So it turns out that I just can't stay away from writing for long. Just finished the longest fanfic of my life, and here I am again with another one. If you've read the last one, though, a warning up front: I will not be updating this one every day. I'll be striving for once per week, but expect schedule slippage. The breakneck pace I used for my last fic was exceptional and killing for my free time, and I can't do that to myself again.
I should also note that while I have a very vague idea of where I'm going with this story, I am a pantser through and through. I have no bloody clue how long this story will be. It'll be way short of 400k, I can tell you that. Anyway, enough rambling. Enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think about it, good or bad.
Chapter One: Ruled by Fear
Mum and Dad were crying, but Astoria wasn't sure why. Daphne might be able to explain, but she was nowhere to be seen. Strange…she was always there when Astoria needed something, always there to support her…so why wasn't she there now? She'd probably come back soon, right? …Right?
Stupid old memories. It had been years since that day. Astoria knew very well why her parents had been crying. If she'd understood then what she understood now, she would have been crying as well.
But it didn't matter anymore. Her parents were dead. She'd seen them dying, them and who knew how many others. There had been flames, and spells, and screaming, and so, so many people running, panicked, from the hooded and masked Death Eaters attacking them.
And yet, Astoria had lived. She had lived because of the miraculous cloak Mum had given her, just before the attack happened, that allowed her to hide in a corner, invisible, as the massacre raged around her…
She groaned in frustration. Yet more useless memories. The manor was eerily silent, and Astoria's watch told her it was three in the morning. Not that the time mattered much, though. The manor was always silent, as it had been ever since her parents died. Sure, Tuppy was around, if she really wanted someone to talk to, but beyond that there was no one.
She was fortunate, really; so many people out there were cooped up together, their own houses destroyed, their livelihoods gone, living either on the run or in shoddy complexes paying exorbitant amounts of rent, and she had an entire mansion all to herself, all because she was a pureblood from an old family.
And not only that, she was that family's last remaining member. And in their 'mercy', the Death Eaters had decided that she wasn't guilty of whatever transgressions Mum and Dad had committed. And as for Daphne…she just didn't know. After that one fateful day, Astoria had never seen her again. Her parents had refused to talk about her, and everyone else she knew seemed to have concluded that Daphne was dead, too.
But somehow, Astoria didn't think so. Her sister, wherever she was, was alive, she just had to be. The question, of course, was where she was. It was something Astoria had wondered, time and time again, and a question she kept returning to, especially at night when there was nothing to distract her.
She got up from her bed and went down to the dining room, where she just sat at the table without bothering to even turn on the light. She wasn't even sure why she'd gotten up in the first place. There was nothing to do.
It would be some days yet before school started again and she'd start her sixth year at Hogwarts. Another year of indoctrination. Was it even necessary, at this point? Yeah, the Ministry kept hammering on the importance of turning in suspected traitors and serving the Dark Lord to the best of your abilities, but it wasn't like there was much of a choice. Everyone who resisted got killed in short order. Voldemort was hardly the most forgiving person, even to the supposedly superior witches and wizards.
Especially here, in Britain, there just wasn't anyone left to fight him. All the battles were on the mainland, halfway through Germany and south of the Pyrenees in Spain. France, Belgium, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Denmark and parts of Sweden and Norway…all under the iron grip of Voldemort, their resistance beaten down, their Muggle population subservient to an enemy they could not see, could not fight. How the Statute of Secrecy still existed was beyond Astoria, but allegedly it did.
Of course, the Daily Prophet was under Voldemort's control, too. Perhaps the situation was more dire than the reports said, or maybe it was far better. She didn't know, and she certainly wasn't stupid enough to ask. She didn't really fancy being murdered for asking the wrong questions.
No, she'd simply shut up and fall in line. Keep her head down, live another day. But what for? In two more years she'd graduate, and what then? As a pureblood, she didn't need to work. Maybe she'd be forced to marry some other pureblood, and spend the rest of her life doing nothing but caring for the children and raising them to be good blood supremacists. And if the Death Eaters hadn't killed Mum and Dad and done Merlin knows what to Daphne, she probably might have.
Oh, the attack on the Ministry that day had been called a terrorist attack, but Astoria had been there. She'd seen the Death Eaters, seen the survivors being Obliviated so their stories would match the official reports. And even at thirteen, she'd known better than to act as if the attack had been anything but a terrorist attack. No one questioned her. No one even suspected that she alone remembered what had actually happened. But she remembered everything, even now, three years later.
Some days, she wished she'd been Obliviated along with the other survivors, that she could whole-heartedly believe in everything the Ministry said, but she wondered how many people truly did. More likely, they were just afraid. Even the pureblood families, though they still lived in their opulent mansions like the one Astoria herself lived in, weren't safe.
So many people in school had that haunted expression, that uncertainty of whether they'd ever see their family again or not. Headmaster Snape always assured them that, if they obeyed the Dark Lord's rules and studied well, nothing bad would befall them and their families, and for the most part it seemed to be true, but that threat, that menace, was always there, not helped by the Dementors that stalked the streets after dark, allegedly to hunt rebels.
And the Carrows, of course, didn't miss a chance to torture anyone who misbehaved even a little…and what constituted 'misbehaving' became more ridiculous by the year. So much for not spilling pure blood, apparently.
All in all, Astoria really wasn't looking forward to going back there. At least here, she wouldn't be subjected to arbitrary punishments for imagined violations of non-existent rules. But if she didn't go, she'd be carted off to Azkaban, pureblood or not. Truancy was a sign of rebellion, and that had to be stamped out.
Oh, they wouldn't kill her. They hadn't killed Francis, either. But Francis's hair had gone from brown to white in days, and he looked a hundred years older than he was, and while he'd been a boy who could see the bright side in anything, now he hardly spoke at all anymore. Daphne had been like that as well. She'd always been able to cheer Astoria up, no matter how bleak things got.
"Where are you?" Astoria said softly to the dark room.
There was no reply, of course. Tuppy only replied when she was called directly. Astoria sighed and put her head on her arms.
It was the sunlight falling onto her face that woke Astoria up, rather than the rhythmic tapping on the window, caused by a screech owl carrying a familiar envelope on its leg.
Astoria got up and opened the window, and the owl held out its leg. She gently took the envelope from the owl, which hooted in a dignified manner and took off again.
Without much interest, Astoria went over the list of school things she'd be needing, sighing deeply at this year's required Muggle Studies book, 'Mudbloods: An Analysis of Their Depravity'.
Where did they even find those books? Was Voldemort just ordering people to write more and more anti-Muggle books? Why? He had them thoroughly subjugated anyway. Whether people agreed with his opinions or not just didn't matter; no one had the power to stand up to him.
Once, a long time ago, there had been some hope, apparently, but it had been cruelly dashed and snuffed out before Astoria had even been born. Some wizard reportedly capable of beating the Dark Lord. Some hope he'd turned out to be. No one even knew his name.
She was about to call Tuppy to ask her to go and buy the necessary items, but it was a sunny day for a change, and she hadn't been outside for far too long. She might as well go and get her supplies on her own.
She quickly got dressed and Flooed over to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom, the old barman, looked a bit surprised to see her. He gave her a sad smile and inclined his head.
"Miss Greengrass," he said.
"Good morning," Astoria said softly, inwardly wincing at Tom's expression. Too many people looked at her like that. Better than hatred, sure, but still.
She headed into Diagon Alley, keeping her eyes focused straight ahead and ignoring the beggars who sat or lay against the storefronts. Not that they were dangerous — not anymore — but Astoria didn't need more reminders of how bleak life was. Voldemort kept promising a golden age for all true witches and wizards, when all his enemies had been ground into dust, but so far it really hadn't come to pass yet.
She checked her list and decided to get her robes first. While the exterior of the shop wasn't looking great, the interior of Madam Malkin's looked almost inviting, and since it was early, it was mostly empty.
"Good morning, dear," Madam Malkin said, giving Astoria the same kind of sad smile Tom had given her a bit earlier. "Here for school robes, I expect?"
Astoria nodded. "Yes, please," she said.
Madam Malkin began taking her size. "What year are you in, now?" she asked.
"This'll be my sixth," Astoria said.
"Oh, how did you do on your O.W.L.s last year, then?" Madam Malkin asked.
"All 'Exceeds Expectations' and 'Outstanding'," Astoria said.
"You don't sound very happy about that," Madam Malkin said anxiously as she measured the length of Astoria's arms.
"Not much to be happy about," Astoria said. "Read the books, cast the spells, brew the right potion, recite the ten most common slurs for Muggles, their origin, and why they're true…easy."
"Your teachers will be proud, I'm sure," Madam Malkin said with a fake-encouraging tone.
"Yeah. If I keep this up I might be Head Girl next year," Astoria said flatly.
"You'll be an asset to…whomever you end up marrying, I'm sure," Madam Malkin said.
Astoria could hear the edge of disapproval at that state of affairs in her tone, but didn't comment on it.
"What will be your N.E.W.T. subjects?"
"Charms, Transfiguration, Dark Arts, Muggle Studies, Potions, and Herbology," Astoria said.
"That's going to be a very busy year, then."
Astoria merely nodded. She knew that Madam Malkin's small talk was essentially just a part of her job, but she was already beginning to wish she'd sent Tuppy to get everything done instead.
School was neither interesting nor important. All the subjects were jokes, because all anyone learned was the most basic of spells. As far as she knew, people were taught whatever they needed to know for their profession later, on the job.
It seemed like a waste to spend years that were meant to be focused on education learning nothing but elementary magic, but of course, Hogwarts's main purpose was propaganda, not the dissemination of knowledge. It was meant to make everyone pliable and obedient, not skilled. Why give people skills beyond their usefulness, anyway? That would only increase the odds of them rebelling.
It had been different once, when Hogwarts had actually offered high-quality lessons, but since Voldemort's ascent to power, that had vanished completely. With her robes paid for, Astoria made her way to Flourish and Blotts, on the windows of which were large purple posters.
WARNING: REBELS ACTIVE!
Rebels affiliated with the so-called 'Forest Lions' are active in the London area. If spotted, alert the Ministry immediately. They are extremely dangerous and should NOT be engaged. Avoid contact at all costs. ANY CONTACT WITH THESE REBELS WILL BE SEEN AS TREASON.
How would anyone be able to help it if a rebel attacked them, anyway? Did fighting back in such a situation count as 'contacting' that rebel? Did that mean your options were getting killed by the rebel, or being executed for treason?
What was Voldemort even afraid of? It wasn't like anyone could fight him. Albus Dumbledore had tried and failed, and with his death people had just lost hope altogether.
But the name 'Forest Lions' rang a bell, somehow. Maybe they'd been in the news before, or something, Astoria didn't really remember.
She purchased her books and went on to buy ingredients for Potions next, but before she'd even taken a few steps outside of Flourish and Blotts, someone ran into her at great speed, knocking her over.
"Out of the bloody way," someone snarled, and Astoria was astonished to see it was a girl not much older than her, dressed in Muggle clothes.
She had flaming red hair, fierce brown eyes, and a scar that ran from the bridge of her nose diagonally down her face and even onto her throat. In one hand she had a wand, in the other, a bag of money. She glared angrily at Astoria, as if it had been her fault they'd crashed into each other, fired a spell over her shoulder, and then sprinted away in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.
A few moments later, two wizards came running up to Astoria, who'd gotten back to her feet.
"Where did she go?" one of the wizards demanded.
"Over there somewhere," Astoria said, gesturing in the direction of Knockturn Alley. "I didn't really see properly; she ran into me. You better get her for this!" she added as indignantly as she could. She should at least act the part of haughty pureblood.
"Don't worry, we will," the second wizard said angrily, and he and his partner set off. Why they didn't just use a tracking spell of some kind was beyond Astoria, but maybe they simply didn't know how to cast one.
As she watched the two wizards sprinting in the wrong direction, she wondered why she'd lied in the first place. The girl hadn't exactly been friendly, after all, and that bag of money had probably been stolen. But then, everyone just did what they had to to survive. If she was Muggleborn, she'd be killed if they caught her. But if she was, then what did she need money for, anyway? Probably better not to worry about it. Hopefully, the girl would manage to get away.
Astoria finished her shopping and Flooed back home, where her eye fell on a two-day-old Prophet on the table, bearing the headline 'FOREST LIONS STRIKE AGAIN!'
So that was where she'd seen the name. She put her bag of school supplies on the table and began to read the article.
The subversive group calling itself the 'Forest Lions' has once again attacked Ministry employees who sought to provide aid at the Rehabilitation Center in London, after an altercation broke out between patients and their caretakers.
The Forest Lions broke down the walls of the courtyard, injured several caretakers and Ministry employees, and abducted several of the Center's patients. The Center aids patients in their recovery after magical injuries for which St. Mungo's lacks the capacity.
These patients require highly specialized care, and the actions of the Forest Lions put their wellbeing into serious jeopardy, as well as causing many Galleons worth of damage to the facility itself.
The Ministry urges people to come forward with any information that might lead to the arrest of the Forest Lions involved in this attack, and the recovery of these vulnerable patients.
Astoria put down the paper. Disregarding the obvious lie about what the Rehabilitation Center truly was, the account seemed to be surprisingly truthful. Perhaps Astoria's own dark feelings had made her too certain that there wasn't any hope anymore, because it seemed that, contrary to her expectations, there was still at least one group of people resisting Voldemort. And since the Rehabilitation Center mostly held subversive people, this attack had probably been their way of swelling their ranks by freeing people who, for one reason or another, were against the regime.
She frowned. That girl who ran into her…had she been in the Rehabilitation Center? Was she a Forest Lion? But she'd been so young…surely, she'd just been a runaway, or something, or a pickpocket. Maybe she was a truant and on the run.
What did it matter, anyway? In a few days, Astoria would be back at Hogwarts, and that girl would end up Merlin knows where, but hopefully not in the clutches of the Ministry. That's where Daphne had ended up, for whatever reason.
At least, that's what Astoria thought. After Daphne's disappearance, her parents had always gotten angry at the mention of the Ministry, so they probably had something to do with it. What they could possibly want with an eleven-year-old girl was beyond Astoria even now, but Voldemort couldn't really be accused of any rationality.
She glanced at the article again. The first line said that the Forest Lions had attacked Ministry employees once again. How often had they done that in the past? Had they been active around the time Daphne disappeared? Would they know what happened to her?
Astoria knew that these questions were stupid. It had been seven years since then. What were the odds that any of the current Forest Lions would know if an eleven-year-old girl had been taken from the grasp of the Ministry, if Daphne had ever been there to begin with? But the idea was in her head, now, mixing with her belief, however irrational, that Daphne was alive somehow.
For nearly twenty minutes, she just stared at the article, thinking. If she'd go back to Hogwarts, nothing would change, and she'd end up forcibly married to someone the second she came of age — frankly, it was a miracle she hadn't been taken yet, but Voldemort at least seemed to uphold some rules arbitrarily, likely to show that his rule was legitimate — and then her life would be wasted.
If she went to look for the Forest Lions, she'd probably end up getting killed for it, but was that really so much worse than the life she was living now? She had money and a huge house, but no one to share any of that with. No one to share any form of happiness with. And she had that cloak. She could move around unseen, undetected…
She glanced at her school supplies and smiled wryly. It appeared she'd bought them for nothing…
A rather bleak first chapter to set the tone. Some clichés used, but hey, they became clichés for a reason. See you next time!