The Master of the house was pacing, his black velvet robes tracing the floor with its hem. An eerily green fire was burning in the hearth, and Draco was obviously obsessive about something; Daphne should be about any time, and Draco intended to hear her perspective on the matter vexing him. He had been drinking, but apparently couldn't handle much, since half a bottle of wine rested precariously upon the mantle. Draco was muttering to himself, trying to work something out - and it didn't sound good.
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Daphne's entrance to the house was obvious by the sound of her chatting with Triny. "Now, all of the formal winter robes are to be placed in the second closet, the casual in the first, and the sleepwear in the dresser of the first closet. First by color, then by hem, and finally by sleeve length. The outerwear can be in the second on the left hand side. Do have it all done by dinner, Triny."
"Will more boxes be arriving from Milan, Miss Daphne?"
"Those are scheduled to arrive next week. He's doing some minor alterations for me. Now, run along, Triny," she said to her little shopping aide, turning away and heading up the stairs. "Draco, I'm home," she called in the direction of the study.
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Draco rushed toward Daphne, setting his glass down hastily as he moved. "Daphne," he said breathlessly, "I'm glad you're finally home. Sit down." He sounded impatient and eager, but kind considering his mood.
"You're lovely dear," he said quickly, thoughtlessly as he sat down on the nearest overstuffed armchair. "We need to change the Ministry. Forever." His eyes burned like never before.
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Daphne sat down with a small laugh of agreement and folded her arms across her lap. "Of course, the Ministry needs to be changed, Darling. It's needed that for quite some time. I'm only uncertain as to how you think that we could do it," she said supportively. They were rich and influential, but they were not politicians and were assuredly under Ministry watch. Not all of the Ministry could be bought... Not even enough for a controlling vote. If they could, Draco would have been out in a week.
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"Theodore won't do it our way," Draco said in a conspiratorial tone. "We need more...direct action."
Draco stood up again, pacing. He was over-eager to the point of being jittery. "Daphne, we need to do something that FORCES the Ministry to pay close attention."
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"Our way, Darling? I'm not sure of what you're speaking. I certainly hope that forcing the Ministry doesn't entail violence or work with the Death Eaters. We must assume that we are under surveillance and that the aurors would love to have something concrete to put us both away, Draco," Daphne said calmly, the tension gathering in her hands the only visible sign that she was worried. She would not allow him to do something foolish and get him taken from her again. Simply would not allow it. They should be consulting the PR witch. She would know what to do, how to spin this.
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Draco stopped pacing, listening to Daphne. "Daphne," he started, "What would you have me do, considering our situation?"
He halted, gripped her arms gently with both hands, kneading her flesh tenderly. "I daresay I trust your judgement even a bit more than Theodore's."
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Daphne took one of Draco's hands and held it to her cheek, leaning lightly against it. "I would have you tell the whole of wizarding Britain that the Ministry has created itself in such a way that it cannot be challenged by members of the public it ostensibly serves. Take your battle to the press and show them the injustice, the impenetrable shield, that the Ministry uses to falsely imprison, infinitely hold, and otherwise abuse innocent wizards and witches. The system is hopelessly broken. Get the people to rally around reform. Destroy the Ministry's current workings while looking like a champion for wizarding rights. Come out looking like a hero of the people rather than the ghoul they'd have you seem," Daphne said, meeting Draco's eyes, happy to have the chance to tell him her way of doing things.
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Draco laughed coldly; not because he didn't agree with his wife, but because even he knew what a pack of lies it really was.
"Do you consider me 'innocent,' Daphne?" Draco said in a low, icy voice.
He was thinking more of going on a one-man killing spree, and his wife's keen penchant for politics left him feeling inadequate. She would be much better at doing this than him.
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Daphne spoke carefully, considering her words. There was a great deal she wanted to tell Draco, but it had to be done delicately. "I consider you wronged by more than just the Ministry. I have the utmost faith that the crime you committed was done under duress and the nigh irresistable influences of a certain Dark Lady. I know that the Death Eaters considered you a sure recruit from a very young age, that your father supported their assumption, and that he raised you to join them. For all of that, I consider you innocent." Daphne took a deep breath before her next sentence. "Have you the intention of going back to her?"
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"So," Draco started coolly, "you think I didn't have a choice." He stopped, staring at her for a moment. "That's what they all think," he said more softly.
"I hate my idiot Aunt," he blurted out, enraged at unspoken allegations, truths and deceptions that only irritated him on a subconscious level. "I want to do something on my own."
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"Of course you had a choice, everyone has free will. There was a choice, just not much of one. Think of what your father may have done had you decided not to join The Cause," Daphne said, The Cause coming out with more than a hint of scorn.
When she continued, she spoke quickly to avoid being interrupted, "Nearly everyone in your position would have chosen as you did. The important thing now is what you choose to do without familial influences trying to force choices upon you. Now, you have the opportunity not to lose yourself in an impossible goal that leads only to a cell or a mausoleum. Now, you can realize that the only way to meet the goal that the Death Eaters support is to exterminate all muggles, which is both impossible and moronic as they happen to make most of the world run for us. Now, you can turn from The Cause and live your own life. I'm not suggesting any of us has to like Mudbloods. They needn't join us for supper. I'm simply suggesting that a life of violence is a short one, and I'd like to have you with me for quite sometime." As she finished, she took his shoulders in her hands and looked him right in the eye, her own eyes looking rather moist.
"I love you, Draco. I don't want to lose you again. Please, don't go doing anything that might separate us." Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if this wasn't the first time this conversation had happened under this roof.
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Draco embraced Daphne, trying not to cry openly. He spoked only after a very long silence.
"I love you too, Daphne."
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