Astoria of Slytherin: The Complete Series

by PerfidiouslySnatching

Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy clash when they meet. (It's not Draco's fault Astoria's best friends with the only Muggle-born in Slytherin, right?) Their habit of keeping things from each other dies hard once the war creeps upon them. It takes some time and several mistakes, but they come to understand what it means to really love another person through thick and thin.

76. 4:14 The Dark Arts

Book 4: Astoria Greengrass and the Curse of Quennell Park
Song rec: "Cherry Tree" by The National

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Flora made eye contact with Astoria through the bathroom mirror as they struggled for space to wash their faces.

"You haven't slept."

"Look who's talking," Astoria answered warmly.

Flora did not respond with equal warmth.

"You're actively casting something."

"How can you tell?"

Flora stopped looking at her through the mirror and met her face-to-face.

"I know the feeling of your magic by now."

Flora was mildly upset that Astoria couldn't say the same. Magic was magic to Astoria in most cases; it didn't come with flavours and colours. The only magic she could definitively recognise was her mother's and whatever hung heavy in the forest at Quennell Park. Those memories made her think of bigger problems than maintaining a Patronus overnight. She wanted some way to address her immediate threats like Alecto and Amycus, but she also strove to protect herself from Quennell's curse.

"I did want to talk about your magic, actually," Astoria said, yanking her hat down.

Flora shook her hands in the sink and pulled some of Hestia's makeup and potions out from the vanity drawer, kindly getting them ready for her. But she was also waiting to see what else Astoria would say.

"You've practised the Dark arts before," Astoria whispered.

"To protect Hestia at home, yes, but I mostly read up on them rather than practised," Flora insisted. "Why?"

"You've read quite a bit, then. I was hoping you could help me learn some things."

Astoria hadn't spent any time thinking of better ways to word that, and she was met with the consequences. Flora did not grace her with an answer and left the bathroom with a loud scoff. Their turn to get ready was over, though, so whilst Hestia and Alexa sleepily stumbled in, Astoria struck again.

"I wouldn't ask you without good cause, Flora."

"There is nothing stopping you from renting Dark texts from the library anymore. You're in N.E.W.T. D.A.D.A., so just take what you want. Don't make me escort you through it. I don't want that guilt," Flora said.

Her words and tone were callous, but Astoria knew her friend was troubled inside. She tried to ease some of Flora's anxiety.

"I'm only interested for the same reason you are. I want the added protection. I'm tired of feeling defenceless."

Flora clicked her tongue, "The Dark arts cannot be considered protection. The magic is corrupt, and your body isn't meant for it. The whole point of the Dark arts is to cause undue harm, and these spells can backfire on you. This breed of magic doesn't tolerate weak wills. It will not listen to hesitation."

"I'm no longer weak," Astoria said, "and I've always had to mean what I cast."

Flora's eyes lowered.

"Oh, yeah. Your angry cherry. Maybe you'll have a penchant for Dark magic."

"I'm not looking for bragging rights, Flora," Astoria remained firm. "I'm honestly terrified of your aunt after being trapped with her. We're going to be walking past Death Eaters every day. I'm simply asking you where and how I should start. I don't want to do anything foolish."

Flora didn't want to look at Astoria anymore and busied herself with lacing and re-lacing her frayed black boots. She sighed.

"I would start by making a grimoire of the spells that strike a chord with you. Don't put anything blatantly dangerous in there. You'll know what fits your style. Don't go looking for what's 'cool.' Do not practise from the original texts. It won't be good for you. Make them your own, in the comfort of your own grimoire."

"You're going too fast," Astoria admitted. "Why can't I cast spells based on what I've read?"

"Dark magic doesn't work like natural magic. I'm not gonna say it again. The way you learn it is contaminated with the intent of the one you learnt it from. For example, think of when you learnt how to unlock a door. Your teacher's intent wouldn't influence the exact force that you unlocked the door with. Nothing about the way McGonagall turns a book into a fish tank affects the kind of fish that end up in our tanks when we cast the spell. Am I making sense? Dark magic is a cumulative force. Even if I were to pick up on a Dark spell from someone I hate, their intentions and their use of it come through me. Then it's my responsibility to control that force and tame the magic. It's a physical, mental, and moral workout to undo social learning. It's even worse to harness things from old books, since we don't know the authors, and we can't guarantee they're honest about the girth of the spells."

Astoria was awestruck. Flora's advanced knowledge made her wish she, too, had the attention span to make it through books on magical theory.

"All right, I think I understand. The point of the grimoire is to collect notes about what your own interpretations are, right? To offset others' direct impact on your casting?"

"…Absolutely," Flora said.

Astoria was affronted at how surprised Flora was that she had understood the point. Flora must have assumed her lengthy speech would be enough to deter Astoria.

"So then how do I make a grimoire?" Astoria pestered whilst she still had Flora impressed.

It wasn't that Astoria didn't know the word, but she doubted she could simply tear off some scratch paper and get to work. Flora attempted to lace her shoes a third time, frustrated as her long, straight hair cascaded over her shoulders and got in her way.

"The best method for someone starting out would be to vandalise another book. The act of defacing something you care about…"

Flora clawed out her laces.

"…imbues your magical energy into it. Until it's concentrated, contained in the purest form."

It was all esoteric to Astoria. She waited for more.

"Pick a book that means something to you and write in it. Glue pages on top of what's there. Scribble in the margins. Use blank space. Bleed the original ink out. A blank book is too troublesome to build into something substantial. The best grimoire would be something like a diary."

"A diary," Astoria said. "I've never kept a diary."

"Remember that scrapbook thing Rhiannon used to have? With all her confessions and song drafts in it? That would make an excellent grimoire. Her notebook, too. I almost wish Hestia had it. She could become the next Dark Lord with that."

"I don't have anything like Rhiannon did, either. Father took all our possessions out before he let us leave the country, and I wouldn't have anything on me now anyway. Did you make one yourself? What did you use?"

Flora suddenly choked up in a rare display of emotional vulnerability.

"A baby album. Mother bought it. The… the pages are to hold photographs, so it wasn't always easy to write… But there weren't, you know, any photographs, so…"

Astoria had triggered something profoundly sore and sat next to Flora on the bed.

"She wrote a note in the front of the book before she even knew she was having… more than one baby. I can see where she… I can see where she Vanished the old phrasing and wrote in… how she loved us. Well, she never did end up knowing us, but…"

Flora scooted away and put her face in her sleeve, not wanting any comforting touch from Astoria. Yet she did want the company, so Astoria stayed. A baby album for a grimoire, though… it was almost as unpleasant to hear as it must have been to reveal.

"It must work because your mother wanted to protect you," Astoria offered. "I can tell you're upset with yourself for making it a grimoire. Even though she wasn't teaching you magic, your mother's intent would be to protect you, so that's how you can harness some darker magic to protect Hestia. You said this magic was cumulative with intent."

Flora's eyes swelled, the feeling of tears foreign on her pale lashes.

"Yes, that's what I've always thought. That's how I looked at it. I try to use it to keep my sister safe from those two. I don't do anything bad with it. I couldn't."

"I'm sure that's what your mother would want, really," said Astoria, thinking of how her own mother had used Dark magic to take down three Death Eaters.

Unlike Flora, Astoria was the kind of girl who cried when she saw other people cry. However, Flora wouldn't take kindly to her big, big tears, since she was already pulling it back together. So Astoria stifled it. They waited for the other girls quietly and then left for breakfast, with Flora placing a spell on their door. When they entered the slow stream of students leaving the common room, Astoria saw Montel and Tracey hoping to catch her attention. She didn't want to tell the story of Quennell Park again.

"Good morning," she said to them. "I'm glad to see you're both safe."

Tracey sighed and gave her a hug. She had the kind of strength and skill Astoria wanted, pure and normal. There wasn't a thought in Tracey's mind that Dark magic would be the best option to protect her brother. So why did Astoria keep looking at it that way? Their differing experiences? Montel gave Astoria a sad look and said, "We heard about your family. I wanted to meet up and talk last night, but I didn't know what to say. If you ever need anything, we're here for you."

"Thank you, Montel," Astoria said. "That means a lot to me. Erm, I don't know if you both know this, but Professor Sinistra said it's at the point we should just lie low."

"Oh, yeah, definitely. This place is crawling with Death Eaters. It feels wrong not to speak up, though," Montel said emphatically. "I can't wrap my head round it, how bad it's been."

Astoria nodded because there weren't many words left. At least it felt good to have a sizeable group of people near her on the walk to breakfast. Breakfast had a bit more buzz than the feast the night previous, but the Great Hall still lacked the usual laughter and excitement. Astoria in particular was overwrought with Alecto Carrow's presence in a setting that was supposed to be safe. Astoria followed the twins to a seat and waited for her food and schedule. She wondered when she could finally release her Patronus because it felt like it was getting closer to her wand. She wondered if she would still be able to cast a Patronus for Draco if she let her wand make more Dark magic.

Draco walked in with a roll of parchment and the glowing form of Pavo at his side. It caught many Gryffindors' attention, since they must have known that he couldn't cast one. Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom looked confused. Astoria tried to let the spell go quietly, but the moment she moved her wand, the Patronus strutted proudly back to her before vanishing.

"You've made a scene," Flora criticised, but having felt her Patronus made Astoria not care as much.

Draco briefly reported to Snape and then walked right up to her. He was in a great mood, having been next to a Patronus overnight. He shimmied into Flora's personal space to touch Astoria's shoulder.

"That Patronus was a nice surprise, Astoria," he said smoothly. "But you must have been awake all night. You didn't have to do that. I was fine."

"I believe I did. You might only have been fine because of the spell."

"Well, you can't do it every night," he said, still blatantly showing affection in spite of how many eyes were on them.

He was waiting for either Flora or Montel to move a seat down, which neither of them did. Astoria wished one of them would so that he wouldn't be standing behind her and rubbing her shoulders. Astoria was supposed to be something Draco was ashamed of, not something to show off. She couldn't play the role of blood purist to maintain this. She couldn't stand the stare Parkinson was giving her.

"Flora, if you'd be so kind," Draco stressed, and Flora budged up stiffly to avoid a bigger scene.

Astoria couldn't help but feel happy to sit next to him, and she wished it wasn't such a mental circus to display her affection publicly. It had been far too long since she had seen him so carefree, and she dreaded the moment it would wear off. She'd maintain a Patronus twenty-four seven if she could, just to protect him from pain.

"Our schedules should come out soon," he said. "I won't have too many classes."

He had the same classes last year, but trying to kill Headmaster Dumbledore had taken up most of his time. Astoria faked a smile. It looked fake, too, which is why he asked her what was wrong. They shared a look.

"Stupid question, huh?" Draco recognised.

The schedules appeared in front of them well before their food did, likely so nobody would throw up at the sight of the Carrows' classes mid-meal. It was a Tuesday, and Astoria only had one class, Charms. She held her schedule in line with Draco's so they could compare. Draco had Potions right after breakfast, followed by Transfiguration just before her Charms class. He was free whilst she was still in Charms and then had no other classes.

"Want to hang out after lunch?"

Of course I do. I've missed you so badly.

"That's fine," she said.

Wednesdays would be busy for them. Astoria had both of the Carrows' classes plus double Arithmancy. Draco had to endure both Carrows as well, plus Transfiguration and double Potions.

"We'll do evenings then," Draco said.

"You really want to see me that much?" she joked.

Then she remembered he wanted to be with her forever deep down. She had yet to sort through her feelings about that, considering the war. But his feelings didn't bother her today, now that she had made up her mind to be her own source of protection. On Thursdays, they could meet before, during, and after lunch if they so desired, and on Fridays, Draco had no classes. Astoria grimaced that it was another day she had both Carrows. On Mondays, she had Amycus's class but not Alecto's, then Arithmancy, Transfiguration, and Astronomy at 10:30. Draco had Alecto's class during her only free period, so they would only see each other in Astronomy. They sat there discussing schedules until their food appeared.

Astoria realised she hadn't bothered to ask the twins about their schedules. She felt rude, but there was comfort in knowing they had plenty of classes together. Hestia was the only one in Care of Magical Creatures, but she had dropped Transfiguration as quickly as Astoria had quit Herbology. Hestia looked into her own piece of Rhiannon's Foe-Shard, held in a custom frame. When she and Astoria compared images, they looked similar. Amycus and Alecto were in the front and other patrolling Death Eaters they didn't know stood behind them.

"I wonder how Amycus is going to mark papers when he can't do any maths," Hestia grunted.

"He'll do it how he feels," Flora answered. "It won't matter by the time we leave school."

Astoria sensed the hidden meaning in Flora's sentence — both twins would be forced to take the Dark Mark. Hestia would likely get herself killed before she even started, refusing the Dark Mark at the cost of her life. Astoria once again fantasised removing Dark Marks from her friends' arms and escaping the country with them. She certainly had big plans for someone so shrimpy.

"Would you come to the Astronomy library with me after lunch today?" Astoria asked Draco.

"That works."

She didn't know why she'd asked him so quietly; she would have to tell her roommates where she was going anyway. They couldn't afford to keep secrets from each other this year. As Alexa Crover had said, they had to have each others' backs.

Astoria snooped round the restricted section of the library during her free period whilst the twins got dirty in Herbology. She timidly took out several titles: Dark Methodology, User-Safe Curses, Development in Darkwork, 1800-1899, and Blood Magick. The last book weighed much more than it appeared to. She had no intention of using it but felt entitled to read it after discovering Quennell's disastrous curse.

When she met up with the twins, she hid her books and listened to their stories about Slughorn. He had not taken the chance to brew dangerous potions and leave them out on the desk this year. Rather, he had a foul-smelling one brewing, and by the time roughly forty students made their own, the whole area of the dungeons stunk.

"It was an advanced Energy Potion," Hestia huffed. "Quidditch players use it religiously, but it can make your heart race."

"Why did it smell so awful?" Astoria asked her, since any talk of foul smells made her think of bundimuns.

"Essence of Beater," Hestia quipped.

Despite Astoria's best efforts to conceal her new readings, she had left the spines of the books foolishly visible in her satchel. It took Hestia only a split second to see, judge, and comment on the books.

"Astoria! You can't be reading things like that!" she exclaimed, but when she tried to get Flora to join in, Flora dropped everything out of her own bag on purpose. Hestia had to continue to berate Astoria alone.

"One day, you're gonna need to conjure some water, and all sorts of skeletons are gonna crash down from the ceiling and eat you!"

"Oh, Hestia, hardly…"

"Or you'll need to unlock a door and find yourself pulled straight into the netherworld without even seeing the welcome sign!"

"Hestia! Really," Astoria said. "I'm reading responsibly. I merely want to know what we're up against."

"Yeah, well don't end up like them," responded Hestia in exasperation, tapping her Foe-Shard in her pocket.

Sixth-year N.E.W.T. Charms was extremely crowded, having just short of sixty students. To get into the class, one only needed an Acceptable O.W.L., and most people valued Charms over any other class. Like the other N.E.W.T. classes, all four Houses were scheduled together, and Astoria took great care to keep a low profile.

Professor Flitwick explained that they would begin with various types of defensive spells and protective magic. He never once used verbiage like "on account of the situation" or "in these trying times," but everyone in the class knew exactly why he was doing this. Astoria, as always, tried her best. Owing to practising D.A.D.A. with her friends in her fourth year, it wasn't difficult anymore, and she didn't have to embarrass herself in his class. However, she noticed that people were often glancing at her and talking amongst themselves.

That's right, she thought. My family must have made the news.

Astoria had stayed away from the newspapers as though they were as bad as Death Eaters themselves. She assumed the media had not specified that Death Eaters attacked the Greengrasses. In fact, it was probably portrayed as a disappearance rather than an evacuation. That made Astoria's presence even more confusing for students who hardly knew her. It would spawn gossip, the last thing her injured heart needed. Astoria was fed up and decided to stare back at every person who thought it was their business to gawk at her. Her eyes were always stronger than their curiosity, but people continued to whisper about her. Since class was in session and there was nothing she could do, she tried to think positively to herself. She would need to anyway; they were instructed to try Patronus Charms during the second half of class.

People will eventually realise I'm not the cause of my family going missing.

I'll have no trouble with this charm. I'm getting pretty good!

Pavo strutted round her desk so that anyone who hadn't seen him already got a perfect look at his feathers. In the next seat over, Hestia sighed about Rhiannon, whose absence impeded her ability to produce anything corporeal. Flora, at first, seemed to be having more luck. She must have picked a strong, happy memory, for her Runespoor Patronus started to take shape.

This is much safer and more practical than Dark magic, Astoria thought.

She looked over fondly at Flora, but Flora's colour was washing from her cheeks. In fact, Astoria had never seen somebody so displeased in the presence of a Patronus, much less their own.

"There's supposed to be three," Flora muttered, staring at her serpentine ally.

Only then did Astoria notice that Flora's Patronus came into form with two heads, when Runespoors were born with three.

"It's still a corporeal Patronus," Hestia chimed in optimistically. "You did a good job."

"There's supposed to be three," Flora ignored her. "There's supposed to be three."

Astoria didn't see the problem with varying Patronus forms. Pavo happened to have all of his flawless plumage, but as long as he would chase off dementors, she was content with any state of his appearance.

I should really stick with natural magic.

Who am I kidding — that won't stop someone like Xavier Lofthouse.

I killed Xavier Lofthouse and Caleb Price.

When Astoria grabbed her things at the end of class, the book on blood magic felt heavier still, and she had to squat to pick it up. Flora, who always noticed everything, saw her and remarked, "You should return that one."

"Why?" Astoria argued. "They'll use this sort of magic against us."

Little did Flora know, Quennell's Horcrux had been using blood magic against Astoria's family for centuries. Astoria had every right to learn about it before Death Eaters would come for her, too.

"Your 'fight fire with fire' attitude concerns me if you went straight for that," muttered Flora. "Who knows what you'll pick up from a book like that. How about you pay attention in Charms and learn some normal spells first? Professor Flitwick is sure to teach us things we can use to protect ourselves. He knows that D.A.D.A. is a sham now."

The fact that Flora had told her all about grimoires before breakfast and encouraged a defensive use of Dark magic made it more worrying that blood magic was off the table. But it got the job done, hadn't it? Quennell Park was nowhere to be found.

Astoria wanted to get away from the outpour of the giant class and find Draco. Maybe he would understand. She was distracted, though, by students who increasingly felt there was no need to keep their voices low.

"Remember when Dumbledore got killed? Astoria's the one who was talking to Theodore Nott when he trapped us in the common room. It was like she knew about it," said Tracey Nettlebed.

"Oh, I remember. And she cast those nasty spells on people in her way," said Kieran Harper.

"You both saw that for real?" asked a Gryffindor girl in a rare inter-House conversation. "I was wondering about her. She's always sat next to the Carrow twins when we had Potions. She had to have known about that family."

A Gryffindor boy added, "Wait till I tell my parents she's the only one not missing. They've been keeping up on the Greengrass case with every newspaper."

Astoria lost it. These four weren't the only ones talking about her by any means, but they were the ones saying the worst things. Perhaps it was counterintuitive, but she shoved a few people out of the way to confront the group.

"How dare you speak of my family that way," she heaved. "You — you fragile-witted, shallow, mindless little tools!"

People cleared the circle all too willingly. Tracey Nettlebed, already spooked from Draco's comments, hid behind the Gryffindors. The Gryffindors and Kieran Harper drew their wands.

"GET YOUR EFFING TWIGS OUT OF MY FACE!" Astoria spit.

It was like she didn't even need to draw her wand with as angry as she was. She was nearly blacking out from her thoughts. Everything from that night at Quennell Park came back to her yet again.

"My family was attacked by Death Eaters because we actually cared about what the world's come to! Unlike you burbling thumb-twiddlers, we made a point about human rights! Ivory Stretton ordered my cousin's family killed, and I had to watch my uncle die because Xavier Lofthouse took the opportunity to murder him as he was grieving over his son! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I DID TO XAVIER LOFTHOUSE‽ I'D SOONER DIE FOR MY FAMILY THAN ANY OF YOU WOULD RAISE A FINGER FOR YOURS!"

"Astoria! Astoria, hey, that's enough!"

"You all want to know the reason I'm here‽ My family thinks I'm DEAD! They think I died when the house exploded! NOW I'M STUCK HERE WITH YOU ARSEHOLES—"

"Astoria! ASTORIA! Stop it! Okay, you've made your point! Calm down!"

"— SAYING THINGS ABOUT ME — ABOUT MY FRIENDS —"

"ASTORIA, ALL RIGHT!"

The persistent voice belonged to the hands that now wrestled with her as she continued to scream in the face of wand-points.

"YOU THINK I WAS INVOLVED IN DUMBLEDORE'S MURDER‽ I'LL TELL YOU WHO KILLED DUMBLEDORE! IT W—"

Whoever was holding her let her go and slapped her hard across the mouth. It was probably Hestia or Flora. No, it hadn't sounded like them. Astoria instinctively turned to the direction of the pain, her arms ready to grip and claw and fight…

It wasn't anyone she expected. It was Ginevra Weasley. Ginny's jaw was set and her expression displeased. She was physically stronger than Astoria, so Astoria's wrestling amounted to nothing without her wand. She couldn't believe the amount of sweat pouring off of her or the unreality of her surroundings. The people she was yelling at had disappeared into the crowd already. Never before had she lost it like this.

"Were those your friends or something?" Astoria growled, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

"No," said Ginny.

Astoria stumbled backwards out of Ginny's hold. Her ears were pulsing with her heartbeat, making her head feel heavy.

"You don't need to keep standing there waiting for me to say something. I'm not sorry," Astoria heaved.

"What do I care if you're sorry or not? You didn't say anything wrong, exactly."

Astoria had to hand it to Ginny for patiently listening. She was so unlike the Gryffindors who liked to stir the cauldron. Still, Ginny remained standing there, adamant about something or other. The extended lull in the action sent most of the audience on their way. Astoria's friend group was still there, apparently content to let Ginny deal with this.

There is no fight, Astoria convinced herself, though she was itching for one.

"You can't go round announcing things about Dumbledore. The Ministry's deliberately trying to put the blame on Harry. That means they'll come after the people who say differently," Ginny said tensely.

"Wait, aren't you nice and personal with Harry?" Astoria confronted. "Why would you want me to agree with the Ministry?"

"Not agree with it, Astoria! I don't think you need to be bragging about attacking Death Eaters when their families are in the school, and Snape is headmaster. I'm all for resistance, don't get me wrong, but please do it the right way. Other people aren't going to understand. You'll only cause more rumours."

"I've already got plenty of advice about how I'm supposed to be protecting myself, thanks," Astoria explained, since they were not fighting.

"Well, you don't do a very good job of protecting yourself by snogging Draco Malfoy," Ginny sneered. "You can't get all offended by people thinking things about your family when someone like him gives you backrubs at breakfast."

"I have every right to be upset," Astoria responded.

Ginny's lips parted to retort, but she stopped herself and reworded whatever had first come to her.

"This shiny pure-blood bracelet we have? It's the only thing saving you and me right now."

"I've been made aware of that, too, Ginny."

"Well, I don't want the Death Eaters to think you have information," Ginny said. "They'll send it up. Understand?"

Astoria hated this. Ginny had a point. Astoria had lost her temper, by chance, in an area where there were no Death Eaters patrolling. Of course, everything that had happened was going to make its way round the school through word of mouth. Maybe it was a good thing Astoria hadn't blurted about Snape's crime. And what good would that have done anyway? She knew Snape only did it because he'd made an Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco. There was no way to explain that to the hapless student body. Well, Astoria would sooner admit that she and Ginny were both right than admit to being wrong. She did not say anything else to Ginny before taking the turn for a different set of stairs. Flora and Hestia's questions came right on cue. What the heck just happened, what were you thinking, where are you going, how long will you be, where are we meeting? Yes, they were looking out for her, but it was like she had no will of her own. Even though Hogwarts was overrun by Death Eaters, Alecto Carrow couldn't trap her in a classroom forever and keep her alive on oxtail soup. Astoria stormed up the stairs to Astronomy Tower. It belonged to her.

Draco was already sitting in the Astronomy library when she arrived, and he was already watching for her when she walked in. Her stomping must have been loud. She settled herself down, eyeing the warmth of Draco's long cloak and the shape of his hands.

Later.

"Draco, I'm an idiot."

He rolled his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"People in Charms were accusing me of… of basically selling out my family, and I just went mad. I almost gave too much away about Snape and Dumbledore… And Lofthouse and Stretton and all that… I don't know what came over me."

Draco's displeasure could not be camouflaged. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

"To be fair, the public had ideas about Snape before the cover-up started," Draco said slowly.

"Oh. Well, I didn't say his name."

"Oh. Then why are you so upset? You made me all worried, Astoria."

"Well, Ginny Weasley made it sound like I was going to Azkaban tomorrow for yelling at people about what happened to my family. I don't know. I think I said that I messed up Lofthouse, but I didn't say, you know, what actually happened."

Draco pursed his lips toward the side. Astoria wasn't certain why he had such a silly expression during this kind of conversation.

"You're not going to want to hear this."

Astoria breathed, "What is it?"

"Well, you were really upset last night about it, so…"

"Draco, just spit it out!"

"All right, who cares about Xavier Lofthouse dying besides Xander? Xander's not in the school; the Dark Lord sent him out with the Snatchers as part of the family's punishment. We've already established that we're all supposed to be furious at Stretton's group. And yes, I mean that 'we.'"

"Well... I don't know. Ginny said something about being interrogated for more information. I thought back to how you have to do the interrogations for You-Know-Who, and—"

"Astoria, stop. You're not making sense anymore. The Quennell Park case is closed on our end. There's no need for an interrogation."

"Well, I don't know how it all works, Draco!" she said frantically. "All those times in your memories when you had to use that awful Cruciatus Curse…"

"I was ordered to do that for people who either failed their operatives or otherwise miffed the Dark Lord," he said solemnly. "He's a bit busy, you know."

"And? Isn't this miff-worthy?"

"Well, you're not going to want to hear this, either."

"Damn it, Draco, just tell me, okay?"

"A fifteen-year-old pure-blood defeating a middle-aged bloke whose bloodline he can't trace as far back is unlikely to draw attention at a time like this. Plus, the Dark Lord's already used Stretton's group as an example of what happens when his orders are not followed. Yes, a blood-traitor's as bad as a Muggle-born according to them — I've been trying to tell you that from day one — but there's simply not enough pure blood left to kill all the young blood-traitors."

Astoria had once again been likened to an endangered species on a pedigree. She exhaled a hiss.

"You used to act like I was public enemy number-two because of Rhiannon."

"Rhiannon's not here for you to stand up for anymore. The quieter you are, the safer," Draco responded.

Even though their discussion the previous night had not amounted to a solution, she knew that it wasn't Draco who looked at her as an object. He was just telling it like it was. She took a seat across from him. It took time to shake off the event, and even more time to balance the fact that she, Ginny, and Draco were all correct in some way. Draco busied himself with his Transfiguration textbook. He still had not removed his cloak. She calmed down just by watching him.

"You're still cold after the hike up here?" she asked.

"No, I just look good in this," he hummed. "So, what's on the agenda now?"

It was hard to focus on the other conversation she had planned when the afternoon sun dressed his face like that. The fact that there was no one around threw her breathing and tainted her thoughts. Draco was oblivious to her inner turmoil, though. Maybe he should stay that way. Astoria hoisted her bag onto the desk and took out the books.

"What are those?" he asked.

"Texts on Dark magic."

"For…?"

"For me."

Draco drummed his fingers on the tabletop. His brow furrowed, but he couldn't quite bring himself to stop her. It wasn't that he completely understood her feelings about using it to protect people, though. It was more that he really wanted to see her do it. His pale eyes switched between her face and the books with a sharp interest that he knew better than to declare outright.

"So… you need my help or something?" Draco said, gently clearing his throat.

Astoria wasn't sure if she needed his help or simply his moral support, though the look he was giving her wasn't very moral. She just didn't want to be alone for her first dive into the Arts, and she preferred to have him there over anyone else in the world.

"I'm going to make a grimoire. Flora said that was the easiest way for starters."

Draco rubbed his face.

"For starters? I consider that intermediate, Astoria. Shouldn't you start with casting some curses safely before you try making one of those?"

Astoria stared at him blankly. He meant everything to her, but she still trusted Flora's judgment better. After all, Flora was the one who directly dealt with Alecto and Amycus. Draco mostly had used hexes and curses to cause trouble at school. Either way, getting started was difficult. Astoria had picked the Astronomy library since she assumed desecrating a book here would have the most meaning for her. Professor Sinistra had told her and Rhiannon to stop duelling there two years ago, but times had changed.

"Flora said the book I use should have special meaning for me, like a diary."

Draco groaned.

"I think she's way too far in it for your purposes," he said firmly. "You're only doing this to protect yourself, right? Why do you have a book like Blood Magick then? That thing looks hideous. You could defeat the whole point of this and hurt yourself."

"I brought you here because I thought you wouldn't judge me, Draco," Astoria said with a sarcastic smile. "I would like you to pick out the book for my grimoire. My only request is that it's something Professor Sinistra won't notice is missing."

Draco suddenly didn't seem so opposed to her plan anymore. Instead of playing the part of the resolute protector, he flushed red.

"Shouldn't you pick one? It's supposed to have meaning for you."

"All of these books have meaning to me. I love astronomy, and I have many memories in this library. It would take me too long to choose. Plus, one astronomy book is going to have the same meaning as the next if I'm the one picking it. When it comes to the books in here, it's not so much which one it is," she said.

"…It's that I pick it," Draco smirked. "That's so corny, Astoria. I don't think the purpose of a grimoire is to soak it in romanticism."

Astoria disagreed. If most grimoires were authored by lonely, brooding people with incurable misanthropy, hers should be made out of love of others.

"Go get me a book, please."

Draco smiled to himself and left her at the desk. His ease had piqued her Legilimency. Astoria couldn't quite tap into what he was thinking about her request, but she heard his warm thoughts faintly, as though they were music coming from the next room over. He was so utterly entrancing. She had to get a hold of herself. She opened the soft-cover handbook called User-Safe Curses to begin. She could test them on the flying putti statues overhead. It wasn't like she could make a punching bag out of Pansy Parkinson.

There were curses of all flavours in the book. One adhered the victim's hands to their eyes so that they could neither see nor cast in retaliation. One dislocated joints, and another conjured controlled water to flood a building but not the land surrounding it. Astoria felt guilty for thinking of uses for each of them. She would need to overcome that feeling. She needed to make these spells her own.

"Did you find a book, Draco?"

"I'm looking at a few here…"

Astoria heard Draco clunking round the bookshelves and returned a few books to their place. He emerged from a middle row with a fairly thin one. He saw her reaction and justified the size, "It's so you can carry it easily."

"I thought it was because you didn't want me collecting too many curses," she answered. "I'm onto you, Draco."

Draco walked over and rubbed her back, unaware of the tingling torture he created on her skin. He placed the book in front of her. It had dark blue binding with no title on the cover. It must have lost its protective jacket some time ago; the library stamp was directly on the binding. At least it wasn't from Professor Sinistra's personal collection. Astoria opened to the title page. It was called The Belt of the Zodiac. The author, Amaryllis Shotts, wasn't anyone Astoria recognised from her studies, which would make the book a blank slate.

"Is that sufficient?" Draco asked.

"Yes, I'll take my notes right in here. Thank you very much," she said. "Oh, er, Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Can we please keep this secret?"

"I'd love to," he said, and all the air in the room became unbreathable.

"You know something, Astoria?" Draco mumbled, daring to play with her hair that fell from under her hat. "All this Dark magic… I think you might be a bad example for me."

"Oh, that's it," she said, and she drew him down into a kiss.

He wasn't clueless after all.

---

If Astoria had known they really were going to be learning the Dark arts in class on Wednesday, she might not have spent over two hours collecting spells into her so-called grimoire the night before. That, combined with holding a Patronus Charm throughout Draco's patrol shift again, put her in no condition to be dealing with both Carrows in the same day. Amycus Carrow, fuzzy-haired and stout, stomped all over the classroom as he waxed on about the might of curses. He claimed wizards proved their worth by their ability to harness the power of the Dark arts. The students were all tense, but very few of the Slytherins were opposed to trying some spells.

Amycus's requirements for N.E.W.T. admission were far different from Professor Snape's. Amycus had signed on all sixth-year pure-bloods, thinking their magic was better, but there were plenty of pure-bloods whom Astoria did not trust with even a jinx. He signed on half-bloods only if they scored well, though they had to sit in the back.

Amycus had not given them any required readings since his own literacy was questionable. They would learn by his example, which would force them to keep their attention on him. Astoria tried to keep her gaze away from his repugnant, beady eyes, but he kept circling by her seat and staring down at her. Astoria's habit of sitting next to the twins might not have been the best choice. He was certain to pay most attention to what his nieces were doing. Not to mention, he knew everything that had happened at the hotel.

"I know some of you must be scared of Dark magic. You been taught that it's the opposite of natural magic. You need to get over that. Oh — get your bloody notes out, I'm not just talkin' to myself up here."

The students took out their supplies, but whether or not they'd use them was not up to Amycus.

"All right. Dark magic comes just as natural. Magic is divided into light and Dark, not natural and unnatural. Write that down. Now, who can tell me where light magic comes from?"

Everyone was either too frightened or too surprised that he had asked them a question to answer.

"Oh, c'mon! Didn't that half-breed teach you anything in Charms?" Amycus barked.

Amy Frome cleared her throat and raised her hand. Someone like her would probably have the answer he was looking for.

"Girl with the big earrings," Amycus called.

"Erm, well nat— I mean, light magic comes from one's will."

"That's right," Amycus nodded. "Simple enough. So, who can tell me where Dark magic comes from?"

He sauntered around more and ended up within arm's reach of Astoria and the twins. Once he looked at them, he didn't stop looking.

"No takers? I bet Astoria could tell us," he leered.

Astoria resigned herself to playing along like everyone had cautioned her to, though her voice didn't want to work.

"W-Well, Dark magic comes from our emotions, things of which we aren't aware. Or, erm, perhaps things of which we don't wish to be aware."

"Nice textbook answer. You been reading in the Restricted Section," Amycus exposed her. "So, Astoria, tell us why the modern wizard shies away from Dark magic. What's the danger?"

"Erm," Astoria muttered, trying to remember all that Flora had told her. "It's more prone to transforming into something one did not intend. There's, erm, a significant risk of rebound of the energy into the caster."

"Sure. And for those of you who don't speak posh, what she's tryna say is if you try and stop it, it only gets worse. It'll turn in on you. Mess you right up."

At last, Amycus stepped away to go breathe down other students' necks.

"We all of us make Dark magic. You can feel it in your tension headaches, in your gut. It comes out when you say somethin' you didn't mean to say. When you do something and can't stop. When your spells misfire 'cause you're in a mood. If you bury it deep enough, when you finally let it out, you could make a poltergeist, obscurus, or dementor. Or a boggart."

Astoria didn't need to look behind her to know that Amycus was circling back. She couldn't tell whether the classroom was ice cold or scorching.

"Flora, why don't you demonstrate our first curse for the class?"

Flora's knuckles were already white over her wand. She stepped to the front. She did not look back at Hestia or Astoria.

"Now, when someone's getting ready to have a go at you," Amycus prefaced, as he was pretending that this was a real class, "You'll want something quick and to the point, right? Right. What curse you wanna learn today?"

The students all stared at him, unnerved that he was trying to talk to them as a normal teacher. Everyone expected him to prattle off like Umbridge had, but Amycus was full of unpleasant surprises.

"No one? You, you there with the jacket. First off, take the jacket off. That ain't part of your uniform. All right. Now what's your name?"

He had honed in on Montel Davis. Flora closed her eyes.

"All right, Davis. What curse you wanna see the little lady do?" Amycus sneered.

"The countercurse for vomiting slugs," Montel sneered back.

"What are you, a first-year?" Amycus berated him. "You there — yeah, Manson. Give us a man's curse, eh?"

Max Manson looked delighted to dream up something to make Flora do.

"The Bone-Shatter Curse!" he said.

"There! Now that's a proper curse!" Amycus said, pleased. "The other Professor Carrow and I learnt that one at Durmstrang, believe it or not. They really prepare you for martial magic, they do. Nobody gets soft. That's what we would like for this class, see."

He began making rounds through the desks. Astoria had a decent idea about what was coming next.

"Let's see… as them Muggles say…" he said, craning his thick neck over each student, "'For my next trick, I'll need a volunteer.'"

Amycus seemed pointedly interested in Luna Lovegood's flamboyant outfit and the sweet expression she wore in spite of adversity. She had covered up her identification bracelet with many bangles and a big polka-dot ribbon tied in a bow. She was trying to balance being herself and not standing out. It wasn't working, and she was about to feel the wrong end of a Bone-Shatter Curse. Ginny Weasley was seconds away from recklessly intervening.

"I'll go," Astoria said, standing up with equal recklessness.

Astoria and Luna made eye contact for less than a second. Astoria wasn't dwelling on trying to make a friend. She just didn't want to succumb to the same complacency so many people had in that Muggle city when Alecto had held Astoria at wandpoint in a wet shirt. Astoria didn't know how this was going to go, but she was damned if she didn't try. Hestia made a pitiful noise as Astoria walked to the front of the room. Imogen Stretton and her friend Olivia Shardlow looked at the unfolding scene with sadistic relish. The other students gawped at her choice to volunteer, especially with a witch like Flora Carrow behind the wand.

Amycus's beady glare prickled her, and she gave him her best one back until they both grew equally uncomfortable. Amycus walked up behind her instead. He grabbed her by the elbows, positioning her to stand perfectly in line with the floorboards. He then leaned over, digging his chin into her shoulder. His breath smelled awful.

"I knew you'd come," Amycus whispered through an unpalatable laugh.

He jabbed his aspen wand in her spine. Astoria was slightly surprised that Flora didn't say a word as they stood across from each other. She didn't even shake her head in exasperation or frown any more than she had frowned already. Amycus removed himself from the line of fire and put his rump on a student's desk in the front row.

Astoria had her wand up her sleeve. She wasn't that keen to feel this curse in Luna's place. At the same time, she didn't know if blocking the curse would have further consequences from Amycus. She wished she could just ask the arsehole, "Hey, are you planning to do something worse if I block it, or is this already bad enough? Just wondering." Oh well. Astoria resigned herself to her fate.

"Crack on, my little flower. Show the class what you can do," Amycus pushed.

"Fractura maxima," Flora mouthed, and Astoria instantly parried the curse, the nib of her wand barely out of her sleeves.

A few people gasped, and Montel whooped from the back of the room. Astoria knew she hadn't done any good keeping her wand in her sleeve; it was extremely obvious to Amycus what had happened.

"Fine work, ladies," Amycus said, tapping his hand on his knee. "Now, you lot saw that movement Greengrass did with her wand, right? You hold tight and swipe the spell to the opposite side as your wand hand. All right. Get that in your heads… because we're about to see what happens when you don't block it. Expelliarmus."

Astoria's wand rattled when it hit the floor, and it rolled up against the wall. She made a sad whistle in her exhaling breath. Hospital Wing it was. Professor Sinistra was going to be so angry with her for provoking Amycus. Astoria wondered if she might just use her bare hands for magic, as Professor Sinistra and her own mother had done on occasion.

"Fractura maxima," Flora barely enunciated again, and Astoria did indeed try to shoo it with her hands, but that was not the kind of thing any wand-raised teenager could do. For as gently as Flora had attempted to cast it, it destroyed Astoria's right arm. Astoria fell to her knees on the hard floor, which only served to cause her more pain. She cried out, and the pain was so severe that she couldn't think of anything else. Hestia jumped out of her seat without permission, with her wand also pointed at Astoria. Astoria cowered like an abused animal, as Hestia's image holding her wand in healing was nearly identical to Flora's image before the attack.

"Eliminata!" Hestia cast, and Astoria's pain dulled substantially, but it didn't vanish as the incantation might have led one to believe. Astoria saw coloured spots in her vision and felt she might pass out.

"Petrificus totalus!" Amycus shouted cruelly at Hestia, and she fell half onto Astoria, half onto the floor.

Flora was motionless, watching them writhe on the floor with haunted eyes. From their angle, Astoria and Hestia saw only the back of Amycus's cloak as he addressed the class.

"I think we learnt lots of valuable lessons today, eh? We learnt how to cast a good, solid curse, how to block it, what it does… And of course, what happens to you when you don't listen to me."

---

Astoria missed her first class in N.E.W.T. Arithmancy, an extremely important double period, because she spent all that time in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was livid this had happened to a student, but she had no one to report to any longer. She started dosing out some Skele-Gro to get Astoria's recovery started, but amidst her work, two more students wilted through the entrance with gashes through their shirts, clutching bleeding lacerations across their abdomens. Madam Pomfrey, who was by all accounts a tough lady, dropped the bottle she was pouring, and it splattered all over the floor. Skele-Gro was not a potion she could afford to have wasted, and she cussed at the sudden unsteadiness of her hand. She rose to action and patched what she could whilst the bleeding students were still standing. She led them along to beds and battled hard against Dark magic to truly seal the cuts. She then returned to her office cabinets to retrieve more Skele-Gro for Astoria. Not typically one to get overwhelmed, Madam Pomfrey could be heard crying quietly through the door in the few moments she was in there.

Astoria took her medicine, but she gravely feared the consequences of being truant from Muggle Studies with Alecto and pretended to be much better than she was in order to get discharged. She showed up to Muggle Studies with her arm tucked in the same sling as her wand. She couldn't use either. She had a decent hunch that this was the same curse Rabastan had cast on Professor Sinistra during the prison breakout two years prior. For some reason, that made it easier to bear the pain. Astoria sat next to the twins, because Alecto would have questioned her otherwise about Astoria "abandoning" them. Astoria didn't want to leave them anyway. Flora was guilt-ridden, and Hestia was shaken.

Alecto stood with her hands folded at the front of the classroom and watched the remaining students pour in. Like her brother, she directed all half-bloods to the back, though she failed to realise they preferred to be farther from her.

Everyone attended this class even if they had never had a Muggle Studies course in their life. Well-aware of what sort of propaganda this would entail, a few Gryffindors were indeed absent, and Alecto wrote their names on a piece of parchment with bad intent. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun with an ornamental piece to keep it in place that looked like a cage. Her robes fanned outward on either side, trailing so far that they kept people farther from her than they would have walked regardless. She was learning all the students' faces. Her eyes lingered a long time on Astoria's arm sling, as if trying to undress the pain beyond the fabric.

"As you heard, I'll be replacing Burbage," Alecto boomed once the bells tolled to begin class.

Astoria's memories flashed with what Draco had seen happen to the other teacher, and the pangs in her arm met with curdles in her stomach. Flora and Hestia likely knew their professor had been killed from collateral information, but they hadn't seen it. Astoria wasn't going to let them know how Charity Burbage had died.

"This class will be different from what you're used to, since I won't be letting you chickadees near radioactive microwaves and things," Alecto continued. "Rest assured we have your best interest in mind."

Some Ravenclaws in the back scoffed. In contrast to Amycus's belligerent nature, Alecto simply ignored them. That was no testament to Alecto's beneficence; Astoria clearly remembered the infected rug burn swelling on her skin last month.

"I don't think they've done a good job of orienting you to what is happening here, so I hope the information makes sense to you," Alecto said. "I am a Death Eater."

Hestia rolled her eyes. Astoria had assumed that the change in the administration was going to be hush-hush, so when Alecto acknowledged what everyone knew, she didn't know what to expect.

"I became a Death Eater when I was a bit older than you are for the sake of my family. I'm sure you know at least some of our group's history. It's not an easy job, and you have to earn your place. Our masks show our rank. I have mine here, and like Professor Carrow's, it's decorated on the edge with the same mantling as our family's coat of arms. Sometimes it's the little things, y'know? Better than the silly outfits they made employees wear at the old Fortescue's."

Diane Carter chuckled stupidly from across the room. Astoria felt like spitting.

"We're here in the school because the Dark Lord is thankfully alive," Alecto explained. "Headmaster Snape is a first-rank Death Eater. That came as a surprise to many of you. Now, I know I have all four Houses here, and traditionally those in the House of Slytherin run in our circle. Xander Lofthouse just left here, and he has taken up the Mark. Draco Malfoy has done the same; he is one of the prefects. We're hoping to get our girls ready for when their time comes."

Alecto slinked in front of Flora and Hestia. Flora crossed her arms, and Hestia put her head down.

"They aren't too keen on it right now, though," Alecto announced with cold hilarity in her voice. "That's understandable. It's very difficult what I do. I have to judge what is best for Wizardkind."

"It's all needless violence!" shouted Marco Amaya, a bold Gryffindor who began gagging on his own tongue not long after Alecto's spell hit him.

"Do you know what's needless violence, Amaya‽" Alecto screamed.

The curtains shut, the candles extinguished, and the entire classroom went dark as night. Astoria felt like she was in imminent danger, but with her wand hand out of commission, there was nothing she could do. Everyone shifted in their seats, but the whole class was afraid to move in a pitch-black room. The moment their eyes adjusted, though, a ridiculously bright light shone before them. It came from a conjured floating sphere, larger than the blackboard, that loosely resembled a crystal ball. The sphere, which might have been immaterial, began to rotate, and the faster it rotated, the more wind it kicked up in the classroom. Astoria squinted at its brightness. In its rotation, it began to show moving images.

Within the awful globe, the students watched in horror as a young woman was seized by a group of people in old-looking clothing and dragged off to a field where a large post had been set up. They beat her until her face and mouth bled and she was nearly unconscious. These images came with no sound; the students' imaginations filled it in. Alecto was the only one talking.

"What I have here is an extracted memory passed down through the centuries. This memory belonged to Ichabod Fawley. He was six years old at the time. This woman is his mother."

A few people in the attacking group dropped large satchels and pulled out ropes to bind the woman. Her head flopped side to side as they lifted her body and made a group effort to tie her to the post.

"This was a widespread practice, you see, and why we live apart from Muggles to this day. I will add that it was almost unheard of for wizards to meet this fate, as the Muggles targeted women. They target women for everything. They believed female witchcraft to be the same thing as devil worship," Alecto's voice carried.

The people in the memory had amassed tinder beneath the woman at the post. Astoria shut her eyes, and she felt Flora grip her uninjured hand. When several minutes had gone by without any sound in the classroom or any comment from Alecto, Astoria slowly opened her eyes.

She had miscalculated, and she saw the witch's charred skin falling off of her bones, into a roaring fire.

"I am showing you this lest we forget our history," Alecto said softly.

---

Astoria lay in the Hospital Wing, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to do further work on her arm. The Matron was extremely busy with other students who had taken hits from the Carrows. Astoria and all the students in the beds round her were supposed to be "examples." She wondered if the demand for first aid would die down when the students would stop trying, or if this would be what the wing looked like the whole year. Madam Pomfrey was working on the students in danger first, followed by the little ones. That was fine. Astoria didn't mind being last if it meant she didn't have to do anything for the evening.

Flora and Hestia were at her side, but annoyingly, they had brought along Alexa Crover. She had a loud voice and kept talking about what they had seen in Muggle Studies. Astoria wasn't sure if she could wake up each day to Alexa's noise for the next two years of school. She understood why the Death Eaters wanted to consolidate the rooms — some students in other Houses would have a dorm all to themselves if they hadn't made it look normal — but she wished Slytherin and its one opening had been exempt. Still, there were worse things than being slightly annoyed, and there were far worse people out there than Alexa Crover.

"Haven't you ever heard of illusionary magic?" Flora argued when Alexa's distress level had not waned since the last class. "Alecto's relying on everyone's ignorance. Memories can't be viewed like that! You need a Pensieve to watch memories! She just conjured up illusions for us to watch and lied about it!"

"I never heard of a Pensieve. I'm sorry, it seemed so real," Alexa said.

"That's what Alecto wants you to think!" Flora blustered.

"Well, I'm glad the memory wasn't actually real, but that is exactly the kind of thing that happened back then, isn't it? It's still realistic. We've always heard about witch burnings, but I guess I never pictured it happening in my head," Alexa said.

"Ugh! Like Flora said, that's what she wants you to be thinking, Alexa," Hestia interjected. "I'm not saying it didn't happen, because it did, but she wants us to get all worked up about it so she can spend next class ranting about how we need to kill Muggles in return!"

Alexa grew embarrassed. Flora and Hestia looked to Astoria as though she would add something to their argument. Astoria didn't have anything to add. When Alecto had said Muggles accused witches of being satanic, it made Astoria think of the bruise on Rhiannon's face before the beginning of their fourth year. Rhiannon's Muggle parents had abused her terribly because she showed signs of magic, and this was the twentieth century! Astoria hated Alecto and wasn't about to support a single thing she did. It was just that… maybe not as much had changed in society as Flora and Hestia thought. They both knew Rhiannon had been abused by her parents, but because they were pure-blood and still abused, they may not have processed the underpinnings of Rhiannon's experience.

"I can't figure out why she bothered to tell everyone about Death Eater stuff," Hestia conversed. "I thought we were supposed to keep mum. It's not like people are gonna jump up and join her, either."

Flora was livid about the elder Carrows, and it made every word she said drip with venom.

"I don't know what she has in mind, Hestia. Reverse psychology, probably. No one expected them to be open about the takeover. I bet she thinks if she's open about it, students won't shut her out automatically. She's evil."

Alexa was quite alarmed and fidgety as the twins were discussing their own aunt that way, since Alexa had never had a family system like that. Hestia softened and tried to add some humour:-

"On top of being evil, Alecto always eats the last of my snacks at home."

Astoria's attention was drawn to the door. Professor Sinistra had invited herself in whilst Madam Pomfrey was concentrating on a first-year student trembling with hives. Astoria rolled to her side and quickly tried to stifle her memories of boggarts and grimoires. Occlumency was a real struggle

"What'd she give you, Astoria?" the professor asked, her silken robes swishing over the hospital blanket as she moved to examine Astoria's arm.

"The Bone-Shatter Curse," Astoria answered.

"No, not Flora. Madam Pomfrey," Professor Sinistra clarified. (Flora, meanwhile, was profoundly disgusted that she'd had the responsibility of the curse placed on her).

"Er… she did a bone-setting thing and a chiropractic Mending Charm… and I'm on low-dose Skele-Gro," Astoria tried to recall. "Hestia used the Numbing Spell on me way earlier."

"M-hm," the professor said.

She was trying to reach Astoria's eyes. Astoria looked away pointedly.

"Please don't use that, Professor. I can simply tell you what happened," she said.

Professor Sinistra took a step back from her. The professor was very unlike her own mother, but Astoria knew a motherly glare when she saw one.

"Well, Astoria, I already know what happened. I was only trying to see how much pain you have."

Astoria sat up, saying, "Well, I can tell you that, too. It doesn't feel good, and I can't use my arm for three days. That's what the Matron told me earlier."

Professor Sinistra glanced over her shoulder at Madam Pomfrey, who was now slaving over a second-year whose eyelids had swelled shut.

"You don't have three days to be helpless, Astoria," she said rigidly. "Didn't I tell you to lie low? Now look at you."

Astoria was growing quite angry at the professor for barging in here with Legilimency and snippy words. Too bad she wasn't going to use Legilimency to actually understand how Astoria felt.

"Would you rather have had this happen to Luna Lovegood? That's why I did this in the first place," she said frantically.

The other three girls were watching the conversation intently.

"Astoria, I can assure you that when the Carrows want to hurt someone, they aren't going to stop just because you step in between. Look around you. You might have taken the hit this time, and that shows your good nature, but the next time you intervene on someone's behalf, they will simply hurt both of you! You cannot save everyone."

"What do you suggest I do, then?" Astoria snapped.

"I suggest you not get maimed," the professor returned with equal frustration. "Hold out your arm for me, and I'll fix it."

Professor Sinistra's long wand slid out from her billowing sleeves. She held the point ready.

"W-What are you going to do to it?" Astoria stalled.

Professor Sinistra huffed.

"I'm going to give you the Dark Mark, Astoria. What do you think I'm going to do?"

Astoria mumbled an anxious "sorry" and held out her arm.

"AAAGH! Ugh!"

"All right," Professor Sinistra said. "You're all better. Go sign yourself out and free up this bed for another student."

Professor Sinistra walked the girls back to the common room. Once brought to "safety," Astoria threw her bag on one of the desks by the window. Flora and Hestia knew her well enough to leave her alone, but Alexa was repeatedly asking her if there was anything she could do, if everything was all right (a stupid question), and if she was going to come to dinner later. Astoria gave noncommittal answers until Alexa walked away half-satisfied.

Astoria emptied her books on the desk. Development in Darkwork, 1800-1899 was more about history and Dark wizards than anything and wasn't going to give Astoria what she needed. Blood Magick was probably pushing it. She kept flipping through User-Safe Curses trying to find something that would capture the anger she felt so strongly. What could she defend herself with? What could she do to not be a stupid bystander?

User-Safe Curses was organised based on schools of magic, which Astoria had found surprising when she first read it. She thought that only natural magic was divided into fields like charms, transfiguration, and arithmancy and that Dark magic was just Dark magic. Shows what she knew. She had already copied several charm-based curses into her not-so-magical grimoire, so she turned to the transfiguration chapter. There was a curse where you could turn someone into a giant slug, which had happened to Draco before. Astoria wondered how many students had had their hands on this book before her. It made her feel like a late-bloomer.

Astoria didn't trust herself with transfiguration much anyway, so even though the book was called User-Safe Curses, that didn't mean it was safe for her. However, the arithmanceutical curses felt too much like Max Manson's sort of thing. There was a small runic section, so even though Astoria hadn't excelled in Ancient Runes, she figured it would be worth a shot. It turned out that if one engraved certain runes into a room, one could set booby-traps. Professor Babbling had never told them anything interesting like that before! Astoria copied it down vigorously, but the practical use was not so promising. She needed something to hit a Carrow with in an emergency, not an elaborate environmental curse. Something they couldn't reasonably parry. Astoria flipped through the rest of the book without much luck. She would have to find time alone and make another trip to the library tomorrow morning.

"Hello, Astoria."

Draco took a seat next to her and folded his arms on the desk.

"I suppose you've heard what happened," Astoria said.

"Mm, I get to hear everything," he answered. "How are you doing?"

"Professor Sinistra had to break my arm even more to 'un-break' it, I guess."

"Well, I can see that your arm is fixed. I meant how are you doing mentally?"

"I'm not in a foetal position yet," she said sardonically.

Draco studied her setup, and said, "How's the Dark magic coming? You haven't done anything yet, right? You're just reading."

"I'm reading, yes. I'm trying to catch up before I try anything. I have cast magic that could be considered Dark before, though. My friends and I used to practise duelling in the Astronomy library. It's not like I'm going to have an allergic reaction."

"Aren't you funny," Draco said. "I've been thinking about you doing this all day. I was wondering about your wand."

"My wand has been much better, really," Astoria said honestly.

"I'm glad to hear it. I was hoping, er… Whenever you decide to practise something, would you come to get me first? I have experience with this, and I want to make sure you're okay. Don't go at it alone."

"You also want to see me do it, Draco," she said, eyebrows raised.

"I want to see what you do with it," he claimed. "Someone has to be there to make sure you don't shrink your own head or something, so unless you trust Flora to save you…"

"I promise I'll come and get you first," Astoria said.

Draco stretched his arms across the table as if to see how far they would go, which was rather endearing.

"Can you promise me something else?" he asked.

As much as his accidental allure made her want to instantly say yes, she responded, "That depends. What's the matter?"

"I want you to take that blood magic book back," he said sharply.

She wasn't opposed. The book was written in an older form of English, rendering it too much trouble to understand. Astoria was keeping it on hand as a confidence booster at this point. Draco kept staring at her.

"Well, I'm not walking all the way back up there with this tonight. I'll return it tomorrow before Charms," she said. "I will do it, though. I don't have much use for it."

"All right. I was going to offer to take it back for you, but I really don't want it to suck my blood."

"Excellent point," Astoria said, and she danced her fingers up his arm toward his neck until he laughed and shooed her away.

Astoria was grateful that the alarm clocks in the dormitories could be enchanted so that only the person closest would hear. Hers was, once again, set for four in the morning. It was only the third night of sending her Patronus out with Draco, but it was exhausting. She wished he would learn the charm himself, but she knew he'd been trying for over three years unsuccessfully. He wasn't the one worried about dementors; she was.

She had been trying to get to bed at a decent time in order to do this. After all, Draco had to wake up at this hour as well. She wasn't adjusted yet. At Professor Sinistra's, she had often slept late. Astoria grabbed her Arithmancy textbook and shuffled out to the common room in the dark. She was already way behind in Arithmancy homework even though she had missed but one class, and she wondered how she would cope each Tuesday morning with Astronomy not ending until 11:30 on Monday nights.

"You don't have to do this," Draco said for the third night in a row.

"Did you learn the Patronus Charm or how to get a dementor to listen to you?" she returned.

"No, but…"

"Then hush."

Draco was never in an argumentative mood in the presence of her Patronus and peacefully left for his not-so-peaceful job. Astoria hoped he didn't catch anybody he would have to turn in to the Carrows or Snape. Her Patronus also doubled as a huge light source, so perhaps any foolish students would see Draco coming and learn their lesson the easy way.

Astoria confirmed that Draco was still alive and well at breakfast and then went back to sleep until lunchtime. Charms was at 2:15. Tired but determined not to skip classes taught by the real teachers, Astoria hiked upstairs to start her day. That is to say, she tried. She quickly discovered the importance of sticking together in the castle as a certain opportunist ambushed her before she could get any food in her stomach.

"Nuh-uh. This way," said Amycus, emerging from a corridor.

Astoria wasn't so shocked that he hexed her legs to walk where he wanted, but she was shocked that he was choosing to miss lunch after his ever so tiring morning of beating up children. This was a cleverer move than Astoria would have expected from Amycus; his nieces would think she was sleeping through lunch and wouldn't investigate. Amycus hexed Astoria along to the D.A.D.A. classroom without even the poltergeist noticing.

"Where's Alecto?" Astoria ventured, preferring, at the very least, the familiarity of her to the uncertainty of Amycus.

"Eatin' what's left of my picnic pie, I'd imagine. Why, you want me to get her, too?" Amycus jeered, twisting Astoria's ankle with the hex.

Astoria's response didn't matter. They were already walking into his office. He shut and locked the door and marionetted her limbs into a sitting position on the single wooden chair opposite his desk. The hex expired soon after; Amycus did not replace it, so Astoria sat still and did nothing to encourage him to.

Where Snape had once done the whole place up with artfully grim décor, Amycus had not bothered. Simply because of how plain it was, the office itself gave no outward impression of evil. However, it was not exactly pleasant. The wall behind the desk held an expensive frame displaying a large document. The double-headed eagle in the Durmstrang crest still threw its wings to the wind over words long since rescinded:-

DURMSTRANG INSTITUTE

Headmistress: Torbjørg Arshad (Charms Master, Distinguished Polymath Crone)

This letter hereby declares that Amycus Carrow has been accepted to the Durmstrang Institute. Enclosed is a waiver of liability that must be signed and returned no later than 20 June in order to undergo the Memory Modifying Charm with regards to the Institute's location…

Astoria left Durmstrang and came back to Hogwarts. Amycus had trays for parchment on either side of his desk, in between which was a black and silver placard that read, "Amycus Carrow, Deputy Headmaster." A trio of dip pens made of bone sat in a holder behind it. There was a small, framed picture placed at one corner of his desk at the angle of a perfect isosceles triangle. Astoria craned slightly forward to see, and the photograph took her backward into another world.

Alecto, more than a decade younger, was perched on a sky-blue garden bench, radiating a smile she couldn't make now if her life depended on it. Her Dark Mark was a warm, faint pink — dormant, out of mind, allowing her to brush aside her unconvicted crimes in the First War. One of the girls — it must have been Flora — was at Alecto's legs, practically hopping upwards to get her attention. The back of her head had soft, wispy hair, and she could not have been older than three. Her chubby hands waved a pair of picked, sunny dandelions upward. Alecto eyed the camera with a smirk, reached down to Flora's level with effort, and acted like there was no greater gift in the world than dandelions. A short distance behind was a moment Amycus had not intended to capture in his camera: the girls' father laughed at Hestia whilst she dug messily through the dirt. Hestia tossed a flobberworm she found into the air for her dad to catch. Presumably to yell at her for getting dirty, Alecto turned toward Hestia. Astoria watched the scene replay in quiet shock.

What happened?

Astoria also questioned Amycus's choice to keep this photograph out. The picture was, in her opinion, ridiculing the family's current dynamic. Having the photograph on his desk meant nothing if he wouldn't make any effort to repair the damage done in the interim.

Today's Amycus was nearly ready to spew something at Astoria, but he became distracted by the unevenness of his parchment trays. There was nothing but the sound of his wheezy respiration for a minute whilst he rearranged his entire desk to be, as far as Astoria could tell, exactly how it was before.

Amycus finally contended his way into the studded leather seat behind the desk, but his face pinched up. He reached beneath himself and recovered a single hair grip from the person who had helped him move in what few items he had brought. He grumbled and put it carefully on his desk, evidently not realising how expendable such an accessory was.

"We didn't think you'd come to school," he said, eyeing Astoria closely.

She looked down to her feet.

"We thought you'd abandon our girls. Then we'd have to go out looking. Scare you up, put you in Azkaban. But you're here. Sinistra must think it's dangerous for you either way, right? That you're better off in here than out there? Plus, she's got that teacher money to make. All that effort to run off from Alecto, and Sinistra threw you under the same roof again," he mocked.

Astoria studied her socks.

"Show me your arm."

Astoria complied, expecting him to shatter its bones again. He told her to turn it palm-up. He told her to make a circular motion with it. He told her to flap her hand. All this she did. Perhaps, she thought, he would break it permanently after this examination.

"Who fixed you?" he interrogated. "It wasn't Poppy."

For as dim as he was, or rather, pretended to be, Amycus knew that it had taken something darker to fix her arm so quickly, and that that magic would live in her body longer than anything Madam Pomfrey was willing to use.

"Don't talk much, eh? Funny. Alecto says you gave her lip. Look at me, Greengrass."

Astoria lifted her eyes to his stubbled chin and watched his shoulders lean forward.

"Show me that book you got in your bag."

Astoria didn't have many to pick from. She knew which one she was talking about. It was somehow embarrassing that she could hardly lift it. If she were stronger, she might not be sitting here right now. She hoisted it onto her lap.

"Blood Magick. Interesting pick," Amycus said, his beady eyes wider than usual. "Not too many folks use blood magic, Greengrass, not even Dark wizards. Not too many things where you can use blood magic for good."

Astoria waited, thinking she'd have to hand the book over so he could pick something out of it to cast upon her. Then again, he wouldn't be able to read the old language. She had trouble comprehending it herself.

"We know a gang who's right into blood magic. Lestranges. Your loverboy lives with 'em. Did you know that? All three. If you sleep with Malfoy, you should count on getting close with them. That reminds me… Two of 'em read minds. You can tell which two 'cause the both of 'em went mad," Amycus smiled darkly.

Astoria swallowed, but her mouth was too dry. Amycus was leading the conversation, and he let it pause. He repaired a small chip in the wood of his desk that had been tormenting his periphery. Whilst he was occupied, Astoria slid the book back in her bag. Amycus looked back up at her.

"Alecto tells me you saw her boggart."

Astoria found the floor again.

"No, no. Look at me."

Astoria tried to see his eyes as a shape, not a place.

"She tells me when you get in front of a boggart, it goes invisible. So what, you got no fears?" he grunted. "Not even after Stretton's group killed your family? You must be a heartless little shitehawk. No fear, no care. One of them dead Greengrasses oughtta show up as your boggart."

Astoria's fingers hurt in her fists.

"What I fear is deception," she admitted.

"Deception! Y'poor thing! Got upset your parents lied to you about Father Christmas?" he asked in acidic mirth.

Amycus laughed at his own joke some more, but when he calmed down, he studied her with hatred. He started cracking his knuckles, a nasty noise in a quiet room.

"Now," he said, "ignorance is supposed to be bliss. Your greatest fear's ignorance. Now that, Greengrass, is real thought-provoking… That ain't no ordinary boggart."

His tone worsened.

"Mine ain't ordinary, either. I'm inclined to run towards it, not away from it, see. Know what my boggart is?"

"No, sir."

"You do."

"I'm sorry, s-sir, I don't."

"You do. Because in a way, you saw my boggart, Greengrass. It looks exactly like my sister seeing her boggart," Amycus rumbled. "My greatest fear, it's Alecto terrified and alone."

He cracked one of his knuckles too hard and shook his hand.

"So, what'd you make of it?"

"M-Make of…?" she stammered.

"Alecto's boggart."

"I didn't make anything of it…"

"You didn't make anything of it," Amycus repeated slowly, disbelievingly.

Astoria became chillingly aware of how Amycus managed to earn a Sorting of Slytherin when he came here. He was not one for maths, but oh, was he calculating in another sense.

"You made that boggart manifest," he snarled, twisting his pens in their holders. "Alecto told me you got rid of the boggart on her behalf, that she got through to you. It's like she's forgotten your nature, Greengrass. You made that boggart, and you tricked her into walking in there. That whole middle-of-the-night thing was part of your plan."

"No," Astoria gasped, though she doubted her defences could help her. "No, I didn't — I wouldn't — I didn't do that on purpose."

"Look at me, Greengrass."

She couldn't, not even when she heard him stand up and saw his shadow approach her. In her field of vision, shirt became collar, collar became neck, neck became jaw, and she shut her eyes. At first, only his breath was on her face. Once his hands were, too, she reached for her wand despite all warnings that fighting will make it worse. His curse would hit first, surely, so she would have to account for a moment of recovery in her retaliation…

Or not?

Amycus took Alecto's lost hair grip to a loose curl, pinned it perfectly behind Astoria's ear, and withdrew. She opened her eyes when his breath was gone. He stood with one hand on the side of his desk, his back to her.

"A Legilimens," his voice grated. "I knew it. You looked my sister dead in the eyes with your fancy trick, and you still left her. No — scratch that — you fucking ran."

Amycus's shoulders lurched. He still didn't turn round. Instead, he shook his head at the floor.

"I oughtta kill you."

In terrified silence, Astoria lifted herself from the seat and started inching towards the door.

"GO THEN, GET OUT, GO!" Amycus screamed, Bombarding the door open and sending more of the same at all of his walls, damaging them in his outburst.

Astoria ran longer than she had breath for. Somehow, though shaking, she managed to report to Charms and not draw attention to the stray, intermittent tears that fell. Yet by Transfiguration, her focus had dulled to nothing, and she once again cursed whoever had decided that part of a licensed astronomer's job description should include this N.E.W.T.

On her way back, she headed for the library to return the leaden book on blood magic, which had become as heavy as her heart since the trip to Amycus's office. She stood outside to write her initials in the return record, and she figured she'd flip through it one more time before turning it in. Her eyes landed on a brief passage above a rather grisly illustration of a man's body contorting beyond its limitations.

The blood of a witch or wizard shall rend the body thus

when drawn from the vein by wand under the incantation

Ceargealdot steorran ríed

Unlybban spiwe blðdþigen.

It is hereby declared that this spell is reserved for an unrighteous soul.

Based on the illustration, it didn't look like there'd be much hope for anybody who took that kind of hit. Astoria closed the book, lugged it back into the library, and hoisted it onto the return rack. Madam Pince scowled at Astoria when the book slipped from her fingers and hit the rack with a loud thud. Astoria bit her lip and gently placed her other rentals on the rack. She hurried back to the Restricted Section to find something not quite as deep as blood magic, but worse than a human-to-slug transfiguration.

The Restricted Section had more people in it than usual, most of them Slytherins. Astoria felt like being there made her look bad, especially considering the meltdown she had had the day before. Still, she got to business squinting at the titles on old bindings. Many of them were still unrelated to what she sought, such as Banshee's Breath and Other Ethereal Essences for Poisonmaking and How to Become a Hag. Astoria rolled a ladder over to search the upper shelves and got somewhat distracted by the nice view of the library. She was watching the tops of people's heads, and vaguely wondering when Professor Sinistra would let her have the fourth volume of Legilimency in Practice back so she could finish it. She spotted Pansy Parkinson and Diane Carter in the next row over and found herself in a perfect position to eavesdrop.

"Oh, remember this book, Pansy? We used one of the jinxes in here on Hermione."

"Oh. Hermione…?"

"Hermione Granger," Diane laughed. "Is there another Hermione here? What a stupid name."

"Oh. I don't remember her," said Parkinson strangely.

"Haha, yeah, maybe I'll forget her too since she's gone. I hope she's in Azkaban."

"If she's a Mudblood, she'll probably end up there," Parkinson responded.

"Er, well, she is a Mudblood. You've got to remember her! The Gryffindor girl with Harry Potter."

"Hm, no, not particularly."

"Oh, Pansy, you're trying to fool me. Your least favourite Mudblood in the whole school. We jinxed her."

"I've jinxed a lot of people, Diane."

"I'm starting to think you're the one who's been jinxed. You knew that bucktoothed nerd for six whole years!"

"I don't pay much attention to Mudbloods. She must not have been worth my time," shrugged Parkinson.

Diane was alarmed, but she didn't push Parkinson about it anymore, likely because she didn't want to push her all the way to Madam Pomfrey to be evaluated for a Memory Charm. Astoria wondered if Hermione's friends had cast the charm before running off into the wilderness. She wished they would have cast a stronger one.

Astoria finally found some wonderfully interesting titles that were sure to protect her. Harnessing the Inner Crone: Dark Magic for Single Mothers by Fanetta Noll, Darkness as Element by Avernale Styx, and Sympathetic Magic for the Not-So-Sympathetic by Alyssa Poylop floated gently down as Astoria descended the ladder. She already knew what Flora thought of her pursuit of the Arts, but she hesitated more when she thought about her mother and Rhiannon. What would they say if they saw her like this? Not only that, but how much trouble would she be in if Professor Sinistra realised what she was doing?

It would be okay. Her mother had used vicious spells to protect the family in battle. Rhiannon used a Death Eater's wand for heaven's sake, and who knew what Professor Sinistra was capable of. Astoria's magic had been belittled her whole life; she wanted to be more like the people she admired, especially now that her safety was compromised. Almost as if to encourage her decisions, she found "Aurora Sinistra, 15/09/1978 – 14/10/1978" written on the borrowing card for Sympathetic Magic as she, too, signed out the book.

The next time Astoria saw Draco, she pretended her day had been normal and asked him about Parkinson's abnormal behaviour. He was puzzled by her story for a few minutes. Then he made a loud noise.

"Theodore must have… er."

"Put a Memory Charm on her?" Astoria clarified. If that was the case, Theodore was much more precise with Memory Charms than his father had been.

"It's a long story, but we had to make it so that Pansy wouldn't know about my… er, mission last year. Theodore must have taken her memories about Granger along with it. He had no way of knowing school would be like this. I guess he was into her," Draco revealed.

"That makes sense. I wish Parkinson would have forgotten more than just that," Astoria remarked.

"Memory Charms are really dangerous, so we had to be careful. I suppose Theodore and Granger were fairly cosy until his dad pointed a wand in her face at the Ministry battle."

Astoria nodded. Since Theodore and Astoria were supposed to hate each other so as not to be interrogated about Nott Sr, she hadn't talked to him. Even when Theodore helped defend Astoria from being sliced up by Imogen, he had made a case that he was acting on the "don't kill viable purebloods" order rather than their friendship. She wondered how he was taking the news of Hermione's bounty. He didn't have anyone to talk to about it besides Astoria. Draco hated Hermione, and Tracey Davis and Max Lazenby hadn't even known about Theodore's feelings. So… Nott Sr really had tried to hurt Hermione in the Department of Mysteries. How disgusting. Astoria once again thought of what would have happened if Lucius Malfoy had attacked Quennell Park.

I had to kill Xavier Lofthouse and Caleb Price... What if…?

She forced the scenario out of her mind with all of her willpower.

That night, Flora was rustling her school supplies as Astoria was trying to relax her body and mind. It wasn't that late, but on account of Astoria's self-imposed duty to protect her damsel from dementors, the ruckus seemed uncalled for, and she asked Flora what she was doing.

"I'm getting ready for Astronomy, Astoria!" she harrumphed.

Astoria remembered that she had not talked to her roommates about their schedules in great detail this year. She felt so guilty. She had no idea Flora wanted to continue to N.E.W.T. Astronomy at all; she would have congratulated her, but her chance had expired.

"I'm glad you decided to continue it," Astoria said shyly. She knew for a fact that Hestia would not pursue the class.

"It'd be stupid of me not to. Everything's astronomy," Flora said.

Hestia and Alexa shared a look of doubt, but Astoria felt happy. She didn't know Flora ever acknowledged the role of astronomical forces in everyday magic; most people didn't. Not to mention it had always been hard to tell the difference between Flora liking something and hating it.

"If you ever need anything for class, Flora…"

"Of course I'll come to you," Flora said with a small smile, and she left for the long journey upstairs.

When Astoria was brushing her hair before bedtime, she snagged something painfully, so she ran her fingers through her hair. Alecto's hair grip, which she had forgotten she was wearing, fell onto the bathroom floor. Astoria splashed her face with water.

She set her head on the pillow and shut her eyes. Her shoulders eased; the world went dark and quiet. Then with a pang, she shot up again, breathing in gasps. She had heard Alecto's voice in a hell somewhere between awake and asleep.

She grabbed her chest, as if that would tell her heart to slow. When she took a proper look round the room, she saw Hestia propped up on her elbow, looking displeased.

"I'm so sorry," Astoria snivelled. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's not that," said Hestia, and she continued to stare Astoria down.

"Bad dream," Astoria coughed because she had no better word for it.

"Must have been," said Hestia swiftly, "seeing as you called out to her."

Rattled, Astoria could not rest until Flora returned from Astronomy.

Astoria's Friday was not pleasant, since she had Transfiguration at nine sharp and both Carrows again. Alecto gave a lengthy lecture about how the Wizarding population was forced into secrecy by Muggles and why there were hindering laws banning underage magic. She said that this secrecy had further stunted the growth of already small magical communities by limiting them to "house spells," and that few learned powerful magic. She pulled out a map of the Wizarding United Kingdom and showed that there were practically no "Wizard-only" communities left.

Amycus was not as verbose as Alecto and not prone to lectures. Incredibly, he made no threat toward Astoria, but he did pull the same stunt he had on Wednesday, dragging Flora up to the front of the room and making her demonstrate harmful curses on her fellow students. This time, unfortunately, it was Luna who took the hit, and she had to be treated for the Thundering Tinnitus Curse. Astoria copied spells into her grimoire all weekend, but nothing could be done about the Knuckle Fusing Curse cast by Flora on Ginny Weasley on Monday morning. Hestia offered to secretly trade places with Flora next time they had class since Amycus kept putting her through this, but Flora refused.

"He's trying to desensitise me," Flora said. "I'm more afraid of what will happen if he tells us apart. They're smart to that trick."

The one and only thing Astoria looked forward to about this school year was her final year in Astronomy. Everything she had worked for, from the time she was told she could not go to Hogwarts onward, had come to this. She was going to give it her all regardless of Death Eaters and governmental collapse. She'd take her Astronomy N.E.W.T. in Azkaban with Voldemort as the test proctor if she had to.

Her seventh-year N.E.W.T. Astronomy class was now the smallest class held in Hogwarts. Hannah Abbott had left last year after her mother had been murdered, Hermione Granger was currently evading the same fate, and Neville Longbottom had simply discontinued it to dedicate more to Herbology. Somewhere on the globe, Adamina was probably still angry at Astoria even though she thought her dead, so Swati Pevekar and Anthony Goldstein sat quietly without their fellow Ravenclaw. Tracey and Theodore had all their supplies ready. Draco stood back up from his seat and pulled out Astoria's chair for her. Everyone was looking, but she couldn't control her smile. Draco used to kick the back of her chair when she had first come to school, back when he had a silly haircut and everything made sense.

"I am sorry to be holding lectures and making you do schoolwork with the present circumstances," Professor Sinistra started. "It's silly to be formal, as there are only six of you. I have seven in the sixth-year N.E.W.T. class. I am aware that my reputation has been damaged over the past three years by, well… more than just my dreadful homework."

Astoria looked at her reflection in the window, because if she looked at Professor Sinistra, she might get emotional. She wanted the professor to conjure three-dimensional maps and make them glow like the night sky again… She wanted her old life back so badly…

"If by any chance you had the opportunity to read my book on dementors, you already know this, but my husband, who helped start all these problems, was what we call an Occlumens. That means he can prevent people called Legilimens, like Headmaster Dumbledore, from gathering his intentions, memories, and thoughts. He deceived me as much as he deceived everyone else. Even though this is unrelated to Astronomy, I wanted to take a moment to tell you about Legilimens. Many practitioners would scoff at the way I word this, but they can basically read minds. This is traditionally considered a Dark art, though it is not necessarily so. For example, it would be a helpful feat of an Auror as well. In addition to Tom Riddle himself, there are a few Legilimens in his circle, including Rabastan Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange, and… well… the rest of them are dead, now, thank goodness."

I killed Xavier Lofthouse, Astoria thought.

Professor Sinistra Summoned a small box and took off the lid.

"I have studied the effectiveness of Legilimency on sleeping persons since I was in school. A Legilimens may easily invade one's mind overnight, even if the victim is able to use Occlumency whilst awake. As with normal Legilimency, in most cases, the caster must be in the same room as you. However, there are two practitioners who can do this remotely, Riddle and Rabastan. I have found that these trinkets have hindered their ability to target the sleeping."

The professor tilted the box she held to reveal many small nazars and hamsas, which were copies of those that cluttered her own house. Astoria was struck with a horrid realisation: the professor had been adding nonsense rooms to her house to hinder the flow of remote Legilimency. Astoria had learnt how to do the spell in person less than a year ago, and what once had made her feel powerful now felt insignificant in comparison to what Voldemort and Rabastan were doing.

"Presently, they have little interest in making the effort against Hogwarts, but it is best to be proactive. They may get desperate and assume you have information about Harry Potter. These charms may seem old-fashioned, but they are easy to use and protect locations well. Hang these in your dormitories."

Professor Sinistra gave each student a handful of assorted eye trinkets.

"Montel got a whole bunch last night and gave me some," Tracey mentioned to Theodore, who took plenty.

"Did Flora get some already?" Astoria asked Professor Sinistra.

"I gave them to her on Tuesday night. Did she not hang them up?"

"No."

"Ah, she must think she's above this level of magic. Here, take a bunch, and be sure to nag her."

"Trust me, Professor, I will," Astoria said.

Draco didn't hold his hand out, so Professor Sinistra set some in front of him. Everyone started chattering and holding up their talismans to the lights. Astoria heard her name being called by Swati.

"Yes?"

"I wanted to say I'm sorry about your family," Swati said. "Er, erm, is Asenath…?"

"Asenath survived the attack and left the country with our family. Her father and brother were killed," Astoria said carefully, but she didn't like how short and sweet she had made it sound.

Anthony, one of Daphne's exes (but not one of the many who had ended in a bad fight), was also paying close attention. However, he seemed too shy to ask, so Astoria added, "My sister Splinched her arm, but also made it out with the family."

The Ravenclaws relaxed their posture. Astoria guessed any real news about her family hadn't travelled far. Swati and Anthony likely had questions about Astoria and Draco, but decided they had better not ask. Professor Sinistra started class, and Astoria sunk into whatever enjoyment she could. After class ended and everyone else left, she noticed that Draco wasn't taking the talismans the professor had given him. Professor Sinistra noticed it, too.

"Mr Malfoy, please take the amulets, even if you don't hang them."

"Theodore and I are in the same room, and he has some. I also had to sleep in the same house as Rabastan and figured out, you know, how not to die," Draco responded. "Save them for someone else who needs them."

"My container refills itself, so there is no shortage," Professor Sinistra said. "I'll have you know that Rabastan simply got bored with you. He could crack you in your sleep if he felt the need."

"Professor, look, I've got Occlumency and defensive magic under control."

"Draco Malfoy, quit trying to act tough in front of Astoria, and take a damn hamsa! You're seventeen."

Draco scowled and stuffed one in his pocket.

"It can't hurt," Astoria said to him, and thanked the professor.

On the way down the spiral staircase, Draco once again tried to persuade Astoria to get some sleep instead of setting her alarm to cast a Patronus. He claimed that he had the situation under control and that she was only making an already horrible year even worse for herself. He noted it would be midnight by the time they even got to the common room.

"It makes me feel better, Draco. If I can do something, I will. You said that to me."

Draco shook his head.

"You're the most stubborn person I know," he said.

"Haven't you looked in a mirror before?" she returned, and Draco chased her down the rest of the hall over that comment.

As difficult as it was, Astoria developed something of a routine over the next few weeks and did her best to stay out of trouble. One sunny Friday morning, when she was at breakfast, she smelt smoke. She quickly scanned the area for any source of danger, remembering the time the Great Hall had been filled with the Weasleys' exploding fireworks and Catherine wheels. All of the smoke this time, though, came down to one red envelope. Professor Sinistra had received a Howler without any chance to react. It was from Rabastan Lestrange, and it said things that would wrench Astoria's stomach for years to come.