Here it is. The Final Chapter. Excuse me for my maudlin sensibilities, but I can't help feel a tear or thousand prickle at my eye to let Antipathy go. It's a story that I've really cherished (and the first one I'm finishing on FF!) which definitely means I'll be coming back to it; don't cancel your alerts! Bonuses await (but not for a while, I have to focus on school.)
67 Reviews; 15 favorites; 24 alerts; 4,089 views. Thank you all so, so much for sticking with this story; it means more to me than you can ever know.
An especially big thank you to:
paper parasols -- for the fabulous reviews.
BittersweetSummer -- for helping me stay on track (believe me, you did)
tat1312 -- for being there from the beginning (I do owe you a cookie)
Material Girl -- all your reviews made me smile
SB -- for making me question Draco's motives
and pinksummer909 -- don't stay up to late reading FF, it makes it harder to do schoolwork later on. -.-
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iStat:
Chapter Title -- Never
Chapter Word Count -- 3,111 words
Chapter Rating -- PG or PG-13
Chapter Status -- Final Chapter
Never
by Shu of the Wind
***
The battle was over.
Daphne Greengrass sat down heavily in the sitting room of Greengrass House, curling up like a cat in the corner of the loveseat. She felt shaky, confused; there had been a battle at Hogwarts, and the other side had won. The rebels had won. The Mudbloods and half-bloods and the traitors had won, and Lord Voldemort, the wizard she'd been terrified of, the wizard they had all been terrified of, was incredibly – indescribably – dead.
How could this be true? Everything had happened so fast she was still reeling from the punch of the truth. She'd attended Astoria's trial only forty-eight short hours ago, witnessed something she hadn't thought she would ever see – seen the one person she had thought would never betray the Dark Lord break her misfit little sister out of prison – and she'd been an accomplice. She had been proud to be an accomplice.
Now her father and stepmother were on the run, probably like the rest of the Slytherin world, and Daphne was rattling around inside Greengrass House like a tiny pea in an enormous can.
Astoria. And Draco Malfoy. Astoria and Draco Malfoy. It couldn't fit into a rational world, like a puzzle piece shoved into a sink drain in an attempt to fix a leak. But somehow, it had happened, it could fit, and most importantly, it did fit. She didn't think it ever wouldn't.
But she'll be good for him. The thought was surprising, but true. Probably already has been. I wonder how long it will take him to figure that out.
Daphne was puzzled as to why, but she could deal with that. In fact, she didn't much care who Astoria decided to be involved with, but now, considering the battle, she doubted it was the safest idea, and she was intent on telling her sister so, once she found her again.
Not that Astoria had ever really listened to Daphne's advice. But she had to try, of course.
Twenty-four hours ago, Hogwarts had been attacked, and she had fled, along with most of Slytherin House, escaped from the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. She had fled, and hadn't looked back, and now she would probably be branded as a traitor and who knew what else, but she didn't much care. She was simply sitting in her chair, thinking hard, like she had for the past three hours, and everything was repeating in her head like a broken record.
Astoria and Draco Malfoy.
Hogwarts attacked.
Free from the Dark Lord.
What will we do now?
That was the question, wasn't it, what would they do now? What would Astoria do? What would Malfoy do? What was Daphne going to do? Unlike Astoria, she had no track record with the D.A. to protect her when the new Ministry came knocking; she had nothing, except breaking her sister out of jail. She had been involved with the Carrows, too, enjoyed their flattery; did that mean she was going to serve in Azkaban? Please, Salazar, no. She didn't want to go to Azkaban.
Daphne bit her lip, sighing slightly as she attempted not to cry. She had to come up with a plan. She'd always been good at plans. Why couldn't she come up with one now?
She should probably turn herself into the Ministry as a traitor, if she wanted to get the most lenient sentence. She couldn't run, like her father and Niobe. If she ran, she would be seen as guilty no matter what she had or hadn't done. She could go to the Ministry, and turn herself in as an accomplice in the breaking-out of her sister, Astoria Greengrass – without naming the other person, of course; she wasn't losing all of her principles – and hope that that would get her some clemency in the way of her punishment.
She could run, and change her face and name, and become another refugee streaming out of and into England after running from the Dark Lord for so long. But she doubted she could pull that off for long enough, and she didn't want to go on the run, anyway.
She could simply stay here, and wait for the Ministry to come get her. They were probably searching all the homes of people affiliated with the Death Eaters, and her father Ramalfus, with his funding of their activities, would be high on the list. They would find her and probably curse her, and drag her back to the Ministry.
The first option seemed the most prudent, but she couldn't bring herself to get up out of her chair. She stared around the room, puzzled and scared – would she ever enter this house again? Did she ever want to, after what she'd seen and done? After what her parents had done? She had begged her father, pleaded with him to testify in Astoria's favor, but he hadn't – just as he'd done for the past who knew how many years, he followed Niobe's will, and Niobe, vindictive, flattering, implacable Niobe, had willed that they testify against her stepdaughter because she had never, never, never conformed to Niobe's wishes.
Stupid self-righteous hag.
Daphne liked Niobe until now, had liked the way her stepmother had treated her and preferred to ignore the sour, angry look on her face whenever Niobe caught even a hint of Astoria's presence. Astoria had ruined Niobe's perfect vision of a family – a father, a mother, and a willing, compliant daughter – with her broomstick, and her angrily blonde hair, and her refusal to listen to Niobe at all. She had ruined the picture, and so she had to be eliminated from it.
What else could she do? Daphne curled even tighter into her chair, thinking, pulling the blanket over her knees in an effort to warm herself. The room seemed to be cold enough to make her shake, though a moment ago she had thought it was boiling hot in here. Go to the Ministry. Let the Ministry catch her. Run. Go. Catch. Run. Which one?
She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to run and never, ever come back.
But the only way she would be able to see her sister again was if she turned herself in.
Daphne stood, letting the blanket drop to the floor, and decided.
***
Astoria could still remember, many years later, with absolute clarity, the exact moment she learned that the Dark Lord had been vanquished.
She had been running from the Ministry for little more than a day, taking refuge in Muggle suburbs and the enormity of London. Sleeping in Hyde Park had been far less comfortable than she'd imagined it, and it had been pretty damn uncomfortable when she had imagined it, wondering whether she would ever end up doing it. She had doubted it at the time – laughable, now.
She held her wand close to her all night, after running and running and running. Hyde Park was a place she knew, and a place large enough that the Ministry would lose her inside. She would sleep in Hyde Park, then get something to eat, and continue running – all the way out of England if she had to. Umbridge, the Carrows, and Cornswallower himself wouldn't let her be unless she disappeared completely.
She couldn't go back to Angelina, because Angelina was probably under surveillance. Couldn't go back to Greengrass House for exactly the same reason. Astoria sat on the bench in Hyde Park, panting hard, her wand still held in her fingers. The Polyjuice Potion had worn off hours ago. She had to find some way to change herself.
She ended up using the Muggles to her own advantage when she dug up a bag of Muggle money she'd buried in the park just in case something like this happened. (Yes, Angelina had called her paranoid, but now she didn't much care.) She had been able to transfer some of her Gringotts gold into Muggle funds, thanks to Angelina and Polyjuice Potion (she didn't even want to count how many times the potion had kept her safe now) and there was more than enough here to become a completely different person.
So the morning after her escape, she walked straight into a Muggle hairdresser and told them to go crazy.
She ended up with hair dyed violently blue and black in long strips, creating a ribbon pattern; heavy make-up; and, for the first time in a long while, clean hair. It was a blessing amongst blessings.
When she walked into one of the clothing stores they directed her to, still with a hefty chunk of Muggle money in her hand, the clerk nearly threw her out before Astoria Confunded her. She was a Muggle again, in comfortable Muggle clothes, and completely invisible…hopefully. When she looked in the window as she had been paying, at least, it had taken her a moment to recognize herself.
It had been safer to sleep in Hyde Park again, and to her horror and chagrin, she learned later that she had slept through the battle at Hogwarts, but at the time she was simply sleeping off the enormous meal she'd bought from a fast-food restaurant and dead to the world. Her wand never left her hand, whether it remained in her coat pocket or not, and her money she put into a wallet she bought at a cheap little place and remained together with her wand.
She had heard stories about what had happened the first time Voldemort had been defeated. She would have had to have been a fool (or an orphan) to not have. But when she was suddenly embraced by a woman in long robes, with tears streaming down her face and yelling her joy in front of the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron (she'd been lurking there in an attempt to snatch a Prophet before fleeing the country) Astoria gave a wild scream and burst into tears, and the woman had looked very startled until Astoria had drawn her wand, and together they sent sparks wildly into the air. The air had tasted like charcoal in her mouth, and she could still feel, decades later, the cement under her feet and the cuts and scrapes on her skin, the scars on her forehead and hands and arms and legs. She could feel all of it, and the air was suddenly sweet in her mouth as she cried and shot sparks and shrieked her triumph at the top of her lungs.
They were free. Free.
This time, forever.
She wanted to run, and run, but suddenly she couldn't move, struck very hard by the fact that she no longer had to flee the country; she no longer had to hide from dementors every night; no longer keep herself apart from her sister and father. She could walk into Diagon Alley without being attacked and caught for the substantial reward she supposed Umbridge was offering for her; she could go back to Hogwarts and celebrate with the other students she'd left behind. She could walk onto the property of Greengrass House and not be cursed within an inch of her life.
Astoria felt drunk, woozy; she could do anything she wanted and not be punished. The Zellers and the Abercrombies could come back; Tristan Abercrombie and the other wrongfully imprisoned Muggle-borns could be freed from Azkaban; everyone would be free and happy and safe again.
Except one.
When she finally realized it, finally remembered, Astoria turned and ran through into the Leaky Cauldron, where men and women were hugging each other and crying, and no one sat the bar; she ran down Diagon Alley, and into Madam Malkin's, where she stole a pinch of Floo powder and threw it in the fireplace, her heart pounding in her throat.
She had to find out. She had to know.
What were they going to do to Malfoy?
***
Hogwarts was decimated, full of rubble and cheer and tears and bodies. Astoria landed in Minerva McGonagall's office with a thump, startling the students and McGonagall herself lining up to leave the castle, and for a long moment, she stared at them, black-faced and shaking.
"Aren't you Greengrass?" One of the Ravenclaws asked, looking quizzical. "Weren't you in the Prophet for smuggling Muggle-borns?"
"The Slytherin?" Another person whispered. "The one who ran from the Carrows?"
"And escaped Death Eaters?"
Astoria shrugged this off, not much caring what people thought of her, but the whole room began to buzz as Professor McGonagall wrapped her tartan dressing gown tighter around herself, her face stern and cold. Astoria cast a nervous glance at McGonagall, not daring to say anything; she didn't quite know what to do faced with all these people who knew who she was, what she had been doing the past few months, and made it all sound so much bigger than it had been, when all she had been doing was just trying to survive.
She could relish in the attention later. "No." Astoria lied, and pushed her way through the crowd back out into the hall.
Rubble and blood had been splattered along the corridor like some sort of macabre art, and it hurt her to see it. Walls were missing, classrooms had been destroyed, and through the windows she passed she could see that trees had been uprooted and that there were enormous footprints and dents from falling giants in the ground. She felt sick, like she might vomit – all this blood, people had died, people she might know – how could she know until she saw the bodies?
Students and family members wandered the halls, staring at Astoria in astonishment as she ran down towards the Great Hall, her newly streaked hair flashing behind her. She felt misplaced here, like an alien, but also completely, irreversibly home. The place where she had finally made something of herself, rather than just staying quiet, staying out of it, staying put.
The Great Hall was filled with bodies, and Astoria didn't dare look into their faces for the fear that it might belong to someone she knew. She could see Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan in the corner, talking to a tall boy with curling black hair – Susan had her arm around him – but she didn't want to speak to them now. She turned and ran out of the hall again, ignoring the first-year's annex, where two burly Hufflepuff boys stood guard at the door. The Death Eaters were in there, she knew – whether they were dead or alive was hard to say.
The hospital wing was full to bursting with patients, and to her delight she saw Professor Firenze standing with Cressel and Taybur in the corner. But she didn't see anyone with white-blonde hair, so without another word she turned and ran out again, before the centaurs even saw her. She would go see them afterwards, if she could, thank them for their help, and pressure the Ministry to give the younger herd to give them as much land as they wanted.
Classrooms passed, rooms checked and then dismissed. She knew he wouldn't be in any of the common rooms, except perhaps Slytherin, but when she ran through there it was eerily empty. Nowhere in the castle, so she tried the grounds. She ran around the lake, at the edge of the forest, even into Hagrid's cabin before the obvious occurred to her.
The Quidditch pitch was almost completely empty, except for three blonde figures at the very opposite end of the pitch, and Astoria stopped, panting hard. She had run so fast for so long she felt like vomiting, but she needed to keep moving.
She walked very slowly, as calmly as she could, towards them. They were whispering to each other, clearly in heavy debate; none of them noticed her until she was close enough to touch them, and even then it was only Narcissa who saw her; her eyes widened, but she said nothing. Both Lucius and Malfoy had their backs to Astoria, arguing in low voices.
Astoria cleared her throat.
"Malfoy."
She had never seen anyone go so stiff so fast. Lucius turned, startled, his eyes widening at the preeminently Muggle-looking person standing in front of him, and Astoria stared him in the eye for a moment before glancing at Malfoy again. He hadn't turned around.
"I'm sorry, but –" Narcissa looked cold and angry. "Who are you, exactly?"
"Astoria Greengrass." Astoria replied. She raised an eyebrow, and didn't offer a hand; neither did Malfoy's parents. "I think I've heard about you a few times. You probably haven't heard about me, though. He's not very talkative."
He still hadn't turned around.
Astoria scowled. "For God's sake, Malfoy, don't make me break your nose again."
"Why, exactly, are you threatening my son?"
"Because he won't look me in the eye and prove he actually heard me." Astoria shook her head. "I had to break into Madam Malkin's to Floo here, and you're not even looking me in the eye."
A look of recognition flickered over Narcissa's face. "But then you're –"
"You didn't flee the country."
That was Malfoy. Both Narcissa and Lucius turned to stare at him, Narcissa frowning slightly. Astoria shook her head, trying not to laugh hysterically.
"Would you, if you only had forty-eight hours to do it and can't even Apparate?" When he still didn't turn, she stowed her wand away in her pocket. "Can't you even look at me now?"
Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned. Astoria saw the burns on his hands before she saw his face, and had opened her mouth to ask him what the hell he'd done to himself, but suddenly couldn't find her voice. The utterly shocked expression had stupefied her.
"You didn't run." He repeated, studying her carefully, from her now streaked hair to the boots she'd bought at one of the Muggle shops. Astoria shook her head slowly, reaching out with one hand; her fingers grazed his cheek, and Malfoy remained absolutely still, as though completely disbelieving her existence.
"What do I have to run from, now?"
He reached up, touched her hand, and Astoria seized his, lacing their fingers together. She didn't move forward, or speak any longer; she simply stood there, looking at him, breathing the air that would never be fouled by the Dark Lord again, and the world fell away.