[Daphne always carries herself like she's expecting a fight these days. The war is over but it doesn't always feel that way. Nothing violent has happened to her, thank Merlin, and she doesn't think anything will, but she knows all too well the way cruel words and jeering looks can be wielded as weapons, having used them as such herself often during school.
Maybe it wasn't the best of timing to ostracize herself from the more stringent and old-fashioned crowd that made up the majority of those associated with the losing side of the war, but there was no better time for such a drastic change in her image. They had to change, to adapt, if they wanted to keep living in this world. Staying stuck in their ways would only lead to more death and suffering.
She'd always kept her hair long, but the other day, she'd had it cut to just a few inches. It was simultaneously a symbolic gesture and an act of defiance. The plans to meet up with Pansy had been made a week ago. She'd waffled on what to wear and how much make-up to put on, and opted for something still very feminine and in line with her normal style; she may be changing, but she's not a completely different person. Every choice in appearance is carefully calculated to give that message; things will be different, she will be different, but not unrecognizable.
She feigns the confidence easily enough, but her foot taps nervously against the table leg as she waits for Pansy to arrive.]
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Maybe it wasn't the best of timing to ostracize herself from the more stringent and old-fashioned crowd that made up the majority of those associated with the losing side of the war, but there was no better time for such a drastic change in her image. They had to change, to adapt, if they wanted to keep living in this world. Staying stuck in their ways would only lead to more death and suffering.
She'd always kept her hair long, but the other day, she'd had it cut to just a few inches. It was simultaneously a symbolic gesture and an act of defiance. The plans to meet up with Pansy had been made a week ago. She'd waffled on what to wear and how much make-up to put on, and opted for something still very feminine and in line with her normal style; she may be changing, but she's not a completely different person. Every choice in appearance is carefully calculated to give that message; things will be different, she will be different, but not unrecognizable.
She feigns the confidence easily enough, but her foot taps nervously against the table leg as she waits for Pansy to arrive.]