Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys
Don't bite the hand that feeds you.
She hadn't slept well in months. She hadn't taken the time. Many nights were spent using unforgivable curses on half-bloods and problem students. She was sure that some of those students looked at her as if she were crazy. Her image was not that of a Death Eater. She was slight, thin, and appeared almost sickly. Eating had become rather difficult and her hair was starting to fall out.
There were no letters from the manor. No word of safety. It was possible they were all dead.
If that were the case, she would be dead. Or it could be just as well. There would be no evidence that she had led them into hiding.
She spent a majority of her time observing others. Studies were the lowest of priorities. Really, studies were the last of everyone's priorities. It seemed most students were in an inferi-like state, like the walking dead. They were all dead, in a way.
If too grave an offence was made, death.
If she didn't walk the line correctly, death.
If word got out of her defection, death.
Death.
Everywhere.
Her head leaned onto her hand as she heard another scream pierce the air.
It was her night off.
She was a Mistress of torture. "Uncanny, your likeness to your father." Carrow had said, haggle tooth prominent. All grotesque in his mutant love for fear. "Bred for the art, it seems."
Astoria didn't like the sound of that, but it kept Carrow smirking. If that was all it took, a few screams from a third year, she could keep going.
However, Astoria knew the limits of those she was torturing though. She learned through experience. Father had said 'prisoners insane with Cruciatus cannot answer questions.' Thus, she was introduced the unforgettable feeling of flames in her veins. She was ten at that time.
Every Saturday night, it was a task they all had come to practice, in the darkest of dungeons, those deepest set in the Earth, where screams couldn't be heard by the withering castle above.
It had been started around November, when the leaves began to change.
Someone took a session too far. The boy would never be the same again. 'Irreparable damage,' they said. Most tried to ignore the silent tears of the girl that had been his preverbal executioner. She was in Astoria's year. Georgia Yaxley. Even Astoria had tried to ignore her tears. Ignoring tears was a skill, learned upon passing through the dungeon doors. It was especially crucial at times such as this when sniffles echoed in the silence.
It was Nott that spoke up first. "You need to learn the limit. We all must know the limit."
The crowd was restricted to those that were loyal. Loyal, not to the Dark Lord, but to the House. Not to parents, but to the peers around them. Those that followed others kept away from the uninviting stares and glares of their peers. Buffoons like Crabbe and Goyle kept with the Carrows. Tracey Davis and Ring Burroway, half-bloods who supported Harry Potter, were often in the library. They were smart to steer clear, away from everyone else.
Without warning, Nott lifted his wand at the girl. "Crucio."
Her screams and shrieks echoed in the common room. Astoria's face remained entirely passive. It wasn't punishment. It was a lesson. Yaxley would now know how far she could push the students she was ordered to torture. She would know how far to go. If the Carrows ordered more, then she would do so, but the Carrows liked to give the orders and move on, not stick with the same idea for very long. Short prats that they were, they also had short attention spans.
"Crucio." Nott declared again, tossing the aim of his wand toward the chuckling David Johnson. "Do you understand, Johnson?"
"I—" Johnson's voice was overridden by a scream, ripping out of his throat loudly.
"Nott…" Zabini started from where he leant against the back of the sofa. It was merely a caveat, counsel not to push too far.
"They need to know." Nott responded quietly. "They must know their limits."
Both students continued to scream and writhe. Some eyes became vaguely concerned. Any longer and they would be driven crazy.
"Nott…" Astoria murmured from where she continued to read.
He raised an eyebrow and motioned his wand. The screams stopped, but the whimpering began. Weakness was frowned upon, but a few of their friends rushed forward. In mere minutes the shaking bodies were gone. Nott slipped away into the boy's dormitories. Zabini made mention of a woman friend waiting in a corridor broom closet.
Astoria was left alone.
Her fondness of isolation was waning. It seemed the nights were longer than before. It seemed the sun was dimmer every day. Her friends, at least, what could be defined as such, they had their own problems. Nott, though he would deny it, was suffering from insomnia. Zabini was struggling with acceptance of his mother's death. She had been bolting for Germany. Her death had been splashed all over the Daily Prophet. Pansy wasn't a friend. Malfoy…was an unknown. He spoke little, ate less, and reacted to nothing.
She leaned forward, arms wrapped around her stomach. It hurt terribly, her stomach that is. Perhaps it was from hunger. She hadn't eaten dinner. Lunch had been a piece of bread and a side of writhing Gryffindors. Unintelligent bravado merely bought pain, Astoria thought, it just borrowed a moment of victory. Shocked faces and a momentary glimpse of hope.
The Gryffindors were fools.
Images crashed through her mind, like a train thrown off its tracks. It seemed she wasn't able to stop them. She wasn't able to push away her guilt.
Guilt. Remorse. Regret.
There were many words to describe it. Astoria could live in denial or she could acknowledge her emotions. And the truth was: she felt shame for some of the terrible things that she had done.
They were out of necessity, of course, but when a little boy not older than twelve is crying out for his mudblood mother while your wand is raised….
Or when a little girl refuses to stand in show of courage against the regime and ends up in the Hospital Wing…
When fools like Longbottom and Weasley endure all the pain in the world for one single hope…
When she allowed herself to become an agent of despair.
Astoria felt her stomach tighten and the pain began. She swallowed relentlessly, trying to keep her emotions in check. It was so difficult that it caused physical pain. Her face was shaking as she breathed in and out. Tears were the victor in the end. She could never win. They slid down her cheeks.
She stared at the coffee table for a long time, just allowing the sweet water to fall.
She only tortured to live. She only did what she had to do. And she swore in that moment that she wouldn't let the war, the Death Eaters, or the Dark Lord himself make her do one thing:
Astoria Greengrass decided that she would never kill.
Astoria was many things: a liar, a torturer, a pureblood, and a Slytherin. Honor stopped at petty murders. Honor was something she would not lose whether it be for her House, her family name, or herself.
Her green eyes stared at that space on the table for what must've been hours before a foreign object entered her line of vision. A pale hand placed a green apple there. It snapped her out of her trance and she followed the arm up to the face.
Malfoy stood expressionless, as he had been for most of the semester. Even so, she saw a flicker of some nameless emotion in his eyes. It was always his eyes that betrayed emotion. Steel gray eyes. "Eat."
She felt the surprise on her face, cheeks still wet with tears. "Excuse me?"
"You're useless if you die of starvation, aren't you?" He responded. She stared in wonder. Draco Malfoy still had a voice. Even more shocking than that, he had used it to speak to her. His eyes rolled. "Eat the bloody apple."
With seemingly no more wisdom to give, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, turned on his heel and made for the male dormitories. There was no swagger to his steps. His once-upon-a-time arrogance was gone.
Before he could disappear entirely, she gave two words in response as she reached for the apple. Two words she never thought she'd live to say. Specifiically to Draco Malfoy.
"Thank you."
Side note: Sometimes, food is all that keeps you alive. Aceept the offer if ever it is given.
A/N: The next chapter will be coming shortly. I hope that every enjoyed this chapter. I really adored reading all the wonderful reviews. Thank you everyone for your kind words, alerts, and favorites. I hope that everyone can see the sort-of s transformation in Astoria. Things are about to get even more intense! All the best until then!
Disclaimer: All characters are property of J.K. Rowling.