Secrets and Masks

74. Epilogue one

Three years later

"How do you think you've been coping since we last saw each other?"

"Fine."

"Has anything happened that you think you ought to mention?"

"No."

"No? Anything negative? No drawbacks or things that have caused you stress that you want to discuss?"

"Nope," Daphne answered, her lips popping loudly on the P. "Not a thing."

"Have you completed the homework that I set you after our last session?"

"Yes."

"And?" the middle-aged healer asked, her eyes on the notepad in her lap as she scribbled away.

"It was ... eye-opening," Daphne answered. Unbothered. Unaffected. Fake.

"And did it help?"

"Yes," Daphne lied.

"Good," the healer responded without looking up. "In what way did it help?"

"It helped me sleep better," she lied again, lied through her fucking fake smile and quiet demeanour. Oh, when, when would this be over?! While the healer's eyes were still down, Daphne sneaked a glance at the grandfather clock near the East window.

14:03, just twenty-seven minutes left. She could get through that, couldn't she?

"And the nightmares?" the healer went on. "How have they been?"

"Fine."

"Describe what you mean by fine?"

"They've been non-existent."

It appeared that was one lie too many. The healer's eye's snapped up and she studied her victi - patient - carefully through her finger-smudged glasses.

Court-appointed, compulsory, mind healing therapy - wasn't that the joke of the century.

Astoria told Daphne that she shouldn't be so angry about it because she wasn't going through it alone. She, Blaise and Theo had all had to stand trial after the war, and although their heroics towards the end - and the success of Medusa - had saved them from the Dementors Kiss - they didn't get off entirely.

They'd done too much, that was how it was phrased. They'd committed too many war crimes and all of them were very public figures in Voldemort's army. They couldn't come out the other side smelling of roses, no matter how much they'd helped bring down the Death Eaters regime.

Because she'd been the mastermind behind Medusa and hadn't really committed any crimes, Astoria was spared, rightly so, but the rest of the family did not get off so lightly, and as penance for their crimes, the three of them had been ordered to see a Mind Healer for one hour a month, every month, until the day they died.

"Although we appreciate the pivotal part the three of them played during the final months of the war, nothing is more paramount than the safety of those the war has left behind," the new Minister for Magic had announced to the crowd after their hearing. She was a Muggleborn witch, elected to unite the magical and muggle societies in this new world and bla bla bla bla bla. Daphne had no intention of learning her name, she didn't like her. Could just think about how much better job Hermione would have done if she'd still have been here. "We thank the three of them for their efforts, but I am sure that everyone agrees with me when I say that in order to protect the future, we must not ignore the past, and therefore, the three of them will be observed and monitored closely, for the protection of the public."

For the protection of the public, what a crock of old shit. They weren't wild animals. They weren't a pack of savage, unpredictable beasts who might snap at any moment. They hadn't wanted to do any of the awful things that they'd done during the war but they hadn't had a choice. They'd done what they had to do to survive. They weren't a danger to anyone anymore.