On the far horizon, beyond her line of sight, the sun slowly sunk into the sea coloring the whole sky crimson and tangerine. The whisper of the ocean and the wind blew softly into her ear and the seagulls wailed along with this melody off-tune. From her vantage point, she could see the sea-castle and hear the call to prayer bellowed loudly from the top of a nearby mosque. Consequently, as it was nearly the end of the day, the men in harbour talked and laughed loudly, leaving their ships to float lonesomely along the coast line.

Below her, in the streets, the smells from the numerous bakeries that lined the bazar came out from chimneys, filling her senses with a sickly sweetness. The blaring chatter from the women browsing the stands echoed upwards, falling deaf on her ears for she could not understand them. Along with it came the sounds of children playing joyfully, in addition to the occasional lecture from irritated shopkeepers.


All of the sensations were too much in order for her to concentrate. Nor could she imagine any other British wizard or witch that would respond comfortably to being surrounded by so many Muggles. Unfortunately, her teacher seemed to have noticed her scattered focus.


A scowl appeared on his bearded face, and he sighed irritatedly. He rubbed his face with disappointment.


‘Miss Greengrass!’ His voice bellowed.


‘Sorry Professor. Please forgive me, I find it hard to fixate my mind when I there are a lot of Muggles around.’


If his expression were any indication, she had given him the wrong answer. Being that the crease between his eyebrows had formed, she had contributed to further souring his mood.


‘Preposterous. It’s just me and you on this rooftop, the Muggles are down the street. How do you intend to ‘fixate your mind’ when you are in an emergency and must defend yourself?’


Because Daphne had no answer to his question, she chose to remain silent and hung her head in shame. Additionally, she fought back the tears that threatened to come and would surely disgrace her further.


Consequently, her instructor seemed torn between yelling at her again and apologizing. He chose to do neither.


With a tone of finality and chagrin he closed the session. ‘It is late, the session is at its end. I expect you to practise by yourself and show some improvement tomorrow.’


‘Of course professor!’ Daphne said in a shrill voice. ‘I will do better.’


‘Very well..’ He cast his gaze upon the city skyline, as its vibrant colors announced the end of the diurnal rotation. The call to prayer had finally finished, and the city began to quiet down as its people returned to their homes. For a moment, no words were shared between them as he was deep in thought and she was silently thankful the lesson had finished.


‘Miss Greengrass, are you afraid of Muggles?’ He inquired.


‘No!’ She exclaimed, earning a raised eyebrow. ‘Pardon me, no professor, I am not. They merely make me feel irritated.’


‘I see. If they disrupt your focus as such, it should be remedied.’ A small shrewd grin that appeared on his face filled Daphne with a deep uneasiness. ‘Today, rather than apparating, we will walk back to the academy through the souk. I believe this would serve to confront your trouble.’


Leaving absolutely no room for argument, he turned his heel and dashed down the stairs. Daphne hurried after him and wondered once again how she’d let her father convince her into traveling there.


‘It is time you broaden your perspective. Dumbledore has let the standard for defensive magic sink to an abboniable level during your time at Hogwarts.’


Before they chanced the streets, he looked back at her and saw the sheer look of terror in her eyes. He stopped abruptly. ‘Would you like to hold my hand?’ He said mockingly.


Furious at being reduced to a child, and embarrassed for feeling like one, she answered in a small voice. ‘Yes..’


‘As you wish.’ He held out his hand and she took it with apprehension.


‘But father, I’d miss out on the season in London! If I miss it now, I won’t be able to debut for another year.’


Conversely to what she had expected, the magical pure-blood elite in Lebanon weren’t as disgusted with Muggles as their British counterparts. The professor knew the Muggle labyrinth named the souk like the back of his own hand, she was sure. They walked through a barely lit cavern populated mostly by stray cats and bags of trash towards a more populous street that shone like a bright colorful lantern at the end of a dark tunnel.


‘Knowing how to defend yourself is more important than wearing frilly dresses and drinking overpriced elf wine!’


The nearer they came to the avenue, the harder it became for Daphne not to start shaking. Taking Daphne by surprise, a Muggle on an electric motorcycle sped past them. It took a lot of her willpower not to pull out her wand and curse him.


‘However will I ever find a good match if all other girls my age debut before I do?’


Suddenly, her professor stopped, almost causing her to slam into him. As a way of reassuring her, he put both his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye.


‘Now is not the time to worry about marriage! This country is on the brink of war.’


‘Miss Greengrass, Muggles are not intimidating. They are dull and harmless. Take a deep breath.’


She did as he bid her. Although she thought nothing could help her through the humiliation of being forced to walk through a Muggle city, his consoling words and the deep amber of his eyes made it somewhat more bearable.


Prior to entering the market, he held out his hand once more and she took it gratefully.


‘Mother says I must always think of marriage. What will she say when she hears of your plans?’


Much like she expected, the Muggles in their shops ignored them as his notice-me-not charm took effect. A busily talking group of women wearing silk-embroidered headscarves nearly ran into them, the professor narrowly avoiding them.


‘I will handle your mother. You just have to focus on your studies.’


Mistakenly, she looked up from the cobbles of the street for the briefest of moments to see an animal carcass gruelly dangling from a rusty iron hook.


‘What is Merlin's name is that?!’ She shrieked with audible disgust.


With a visible lack of interest, the professor turned his head to look in her direction.


‘A butcher. It’s where Muggle’s buy the meat they consume.’


‘Revolting.’


Hardly ten minutes had passed, and she started to recognize the street the academy was on. Knowing that it had been such a short walk, she felt embarrassed for having made such a fuss about it. Ignoring the sign that requests visitors ring the bell, the professor walked through the gate and right up the staircase. Rather than using his staff, he tapped his hand on the door.


In response, it changed shape, size and color, and swung open of its own accord.


‘We have arrived. I trust you can see yourself to your own quarters without needing any hand-holding.’ He snickered at his own joke and Daphne felt her blood boil. Noticing her reaction, he stopped laughing and regarded her seriously once more. ‘I trust you to understand this perplexing fear of yours is a weakness you need to work on.’


Feeling thoroughly chastised, Daphne answered him. ‘Yes Professor.’


‘Good. See to it that you do. Perhaps a homework assignment would be appropriate.. Walk from the academy to the beach and back every single day, without using magic.’


In response, Daphne sucked in a breath loudly, shocked that he would ask such a thing of her.


‘If this idea strikes such anxiety into you, feel free to ask another student to accompany you. I’m certain our male students would be delighted to hold your hand the entire way.’ He disappeared into the academy entrance laughing loudly and Daphne felt as angry as a blast-ended skrewt.


Even though this sort of behavior would surely have warranted a letter to her father at Hogwarts, she had no doubt in her mind it would only earn her more ridicule from her professor. Both her and her mother had been surprised at his sudden bout of pragmatism putting her education before her chance at marriage.


Exasperated, she dragged herself to her dorm as gracefully as she could manage. Luckily, at Debbane, she only had to share her room with one other person. Dumbledore’s absurd policies had prevented her from enjoying the full luxury of being a pure-blood heiress at Hogwarts. The headmistress of Debbane, however, was glad to take her fathers money and give Daphne privileges and benefits over other students. For this reason, Professor Muhaffiz gave her private lessons.


Several hours later, when Daphne was well into her beauty sleep, her roommate Hanan stumbled into the dorm, clumsy as a bear.


‘Kss!’


‘Pardon me?’ Daphne rubbed her eyes tiredly.


‘Sorry! I thought your were asleep.’


‘I was until you came barging in.’


Hanan streched and plopped down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. No sound was heard, apart from the barking of a dog in the distance.


‘It’s okay, I’m not upset.’ Daphne said bashfully. ‘My lesson was very tiresome today.’


Clearly lacking the energy to get up, Hanan rolled over in Daphne’s direction. ‘How so?’


‘Muhaffiz made walk through the souk to get back to the academy today. I was scared, so he held my hand the entire way and made fun of me for it afterwards.’


A cackling laugh came from Hanan.


‘Not you too!’


Fumbling, Hanan got up and sat down next to Daphne’s bed. ‘Silly English girl. Do you know how many female students here would kill, and I mean kill, to hold Muhaffiz’ hand?’


Briefly, Hanan rested her head against the edge of Daphne’s bed and seemed to drift off into a daydream.


‘He’s so handsome, and rich too. Even if he asked be to be his fiftieth wife I wouldn’t turn him down..’ She made a kissy face and Daphne grimaced in disgust.


‘Hanan, please. Have some more respect for yourself.’


Gravely offended she huffed. ‘Easy for you to say. I bet you have a hundred suitors back in Britain. A girl like me has to fight for scraps.’


Determining not to be messed with again, Daphne sat up and looked at her. ‘That’s not true at all! Because I’m missing the season all the good ones will be gone when I get back!’ Remembering this tragedy, Daphne put her face in her hands. ‘Once I debut next year, it’ll just be the old and ugly ones left..’


Tears came in earnest and Daphne felt incredibly humiliated for the second time that day. The harder she tried to stop crying, the more volumunous the tears leaked out.


Obviously feeling guilty, Hanan sat down next to her and rubbed her back. ‘There there, don’t cry, it’ll be alright..’


The atmosphere became increasingly awkward as Daphne couldn’t stop crying and Hanan consoled her half-heartedly.


‘You know what, I think the French Magical Ambassy is hosting a ball on Sunday. I’m sure you could get us iniviations, right? Maybe you can meet your suitor there.’


This roused Daphne to raise her tearstreaked face out of her hands. It would be nice to be back in an environment that she felt confident in and was familiar with. Or, at the very least, where other witches were just as repulsed by Muggles as she was. Who would surely agree with her how wrong it was for a lady of her statue to be forced to mingle with them and be exposed to their filth.


‘But... How would we get there? Debbane doesn’t allow its students to use the floo.’


‘We take a bus.’


Miserable, Daphne pressed her face into her pillow.


‘Daphne, come on. Do you want to go this ball or not? I’ll be with you in the bus, I’ll promise you it’s not as terrible as you think.’


Frustrated, Daphne debated whether this sacrifice was worth it, but she so longed to attend those parties again.


‘Okay, fine. I’ll write my father to get us invitations.’


With a smile like a siren, Hanan got up and twirled in the middle of the room. Daphne snickered and joined her. They waltzed together like school children and laughed.


‘You better watch out Greengrass, I’ll make every Englishman fall for me.’


A haughty laugh escaped from Daphne. ‘I doubt you could put up with English boys for very long.’


When she went to sleep that night, she felt much better, knowing she would soon be among her own again. However, before she could surrender herself to sleep, she heard her fathers words echo in her mind.


‘This country is on the brink of war!’ He snarled again, effectively scaring her into silence.



The dim light in his study accentuated the deep creases in his forehead, and the grey hairs around his crown that she hadn’t noticed before. Curiously, she wondered how long they had been there, and what else she had missed while she had been away at Hogwarts.



Common sense dictated she accept his verdict and not argue with him further, nevertheless, she felt robbed and betrayed. She had been trained for her debut her whole life, and now he was suddenly telling her it was no longer important.



‘What does that have to do with us?’ She muttered.



Furious at her for her backchat, he looked at her through narrowed eyelids.

‘What did you say?’ He said in a threatening tone.



‘What does the war have to do with us?! We’re purebloods!’



With a loud thump he slammed his hands on his desk. ‘Get out of my sight! You’re going away and that’s final.’



For the hundredth time, she replayed the scene in her head. As far as motives went, she was clueless to her fathers’. Initially, she’d thought they all were in trouble, however, in that case it didn’t make sense that he’d only sent her away.


Additionally, no pureblood father with a healthy functional brain would send away his eldest daughter during her first year as a debutante. It was social suicide.


And the cherry on top of the terrible pie was that he’d sent her away so far. With Paris, Milan, Barcelona or even Athens she’d have voiced no objections. In Saida, Lebanon, she knew nobody, so she was nobody. It was truly a detestable fate.


Mulling over the unfairness of it all, she slowly drifted off to sleep.


Sunday morning, she woke up with a pit of apprehension in her stomach when she saw the Muggle-garb Hanan had layed out for them.


She slid out of bed and examined the strange apparel Muggles considered clothing. Already awake, Hanan entered the dorm and saw Daphne’s look of dread.


‘Look, we can’t go into a Muggle bus in robes.’


Daphne let out a dramatic sigh. ‘I suppose it must be done.’ She swallowed and touched the fabric with trepidation, and wore the expression of a martyr.


Roughly twenty minutes later, they descended the steps of the stairwell of the academy that lead toward the street. Without saying a word, Hanan grabbed Daphne’s arm and they walked in the direction of the coastline. All the shops, sounds and impression passed in a flash. A small Muggle boy spoke to them and followed them for a while. It made Daphne slightly nervous, nevertheless, after Hanan spoke a few words to him in Arabic he ran off.


‘You’re quite the attraction. People are curious.’ Hanan said with a smile.


‘Too bad we can’t use a notice-me-not charm..’


‘It’s not so awful. We’ll walk past the coastline, it’s much quieter.’


When they reached the end of the souk, Daphne was thankful to see Hanan was right. On road in front of them, cars, busses, and what appeared to be a crossover sped by every now and again with bright color and noise. Situated on the pavement were a row of restaurants and other establishments, that had terraces covered by see-through plastic tents. In the far distance the harbour was separated from the beach by the sea castle.


The moment Hanan let go of her arm, Daphne took a breath to steady herself.


‘From here it’ll be fifteen minutes to the busstation.’


They walked in a companionable silence. Every now and again, Daphne’s attention was caught by some of the excentries on display in the many shops and stands.

Dryly Hanan had remarked that it was all crap for the tourists – whatever that meant. The Muggles in the city were an industries lot. At surface level, their interests all seemed rather pedestrian to Daphne. Nevertheless, she remembered that they had to toil and suffer more because of their lack of magic. Although she supposed they did not know they were lacking it, which was an interesting line of thought to follow.


At long last, they arrived at the busstation. Hanan took hold of Daphne’s arm again, a little more gently this time, and led her to a small bus that would fit about twelve people in Daphne’s estimation. Not many words were wasted with the chauffeur, and soon they were seated in the back of the bus.


‘So what now?’ Daphne inquired.


‘Now we wait until the bus fills up and leaves.’


‘That doesn’t seem practical.’ Daphne deducted. ‘Is all Muggle transport like this?’


‘I’m not sure.. Not in Lebanon in any case. I suppose you wouldn’t know about Britain.’


Begrudingly, she admitted to herself that she really didn’t know. Regardless of the fact that she had no desire whatoever to ever ride any Muggle transportation in Britian, she still felt a tiny bit ashamed that she didn’t know such basic information about her own culture.


It was quite surprising how fast the bus was packed with Muggles. The estimation that Daphne had made about the amount of people that fit in the bus had not been incorrect, nevertheless, she had not accounted for the fact that the chauffeur would put as many people as possible into it.


When the last person had been stuffed into the front row, the chauffeur climbed into the drivers seat and turned on the engine. As magical transportation was mostly silent, Daphne found the bus to be very noisy. The bus took to the road, and in spite of Daphne’s hate for anything she considered to be below her standing, the sensation was not all together unpleasant.


Guiltily, Daphne marveled at the coastline as the bus sped over a long winding road.


‘After we arrive in Beirut, we’ll catch a taxi to the centre and go to the entrance of Laodicea.’ Hanan whispered in her ear.


‘Good. What’s a taxi?’ She asked.


‘It’s like a bus, but smaller, and there are no other people in it.’


‘Sounds much better than this.’ Daphne sighed, feeling relieved.


The view outside made the trip alltogether much more manageable. A little voice in the back of Daphne’s head said it wasn’t a bad experience to have. In like manner, it was nice to be reminded of the fact that the ways of wizarding kind was far superior to what Muggles had managed to cook up. Perhaps, years ahead in the future, when she was married with children of her own, she could tell this story as a fun little anecdote at soirées.


Before she realized it, they had arrived at a Beirut busstation, a wild cacaphony of motor vehicles, vendors and chauffeurs yelling place names. Momentarily, Daphne was stunned by all the activity going on around her.


Hanan yanked her out of the bus and paid the chauffeur. ‘Come on, we have to go stop a taxi.’


The busstation was surrounded by several buildings that were all as tall as Hogwarts. Above the station ran some sort of bridge, which Daphne guessed was also for cars. Numerous stores were housed in the ground floor of these tall buildings. The majority of these appeared to be cafés, patronized by groups of men drinking coffee. All kinds of Muggles passed by, walking hurriedly on the pavement.


During the brief time that she had spent in Lebanon, she had considered the souk of Saida busy. Often she was awoken by its noises and she found it distracting during training. Daphne now realized that she had seen nothing yet. The crossing at which they currently stood contained more people on a quiet Sunday than the souk saw the entire week.


‘Daphne? Hello? Are you still in there? I said we have to go stop a taxi.’


‘Right, lead the way.’ As Hanan lead them onwards, Daphne clutched her arm tightly.


After exchanging a few words with a chauffeur, Daphne was ushered into a car that was much nicer than the bus they had been in previously. The chauffeur, however, seemed to have a lot less regard for other traffic and drove to their destination very fast.


The entire city consisted of buildings the same height, or three times as tall as Hogwarts. There were people on every street, going about their daily business or taking leisure time. On the way to their stop they passed stores with all varieties of goods. Many of which Daphne had no idea what they were, or what purpose they served. In the souk Daphne had hardly ever seen a woman without a veil, but in Beirut women wore many styles of dress.


Once they had passed underneath a bridge meant for cars, they exited the vehicle.


‘We’ll go the rest of the way on foot, just to be sure.’


It appeared they had arrived to the city centre. Curiously, this part of the town had no tall buildings. Instead french terraced houses stood statesquely on cobbeled streets. At a particular building, Hanan tapped the wood of a window frame, much like Muhaffiz had done at the academy. A miniscule door appeared suspended in the middle of the window.


Hanan grabbed Daphne’s hand and pulled her own arm into the small door. Suddenly, they were sucked in and booted out in a near identical street occupied by witches and wizards.


‘Welcome to Laodicea!’ Hanan said and smiled proudly.


Where as the same street in the Muggle Beirut had been very quiet, the street in Laodicea was busy and scenic. The sand colored French terraced houses encompassed various emporiums that sold all kinds of wizarding goods. Between the rows of houses were large ottoman style villa’s in delicate colors with lots of glass. All the streets came out into a large square where several ministry buildings and embassies were located. The largest building, which no doubt belonged to the Lebanese Ministry of Magic, seemed to consist of mix-matched elements Daphne had seen in mosques and churches.


It struck Daphne how much larger it was than Diagon Alley. This town was perhaps the largest wizarding-only community she had ever seen. The arguments that had been held in Slytherin house between the children of Voldemorts supporters and his opposers had always been about the costs of war. Those who claimed the spilling of any magical blood was to great a price for pureblood supremacy were always accused of being cowards. Seeing a magical community unmarred by conflict was grating to see, and it made her understand the arguments of peers that she had ridiculed.


She breathed in the air and felt her hair stand on end. ‘It’s stunning.’


‘We have a few more hours until the ball starts, so I suggest we should get changed and go shopping!’


The rest of the afternoon passed in a flash. Spending pounds on luxurious robes and cosmetics was an activity that Daphne was initmately familiar with. She’d shared many afternoons in Diagon Alley and Place Cachée with her friends splurging on items that surely would earn her a scolding or two from her father later.


As dusk approached, Daphne and Hanan powdered their noses and sewed themselves into their festive robes in a café bathroom. If her mother were to see her, Daphne mused, she surely would have been deeply ashamed of her daughter. Only paupers dressed themselves, her mother had always told her.


At the French Embassy entrance, a guard greeted them and opened the gate doors. The embassy itself was a multi-story villa with a large veranda and several balconies, surrounded by greenery. Before they entered, a footman announced them.


‘Miss Greengrass of England and Miss Al-Amin of Egypt!’


‘I could get used to this.’ Daphne whispered in Hanan’s ear.


‘I see no reason for us not to do this every weekend.’ Hanan whispered back with a crooked grin.


By the same token, attending a forgein ball was both exhilerating and frightening. In England, she knew the name and face of every guest attending any given party in London. The notion of being forced to socialize was challenging yet exciting.


Quickly she scanned the room, and spotted two of her fathers associates and their sons. She poked Hanan in the ribs. ‘I know those men, come on.’


When they walked through the ballroom, the man she’d wanted to talk to her stopped them of his own accord and greeted them.


‘Miss Greengrass, how do you do?’ Respectfully, she curtsied.


‘Mister Jäger, sir. A pleasure to see you again. This is Miss Hanan Al-Amin, a friend of mine.’


‘Miss Al-Amin, pleased to make your aquintance. These are my sons, Hans and Lukas.’


Both men bowed respectfully. Daphne smiled inwardly. The interaction was going swimmingly.


A buldering laugh came from the oldest Jäger. ‘Forgive my sons for being shy in the company of two beautiful girls.’ As the man slapped his sons on the back, the orchestra started playing the first waltz. ‘How about a dance with the ladies?’


Hans took her outstreched hand and off they went.



‘You must excuse my father.’ He whispered in her ear while she twirled and spun back.


‘Of course.’ She smiled benevolently. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine herself back in London dancing with Theodore Nott.


While the waltz came to a close, she bowed and winked at Hans. ‘Thank you.’


‘Perhaps we can also dance this next suite?’ He asked hopefully.


In response, she curstied again. ‘I’d be honored to.’


The evening could not have been more perfect if she’d planned it herself. Spinning around the ballroom of the Embassy, she was on cloud nine.


‘Miss Greengrass! What a surprise.’ The moment she heard his voice, she sunk back to earth and cursed her luck.


‘Professor.. How do you do?’ She seperated herself from Hans unwillingly to shake his hand.


‘Quite well, thank you. Sir, do you mind if I have a short conversation with my student?’


Even though his expression read no, he excused himself. Daphne was dissapointed by his lack of spine. Without exchaning any words, he grabbed her by her elbow and dragged her out onto the balcony.


In spite of herself, she snatched her arm away from him with anger. ‘Pardon me?! What have I done to warrant such treatment?’


Idignantly, Professor Muhaffiz huffed. ‘You have some nerve speaking to me like that after breaking school rules!’


Daphne was taken aback. ‘What school rules do you presume I’ve broken?’


‘Students are not allowed to use the floo! Which office did you break into?’


With a proud smile, Daphne calmly contradicted him. ‘I have done no such thing. I took a Muggle bus to get here.’


The professor shot her a snide, sarcastic look. ‘Miss Greengrass, lying is not your forte. Nevertheless, I will be lenient and allow you to attend the rest of the ball. However, rest assured, there will be consequences.’


Angryly, Daphne tapped her foot. ‘I’m not lying! I came here with Hanan. If we go inside, I will ask her, and she will confirm my story.’


‘Well, making others lie for you is very unbecoming.’


‘I’m telling you I’m not!’


‘We will settle the matter later. But believe me, the ramifications will be severe.’


Daphne felt incredibly frustrated as they went back into the ballroom together. Although there was no doubt in her mind he would see the truth in the end, it saddend her that he had such a low impression of her. Even so, she had not shown her absolute best during her lessons, so she understood his point of view.

Once they entered the ballroom again, Hanan immediately hurried towards them and spoke to Daphne in a low voice. Her expression indicated panic.


‘There are supicious men asking after you. We should go as soon as possible.’


‘Miss Al-Amin, there is nothing to be afraid of.’ The professor replied cooly. ‘No person of ill repute would be allowed inside the Embassy.’


Regardless of the professors’ words, Daphne scanned the room to look for the men Hanan was afraid of. Headed in their direction were a group of four men wearing auror robes. It puzzeled Daphne. Why would British aurors come all this way to question her of all people?


Before she had the opportunity to ask the professor if he could apparate them out of the room, one of the burly looking men stood in front of them.


‘Daphne Greengrass, you are under arrest for conspiring against the ministry.’


In reply, her eyes nearly popped out of her skull. In the fraction of a second the whole company had their wands drawn.


‘I’ve done no such thing!’ The biggest of the bunch leveled his wand at her face. The professor moved in front of her.


‘Take it up with the ministry. She’s coming with us.’


It all happened in the blink of an eye. Daphne stunned the one that had his wand pointed at her, yet his cronies were slow to respond. Hanan stunned another one, and the professor bound the third one in ropes. At the back of the room, guards employed by the Embassy had taken notice and were shoving people out of the way to make their way towards them.


The professor grabbed both of them and apparated away. Unable to make a stable landing, she fell forward and realized they were on the beach. Muddish sand stained her dress and her tears mixed with the crashing sea. In desperation she cried out. No other people were around, and her sobs became nothing as the darkness of the night swallowed them. The moonlight illuminated the sea and the stars hung unblinkingly.


With a sigh, Hanan dropped down next to her and pulled her into a hug.


Behind her, the professor muttered several incantations. A large umbrella of spellwork surrounded them and he put his hand on her shoulder.


After all her wondering she finally had her answer. Her father had sent her away to protect her. Without regard for his own safety or his own interest. Or even the families’ interest.


For the first time in her entire life, her future was uncertain.

 

Technical

This is probably the weakest aspect of this story for me. There are a bunch of errors I noticed reading through this such as:

1) Speech Tag / Dialogue Beat mix-ups
2) Spelling Errors
3) Random Capitalization

The incessant capitalization of Muggle just pissed me off and made me drop this from a 3/5 to a 2/5. All of it gives this story an unpolished feel and made it harder for me to read than it should have. The use of ' instead of " for dialogue also annoyed me. While it is not technically incorrect, it doesn't translate particularly well into the internet story format (alongside paragraph indentations).

Things like this too were jarring. You should always group words and actions of a character together, or at the very least NEVER mix the actions of one character with the dialogue of another. This almost reads like Daphne is speaking to another girl for a moment and made me reread just to make sure I had it right in my head. As a rule of thumb, ANYTHING that makes your reader do so is by definition bad writing practice.

Stylistic

This is where you really shined for me. You have a way with words and executing on prose / description that works really well in selling the setting to me without being overtly descriptive. It never becomes too purple either, and that's a hard balance to strike. There are places where this could have been better (adjectives or adverbs that weren't needed) or not trusting your reader enough, but otherwise I quite liked what you did here, execution wise.

The interspersion of her convo with her father as well as the normal scene I think was poorly handled. In general, I don't think interspersing two scenes works very well in the written narrative, although I kinda get why people do it because movies and tvs do so all the time. It's a problem of not reflecting well in the medium, and too date I've never seen an example of it working well. If you want a flashback, have something trigger her memory, but don't chop it up itty bitty then mix it into the stew.

Developmental

So with one point against you, and one point for you, it falls to this tiebreaker.

Unfortunately, you failed massively in this regard. While Daphne starts off well characterized as an unlikable, prissy, spoiled brat with a fear of muggles, it never really moves past that? There's no big AHA moment for this. I feel like you went into this wanting to show the relationship with her dad and Daphne realizing what a brat she was being, but instead the story comes off as her trying to get over her fear of muggles and so your ending falls flat.

2/5.