Book 4: Astoria Greengrass and the Curse of Quennell Park
Song rec: "Girl in the War" by Josh Ritter

Theodore lived in a house on Pendennis Point that only magic could have built and that only magic could find. The Nott residence was a stone-faced cottage soaked in saltwater spray and Muggle-Repelling Charms. Beyond the copse above the Nott residence was the castle, further away than was the crashing blue water below. Each of the cottage's round windows had a flower planter beneath it, filled with either ornamental Flitterbloom or deadly Devil's Snare. The broomshed at the side of the house was full of mouldy dictionaries, and the front door looked to have been routinely kicked. It was precisely a curious enough place to be Theodore's.

"This is the place!" said Nott unnecessarily.

Astoria had already set off a buzzing Intruder Charm, but she knocked on the door anyway. When it cracked open, a familiar wand that was whittled with compulsive scratches and bite marks on the handle just missed her face. Astoria surrendered and let Theodore speak first.

"Holy—! What in Merlin's name happened last night‽" Theodore exclaimed.

"Theodore! I'm back! Sorry it took so long! Theodore?" Nott said, elbowing Astoria to try to peer into the house.

"You stay back, both of you!" Theodore said, wagging his scratched wand. "I need to ask security questions!"

Astoria stomped her foot and whispered through the crack in the door.

"Theodore, no offense, but I don't think You-Know-Who's people would bother to disguise themselves for you, seeing as you know them personally. Plus, your father's Obliviated himself, so he might not be able to answer you. But go on; do what makes you happy, then."

Theodore swung open the door, revealing how badly he needed a shower and a Cheering Charm. He decided to skip the questions but kept them on the doorstep nonetheless.

"Dad, what happened?" he asked, nearly crying with relief.

"I suppose it started with the ball I went to at the Springhouses'," Nott Sr said before Astoria could explain. "There was a dreadful explosion in the manor — four killed — but I somehow made it out. I must've taken a blow to the head since I don't remember very much, but if it hadn't been for my ability to counter Dark magic, who knows what could've happened."

At this, Nott displayed the searing Dark Mark to his son, who stared at him open-mouthed.

"Ah, looks like I've forgotten my manners as well. Theodore, this is Grace, my fairy godmother. She's been helping me remember magic spells, and if it weren't for her, I wouldn't be here right now. I was worried about you and didn't have any way of letting you know I was fine. I can't remember how to Apparate, and the Dead Meaters have taken over transport."

"Fairy godmother…? Dad, no…" Theodore uttered.

His eyes darted between them, and a tear stained his cheek.

"Yes, yes, I know," Nott tried futilely to comfort his son. "It turns out I am the Marked One after all, and the Dead Meaters are after me. But everything will be all right now. Speaking of which, what magical appearance does Grace take in front of you? She looks rather short and silly to me, about your age."

Theodore brushed his fringe out of his face, gulped sorely, and wrapped his arms firmly round his confused father. He had not lost him in the way he had thought, but this was another kind of pain. Astoria tried to feel happy that they were reunited, but the knot in her chest wanted only to tell Theodore that his dad could have killed hers. At last, Theodore ushered them into the house.

Astoria's tired eyes were biased toward the couch, but there was much more to admire about the place. The living room had the old hearth-and-cauldron layout, coveted by many homeowners whose modern versions did not evoke the same charm. Two arches on either side of the hearth revealed small, curved hallways, each decorated with antique potions supplies. The Notts' modern-use kitchen, necessarily, was added on to the back of the house, where the hardwood floor gave way into sanded stone from the rocky cliff and the window displayed the sea. Up above was an open bedroom loft, clearly Theodore's, accessed by a straight ladder in the corner that came up between the floors. Nott was pacing round the house, telling his son a more detailed (and more ludicrous) version of the adventure.

"Are you off the Floo yet, Theodore?" Astoria cut in when she heard movement in the hearth.

"Er, I've been off the Floo," Theodore answered, his shock limiting his conversation.

"We have bats in the chimney," Nott Sr explained. "I do remember the bats."

Nott Sr went into the kitchen to supplement his meagre breakfast with honey porridge, which he did not offer to Astoria. Maybe he thought she didn't need the same amount of food humans did. She wondered how long her lie would hold up the less fairy-godmotherlike she behaved. Astoria felt guilty for bringing Nott straight to the door without giving Theodore a thorough explanation of his condition first. Being inside homey walls with someone she knew was everything in the world compared to her long night, and all she could do was stare at the ceiling. Calming himself, Theodore sent the Muffliato spell to his father in the kitchen so they could talk openly. Astoria was boiling over with things she had to say, and by the time she told Theodore everything she could, she was shouting in distress. He asked uncomfortably few questions about the whole ordeal, rubbed his hands together, and looked at the floor. She realised she had not yet asked him what he had gone through. His side of the story only added to the misery.

Having been traded between Death Eaters' wives since his father had been arrested, Theodore was finally able to return home upon turning seventeen. Shortly after, Voldemort decided it was time to free his remaining people in Azkaban, including Nott Sr and Lucius Malfoy, an event which was covered up in the media. As far as the war went, things had been looking up for Theodore until early July. It turned out that the entire population of Death Eaters, sans those already stripped of rank, had failed the most important mission of all: killing Harry Potter. This had occurred the night before the assault on Quennell Park, and indeed the failure had served as the impetus for Ivory Stretton's plan to attack the Greengrasses. Theodore had no idea that his father was going to Quennell Park until after the fact. With that mission, Nott Sr was trying to save his own life after failing to take Harry Potter's for a second time.

"I'm so sorry it's come to this, Astoria. I didn't even know why Dad was going out," Theodore said with his face in his hands. "When I finally heard it was Quennell Park they were after, all I could think about was Dad killing you and your family… or your family killing Dad… and when I saw you both at the door, I couldn't believe it. I don't know how to thank you, really. I'm so, so, so sorry. I can't thank you enough, Astoria."

"I don't know if you should thank me," Astoria said plainly. "I needed him for magic, and I probably made him more confused than he would have been alone."

"It doesn't matter. He's home, and he's happy for once." Theodore said.

Nott Sr was happy, but he was running his left arm under the tap. Theodore looked at him sadly.

"I didn't know what to do about his arm burning. You-Know-Who doesn't always know his location with that thing, right?" Astoria asked.

"No, thankfully. But, er, Dad can't stay here too long. When the Dark Mark reacts, the Dark Lord knows he's alive. And they'll come looking for him here once they start caring to…" Theodore sighed. "How did he Obliviate himself so badly?"

Astoria felt a twinge from having experienced first-hand the feeling of Nott's memories disappearing.

"Well, he knew he would have been killed if he returned to You-Know-Who after going against orders. I had used Legilimency on him. He didn't want to die," Astoria made clear, "but I think he felt that if You-Know-Who was going to find him anyway, he didn't want him to have the satisfaction of killing someone in their right mind. I think… I think your dad wanted You-Know-Who to feel irrelevant. It was like they shared a personal history he wanted to erase as a final insult."

Theodore's mouth curved a bit, but his eyes were wet, and his gaze was low.

"I don't know where to hide him or what to do. I need some time to think."

"Well, I don't mean to overstay my welcome, but my head's been killing me, and I could really use a rest. Maybe you could think, and I could sleep?"

Theodore nodded. He lifted the Muffliato spell from his father and started telling him about his good scores on his final exams. He must not have had the chance to talk about school when Nott had been a Death Eater instead of a dad. Nott no longer understood the Hogwarts system, but he congratulated Theodore anyway. Astoria fell asleep to their voices. She dreamt half a memory of the Slytherin common room, with lights twinkling across Draco's and Rhiannon's faces as they fought to write "Astoria is a big flirt" or "Astoria is already up past her bedtime."

She awoke hours later to the glare of afternoon sun coming through the dirty windowpane. Theodore was right across from her with two books on his lap, quietly turning pages and comparing them. His closeness startled her, but he didn't act like it was a weird place to sit, so it didn't become one.

"Everything I know about the Dark Mark tells me it's a bad sort of Protean Charm. That much I've already decided," he said in response to her rustling.

Having napped in her sweaty clothes made Astoria feel twice as dirty, but she got to business regardless.

"Since you're pressed for time, do you need to do anything about the Dark Mark? All the Dark Lord knows is that he's alive, not where he is. You could hide your dad somewhere, and set him up with protective spells," she suggested.

"Magic attracts, though," Theodore said. "I have reason to believe that the Muggle-borns who have been killed whilst 'in hiding' gave themselves away with traces of magic here and there."

"You're not considering hiding him amongst Muggles, are you? The Death Eaters are attacking Muggles, too," Astoria said.

"It's the probability, though. If I put Dad somewhere magical, it's nearly certain he'll be found and killed. If I put him with Muggles — a low-profile bunch, that is — his chances of survival are much better," reasoned Theodore.

Astoria wished that Theodore didn't have to consider the probability of his father's survival so point-blank. One day, she and Theodore might be considered part of an unlucky cohort, the "Boy-Who-Lived generation."

"How on earth are you going to blend him in with Muggles? They all looked at us like we were trolls at the slightest hint that we were different," she noted.

Theodore sighed and said, "The only way I can think of would be a Memory Modifying Charm strong enough to overshadow his own magic. And don't worry, I'm much better than Dad in the memory spells department. But anything he lost from his own spell would still be lost."

After a little thought, he added, "Of course, there's no reason why I couldn't put a Memory Modifying Charm on him with real events once it's all over. It won't be the same as his original memories, though."

"Let's not worry about that right now," Astoria responded coolly. "What if they come to interrogate you about his location?"

"Oh, that ought to be interesting. Draco's the one who's been put on torture duty."

Theodore had said plenty of inconsiderate things in the two years Astoria had known him, but this crowned them all. The last time Astoria had seen Draco had been a prolonged but otherwise unsuspicious goodnight in the common room the night the headmaster was murdered. Her feelings about their relationship had been fly-swatted and scraped off the wall so many times that she could not find the right angle to approach the thought of him. What if Lucius Malfoy had come with Stretton, and what if Astoria had had to kill him like she did those two Death Eaters? Those killings still scratched at her ankles from below.

What if Draco himself had been present? The person she had fallen in love with back when things made sense. This is the very first time Theodore had cared to mention him.

"They're making Draco torture people for information?" she shrilled.

"Er, not really information? I can't say for sure. I think You-Know-Who makes him Cruciatus anyone who doesn't follow orders. I dunno. Draco did that thing he does where he mentions something that upsets him in passing and then won't talk more about it."

"Why are you being so casual about this?"

"I'm not. I just don't have the answer to your question because he won't tell me."

"I can't believe this, Theodore! We ran out to the grounds that night trying to make sure he was alive, and this is how you talk about Draco? When did you speak with him?"

Theodore lost his patience.

"Oh, you know! Just a normal old chat at five A.M. when he Apparated straight into my house and started screaming his head off at me about my dad being at Quennell Park! I knew sweet fuck-all about it before! We nearly used our wands — it's always the same with him."

"How did Draco know about Stretton's plan against my family?" Astoria asked in horror.

"Because the Lestranges live there with him! Those creeps know everything! Rabastan tattled on Stretton to the Dark Lord, but I guess he must have waited until the plan was already well underway. He does stuff like that, you know. I had to live with those people for two and a half months."

Astoria couldn't muster a response. She walked down the hall to the shower, but the dirt was lodged behind her eyes. Nott was out there asking Theodore why he had been shouting at the fairy godmother. Theodore's answer wouldn't matter; he was going to have to play with the old man's brain anyway before sending him to safety. Astoria thought of ways to convince Theodore to take her to Renshaw's house after he put Nott in hiding. Renshaw and his family needed a proper burial, not a Muggle refrigerator.

When Astoria came out of the shower, she found Theodore in the bedroom. He was packing his father's necessities into a suitcase much the same way Astoria had.

"If you're really dropping him off with Muggles, you can't have an Extension Charm on the luggage, Theodore," she reminded him gently.

"Gah! But we only have one suitcase."

He wasn't thinking because he was so nervous. Astoria had only studied the theory of the Doubling Charm in N.E.W.T. Astronomy due to the constellation Gemini, but Theodore should have learnt how to cast it in N.E.W.T. Charms. She told him to use it on the suitcase, and he did. Two suitcases would work for Nott. If any more of his items were missing than that, it would look like his escape had been planned.

"What do you have in mind for your dad?" she asked.

"Since the Dark Lord has been calling him since early this morning, I don't have much time to conjure a good false memory. There's no telling when they'll come looking here. I hate to do this, but I think I'm going to have to put him in a nursing home. If he seems like his memory is off, it would fill some of the loose ends in the Memory Modifying Charms. I guess it's a necessary evil. Unless you have a better idea."

Astoria was surprised that someone as smart as Theodore would consider anything she might have brainstormed. With all that Nott had done, Astoria had no personal investment in his fate, but she was concerned about Theodore. Not to mention she needed a few favours from him as well.

"I might have a way to, erm, get rid of the Dark Mark," she announced.

"…What are you on about, Astoria? No, you bloody don't."

"Well, it's not like I've tried it before, but I saw Professor Sinistra take the Dark Mark out of the sky at Hogwarts," Astoria said. "She did it wandlessly. I remember the incantation and everything. I, er, don't know if it works on skin."

Theodore looked at her blankly and stopped packing the suitcase.

"But it's Dark magic, Astoria."

"I'm just telling you what I saw her do. I thought it might help. Even if we drop him off with Muggles, none of their tattoos move, and he could accidentally touch it with magic in his hands. He's kept it hidden all these years, but there's no telling what will happen once we leave him on his own. You-Know-Who will know he's alive as long as that thing's on him."

Theodore sat on the bed and wrung his hands.

"Well, incidentally, I know that the incantation to make the Protean Dark Mark is the same incantation to make the aerial Dark Mark. The aerial countercurse could be the same as the one on skin, but there's no good way to test it," he said.

"I'm not trying to push you to do something risky, but if we can get the Dark Mark off your dad, they'll think he's dead. The Death Eaters won't be down your throat about what happened to him. Sending him to the Muggles without getting that thing off of him could be the difference between life and death."

"See, I know you're right, but this is such a powerful spell to work with blindly. I guess I could tell Dad to give me a Dark Mark so I can practise getting it off."

"Why would you do that? What if it backfires and hurts you?"

"You're missing the point. It could hurt me, but it won't literally backfire. Plus, if Dad is able to cast it on me, I won't have any link to You-Know-Who. If we cast things on his Mark carelessly, the Dark Lord might feel it and kill all of us. Like you said, it could be worth it to have them think Dad died."

Before Astoria could think of a solid argument, Theodore was off to get his dad from the kitchen. She tailed him frantically, saying:-

"Well, at least put it somewhere easy to hide!"

"I was thinking under the arm. Nobody's going to — oh bludgers, I reek!" Theodore inhaled. "Let's do the ankle, then."

Theodore told Nott that he had a pain in his ankle, and since Nott would cast whatever people told him to, the Morsmordre spell was singeing into Theodore within minutes. Unlike the Death Eaters' Dark Mark, it ended up being a plain black circle when cast by someone who had no flashy design preference.

"What did I do‽ Theodore, I'm sorry! Oh no, what did I do‽ Grace, do something!"

"It's all right, remember? It means he can counter Dark magic. He must have inherited the ability from you. Erm, that is, without as much strength. That's why his Mark is simple," Astoria humoured Nott Sr.

It took some effort for Theodore to get out of Nott's worried clutch, but he and Astoria went back to the room and locked the door.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"It's not something I'd recommend, but I think the ones from You-Know-Who hurt far worse based on what I've seen. So, tell me what to do."

"Okay. So, the incantation is 'Morkredd.' And Professor Sinistra took her left hand… wait, no…" Astoria thought aloud.

"Are you about to tell me you don't remember the bloody spell?"

"No, no! I just remembered she's left-handed. She was using her wand hand, that's all. I didn't want to tell you the wrong thing."

"I'm also left-handed, so it doesn't matter. All this time and you didn't know that about me?"

"Theodore, I don't pay attention to everyone's hands, okay? Listen, she held her left hand up towards the Dark Mark. Maybe in your case it would be down towards it? Okay… And she sort of pulled her arm back towards her and twisted her hand into a fist. It looked like this when she did it."

"Okay."

"So maybe you could do the same thing but point it at your ankle. I'm sorry I don't know what the wand equivalent would be, so you'll have to try really hard. She said the incantation the same time she made the movement."

"Well, here we go… Morkredd. OH-MY-GOD-IT-BURNS!"

"Theodore, it's working! Sort of! It's getting really light!"

"THIS-IS-THE-WORST-OH-MY-GOD!"

"But it's really working! This is wonderful!"

Theodore went into the foetal position on the bed, holding his ankle tightly and whinging in pain. When he finally let go, Astoria saw his handprints against his skin and a very faint scar in place of the mark.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked once Theodore settled.

"I think Dad's going to cry, but yeah. Rips it right out. D-Does the job."

"I'm sorry about the scar."

"It's only my ankle. Too bad it's so small. It doesn't make me look tougher."

Theodore went in to check if his father had sensed anything coming from the ankle Dark Mark he had created. Nott Sr had felt no sensation whatsoever, so Theodore went right to business. He put his father to sleep, and then proceeded with the countercurse with clenched teeth. Nott tensed up pitifully, but it was over quickly enough. Unlike Theodore's gradual fading, though, the snake and skull bled black out of Nott's arm and onto the floor. Nott himself began to bleed immediately after, so Theodore hurriedly closed the wounds with the help of old D.A.D.A. lessons. He left his father asleep and looked at Astoria, who had been biting her nails.

"I guess now is as good a time as any."

"The Memory Modifying Charm?"

"Mm. Otherwise he'll ask me all about being 'the Marked One' when he wakes up to see the Dark Mark gone. He'll see me draw my wand on him, too. I don't want him to see me do that, even if he forgets right after."

"Well, good luck," Astoria said.

Theodore pointed his wand right in the middle of the top of his father's head. He shut his eyes, and with great concentration, said, "Confabulatio totalis." A long breath escaped him, and he roused his father from sleep. Nott's eyes moved all over the room.

"Well, Theodore, it's been quite a nice visit. I ought to be going… oh my, who's this?"

"That's my friend Grace, Dad."

"Did… did… oh… did she use the shower? Are you being quite careful, Theodore?"

"Dad, it's not like that."

"Oh?" Nott said, and got up from his seat. "Where is my luggage?"

"Right here, Dad. Are you ready to, er… teleport?"

"Always makes me motion sick. If we must," Nott grumbled. "You know, Theodore, if you don't clean yourself up, girls aren't going to keep coming here. Maybe she picked the shower for a reason."

"Dad! Stop! She's not my girlfriend. Pay attention already."

"Well, I don't care what she is. No partner is going to put up with that long, dirty hair you sport and that body odour. She's just too shy to say it, aren't you, Grace?"

"Er…"

"Dad."

"All right, all right!"

They Disapparated, but not until after they were gone did Astoria consider what she would do if Death Eaters came to the doorstep demanding to know where the Notts were. It had been smart of Theodore not to tell her or let her tag along, since her Occlumency was mediocre. Then again, if the Death Eaters couldn't get an answer out of her, they'd kill her. She hoped Theodore would be back soon so she didn't have to use more Unforgivable Curses. The cold and calculating actions she had been forced to take on her journey were starting to set in. She thought about the two she had killed: Caleb Price, a Snatcher who was trying to kill Rhiannon, and Xavier Lofthouse, the Death Eater who had killed Uncle Faunus and viciously tried to use Adamina to kill the rest. Uncle Faunus's death didn't feel like it was avenged with Lofthouse's death in the explosion. Even if Astoria had killed Lofthouse in a duel, she wouldn't feel like an avenger for her family. Revenge was too romantic a concept. All she did was get rid of people who were bound to kill more people. But what did it mean for her in the long run? Should she be more disturbed by her actions than she was?

Theodore Apparated back into the house about twenty minutes later with two cans of Muggle drinks labelled "Virgin Cola."

"I couldn't pass it up," Theodore sniggered.

"How is this marketed?" Astoria wondered. "How do you open it?"

"Ummm… I guess punch a hole in the top with your wand? No, wait, pull the oval tab forward."

Theodore demonstrated, but the can hissed loudly at him and spilt a third of its bubbly contents.

"It's too fizzy because I Apparated here. Tergeo," Theodore cast, cleaning the floor.

"I want to make the worst joke right now about Virgin Cola," Astoria said behind her hand.

"Ooh, you're really bad!" Theodore laughed.

"It's Daphne's fault I am," Astoria recalled fondly.

"Sure it is. Cheers."

"Cheers."

Their drinks were all sugar, but not half bad. Neither of them wanted to discuss how long she could safely stay there, and Astoria could not bring up the topic of Renshaw no matter how much she tried. Theodore at long last got ready for a shower.

"What do you want me to say if You-Know-Who shows up?" she asked sarcastically.

"Tell him I'm in the shower. Even he wouldn't want to see me naked. What else are we supposed to say, right? That's where I am," he shrugged.

"Right."

They joked about it to cope with everything, but moments after Theodore came out of the shower, an ominous crack sounded outside the door. Theodore did not hesitate to hit Astoria with a cold Disillusionment Charm to blend her in with the couch. She noticed that her body still made a depression in the cushion and stood up beside one of the chairs, not making a sound as knocks sounded against the door. Theodore drew both his and his father's wands and peeked out the tiny window. Then he groaned and opened the door only a sliver, adjusting his bathrobe.

"What's my least favourite brand of parchment and why?"

"Really, Theodore? Beedle's Best because the texture's weird against your hand when you write. Let me in. I need to talk to you."

Astoria bumped three pictures on the wall, barely saving them from falling.

"Fine," Theodore said, and Draco Malfoy tramped into the little house.

He looked worn, sleepless, and miserable. He sported a bright slash across his cheek.

"Well, he sent the Lestrange brothers to check out Quennell Park. Rabastan said it smells like blood magic, but Rodolphus said there's nothing there! Nothing! Gone! Do you know anything else? Anything at all?" Draco interrogated.

"He sent you looking for my dad, did he?" Theodore answered coldly.

"Theodore, I'm sorry. I just do what I'm told. He said… he said you might know of what happened to him…" Draco trailed off.

"Of course I don't know, Draco!" Theodore screamed theatrically.

"Well, you'd better be prepared to present an 'I don't know' in front of him, all right?" Draco said with equal height of hand gesturing. "Do you have any other information since the last I saw you?"

"Oh, I get it. You're using this errand as an excuse to find out more about the Greengrasses."

"What's so wrong about that‽ That Snatcher only knew so much, and the Dark Lord already killed him! The Snatcher said the Squib family died, and Faunus Greengrass died, and some girl ran off into the woods! You know, the woods that aren't there any longer‽"

"Well, Draco, how's your Occlumency holding up against You-Know-Who?" Theodore asked.

"It's doing just damn fine!"

"What I mean is, can you use divertive Occlumency in addition to blocking? If the Dark Lord commands you to submit to Legilimency, can you really guide him through to the other side without him even noticing?"

"Yeah, I'd already be dead if I couldn't! I've had plenty of opportunity with Rabastan's constant assaults on everyone in the house," Draco declared.

"Well then, I do have some news," Theodore said.

Theodore lifted the charm from Astoria, and she stood there astonished, not a word on her tongue. Draco gasped at the sight of her, stepped forward, and stopped short. His quiet eyes spared her nothing but the emotion he felt. They both wrestled down the impact of seeing each other again. They were both alive and in the same room, and it was far more than they could have bargained for.

"Are you okay?" they asked at the same time.

They went silent at the same time, too. Their familiarity had been lost in barely two months. It was hard to meet Draco again when Astoria did not know herself anymore. There was no starting line to the marathon they had to speak.

"She hijacked a bus and kidnapped a bloke to get here, so don't go and say something stupid to her," Theodore cut in.

Astoria lost all her presentation and looked at the wall. Theodore was right; she was not the same person anymore. It wasn't so much the bus driver and Dillon Washbourne. It was the violence still reverberating in her wand, the knowledge of Quennell's curse in her blood, and the sea of disgusting minds she had swum through just to achieve temporary refuge.

"Ivory Stretton killed my cousin Renshaw," Astoria said.

Then she remembered that Draco already knew all the deaths. There was no point in telling him. There was no point.

"I heard about that," Draco said softly. "I don't know what to say. That's horrible."

He had so much shame on his face. She couldn't take it. She had done so much in so short a time. If she only knew how to Apparate as far as her father, she would grab Draco and Theodore and simply go. She would come back for Hestia and Flora, and Montel and Tracey, and Professor Sinistra. Voldemort wouldn't have anybody left once the old stuffy Death Eaters died out. It was an angry fantasy.

"Draco, look, I already know it isn't your fault," she said, hitting her arms at her side. "You don't have to look at me like that. In fact, please don't."

"I don't… there's too much going on, and now your family…"

Theodore stepped away from them, into the kitchen, where he started clanging cookware. And that was when Draco cracked like glass in front of her, sinking onto the couch and sobbing. Astoria had not seen him like this before. He always kept everything in, holding a shield even when he was at his worst. Or at least, whatever his "worst" meant before he became a Death Eater. Draco's Occlumency did not fail; rather, he poured it willingly into her hands before she even knew what to do about it. Her headache was heavy around his confusion, so she sat next to him and touched his arm.

"Draco, if you want to talk, then…"

"I can't — I can't talk. Just take what you want to know," he insisted.

"It's not that detailed unless I cast Legilimens, and I don't want to do that to you," she answered. "I just get stupid bits and pieces on the surface."

"There's enough magic in his house to hide you from the Ministry. Please, Astoria… there's too much to say."

"I wasn't talking about the Trace, Draco. I meant that you're giving me a lot to sift through here, and I don't want to upset you with the spell. It feels really intense, and—"

"Stop. I love you. You deserve to know what's going on," Draco said.

She latched onto his words without knowing what to do with them, and it stung when she realised they were true. Carefully, Draco reached across her and slid a cold hand into her robes. He found and placed her own wand in her hand and clasped her fingers around it. And he sat quite still, trying to get a hold of himself without the feint of Occlumency.

"The formal spell is very unpleasant when it isn't used mutually, Draco. It's like coming up from the dungeons in the morning," Astoria warned. "Everything is dim for so long, and then the sun hits you straight in the eyes."

"It-it's fine. I know I was selfish. I kept too much from you. And… and I won't feel right until you know everything," he stammered.

Astoria hushed him. She realised he did need it this way. He didn't have to try to put it in words.

"Legilimens."

In spite of her warnings, it was very different with him. Where others lost their concentration, flailed about in panic, and grimaced their way through Legilimency, Draco heaved a huge sigh of relief. His shoulders fell, his body relaxed, and he dropped his forehead right onto hers. Everything in his touch and his mind was strange and unprecedented. It went through her chest and to her spine with a pleasant eeriness. With her free hand, she supported Draco's tired face. Nothing else was quite like this.

Astoria was still dealing with the effects of her concussion, and thus even without his Occlumency, Draco was still difficult to navigate. Even though she doubled her efforts, his memories came to her softly in her own muddled mind. The things Draco wanted her to know were centre stage, playing out the past year as a tragedy. It took the least amount of effort to see his father's imprisonment, his aunt living at his house, his mission to kill Dumbledore, and his failure to do so. Draco's mother was there, convincing Snape to make the Unbreakable Vow for his sake, but what could Draco do to help her? Voldemort himself lived in their home, like a mould that kept returning.

The lights of Draco's thoughts shone brightly in the front, but there were still hidden players in the rafters. Professor Charity Burbage fell hard onto the stage, her bones crunching in the pressure of a large snake's throat. Rabastan Lestrange patrolled the audience overnight, pillaging the dreams of those who could not Occlude whilst sleeping. Prisoners cried beneath the stair trap, or at the wrong end of the Cruciatus Curses Draco had been forced to cast. The stage curtains were always being drawn too early for Draco to take it all in, but he and Astoria finally watched it together unabridged.

By a miracle, Ivory Stretton had not approached Draco's father since he had been stripped wandless by the Dark Lord. But would Lucius have gone to Quennell Park if asked? Draco shook as Astoria found this question in his mind and grabbed the hem of her robes. The attack on your family was a choice, not an order… Would Father have gone? Would he have gone by choice?

Astoria's eyes burned to take in the spotlight. She had wondered the same thing about Lucius. She ran her thumb over the cut on Draco's face. It screamed of Voldemort, and Draco's mind screamed for more of her touch. It was uncomfortable to learn that each of the moments they had shared before had been under such a weight. He had come to love her even though he had only started talking to the Greengrasses because his parents told him to. His parents were hideous to him for what they had done as Voldemort's servants, but he loved them. He loved them and hated them and loved them…

Draco wondered about Astoria's love for him into her eyes, and the production derailed. Hecklers threw in ugly thoughts neither of them wanted to hear. He clawed all over his mind trying to figure out why the shower was still steamy and both Astoria and Theodore had wet hair. He wanted to know why she hadn't responded when he told her he loved her. Were they over? Was it the circumstance, or her ultimate lack of feeling for him? Didn't the same circumstances apply to Theodore? What had she seen in Theodore's character? What had she seen under his bathrobe? Draco didn't blame her; he felt dirtier as a Death Eater than any of the people he had once considered Mud. But his thoughts continued pelting him, and he pondered if Astoria would be safer as a supporter of the Dark Lord.

Her Legilimency was the polar opposite of Rabastan's — not because it was fundamentally less invasive, but because Draco wanted to belong to her, to be a part of her. He could stay like this forever, pouring out the troubles she didn't need to bear. Astoria was left wishing that she could share her experiences the same way. If Draco were also a Legilimens, it would put them higher than this war.

"I hate to interrupt the, er… whatever thing you're doing there, but I need to know how much spaghetti I should make," Theodore said, knocking Astoria and Draco out of the moment.

Draco was still recovering; his wet face had fallen on her shoulder, and his hands moved to grip her waist. It was nice to be close, to really be held after all that happened. Astoria had always been the sentimental sort, and being in Draco's presence brought on some dreamy thoughts. But it was also halting and confusing. It unsettled her how many different ideas Draco had about maintaining their relationship now that she could not leave the country. She cared about him so deeply, but being in his mind made her realise they were not on the same page. She couldn't become a supporter of Voldemort.

"Er, we'd both like spaghetti, thank you," she replied to Theodore with a shrug.

"Noble use of Legilimency there," said Theodore. "Draco, you could've told me you wanted spaghetti without her using that trick."

Draco didn't say anything and ruefully moved away from her. They all went into the kitchen to set up a quick meal. Outside, a flock of seagulls arrived, cawing loudly. Astoria watched them soar along the coast and land on the white, rocky sand below, preening and searching the ground. Their noise was disharmonious but evoked breezy, lazy days on the beach.

"Those things attack," Theodore stated. "They probably heard me talk about food."

The quickness of Theodore's food preparation didn't indicate the quality; he added enough herbs to make it delicious. It was her first hot meal since the house-elves had left Quennell Park. She needed to learn some cooking spells if she was going to make it through the war on something other than granola.

"This is very good, Theodore. Thank you for making it," she said.

"Not a problem. I've been meaning to tell you, if you know a house or building is held up by overage magic, it's safe to say you can use magic in it. But I wouldn't risk it outdoors, even if you are with an adult who's actively casting."

"I grew up with that rule," Astoria said, nodding.

"The Ministry's going to get you whether it's run by politicians or Death Eaters. Just making sure you knew," Theodore said. "By the way, the takeover's pretty soon, isn't it, Draco?"

"M-hm," he grunted resentfully.

"So where do you think you'll go next, Astoria? Do you have any more relatives here? I can Apparate you to them," Theodore offered.

Astoria twirled her spaghetti grimly.

"I have relatives in France."

"Er… oh. I can't Apparate internationally."

"Right. And I can't write to them if the rumours about the post being monitored are true," Astoria said.

"They are true," said Draco. "And even though there's no all-hours border guard yet, the ports most popular with wizards are being watched by Death Eaters."

"Great," said Astoria.

She paused, and looked back at Theodore.

"I don't want to ask this over a meal, but it seems I have to. Could you take me to my cousin's house if I tell you exactly where it is? I don't want the Muggles to get their bodies. They'll never be claimed. If you've never been round the area, I understand…"

"Well, you'll have to tell me exactly where to go," Theodore said. "But I don't know if You-Know-Who will send people other than Draco here. Draco, what do you think? Can I spare ten minutes to help her with her family?"

Draco clinked his fork on the plate.

"I don't think it's a good idea. He might be sending people there — I just don't know. It's a bad idea."

"That's not how the Dark Lord operates," Theodore argued. "Not with Muggles, anyway. He leaves them there as a joke for the police. Well Astoria… if we do this really quickly, will it bother you?"

"No. I completely understand it has to be quick. Thank you."

Theodore seemed to be under the impression that he owed her this for her protection of his father. She didn't want to look at it that way. She would have engaged in combat with Nott Sr if it had come to it.

"Why did you ask me what I thought if you were going to go anyway?" Draco grumbled at Theodore. "Astoria, I'm sorry to put it this way, but it's not like you can do anything for them. You could get killed right along with them."

Draco was right, but when the only things she could think about were the Muggle police or paramedics coming to drag the bodies away, she couldn't heed him. It was too complicated to explain, and she didn't have the ease of having her mind picked over like he just had.

"I killed Xavier Lofthouse, Draco. I can manage burying my cousin."

"You—" he gulped and touched her shoulder.

"Yes, well, I had to."

"Are you okay, though? What spell did you use? It didn't hurt you, did it?"

"I'm fine. I'm not trying to brag about what happened, but I know exactly how worried you are about me. You've always thought I'm some sort of, I don't know, little glass doll. I'm not. I've seen it all. And I've seen the same things you have, too, through Legilimency. So we're even," Astoria said.

"'Even?' Why are you accusing me of worrying about how even we are? I'm just trying to make sure you don't get killed! I can only do so much, so, you know, if I have to lose you, I don't want it to be a loss of your life!" Draco exclaimed.

"What about you, then? You think it's nice for me to know that You-Know-Who is at your breakfast table? You think I've slept soundly since you left Hogwarts? I can rip that Dark Mark right off you, Draco, and then you won't be the Dark Lord's anymore! You'll be mine! But you're so worried that I've gone and sexed up Theodore in the shower to understand what you mean to me!"

"I didn't—"

"We actually had Virgin Cola," Theodore added unconstructively.

Draco could have recited the entirety of the Hogwarts anthem he had never sung sooner than he might have guessed that Virgin Cola was a fizzy drink. Astoria quickly pointed out the empty cans in the bin and whisked Draco back to the living room.

"Neither of you two nobs are my type, you know!" Theodore called after them.

Draco sat back on the couch and rubbed his forehead.

"I'm really a mess, aren't I? I didn't even bother to talk to you. Legilimency doesn't count as real talking, does it? I was just so relieved that you were alive. I wanted you to know everything at once so you wouldn't hate me as much."

Astoria couldn't fight a bittersweet smile over his need for reassurance.

"Come now, Draco. I don't hate you. I was worried sick."

"Well, I never asked you what happened on your end. Maybe we could talk about it? I've never used Legilimency… Erm. If it's too hard to talk about, I understand."

"I'd rather talk anyway since I took a hit to the head earlier. By the way, since I know you're into this stuff, Legilimency gets dreadfully difficult to control. You glean all sorts of things you don't want to. I wouldn't recommend learning it. You have enough stress as it is."

Draco clicked his tongue, "So, erm… it seems like your family Disapparated to safety and… left you accidentally?"

"There were a few bad Splinches, but all signs point to them managing to get out. They thought I died in the explosion," Astoria said. "Quennell told me they got away."

"Explosion?"

"Lofthouse tried to detonate a bomb inside of Adamina's body. I had to use a bad hex, but I got it out of her, and Lofthouse's spell returned to him."

It was so much better to tell Draco. When she had told Theodore, he crossed his arms and wore the most gobsmacked look. Draco merely gave her his attention and support, making even the hardest topics spill easily.

"Daphne's the one I'm most worried about. She lost an arm, and I think she might have divined the Death Eaters' attack. The burden of that has to be devastating her," Astoria said.

"Divined it? Daphne?"

"I was surprised, too, but that's how she alerted Father."

"If she Saw the attack, perhaps she'll also See that you survived."

"That would be nice, but I honestly don't want my family to risk coming back here. If they still think I'm dead, they'll stay put."

"I see what you mean."

"Rhiannon's lived with us the past year. She escaped along with my parents," Astoria stated.

"I was wondering. That's good," Draco said.

Everything that had embittered Astoria over the years now compelled her to stare at Draco the way she did. The relief he had at learning of Rhiannon's safety was as true as his love for Astoria. It swirled in and overtook her. It was neither Astoria's kindness nor Voldemort's evil that had changed Draco; he had learnt that even when he lost control of everything else, he could develop his own values independently. He was willing to separate from his parents' influence. The very few choices Draco had within his own grasp were that much more precious to him. He made them with what he felt in his heart. He made them to keep his parents safe, even knowing that their choices had demolished his own safety. There was no greater man in Astoria's eyes than one who had grown in character of his own accord.

"Don't feel like you have to tell me, Astoria. It's really fresh. I can't imagine how difficult it was for you to even make it here," Draco spoke up when she fell silent.

"No, I was just thinking…"

Of how much I love you, her heart pronounced.

"…of how much I missed you," her lips failed.

He stared at her.

She went on, "Even little things. Like how you drum your fingers when you're nervous. And the way you sit on couches. And how your right sleeves are always more stretched out than your left because you put your wand there in a pinch…"

"I didn't know I'd stretched that many shirts," Draco tutted, examining his sleeve.

Astoria leaned against him and told him everything that was safe for him to hear. She told him the things she had not bothered to tell Theodore and hoped he knew how much that set him apart. As Draco stroked her hair, she relayed her shock that her mother was not only a Legilimens all along, but had not interfered with her growing art. She said that she still had a piece of Foe-Glass from Rhiannon, and worried that constantly checking it would consume her as it had Rhiannon. She told him that she had passed the Transfiguration and Arithmancy O.W.L.s, because for whatever reason that seemed relevant in the comfort of Draco's arms.

"Did you fail Herbology?" he grinned when she avoided the topic.

"I was never good at Herbology," she laughed, thinking of Quennell's arboreal Horcrux with a dark, coping sense of humour.

"I would like to know where you're going next," Draco said after a glance at the clock.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps I could find a family friend or someone from—"

"Don't go to the Tonkses," Draco interrupted. "The Dark Lord sicced Bellatrix on them not long ago. She's after my other aunt, Lupin, and all. They're with the Order of the Phoenix, not to mention they have connections to the House of Black."

In response to Astoria's look, Draco added, "I knew you'd consider them a safe place to go. I wanted to warn you ahead of time that it's one of the worst choices you could make. You'd do better to live in Snape's pantry than with the Tonkses."

"Point taken, Draco," Astoria murmured, clearly remembering the ominous conversation her mother had had with Mrs Tonks two Christmases ago. The problem was that Mrs Tonks would have understood and welcomed Astoria with open arms.

"I have to go soon. You know all the things I don't want you to do already," Draco said, watching the lowering sun rather than the clock.

Astoria nodded without much commitment to behaving herself, and Draco called in Theodore. After nagging him further about where not to take Astoria, Draco returned to the subject of Nott Sr.

"If I hear anything about your father, I'll let you know as soon as I can," Draco said.

"Funny. I thought I was to tell you any news I heard," Theodore snapped.

Astoria clenched her fists; Theodore had done a poor job convincing Draco that he thought his father was really missing or dead. But she and Theodore both realised Draco's intentions at the same time.

"If I hear anything about your father, that means I'm not the only one who did, Theodore. Do you understand? So that's why I'll tell you if something… uncovers," Draco emphasised.

Theodore bit his cheek and caught Draco in one of those manly, one-armed, patting sort of hugs. If Astoria were in a better situation, she might have tried to mimic it when Draco kissed her goodbye. It certainly would have made him laugh.

"Ready?" Theodore said the moment Draco wasn't there to nag any longer. "Describe your cousin's place to me, and we'll get going."