Darcie woke up with a splitting headache.
The back of her head, just behind her left ear, pained her so much that it jolted her right out of her grogginess. She tore apart her eyelids and looked around. It was her bedroom, she realized. The same carpet, two sets of windows looking out to the southeast lands of her family, and the drapes that welcomed morning in all the seasons.
Her head bobbed around, and in the colors of green, gold, and silver, she found some lost solace from this pain.
Memories came flooding in, then. Daphne's fall, her attempt to make her levitate, and then her losing control before it all went black.
For the first time in a while, she felt anger for herself. Why couldn't she have been specific enough? What if she had failed to pull Daphne back?
This should have never happened, she thought, grimacing because of the pain.
The pop broke apart the silence, and the house-elf appeared in his filthy rag and with a swollen eye. "Miss Darcie!" Dobby squeaked, his spindly arms shaking.
Darcie frowned. Her hand reached her heart and found that it was beating loudly against her chest. Odd, she reflected. She looked back at Dobby and the swelling over his left eye. "Was it father?" she asked.
Dobby nodded. And then, instantly turned around, banging his head on the smaller table placed near the bed. "Dobby... should... not... think... ill..."
"Dobby," Darcie said, feeling the swelling on her own head. "Stop and stand straight."
The house-elf followed the command. Darcie reached for his head and patted it. "I told you to dress in new clothes and have a bath," she said, sniffing. "What happened? No. Never mind. Let mother know I am awake."
The house-elf looked at her with his large pale-green misty eye and nodded before disapparating with another pop.
Darcie shook her head. She didn't like dirtiness, especially around the things that she was fond of. House-elves were the most loyal servants and pets, she recalled. Then why let them walk around in those clothes, rather than in proper garments? Not even allowing them to clean themselves up was the stupidest thing she had come to know.
Dobby is clever by half a measure from other house-elves, her father had barked once in open disgust. Don't you give him any clothes? OK?
She had realized then that her voice didn't have power in the house in this matter. All she could do before was ask her mother and hope for the best.
"Darcie!" her mother came running into the room, followed by her father and Draco. She sat down beside her, her arms wrapping around her in a warm embrace.
Darcie hugged her back. "I am alright, mother," she whispered, feeling the moistness on her shoulders. "Don't cry."
Narcissa pulled herself back, rubbing off the tears with the back of her hand. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice brimming out with concern. "How's your head?"
Darcie didn't answer outrightly. "Good morning, father," she greeted and then smiled at Draco as little as she could, who was looking paler than ever. There was a red tinge in all their eyes. A sign of troubled sleep, or the lack of one, she reflected. She touched the swollen spot on the backside of her head. "It hurts a little here. I have a headache, too."
"It's OK," Lucius said, seeing Narcissa lunge at the spot where Darcie had pointed. "I have asked for the best Healer from St. Mungo's. He will come shortly."
Suddenly, a knock resounded before Darcie could ask what had happened. Her eyes darted to the doors, and on the threshold, she saw the three Greengrasses, one shorter than the other. Mrs. Rachel Greengrass had curly black hair and blue eyes, looking like an adult version of Astoria. Daphne's blond hair was from her father, Mr. Meirion Greengrass.
Her mother's lips pressed into a thin line at their sight, Darcie noticed. It meant she wasn't pleased with them.
"The children wanted to see her," Mrs. Greengrass said, explaining the intrusion. "I have something to say as well."
Her mother opened her mouth, but Darice was a step ahead. "Good morning, Mrs. Greengrass," she said, nodding at her. "Please come in."
The trio came to stand at the foot of the bed, as Lucius and Draco stepped toward Narcissa. Draco especially was throwing a deep hateful look at Daphne and her sister.
There was clear tiredness on the Greengrasses' faces as they looked at her. "I am sorry," Mrs. Greengrass apologized, her eyes glistening. "Daphne told me what happened (-Darcie and Daphne's eyes matched-). Thanks for saving her in that instant. I don't have the words..."
"No need for all this, Rachel," her mother replied flatly in her place. "I am glad that your daughter is standing all and well. Now, please leave us. I am sure you have many tidings to attend to back at home."
It seemed they had spent the night at her home, Darcie reasoned. She saw them turning back to leave, and words came out of her mouth that she should have said some time ago. "Mother," she addressed, looking at Narcissa. "Can Daphne stay here with me one more day?"
It wasn't in Darcie's nature to give overly long explanations. Yes or no, she would content herself with any of the two. Narcissa's eyes narrowed, her head turning to find Mrs. Greengrass looking back at her. "Sure," her mother said, "if she wants to."
"I do," Daphne immediately replied.
"I want to stay with them, too," Astoria blurted.
"No," Mrs. Greengrass said, looking at the little girl, and then her eyes matched Narcissa's stare. "Daphne can return tomorrow, of course. Let the girls spend some more time with each other."
Suddenly, with a pop, Dobby appeared near Daphne, startling her.
"You!" Lucius fumed and poked the house-elf's chest with his cane. "How many times have I told you to not apparate so near to the guests? What is it?"
"Forgive me, master Lucius," Dobby said meekly, clutching his chest. "You told Dobby to let you know if a wizard in white and green cloak comes to the house..."
Lucius' expression suddenly brightened up. "That must be the Healer from St. Mungo's," he said, looking at Narcissa. "I will receive him. And you, Dobby, go prepare the guest room and punish yourself. You are gaining a penchant for forgetting instructions."
"Yes, master Lucius," Dobby said, sulking, and then disappeared.
Mrs. Greengrass almost dragged Astoria out of the room, and Lucius hurried away to the Great Hall with Draco following on his heels. Only Narcissa and Daphne remained in the room, one on her side, the other standing at the foot of her bed, looking at her oddly.
"Can't you heal it with magic, mother?" Darcie asked. "Why trouble a Healer for a headache?"
Narcissa smiled and then told her what had happened after her fall. "Severus told us to get you checked for any mind-related problem, as uncontrolled magic affects children the most," she explained. "A specialized Healer is a must in your case, and we won't have anyone but the best for you. Don't worry."
Narcissa nodded. "Mr. Jaxson Warris, Head of the Mind Healers in the Hospital," she said. "A very skilled Legilimens."
Legilimens, Darcie repeated, the odd beating of her heart returned.
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