere she knew that was more decrepit and dingy; needless to say it was certainly not the place she imagined it to be. She had rehearsed this exact moment over and over again in her head, and each time - though with vastly different outcomes - she'd always imagined a respectable location. An ancient castle, a stormy beach side, or a burning field, maybe. Certainly not a musty corner shop in a run-down section of Knockturn Alley.

Draco was stood nearby. His figure was still as a statue. He was terrified, possibly even more than she was. Granted, her father wasn't much of an emotional support, but at least he was here. Last she had heard of the Malfoys, Lucius was in Azkaban for his capture at the Department of Mysteries and Narcissa was on the run.

A lot of scandalous arrests had come from the battle, which then left a power vacuum behind in its wake. There was a reason her father was here and Draco's was not, and she had no doubt he blamed her for it.

Despite their shared discomfort, it was obvious neither of them would be seeking comfort in the other anytime soon. The silence in the room was actually deafening.

Then there was creaking noise and a section of wall opened out into a door.

They both flinched at the movement. Her father stepped out. Daphne's gaze shot straight past him and to a hulking figure following closely behind. Under the figures robes she saw the eyes of a wolf staring back at her.

"Right, sweetheart," her father spoke in a hushed tone, "Good luck... try not to disappoint."

"Will you hit me again if I do?"

She bit down on her tongue. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. The nerves had taken a hold of her and she'd responded on automatic instinct. Not just that, but the nervous swallowing caused her voice to crack like a little boys.

Her father eyed her intensely.

"You go in there being a bitch. See what happens," he hissed.

She chewed the inside of her mouth. Her body refused to budge an inch. Her father noticed her hesitation and his face returned to a placid expression.

"Just... just keep your head down," he said softer. "Only speak when spoken to. Be respectful. Get it over with. You can do this."

Shaking, she took a step forward. Her knees were weak below and every step took a tremendous amount of effort, she eventually made her way over the door her father had entered through.

"You, boy. You're coming too."

Draco nodded at the command and joined them in the back. He was trembling with each step; Daphne almost felt bad for him. She crossed into a dark passage where the light from the room was unable to reach. She travelled through pitch black for a few moments, until her eyes adjusted to the dark and she was able to make out the silhouette of her father before her.

With nothing in front of her eyes keeping her distracted, the anxiety she'd been fighting off back began to catch up. The wand in her sleeve suddenly itched to be grabbed - though she knew doing so would be more trouble than it was worth. She could see impossible shapes moving and darting around the darkness. Her heartbeat was soon loud enough to drown out the rain above and the deeper into the darkness she ventured, the air around her grew colder.

They reached the end of the corridor and stepped into a room, where Daphne suddenly found her eyes glued to the floor.

There was a presence in the room with them.

It was cold and not entirely human, bringing images of the Dementors of third year to mind… but yet, this felt worse in so many ways. Her feet were suddenly paralyzed. Her body refused to move an inch and it took a hand on her back from a masked figure to make her move forward again. Shakily, she dropped gently to her knees, her head down in a bow.

"My lord."

She dared not look around the room; the noises next to her told her Draco repeated her movement.

"Rise, my children..." came an smooth and icy voice.

It took a second for the voice to register in her brain, but when it did, she didn't linger. She quickly stood and brought her hands together in front of her, all the while, her head was still firmly pointing at the ground.

There was an eerie snicker from ahead.

"Have I done something to offend you, girl? Will I be talking to the top of your head all evening?"

With a clenched jaw, she slowly raised her face into view.

A shiver went down Daphne's spine at what she saw.

The creature staring back was not human. It sat like a man, wore robes like a man, but it was no man. It's face was that of a skulls, just as pale, dead skin with no hair or lips to be seen. Sunken into the face were two brilliant blue eyes, which caught her off guard, as the rumours lead her to believe they were red. The creature titled his head to the side, only now did she clock on he was staring back at her. She did not linger on his eyes a moment longer.

"That's better... Pretty young thing, aren't you? Yes…" the Dark Lord gave a toothed smile, "...if you're smart about it, you'll excel nicely. Nice faces have a habit of getting what they want."

She tried to give a polite nod, but only managed to jut her head forward in a bow.

The daunting indication behind his words only occurred to her a second afterwards, by that time The Dark Lords attention had moved on and he did not catch her eyes bulge out of her face.

"Do either of you have anything to say for yourselves, before we get started?"

Draco instantly moved from his position and threw himself onto one knee.

"It's an honour to be in your presence, your grace!"

Daphne's heart did a somersault and she assumed instantly in that moment that Draco was dead. The Dark Lord simply gave a bemused expression - or attempted something that resembled one.

"Just as snivelling as your father, I see!" the Dark Lord said in an energetic, almost upbeat tone, which sounded unnatural leaving his mouth. "I never did like Lucius, you know. Always so eager to please... I had half a mind to thank Fudge myself when he threw him away to rot."

Draco's face dropped. He hesitated on the spot for a second, Daphne silently begged him to not push. She wouldn't try to save him, but had no desire to see him die before her eyes. He'd be a flayed corpse on the floor in front of her, and she knew all too well his habit of running his mouth. Eventually he did move back to his position, Daphne let out a breath she didn't know she'd been building.

It was then she noticed the dead man's eyes had fallen to her now instead.

"And you, girl?"

She shook her head instantly. She had nothing to say. Even if she had, her mouth was that dry she doubted she could force the words through her throat.

But that wasn't enough for the Dark Lord. His eye lids narrowed and he leaned closer to her, almost as if he was examining her through a magnifying glass. She clenched her jaw, repressing the urge to pull away.

"You father tells me some very interesting things about you, girl... Would you, in your own words... give us that story?"

She was prepared for this moment, she had done rehearsals every night for almost a week. She knew exactly what she needed to say. This wasn't going to be like the last time. She wasn't that person anymore. She refused to freeze.

Daphne suddenly became very aware of the amount of eyes in the room. Her father and the wolf man watched from behind, that she knew, but there were also two figures by the Dark Lord's side. Bellatrix Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov; she recognised them from the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Bellatrix, in particular, had been glaring daggers at her since she entered.

With all eyes on her, she opened her mouth.

"It was I that lured Harry Potter to the Department of Mysteries. First I spent a year growing close to him and then when the time came..." she paused to wet her lips, "... he was under my little finger. When he wanted to wait for the Order of the Phoenix for backup, it was I who pushed for us to not delay. Though Mister Malfoy later failed the plan… he most likely wouldn't have gotten there at all, if it weren't for my help. He trusted me."

It had not come out as a word-for-word retelling of her fathers story, but a close approximation of the deception they had compromised on. Though, compromise was hardly the word for it.

His will had beaten hers. Though it never got quite as far as torture - unless you count the emotional kind - the weeks after the battle had been rough on her. Her father was a man with a silver tongue and a knack for getting what he wanted and a temper for when he didn't. She'd seen the darker side of that man now. She agreed to his terms without negotiation. She had done and said everything that was required of her, just like a perfect daughter would do. Whether she meant the words she said or they were just empty promises… even she couldn't tell anymore.

Her life had gotten considerably more dangerous these past few months, keeping her mouth shut had wound up the best option for survival. Hopefully her wake-up call hadn't come too late.

A silence hung heavy in the room after she stopped talking.

She refused to meet the Dark Lord's gaze, but from the corner of her eye she could see his stare was not broken.

"Is this the truth?"

She gone over it in her head that many times, it likely could have been. She could picture it all in excruciating detail, from Harry's face of betrayal, to the deliberate thoughts of manipulation she'd had about deceiving him. She'd relived it so many times that it almost felt real.

She could sense the tugging in her head that she'd been warned about. Like a fist slowly tightening around her brain stem. Her mind was being probed. She never prayed to the Great Old Ones much, but she was making up for it immediately. She prayed to them her deception came across as genuine. She prayed the lies that she told herself were convincing.

"Yes… my lord."

The Dark Lord considered her a moment longer, then reclined back into his seat. His gaze was still upon her, she was not out of danger, but felt in a better place than moments ago.

"If that is the case, then my question is - as I'm sure my friends would also like to know - what inspired you to act without orders? You were not following any commands put forth by me… You acted entirely independently, withheld information from your father, all while doing a great service. I'm sure help from others could have been a great asset to you in your endeavour. So why act alone, I wonder?"

Daphne swallowed.

She'd had her speech planned word for word, now she was being forced to think on the spot. Follow up questions were to be expected, she knew, but it didn't do anything to stop the surge of panic now spreading around her system. She strained her throat to clear her breath. Any hesitation or tripping over her words would spoil the facade.

"I want to be the best. In order for me to properly seduce Harry, I needed total control of the situation. Involving anyone else would have been an unnecessary liability - "

The Dark Lord's face split open in a wide smile.

"Harry! My, my, first name basis with the boy!" he announced joyfully. "It must have been something quite special the two of you had!"

A cackle of laughter leaked over from Bellatrix's side. Daphne fought the urge to shrink away. There was sincerity in the Dark Lord's voice, like he genuinely found it funny, but Daphne couldn't help the feeling she was being laughed at, rather than with. Draco, who she had momentarily completely forgotten was by her side, shifted around nervously.

"Purely professional, my lord."

All of a sudden, the Dark Lord lurched forward in his chair.

"Don't lie to me, little girl."

His face had come to rest inches in front of her own. Daphne was absolutely still. Her eyes returned to their spot on the floor, her jaw clenched so hard it felt like her teeth were going to shatter. A ringing silence hung over the room, the only sound was Draco's panicked breath from beside her, which made her realize that she was holding her own.

She let out a slow exhale, bobbing her head a few times in understanding.

The Dark Lord leaned back in his chair again, this time turning to address the room around them.

"The rest of you may leave us. I wish to speak to Miss Greengrass privately... " he commanded, and then added, "... no harm shall come to the girl in your absence, Benedict, I assure you of that."

But the Dark Lord's words came as no reassurance to her.

Footsteps began around her, but Daphne lacked the drive to watch her only defence leave her. Her father's steps were recognisable among them, he always wore shoes with slight heels in to make himself appear taller than he was. Suddenly the weeks of manipulation, bullying and abuse meant nothing anymore. She had never been more vulnerable than right now, in this moment, and as his footsteps disappeared into the corridor from which they came, Daphne wanted nothing more than for her daddy to come back.

After the footsteps vanished entirely, and only when the rain above was loud in her ears, did the Dark Lord step up from his seat. Daphne watched him began to pace slowly around her, as if carefully considering himself at this moment.

Then there was a new noise. The creaking of floor boards, moving closer to her. It sounded like another person was in the room with them, but as Daphne turned her head to look, she suddenly found herself again paralysed with fright. A snake, impossibly gigantic in size, was moving towards her. It slithered across the length of the room in mere seconds, and then, incredibly, simply carried on past her. It took the better part of a full minute for its entire body to disappear through a crack in the wall, the whole time with Daphne's eye transfixed on it.

"Does Nagini frighten you, my child?"

There was sweat on her forehead now. Her wand was abandoned inside her sleeve. She could not defend herself even if she wanted to. She could not think what else to do other than nod her head again.

"A Slytherin who's scared of snakes… Ironic, wouldn't you say?" the Dark Lord gave a bemused chuckle.

The Dark Lord's tone then changed. He had completed a pace around the room and brought himself to a stop in front of her face. He moved in, his brilliant blue eyes singling in on her intently.

"Do you believe that, after your... so-called betrayal at the Battle of the Department of Mysterious… the boy still trusts you?"

Daphne shook her head, but the look on the Dark Lord's face told her that answer was not satisfactory.

"Impossible, my lord. He more than likely hates me…"

The skin where the Dark Lord's eyebrows once were furrowed and he turned away from her, taking his place back on his seat.

"Regardless, this is the task I am giving you."

The words took a second to process for Daphne. Her face flashed confused, before she made amends and dropped back into her monotone stare.

"My lord?"

"Do whatever it takes..." he continued, "... lie to him... love him... seduce him... let him put a child in you, for all I care! I don't need the intimate details... "

He gave a wave of dismissal and thankfully, didn't catch her blushing cheeks.

"... But make sure his trust is in you. He is never to suspect your true allegiance. That is the task I am giving you. Any deviations from it and I'll assume your loyalties do not lay where you claim."

Daphne's lips dried again, but she suddenly lacked the drive needed to wet them. When she spoke, it came out weak.

"And… then?"

She feared that she already knew the answer.

"Then nothing. Work your way closer to him, then when the time is right, you will receive further instructions. You are not to make any moves to harm Harry Potter, and should anyone else try to do the same, you are to protect him. Have I made myself clear?"

Solace swept over her.

For a second, she thought he was asking her to do the unforgivable to the only man she'd ever felt anything for. His request instead was mercy, though she doubted he intended it that way. Taking a deep breath, Daphne nodded with more confidence than before.

"Yes, my Lord. Perfectly."

"Good..." he nodded, then gestured out behind her. "Now be a dear and send young Draco in for me, would you?"

Shakily, she did the best she could to obey. She offered him a bow - as best she could - and left the room in a hurry.

Just like that it was over. And she was still alive.

As she plunged into the blackness, her feet loud on the creaking floorboards, she half expected the giant snake of his to come pelting down the corridor after her. But it never came. She was still alive. She had faced the Dark Lord, lied to his face and walked away unscathed. She was still alive. Or he had allowed her to live, was probably a more accurate description.

She wasn't sure if he truly bought the story she had given him, but he had chosen to give her her life. Which, all things considered, was more than what most people got away with.

She was still trembling when she emerged back out into the main room. Bellatrix, Antonin and the wolf-man lurked in a corner nearby, noticeably distant from her father and Draco. All eyes descended on her as she made her presence known, but only her father moved to meet her.

"How did it go? What did he say?"

Daphne didn't break from her stride. She moved straight to Draco, who was staring back at her with fearful eyes.

"He wants you."

His face twisted into something ugly, then after a moment of hesitation, he moved quickly to the passage she had exited.

"Well? Does he like you? Is he letting you in?" her father' voice cracked somewhere in between giddy and frightened.

His eyes watched her in eager anticipation. From the corner of the eye she spotted the Death Eaters doing the same.

The words struggled to leave her throat. She was having difficult processing all the emotions of what had just happened, the idea of trying to formulate them into words seemed an impossible task right now. She opened her mouth, carefully considered herself, closed it again, only to open it again a moment later. She suddenly realised how weak her knees were beneath her.

When she was finally able to form a sentence, all she was able to produce was a feeble, "... I would like a glass of water, please."

It took a second for the words to register with her father, but he then dove away from her in equal enthusiasm and returned seconds later with a goblet in his hand. She didn't know where he had produced it from, but took it all the same. As she lifted it to her lips, she was momentarily taken back by how wet the drink was. Or rather, how dry her mouth was, she should say.

She gulped down half the cup in a few swigs, then handed the silver back to her father.

"Well? Daphne?" he asked impatiently.

His pestering seemed to drain away as her attention shifted to something else. There was a skylight in this room that she hadn't noticed before. Which was silly, considering how long she'd spent examining the room while waiting here earlier.

She could see the rain hitting the glass, bouncing off and then dribbling the rest of the way down.

Never before this day did she consider how soothing the rain sounded. If it wasn't for it's constantly lingering in the background, she doubted this night would have gone the same way. It was like a layer of comfort that stuck with her, even when her father had not. It kept her grounded, like an anchor, kept her confident. It even made her feel like things were going to end up okay, and that was a feeling that she didn't experience much of these days.

Her father eventually stopped mithering her, but lingered close nonetheless. Just when she felt like she could have gone on listening to the rain for eternity, a shrill creak brought her back to the room.

Draco was back, looking shaken, and coming towards her.

"He wants us all."

And just like that, she was back into the fold. She filed back into the same position as before and the group moved into the hall. The darkness swallowed them up instantly, but this time she wasn't scared. This was just a moment in time, and soon it would be over.

And until then, she had the rain to keep her company.

The group emptied into the room, retaking their positions from earlier. The Dark Lord looked more refined than earlier, now sitting upright on his seat. Whatever was said between he and Draco obviously soured him from when she last saw him. Bellatrix and Antonin moved to his side, this time the wolf-man took a place beside them. Daphne's father lingered on the fringe of her vision, seemingly calmer than before.

The Dark Lord gestured for attention in the already silent room.

"I have spoken with you each privately, in those conversations I have given you both a task to do for me this coming year at Hogwarts. You are forbidden from discussing these assignments among yourselves. Only the two of you, myself and your Professor Snape know the details of your tasks, he will be assistance to you in whenever you need. Do not trust anyone else, especially each other. Any questions?"

She and Draco shook their heads.

"Good. Now, it is time to join your brothers and sisters. Present to me… your left arms."

The rain was alive in Daphne's ears. Far louder than it was earlier, or maybe she was just listening harder for it. No longer shaking, she pulled back her heavy sleeve and presented her bare arm to the Dark Lord. Just a moment in time, she reminded herself. She was in the worst of it and after that, she would be okay. It would be over soon. She just had to get through this night.

Pieces could be picked up later, but salvation was not an option for dead girls.

"Mosmordre Aeternum."

The rain was then drowned out under the sound of Daphne's stomach-churning scream.