Book 4: Astoria Greengrass and the Curse of Quennell Park
Song rec: "Run" by Daughter
Astoria pressed her back to the scratchy stone wall, barely out of reach, and inched her body under a heavy tapestry hung in the corridor. The Carrows were only a few broomlengths away from her, standing in a perpendicular hall. They were in a rocky conversation with Theodore and Draco.
"I want you to tell me what happened, Nott — without your input, Malfoy," crowed Alecto.
"Draco found the boathouse door damaged," Theodore started, and Astoria erupted in goose pimples. "The curse over it was broken, dripping all over the floor. I'd know that roundabout magic anywhere — it's that Greengrass girl. He was going to report it to Snape, but he told me first since I'm in his dorm. Well, I'm not wasting any time about this. I know who it was, and I'm putting her in detention."
Astoria was infuriated with Theodore for mere seconds and then remembered that he was trying to trick the Carrows into thinking his dad was truly missing because of her. He must have had something planned. Astoria leaned her head against the wall and breathed shallowly.
"She was only trying to practise her Patronus on a real dementor — I have her Patronus right here!" Draco interjected.
"WITHOUT YOUR INPUT, MALFOY!" Amycus echoed his sister.
"Anyway," said Theodore confidently, "Draco and I have been at a standstill trying to figure out whose jurisdiction this lies under. I'd like to think it's mine. I'm Head Boy, after all. But Draco thinks that since he has one of the Dark Lord's spare Marks on his arm…"
The Carrows laughed at Draco's expense. Alecto's sugar-soiled voice said, "Trying to save your girlfriend, Malfoy? She's pretty stupid to pull something like that. Do you even know where she is?"
Amycus chortled, "Well, now, if the dementors Kissed her and she fell in the lake, I figure the body'd drown, eh?"
"Her Patronus wouldn't be here if she was Kissed, Amycus," Alecto said irritably.
"Was a joke, Alliecat."
Alecto narrowed her eyes and broke into a smile, "I never know with you, do I?"
"I take offense at that, so I do," Amycus stuck up for his own intelligence.
"I'm of mind to find Greengrass," Theodore piped up. "I'm of mind to put her in detention until Christmas. I'd like to know once and for all what happened to my father."
The Death Eater pair murmured to each other.
"Round her up and learn her her lesson, Nott," Amycus said. "'Bout time the little snot gets tortured anyways. Mixing our girls all up the way she does."
Alecto nodded and tutted, "You take care of Greengrass, and we'll take care of Longbottom. Seems he dragged his partner-in-crime out of the woods last night."
Neville? Neville took the blame? Is he mad?
"Yes, Ma'am," Theodore said.
The Carrows' footsteps became fainter. Farther down the next hall, a large door creaked open and slammed shut. Theodore and Draco continued their conversation with honesty this time.
"Do you think that will cover Astoria?" Draco asked.
"I think they were fooled enough by my show of anger. Of course, now I'll have to explain to Astoria that she has detention with me. I don't know how that's going to go."
"I could tell her once I figure out where she is."
"You? Oh, no, that'd be bad."
"She's my girlfriend, Theodore."
"I know — she'll kill you. I'd best do it. I have a more soothing voice."
Draco made an unforgettable noise with lots of hacking in response to Theodore's comment, which in fact only strengthened Theodore's point. What neither of them realised, though, was that she wasn't angry. They had done such an excellent job of covering the evidence she had blunderingly left behind. It was fortunate the Carrows hadn't put two and two together about Ginny.
"Well, something's wrong because she only sent her Patronus out here recently. I've been worried sick about her all night," Draco said.
"I'm right here," Astoria said quickly to stop his worrying, but she made them both jump at the sound.
Draco grabbed her once she came out of hiding and pulled her into an overly-dramatic hug. She hit her nose on his shoulder and protested his theatrics.
"Sorry. I was worried, Astoria. What happened?"
On account of the boathouse problem, she couldn't give him an "Oops, I slept through your shift and nothing remotely interesting occurred last night."
"Erm… it wasn't Neville…" she peeped.
Draco didn't get it, but Theodore gave her a toothy smile and shook his head in amazement.
"Neville must be taking the fall for Ginny and me," Astoria whispered in Draco's ear. "I'm the one who got her out of the woods."
"I didn't know she was literally in the woods," Draco said, a bit predictably.
"I don't know how the Carrows didn't realise it was me," Astoria remarked.
"Well, they're sharing a brain, so resources are slim," said Theodore. "Why'd you go on a rescue mission? To get invited back to Slughorn's parties?"
Astoria scoffed, "No, and for the record, I forewent a club activity to do detective work. Anyway, you spoke of a detention quite readily. Obviously, you found the mess I made by the door. I assume you needed them off your back, Theodore?"
Theodore shuffled and said, "They were sniffing too closely for comfort since I haven't done a thing to find out about the Dumbledore club. You provided the perfect opportunity to explain why I'm not hunting Weasley's group during free periods, so we can cover for each other this way."
"I understand."
"You might have to pretend I'm casting the Cruciatus on you, though," he noted, "if they come round."
"I'm a decent actress."
Draco soon asked her a thousand questions about her overnight excursion, his voice often tinged with judgement and censure. How could you take that risk, things like that. He was getting as bad as her mother. Flora, Hestia, and Alexa were relieved to see her at breakfast but knew better than to ask anything there. They followed Astoria to the dorm and started popping off questions through the crack in the bathroom door whilst she showered off the woods. Astoria needed a way to get the girls off her case.
"Well, Draco and I were sneaking round pretty late…" she started, and they all scurried off, not wanting to hear any more. They never would find out about the Ginny fiasco.
After acting out several confrontations, Astoria met Theodore for "detention" the next day. He had picked the rarely-used Alchemy classroom because he enjoyed the artwork and diagrams hung in there. He drew up their chairs and locked the door with his wand. Astoria checked her Foe-Shard. She would have it visible the whole time, and if she saw anyone appear, they had their fake Cruciatus all planned out. Astoria would get down on the floor, writhe, and make crocodile tears whilst Theodore would hold his wand out. As far as Nott Sr, Theodore was going to transition from saying "I don't know" to "my poor old father was likely killed in the explosion" during future questioning from the Carrows.
Astoria was so glad to talk to her friend again. It had been the hardest to fake their animosity in Astronomy, which was a small class. She bemoaned that Theodore had compulsively whittled more of his wand with his fingernails, telling him he'd get to the core soon if he didn't stop.
"Professor Babbling is actually making me a handle, and she's going to affix it when it's finished. That's where most of the damage is," he said.
"I didn't think you had her for class," she recalled.
"I don't; she just saw what I'd done and got on my case, much as you're doing now."
Astoria then asked, "Well, how is your Astronomy project with Tracey coming?"
"Oh, I'm an insufferable bastard," Theodore laughed. "We have to do all of our projects separately and then Meld the parchment together when we're done. What do you and Draco do? Snog on top of the assignment until the words appear magically?"
"Yeah, it usually works well," Astoria nodded.
They played eight rounds of hangman, in which Theodore deliberately picked words she wouldn't know, until their time was up.
"That was the worst detention I've ever had," she joked.
They were able to keep up an extremely convincing act that distracted the Carrows from the obvious. Since they met up every day, the detentions wouldn't need to be until Christmas. The Carrows claimed Theodore had more important things to do. Astoria, though, was especially glad that she was still able to see him on Hallowe'en. That morning, Professor Sinistra had received three Howlers from Rabastan Lestrange, but she was only able to curse one of them shut before the other two exploded with harassing messages that rang out at the staff table.
Though nothing would beat hearing Rabastan's Howlers, Astoria also had a worse-than-usual experience in Alecto's Muggle Studies. Alecto had filled the room with real Muggle Hallowe'en decorations portraying witches as green-faced, ugly old women, often boiling human bones in their cauldrons. She also had plastic packages tacked to the walls of countless "sexy witch" costumes, and made them read nasty screenplays of Muggle horror films. Astoria knew that Alecto's goal was to distribute propaganda, but those things had all been real items, and Astoria still had the reading on gender roles in Muggle society rattling her head. Since there was nothing to be discussed about Muggle Studies in her own dormitory lest Hestia throw a hissy, she brought it up to Theodore.
"How much of Muggle Studies do you think is, you know, true?" Astoria whispered, as though if the words came out of her mouth too loudly, Voldemort would walk through the door and give her the Dark Mark for a job well done.
Theodore's bright blues rolled upwards into his heavy hair. He appeared to be calculating.
"I would say thirty-two percent of it is true in some way, sixty-eight percent is outright lies, and zero percent of it has the right context," he said with unneeded specificity.
"I feel like I'm a terrible person when the thirty-two percent catches my attention."
Theodore cleared his throat, "I mean, I understand why you're really hung up on the environment and gender issues and things like that. That doesn't make you terrible. Muggles really do pollute — and no, I don't mean blood pollution. I mean rivers and air and habitats."
"Exactly! See, I can't talk about these things in the dorm or Hestia will cry and say Alecto's words are working on me."
"Well, the problem is Alecto is using ecofascism to try to convince you. Like, oh, we are an environmentally cleaner society, so we should have control over the other society. She's starting soft with Muggles so that she can move into Muggle-borns. And from there, you're no different from a Death Eater. So don't fall for anything she says."
"No! I don't, Theodore, but I keep thinking of how Rhiannon was brought up. I can say this since she's not here anymore, but her own dad tried to kill her. And I start thinking how Muggle parents treat magical children…"
"Don't you wonder how many Squibs are murdered by their parents? All throughout history? And that goes unreported," Theodore countered, and Astoria bit her tongue.
He added, "I'm not trying to fight you like Hestia. I'm trying to contextualise."
"I know."
"On the other hand, I would say you'd be foolish to marry a Muggle man. He'd never lift a finger at all whilst you cast spells over the whole house, day in and day out. A Muggle man would view your magic as luxurious or even servile, I think," Theodore mused.
"Yeah. The only thing we'd have in common would be that neither of us could get into Hogwarts at eleven," Astoria groaned. "Still, I don't want to end up like one of those 'I'm not racist, but…' people. I think if I had not begun practising Legilimency, I wouldn't be having these thoughts right now. Muggles practically project their thoughts into the air."
"Do you really think their thoughts are any different from ours?" Theodore challenged. "They aren't! The only difference is you pick up on them more easily because they have no magic. I am surprised Alecto's been getting to you, Astoria. Who knew that all it would take for you to be a Death Eater would be to mention light pollution."
"Oh, be quiet," Astoria said.
Her talk with Theodore helped somewhat, but during the next Muggle Studies class, a terrible reading was dropped on her. It wasn't the usual list of Muggle-borne diseases, coral reef destruction reports, or eugenicist nonsense, but an excerpt from a book written by the notorious reporter Rita Skeeter. Alecto wanted to show the students that their fallen hero and former headmaster was, as she put it, "once on our side." Astoria's grip on the day's readings was enough to crumple the paper. Apparently, Dumbledore had once been closely associated with Grindelwald's anti-Muggle movement. There were real records of their writings on overthrowing and subjugating Muggle society "for the greater good," and their words about being able to use magic freely amounted to far more than daydreams. In one of the handful of love notes Alecto made them read, Astoria's attention made rounds on a particular comment of Dumbledore's:-
"…[W]here we meet resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary and no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang! But I do not complain, because if you had not been expelled we would never have met.)"
Astoria's hair stood on end, and she looked at Alecto, who was already staring at her. Alecto was quite fascinated with this letter, for not only was it penned to her family's former leader, but it also discussed his expulsion from Durmstrang, her former school. It appeared that Grindelwald had been expelled for using violence.
For as much as Astoria knew about Grindelwald's mother, the author of her Legilimency books, she did not know much about the warlock himself. She pieced a few things together in her own little world whilst Alecto started prattling to the class. The Seer-Legilimens Gwendela Bagshot had studied abroad at Durmstrang, where she apparently met her husband and settled down, having Gellert. Her Inner Eye revealed to her that he would one day lead a reign of terror, throwing her into despair and depression. Gellert went on to be expelled from the same school his mother had been welcomed at, which was saying something, since they used Dark magic there. And apparently, Albus Dumbledore of all people had excused the action, saw past every warning sign, and actually believed deep down that blood purity was a cause worth fighting for. Astoria thought about how her Legilimency textbooks had been passed from Gwendela to Grindelwald, Grindelwald to Dumbledore, and Dumbledore to Professor Sinistra.
And Professor Sinistra to her.
Astoria's eyes glossed as she looked at the scar in the palm of her hand. Dark magic was something passed from one user to the next, Flora had said, like a disease.
Alecto held Astoria back as students filed out of the classroom. Was all it took a weightless hand on her shoulder? No, it was her eyes. It had always been her eyes that kept her. Astoria stifled the magic of Legilimency because she had to. Alecto wanted to pull it in.
"Hold still, Astoria."
Alecto licked her thumb and rubbed it hard into the soft of Astoria's cheek. Astoria did not at first know why.
"You got ink on your face."
Alecto's bad breath was in the spit on her thumb. The ink had been cleaner than this. Astoria had one eye shut as Alecto wiped the smudge to nothing. The ink on Astoria's face had come from her clumsy hand, which Alecto lifted, too. It was Astoria's own fault, was it not, for she had been taking notes in such a lie-filled class… Notes on how someone as gentle and pure as old Dumbledore had been so shadowy all along. Was it a way to make herself feel better for using Dark magic…?
Alecto conjured a cloth and wet it, thankfully with water instead of spit, and began to wipe Astoria's palm and fingers clean. Astoria could have dared to escape this activity, could have run to catch up with the deeply concerned Flora and Hestia, but she remained in place. Alecto saw the old Dark sigil upon Astoria's palm in her attentive cleaning.
"It's okay," cooed Alecto quietly, not knowing how or why the sigil got there. "You're doing so well. Amycus is making a strong witch of you. He tells me you're his best note-taker."
I am?
"I like when you listen to us."
I don't.
Happy to have had the contact, Alecto gently squeezed Astoria's palm, free of ink but forever marked with magic. Her red lips curved.
"All clean."
Astoria and Flora spent that evening in the library reading the kind of texts they did not want to write their names on for rental. Astoria copied spells into her grimoire with much the same sentiment as a jilted lover rereads old letters.
"Where are the other two?" asked Astoria.
"What, you can't be surprised that they haven't joined us in this pursuit," Flora said sarcastically.
"Flora."
"Well, Alexa's probably with Montel and Horatio. Hestia had to prep more venoms for Knockturn, since, as you can imagine, Tweedledee and Tweedledum already spent this term's wages."
"Ah. She should be done by now, though."
"I would hope," said Flora, still annotating curses. "I hope those two go alone to Knockturn, because when they take Hestia in the summer, she always comes back with another bloody Talking Sundew."
"Well, we don't want one of those in the dorm," recognised Astoria. "I'll go see if she is there."
When Astoria entered the dormitory, she saw Hestia leaning over the running tap, and her long hair obscured her face.
"Hello, Hestia."
Hestia waved without looking up and spit in the sink. Was she brushing her teeth? It wasn't anywhere near bedtime. Wait. The sink was red.
"Hestia!"
"'S fine. 'M fine."
Hestia was not fine. Astoria stepped into the bathroom, and since Hestia's face was still obscured by her hair, she looked at her condition in the mirror. There were deep abrasions on the lower half of her face, and the sources of the blood were her scraped lips, mouth, and tongue. With her head bowed, Hestia fumbled through the drawers of the vanity to grab something.
"What is it? Which potion?" Astoria asked urgently.
"Yellow," said Hestia through her swollen mouth, and Astoria found the bottle and gave it to her.
Hestia unscrewed the cap and started swishing her mouth with it. She stood back up and looked at Astoria as one cheek puffed out with the rinse, then the other. She looked so relaxed about the whole thing, which Astoria couldn't understand. What was the point of learning the Arts if she couldn't be there to stop this from happening to her friends? Hestia had clearly had her face and the inside of her mouth Scoured. The identities of the culprits were obvious. She rinsed and spit several times, after which she squatted, reached into the depths of their drawers, and retrieved another potion. It did not smell good, but she dipped a gauze cloth in it and held it against her face.
"We'll go to Madam Pomfrey," Astoria said as Hestia scooted past her, but to her displeasure, Hestia merely flopped sideways onto her bed.
"Pomfrey ain' goin' t'do anythin' I din' already do," Hestia said through her injured mouth. It had to sting.
"Are you certain?" Astoria challenged. "What happened?"
Hestia let out an acerbic laugh, "Mm… well… I mighta made a remark."
"If you won't go to Pomfrey, I should at least get Flora."
"Nn, don' get Flora," groaned Hestia.
Astoria crossed her arms and watched Hestia continue to pat her face with the cloth.
"Do you want me to cast a Numbing Spell?"
"If y'do, I won' be able t'talk," Hestia said, but she was barely able to talk anyway. "I numbed the ou'side already."
There was no point in standing if Hestia wasn't going to go anywhere, and Astoria wasn't going to leave her. She slid her shoes and outer robe off and lay on the bed. There was nothing to be done. Astoria read a normal book for once, her Arithmancy textbook. They were studying the fourth dimension, which made entirely no sense. Astoria tried to read the words anyway, even though nothing was clicking. Every so often, Hestia would put her wand in front of her mouth, cast something, and spit in the sink again. She must have been up and down ten times throughout the hour. Sometimes she changed which potion she took. It seemed Flora and Alexa would not be back anytime soon.
"I feel better," Hestia finally announced.
"You sound better."
Hestia patted her lips.
"We always got a scrubbing when we came home for summer. You know, to wash the Mud off."
"I'm sorry, Hestia. I didn't know that," said Astoria clumsily. She sat up to face Hestia properly and set the dry textbook down.
"You didn't know 'cause we didn't say," shrugged Hestia. "First few days of summer were always the same. And in general, it was hard to know what was and wasn't allowed. They changed their minds often — never in our favour. And it's always about how grateful we ought to be. They should be grateful for us. We've been errand-runners since we got our wands. Sometimes we'd stay out, you know, go have fun in the Alley without them breathing down our necks. 'You made us so worried,' they'd say. I thought, yeah, they're 'worried' we'd gone to the Ministry and reported them! Well, we never had any evidence of what they'd consider reportable. Plus there was Dad. We didn't want Dad to be arrested along with them for neglect or whatever. They'd send him out for the bigger Knockturn deals so their track record was clean… We were so afraid they'd arrest Dad and leave them."
Astoria nodded, her concern probably all over her face.
"To tell you the truth, we didn't get beaten much at all. It was more about control, confinement. But the times they beat us were just horrible, and Flora would always try to take the brunt of it, but they didn't like to hurt Flora as much as they liked to hurt me. I dunno, it's weird. Sometimes I think it's because they know Flora's caught up on Dark magic, or because she 'behaves' more to their liking. Other times I just don't know."
Hestia gently rubbed one of her pillows with her hand.
"You know… every time I turn round and Rhiannon's not here, I feel it under my skin," she said.
"You're right. Everywhere I go, I feel like she ought to be standing there, shaking a newspaper at me or wiping chocolate from the corner of her mouth," Astoria said warmly.
Hestia sighed, "Remember when I had a meltdown on your bed once Rhi started dating Asenath?"
"How could I forget?" Astoria joked.
Hestia wasn't in the mood to joke, which made sense given the state of her face.
"Well, I said that you didn't understand how I loved Rhiannon. I said I loved her all along, from the time I saw her. You said something to the effect of, 'you fancy her' and I was like 'no, no, I LOVE her.'"
Hestia had always been a bit clingy when it came to Rhiannon, so Astoria could only imagine what the distance and uncertainty were doing to her.
"What I'm trying to say is that there wasn't any way someone like me would have known what love was," Hestia opened up. "To me, love was like, 'wow, she talks to me.' I was trying to figure out what love was by… I dunno… process of elimination. Because where I come from, it's just someone you want to keep in your sight. And I do feel that way, I mean, I wish I could see Rhiannon now and know she's safe. But the possessiveness is not something I'm proud of. I know where that comes from, and I hate it. I don't want to be like them. Like… you don't have to be a wad of gum in someone's hair just because you love them. But that's all we know; love is the same thing as this really bad fear of losing. And then from there you're a weirdo! I don't want to be weird, you know! I want to be like... eligible! Not a codependent mess!"
"Hestia! Hestia, you're not a thing like them," Astoria simply had to interject.
"Yeah, but… it's been on my mind because now I get it. I realise what it means to love someone. I really love Rhiannon, and now she's gone."
Astoria nodded sombrely. She didn't have the same type of love for Rhiannon that Hestia did, but hearing the words "now she's gone" was tugging her heart.
"I get so angry with myself sometimes because I have all these thoughts like, 'oh, Rhi's travelling with Asenath,' 'she's probably living with Asenath,' 'I know Asenath is going to flirt with her again because that's what Asenath does,'" Hestia harrumphed.
"I understand that jealousy because we're separated from her right now, but if it makes you feel any better, Asenath severely disappointed Rhiannon. She tried to jump right to sex, for one, and she was also seeing several other girls whilst she was involved with Rhiannon. There's not going to be a rekindling of romance even if they do spend time together," Astoria said. "Asenath made her feel like side meat."
"True," said Hestia. "Well, here's the thing. Rhiannon and I said we were going to wait for each other. There's no way of knowing that's going to work. I mean, it would definitely work on my end if I can escape the Dark Mark. I don't know if she'll still be into me, though. A lot has changed already."
"I understand that, Hestia, but you and I both know it's too early to tell."
"Right. I know. At least I understand Rhiannon. Asenath had an easy life, so she can't relate to Rhiannon. Well, it's not easy for Asenath since her father passed, and I'm sorry that ever happened. But I mean, I grew up with these freaks running the house, and even though Dad loves us, he's complicit. I'll never understand why he sits back and lets us be treated this way. He never hurt us himself, but he's terrified of them. It's like since he was raised by them, he won't raise a finger to stop them. It's been ingrained in him that they're the ones in charge. They bring in the money even though it's not much. I don't know. Obviously, as you can see by my mouth, I've never been able to turn to them, but I never felt I could turn to Dad, either. He's less helpful than my houseplants! I'd still take him over Rhiannon's parents, though. I wish she never went through that. I want to give her a better life, and yet here I am with three years of black market experience and a bad last name. I can't support a wife with Knockturn income."
"Well, Hestia, maybe…" Astoria started, but before she even said the rest, her mood sank. "Maybe the war won't turn out that way."
Hestia furrowed her brow and dabbed more medicine on her mouth because she had almost said, "yeah, right."
Astoria rolled back and forth on the floor, pretending to be under the Cruciatus Curse, during her last detention with Theodore. She had spotted Amycus in the Foe-Shard and promptly started screaming fake pain at the top of her lungs whilst Theodore held his wand out, casting nothing.
"He's gone," she said, and Theodore conjured her some water.
"Well, that's the last time we'll have to do that," he said.
Astoria tidied her uniform and got back in her seat. It was also the last time they would be able to spend time with each other without raising alarm to their charade. Amycus would likely pick her to get pummelled by Flora in class more often now that her detention sentence wasn't taking care of her torture. The most often victims were Ginny, Luna, and Montel, but Imogen Stretton and Olivia Shardlow had never once been hit by a curse. Hestia was, thus far, exempt from Flora, but not from Amycus himself. Little did Amycus know, Astoria had taken every curse he forced Flora to cast into her grimoire notes, rich with mental images of him being the victim. Astoria had been a very, very good student.
"Time's up," Theodore said. "Now we're mortal enemies."
When they exited the classroom, they found Draco outside, leaning his back against the wall with his arms crossed and his wand out. It was funny to see him in that pose without Crabbe and Goyle flanking him.
"You look ready to ambush me. You know the curse was fake," Theodore said, elbowing him.
They shoved each other back and forth a couple of times without ill will. Theodore ruffled his mop-top hair back in place and disappeared down the corridor. Theodore seemed fine. Draco was not.
"I wanted to talk to you," Draco said.
Since they did talk multiple times every day, Astoria knew that the occasion was serious and asked him what was wrong. He hinted to go back to the classroom, and he shut the door behind him, casting more spells on it than they did for the Astronomy library. Then he cast the Imperturbable Charm on the room and removed his outer robe.
"Is your Mark burning?" she asked quietly.
Her quiet volume wasn't necessary on account of the charm, but it didn't seem like something that could be said at a normal volume anyway.
"No, it's not," Draco said. "How's your hand?"
The scar on Astoria's hand didn't do anything except attract Alecto. It was an artistic remnant of dead magic. The injuries on her face lately were more concerning to her; Hestia had taught her how to hide them with foundation.
"You think I haven't seen your hand, Astoria?"
"Well, it's not that noticeable."
"I notice everything about you."
Draco sat on top of the teacher's desk. It could not have been clearer that something was on his mind, but as always, it evaded Astoria's capabilities. He tilted his head at one of the desks, indicating that whatever news he had would best be received sitting down.
Astoria didn't like the feeling of having a desk between them, so in spite of her manners, she joined him on top of the desk. He gave her a bittersweet smile and blinked his sky-grey eyes quickly.
"Bellatrix started writing Alecto," he could barely choke out.
Draco's choice of words did not elucidate the situation; of course Death Eaters would be in contact with one another.
"They've both concluded that the students are getting it too easy. Every so often, someone gets the Cruciatus, but it's going to be happening more. Now Bellatrix wants students trained to do it to see who's really got it in them. Alecto has been using Muggle Studies performance to draw up a list. They're trying to make more Death Eaters."
Astoria's shoulders tensed.
"You've come to tell me I'm being blacklisted, and we have to break up or something?"
All the lines on Draco's face sharpened.
"No."
"Ah, you've come to tell me I'm whitelisted, and I have to swear my firstborn to the cause."
"Astoria," Draco said sternly in response to her dark sense of humour.
"Let's spit it out, then, Draco."
"I don't know how Alecto is going to categorise you. You're with me, which should be worth something, but she also knows the details of your history with Rhiannon Clarke. I wanted to talk to you about the Cruciatus Curse. I… I hope this is not the case, but… God, I don't even want to say it," he struggled.
"I know about the curse. I've written reports. I know that if you're under it long enough, you'll get permanent dissociative amnesia — I know about Neville's parents. I know you have to be sadistic to cast it effectively, otherwise it will feel like a punch to the gut. I know it all."
"No. You don't know it all," Draco said softly. "Please listen."
He took both her hands.
"You can cast it for a long time without being a monster. If it's between making someone else hurt and losing your own life, most everyone, including myself, does the former. Astoria…"
Draco slowly opened her palms and kissed the burn scar in her hand. He buried his face, and his blond hair fell into his eyes. Astoria brushed it out of the way and held him under the arm to steel him.
"You're afraid you'll be ordered to cast it on me. I know that, Draco."
"I'd refuse, Astoria…" he cried. "Even if I was Imperiused, I'd fight it, I swear…"
"Draco, listen, if it's between life and death, I'd rather you do what you're told and get it over with. You could always do what Flora does. She casts everything as lightly as possible. I could fake the extra pain and pretend I'm losing it. I would never have you refuse an order at the cost of your life."
"But I would never hurt you!" he erupted. "What do you think I am?"
He yanked her hands closer to his chest and cradled them, covering them with dripping tears that he had been holding in for longer than just today. His whole body quaked. Astoria knew his fears were justified, but she had to comfort him.
"Draco, we don't know that they'd have you cast anything on me. Don't you think they'd rather do it themselves?"
"I can't let them. I can't."
"Listen, stop this. I've made my bed a long time ago. You need to stay out of anything that goes on between me and the Carrows. I was stuck with Alecto before. I'm not yours to save. I can do this. I've been practising magic almost as Dark as theirs, really. If they find that out, they might think that's a good sign. I can really play it up, Draco. They are not going to make you cast that."
Draco howled in his throat one final time. He seemed to think he needed to get himself together for her sake, which was not true.
"Astoria, listen… Once Bellatrix and Alecto started writing… Amycus, he got involved… And I think Amycus told Rabastan you were a Legilimens," he trembled. "I don't know how that happened, but that's what's been going round… that you're a Legilimens… and I…"
"Draco," Astoria said strongly, though her insides were absolutely pulverised with fear. "Draco, this is not your burden to bear."
"How can you say that when you know?" he whispered. "You know. Don't you? When you were in my head. You know how much I love you. Astoria, you've got to know…"
Astoria freed her hands so she could touch his wet face. If it wouldn't draw more of Rabastan's attention, she wished that Draco were a Legilimens, so that he could cradle her feelings the way she had done in his head. But it wasn't a fault of his. The way she held her feelings under her tongue was her own shortcoming. It stemmed from her fear of the war, and from the fear that such a small word would cheapen the unrefined glory of it all. But she knew the feeling well.
"Draco, I love you more deeply than words alone can tell you."
She fixed the collar of his shirt and rubbed the back of his neck with her thumb. He was getting hot to the touch. He had really been worked up and terrified. She encouraged him closer, and his feet lifted a bit from the floor as he slid to face her on the desk. His shoulders fell to her touch.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for every time I made you upset. I'm sorry for everything I've done. I'm sorry for everything, Astoria."
It was a wonderful thing to hear from Draco Malfoy.
"I forgive you, Draco," she soothed, keeping his hair out of his face every time it bothered him. She admired his eyes, though they were red and wet. She admired the contrast of his white-blond hair on her fingers. She kept caressing his neck, as it was patchy and red. He was flushed with anxiety and love, and she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. He liked the cool feeling and leaned into it. Draco's lips had always been an easy shape to catch. She merely wished that she had Draco in a more peaceful environment than the Alchemy room. His school bag was in her way, the place was cold, and the desk was hard.
Astoria moved his things haphazardly and spilt them on the desk. He moved to help her, but her gaze had already been polluted from his beauty, and when she saw the fresh ink bottle and his unique, white peacock-feather quills, she halted him. She drew those two items towards her, shoving the rest of his things back into the bag and lowering it to the floor. Draco, still trying to relax, gave her a curious look. She had been thinking some curious things herself, and the space he now gave her was quite unwelcome. She drew him towards her again.
"I never wrote my lines for detention."
She barely heard herself say it, but Draco heard her clearly and froze to the spot. He was staring at her, but it was not enough — she meant to hypnotise him. She wrapped her scarred hand round the side of his waist and drew his soft jumper into her hands, making a signalling tug. Draco did not break eye contact except to pull the garment over him. She hoisted herself entirely onto the desk, sat up on her ankles, and undid his stuffy tie. She put her mouth on his now-free neck and grabbed the cuff of his sleeve. She unbuttoned it and rolled it up — there was that accursed brand burned on his skin, but Draco didn't belong to anyone but her.
He picked at his fingers with his thumb, and the muscles in his wrist tensed in waves. He was so pale that he had funny blue spiderwebs on the soft side of his arm. Astoria uncorked the ink bottle, and suddenly there was a deep scent of it. She dipped the nib of the quill in, and Draco averted his eyes from her, but by no means did he avert his free hand.
She took the nib to his wrist, watching his anxious fingers relax and curl. Rather than saying what she wanted to, she wrote the words on him slowly, to tickle him and let him feel the ink.
"Risky, don't you think?" he questioned.
"If it was going to do something to your Mark, you would have stopped me by now," she said. "There's no magic in this quill like there is in your hands."
"I don't know, Astoria…" Draco said to the floor with a shy smile. He was trying to give her a little scare. "What if touching my Mark with that quill does do something? Aren't we tempting more than fate here?"
"Don't you ever wash your arm in the shower?" she chuckled. "How is this different from soap and water?"
He breathed in deeply.
"Well, this is dirtying me."
"I want it to," Astoria said, and Draco exhaled a curse into her ear.
Astoria continued tickling him with her calligraphy, blowing on the ink to dry it as she went and making his fair hair stand on end. She was winning him already, and he couldn't even see what she was writing yet. She reached the Dark Mark and disinhibited herself, scrawling across it with a wonderful sense of graffiti and defiance. Draco's smile twisted. He was as glad as she was to see the Mark defaced and bisected by written declarations of longing. Astoria didn't stop there. She had so much to say. She covered him with prose until the ink bled heavily onto his white shirt, then back onto hers.