Chapter Three:
Don't go around tonight, well it's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise.
Day Unknown:
They had moved her so many times, room to room to room, that Astoria had lost count of the days. She didn't know if it had been a week, a month, or if it had really only been three days. She could count on one hand how many times she had seen the sun since her capture, the number was almost has heartbreaking as everything else that had taken place in her short life. She did however know who her guards were today, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. She had been surprised by Blaise's presence, the last she heard he was helping the cause; she supposes there are always going to be liars.
Her room now had a bed, and a chair, the bed had straps which they used to tie her down and continue their torture. The other Death Eaters, Parkinson and Blaise weren't allowed to touch her. She doesn't know if she's grateful or not. A knock brought Astoria out of her daze, she immediately sat on her bed as she was expected to. When Blaise entered, Astoria's brows furrowed. Have the rules changed now? Do they think I'll give them any information?
"Relax, I'm here to give you this," Blaise said, checking behind him before moving the door a little bit, open enough to make sure nobody could see in, but closed enough to make it inconspicuous. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment, it looked to have been crumpled as though it had been continuously read and reread.
"What is it?" Astoria asked hoarsely, her voice almost damaged beyond repair from her constant screams of agony.
Blaise seemed to wince at it, he moved closer outstretching his hand to give her the parchment. "Just read it, and when you're done hide it. As best as you can, do you understand?"
Astoria nodded, Blaise gave her a once over before turning around and leaving, shutting the door as quietly as he could. Astoria waited until his footsteps faded into the end of the hallway before unfolding the parchment. It was blank.
Great, Astoria thought, this is great. Real helpful, Blaise.
She hid the parchment under her mattress, it was then that she noticed something. In the dark, words seemed to appear. A closer look reveled to Astoria that they weren't words, it was a code.
Two Weeks Earlier:
What Draco wanted was her help, and for that he had apparently risked his own life to get it. He informed her that it wasn't safe to bring her back to England, Blood traitors are their highest priority and you are at the top of the list. He had said, mentioning it casually as though it were no big deal that there was a bounty out for her, as though her wasn't already on a spike. No matter, he continued, we can just stay here.
She didn't like that plan.
But they had stayed, or he had stayed considering Astoria had already been there and wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. She had let him live in her run down motel room with her, forcing him to sleep on the stained and dirtied carpeted floor. The look he gave her when she suggested it almost made her laugh. Almost.
He spent most of his time researching, learning the laws of the American Wizarding World, commenting on how simple or complex something was every once in a while. Sometimes he was in awe, and other times his nose would scrunch, as though he had smelt something awful. Bloody Americans was a term she heard often.
One night, after she had woken to his screaming, he told her everything. His nightmares were caused by the things he had seen, sometimes he could stop them and others he was forced to watch, his body paralyzed while his mother was brutally murdered. Often times it was the latter.
He told her about Snape, who he really was. It had been a wonder that anyone had been able to figure it out, he said. Everybody who knew the truth was dead. When Astoria asked who was the one to find out the information Draco simply replied: Ginny.
It was seven days into Draco's stay that Astoria was captured, Draco had left to go do more research, it was though he never stopped. Practically reciting what he had learned in his sleep. She had gone out to get something and when she returned she saw that their motel room (it didn't surprise her as much as it should have when started referring to everything as theirs) had been torn apart.
The last thing Astoria remembered was the bathroom door opening and then nothing.
A/N: Hello, it's me. So yeah- I've been busy. My birthday happened and then I had some stuff going on but here's chapter three. R&R, por favor.