Author's Note: half-way through I was envisioning scenes of Elsa and Anna from Frozen.

Chapter Four – Explanations:

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class was pressingly silent as Professor Moody began his lecture. He explained the differences of the verdimillious duo and the vermillious duo and then had two boys stand up and try to demonstrate.

Astoria did not listen.

She stared straight ahead at the blackboard and wondered…she wondered. She wondered about Daphne, how she had warned her against Professor Moody. She wondered about Professor Moody and what exactly he meant. She wondered just what kind of a man Hyperion Meliflua had been.

She felt the other students staring at her. She saw out of the corner of her eye as the students in the row ahead of her shot looks over their shoulders to stare at her. She felt her book held tightly in her hand, felt the cover slip from sweat, and dug her fingernails into it to keep it from falling out of her grasp.

She wondered and wondered and wondered, mind racing to all kinds of possibilities that led to dead ends and more twisting avenues and more dead ends. Everything came crashing to a halt against that tall, hard, impenetrable wall in her mind because she just didn't know –

Finally the bell rang. Astoria swiftly gathered her things and was the first to leave through the door, feeling the other students' eyes, imagining she felt Moody's magical eye watching her through the walls. She was half-way back to the Great Hall for lunch – not thinking of eating, she only knew that after Defense class she was supposed to go back to the Great Hall – when she became aware that Sara and Melissa were hastening behind her, trying to keep up.

"Astoria – wait," said Sara's voice.

Astoria did not want to. She wanted to run. She wanted to know. She didn't want their questions – questions she didn't know the answer too.

"Wait, please," Sara's fingers closed around Astoria's wrist and gently pulled her to a stop. Astoria turned to face Sara and Melissa, heart thumping beneath her chest, and not knowing what had happened, not understanding, not knowing what it was she was suddenly feeling so upset about.

"Are you okay?" said Sara, brown eyes soft and concerned.

"I'm fine," said Astoria's lips. Why wouldn't she be fine? Nothing had happened that would make her not fine.

"That was – what was that about?"

"I don't –" Astoria's tongue twisted; her words stumbled. "I don't know."

"Do you…I mean," Sara looked uncomfortable. Her face was turning red. Melissa hovered uncertainly behind her. "Do you know Professor Moody? Did your father –"

"No," said Astoria quickly. "I don't know."

"Was that," Sara shuffled from one foot to another. "Was that something Professor Moody should have said? I mean I – didn't know your father had died – I'm sorry."

"Don't be," said Astoria automatically. "I'm fine. He – died when I was little. It doesn't matter."

"Did you – want to talk about it?" said Sara.

"No. I'm fine." Astoria wondered if she had spoken too sharply. She couldn't tell. She didn't care. She wanted to know.

Daphne. Astoria wanted to talk to Daphne. Daphne…knew something. She had warned Astoria. She had told Astoria to keep her head down in Moody's class. Moody was dangerous. Daphne knew something.

Astoria distractedly realized she was walking towards the Ravenclaw table again. Sara and Melissa were following closely behind. Then Astoria was sitting down, she was scooping something onto her plate, shoveling it into her mouth.

How's your father, Greengrass?

My father's dead.

Sorry to hear that.

He hadn't sounded sorry. He had sounded cold and emotionless, Astoria imagined triumphant.

She shut her eyes, trying to clear away the noise of the Hall, the clanking silver wear, the voices and laughter of the other students. She needed quiet, some silence so that she could think.

"Come on," said Sara almost hesitantly. "Astoria? We're going to be late for Herbology."

Astoria blinked to find her plate was empty. She wasn't aware of how much time had passed.

"Astoria?"

"Sure," she said quickly, conscious that Sara and Melissa were staring at her. Everyone was still staring at her. She looked over her shoulder to see the rest of the students were engaged in their meal, or else gathering their things to leave for class. She looked to the Staff Table but Professor Moody was nowhere in sight. She shuddered. She could feel his eye on the back of her head, always roving, always piercing; it was staring at her….

Sara and Melissa stood from the table. Astoria shook her head, trying to clear away the film of confusion that had draped itself over her mind. She stood and followed them, making an effort to appear cheerful and unconcerned.

They repotted shrieking mandrakes in double Herbology and then went back to the Great Hall for supper. Astoria did not recall speaking a word all through Herbology. Sara and Melissa, as though they sensed she wished to be left alone, had talked quietly within themselves, leaving Astoria out of it.

As soon as she got to the Great Hall she looked to the Slytherin table, trying to find her sister. Daphne was nowhere in sight. Perhaps her class had run late, perhaps it had ended early and Daphne had already eaten – the reasons didn't matter. Astoria needed to talk to Daphne.

Again Astoria wasn't hungry. Again she ate solely because there was a platter of food in front of her. It was getting late and Astoria needed to start on Professor Snape's homework from yesterday but still she dawdled, watching for her sister at the Slytherin table.

Finally Astoria was forced to conclude that Daphne was not going to show up, and left for Ravenclaw tower with Sara and Melissa. She would simply have to talk to her sister the next day, first thing.

It took her hours to fall asleep that night and, as such, overslept her alarm. Breakfast was a hurried affair – she wasn't even able to check for Daphne at Slytherin – and then Astoria rushed off to class.

By lunch the wind had been let out of her sails. This side of the day, with Professor Moody's magical eye mercifully nowhere to be seen, what he had said in class didn't seem nearly so significant. Perhaps Sara was right. Perhaps Professor Moody had just known Astoria's father. Perhaps he didn't mean anything more by asking Astoria how he was then simply wanting to know how he was.

Except Astoria's father was dead. Except Astoria's father had been a Death Eater and Professor Moody an Auror and the only time they could have possibly known each other was back in the war, when both would have been on separate sides.

At dinner Astoria caught sight of Daphne's sheet of blond hair and worked up enough courage to step forward. Daphne was deep in conversation with her friends, and it took Astoria two clears of the throat and a tap on the shoulder to finally get her sister's attention.

"McGonagall's given us enough homework you'd think we were preparing for exams – yes, what is it, Tori?" Daphne sounded impatient. Behind her Sophie Roper pursed her lips.

"Can I talk to you, Daphne?"

"Yes, Tori, what is it?"

"–Privately?"

Daphne groaned, which Astoria thought was unfair given Astoria hadn't given much a fight when Daphne had called her over the day before. Astoria felt her stomach twisting as she led Daphne out of the Hall and into a corner of the entrance hall. She wondered how on earth she was supposed to voice what she'd come to ask – not even to ask, just to talk about, just to – to say something.

"So?" said Daphne, crossing her arms.

It was not a very inviting front. Astoria pushed on, trying to gather her thoughts and ideas into something that Daphne would not simply brush off.

"Well I – I was in Defense Against the Dark Arts yesterday –" perhaps it was only Astoria's imagination or a flicker of a shadow, but she thought she saw Daphne's face darken, or maybe become a bit more somber. "And during roll call Professor Moody said something –"

"He didn't threaten you, did he?" said Daphne quickly.

Astoria stammered, "He – what? Threaten me? No. Why would he?" She felt a familiar shiver run up her spine, the same that she had felt when Professor Moody's magical eye fell on her face.

Daphne suddenly looked uncomfortable. "He – I don't know. No reason – just, I had Defense class today – but, never mind. Tell me what you were going to."

Astoria watched Daphne's face, looking for anything she could hold onto in order to discover what she was skirting around.

"It was just that Professor Moody," Astoria started again, "well he – asked about Dad."

Daphne's expression did not change. She did not look surprised, or shocked, or alarmed. "What did he say?"

"He only – asked how was our father and then I told him he was dead," said Astoria – wondering because the whole thing sounded so silly but why had Daphne thought Professor Moody might threaten her? "And then he said he was sorry."

Daphne nodded but didn't say anything. Astoria waited. She looked at her sister's face again, stared into her blue eyes and tried to make some kind of a connection.

"Daphne, what's going on?" she hadn't meant to sound so melodramatic. "What happened in Defense class with you today?"

Daphne chewed on her lower lip. Astoria could barely contain her impatience, but knew she mustn't say anything for Daphne was on the fencepost of telling Astoria or not telling her, and Astoria couldn't push too hard.

"Nothing," said Daphne finally. "Nothing really – just some – Professor Moody just had this way about him. Like maybe he'd change us all into ferrets if we stepped out of line." There was no joke in Daphne's voice. "I was just wondering if he had treated all the classes like that or just us because we're – you know – Slytherins. He seemed especially fierce toward Theo and Malfoy. And I thought that might have been because their fathers were both thought to be Death Eaters –"

"But neither of their fathers were convicted," said Astoria before she could stop herself, pieces finally starting to fall together. She suddenly felt very cold. "And our father was."

Daphne swallowed. "Astoria – I shouldn't tell you this but – Mum took me aside during the summer, and…." Daphne hesitated. "It's Moody – Professor Moody."

"What about him?" Astoria couldn't stand it. She felt her pulse racing in her neck, felt her fingers shake and clenched them tightly at her sides.

"He," Daphne started again, "well he's the Auror that caught Dad."

Astoria didn't know what she was supposed to say. There was silence for a moment as Daphne seemed to allow Astoria to absorb the information. Astoria didn't know what she was supposed to think. She didn't know how she was supposed to feel about that – towards Professor Moody.

"That's why you need to keep your head down in his class," Daphne continued. "Just don't give him any reasons not to like you."

"But I haven't given him any reason and he already doesn't like me," said Astoria, something she couldn't quite hold onto was swirling in her mind, making her dizzy. She wondered for the clenched feeling in her throat that made it difficult to speak. She looked over her shoulder, again feeling Moody's eye on the back of her head.

He wasn't there.

Of course he wasn't there.

"Well," said Daphne slowly, "hopefully he won't make anything more out of it. If he does be sure to tell me and I'll write Mum."

"Couldn't we just go to Dumbledore?" said Astoria. "I mean, isn't that not right – persecution or something?"

"Astoria," said Daphne, almost rolling her eyes. "We can't go to Dumbledore. Dumbledore hired Moody. Do you think he'd be on our side?"

Astoria chewed on her lip. She hadn't thought about that. She hadn't thought about any of it. She suddenly felt horribly enclosed, as if the walls to the entrance hall were closing in on her. She felt suddenly trapped.

But nothing had happened. Nothing was going to happen. Professor Moody wasn't going to say anything else. Astoria hadn't anything to worry about.

"But what does it all mean?" she said hesitantly. "Why would Moody still care? I mean – how was Dad even captured, anyway?" Immediately Astoria wondered if that was something she should have said. Astoria didn't know what Daphne felt about their father; they had never really talked about it much. Besides, she didn't know how much more about it Daphne knew.

Daphne frowned. "I don't know. But I've been…wondering…." Daphne's voice evaporated into the silence of the entrance hall. Astoria hesitated but for once decided perhaps she would not ask.

Suddenly the squirming feeling of nervousness she had been feeling changed into a pulsing sensation almost like anger. Astoria thought of her father, dying alone in Azkaban, thought about how she had never known him, and thought about Professor Moody – who had caught him, perhaps hurt him, perhaps dragged him to Azkaban to rot, bathing in the essence of dementors….

"Just – don't let Mum know I told you, alright?" Daphne added.

Astoria was brought abruptly back to the conversation, "Why doesn't Mum want me to know?"

Daphne looked uncomfortable again, "Well – you know – because you're…younger. Astoria, don't look like that. Mum just wants to protect you."

Protect her? Protect her from the truth? Astoria could have been saved so much trouble if she had just known this before. Perhaps she would have been somewhat prepared – not so confused. Besides, Lyra Greengrass had deemed Daphne old enough to know, had she?

"Fine," said Astoria.

"Tori, please. Just be safe, alright?"

"I will, Daphne."

"And tell me if anything happens. If Professor Moody says anything else."

"Alright."

Then Daphne did something unexpected. She pulled Astoria into a hug, something the sisters had not done for a long time.

"Alright," said Daphne over Astoria's head. Astoria noted that she came up to Daphne's nose now. Daphne hadn't grown very much over the summer. "I've got to get back to dinner."

"Alright," said Astoria.

"See you around."

"Yeah."

When Astoria climbed into bed that night, Sara, whose bed was right beside Astoria's leaned over the space between mattresses and asked for what seemed like the tenth time if Astoria was alright.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Astoria, staring up at the dark canopy of her four-poster and refusing to meet Sara's eyes, lest she be drawn into a conversation.

"I just – you've been quiet," Sara whispered so Tiffany and Aurora, whom were giggling in a corner, would not hear. Melissa was already curled up in bed with her curtains drawn. "I wanted to make sure."

"No, I'm fine," Astoria insisted, and felt the words tumble and twist until she practically had to force them off her tongue: "Thank you, though."

Sara was silent for a moment. Astoria began to think she had shaken her –

"How did your father die, Astoria?"

Astoria swallowed.

"I mean – you don't have to tell me. I'm sorry if that was too personal."

It was personal. Astoria had never told anyone how her father had died, before. It wasn't that she was ashamed – her father had been a Death Eater and he had died in prison – but that wasn't anything to be ashamed….

It just didn't seem like the kind of a thing to talk about, least of all with Sara, whom was a Muggle-born, and might not understand.

Death Eater. Her father had been a Death Eater. Death Eaters didn't like Muggle-borns. Sometimes Death Eaters killed Muggle-borns. Sara was a Muggle-born.

Astoria's father had been a Death Eater.

She wondered – for the first time she wondered – uneasily, unwillingly, just what her father had done to get himself into prison. Had it been enough to be branded with the Death Eater's sign, given a mask and the robes? Or had he – had he perhaps actually done some of the horrible things Astoria had heard of Death Eaters doing.

Had he tortured? Had he killed? Had he – murdered? Had he done so to Muggles and Muggle-borns, impure, defiling creatures whom perverted the magical way of life? Like Sara, Astoria's friend?

Astoria shut her eyes quickly as horrible, gruesome, terrifying pictures began to whirl in her head. Screaming faces, under the point of her father's wand, lifeless bodies, gleaming masks, fire leaping into the air as it had done at the campsite after the World Cup, the Dark Mark – glowing green in the air, writhing, signifying murder –

"Astoria?"

Astoria's eyes snapped open, and she felt beads of moisture left on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Astoria. I hadn't meant to…offend you, or anything –"

"No," said Astoria quickly, trying to gather herself, trying to erase pictures of lifeless bodies, tiny, thin, brown-haired, open-eyed bodies that wore Ravenclaw blue and bronze. "Don't be. I just – I don't really know if I want to talk about it."

"Oh, okay," said Sara hastily. "That's fine. That's totally fine. Sorry. If you ever want to though – you now, talk about it – I'm here, okay?"

"Okay," said Astoria, not knowing how to respond. She buried herself further under her covers, feeling cold and shivery as she had in the entrance hall, when she'd been talking with Daphne.

"Good-night, Astoria."

"Good-night, Sara."

Author's Note: Really short chapter this time. Sorry. I ran out of material that could fit into the context and couldn't take any of the other stuff I'm saving for later. I hope you enjoyed it, though. I'll be taking a temporary – very temporary – hiatus as I try to conjure up some more inspiration in-between school and what remains of a social life.

Thank you for any reviews; they're very much appreciated.

Also, I recently uploaded a one-shot about Pansy Parkinson entitled Innocents which can be found on my profile page. I'm rather proud of it and sort-of disappointed with the lack of traffic it's been receiving so I'd be oh-so-grateful if you went to check it out and left a comment.

Shameless self-promotion out of the way, thank you again for all your support. 3