And right after good things typically come the bad...
Yes! I know! Two chapters! Praise me! ;-)
Caught
by Shu of the Wind
***
Time began to pass again, once Easter break ended, smoother and somehow slower than it had before. It was growing warmer, though Hogwarts was probably still sprinkled with snow, and there were robins everywhere. Everything seemed so bright and understandable.
Astoria wasn't sure of anything anymore, and stuck to her room unless she had to make excuses for Angelina, or keep an eye on the Polyjuice Potion they had permanently bubbling in the bathroom. Angelina, who had probably been waiting for this reaction every since Astoria had shown up on her doorstep, said nothing about it, but Astoria could practically taste her pity in every cup of tea (which she seemed to now be obsessed with making) and soon began to swear off the stuff entirely, the solution to all problems or not.
Her reluctance to speak to anyone was not the result of a sudden case of the willies, caused by the fight with the Snatchers, no matter what Angelina might have thought. It was because Astoria was absolutely furious with herself and the inconsistencies and muck-ups of the human race, and any time spent with another human being was a time that might eventually lead to mass murder.
She was angry with the Death Eaters. Angry with the Ministry. Angry with the rebellion, which, while working to save the Muggle-borns and blood traitors, did next to nothing else. Angry with those in Hogwarts, being so absolutely stupid as to continue risking their lives for something that she'd believed in for so long, but which she was now so exhausted of all she wanted to do was hide under her bed for the rest of her life and get the hell out of their way.
But most of all, she was angry with herself for thinking these things, and for giving into the absolutely ridiculous impulse of kissing him. (She refused to even think his name.) She was angry with herself for kissing him, angry with him for kissing her back, angry with whatever stupid primordial magical being god thing had decided to throw them together in this way, angry at the world for forcing her to continue down this path they'd forged, and angry with Angelina for not knowing a single thing about any of it.
She hadn't actually told anyone but herself (several times) about the twisted, mucked-up relationship she had with him. Draco Malfoy. (Don't think his name, damn it all.) And she planned to keep it that way. If anyone else knew that she, Astoria Greengrass, self-professed traitor to the pureblood race and an instrument of the Chain, was on speaking terms (snogging terms, you mean, hypocrite) with a Death Eater, then she'd be tossed out on her ear before she managed to think of something to say in her own defense. And she couldn't afford that. Most definitely not now.
Every day, things were growing worse. Astoria couldn't help being a little relieved to see Lovegood's photograph in the Prophet, offering a reward for her capture; that Potter, Weasley – all the Weasleys – and Granger were on the run. Whenever she read about the highly publicized capture and escape from Malfoy Manor, however, she was furious all over again. Her blood burned with fear and rage. It explained how grey he'd been, and why he'd been cut all over his face, but the fact remained that he hadn't told her himself.
That was yet another thing that she would never forgive him for.
If she had been able to use phantom hands to strangle people, he would have been her first victim.
The Quibbler seemed to have been put permanently out of business by the escape. At least, neither Astoria nor Angelina were receiving issues anymore, either pro- or anti-Voldemort. (And whatever they said about it, his name was one thing they left unspoken.) The news that Xenophilius Lovegood had been put into Azkaban for a phony capture of Harry Potter was a sobering, frightening fact, and suddenly, the need to get other 'traitors' out of Britain grew so much more powerful that she couldn't sleep at night any longer.
"Astoria."
Astoria lifted her head from her hands, staring at Angelina over the dining table in the flat. Angelina was wrapped around yet another cup of coffee – she seemed to practically live off the stuff – her face worn and tired, her wand on the table in front of her. Neither of them ever let their wands go, now. It was their one true safety measure. From what she'd been hearing lately, both of them were damn lucky to still have their wands.
"You look like hell." Astoria said finally. Angelina grimaced.
"So do you. What's up? You've been sighing for the past twenty minutes."
My life is the plaything of some devilish, devilish being. "Nothing." Astoria lied. "Frustrated. Bored. Impatient. When are the Abercrombies supposed to show up?"
"We're supposed to meet them at the docks in half an hour. We should probably go early, just in case they show up." Angelina said, after checking her watch quickly. "Get the Polyjuice Potion and meet me back here."
"Where else would I meet you?" Astoria muttered under her breath, as she stood.
After they had nearly been caught by Snatchers, Angelina had ruled that every time they went out to collect Muggle-borns – almost every time they went out at all, now – they had to have drunk some Polyjuice Potion. Had to change their appearances. The neighbors were under the impression that 'Mel' and 'Angie' were hugely popular at the university, and continued to have friends and family over at any hour of the day or night.
The hair Astoria dropped into her mug had been plucked from the head of a man who lived downstairs, a bus driver who worked nights and almost never appeared during the daytime. Angelina had taken one from the head of a woman she had 'accidentally' bumped into in Hyde Park, which, when dropped into her mug, turned it the same color and smell as raspberries. Astoria's turned green and tasted like chives.
"Hey, Johnson." Astoria said, smirking a little with her new mouth. "Guess what? You're white."
"And you're a man, Greengrass." Angelina snapped back, trying not to smile as she rolled her eyes. "If you're done being witty, cast the Disillusionment Charm, and let's get out of here already."
She felt distinctly odd to be speaking with a man's voice, and wandering around in a man's body. After all, out of all of the transformations she'd made thanks to the Polyjuice Potion, this was the first time ever that she'd turned into a man. She towered over Angelina, and had big hands like boulders.
"I feel like Goyle." She complained. "Smarter, but still..."
"Just shut up and cast the charm already."
Astoria obeyed, pushing the subject of one of her fellow Slytherins far, far out of her mind as she grabbed Angelina Johnson's elbow and followed her into Side-Along Apparition.
They'd planned to meet the Abercrombies – a half-blood family with a Muggle-born mother, a son in Hogwarts, and a tendency towards bad luck – at the Greenwich Docks, where there was a guarantee that they would be an unnoticed family simply wandering along on a Saturday afternoon. Of course, the chance that the Snatchers would fall for it was slim – they'd been following the Abercrombies movements for weeks now – but it was worth a try. They had a three minute window to make.
"Finite." Angelina whispered, rapping Astoria hard on the top of her head with her wand. There was that peculiar hot runny feeling of the Disillusionment Charm lifting, and she fizzled back into visibility. Angelina tucked her hand into the crook of Astoria's arm. "Come on, Dad. Let's go walking. And for God's sake, quit moving like you're in a skirt."
"This is so ridiculous." Astoria muttered back, as they stepped out onto the walkway. She tugged at her shirt a little. "I feel like a fool. What are the Abercrombies supposed to look like?"
"They won't be hard to miss, they'll be the only family here looking scared." Angelina stared out at the water thoughtfully. "They'll be at the end of the dock, though. Come on."
"Will the father be holding a red rose between his teeth? That might help us find them."
"Shut up, will you! They're probably not even here yet."
She could hear her heart pounding far too fast in her ears. Astoria shut up, and tried hard not to walk like she was in a skirt. Unfortunately, this gave her a half an hour to think, without being spoken to, and right now, was bloody dangerous.
How could I have kissed him? It had been a complete impulse, undeniable; she'd been too furious and scared to keep herself back, and now...Well. She didn't regret it, exactly; but she wasn't sure it had been a good idea in the first place, though it had certainly seemed like one at the time, and now that she had had time to think it over it had just made it that much more difficult to distance herself from the issue. Astoria dug her nails into her palms as she and Angelina turned and started to walk down the dock again.
It had been her idea to meet with him, her idea to seek him out for Occlumency, her idea to bloody well rebel against the Carrows. He might have to take on a little more than half the blame for this situation – she was too humiliated by herself to consider anything else – but she had to end this. They both had to. If she hadn't known better, she would have sworn that someone had put her under the Imperius Curse, to keep her from doing it when she'd seen him that time.
As they walked past a bench, a front page article of a newspaper caught her eye, and Astoria swallowed: Murder-suicide; teenage boy kills parents, then self. She wondered if that had been Death Eaters playing with Muggles, or simply an unwanted glimpse into the warped, grotesque side of humanity. If there was a difference.
There had to be a difference. Muggles had been killing each other for centuries, just like wizards, from long before the Dark Lord had ever risen. It couldn't just be today that monstrosities occurred, couldn't just be today that people killed each other so callously, that nobody cared about strangers and that those they didn't know were nothing. A statistic. Nothing but a number.
Children bearing ice cream cones shrieked and ran past them on the dock, and Astoria jumped violently. Angelina seized her arm.
"It's all right. Calm down."
Time ticked by. Astoria checked her watch again, and again. In ten minutes, the Polyjuice Potion would begin to wear off, and the Abercrombies were almost a half-hour late.
"They're late." Angelina said, unnecessarily. "I don't like this."
"We'll be ourselves again soon." Astoria tapped her foot, her arms on the protective bar around the dock. "We can't stay here much longer."
"Two more minutes." Angelina said; her eyes rolled over the crowd. "Two minutes more."
"I don't like this." Astoria parroted. "We need to get out of here, Angelina. Right now."
Angelina shook her head slightly, glancing around one last time. Her eyes narrowed. "There."
Astoria turned, and swore so loudly that a twelve-year-old jumped and giggled nervously.
A family of three – Tristan, Marilyn, and Euan Abercrombie, recognizable by their mops of sandy blonde hair – were running towards them from the wrong end of the dock. Behind them, closing fast, were the same four Snatchers that Astoria had met outside London, and she swore again. What is it with those four and stalking us?
"Over the side." Angelina ordered. Astoria jumped.
"What? But –"
"Use Ascendio. Take them by surprise. They haven't seen you, walk away from me, and distract them, and jump. Now!"
Astoria obeyed, casting a curse which blew up a nearby garbage can before using the smoke to leap over the edge, falling down, down, down, into the water of the Thames.
She hit it feet first. It was freezing, middle-of-March cold, and she went under for a long moment. Her chest constricted angrily, fearfully, at her total immersion, and suddenly she was three years old again, trapped in a well with no way to escape.
Her face broke the surface. Astoria stared at the top, listening to the screams of the Muggles and following the flashing lights, before pointing her slippery wand up toward the sky.
"Ascendio."
She blasted out of the water like a cannonball powered her feet, and to her shock and horror hit the first Snatcher she remembered. They both fell over; spells banged and flashed around her; Astoria pointed her wand into his face and muttered the Conjunctivitis Curse before knocking him out and scrambling away, feeling sick. She was herself again, soaked and in too-big, water-sloshed clothes, and this was far, far too much for her –
Someone seized her elbow, and Astoria hexed them without thinking, caught in a duel with the Snatcher who had bruised her collarbone so badly that first time she'd seen him; behind her, Angelina and Tristan Abercrombie were fighting the third Snatcher, and Euan and Marilyn had been forced back, and a spell hit her on the chest as she turned to make sure they were all right –
She was blasted off her feet, hit a tree, and slumped to the ground; her wand flew out of her hand. She heard the pounding feet and saw Marilyn out of the corner of her eye, darting towards her, and the limp body of Tristan fell across her legs –
One of the Snatchers bellowed, "Get away from her, Mudblood!" Marilyn barely dove out of the way of a Killing Curse, shielding Euan with her body.
"You're that Greengrass brat." The Snatcher said. He seized her by her newly black hair and pulled her up from the ground, and Astoria couldn't help a shocked, angry cry of pain. "We've been lookin' for you."
"Get out of here!" Astoria shrieked, as Angelina whirled, two more Snatchers looming. "Get out of here now!"
Angelina didn't say, "I won't leave you!" She didn't say anything. With a tortured look, she seized the screaming Marilyn and pale Euan and twisted into nothing, leaving Tristan Abercrombie and Astoria Greengrass at the mercy of the Snatchers.
***
Azkaban. This meant Azkaban.
The thought drummed through her head as Astoria followed the Snatchers into the Ministry of Magic, the newly revived Tristan tied to her like a Siamese twin. The Snatcher held her wand, her ash and unicorn hair wand that had found her four years before, and she kept her eyes on the pocket where he'd stashed it, and planned some kind of desperate escape, anything to get herself out of this.
Tristan hadn't said a word since he'd been captured, but his face was tinged green and his eyes were huge with terror; Astoria didn't have a thing to say to him that could reassure him about his family, or himself, because she was running through everything that she could think of and absolutely none of it seemed appropriate or feasible.
"Filthy Mudblood lovers." The Snatcher said, jerking at the ropes tying Astoria and Tristan together. They both nearly tripped; Astoria felt Tristan's forehead slam into her shoulder as they crossed into the Ministry of Magic, two traitors on a string.
The Ministry was dark and dank. People scurried to and fro under the eyes of the witch and wizard statues, intent upon their tasks and not angering any of the Death Eaters nearby. None of them shot a single glance at the Snatchers, Tristan, or Astoria, and sped up as they passed, as though they were frightened of being contaminated; Astoria opened her mouth to shout, and one of the Snatchers hit her in the back with a Silencing Charm.
"None of that, now."
They crammed together into the elevator, which now stank of sweat and fear, and went down to the old courtrooms. One of them had been converted into a makeshift cell, filled with human beings standing in cylindrical tubes only about the same width around as a coffee table; Astoria saw some people were curled into balls at the bottom, sleeping quietly. Some were crying, silently, their arms wrapped around themselves. This had to be the waiting room for the trials and for Azkaban.
The Snatcher untied Astoria and shoved her forward, into one of the empty circles; her forehead smacked against the opposite side, and Astoria let out a loud cry as something that felt like electricity slammed into her skull, painful as a cut and something she definitely never wanted to touch again.
He laughed, pushing Tristan into the other empty cylinder, and began twirling Astoria's wand in his fat fingers, studying her.
"You're not too bad lookin', for a traitor, you little brat." He leered at her, and Astoria crossed her arms defensively over her chest, trying to stop her hands from shaking. "Might go better for you if you're nice to me."
Bile filled her mouth as he flicked her wand again, lifting the Silencing Charm to hear her answer. Astoria spat something curt and heinous, taking sincere pleasure in seeing the color bloom in his stubbled cheeks; but before she could continue, he'd pointed her own wand into her face and snarled, "Crucio."
It was the detention dungeon all over again, bones melting, scars burning, mind breaking; she could barely hear Tristan's shouts over her own screams – "Leave her alone, leave her alone, she's just a kid, leave her alone, for God's sake –" but it didn't stop, he wouldn't stop until she either said yes or she was dead, and she wasn't sure which path she wanted to take, and oh, God, it hurt, like white hot knives pressed against her flesh and organs and nails being driven into her ears –
"That's enough for now, I think, Mr. Cornswallower," came a high-pitched, honey sweet voice.
It ended so abruptly that for an instant, she thought she'd died. Astoria curled into an even tighter ball at the bottom of her prison, tears and blood pouring down her face – she'd bitten through her lip in the attempt not to scream, but that attempt had been pointless, over within five seconds. Dimly, as though from far away, she thought she recognized that voice, but she couldn't work up enough effort to acknowledge the fact…she didn't want to look up…
Something forced her to her feet again, controlling her limbs as though she were a puppet, though leaving her in complete control of her mind, and Astoria spat blood and mucous onto the floor of her prison, almost at the feet of a dumpy little woman, at least a foot and a half shorter than she was, with a little bow on the top of her curly head.
"Good afternoon, Miss Greengrass." Umbridge said, her voice sickeningly sweet. "The Professors Carrow will be so very pleased I've finally managed to find you."