CHAPTER SEVEN: invitis peregrinus

[an unwanted visitor]

"the silence overtakes me, the idle words forsake me and I am left to face me."

Flyleaf, In The Dark

in which she gets an unexpected visit

It had been barely 7 in the morning when Asteria first arrived to work that day - still rather sluggish and lethargic after her 'date night' with Evan. If she had been given the choice, her office was the last place she'd have been at 7:01 am on a Thursday.

As it was, Robards had given her another task load to work through even though he wasn't her Head of Department. Among travel ban lists and notes on certain peoples latest locations (of which, Asteria believed Robards had no real right to have), Asteria now had to prepare resources for the enactment of the new Wand Trace Law.

Much to her irritation, Robards' appeal had been passed by the Wizengamot meaning all known ex-Death Eaters (those bearing the Dark Mark) had to surrender their wands to the Aurory for the new spell detection charm to be placed on them.

Given the fact that she didn't bear the mark of the Dark Lord, Asteria had managed to escape the law on a technicality. Not that she minded much either way - she had nothing to hide, after all - but the look upon Robards' face when he realised had offered her great satisfaction.

By lunchtime, she was certain the man was mocking her - allowing her to see the different avenues he was inquiring but none of the results. Despite doing most of his work, Asteria didn't have a single clue what he was searching for or what he had found; and that infuriated her, just as she suspected he knew it would.

It was almost three in the afternoon when Kingsley arrived in the doorway of Asteria's office. The witch was in the middle of writing out the letter that would be sent to all known defected Death Eaters - requesting their presence, and wands, in the Aurory before October 5th - when the Minister had knocked at her door.

Asteria stood from her desk as a sign of respect. Her expression held an unwavering calmness and sophistication, which, unfortunately, was not transferred internally. The brunette's head raced with the various scenarios that could have brought Kingsley to her Office - all much more incriminating than the other.

"Good afternoon, Minister," Asteria spoke with a kind smile as she wiped her clammy hands on her black tailored skirt, gesturing her hand towards the chair in front of her desk.

Kingsley smiled gratefully - his purple robes billowing elegantly as entered the room. "Miss Nott," the man nodded in greeting before taking the seat she had offered him. "Percy tells me you're interested in being the Ministry's Chaser for the Commonwealth Tournament?"

Asteria caught herself before the eye-roll could slip. It seemed no matter how much disinterest she'd shown in the tournament, Percy could still not take a hint. "Percy's ability to listen is concerningly selective," the brunette replied in a gruff tone - a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

"I'm afraid that I simply don't have the time to try out, least of all actually compete," Asteria explained to the man with an apologetic expression. Kingsley, however, didn't seem the least bit offended as he sent her an amused smirk.

"Do not fret, Asteria," Kingsley spoke with a shrug of his shoulders. "The position was filled - though, I do hope you can find some time to spare to watch the Tournament."

Asteria's eyes widened as the man pushed three tickets for the Commonwealth Quidditch Tournament across her desk towards her. In truth, the woman hadn't given much thought about attending the tournament - she had work and her siblings to worry about, everything else was placed on the back burner.

That didn't mean she wanted to go any less - plus, she didn't doubt Circe would also want to go. The young blonde had always been fascinated with Quidditch, just as she was with reading and pranking - the perfect blend of Hestia, Asteria, and Theo.

"Thank you, Minister," the brunette spoke with a kind smile - still awed by the man's presence, least of all his generosity.

The Minister offered her a kind smile, nodding in acknowledgement as he stood. It was no secret that Asteria had been working late hours at the Ministry - fulfilling the requests of Robards despite her working in a different Department, trying her hardest to figure out the mystery of the recent disappearances.

It wasn't her job, but she still worked as though it was. Kingsley felt he should reward her for her efforts - to let her know he appreciated everything she was doing. Asteria, however, didn't need gratitude. She needed answers.

Though she pocketed the tickets nonetheless.

"If I may be so bold," Asteria called out before Kingsley could leave - a hesitant look on her face as if she wasn't particularly sure she had any right to discuss such matters with the man - "I've noticed Robards' trace appeal has been passed?"

Kingsley looked as annoyed as Asteria felt as he nodded his head at her observation, "through no pleasure of mine."

"It seems my role as Minister is rather ineffective in comparison to the majority verdict of the Wizengamot," the man stated with a hint of venom laced in his tone - his irritated expression enough to show Asteria that he had not been in favour of Robards' plans.

Asteria looked at the man curiously, "so, you don't agree with Robards?"

Kingsley almost looked offended by her question as he lingered in the middle of her room, "oh, no. I believe Robards' is grasping at straws - looking to make an enemy out of a group that just wants an opportunity to fit in."

Asteria furrowed her brows, "so why not remove him from his post? Surely the Minister has enough power to demote a Head of Office should they not think they're doing their job correctly?"

If Kingsley took offence to Asteria's accusatory tone, he did not show it. It wasn't necessarily that Asteria thought the man was not doing his job correctly - she just didn't understand why Kingsley would allow Robards to be the main Auror in charge of the case if he thought he was making a mess of it.

"Because my theories are based purely on speculation and a strong dislike - I have no proof," Kingsley replied with a grimace - assuring Asteria that he wanted Robards gone just as much as she did, though neither acquired the means to see him demoted.

"You of all people should be aware of just how damaging speculations can be if they're not backed up with evidence, Miss Nott," Kingsley spoke with a raised brow. Asteria nodded subtly - she wasn't a stranger to ill-evidenced assumptions.

People judged her purely based on her last name and Hogwarts house. Very few actually took the time to get to know her - to realise she wasn't at all like what they'd first thought.

If Kingsley demoted Robards purely based on his dislike for the man, the repercussions it could have would be endless. If they wanted to do something about him, they had to be careful. They needed proof of corruption.

Kingsley offered the brunette a reassuring smile, "I wouldn't let it worry you, Asteria. The wand trace does track the spells cast by the castor's wand, but it won't hold solely as definitive proof."

"Robards will need much more than a traced hex or jinx to be able to incriminate just anyone," Kingsley informed the woman. And though his words were meant to be reassuring, they only worried Asteria more.

The witch wasn't sure Robards was above fabricating evidence if it meant he could find someone to blame - someone to be the scapegoat whilst he basked in the glory of being the hero that solved the crime.

Asteria smiled despite her internal concern, "thank you, Minister. It's comforting to finally have a Minister that isn't so easily swayed into corruption." And though her smile was fabricated, her words were not.

Kingsley had always been kind to her; treating her with the same respect he treated everyone else with. He did not possess the same judgemental outlook so many others did after the war. He was fair and diplomatic - some would argue it was these two qualities that made him a pushover.

Asteria concluded that it was, in fact, those two qualities that made him the best Minister for Magic the British Wizarding World had seen in a long time.

Kingsley smiled at the witch - an expression of fondness illuminating his ageing features. "We're all human, Miss Nott," the man spoke with a certain sophistication and wisdom one could only dream of possessing.

"Every life is worth the same - the same opportunities, the same basic rights. Every life is worth saving," Kingsley finished with an assured tone. Asteria smiled as Kingsley made his way to the door, lingering only for a moment as he sent her another kind smile.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Nott." Asteria nodded her head subtly, "thank you, Minister. You as well," the brunette called as Kingsley left her office - his purple robes billowing in an enviously elegant way behind him.

It wasn't uncommon for Percy to work late. It had become a running joke among the Department that the redhead lived in his office - the fact that Percy always seemed to be the first one into work and the last one to leave only seemed to confirm the suspicion.

What was uncommon, however, was seeing Percy joined by his brothers. Ron would sometimes stop by the elder wizards office for lunch when Hermione and Harry were both busy, though it was quite sporadic. Seeing Fred and George in the Ministry was an even rarer occurrence.

The twins did everything they could to avidly avoid the Ministry - finding the whole building far too clinical and strict for their personal taste. It was another reason they had passed all the business needs over to Verity - allowing the pink-haired witch to deal with all their stock importation documents and financing.

To see Fred, George, and Ron all gathered in Percy's office was enough evidence to infer something grave had happened. And it had.

As Percy sat at his desk - writing identical letters to Bill, Charlie and Ginny who could not be there in person - Fred, George, and Ron shifted around his office with varying expressions of devastation and anger.

"What exactly happened, Percy?" the youngest of the four asked as he sat in the seat in front of Percy's desk. They had each received an owl telling them to come to Percy's office in a matter of urgency - and they had listened, though they were all beginning to wish they hadn't.

Percy emitted a sigh, pausing his writing for a second as he looked towards his brother with heavy eyes. "We were leaving Aunt Muriel's ward when a trainee-healer knocked into mum," the redhead explained for the third time - his tone just as thick with sadness as it had been the first.

"She dropped a vial of Doxy Disease on impact - mum was in such a close proximity… she couldn't avoid it," Percy swallowed as new tears began to well in his eyes. Ron slumped backwards in his seat, the weight of the situation almost crushing him as Fred and George leant against the wall to the left; also stuck in a suffocating whirlwind of devastation and confusion.

Doxy Disease: named ever so creatively after the Doxy whose bite was venomous and often fatal, was a disease that infused itself into the blood. In basic terms, it was a type of poison that fused with one's red blood cells and eliminated all white blood cells until there was nothing left to fight it ⎯ contaminating one's blood until the poison reached the heart.

It was a slow, and extremely painful, process that could take anywhere between three months to a year before causing a fatality. It had been used as a chemical weapon during the war and had caused mass devastation - which is why the last remaining vials of it had been stored at St. Mungo's for study purposes.

Whilst the war was long since over, there were still a few Death Eaters who knew how to create the disease. The Ministry was adamant about finding a cure - not wanting to take any chances should the disease ever find itself in circulation once again.

"It isn't airborne; the disease can only be transferred through skin absorption, which means it isn't contagious," Percy told his brothers with a lightness atypical to the situation. He was trying to offer them a silver-lining - a glimmer of hope in a very, very ominous cloud.

"They've let her come home, so she doesn't have to be stuck in a ward at St. Mungo's - but they… they're not sure how long she has left."

As it happens, that glimmer of hope wasn't much of a glimmer at all. It was more of a flicker - subtle and barely there. What Percy's words effectively translated to were "at least she'll be in the comfort of her own home while she dies - slowly and painfully."

A coldness sank into Fred's stomach upon the realisation. Without another word, the eldest twin stormed passed George - heading straight out of the door, ignorant to the concerned shouts of his three brothers. He only had one destination in mind at that moment.

Asteria shifted her startled gaze to the door as Fred Weasley invited himself into her office. The redhead did not offer her a moment to speak before he cornered her with his stern glare - though it wasn't quite strong enough to hide the devastation in his eyes.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," Fred spoke with a matter of urgency. Asteria narrowed her gaze at his demanding tone - if his blatant disregard for basic manners had not been enough to anger her, the rude way in which he demanded to speak to her definitely was.

Perhaps if he had been more polite she'd have felt more inclined to help him. Though, probably not. She was still Asteria Nott after all, and he was still Fred Weasley ⎯ no matter how distressed and shattered the man currently seemed.

"Well, the moment you have something I want to discuss, then we'll talk," Asteria retorted as she sorted the papers on her desk into the appropriate piles, barely sparing the redhead a second glance. The fact that she was acting as though she had more important things to do than listen to him infuriated Fred.

She certainly wasn't his first choice of help, but whether he liked it or not, she was the only person he knew that could help. Another fact that sent Fred's blood boiling. He seemed to be going to her for quite a few things recently - not that he had really listened to the 'advice' she had offered him the previous night.

"Until then, Weasley, you can wait," Asteria spoke with a tight-lipped smile as she nodded towards her office door. "Though I wouldn't hold out ⎯ it'll be a long time before I ever need something from you."

Fred held his ground ⎯ unperturbed by her efforts to get him to leave. He had more pressing concerns to fret over than the malice laced in her tone. "How about a space large enough to store your healing salve and an extra pair of hands to help you make it?" the redhead retorted with a raised brow.

He knew he'd catch her interest before he'd even spoken the words. After he had run into her the other week, he had begun to notice the witch make more regular trips to Slug and Jiggers Apothecary.

It hadn't taken him long to work out that Asteria only made the potion when it was needed ⎯ which seemed to be a lot more than usual ⎯ meaning the witch either didn't have the resources to batch make it and store it, or simply didn't have enough time to do it all herself.

If he'd have cared enough, Fred would've probably offered her the space when he'd first realised. As it happens, the only reason he was asking her now was because he required her help. Whether either of them liked it or not ⎯ they both had something to offer the other.

Asteria raised a brow as she studied the wizard. He was shifting on his feet ⎯ his hands anxiously shaking at his sides and his eyes, though currently pinning Asteria with an unrelenting glare, were sad. He needed her help ⎯ something Asteria would've taken great pleasure in if not for the fact that she also now required his.

"Well, you're hardly the benevolent type, Weasley," Asteria commented with a knowing tone as she leant her elbows against her desk, "what is it you want in return?"

Fred swallowed ⎯ the overwhelming grief he felt, thick in both his throat and eyes, "part of the produce."

Asteria furrowed her brows curiously, "why?"

"That's my business," the redhead snarled with a tone that insisted he wasn't going to explain any further. Asteria knew she'd figure it out one way or another ⎯ there was very little that she didn't know, after all.

The brunette hummed sarcastically, returning to shuffling the files on her desk into their appropriate piles, "I'll think about it." Of course, she didn't have to think about a lot.

Fred was offering her a space to store her healing potions meaning she'd be able to make a lot more than she could currently. She'd never have to worry about Hestia or the others running out, or stress over a cauldron at 3 in the morning because that was the only time she had spare to make it.

And all he wanted in return was a few vials of her potion ⎯ the answer to his offer would've been a no-brainer, had it not been for the fact that it was Fred Weasley who had made it. Asteria had long since learned that anything involving Fred Weasley was not as straightforward as it first seemed.

Given the way he had so harshly snapped at her last night, she was shocked the redhead had even thought to come to her for help in the first place.

Fred scoffed bitterly as he shook his head ⎯ the malice and animosity in his glare almost rendering Asteria breathless. "You know, your whole heartless bitch act is becoming quite old, Nott," the redhead spat with disgust; as though the mere sight of her had caused him physical pain.

He should've known better than to go to her for help ⎯ what did she owe him? Why should she care that his mother was currently laying in a bed ⎯ riddled with a dizzying amount of pain as her body decayed slowly from the inside out?

"It's a wonder you have anyone left to love you," Fred sighed with an atypical disappointment. Why had he even thought the witch would do anything for anyone but herself? And just why was he so disappointed in her for refusing him?

As Fred left her office, in the same manner he had entered it, Asteria watched him in stunned silence. His words, for the first time ever, had made a dent in her armour. And, though she'd sooner die before admitting it aloud, Asteria was hurt.