Dose of Your Own

By: OurLoveIsForever

Chapter Two: Laces

A mediocre job, plus a mediocre flat, combined with a dismal outlook for the future never bothered me much. I was seen as cynical. That was their choice to look at me thus. I really wasn't as pessimistic as I had been in my youth. I just understood that there would be pain and hurt in the world, is that really so bad? There was no getting around or escaping that simple fact. When I was but a child, I believed the world to be an amusement park, built just for me and everything I could ever want was placed before my feet.

That's not to say that I never wanted anything. I did, more than I could ever convey. I wanted to be trusted. I wanted to find a way to support myself without my unhelpful family. I succeeded in that last right.

I had a job as a secretary in the Portkey Office of the Department of Magical Transportation, which equated to a job that made ends meet. Since I was cut off from the familial funds right after I graduated Hogwarts, I had to take the first employment available. The woman that filled that blasted desk before me had been an old crone of nearly one hundred years. She spent nearly eighty of those lonesome years occupying the same seat that I did. Some of the employees joked time and again that I would end up like that ancient woman: alone and irritable. Generally I had a colorful response for the idiots that mentioned it in front of me.

Irritably, I stacked the papers at the corner of my desk, ignoring the man that stood just beside me.

His fingertips were skimming the wood of the table, examining it as he did every day. "You know that if you are late one more time, we will have to let you go. "

They would have to try harder than that to get rid of me. I was going to work my way up in that office, not allow them to kick me out so soon. "I won't be late again, Mr. Duncan."

"That is what you said last time. See that it doesn't happen again." He moved away, looking like a wand was shoved up his nether-regions. Mr. Duncan, my boss, was the head of the Portkey office. A large man, aging rather quickly since the birth of his first born, he always had the disposition of an aristocrat. He never ceased to give me hell.

Even for that, he had been the only person to accept me. Since the war, it had become increasingly difficult for former Slytherins to find jobs. Eventually, the majority of Slytherin graduates worked for their own familial business. That, or they worked with other Pureblood families. While the war had been good for most, it had been detrimental to anyone even associated with Slytherin House.

"Astoria?"

I swung my head around to see a mousy blonde standing in the doorway to my office. She sent me a small smile before walking up, her robes hanging limply at her sides. "Hello, Laura. Pleasant day?"

"Hardly." She muttered, taking a seat in one of the hard-backed chairs in front of my desk. "Care to explain why you didn't show at Joyce's baby shower last night?"

I had never been one to lie, but I felt it completely necessary, if not for any other reason than to keep Laura from killing me. "I was sick."

She raised her eyebrows. "Uh huh, you know, Astoria, as much as you don't want to believe it, you are very easy to read."

I shrugged. "I try."

"You know that Joyce wanted you to be there. Please tell me that you didn't spend the evening babysitting that lady dog all evening." I rolled my eyes at her avoidance of a curse word.

"Yes, I did spend last night taking care of that bitch." She gave me a scornful glance, but said nothing as I continued. "You know why though. If I don't take care of her, then my parents will not pay for my flat. If they don't pay, then I will be out on my ass." I tried not to allow a smirk to grace my features. "I can't manage that payment on top of everything else! You know that!"

"I can't believe they would allow this to happen to you. It's not your fault that—"

I shook my head sharply. "It's not necessary to state it. You know why they disinherited me. I would rather that my office not be aware of that fact. They are already against me because of my background."

"Greengrass is one of the richest families in wizarding Britain. They can afford to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself." I bit out.

She took the clue to drop the subject. Standing, she placed a small basket on the desk and smiled. "There is a sandwich, pudding, and bottle of water. I knew you would forget lunch. You always do when you have to take care of her."

"Ever the caring one." I grinned, taking the basket from the table and scooting it under my chair. "I'll eat it later. I have too much to do before I will have time to eat. I have nearly two hundred Portkey agreements to distribute today."

"That's more than usual, isn't it?" She asked, heading for the door.

"With Christmas coming, no. I would expect the numbers to climb well into the thousands before the holidays."

"Well, I have to get back to the Law Office. I'll see you at the Cauldron?"

I nodded as she left.

Working like a house elf, I placed the papers in separate piles, some for Ministry workers, some for people within the magical community. While I continued my automatic sorting, I happened upon a name I recognized.

'Draco Malfoy. Portkey to Azkaban denied. Do not attempt again.'

I stared at the parchment.

They were denying him the right to see his father? Honestly? I felt myself growing angry. Once more the Ministry was showing its arse, and no one cared. I sat the parchment aside for sorting later.

The afternoon drug on, each passing moment made me regret getting up so early. I should have taken a sleeping potion.

Around five, I sent all of the memos of acceptance or declination with a flick of my wrist. Regretfully, I knew that I couldn't change the outcome of the three requests for Azkaban visitations. Along with Malfoy's request had been Parkinson and Eva Rosier. All three had been declined.

I felt somewhat sick at the thought of working for such a discriminatory Ministry. They had become the very administration they had hated. Simply because of mistakes within the lives of those that had chosen the wrong side, the majority of which simply did so for the safety of family, such as my father, did not justify ruining all hopes of a decent life.

It was not right.

And yet, I could not resign. I had to eat, to have clothing, to live. It would be impossible to find another job. I would have to accept the fact that the world was imperfect, even if I had known since my days in Hogwarts.

I pondered all of this on my walk to the Leaky Cauldron. The sky was overcast and oppressive, casting shadows in various directions. That darkness made me nervous. Without thinking, I pulled out my wand. With the alley deserted, my anxiety grew exponentially. My pace quicken along with my heart. I was near a panic when my eyes made contact with the Leaky door. I broke into a run. My head became light and my eyes unfocused. I needed to be inside.

Swinging the door open with a desperate gasp, I came face to face with someone I didn't want to see again.

He towered over me, as he always had, his six feet to my five foot six frame. I nearly gagged at the amount of cologne he wore. "Astoria, how wonderful it is to see you again, my dear."

"Yes, a great pleasure." I responded sarcastically. "Really, Warrington, I had no idea that you still wore that awful cologne. I thought perhaps you would outgrow the smell of piss."

He chuckled, blocking me from passing him. "I still don't understand why you continue to use my last name."

"If you want to be known as 'whelp' then by all means, Cailean."

Warrington's face contorted a bit into a look of contempt. "Still the bitch, right?"

"As long as you are still the dumbass, yes."

"Too bad. I would have like to see you—"

I rolled my eyes. "Naked and tied to your bed. Yes, you have told me that every time you see me. Funny how dreams get dashed, isn't it?" I dodged to my left, he lumbered to block me, but being the quicker one, I jumped to my right and moved past him. I thought I heard him curse my very existence as I passed. Oh well, can't win them all.

Moving through the after-work crowd, I finally made it to the corner table. It was isolated, in the darkest corner of the pub. Three sat at the dark wood slab, each deep in conversations. They continued as I pulled up a chair acquired as I approached them.

"He broke the lap, the chair, the picture frames…everything he could get his hands on. It was the largest rage I had ever seen. Within three minutes, the entire house was a mess, and I was left to clean it all up."

"Should have locked him in his study and told him then. That way it would be his things that were broken, not yours."

"True. I never confessed to genius, just wit."

Everyone shrugged. I noted the bartender with a wave. He nodded and sent a glass of water my way. "Well, hello, my friends."

Laura smiled amicably, taking a sip of her ale. "Are you alright? You look a little peaky."

"Thank you, Mother, but I am fine."

"You need a drink. That would make you less of a harpy." Evleen O'Malley said, raising her drink.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Who says that I am not an angry drunk?"

Tiernan shook his head, his brown lank hair falling in his eyes. "You are a rather funny drunk. I remember that from four years ago."

"Never again."

We continued to talk, speaking of the Ministry's attempt at becoming kinder to werewolves and non-humans. Tiernan had quite a bit to say about that considering he worked for the Regulation of Magical Creatures office. We moved on to the market of owls becoming increasingly expensive. Evleen ranted for a good half hour on that alone. The comfort within that circle was greater than I felt even within my own home.

They were Ravenclaws during our years at Hogwarts, my truest friends. More upset when I had been tortured by the Carrows than my own sister had been. Tiernan had gotten in trouble specifically to earn detention with me, to protect me as he had always said. I had thought he was showing off for Evleen seeing as though he was in love with her.

"Astoria, would you care to explain why that man is staring at you?"

I did not want to turn around. "No, I feel that my being here is explanation enough, wouldn't you say?"

"Don't be a smartass." St. John responded, folding his arms over his chest. "Remember that I can be just as much of a –"

"Bitch as me? Yes, of course, I remember. It was only three days ago that you told me to 'go to hell' for mentioning that you and Evleen were late arriving…" I shrugged, grinning. "Oh yes, and how could I forget that time that you hexed my hair green after I magically sealed you into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?"

Evleen and Laura smiled at the memory.

"I'm being serious. That man is staring at you. I get the feeling he doesn't particularly care for the back of your head."

"He's trying to hide his attraction." I replied, straight faced. "He doesn't have the courage to come over and buy me a drink."

All three laughed, but they quickly sobered looking over my shoulder. I felt a presence lingering there, but I chose to ignore it. I picked up my glass and held it to my lips, keeping my eyes on the reflection on Tiernan's glasses. Draco Malfoy stood behind me, his hands on his hips.

Yes, ignoring would be a wonderful idea.

"Laura, how is the Magical Cooperation committee doing? I would guess that things are quite interesting considering the breakout in Egypt last week?"

Laura didn't answer, she merely nodded as if entranced by the man standing behind me.

Seeing no other option, I took my glass in my hand and went to sip from it once more. When my lips reached the glass, no water met my lips. I held the glass away from my face, seeing that the water had become ice. I blinked, a bit shocked by his immature antic.

I pulled out my wand and cast a heating charm, held the glass to my lips once more, being a bit dramatic in my drinking than I normally would have. While he was distracted by my blatant mocking, I slipped my wand by my side, wordlessly casting a spell.

"If it isn't Little Miss Mouth," he sneered.

"Indeed, you've found me." I almost laughed at the surprised expressions on my friends' faces. "Here to meet out your revenge, Mr. Malfoy? Or do you find my hair so interesting that you would stare at it all evening long?"

He scoffed, coming to stand next to me, blocking Tiernan out of view. "Associating with lowborn mongrels, what kind of Pureblood are you?"

I bristled a bit at his insult to my friends. "No better than a ferret, I suspect."

Silence hung in the air at the meaning of my words. I kept my eyes on his watching for the tell-all signs of shock. They came with a slight raise to his eyebrows. I had to hand it to him. He was a master at hiding emotion. His upper lip pulled up over his front teeth in such a nasty sneer that I had never seen in my days. "How dare you?"

I shrugged. "Stupidity, I would guess." I could have sworn I heard Laura squeak a laugh before stifling it. "Of course, I have always been told that my pride would drive anyone mad." I smirked at Evleen over the table. She was shaking her head from side to side, her eyes wide.

I suppose that he saw he could no more win than I could and in effort to have the last word. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. He came very close to my face. "Pride in what? Your drunk of a sister, your flobberworm of a father, or your snitch of a mother?" He snickered and came closer still. "Or perhaps in the thought that any man in your presence will leave with a scratched face?"

My eyes flew open. He stood quickly, moving away from the table with a cocky smirk. Of course, it was I who had the last laugh as he fell to the hardwood floor, his arms flail to stop his dissent. As soon as he made contact, I jumped from my chair and bolted for the exit. He would soon discover that the shoelaces to his expensive Italian leather shoes had been tied together while he had attempted to give me hell.

I am sure I will regret that one, too. I thought as I laughed myself home. Yes, I would surely regret that one.