Harry Potter and the Gift of Memories [Harry Potter Fan Fiction]

Chapter XXXVII: Christmas, Part II

 As sunlight streamed in through the window to her bedroom, Daphne Greengrass opened her eyes and observed her surroundings with an attentiveness that made it seem as if she had not been sleeping at all. It was the price that came with the training she had received at the hands of her father. She was always alert, always ready in case the man whose blood ran through her veins came to wake her up at the crack of dawn for more training.

Seeing no one in her room, she slowly sat up and looked out the window. The sun was just now beginning to rise, slowly peaking out from behind the horizon and forest surrounding the Greengrass manor. Light pinks and orange hues were cast amongst the sky and sparse sprinkling of clouds, creating a beautiful panoramic scene that many master painters would pay an arm and leg to capture.

Daphne turned away from the view without a second thought. Her bare feet hit soft carpetas she began walking toward the bathroom with light, graceful steps, just as one would expect from a proper pureblood woman.

Like all parts of the Greengrass manor, her private bathroom was luxurious. Marble tiling, a beautifully crafted tub and shower combination, and a glass chandelier above. The gold used in the bathrooms creation caused beautiful refractions across the room as the light from the chandelier hit it, and the mirror near the black marble sink was decorated with many precious gems.

Daphne hated all of it. Hated the pomp and circumstance, the wealth, and the need for her father to show off his wealth even when nobody else would see this room but her.

She didn't even know why he bothered, considering he wasn't even really her father. Not anymore. Not since her mother died giving childbirth to her stillborn brother.

None of the disgust she felt at her extravagant surroundings, nor the sadness she still felt from her mother's death showed on her expressionless face as she stripped off the pale, silk nightgown and knickers she had worn to bed.

She went over to the shower and turned it on, stepping in without a thought. Cold water blasted her for a second, before the heating charms warmed it up. Soon, a thick steam covered the room in its white vapor, and Daphne began to wash herself.

She did not bother to rush, nor did she take an exorbitant amount of time. Like everything else she did, she was methodical, thorough, and economical in cleaning herself.

After she finished her shower, she stepped out and dried herself off with a towel. She grabbed another towel and wrapped it around her head in order to keep her hair out of her face, then grabbed a thick bathrobe and put it on. After that she would begin the process of drying and combing her hair. She did not put on any make up, she never did, even though her father had hired someone who taught her how to properly apply it.

Once finished with her morning ritual, she dressed herself in a pair of fine robes of a dark green that traveled down to her ankles, and made her way out of the bedroom.

Daphne did not need to walk very far to reach her first destination of the day. Her sister's room stood right across the hall from hers. She stepped up to it and gently opened the door, being careful not to let it open too loudly.

Astoria's room was much different than hers. It had the same extravagance, but unlike her room, which was spartan and bare, her sisters room had all kinds of animals and toys that littered the corners, dresser, and bed.

Daphne walked swiftly over to the large queen-sized bed located at the opposite end of the room. Her sister, who looked almost like a clone of Daphne except with hair a shade darker, was fast asleep, her mouth slightly parted as she breathed through it.

A change took place in Daphne as she watched her sister sleep. Her eyes softened, her lips curved into a gentle smile, and a strange glow seemed to emanate from within her. It was a look few people had ever seen on her, and one that few people ever would see. She could count the number of people who had seen her like this on one hand and still have more than half her fingers left over.