Book 3: Astoria Greengrass and the Legilimens of Hogwarts
Song rec: "Месечинко льо, грейливка" (≈ "Little Moon, Radiant")
"But the horror of Death is an ecstasy,
And the sweetest song is an elegy,
And the loveliest flowers in the world for me
Are the roses which bloom on the cypress-tree"
-J. C. Squire
"With people who become acquainted at a glance, and old friends in an hour, wooing is naturally not a long process. Indeed, it may be said that between lovers among mind-readers there is no wooing, but merely recognition." -E. Bellamy
I tried my best to format the Legilimency scenes.
Align center + italics indicate the memories themselves.
Align center + bold + italics indicate the train of present thought that interrupts the memories.
The formatting was sometimes frustrating, but I am proud of this chapter. It provides insight into events that happened in the previous stories and serves to foreshadow the next. I think this gets into the complexity of all the characters' story arcs as well. I hope you enjoy it!
Everyone's mood seemed to change for the worse after Easter holiday. Rhiannon had been affected by watching the Greengrasses try to ship off their valuables, and was sifting through her possessions repeatedly. Astoria noticed that Rhiannon had nonsensically cut up some of her bedclothes and used them to pad the valuable objects in her suitcase, forcing the house-elves to replace the laundry. The twins were bruised and stony-eyed from having to spend a weekend at home. Hestia was not showing her usual level of public affection toward Rhiannon. Draco looked so upset that Astoria thought somebody close to him might have died. Even the people Astoria was not cosy with were upset. Ginny Weasley hinted to her in Potions that she was having a difficult time with her boyfriend, Dean, and was trying to think of ways to break it off. When Astoria responded that she had never been the one to break up a relationship before, Ginny said, "I thought you would know some etiquette thing that would make it a breeze."
Astoria received the second volume of Legilimency in Practice from Professor Sinistra after Astronomy on Tuesday night. Draco asked if he could see her cast the spell again, but Astoria reminded him quietly that her lessons were supposed to be secret, and that Tracey was right in front of them.
"Oh, right. You told me that. Why aren't you learning Occlumency instead, again?"
"I'm supposed to learn both, but I'm no good at Occlumency. It ends up simply being Professor Sinistra roaming my whole mind."
"You should work on it even more if that's the case."
Astoria noticed Draco's warning tone, and his lack of offering to teach it to her in Professor Sinistra's place did not sit well with her. Yet there were only so many times she would ask him what was wrong. If he wasn't going to tell her, that was his choice. When Tracey retired and only Draco and Theodore remained on the couch, Astoria took the book back out of her satchel to demonstrate.
"Legilimens."
It was unlike reading; it was more like being spoken to. Professor Sinistra said it would be a good sign if it felt less like archaeology and more like browsing at a shop when using this book. Astoria was struggling slightly, but anything was better than losing her sight and stumbling like the very first time she cast it. She merely held the book in her hands and looked at it like any other object in the room, yet it was projecting so much to her. Books crafted to be read with Legilimency really did come alive, and the better Astoria got at the art, the more entertaining it was to read. This time, she was able to skip the preface and acknowledgements like she desired, and she even uncovered the name of the highly elusive author.
"Well, I am Gwendela Bagshot. No, not the History of Magic lady. That is my aunt, and she is nothing but an old fogey. Chapter one is over here if you are interested. Yes, right over here. If you have made it this far in my series, you should expect at least a few of the following statements to be true of yourself and your daily experiences:
1. You have an increased understanding of the general motivations, goals, and moods of those close to you.
2. People have accused you of "reading minds," which is, as you know, hardly a sufficient explanation of the art.
3. The results of speaking with people have become more obvious and less rewarding.
4. In spite of the drawbacks, you hunger for more skill in Legilimency.
5. You are under the impression that you know what is going to happen next. You, my dear reader, could not be more incorrect. Legilimency is becoming aware of what is already present in the minds of others. If you are interested in Divination, then this is not the book for you; although, my other text, The Inner Workings of the Inner Eye may interest you.
6. If you are particularly shrewd, you will become aware of point number 6 here… yes, hello. This is simply my confession of the shameless advertising present in point 5. I do not readily admit this to the casual reader, but I need the funds to partake in the exchange programme at the Durmstrang Institute. Buy my books! Please, please buy my books! You know you want to!"
Astoria could probably have read this book until the point of exhaustion, but she had only started it to demonstrate the spell to Draco and decided to come out of her concentration. She told him all about what she had read and how it was coming much easier to her. She was able to pick up on the nuances of the author and recognise exact phrases rather than rely on a general understanding of the book. Draco looked impressed, whilst Theodore, who was also an Occlumens, was nonetheless mightily intimidated.
"Bagshot, you said?" Theodore chatted without looking at Astoria's face. "How old is the book?"
"Legilimens," Astoria said with the solitary goal of finding the publication date. To her shock and pride, the book answered her call.
"This book was published in August, eighteen hundred and seventy-seven. The previous volume was published in January. You can expect the next volume in the spring of next year. Oh, pardon me; it is much more likely that you are reading this book after the publication of the final volume. I ask that you not worry so much about the date. The art remains the same. I am probably dead whilst you read this! Ha ha! We're all dead for much longer than we are alive, isn't that true? Well… it's probably not true of my aunt. I think she was born during the Renaissance."
"She says it's from 1877," Astoria answered. "Along with many other comments…"
"Is it hard to understand?" Draco asked curiously. "I mean, her style of writing must be old-fashioned. Does that make casting the spell more difficult?"
"There's not really a style of writing. It reads as though she's speaking right from her train of thought, so I understand this book perfectly so far. This one's much more interesting now that I've got to know the art," Astoria said, then she smiled from ear to ear when she realised that she could hold a conversation with Draco and listen to the book at the same time.
"You seek information on the language of this text, which brings up an excellent point about the art of Legilimency. I must repeat that it can not be called, with any suitability, "mind-reading," because if it were truly reading, there would be a language. This is more akin to "understanding of the mind." I've said this a million times. Speakers of any language, if they are gifted, can understand this book. I will add, however, that it was so exhausting to compose this series that if it does not become the authoritative text in Legilimency, I will rightfully throw a tantrum. No, I am not revealing my secret regarding how I composed this book. Other authors on the subject will simply have to make do with boring paper and ink. Ha!"
As Astoria "understood" the book, she attempted to relay the information back to Draco and Theodore in real-time. At that point, however, she felt mental exhaustion creeping, and it was not simply from the fact that it was nearing midnight. It was a heavy and cloudy feeling rather than sleepiness, such as the feeling when she calculated Arithmancy homework for too long.
"You're blacking out, Astoria," Draco said, shaking her gently. "Like when you first cast it."
"Yes, I can tell…" Astoria said, holding the side of her head. "Well, I do have Legilimency lessons tomorrow, so I should go to sleep soon. Goodnight, Theodore. Goodnight, Draco."
"Are we meeting after Legilimency?" Draco asked.
Theodore made a disapproving noise.
"Yes, that sounds nice," said Astoria.
Maybe Draco would want to talk about what was bothering him… Then again, maybe not. That was why he was such a good Occlumens.
After a long morning of Transfiguration, D.A.D.A., and History of Magic, Astoria trudged up Astronomy Tower. She disliked how an exhausting task like Legilimency had to be right after three of the most fatiguing classes, but she did what she was asked to do and arrived right on time. Professor Sinistra crossed her legs self-assuredly and started using Legilimency straightaway once Astoria stepped into the Astronomy library.
"So, you like the second book. Well, I shan't surprise you anymore by sneaking them upon you. There are four books in the series — five if you count her unfinished one. Oh, you're jealous, dear, that I can do this without pointing my wand. I have many more years of working in Legilimency than you do, and you must remember that you are no Occlumens. Which brings me to my next point…"
Professor Sinistra Summoned one of the comfier chairs from the other corner of the library, and it arrived without making a single scratch on the floor. Astoria took a seat and folded her hands in her lap. She never drew her wand until Professor Sinistra told her to. It seemed like the right thing to do in a Legilimency class, even if the professor herself dived right in.
"Professor Snape has informed me that my Occlumency has deteriorated to the point of discomfiture," Professor Sinistra said in a businesslike tone. "I was never the strongest Occlumens, but then again, nor was I ever an open book. For today's lesson, I would like to rebuild my defences from, as Severus says, 'scratch.'"
"Yes, Professor," Astoria said.
"You're saying yes, but you don't know what I mean."
"No, Professor, I don't."
Professor Sinistra blinked her eyes rapidly and curled her lips, saying, "In all of our lessons, we have both been extracting strong memories beforehand. I believe this has lulled me into a sense of security regarding the strength of my Occlumency. I cannot allow these memories to hinder me, nor can I safely keep them in the phials we've been using lest they fall into the wrong hands during the war. For this lesson, I was hoping we could help each other."
"Oh, you'd like to practise Occlumency with all of your memories whilst I practise Legilimency?" Astoria sought to confirm, since she was nervous at the prospect.
"That is what I mean, if you do not object to it, dear. I cannot expect to restore my Occlumency by throwing half of my life's memories into jars. I would like to practise blocking the things I do not want you to see. Based on your ability to open the second Legilimency book, you have reached such a level that this will be worthwhile. Of course, where my Occlumency fails, you may think differently of me or become disturbed. As you know, I have not led a carefree life."
"If I can be of help, I will do it, Professor. With your skill in Legilimency, I'm surprised you don't think differently of me," Astoria said, finding her strength in the trust the woman placed in her.
"When I know so much about everybody," Professor Sinistra said, "one person rarely manages to be conspicuous enough to change my opinion. You really are a normal girl, Astoria. Everyone your age feels insecure."
Astoria nodded. Professor Sinistra had Winky bring them some tea and snacks. One might have thought they were going to have a talk about the weather, it was so calm. Ultimately, though, Astoria had to draw her wand without having the reassurance of Professor Sinistra's comfort and ease. Astoria's very favourite professor, her role model, and, she liked to think, her friend, sat before her uncensored and in need of help. Professor Sinistra, due to her connections, might one day have to face more Death Eaters or worse, You-Know-Who. She couldn't do that without Occlumency, but Astoria had to know one more thing before she started.
"Professor, I'm more than willing to help you, but I was wondering why you did not have Professor Snape do this. He is the one who noticed the breach in your Occlumency."
"Would you have Rhiannon help you with this?" Professor Sinistra responded, her dark brown eyes glinting. "Without taking a single thing out of your head?"
"Ah… no," Astoria acknowledged.
"Exactly. Carry on, Astoria."
"Legilimens," Astoria said, and at first, the spell was always the same. She focused on the eyes of the professor and began seeing images common to both of them. Astronomy classes, scenes of the castle, the panorama of Hogsmeade and a plethora of familiar faces, but then people started saying things Astoria had never heard personally. Little snippets became whole sentences. Whole sentences were met by the automatic running commentary of Professor Sinistra's stream of consciousness. Then, at last, there was a dark pool, and the room Astoria sat in seemed irrelevant to the wealth of information and stories within Professor Sinistra. It was like watching a play at the theatre, only Astoria was in the moment as much as the actors.
"Ah, I see," Professor Sinistra said aloud, clutching her chair. "I must feel guilty about the wand."
Astoria recognised Ollivander's shop… with boxes of wands stacked clear to the ceiling. Professor Sinistra was very small, smaller than Astoria, and had little jewels in her delightfully puffy hair that bounced when she ran to look at the wands. She was so excited to go to school. Her parents stood off to the side, and her mother muttered concerns that she would become dependent on a wand. Then, Astoria cracked the shell of the memory entirely.
I am eleven years old. Mama uses her hands for magic and hopes that I'll only use my wand when the teachers at Hogwarts tell me to, but I want to use it all the time. I'm so excited to get one, but I have to wait for Ollivander to finish with the boy ahead of me. I tried stepping forward to get a better look, but an old man in a stupid hat glares at me. I'll try stepping round the woman…
That's much better. Ollivander has a stack of five — no, six — boxes ready to try out on the boy in front of me. I wonder how many he'll let me try out. Will I get my own stack? Are those just the ones he's really trying to sell? No, wait… the boy looks happy with that wand. That must be the one, then.
"Well, now, my boy, what we have here is a match. This is a yew wand, with a unicorn tail hair core. One of my more unusual combinations…" Ollivander says. He's very cheerful, but the old man in the stupid hat is growing fussy.
"What do you mean 'unusual'?"
He's being very rude. He's embarrassing the boy.
"Father, there are people waiting behind us."
"Barty, there are always going to be people behind you. Settle down. Now, Ollivander, what do you mean by selling a yew wand to my son?"
I don't need to pay any attention to the old man in the stupid hat. Barty is the boy's name. He seems shy. Shyer than me and shorter than me. He's completely covered in freckles! It's funny.
"I'm so excited to go to Hogwarts," I tell Barty. "I wonder what kind of wand I'll get."
Barty might not talk to me. He's just staring. He has dark eyes even though he's really pale. Maybe he's too shy.
"Probably a pretty one," he says.
"I'd like a pretty one," I answer. I'm so glad he talked to me. I don't have any good friends.
"My name's Aurora."
Barty is staring at his dad. Oh, now he's waving me over to where he is. Maybe I can sneak past his dad…
"You can call me Jonah," he tells me like it's a big secret.
"I thought your name was Barty."
"I don't like my first name. Jonah's my middle name."
"Okay… Jonah."
It's my turn for the wands. The old man in the stupid hat is buying the yew wand for Jonah after all. Ollivander places me on a step and measures my arm, and then the measuring tape circles all round me and even measures my head. I tell him I'm left-handed. He is rubbing his chin and looking at the shelves. He gets me my own stack. I get to pick from eight wands! How wonderful! Oh, maybe it's not all that great… the first three are just different varieties of pine wands… They feel like lead when I wave them.
It's going to take me to the very bottom of the pile of wands to get it right. The one on the bottom looks nearly as big as my arm. If it doesn't work, Ollivander will have to get another pile. That's embarrassing. It's really getting busy in here.
"Cypress and dragon heartstring, sixteen inches. Unyielding. My, my, Miss Sinistra, I once imagined this one would be a replacement wand for an older witch. But it feels right, doesn't it?"
It does feel right in my hand. I don't want to swish it too much or I'll knock the boxes over. I put it over my head and wave it at the ceiling. Astronomy is my favourite, anyway!
I wonder what the difference is between yew and cypress.
…
I am thirty-four years old. Rhiannon has damaged her wand in Severus's class, and he sent her to Professor Babbling to see if it could be saved. Rhiannon tells me it's going to take the professor a while to get a hold of Acromantula web to repair the wand. Severus has therefore sent her here. He knows I have spares. I keep them at home, though, so it's going to take a walk down to Hogsmeade. I can't take Rhiannon with me, though. There may be dementors outside, and my house is a wreck. I grab the box from my dresser and hurry back to school.
"Here are the wands," I tell Rhiannon, and her face lights up. She hovers her hand over them for a moment like she's dowsing. I then realise that I had added Jonah's to the box. Damn it. I thought I'd put it in its own. That night was bad; I don't remember all I did.
Rhiannon picks Jonah's wand. Of course she picks Jonah's. I shouldn't have even brought that one… it was in with the rest of them. Why did I do this? I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid. It was just in the same box as the rest of them. I couldn't bury these. I couldn't bury any of these wands like you're supposed to. My whole family is in this box. What's wrong with me?
"Try the other ones for the record, Rhiannon," I tell her, even though it's obvious Jonah's is going to work for her. I'm thinking maybe Papa's will work for her. No, it doesn't. She puts it down. She waves Mama's and tries casting a Levitation charm. That one doesn't even work. Mama's wand had so little use to it… she did everything with their hands… surely it should have worked for the poor girl. Rhiannon picks up Euley Crouch's wand and has a go with it. The charms work, but they're not great. If only mine wasn't made with a left-handed handle, I'd offer it instead. Why couldn't mine have had a universal handle, or no handle? Why did she want Jonah's so badly?
"Oh, I get it. This one's his, ain't it?" Rhiannon asks me, setting down Euley's and returning to the first one she chose. She's so aware. She misses him. She misses who he pretended to be. When she thinks of him, she refers to him as Professor Crouch. I hate that. He lied to me. I should have never let her know about him.
"That one's his, yes."
It's all I can say. That wand won't be hurting anybody anymore if it's in Rhiannon's hands. She gently Disarms it from me. It's hers until her real wand is fixed. I think Astoria knows, and she's worried. I feel so bad. Rhiannon's wand could take forever to be repaired, now that Ollivander's missing… The Death Eaters got him. They're just taking anybody these days. I bet Rabastan's involved.
Astoria needed a rest, though Professor Sinistra's internal monologue kept going as she pulled out of the spell. Professor Sinistra was looking at her feet. Her composure had been robbed. It was Astoria's fault.
"No, Astoria, it's not your fault. Severus was right. I've lost my edge."
"Rhiannon isn't having the slightest trouble with that wand. She says it was made better than hers," Astoria said. "But Professor Babbling told me she's procured the web for Rhiannon's core and will have her wand back by the end of the month."
"Good, that's good."
"You shouldn't feel so guilty, Professor. Rhiannon is going to feel that way about him, wand or not. When he talked to her, it proved to her that we're all the same, because he knew she was Muggle-born," Astoria said carefully to try to help. "Slytherin wasn't a good place for her. Her home environment was even worse. The way he looked out for her, even if it was a random decision on his part, still sits with her because she knows he was loyal to You-Know-Who. It makes her feel not so different in the end. It's her own little way of laughing in the Dark Lord's face, I think."
"Very well," the professor answered. "Shall we continue? I need to be able to throw you out somehow."
Astoria had a brief realisation that she was being used. Professor Sinistra had picked her to learn Legilimency because she was the only one she trusted to cast it on her. This was in preparation for the war. This wasn't for Astoria's education. But Astoria brushed the thought aside quickly before Professor Sinistra knew she had caught on.
"Yes, Ma'am. Legilimens," Astoria cast.
I am thirty-two years old. I have to chaperone this stupid dance. I want to go home, but that would disappoint Professor Dumbledore. At least old man Crouch isn't here anymore. He's sick on Christmas. How sad, a crying shame. I hope he dies.
Why did I order potato soup? I didn't want potato soup. Alastor Moody's eye rolls over to me. I should have sat somewhere else. I just don't want to be near that Percy Weasley boy… He works for old man Crouch.
"You can order something else, Professor. Steak's good," Moody says to me.
"Do I look that miserable about the soup?"
"Aye, you do. But if you and potato soup have a history, I don't want to intrude."
He chuckles to himself. I order the steak. I don't want steak, either. Damn it. I need sleep.
"What do you say to a dance, Professor Sinistra?"
What? A dance? Me and the old Auror. How absurd. An Auror.
"Come on, these boys can't be that bad at singing. Unless you're saving the first dance for Professor Snape."
Snape? Why does everyone think Snape and I are having an affair? Doesn't this old coot know better? Does Severus even dance? Do I even dance?
Here I am. Getting ready to dance with this Auror. I haven't danced in fifteen years. I thought I was just supposed to sit here and make sure no one gets pregnant at the Yule Ball. Why does Moody insist on talking to me? Does he feel sorry for me because he was part of the team that arrested my husband? He's an unbelievable Occlumens… I won't know. I wonder if Severus can crack him.
"What business have you in this old skull of mine, Professor?"
Ah. He's caught on. I'm being rude, aren't I? It's rude of me to try Legilimency. I should be honest. Moody means no harm. He was only doing his job back then… Jonah hadn't done it, but he was guilty of other things.
"I'm tempted to think you brought me out here because you and I have more history than even the potato soup and I have."
Moody laughs, "We do, do we?"
I don't want to watch this, Astoria.
Astoria withdrew from her spell instantly but was met with Professor Sinistra's baffled expression. She ordered her to keep going — that they were starting to breach the point of where she completely lost control of her Occlumency.
"But Professor!"
"Oh, you're not used to this, I forgot," Professor Sinistra shook her head. "The mind does not take very kindly to this spell. You're going to hear me think all sorts of nasty things. Listen to me, Astoria — I don't want you exiting my mind until you reach the point of exhaustion, or unless you don't want to see something. I'm going to object to your Legilimency a million times before I get a hold of myself again. If I'm especially bad at Occlumency, I might leave this chair and start panicking. But do not listen to me. I cannot face Rabastan Lestrange if I am weak like this, and if I may be direct, dear, I mean to bring him down."
Astoria stammered an affirmative. This really was a lot to ask of her. It had escalated way beyond the farce of recommended reading.
"Seriously, Astoria."
"Right. Okay. Ready? Legilimens."
Professor Moody has just made fun of Harry Potter's socks. His socks aren't showing. He must see them with his mad eye.
"Oh yeah. Dobby the house-elf knitted them," Harry says with a smile.
Moody laughs. I'd like to see these socks myself if they're so amusing. Then again, the girl Harry's with said that Moody was being a creep with his magical eye. He'd better not be using that eye on me. But maybe he just sees under everybody's clothes. The way I see in everybody's head. Props to him for not laughing his arse off every day, then. We've stepped on a few people so far, but I really didn't mean to step on Astoria.
"Astoria, I'm sorry," I say.
"It's quite all right!" she says. She knows Moody's doing his best with this wooden leg. Oh. The boy she's dancing with doesn't really care about her. She'll figure it out.
I'm sorry, Astoria. It was my thought at the time. We don't have to use this memory. We can use another memory over here… It's still useful…
"Astoria, what did I just tell you?" Professor Sinistra said impatiently when Astoria obediently left the memory of the Yule Ball and found a memory of the professor's first owl dying.
"You told me to find another memory, Professor," Astoria gasped. "In your thoughts."
"No, that's what I want you to do, but that's not what I need you to do! I know you have the power to break the force of my Occlumency. If I'm resorting to redirection, that's pathetic! Do you think Death Eaters are going to listen to me when I say 'Come over here!' I hated the way Rabastan looked at me in Azkaban."
"Yes, Professor," Astoria accepted.
"Do you understand now?"
"Yes, Professor. Legilimens!"
Professor Moody is speaking to me over the music. It's a rather long song. I think it's sad. Why would you open with a sad song? I wish the Hobgoblins were still together. None of this swirly dancing would be going on. Jonah and I used to go wild at those concerts.
"You've made quite a career out of Astronomy, Professor. I heard you're the chief editor of the Polaris guides."
"Oh, well, nobody reads those."
"I do, young lady! And you've given presentations for the Agency of Atmospheric and Space Magic, I heard. That's impressive is what it is. You have a lot of ungrateful students. I commend you for having done this for so long. Now, me, I don't think I'll have this job for very long. It's for the best — can't stand most of their attitudes."
"Well, thank you, Professor. I do have some wonderful students, though. We stepped on one such student's foot not long ago."
"Greengrass? Yeah, she's got a habit of bringing your homework to my class. She has her friend Rhiannon Clarke keep lookout, as if I don't know what they're up to. They're good kids, though. Clarke's just finished up a detention with me."
"Detention?"
"I said good kids, not angels. Ah, there goes Snape."
Yes, there he goes, off to stop people from fondling each other. He's good at that sort of thing.
"It's good you found him after… well…" Moody says to me very closely.
He's acting… It's all an act. I don't want to watch this. I don't want to watch my husband lie to me… How could he dare speak to me about Severus when he ran to Voldemort?
"After what?" I ask.
What does he mean 'found' him? Severus and I are not having an affair. Maybe Alastor Moody found somebody else as a widower. But Snape and I aren't like that. Jonah and Lily died not far apart from each other. It's a good thing we are there for each other, yes, but we're close friends… Jonah and Lily… Moody would never understand about Jonah and Lily. Oh, I get it. It's our Legilimency wavelength. Moody sees Severus and I using a wavelength all the time to understand each other without speaking. But Jonah and I did that more. We'd go a whole day without talking. Nobody knew our secrets.
"It's been a long time since you lost your husband, Professor. I thought a young lady like yourself would have found somebody. Well, maybe not the likes of Snape."
"There is no one except my husband," I say. I'm offended. I don't like this. I don't dance with Aurors. I don't talk to Aurors. My husband was wrongfully convicted by his own father. Rabastan set him up. Rabastan was the one, not Jonah. Jonah had no sense in his skull.
"I'm a widower myself, Professor Sinistra. Don't get me wrong. I know what it's like. I never remarried. I never re-anything. I miss my wife terribly. I'd do anything to see her again."
I don't want to hear this from him.
"My husband is very misguided," I say, "but the time we had together is precious to me. We've been together for longer than you realise. We started dating in our third year. He was there for me when my parents passed away. He's always there for me. I feel like…"
Astoria, please… don't.
"He's never left me, really," I say.
…No, God, why…
"Is that why you talk about him in the present tense?" Moody says inconsiderately.
Please, I don't want to watch him say this again!
"Yes, because I know in my heart he is even with me now."
"Grief's a long process. But you're right about that feeling. My wife never left me, either," Moody says wistfully. "Well put, Professor."
GET OUT! GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!
Professor Sinistra was slumped forward in her chair, sweaty and upset, but coming to her senses. Astoria ordered Winky to get her an iced goblet of water, which she took. She averted her eyes from Astoria whilst she drank it and used few words.
"That is the point at which I Occlude, then. Severus was right. Gah…"
"Professor?"
"We must continue. It benefits us both."
Benefits us both? What good was this doing for Astoria? All that was coming out of this was that she was learning the deep personal life of the professor. It seemed so inappropriate.
"Is there anything in particular that I should…?"
"Search for? Yes. Rabastan. Because when Rabastan arrives, the first thing he'll do is look for himself in my eyes," Professor Sinistra said sternly.
"Legilimens," Astoria said after a breath deeper than Professor Sinistra's.
"Auroraaa!"
I am thirteen years old. Rabastan Lestrange has beat Jonah for the position of Keeper on our Quidditch team. He is coming to tell me about it. I know he is. They're classmates now that Rabastan has been detained another year. He should be in his O.W.L. classes, but instead he's here. There's something about his eyes I don't like. I don't want him looking at me. He stares too long, and in the wrong places.
"I'm the new Keeper, Aurora."
"I heard," I say.
Jonah earned this more than you did, Rabastan. You act like his friend, and then copy his homework and make fun of him behind his back. How pitiful you must be to copy his homework. They already retained you two years.
"Well I made a bet, you see," Rabastan says.
I don't say anything. Rabastan's bet is with my patience.
"I bet Valfrid Lofthouse that if I got Keeper, I would get to ask you on a date before him."
He can't be serious. He's now the worst bully in our class. Lofthouse isn't much better. What makes these creeps think I want them?
"So?" Rabastan says, crossing his arms.
"So what?" I ask.
Rabastan gives a snort and looks at his mates behind him.
"Will you go on the Hogsmeade trip with me, that's what."
"No," I say.
He looks back at his mates and laughs. He is rolling his eyes. I know what he is thinking. I always know what he is thinking because he's weak. He makes really dirty jokes about me with his friends. He thinks dirty things. He's too old.
"Why not? I'm nice to you." Rabastan claims.
"You're only nice to me for the wrong reasons. It's not really being nice, then, is it? You're a bully to all of my friends."
"Suit yourself, Aurora. But you should have gone with me. Valfrid's a loser."
"You're both losers," I say, and Rabastan and the rest of his boys all start jeering.
"Oooooooooo," they all say, smacking one another's arms.
I don't like any of them. I meet up with Glenda, and we walk away. They call her a half-breed. If they really wanted a chance with me, they'd treat my friends better. The boy I really like is Jonah Crouch. He always helps Glenda through doors she can't enter because of her vampire heritage. He's very respectful of me and my friends. He's considerate and sweet. I can talk to him about anything in the world.
The memory dripped away like tears on watercolour paints. Astoria next discerned January snow, and a luggage-crowded dormitory. There was a twinge of excitement somewhere, and Astoria uncovered another scene.
We're back from winter holiday in our third year. I put on my prettiest robes. I packed them just for this, and nothing else. I've planned this out, second-by-second. Glenda nods at me. I go out to the common room, trying to catch Jonah before the back-to-school dinner. I see his messy blond head bent over a book by the underwater window. He sits alone.
"Hi, Jonah. How was your holiday?" I ask.
"A-Aurora, hi. How was yours?" Jonah diverts instantly.
"We went to see my mother's family in Morocco, and my father's family in Sardinia. It was very nice," I say.
Jonah smiles warmly at me, but he doesn't say anything else. He shies behind his Arithmancy textbook. He must have read during his whole break; he takes too many classes. Maybe he'll think I'm silly to ask him. Maybe I'll take too much of his time away from his studies.
"Something's on your mind?" Jonah asks.
I'm incredibly nervous, and I say, "Yes, you are. All of the time, practically."
I have Jonah's full attention now. His big brown eyes blink at me cluelessly. We've been the best of friends since starting school. More time has been spent together than apart. Doesn't he know?
"I would be very happy if you would be my boyfriend," I giggle, watching his skin turn red beneath his freckles.
Then Jonah sticks his tongue out at me, and I lose all my confidence. Maybe he doesn't feel the same way, but did he really have to make a face at my question? That isn't like him. I'm so embarrassed. Where did I go wrong?
"I'm sorry," I sputter in shame. I wouldn't have asked if I really thought he was going to do this. Maybe he'd say "we should just be friends," but why would he start mocking me?
"Aurora, wait!" Jonah exclaims before I can run away.
He rubs his wrist on his face.
"Did I make a face? I'm sorry. I got nervous. Are you serious about… what you said?"
"You got nervous, so you stuck your tongue out at me?" I ask cautiously.
Jonah shakes his head. Now he's as red as a Gryffindor banner. His voice lowers, and I draw closer to him.
"I'm sorry, Aurora. It's not on purpose. My father sent me to St Mungo's and had the Healers put me on this potion over the holiday. He said I was too much. He said if he wanted something as jumpy and loud as me, he would have got a dog. I'm, er, weaning myself off now that I'm at school, but I don't think the twitches it gave me are going to go away. Mother was worried about the potion since it makes me move my face when I don't want to, but Father said… he'd put her on it too… if she kept up her panicking."
I'm silent and still. I don't know what to say; I never do when Jonah tells me these stories from home. His father has been what I would call neglectful, but the few times he did take an active role in the family, it always had a negative outcome.
"Jonah, I'm sorry. I misunderstood. I thought you were teasing me. It made me nervous, too. I thought maybe you were about to tell me, er, 'no…'"
"Aurora! I've always had a crush on you," Jonah laughs with joy. "I was wondering how you felt. I didn't have the guts to ask. You're so cool, and I'm just a drip."
"I-Is that a yes?"
"It's more than a yes," Jonah says, and he takes my hand in his. We become each other's worlds.
…
I am sixteen years old. Rabastan is staring at me from across the common room. He knows Dark magic now, more than I do, and I don't like to be alone in the room with him. Rabastan supports You-Know-Who. He says he talks to Severus, but that can't be true. Severus graduated. Why would he have anything to do with you, Rabastan? Severus was my friend. I hate you — you can't take my friend. You're no good. You're gross and cruel.
Rabastan walks over to me because he doesn't have anybody's homework to cheat off of. I put my homework away. Now he's prying about something else.
"Are you so sure about this, Aurora?" he asks me in a slimy voice, pointing at my engagement ring.
"What do you want now, Lestrange?"
I know what he wants. There's not very much to this weirdo. Plus, he wants to serve You-Know-Who. He wants to kill Muggles and Muggle-borns, and kill half-bloods, and kill blood-traitors… He's a genocidal maniac. And I'm a blood-traitor. I've always been a blood-traitor. He doesn't want to kill me, though, because he thinks he can get in my pants. He's so gross.
"You're practically doing this the moment you're of age. Just can't hold out, hm? Aren't you a little young to be marrying?"
"Well, aren't you a little old to still be in your seventh year?"
"Ah, very funny, Aurora. Very funny. Are you sure you know Barty well enough to marry him?" Rabastan asks, with his crooked-toothed smile.
"Jonah is my fiancé, not yours," I say.
"Well, I think he's a tosser," Rabastan spits.
"Look who's talking! Get away from me."
"If only it were that easy for me, Aurora. One day you're going to learn I'm the better wizard."
…
I am nineteen years old. My sheets are tangled, and Jonah's not in bed. I think I slept in late. I always wake up first. I hear Jonah's voice downstairs. It's reassuring to hear…
Oh no! It's almost eleven! How did this happen? How did I sleep in this late? My alarm? What happened to my alarm? Professor Kleinhardt is going to kill me for missing my internship! What have I done?
"Jonah! Is something wrong? Why didn't you wake me up?" I say, hurrying down the stairs.
Jonah is at the kitchen table with… with Rabastan Lestrange. No. Not this creep. Not in my house.
"Excuse me? What's going on? How could we both miss work?"
"Please sit down, princess," Jonah says.
Somebody's died. The Death Eaters have got somebody again. Why is Rabastan here? Is he their messenger? Why is he drinking our tea? Why would Jonah even serve him tea?
Jonah grabs both of my hands and for a moment, the world is ours, and Rabastan is not there. We speak to each other through Legilimency. Rabastan can never touch this. His newfound Legilimency is too weak for our wavelength. Jonah informs me gently that Professor Kleinhardt has been found dead. This is terrible news. My Astronomy professor, gone… He was the best. He was like family after my parents passed.
I feel terrible thinking this at such an awful time, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I also wonder what will become of my internship. My parents did not have much money to leave us in their will. We managed to build a house, but the Crouches gave us nothing. Old man Crouch didn't want him to marry me. My internship is nothing compared to the death of my teacher, but I still need to know how we're going to eat, and Jonah senses this because I never Occlude him.
He strokes my hands and informs me that Dumbledore is promoting me to the position of Astronomy professor based on my performance and the tragedy. I ask Jonah what the hell Rabastan is doing in our home, and I notice he begins to Occlude me when he answers. Do you think I don't feel this new addition to your walls, Jonah? Do you think I can't feel the change? We are starting to argue, still within the spell's wavelength… It gives me a headache, and I try to remain as composed as humanly possible whilst I tell Rabastan to leave.
"I am sorry to come with such bad news, Aurora, Jonah," Rabastan sighs, looking from me to him, to me again.
"I do hope this helps you, Aurora," Rabastan breathes over the steam of his tea, and I notice his teacup is now full of Galleons.
It's the biggest fight Jonah and I have ever had. I tell him Rabastan's a Death Eater. He says no, he just happens to be a sympathiser.
"Isn't that bad enough, Jonah?" I scream.
We never scream. We never, ever scream.
Rabastan killed my professor. I know it now, seeing this memory now. Professor Kleinhardt was Muggle-born. I know that's what he did. I'm going to kill Rabastan before he kills me. I'll kill him with my bare hands if I have to. That bastard killed my professor to say that I owed him, to say that he got me the promotion. Jonah's too stupid. Little did I know, Jonah was already obsessed with the Dark Lord. He thinks he's crown prince. He's mad. It's already too late, and I haven't a clue. His Occlumency…
…
I am nineteen years old. Whenever I cannot sleep, I sift through Jonah's dreams with Legilimency. I do this because he said it makes him feel better. He's gone through my dreams before, and he's right. The dreams are sweeter when they're being dipped into and played with. That's why I stir his dreams round now, to hear him sigh contentedly in his sleep. When I do this, his comfort alone has lulled me to sleep before. Not tonight.
My husband's the greatest Occlumens in history. I think I'm seeing everything, but I'm not. I don't even feel him Occlude me unless he panics and pushes me backward. He can do it in his sleep. And right now, I can't even do it awake with a schoolgirl…
I cannot sleep because I feel the presence of other wizards, I discover. I sit up and pull my dressing robe over me. My wand is ready.
"Jonah," I say, and he stirs.
"What, princess? What's wrong?"
"Jonah, I think there are Aurors outside the house."
And then his expression changes, and he is so afraid that I cannot even tell that he is sleepy. Now I panic. Jonah takes his wand just as I am putting mine down.
"Jonah, we can't aim wands at Aurors. We'll just have to talk to them and find out what they want, right? We just have to answer the door when they knock, right?"
Wrong, it's three in the morning. Aurors don't pop in for a visit at three in the morning. I'm so stupid.
"Must be Lestrange… That little fuck," Jonah hisses.
"WHAT?"
"Alright, Aurora, settle down. We can handle this. Come into my mind. There are things you need to know."
And I'm in his head, and I'm noticing how much deeper the waters are. Deeper than he'd ever let me swim in before, and here I'd thought I'd seen it all. And there it is. Rabastan, the Death Eaters, and his secret love of You-Know-Who. It floods my mind with terror. How could my husband be a follower of the Dark Lord? My very own husband. He's been hiding this. But how is this possible? He doesn't believe the ideology of the Death Eaters. He's just enamoured with the man alone… Voldemort…
My husband's psychotic. This ocean does not end. His mind goes on and on and on into blackness. There are inlets with no thought, there are bays with no fish. The moon of his intellect shines above me, but the ocean of his deepest desires do not reflect the light. He is mad. Delusional.
You saw what I saw just now, didn't you Astoria? You're in his head, too. You see the extent of it, of what I saw.
He believes we'll be rewarded in the Dark Lord's reign, me and him… Two nobodies from Hogsmeade… How has he hidden this from me all this time? It physically hurts to be this far in. No, he can't pull me into this delusion with him. No.
Jonah leads me to what I search in his mind, and I see him amongst stacks and stacks of Ministry files. He's been breaching the Ministry to defame his abusive father, and he's found another purpose to his actions. He's started giving information about Aurors to the Lestranges. The Lestranges are Death Eaters. Oh my God, he's gone to Voldemort himself. He's given people's identities and addresses. Their relatives. Their histories. He's… my Jonah is a Death Eater… No. No. How did I not know about this?
I really don't want to see this.
Jonah opens our door for the Aurors and starts to lie to them, too… But they grab him. They don't waste any time. I am crying, I am trying to reach Jonah through Legilimency, just to talk to him… Just to know what will happen to us. One of the Aurors catches onto this and seizes me. It's Alastor Moody. He subdues Jonah with a hex, and Jonah cannot cast Legilimency to reach me. I do not know what to do. Jonah still looks confident, but he's watching Moody's hold on me.
He never forgets a face. Jonah never forgets anything, and now I can't either. I don't want this. I already know what happens. Stop.
"It's going to be all right, princess. It's a misunderstanding," Jonah says aloud to me. "Probably something to do with my father."
"Like hell it is!" Moody screams above my head. "Bartemius Crouch Junior, you are being arrested in connection with the torture and psychological annihilation of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom with the Unforgivable Cruciatus Curse!"
"What‽ What the hell do you mean?" Jonah screams back. "I didn't cast that! What the hell are you talking about‽"
DAMN IT, ASTORIA, I'M TRYING!
Jonah's afraid now. He is very afraid, but not as afraid as I am. This has got out of his hands. Jonah has freely gone looking for Voldemort. He wants his approval. This is what happens when you do shit like that, Jonah.
"Aurora, I didn't do that! Aurora, I swear! I swear I didn't! Aurora!"
Rabastan has done this. He's brought Jonah down with him. I know Jonah didn't do it, but he certainly saw to it that the Lestranges knew how to. I can't look at him. He loves me too much, and it's spilling out of his mouth. I cannot reconcile this love with what he did. Not now. Not now, Jonah. I'll see you in gaol in the morning. There is something wrong with you.
"Aurora! Please, Aurora, you have to believe me! I don't know about this!"
"I know, Jonah! Okay? I know!"
He doesn't get it. He doesn't get anything. He doesn't get that what he did was wrong. It's all Voldemort. He thinks he's the son of Voldemort. He's lost it. We're out of time. They take him away from me, love of my life.
ASTORIA!
"You need to Occlude me, Professor!" Astoria said, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "I don't care how! You need to get control of this again!"
"I'm trying!" Professor Sinistra exclaimed. "Can't you feel that I'm trying?"
"I feel it, but it's not doing anything!" she declared. "I brush it out of the way!"
Professor Sinistra cried out. Her eyes had been shut for twenty minutes. It had done nothing to help her against the spell. Astoria was tired of meddling in defenceless memories. This wasn't the practice Professor Sinistra needed. For as deeply she had delved into her mind, Astoria wasn't sure what the professor needed anymore. Astoria had to get to the bottom of the business with Rabastan, that intangible being who kept tearing through people she knew.
Crouch became a Death Eater of his own accord to get closer to a powerful figure like Voldemort, somebody who would actually acknowledge him, unlike his own father. Rabastan found the frailty in Jonah and ultimately set him up with the Longbottom crime to spite Professor Sinistra. The Professor could not prevent his escape like she had done with a handful of other Death Eaters. So, on the day of her husband's true and final death, Rabastan became free. And he would be back. That was what Professor Sinistra feared.
Rabastan was the brother of Rodolphus Lestrange. Rodolphus was the husband of Bellatrix. Bellatrix was the aunt of Draco. Pansy Parkinson learnt how to read somehow, and she consumed book after book about Rabastan. She instilled fear of the stranger even in Daphne, whose boggart imitated the Cruciatus Curse that Rabastan had used on Neville Longbottom's parents. Parkinson's undying obsession with Draco had finally found its eclipse in the face of the beast.
In the nightmare Parkinson had cursed Astoria with, Rabastan was the man who killed Astoria's friends and family. Yet Astoria could not fear him, even though she should. She could not fear him because Professor Sinistra needed somebody to be unafraid. She picked Astoria. She had really picked Astoria.
"So, Rabastan's become a strong Legilimens in the interim between your memories and now," Astoria said.
"Yes, he's very strong. He saw right through me when Jonah died. More than you did."
"What are his weaknesses?"
"I…"
"He has to have some weakness, Professor," Astoria pressed.
"He… I guess he's haphazard, and he cannot control his emotions. If he thinks something will please the Dark Lord, he's already doing it. There is no hesitation. That's what makes him noticeable. His random violence. He gets trancelike when he hurts others… He drops his defences," Professor Sinistra said. "He attacks. He does not defend. He's sadistic."
"A pawn, then," Astoria said. "He's the Dark Lord's pawn."
"Well, no," Professor Sinistra said, her eyes bright and watery. "No, he's one of the most high-ranking Death Eaters of all. The Lestrange trio… and my Jonah…"
"But what does it mean to rank?" Astoria asked, firstly because she was curious and secondly because she doubted its importance. "You-Know-Who came back to life because of Jonah's involvement in the Triwizard Tournament, and he didn't rush to help him back at the school. I assume You-Know-Who can Apparate, yes?"
"Of course he can Apparate. What kind of question is that, Astoria?" Sinistra asked, irked.
"A mocking one! Because You-Know-Who was too stupid to help Jonah at Hogwarts! Jonah thought You-Know-Who was going to come to the Hogwarts grounds, right? That's why he attacked Harry Potter and tried to hide Rhiannon. If You-Know-Who had bothered to notice the extent of his servant's work, he could have made short work of Harry Potter that very night! But he doesn't notice. That's all Jonah wanted from him, was to be noticed. And he didn't even notice Jonah because he's full of himself. So he won't notice Rabastan, either. You can take on Rabastan separately from You-Know-Who."
"You've gleaned more than I thought, but I still don't think you know how this works," Sinistra said weakly. "You-Know-Who protects those he trusts…"
"As long as it's convenient!" Astoria interjected. "I've heard plenty about the Death Eaters, Professor. I don't need to know exactly how it works. Bellatrix is the sister-in-law of both Rabastan and Lucius Malfoy. She hasn't vouched for Lucius Malfoy. She was leaving Azkaban with the Lestrange brothers not long before he was entering."
"Lucius ruined the Battle in the Department of Mysteries," Professor Sinistra argued. "The Lestranges have never botched a single order."
"Do you think Rabastan won't ruin some other Death Eater operative, Professor? With all that you said about him not being careful?" Astoria maintained. "So what if he's a Legilimens! I guess I'm a Legilimens now, and I'm still in school. If Rabastan makes one wrong move, he's out of favour. None of these people mean anything to You-Know-Who. If Jonah didn't, then Rabastan definitely doesn't. Defeating Rabastan doesn't necessarily mean facing You-Know-Who. That's what you're really afraid of, isn't it? You're not afraid of Rabastan. Rabastan's just some curse-happy sidekick."
"I only…" Professor Sinistra muttered, then let out a huge sigh. "I only don't want him to get curse-happy with Glenda or Severus or… my students."
"Then you'll need to get him first," Astoria said boldly. "Like you wanted. Even if it takes Dark magic."
Professor Sinistra hadn't expected this talk from her. Nobody would have. What the professor did not readily consider, though, was that she had helped shape Astoria into the woman she was becoming. Her recognition of Astoria's skills, from the moment she accepted Astoria into fourth-year Astronomy, to the pride she felt when Astoria used Atmospheric magic, had stirred in Astoria a sense of confidence that she never would have had otherwise. Astoria's confidence and trust in Professor Sinistra had waxed and waned before, all because of her connection with Barty Jonah Crouch. Even being force-fed Legilimency for the purpose of being "useful" to the professor had put doubts in her head just ten minutes ago. But tonight, Astoria understood everything as a Legilimens — the pure, raw feelings that Aurora Sinistra had for her broken husband. There wasn't an ounce of evil in her. Astoria wasn't only learning Legilimency to be Sinistra's training assistant; she was learning it because she was surrounded in her daily life by the relatives of Death Eaters. Professor Sinistra feared that Astoria was going down the same road she had. Astoria, though, was only going to look at Professor Sinistra's accomplishments. There was nothing in the woman's tragic memories that could detract from how strong and admirable she was. So Astoria, doing the thing she did the very best, reached out her arms to Professor Sinistra and hugged her until all those worries in her head went quiet. Astoria did not want to give up on Professor Sinistra's goal of restoring her Occlumency after what she had seen.
"Professor, if I use Legilimency on you, I obtain your memories myself. So, what I don't understand is that if I cannot use Occlumency well, there is still nothing protecting your memories," she mentioned. "Anybody could get your memories out of me even if your own Occlumency improves."
"The truth is, secrecy is not what I'm aiming for, Astoria. Rabastan has already attacked me with Legilimency. I'm not so much concerned with the information itself as I am with the effect that information has on me whilst it is being pulled out. When I'm under Legilimency, it's like reliving everything again. That is what makes me vulnerable. In a hypothetical situation, if you were attacked with Legilimency, and information about me was revealed, it would not be any different than it is now. I don't have a wealth of useful information for Rabastan, even if it is very personal. It's the torture he enjoys."
Astoria had talked big about defeating Rabastan Lestrange, but the reality was that, if given the chance, Rabastan would go straight for Professor Sinistra's memories of the dementor that took her husband. And that would be enough to distract and defeat her if she could not Occlude it. The problem was that whatever was learnt through Legilimency became a memory to the Legilimens as well, and Astoria frankly did not want to see visions of the Dementor's Kiss.
Although it was not required — none of this was — Astoria met Professor Sinistra the following afternoon to try again. Astoria felt stupid trying to use her own scant advice regarding Occlumency to help the professor, but she knew that it was much harder to Occlude things that one had not coped with. That is why she wanted to talk first, even though Professor Sinistra wanted to start with the spell immediately. The lack of conversation was counterintuitive. Having Legilimency cast on oneself might help build Occlumency, but it was a passive process and would not help the trauma. Conversation, though, was active and two-sided, so Astoria attempted it.
"Professor, I want you to tell me about Jonah's death first."
The man had half a dozen names. Astoria thought it best to use the one that resonated most with Professor Sinistra.
"Which death?" the professor grunted.
"Most people don't have to specify, so first of all, I think that's very sad," Astoria noted.
"…I know. Well, to me, it feels like he died three times," Professor Sinistra said, but she was very ashamed of talking to a student.
This was why the professor preferred Legilimency. She could say it was a "lesson" for both of them. This — not so much. Astoria didn't pry further. She knew she had a myriad of idiot thoughts that the professor could see.
"You know all this," said the greater witch distantly.
"No, I know of it. I thought it would be better to hear it from you before…"
"Before you pry it out of my cold, dead hands?" Professor Sinistra managed a grin.
"…Yeah."
"Well… the first time… The thing is, when you're barely in your twenties and your husband dies, everyone tells you to get back out there. But, erm, I don't know how to put it. If there are two Legilimens and one of them dies, you don't find someone else like that. Nobody understood that. They looked at it like we were only married for a couple of years. We'd been together for nearly seven, though. Legilimency kept us from fights. It kept us from misunderstandings. We were always connected. Well, 'he was a Death Eater,' they'd say. He wasn't a Death Eater to my knowledge. I didn't fall in love with a Death Eater, not at all. I fell in love with Jonah. Nobody understood this because they didn't have that difficulty. Well, he got quite famous, my husband, but the trial was ultimately a joke. The Lestranges didn't get what they really deserved, and my husband got what he didn't deserve. His father threw him in prison even though he knew Jonah belonged in the other kind of place. That was my experience that time. I, obviously, was left out of the little fake-your-death plan that Mama Crouch came up with."
"That plan must have ultimately led to the things I saw with Moody happening."
"Jonah thought it was very amusing, talking to me as Moody," Professor Sinistra said in a small voice. "His father had kept him under the Imperius Curse for twelve years. As if his home life and Azkaban hadn't harmed him, that destroyed what was left of his psyche. When he wrestled himself out of it, his mind was worse than he was when the whole ordeal started. When they caught him, and… and we met…"
Professor Sinistra placed a hand over her eyes and heaved a deep breath.
"He was so thrilled to see me, but the Veritaserum had thrown him into a stupor, and it was all about Voldemort. The only way I could reconnect with him was through Legilimency, but it physically hurt to be in his head. I kept thinking how happy I would have been to see him otherwise. My dead husband back with me, but instead he brought back Voldemort from the dead. His precious master. That was Jonah's first priority. Voldemort, not me. I guess I was supposed to come later. What a joke."
"He should have come straight to you after leaving his father," Astoria said, contemplating how much different her own life would be if not for Voldemort's resurrection.
"That is exactly what I told him. But he was so far gone. He said that he had had me in mind the whole time. Can you imagine? Having that guilt placed on you like that? 'Oh, I brought back the Dark Lord for you, love! Never mind anybody else's safety — this is going to be great for us!' Like it was going to improve our lives. We were never exactly well-off. Our circumstances had been difficult. My parents died young of Splinching injuries, and his were absent from our lives. But we were happy. We were happy to have each other. Almost every moment with him not only made me happy, but it made me happy to be alive. To exist. To know love. Nobody understands what it's like when you're both Legilimens. There is no closer marriage. It's a spiritual state. And Cornelius Fudge took my husband's soul not two hours after our reuniting. I will never forgive him. He knew what that dementor would do."
"Kiss escaped prisoners."
"See, even you know that," Sinistra said a bit carelessly.
Even I know that.
"I made a point," the professor continued, "to stay with my husband's body and that dementor that held his soul. I think I was trying to prove something at first. Then I realised I could not let go. I had been robbed of so much time with Jonah. I thought I'd lose my mind going to that prison, but I had to make sure that, er, he got out okay…"
"You took up studying dementors," Astoria said, thinking of Professor Sinistra's book that she still did not have the guts to read. She should have read it first, now that there was the risk of seeing the real memory.
"I tried to get him out of the dementor, yes. It's so rare than anyone visits Azkaban that the few wizards in charge there don't know how to do their job. You can take your wand right in. It's crazy. That was how my husband escaped in the first place. So I tried everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything. I grabbed that dementor right by its slimy little claws and… oh, I'm sorry, Astoria."
"I'm fine."
I'm old enough.
"Nothing I did worked. All I could do was keep Jonah fed and clean. He was a vegetable. I wouldn't let any guards near him. Sometimes he made noise, but I eventually accepted that he was gone. You would have thought I would have done that sooner, considering my Legilimency. He was brain-dead. Oh, but his soul… I could feel it in the belly of that thing. The day of the breakout was actually the happiest day I'd had in some time. Jonah's body started to shut down in earnest. I had studied dementors furiously, and sure enough… When a dementor's done with you, it sort of cranks open its jaw and… oh, Astoria, you…"
"No, I am fine, Professor. Really. You can talk."
"Well, all this hot air comes out, like a belch, which is very bizarre because dementors make everything so cold. But all of this hot air comes out at first, and it stings your eyes, and then you see… sort of ghostly wisps…"
"The soul," Astoria uttered.
"The soul comes out!" Professor Sinistra said musically. "It's especially dangerous to get close at this point, because that means that the dementor no longer has any food. It's digested all of the life energy and happiness that the soul has to offer, but then it sets it free. To pass on for good! Oh, Astoria, Jonah's soul was so light! Not like a ghost, but like a little blessed cloud! And I knew he was finally free, and I ran my hands all through and said goodbye. And I know he knew it was me. I know he knew I was there. And he'll always be with me."
Astoria felt a small smile on her face because Professor Sinistra had drawn it out with the light and love in her eyes. It was as happy an end to the nightmare as there possibly could be. Yet Astoria already knew that the peaceful goodbye had not lasted for Professor Sinistra. News of the Azkaban breakout had been all over. The professor had had the horror of watching Rabastan, a contributor to her misery, fly free along with the others involved in the Longbottom torture.
Where were they now, Astoria wondered. Their connection to the Malfoy family crossed her mind periodically. It concerned her, but she could not do anything about it. This, right here, was all Astoria could do.
"Thank you for sharing that with me, Professor. Even if it was the normal way."
"You think having talked about it will help my Occlumency," Professor Sinistra answered unconfidently. "My Occlumency did not benefit from writing an entire book on Jonah."
"You wrote the book alone, Professor," Astoria said.
"Ah. Well, dear, if you're still willing, let's get to it, shall we?"
I'm grown enough. I can do this.
"Yes, Ma'am. Legilimens."
Astoria was not going to need to read Thirty Things to Expect from the Dementor's Kiss. She saw it through Sinistra's eyes. Six times, to be exact. Across multiple extra "lessons" that week. To say that witnessing that memory did not change her would have been a comfortable lie.
The magnificent thing, though, was that the developing strength of Astoria's Legilimency allowed Professor Sinistra to not only share the moment with a confidant in the exact way she had experienced it, it also allowed her to re-evaluate a part of her life that was no longer a threat.
"There is something I can't come to terms with, though," the professor admitted. "Jonah treated Neville Longbottom really well that year because he felt guilty about what happened to his parents. And yet he wanted to use Neville against Harry Potter! Neville came and talked to me about it before signing up for my N.E.W.T. class. He said he didn't want to make me feel awkward by being in my class. He said he'd never thought he'd go anywhere in D.A.D.A. until getting a vote of confidence from the wizard who grassed up his parents. Can you imagine? He pitied Neville, and then tried to use him! He venerated Rhiannon, and then brought back the wizard responsible for killing Muggle-borns! I can't reconcile it."
Astoria thought for a moment, and then said, "Professor, I don't think he reconciled it, either. I don't think he reconciled his admiration of any one individual with what they stood for. Not You-Know-Who, not Rhiannon, not Neville, and definitely not you."
Professor Sinistra blinked and rubbed her face in her hands. She sighed.
"Jonah is free of his pain."
Astoria nodded, thinking of other people who had led happier lives than him and remained in the bowels of dementors for decades.
"That's true, Professor. He's genuinely free."
Professor Sinistra smiled sadly. Over time, she began to recover the faculty of her Occlumency. Astoria felt useful, but Professor Sinistra told her that there was much more to life than simply being useful to others. Having ignored the Wednesday-only protocol and working exhaustively, Professor Sinistra and Astoria both reached their goals and finally planned to resume their normal lessons.
"What you did here, with full knowledge of what you would see, has made you a much more powerful witch than before," Professor Sinistra said, tightening the screws on the huge astrolabe in the Astronomy classroom. "There are plenty of assumptions about our House, Astoria. But I've always thought this of Slytherin girls specifically: if the assumptions are true, it's not always a bad thing."
Astoria now held the third volume of Legilimency in Practice tenderly to her chest.