Author's Note: Um…
Hello.
That was…a really long time.
I'm not sure if any of you loyal readers are still out there, but, if you are, then I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Long overdue, I know.
Chapter Six – Breaking Curfew and Other Tales of Woe:
Sunday passed in a wave of homework that needed to be caught up from spending Saturday idly. After that came another week of school. Mercifully, Professor Moody did not seem to treat Astoria any differently than the other students, and no more mention of her father was made.
Saturday rolled around at the end of the week, just as it always did. Astoria didn't know whether or not that was a good thing. Astoria again made her excuses to Sara and Melissa and met Daphne in the library, which was again empty save for the two sisters.
The met in the same aisle they had before. Astoria pulled out a newspaper at random. The date in the top corner was August, 1971. Astoria was attracted by the title of the headline article "Chaos Erupts at Diagon Alley" and in true Ravenclaw-fashion, began to read even though there wasn't much indication her father would have anything to do with it.
Early this morning the Ministry received several emergency owls concerning a riot that had broken out on the main street of Diagon Alley. The Magical Law Enforcement sent out multiple squads to regain order, finding that the disturbance was being caused by a mob of robed and masked people who appeared to be intoxicated.
No deaths but two injuries were reported amongst the chaos. Severe damage to property including smashed windows and a fire were included in the confusion. But what seems to be the most puzzling aspect of the ordeal is the fact that the MLE failed to apprehend any of the masked perpetrators, who had dissaperated as a body as soon at the MLE had shown up.
This strange happenstance leads Head of Department Bartemius Crouch to muse that, against all outward appearances, this riot may have been organized –
Astoria stopped reading and hastily laid aside the newspaper, finding her heart was pattering unusually persistently beneath her breast. She felt goose-bumps rise on her arms. She tried to erase the unease that had sprung inside her stomach, telling herself that the article didn't mean anything. It was a war, after all, or at least, the beginning of a war, and a riot like the one the newspaper explained wasn't at all unusual.
The uncanny resemblance to what had happened at the World Cup was purely coincidental.
She shoved her musings to the back of her mind and snatched up another paper, trying to keep her sights on the task at hand.
The next week, she and Daphne met again. Now that the school year was again in full-swing, it was becoming more customary to have other students in the library, as well, especially older students whom had more homework than Astoria.
Daphne and Astoria began to collect their work to a solitary corner, lest they be disturbed by the other students.
"Astoria," said Daphne slowly. Astoria looked up from her copy of the Daily Prophet at the sound of her full-name.
Daphne's eyes were trained on her own newspaper.
"The Auror Department would like to announce the death of Hyperion Meliflua," said Daphne quietly. "October second, nineteen-eighty-seven."
Astoria thought she detected a slight tremble to Daphne's voice, but when she looked carefully, saw no trace of tears in Daphne's eyes.
"They – that's it," said Daphne. "That's all they had to say."
"Aren't you meeting with your sister today?" said Sara.
"No. It's Hogsmeade weekend. She's in the village with her friends," said Astoria, slurping her porridge and enjoying eating breakfast leisurely, without having to rush off the library as soon as she was finished.
"Oh," said Sara. "I can't wait until next year. Then we can go, too."
"Yeah," Melissa agreed.
"Yeah," said Astoria idly. She had thought about going to the library to continue researching on her own, but the vision had felt somehow…incomplete without Daphne there as driving force. Astoria didn't think she'd know where to begin.
"So, what do you and your sister do, anyway, Astoria?" said Sara. "I mean, you haven't been spending all these Saturdays shut up in the library reading, have you?"
"Hmm," said Astoria. It wasn't as if she and her sister had made much headway in their search of Hyperion Meliflua. Astoria wasn't even sure what they were looking for. After all, the newspapers might be able to provide them with dates and facts, but to find those they could just look at their father's headstone. Astoria was afraid Daphne was looking for something more substantial, however, something they might never be able to put together from a few scattered articles in newsprint.
"Astoria?"
"Hmm? What?" Astoria looked up from her milky-gray porridge, finding both Sara and Melissa were staring at her.
"I asked you what you and your sister have been doing these Saturdays," said Sara.
Astoria looked at Sara, who was a picture of innocence, wide-eyes curiosity, and good intentions.
"We – nothing. We just talk, I guess. Yeah, we just talk."
"Oh," said Sara. "Well, that's nice."
"I wish I had an older sister," said Melissa. "I just have two older brothers."
Melissa rarely discussed her brothers. They were both several years older than her. One had already graduated and the other was a sixth year. Both had been Gryffindors, Astoria believed. Astoria didn't think she had ever even seen them.
"It – isn't really all it's cracked up to be," Astoria attempted to joke. But she wasn't entirely sure anymore. It had certainly been…different so far, this year with Daphne. Astoria's older sister seemed to be more inclusive of Astoria than she had been in a very long time. Astoria discovered she had begun to secretly relish her sister's company.
"I wish I had a sister, too," said Sara. "All I've got is a little brother. He's so annoying." Melissa laughed and Astoria mustered a smile.
"So," said Sara, "what to do today?"
Astoria honestly didn't know. It had been ages since she, Melissa, and Sara had had a weekend together. She'd forgotten what they used to do during the past school year.
"It's still nice out," said Melissa. "We could sit out by the lake."
"Stephan and Mark suggested we could go climbing in the forest. You know, the non-forbidden part," said Sara.
"I'd rather not," said Astoria primly, pushing away her empty bowl of porridge.
Sara immediately looked exasperated, "Because Stephan will be there?"
"Brilliant deduction," said Astoria.
Sara rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Astoria. Stephan's really nice. I can't understand why you two don't get along."
Astoria sighed. She really hadn't wanted to be drawn into another one of these debates, but felt her lips open automatically. "I'd rather not spend my Saturday with him, Sara. Any day with him, really."
"Guys," cut in Melissa quietly and unexpectedly, twisting her hands in front of her chest. "Can we…just not talk about it, okay?"
Sara frowned but huffed, "Okay."
Astoria sighed. "Alright."
"So," said Melissa brightly after a pause. "Who wants to go out by the lake?"
Astoria was eating supper when she saw Daphne walk into the Great Hall by herself, back from Hogsmeade early without her friends. Daphne craned her neck; Astoria thought she could guess who her sister was looking for and got up from the Ravenclaw table. She excused herself from Sara and Melissa and went towards the doors.
Daphne saw Astoria when she was half-way to her and stepped forward.
"Hey," said Daphne, "how was your day?"
"Fine," said Astoria. "How was Hogsmeade?"
Daphne shrugged, "Alright. Want to go to the library?"
"What, tonight?" said Astoria.
"Sure," said Daphne. "We could get in a few hours of searching before curfew."
Astoria looked over her shoulder, finding the Ravenclaw table where Sara and Melissa were sitting. Both were staring at her, which made her feel oddly uncomfortable about leaving. They expected her back. She hadn't been spending very much time with them outside of classes. She'd lied about what she and Daphne were doing in the library.
"…Okay," said Astoria at last. "I guess for a couple of hours."
Daphne led the way through the hallways, which were quickly fading to darkness as the sun sunk below the mountains outside the windows. Torches began to spring to life on the walls.
The library was again empty when they got there. Candles flickered gently on the tables and floated in-between the bookshelves. Madame Pince looked up from her desk in the corner to shoot them a glare.
They sat in their familiar aisle in silence and began where they had left off the weekend before. Astoria noticed that Daphne went back to the papers dated in the fall of 1987. She wondered if her sister was looking for any more information of their father's death. The thought made her stifle a shiver.
Astoria snatched a magazine from the nineteen-seventies, hoping for articles about the war. The silence pressed oddly against her ears. The library seemed to be much gloomier than it did in the clearness and sunlight filtering through the windows of morning. Astoria stifled her breathing and listened to the scratchy ruffle of turning pages.
"So," Astoria whispered. Her voice sounded unnaturally loud. She almost jumped at the sound. Daphne looked up. "What did you do in Hogsmeade?"
Perhaps it was some hidden desire to be truthful that prodded Astoria's attempt at conversation. After all, she had told Sara and Melissa that she and Daphne spent these hours talking.
Daphne shrugged, "Not much. I went shopping with Tracey and Soph. I went to lunch with Theo. Blaise tagged along with some girl from fifth-year he's seeing. But she's rich, and ugly, and pure. So I guess he wasn't complaining."
Astoria almost asked if whether or not that was why Daphne was seeing Theo. Because he was rich, ugly, and pure. She held her tongue.
"Oh," said Daphne, and stuffed a hand into her pocket to pull out an assortment of brightly wrapped sweets. "Here," she said, "from Honneydukes."
Astoria felt a smile tug at her lips, immediately glad she hadn't made the quip about Theodore Nott. "Thanks."
Daphne shared an unusually warm smile before turning back to her newspaper. "What did you do?" she asked.
"Just hung around outside," said Astoria, pulling her magazine back across her knees.
"Are you still friends with that Muggle-born girl?" said Daphne.
Astoria looked up. Daphne was concentrating on her newspaper. Astoria could hear Madame Pince as she began clearing up the library, bringing books back to their proper shelves. The aisle they were sitting in was completely bathed in shadows but for the gaps in the shelves that allowed the orange light of sunset to filter through.
"Yes."
Daphne didn't answer. Astoria frowned and snatched up one of the candies on the floor. She twisted it open and popped it into her mouth, chewing with vigor.
Silence, like the wax of the candles hovering over their heads, dripped onto the floor of the aisle. Astoria sighed and found it difficult to concentrate on the article she was pursuing. It was getting late and Astoria was tired and the article in the magazine didn't have anything whatsoever to do with her father.
She wondered what Daphne was thinking, whether or not she was going to bring up Sara again, what Astoria would have to say to her sister, whether or not Astoria had any arguments strong enough to refute Daphne's.
"Tori," said Daphne abruptly, leaning over to indicate her newspaper. "Look at this – "Following the death of her husband in Azkaban, Lyra Greengrass has put forward a petition, entreating for the custody of her husband's body. Greengrass' husband, Hyperion Meliflua, had been imprisoned for life in Azkaban after being found guilty of crimes of a Death Eater, and died four and a half years into his sentence.
"When asked by Daily Prophet reporters about her request, Lyra Greengrass read a prepared statement which declared that she wished to bury her husband's body in the family plot, instead of the cemetery at Azkaban, as is customary of prisoners who die during the duration of their term."
Silence met the end of Daphne's voice. Astoria didn't know whether or not her sister wanted her to respond. Astoria didn't know what to say. She didn't know what she felt, hearing about her father's death, hearing about her mother's attempt at acquisitioning her husband's body for a burial.
"Do you remember it?" said Daphne, whispering across the flickering shadows. Perhaps it was the gloom of the library, but the night felt oddly somber. Astoria tucked the magazine that was lying across her knees quietly back on its shelf.
"Just a little," said Astoria. Bits and pieces. Being frightened. Seeing her mother cry and crying along with her because her mother wasn't supposed to cry and that was perplexing, disturbing. Screaming and not knowing what was happening, being led away by her grandmother, who told her to hush, child, don't cry. Everything was alright.
"I remember it," said Daphne softly. "It was cold that morning."
Astoria shut her eyes against the pounding memories, recalling the vision of a crumbling grave and much-to-bright flowers, remembering the chill of dementors, who made her relive those memories as if she was again a little girl, upset and confused, so cold.
Astoria wondered if Lyra Greengrass ever went back to visit the grave. If she did, she'd certainly never brought her daughters with her, or mentioned where she was going.
"Do you –" Daphne began, but her voice tripped as though something had blocked it. "I mean," Daphne started again, not looking at Astoria. "The other – Death Eaters who've been caught, they – most of them are still alive. Most have gone insane but at least they're still alive. Most of them were in higher security cells then Dad, too."
Astoria peered closely at her sister, wondering what Daphne meant, but welcoming any form of relief from the shivering memories that drifted half-formed across her mind.
"I've just," Daphne picked at a corner of the newspaper, rolling it between her fingers. "I've been wondering. It's – just a wild notion but…what if Dad, you know – what if he…repented? What if he felt bad about what he'd done and that – that thought made him give up. That that was just too much of a burden for him to keep living so he – died rather than have to relive all those memories."
"I – I don't know." Astoria's voice was very quiet. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She realized her fingers were shaking.
"It's just a – stupid idea, really," Daphne muttered. "It isn't as though we'll ever know for sure."
Astoria certainly didn't know what to say to that. Something occurred to her suddenly, trickling through her brain like chilled water. Daphne had said that perhaps her father had felt bad about the things he had done, that perhaps he had repented and felt guilty enough to want to die – but that meant that Daphne, herself, thought the crimes of a Death Eater were worth feeling guilty over. Astoria found herself doused with a sudden wave of relief, realizing at the same time that she had somehow, in the back of her mind, an unrecognized corner, doubted her sister's true motives in learning about their father.
Then it was not, as Astoria had never acknowledged but still feared, because of a half-formed desire in Daphne's mind, because her sister perhaps relished their father's passed situation in the war.
"What are you two still doing here?" Astoria jumped. Beside her, she heard Daphne do the same, newspaper rustling to the floor. It was Madame Pince, looking livid. "The library is now closed! Get out!"
Astoria kicked herself forward. She felt Daphne's hand on her back, prodding her hastily out of the aisle.
"We're sorry," said Daphne quickly, adopting an innocent, pleading tone to her voice. "We hadn't realized it had gotten so late."
"That's no excuse!" Madame Pince rapped. "Out! This instant!"
They scurried through the library's doors. Madame Pince shut the door behind them with a clatter and a click of a lock.
Daphne muttered beneath her breath, "Miserable, fowl-tempered, old hag." And said aloud, pushing herself to the front of Astoria. "Come on, Tori. It's almost curfew. You wouldn't want to be caught out of bed."
"Alright," said Astoria. Somehow the evening felt incomplete. There seemed to be so many things unsaid. Astoria knew she had caught a rare glimpse of her sister's heart and didn't want to leave that behind so quickly. She didn't want to admit that she was half-way nervous about making her way back to her common room alone in the dark. "Will you – walk with me for just a little while?"
Daphne peered at her shrewdly from the shadows. For a moment Astoria was sure Daphne was going to accuse Astoria of being afraid, but, mercifully, the moment passed and Daphne shrugged. "Sure."
"So," said Daphne as they began to walk, "Moody hasn't been giving you a hard time, has he?"
"Not that I've noticed," said Astoria. "I don't know, though, he still gives me the creeps."
"He should be fired," said Daphne. "Did you know that he showed us the three unforgivable curses? It's ludicrous. Ministry decree says we students shouldn't be allowed to see them until N.E.W.T. year. Not that I was bothered by it, of course. I'm plenty strong enough to witness something like that. Still, Dumbledore should watch his step."
"Yeah," said Astoria, not really knowing how to respond. Quickly she ran through the three unforgivable curses in her mind, all punishable by a life-sentence in Azkaban. Uncomfortable she remembered that her father had been sentenced for life in Azkaban. She shivered and unconsciously drew closer to Daphne as she walked.
Torched burned on the walls and statues loomed in the darkness. Astoria couldn't believe it had gotten so late. She wondered if Sara and Melissa were worried about her, or if they were with Stephan and Mark.
Astoria jumped as sharp footsteps suddenly cracked to life ahead of them. A thin shadow approached from around the bend. Daphne paused, hand on Astoria's shoulder.
Professor McGonagall stepped into the flickering light of the torches. She was frowning. "What are you two doing out of bed?"
"We were just going," said Daphne sullenly. Astoria looked at her sister out of the corner of her eye. McGonagall was not a professor to cross.
"Usually detention falls to students who are caught out of bounds at night," said Professor McGonagall sternly.
"Sorry, Professor," said Astoria quickly. "We lost track of time."
"Well," said Professor McGonagall, "I suggest you make haste, then." And to Daphne, "Miss Greengrass, the Slytherin common room is the other way, I believe."
"Thank you, Professor," said Daphne. The coolness in Daphne's voice was evident to Astoria only because she knew Daphne so well. Astoria wouldn't have been surprised if McGonagall missed it.
"Good evening, then," said McGonagall and walked brusquely away.
There was an odd, echoing pause and then Daphne suddenly said, her voice low and angry, "Did you hear her? Did you see the way she looked at me just because I'm a Slytherin?"
"…What?" said Astoria, staring at Daphne, whose face was obstructed by the shadows accept for the curl of her upper lip. "Daphne she –" But Astoria didn't know what to say. She hadn't noticed anything particularly demeaning in McGonagall's attitude. She seemed to be just as stern as she would be to any student she found out of bed after curfew.
"It's a hard world for people like us, Tori," said Daphne, staring down the hallway, where Professor McGonagall had disappeared into the darkness. "People treat us differently just because of our convictions – just because we hold with the old way of life, the right way of life."
Suddenly Daphne sounded unfamiliar, words spouted from her lips that Astoria thought would be better placed on the mouth of Pansy Parkinson or Draco Malfoy. Perhaps their mother, Lyra Greengrass. Not a girl who, a half an hour before, had been musing on their father's repentance over being a Death Eater.
"I guess, Daphne," Astoria said.
"Come on," said Daphne abruptly, "let's get you to bed."
"But Professor McGonagall said for you –"
"I don't really care what Professor McGonagall told me to do," said Daphne loftily. It was the first time that Astoria could remember seeing Daphne purposely disregard a figure of authority. Daphne usually sucked up to the teachers at Hogwarts. Astoria wasn't sure why, but it made her feel slightly uneasy.
Daphne led Astoria the rest of the way to the Ravenclaw tower, where she left her at the base of the stairs. She waved over her shoulder and gave her a smile, which flickered white in the torchlight. Astoria turned to go up the stairs but paused to look over her shoulder, watching Daphne disappear down the shadowy corridor.
Concerning the next update: it might be next week, it might be another four months from now, but it will get here…eventually.