Astoria's Guide to Slytherin Guys
You may never learn a Slytherin man's true intentions.
Months passed, as they tend to do. Most of those who had left for Christmas holidays had not returned. Of course, this was due to death, fear, or imprisonment. Most likely the latter of the choices as it seemed Death Eaters preferred torture over death. The school was becoming something of a war zone itself. Torture sessions were no longer confined to the dungeons. Children were struck down in the corridors, in the Great Hall, on the grounds, even in class. It was a miracle to arrive at class on time with the traffic caused by unconscious or semi-conscious bodies in the halls. Picture if you will...
Astoria generally stepped over these bodies, eyes forward.
That was until the bodies she was stepping over had green and silver ties around their necks.
This caused her to pause just outside of the Muggle Studies classroom. And she was aware that Alecto Carrow was inside those doors. Most likely, it was a trap. Astoria was no fool. Carrow was the fool for thinking so.
Astoria was a 'conniving and callous little girl', or so Amycus Carrow had described her. She was far more clever than they would ever know. They all were. The Slytherins were against the regime (at least most of the Slytherin population at this point) and the Carrows were none the wiser. Snape knew. Snape always knew.
He just didn't seem to care.
And Greengrass had found her…calling in the silent movement. Of course, they didn't do such blatantly ignorant things like that Dumbledore's Army. The Slytherins didn't need some ridiculous name. They were Slytherins. That was a unifying factor enough. No banner or flag. No silly little recruitment signs. Just the knowledge that if one was going down, they all were. And, if they were going down, they would do so with their heads held high.
It was a strange ideal for Slytherins to adapt. Once upon a time, the House had been completely individualistic. It was now what some might call a nest of survival. It is human nature to band together in times of struggle. Astoria realized that the Slytherins were no different. Unity in the face of adversity. They just had their own way of going about things.
She glanced down to the unconscious face and felt her pulse quicken.
Nott's usually well-kept hair was wind-swept and messy.
Her eyes moved to the other body. From the hand, she knew it to be Blaise Zabini. He was wearing his father's heirloom ring.
If she stopped, she would be condemning herself to torture and self-incrimination. If she didn't stop, they would endure more pain. To any other House, this would've been a snap decision. To her, it was a fork in the road. Between loyalty to oneself and to her peers. It was the parting of ways, so to say.
The corridor emptied, students trickling into classrooms as she continued her inner debate, biting her lip in uncertainty.
"We must understand what we've gotten ourselves into…" Nott had said nearly a month before as a large group sat about the common room. It was one of the clandestine meetings, when all of those not loyal were off being lapdogs. "We're not on a side."
"We are on sides." A young man responded from the stairs. "Look at your arm, eh? Look at Zabini's. Look at my arm. Either way this war goes, we're screwed."
"I won't lie and say that the picture is all roses and butterflies." Nott murmured, shaking his head. "We've made our beds, now we must lie in them." Astoria lifted her head from her arm and turned to face him.
He looked so old as he stood by the fireplace, an arm out to prop against the mantle. There was once a time when he had been a solitaire, a lone wolf. Now, it seemed he had somehow become the alpha of a pack with no course and no moon to guide it. Nott had become their leader, that thinning slip of a man.
"There are about twenty of us that will die as soon as the Dark Lord wins." Zabini said, slinking further into the leather chair he had confiscated from a second year just minutes before. "A good number more will die in subsequent times."
"What about those of us in good standing?" Georgia Yaxley asked, wringing her hands.
Parkinson was the first to answer. "Then remain that way, but remember that should Potter win the day…the positions will be reversed. It will be a game of chance in the end." Astoria raised a single brow. Parkinson had some wits about her. It seemed the war was sobering her up though Astoria had always known Parkinson to be smarter than she let on.
"Whatever the course you choose, remember that it is for self-preservation. The only loyalty is to this House and to self. Some of you remain loyal to your family… That is fine, of course. We're not against family." Nott was toeing a very thin line, a very dangerous one. Treason, as one could say. "We're against whatever threatens us. Period."
Astoria nodded, both in the past and the present. "Professor Carrow, I positively loathe trickery."
"Do you, now?" A voice said to her right. She turned only slightly to acknowledge the professor. "It seemed to be your strongest suit, Miss Greengrass. Lying, posing, acting. You play the part so well."
Almost too well. Astoria's chin rose. "Shall I take these men to the hospital wing, Professor? They are impeding the hallway."
"That won't be necessary." Amycus Carrow smirked, circling in a wide arc. Like a vulture. "You see, we received word that there were a few Slytherins who were…aiding Ravenclaw students in concocting a painless draught last night." Astoria stiffened. "Quite an advanced potion for third year Ravenclaws to accomplish..."
"Indeed, Professor Slughorn must be teaching them well." She responded calmly. "Though, I have no idea to what you are referring. You see, both Nott and Zabini were with me in the common room last night. Several students can vouch for this." She sucked in a dramatically worried breath through her teeth. "I would hazard to say that Nott will be…displeased once he awakens."
"Be damned what Theodore Nott thinks!" Amycus roared, pulling his wand from his robes. Astoria didn't move. "I'm no fool, Miss Greengrass! I know it was you who developed the painless draught!"
Astoria almost felt herself becoming bored rather than fearful. So many times she had pulled the bow across these strings. Every time, it worked out the same way. "Sir, I'm not particularly skilled in potion making."
It was always best to hide your Aces in the hole. She had received the worst grades all year in potions for this very reason. Sometimes, hiding your strength will save your hide. She watched as his expression began to change. His gaze slipped behind her. Astoria turned a bit to see the black robed figure of Headmaster Snape stalking toward them, his gaze flickering to the two unconscious men.
"Carrow, do you realize that you have disabled two of our own operatives?" It was a demanding, almost patronizing tone. His drawl seemed somewhat sarcastic. "You had best pray Henry Nott does not hear of this. He's very protective of his son."
"Nott can't-" He paused, and redirected his comment. "Professor Snape, how skilled is Miss Greengrass at the art of potions? You have been her professor until this past year, have you not?"
Astoria felt her heart rate double. Her expression wavered for a mere second. Panic. If she was found out, it would cost them all. She wouldn't be able to save herself, much less the young men on the floor. It would mean the end for them all.
She didn't turn to Professor Snape, choosing rather to stare at Nott's signet ring, a Rosier legacy. 'My mother's last request.' He had told her in confidence. 'I'm the last of a whole clan. She told me to wear this ring until I died myself. I expect that to be sooner rather than later so I best start living up to the expectation.'
Slowly, she allowed her eyes to fall on Zabini's peaceful face. It was a far cry from the usual scowl he had. He often complained of headaches from the way his brows were constantly drawn together. Even so, he couldn't break the habit.
"She's rubbish." Her head snapped around. Snape was staring, almost into her very soul. "It seems the entire Greengrass clan is completely inept at the fine art of potions. You remember, Dominic nearly set the entire classroom on fire with his stupid antics." Snape lifted his chin and looked down at her with a completely serious expression. "It would serve you well to take remedial lessons one day, Greengrass. And perhaps it is best to get Nott and Zabini out of the way lest they turn into floor mats." At that, his head turned toward Carrow. "We have word…"
Carrow threw her one furtive glance before following after the headmaster. It seemed he was unable to question power. A true lapdog.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she reached for her wand. It was almost as if Snape was giving his blessing and best wishes to their endeavors. Not that it was possible for Snape to do so, but that was the impression she got. Snape knew she was particularly gifted in potions.
Such a trend there was. Snape always knew.
Her immediate reaction was to question his intentions. Regardless, she put the second chance to good use though. It could take her whole life to figure out why her Head of House was helping her.
The next week, nearly every person in the castle had the painless potion caplets. If taken before a torture session, not one scrap of pain would be felt. That included the Cruciatus Curse. Truly, a new form of wizarding anesthetic. And it would change the world of wizarding medicene in years to come, though no one would know at that time. And Astoria knew she would never recieve the recognition.
"They'll just write them off as an attempt at sabotage." Nott shrugged, leaning back. The incident was never mentioned. If the younger children heard, they would begin to panic. Leaders were never allowed to show weakness. This went doubly so for Slytherin leaders.
Astoria sighed, shaking her head. "No, I obliviated the Ravenclaw that I gave them to. She's more than equipped to formulate that kind of potion herself. She doesn't know that I gave her the knowledge. Nor does anyone else."
"Save for Carrow." Zabini muttered.
Astoria nodded. Her eyes looked over toward the Ravenclaw table where the young woman sat. There were smiles there. No more pain. "Yes, save for Carrow."
"You should've kept walking. You were a git for thinking of…saving us."
A voice from nearby spoke up. It seemed he was speaking more and more every day. "What was it you said Nott? We're against whatever threatens us. It wasn't ignorance that made her stop. It was loyalty." Malfoy turned to face her. No expression, just his dark, sleep-deprived eyes. "Just make sure that loyalty doesn't get you killed." Once again, before she could speak he stood and began to walk away, hands hooked in his pockets.
She turned back toward Nott and the others, a quirk in her brow. "One day, something is going to snap him out of that state. When it does, I bet it is a rude awakening to the world he's in now."
"Astoria," Nott murmured, shaking his head. "Malfoy's already there. He's not shutting off emotions to escape. Malfoy's has shut them off to survive. You are no better."
After that, Astoria understood.
Side Note: Intentions are relative. Ultimately, if those intentions serve in your favor, you would do better not to question them.
A/N: Wanted to get this up quickly. I am glad that everyone enjoyed the previous chapter and I hope that this one was well-recieved too. Just two more to go. All the best out there!