Harry Potter Fanfiction Daphne Sees Harry's Scars Novels & Stories

It was there, too, in the way her smile did not reach her eyes when she smiled at the memory, and in the way it faded when Damian's voice turned towards her. I saw it when she stood close to me and I took in a close whiff of her perfume with my nostrils, feeling the scent tickling my entirety. I saw it in the red bruise on her cheek when she leaned close to serve my tea, a colour well and artfully hidden by some make up and blush, but clearly seen by me.

It sounded oddly like whimpers. Standing before the two headstones, I felt nothing but calm. Just as I was lost in thought, a flash caught my eye. With startling speed, a knife came slashing toward me. I widened my eyes. It was too quick for me to react. Just as the knife was about to plunge into me, a figure leapt out of the shadows. A Damascus dagger batted away the attack. My attacker stumbled. I was yanked behind my protector. It was Quentin. He said lowly, "I knew that I must've missed out on a few people, no matter how detailed I had been in getting rid of them. How could I really let you come to somewhere like this alone?"

Both of them wore hard, envious expressions that sent a chill crawling up my arms. Without a moment's hesitation, Daphne strode towards me, her eyes glowing with fury. She raised her hand and unleashed a slap across my cheek, the sound echoing in the chamber. The pain seared through my face, leaving a stinging sensation behind. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I fought the urge to let them fall. I'd learned long ago that showing weakness would only invite further torment.

Daphne could have torn apart the table we were sitting at with her bare hands and not even break a nail doing it. Valkyries also had magic, hence al the sparks flickering around us and in other spots in the dining hal where the girls were sitting. Every time Daphne's French-manicured nails scraped against something or she got particularly emotional, little princess pink sparks would shoot off her fingertips and fil the air. Daphne had once told me that her fingers were like sparklers on the Fourth of July. I didn't mind the cracks and flashes of color, though. Sitting next to her was like being close to a rainbow. Wel , if rainbows were solid pink. And volatile. Sometimes Daphne's temper fla

Chapter 04. A JOURNEY BACK HOME. Daphne's POV. I gasped, breathing heavily. I glanced at my hands, and then to the clothes I was putting on. There were a few bruises on my hands, and blood stains on the brown knee-length jacket that I was putting on. I blinked my eyes rapidly in confusing as I stared at my palms, something wasn't right. As I turned to the side mirror, my heart sank. I was seeing a different face on the side mirror: purple hair, brown eyes, and a nose ring.

A sharp huff, like a burst of air, cut through the night, and my eyes snapped open, my heart pounding so fast and brutal. I blinked, disoriented, and there he was, Alex, standing over me, his dark hair wild, his eyes glowing a fierce red in the darkness. Relief crashed into me, tangled with fear, as I followed his gaze. Daphne lay sprawled a few feet away, her red hair splayed in the mud, but she was already scrambling to her feet, brushing herself off with a scowl.

Harper wiped a tear from her own face and hugged me tightly. “Why are you crying, silly girl?” I asked softly. “I’m so happy, Daphne,” she said, her voice catching. “You’ve gone through so much in this pack. You’ve been pushed down, judged, almost lost everything, and now…” she trailed off, overwhelmed with emotion. She held me closer. “I’ve always been your number one fan, Daphne. I always will be,” she whispered. I laughed softly and hugged her back. “I know, Harper. You’re my second love after Theo, obviously,” I teased, making her giggle. The other ladies laughed along, and for a moment, the tension in the room eased.

Damon would kill me if I let anything happen to you. The way she said it made my heart skip. Like I was important. Like I mattered. "Why does he care so much?" I asked quietly. Daphne looked at me strangely. "You really don't know?" "Know what?" She opened her mouth to answer, but then we heard it. Fighting. Right outside the door. "Get behind me," Daphne ordered, moving between me and the door. "Daphne, you're a healer, not a fighter…" "I am many things," she said, and something in her voice had changed. Gotten harder… if not Scarier.

he insisted. “Daphne first.” He helped me out of the room, and soon Ana and Daphne came running, finding us. Daphne let out a scream before rushing over to me, examining my injuries and asking what had happened over and over. “I’m okay,” I promised. “Okay? Look at you!” she exclaimed. “Let’s get him to the hospital wing,” Roman interjected. “Yes! Right now!” Daphne urged. “Oh, don’t you want another dance before we go?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.