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Daphne sighed as she strolled through Central Park. Her heart ached as she looked around at the city that had become her home. She left England about a year or so after the Second Wizarding War ended, but the City of Dreams felt like anything but; no matter how friendly and inclusive her coworkers at the American Ministry of Magic were.
She snorted, "The City of Dreams, my arse."
Any dreams she'd had as a child had been shattered the moment her parents disowned her for her decision to remain neutral during the war. Or that's what she'd told her parents; she could only imagine what would have happened if they knew that she had actually helped the Light. It wasn't much, but any amount of help to the "opposition" would have been too much for her father.
She was thankful that both sets of her grandparents had left money for her, and her younger sister too, that no one else in the family could access, so she had something to work with instead of having to start entirely from scratch.
When her family disowned her, she had given a brief thought to reaching out to Astoria. She quickly dismissed it as she knew that her little sister was the perfect pureblood daughter. Daphne did actually reach out to her former housemates, including a few of the older ones and they all gave her the same look of distrust. Not even her old suitor, Adrian, would give her the time of day.
After that, she had reached out to one of the few people on the side of Light she hoped might be of assistance.
Hermione Granger had offered to speak with Harry about joining them at Grimmauld Place, and he agreed. Daphne had only been in the townhome for a little over a week when her third flatmate made his displeasure known at having a snake in their personal space. To keep the peace between the three friends, Daphne offered to move back out. Hermione tried to stop her, but she just smiled at her and said that she would reach out to a cousin in America.
That had been nearly fifteen years ago, and Daphne hadn't been back to England since.
Since then Daphne had settled into her job in personal relations in the Office of Misinformation at MACUSA. The head of her division was planning to retire later that year, and there was already talk that Daphne was going to be tapped as his replacement. She was honoured, but she wasn't sure she was ready for such a commitment.
A voice called out, "On your left!" behind her just before the sound of heavy footsteps running past Daphne pulled her from her thoughts.
She looked up and saw the man she had nicknamed The Runner sprinting away from her. Daphne nodded to him before he turned back around and continued on. Just about every time she was in the park, he was there running lap after lap. He was cute and had an incredible physique, and he'd made eye contact with her multiple times, but that was as far as they'd made it.
A gust of wind swirled around her nearly pulling the envelope from Daphne's hands. She clutched the pieces of parchment tightly and walked towards an empty park bench. Sitting down, she reached for the wax seal.
She had no idea who from wizarding England would be reaching out to her as she hadn't had any contact with anyone from her childhood country since she sent a message back to Hermione letting her know she'd arrived in America safely.
Dear Miss Greengrass,
I know you haven't had any contact with your parents or sister since you left, but I wanted to reach out to you. I'm not sure how much you know of Astoria since you left, but she and I wed in August of 2002. We had a son, Scorpius, less than three years later.
My reason for reaching out to you now is to let you know that Astoria passed away from your family's blood curse a little over a week ago. Astoria did not wish to bother you as she did not know where the two of you stood because of how she treated you all those years ago. And I did not reach out to you sooner out of respect for my wife, but also similar reasons since I too shunned you.
For my actions at that time and my way of telling you of your sister's passing, I am genuinely sorry.
If you are ever interested, there is some artwork your sister collected that…
Daphne couldn't read anymore as her grief consumed her.
The steady beat of his feet hitting the ground below him kept Steve company as he continued running through Central Park. He was nearly done with his run for the day, and he was looking forward to getting back to his apartment to shower before he started in on the file he'd received from Director Fury that afternoon.
"On your left!" Steve called out to the pretty blond as he came up behind her.
She jumped as he started to pass her.
Steve glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was okay as he hadn't seen her jump like that since the first time he'd done it nearly a year ago now. She nodded, so Steve turned back around to finish his run.
Sometime later, as he came back to where he last saw her, he decided he would stop and apologise for scaring her.
As she came into view, he smiled and started to slow down, not wanting to surprise her again. His smile fell as he watched the piece of paper and envelope in her hands flutter in the wind as her knees gave out. Steve sprinted to her side to catch her, making it just in time to keep her upright as her knees slammed into the gravel below.
The grief-stricken sound that tumbled from her lips tore at his heart. Steve gathered her in his arms and held her as she poured out her soul onto his sweat-dampened shirt. Steve whispered in her ear as they kneeled together on the ground in Central Park, but if anyone asked what it was he said to her, he couldn't give an answer.
At some point, he felt someone push paper into his hand and glanced up to see a stranger handing him the letter and envelope she had dropped. He thanked them and returned his attention back to the young woman in his arms.
The splatter of rain against the back of his neck spurred Steve into action.
"It's starting to rain," he whispered. Once he had her attention, he continued, "My apartment is not that far away, and we can get out of the rain, and get you cleaned up."
The woman pulled away and looked at him with a sadness he hadn't seen since before he went into the ice.
"I'm so sorry for ruining your shirt," she said by way of greeting.
He smiled and winked at her. "I was planning to get rid of it anyway."
She snorted. "I highly doubt that, but I will take you up on getting cleaned up. On one condition."
"And what's that?" Steve asked.
"What's your name?"
He laughed. "It might be good to know that. Steve Rogers. And you?"
"Daphne Greengrass."