Chapter Three of Antipathy! I think there's only one more chapter in this story, and then it ends. Hope you enjoy!
WARNING: Mentions of blood, torture, blackmail, and Dark Lords. Rating...PG-13. Perhaps.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any aspect of the Harry Potter franchise. I am not J.K. Rowling or Warner Bros. I do not have any claim over the characters, their personalities, or actions. I just like making their personalities bounce off each other in these little tales called fanfiction. So please, don't sue me. I can't afford it right now.
Secret
by
Shu of the Wind
"We'll be practicin' on live subjects today."
Amycus Carrow nodded to the classroom of Slytherin students as two burly-looking fifth years, near the door, slid out into the hallway. "Jus' so you get the hang of it. Now, I don't want any killin', you hear, just a bit of punishment."
Baddock and Vaisley – the two fifth-years – returned, holding a struggling student between them. All anyone could tell was that the student was female; there was a bag over her head, and she was jerking and twisting so fiercely in an attempt to free herself that the insignia on her cloak was practically invisible. The swearwords and insults sreaming out from under the hood were so creatively obscene that even Draco was midlly impressed; he had never thought a girl would ever possess that sort of vocabulary.
"You might be surprised." Amycus grinned as the bucking student was dragged to the front of the classroom, swearing all the way. "We found this one skulking around on the seventh floor acting as a watchdog for some students throwin' paint on the walls. Not the first time she's been caught up there, either, and she's been seen whisperin' with a few of the more dangerous half-bloods."
Draco said nothing. The rest of the classroom shifted uneasily, eyeing the bagged figure as though she had suddenly sprouted the fangs of a basilisk.
Amycus grabbed the girl's upper arm, eliciting a ragged breath of air, like he'd dug his fingers into a wound, and flicked his wand. The bag flew off.
Draco had always prided himself on his ability to keep his emotions hidden. Occlumency had simply given him even more control over them, letting him ignore the ones he didn't want and dismiss the ones that cropped up like bad weeds at the most inapporpirate of moments.
But at the sight of Astoria Greengrass spitting strands of hair out of her mouth, glaring daggers at Amycus as he tightened his grip on her arm, he nearly forgot how to breathe.
"We started a detention down in the dungeons when somethin'—" he didn't explain further "—told us it'd have more effect on her if it came from…well, you lot." His patchy smile grew wider. "Other students, like."
Greengrass wrenched her arm from Amycus's grip and told him to do something anatomically impossible, though incredibly inventive. She spat on the floor. Vaisley and Baddock seized her again; one of them dug his wand into her cheek, hissing something into her ear and recieving an equally potent and anatomically impossible comment.
"As y'can see, detentions don't seem t'be workin' too well." Amyccus said, directing his own wand at Greengrass – her mouth continued to move for a few seconds, but nothing came out. She scowled at the room. "Y'unnerstand th'problem, you lot bein' fellow Slytherins. Can't have this cow ruinin' any more morale than she already has. So. Draco."
Draco looked at Amycus, something heavy settling in his stomach. Amycus beckoned with one hand.
"Show 'em how it's done."
He flicked his wand at Greengrass again, lifting the Silencing Charm.
"Make her scream."
Draco paused only for a second before getting up, heading for the front of the classroom. The rest of the Slytherins were staring at him as he went past, some looking a little excited, others blank as stone. It was easy enough to see the people who found the Cruciatus Curse distasteful in this classroom, at least.
Greengrass didn't make a single sound as he approached. After a second, he lifted his wand, looking right into her eyes, waiting for the command to begin.
"I dare you, Malfoy."
For a second, he thought it had been his imagination that had spoken. Then Vaisley dug his wand deeper into Greengrass' cheek, tightening his grip on her arm.
Greengrass shrugged the pain away, scuffing the floor with her shoe as she met his gaze, hard and clear. "Go on, Malfoy. I dare you to do it."
"Draco, what are you waitin' for?" Amycus spat. "Do it!"
"I dare you, Malfoy." Greengrass closed her eyes for an instant before opening them again; they had turned as red as blood. More blood ran out of her mouth like a tide; her face was slowly changing, into one that was flat and white and snakelike – her nose was disappearing, her eyes narrowing into cat-like slits. She shook off Vaisley and Baddock, and they both knelt on the floor before her as she towered over them, towered over the entire room, her voice an echoing, hissing roar: "I dare you."
Draco Malfoy's eyes snapped open; he took several deep breaths, staring up at the canopy on his four poster bed for what felt like an hour.
Then he stood, pulled on his clothes, and left the dormitory.
—
Astoria set down her peacock quill, blowing gently on the ink to dry it. The essay for Amycus Carrow's class was complete – a full account of how to use the Cruciatus Curse to the best effect against Mudbloods.
Without a doubt, it was the last thing she wanted to be doing. But it wasn't like she could say no without alerting the Carrows to what she actually believed.
Closing her eyes, she rolled up the foot and a half length of parchment and slipped it into her school bag to be turned in the next day.
It was nearly one in the morning. The other fifth year Slytherins, confident that they would pass their O.W.L.'s because they held the favor of the Carrows, and, more importantly, the headmaster, had all gone up to bed. The seventh years, too, had disappeared deeper into the dungeons, yawning behind their hands and whispering of what they could do to serve the Dark Lord once Harry Potter was dead.
Astoria hadn't slept in three days, and it didn't look like she would be able to sleep tonight, either. The nightmares wouldn't stop coming. She had lain awake in the bed, staring up at the greenish lantern in the ceiling, and listened to the rustle of the water just beyond the stone walls, and tried to think her way out of the terrifying labyrinth she had found herself in.
But nothing had come. And she could think just as well out here as she could in the fifth years dorm. At least here there was no one snoring.
After bewitching her schoolbag to fly to her bed, Astoria pulled one of the green and silver blankets a group of chattering first years had left behind of a chair and wrapped it around herself, sinking down onto one of the slightly damp couches and staring at the dying coals of the fire.
Her wand trembled against her side, and Astoria slid it from her pocket. The ash wood was cold under her fingertips, and, absently, she began to twirl it, watching green and silver sparks sprinkle out of the tip and onto the blanket spread across her knees. The fire wouldn't be re-lit until she either went to bed or did it herself.
Finally, after a long, overdone debate with herself, Astoria pointed her wand at the fireplace and whispered, "Incendio."
Flames roared up so fast that Astoria jumped, devouring the remaining chunks of wood, and she hurriedly dragged some dusty logs out of the pan (no Slytherin deigned to stoke the fire themselves; that was a house elves' job) and dumped them on so that the fire would have something else to consume.
"Draco, wait a minute!"
That high pitched voice was Pansy Parkinson. Astoria would know it anywhere; she had visited the Greengrass Manor twice last year, and despite the fact that she had spoken to Astoria at least three times, she still hadn't recognized her as Daphne's little sister. Quickly, she yanked the blanket over her head, hoping the shadows in the room would hide the lump she made under the blanket. The fire could have very well been made by a house elf, to the mind of Pansy Parkinson.
"What are you doing awake?" Malfoy sounded exceptionally more angry than usual. "Go back to bed. I don't want to talk to you."
"I was lying awake, I heard you shut the dormitory door. Why haven't you been speaking to us lately, Draco?" Pansy sounded as whiny as a mosquito as two pairs of shoes scuffed down the corridor towards the common room, and Astoria squashed herself even deeper into the cushions to avoid being detected. "What are you thinking? You're not thinking of betraying the Dark Lord again –"
"I never betrayed him in the first place!" Malfoy snapped. "I only failed in killing Dumbledore because Snape –"
"Foiled your plan, stole your glory – Draco, you can't use the same excuse twice!" Her voice turned shrill. "To the Dark Lord, failing him is the same as betrayal! You should know that better than any of us! And –"
Pansy suddenly seemed to realize that she was yelling, so her voice dipped down to a hiss that Astoria couldn't understand. But Malfoy could.
"What do I care about Potter?" He snapped. Astoria heard a pair of shoes start across the stone floors again. "He's on the run, like the coward he is. He can't do a thing."
"My parents think that if he remains alive, the Mudbloods and traitors could rally to him in an army." Pansy whispered. For the first time, Astoria heard real fear coloring her voice. "Remember what the other Death Eaters said?"
"Pansy." Malfoy said quietly. She ignored him.
"They said that –"
"Pansy."
"If Potter succeeds –"
"Shut up, he won't!"
"Then we're all going to –"
"Be quiet!"
The silence echoed like the slap of wet meat on stone. Finally, Pansy spoke again.
"Draco –"
"Just go away." Malfoy's voice was a snarl. "Leave me alone, for God's sake. You're not my girlfriend anymore. That ended last year. Just leave me alone for once, Parkinson."
A few shuffling steps later, someone darted back into the girls' dormitory and slammed the door. Astoria swallowed, extremely unnerved. She clearly wasn't supposed to have heard any of that, because the sudden smack and hiss of pain indicated that Malfoy had just kicked a wall in pure frustration. Astoria bit her lip to keep from exhaling too loudly. There was no way she could escape from this unless Malfoy either went back into the boys' dorm or left the common room. Neither of which seemed very likely at the moment, because someone sat down on the couch opposite hers with an ill concealed snarl.
Her throat tickled, and before she could stop it, a cough escaped from her tightly compressed lips.
This time, the snarl of anger was tinged with surprise. Quickly, Astoria closed her eyes, steadying her breathing. Her only chance to get out of here without getting her face cursed off was to pretend she hadn't heard any of it, that she'd just fallen asleep under the blanket if anyone tore it off her.
Sure enough, it was hard not to jump when something flipped the blanket back from her face, but she managed to do it – somehow. The soft hum of magical light came so close to her face that she nearly screwed her eyes shut even tighter, afraid that he might poke her in the eye with his wand, but after a few seconds the light faded, leaving spots on the inside of her eyelids.
Finally, the blanket flipped back up over her face and Astoria blinked a few times. Then, carefully, she pulled the blanket down again.
The entrance to the common room was just sliding shut when she flung the blanket off and darted after him.
The corridor outside was empty, except for the tail of a cloak whipping around the corner, and muttering a quiet, "Lumos," Astoria followed.
She didn't have any idea why she was following him. Maybe it was because the air in the common room was too thick with the vestiges of the argument for her to go to bed. Maybe it was because of what she'd heard. Maybe it was because she was desperate to talk to someone – anyone at all – about what was going on, and he was the only one who knew about her allegiances. Or maybe it was because she was lonely, angry, and miserable, like he sounded.
But for some reason, her instincts were screaming – "Don't let him be alone, or he'll do something incredibly stupid."
It took a while, but she eventually found him – slamming through books in the library, scowling so hard it looked like his face would start hurting soon. His wand had been discarded on one of the desks, and fury mixed with despair curled off him in waves.
"Malfoy?" Astoria asked, lowering her wand slightly so the light wouldn't blind her again. "What are you doing?"
"Shove off." Malfoy turned his back on her. "You shouldn't be here."
Astoria recoiled a little, feeling like she'd just been bitten by a poisonous snake. She'd expected nothing less from him, but for some reason it still tasted of a slap.
She scowled, furious at herself. What was she doing, caring about being dismissed by Draco Malfoy? She hated him, anyway.
Malfoy threw another pile of heavy books onto the floor, making Astoria wince. If someone had heard that, they would both be given detention, and that, above all things, was what she wanted to avoid. If she was associated in any way with Dumbledore's Army, the only group of students that would be wandering the school at midnight hours, there would be no way for Daphne to remain alive.
"Malfoy." Astoria whispered, equally stunned and desperate for him to stop. But she didn't have a single clue what to say.
Malfoy knocked over another stack of books, but the fury boiling behind his eyes merely increased. She'd never seen anyone like this: so angry and helpless that the bounds on common sense, some might even say sanity, were fraying, those tightly woven strands of self being slowly destroyed by toxic emotions. Of course, she'd seen this before, with him in particular, but never like this.
But whatever happened when the strings snapped would be nothing compared to what the Carrows would do to students wandering after hours without permission, even to one of their golden Slytherin students. Even to their Death Eater apprentice.
"Get out of here!" Malfoy shouted, snarling at her. "What do you care if I get caught? What does it matter to you? You don't give a damn about me, you made that clear. Just leave – me – alone!"
Another pile of books went flying, and suddenly, the answer popped into her head.
Silently, she picked up his wand in her left hand, twirling it so that the handle extended out towards him. Then, quietly, she said, "Nox," extinguishing her light and completely erasing any more potential piles from Malfoy's sight. She could barely see him freeze, though she could hear that he was panting raggedly, clenching and unclenching his fists.
"You're right." She said. "I don't give a damn what happens to you."
That seemed to hit him like a punch in the gut. He actually flinched before he twisted around a little, turning his face towards her. She couldn't tell his expression at all.
"But your parents do give a damn, Malfoy." She tightened her grip on her wand. "They care what happens to you. And you care what happens to them, otherwise you wouldn't still be obeying His orders. If the Carrows get mad at you, who do you think they'll hurt to get you to stop? Not your friends, or you. You said it yourself that you don't give a damn. But your parents will, Malfoy. And it will be them who will suffer if they catch you like this."
After a few long seconds, she lit her wand again and held his forward, meeting his gaze slowly and carefully.
His face was pale; grey eyes wide and filled with mixed horror and despair as he stared blankly at the wand she held. Then, slowly, he took it, fingers shaking with the strain.
Astoria shoved him gently into one of the still upright chairs before charming the books, stacking them back on the tables with a flick of her long, tapered wand. She'd always been good at cleaning charms, not to mention she'd had to tidy up after Daphne's tantrums. It was second nature to do this now, not to mention the necessity of getting rid of the evidence was clawing at her throat. They shouldn't even be out here, not past midnight, not with the Carrows patrolling. It was a miracle they'd been able to get to the library at all.
Finally, Astoria turned, tucking her wand back into her sleeve; but she stopped dead at the sight behind her.
Draco Malfoy was holding his own wand in both hands, elbows resting on his knees; his hands were gripping the stick of wood so hard she was surprised it hadn't broken yet. He was staring blankly at nothing, at the spaces between the shelves; his shoulders were hunched; and his eyes were glassy.
Astoria merely stared at him for a few seconds before remembering what she'd seen the year before. What she'd seen and hadn't seen. Everything that nobody had told her. Then, moving slowly, she knelt in front of the chair and slowly disentangled his wand from his grip. The stick was set aside, on the table beside the bench, before she took both his hands in hers. His fingers were very cold and dry, so it felt like she was holding only bones as she squeezed them gently, waiting for the pressure to be returned.
His grip tightened like a vice, and though he didn't look at her, Astoria had the faintest impression he was both grateful and ashamed about accepting reassurance from someone he barely knew and hated about something he couldn't change.
And when they finally released each other's hands, at the same moment, Astoria had to pretend not to see that he turned quickly away to right the chilly, distant look on his face again; had to pretend that nothing had happened, and she could accept that. Not because she had had to deal with it with Daphne more than a few times, but because she knew she had to do the same thing.
Neither of them ever spoke of the library again.
So, hope you liked! Stick around for the last chapter!