Astoria and Daphne.
They were sisters.
They were inseparable.
The final battle has come at last.
Who will reign in the fight of survival?
Ice Queen
Dislaimer: I own Nothing! It all belongs to the wonderful JKRowling.
The poem mentioned is called "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost. (I take credit for nothing.)
It's been said that the moment you are born you also begin to die, as the tick tock of death's chrono is activated, counting down to the moment one will return to wherever their beliefs teach; the how, when, where and why to be determined somewhere along life's audacious path.Yet for my family, fate has always been against us.
Eight years ago, my mother was killed in a house fire. We don't know how it was started, but as soon as the wizards put out the flames, they found her ashen body locked in our drawing room closet. My father says it was murder, and he threatened to kill every man that had ever mentioned her name. To this day, he keeps her crimson jar of ashes on the mantel next to his bedside for comfort. My grandmother says it was fate that caused her to die, and if she was meant to live, she would be standing here with us today. Of course, we all believed this to be blasphemy. My father went into studying potions, hoping he'd be able to discover a new way of tracking footprints of the past, or so he would tell me. But one day, his experiment went horribly wrong and it exploded in his face, causing him to permanently lose his sight. My sister, Astoria, and I officially moved in with my grandmother that day, while my father locked himself away at my uncles without an additional word to anyone about the incident.
We continued on with our lives as if nothing had happened. I went to Hogwarts a frightened yet excited first year when I turned eleven, Astoria following my footsteps two years later, and we were both proudly anointed Slytherin with many of our fellow purebloods, something that made my grandmother swell with pride. But our family was still cautious, always alert of the dangers around us. We knew a power was rising, and yet the question was to whom would we follow when it finally surfaced? At first, the battle seemed only between the Potter boy and his rivalries, but now that war has engaged us at school, I don't know what to believe…
"Miss Greengrass," a vibrant voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up into the baffling brown eyes of Professor Alecto Carrow, who stood impatiently on one leg at the head of the class.
"Yes professor?" I muttered, fully aware what this woman was capable of.
"What should you do when encountered with a muggle?" she repeated, obviously annoyed.
"Stun it," I replied, my mind hating my mouth. Professor Carrow cocked her eyebrow at me and burst into a precarious laugh.
"A stunner may do, for a firsty. But you are seventh years!" she smiled. "You have full authority to kill or persecute any slimy creature before you." She chuckled, "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, mam," I said certainly, trying to ignore the ever growing lump in my throat.
"Excellent," she grinned and turned to the class. "Today's assignment: 101 ways to torture a muggle," she sniggered. "Now get to work."
The sudden scratch of quills and parchment erupted in the room, and I grimaced as I pulled out my own. Professor Carrow sat at her desk, her legs lazily strewn across the exterior as she looked over the class intently.
Hastily, I scribbled across my parchment: 1. the tickling charm 2. Cruciatus curse 3. … A boisterous laugh rang in the back of the room, and I turned to gawk at Pansy Parkinson, who was spread eagle-like over her desk attempting to catch a glimpse at Crabbe's essay.
"Chop off their toes," she whispered sardonically, whipping her glutinous black hair behind her. I cringed at my friends words and continued my essay. 3. Diffindo 4. Tarantallegra… A strange prickly sensation curled on the back of my neck, and I had the sudden sense of being watched. Inquisitively, I looked back into the bright blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. He sat there, unmoving, his eyes steady on mine. Finally, he looked away, glancing down at the blank paper before him.
"Miss Greengrass," the familiar tune of Alecto Carrow filled my ears, "To my desk," she smiled. Hesitantly, I obeyed, and I soon found myself in front of the thick black soles of her shoes. "Yes mam?" I inquired politely, subconsciously tugging at the necklace on my chest.
"Victoria Greengrass is your grandmother is she not?" she chewed on her fingernails.
"Yes, mam," I stuttered, surprised that she knew her name.
"You also have a sister here in this school, do you not?" she said sweetly, her teeth bearing down on every word.
"Yes, mam," I replied, suddenly worried for Astoria's well being.
"Excellent," she grinned. "It is my job, as a professor, to not only teach you children the facts of insubordinate creatures, but also to make sure that you, as students, are all safe in this fun learning environment." Where is she going with this?
"I understand that, mam," I spoke up, concerned about the true intentions of this discussion.
"Excellent," she grinned crookedly. "I have a job for you and your sister. -She has a class with a Weasley does she not?"
"I believe so," I muttered, the nervousness washing away.
"Good, good…" she murmured. "Now. I need you to keep an eye on Neville Longbottom," she said gravely. "And I want your sister to keep tabs on the Weasley girl."
"Yes, mam," I replied at once. She cocked her brow in return and let out a disdainful chuckle.
"It will not be that simple, girl," she snarled. "I want you to follow her, and find out what she is up to."
I stared into her cold brown eyes for a moment and then nodded sincerely, "Yes mam," I whispered.
"Good," she grinned. "You will report your findings to Draco," she nodded to the back of the room. "Or myself."
"Of course, mam," I bowed my head and returned to my seat, Malfoy watching my every move. I didn't want to get involved, but being a fellow pureblood, I knew she expected immediate loyalty from my family. As I continued my essay, my fingers found the familiar necklace on my chest, and they began to twiddle anxiously.
After the death of my mum, my grandmother gave both my sister and I similar necklaces with a blue icicle dangling from the center. She said it was to protect us from fire, for ice is the elemental opposite of flame. When we were young, she read us a poem entitled Fire and Ice by Robert Frost. The poem contemplates whether the world will be conquered by fire or by ice. Will it be destroyed from the desire of humankind, or the hate that separates us from each other? Wizardkind has met a breech. I have finally begun to see that we are truly at war, but the question is where will we side? Will we crawl to the feet of survival? Or will we fight the fervent power so obviously among us?
"Class dismissed," the cackling ring of professor Carrow's voice pierced the walls, and I promptly left the room, by book bag slumped on my shoulder.
Lunch that afternoon was mediocre. Astoria and I keep quiet as we listened in on the many conversations of the new curriculum. The Gryffindor students mostly keep their heads down in hushed conversation, but I was still able to spot the crooked head of Neville Longbottom from my place in the corner. Headmaster Snape sat at the front center of the room, his dress robes posed royally at his side. The familiar sneer was evident on his face, but his eyes held a fathomless grey I hadn't noticed before.
"I didn't say anything," a low voice whispered directly into my ear. I recognized the melodic voice of Draco Malfoy, and I turned my head so our eyes met blue and blue.
"Then why did she anoint me?" I drawled sarcastically.
"You're a pureblood," he said. "You knew she would use you sooner or later."
I studied his face and turned to Astoria, who, until now, kept her face serene and silent. "What do they want?" I asked him, biting into a croissant.
"You know what they want," he spoke rationally. "They want power and control. They want Potter dead."
"What is so important about Potter?" Astoria snapped, keeping her voice down as well. "Yeah, I get it. He may have been You-Know-Who's downfall, but He has returned. Can't the man get over it?"
"Astoria," I sneered, looking around to make sure no one had heard.
"It is foolish to speak so openly," Draco hissed, making my sister frown. "The Dark Lord sees it as a weakness on his behalf that Potter is alive. He wants to show all of Wizardkind that nothing and no one, especially Potter, can stand in his way."
"But Potter has disappeared?"
I smiled as Draco twitched, "Completely vanished from the Earth," he whispered. "I don't think his friends even know where he is," he shrugged. "Well, that is besides Granger and Weasel King."
"Do you know what Potter is doing?" I asked, my imagination going wild.
"No," Draco said fearfully. "But they need to be careful. There is a Taboo on the Dark Lord's name, and I know how much Potter loves to use it."
I rolled my eyes, thinking about the many displays he used it openly.
"For now, stay low," Draco muttered, standing from his seat. "And be careful." He whispered. "Because you never know who's watching."
Quickly, he left the table and headed out of the Great Hall. I turned my eyes to the Head's table and noticed the flickering gaze of Headmaster Snape on us. I bit my lip and stood to leave as well, Astoria two steps behind me. If we were cautious and there were enough willing, maybe Fire and Ice may just clash as one in the end.
A/N: Yes, I know this was a short, somber chapter, but the next one will be better. Ginny will come into play and we will, of course, see more of Draco and Astoria. (much more delightful. :)
Thank you for reading. Please review. :)