If I Lose Myself

by EMPG22HoPe

Chapter Seventeen: Astoria

April 1997

A great illness…

It's much worse than any kind of illness, child…

But it is dark, dark magic, I presume…

Very dark magic that not even the Dark Lord could have possibly conjured…

Old, dark magic…

And the Seer… the Seer who spoke of Cassandra's second child!

It is most commonly told that a female Greengrass is dangerous among the family…

The Seer… the things she's seen…

It was on a bleak Saturday afternoon when a certain witch gave a great gasp from a bed within the hospital wing. Its occupant, Astoria Greengrass, wretched and heaved large breaths after bolting awake at last from where she laid. Her eyes swept the space, feeling feverish as she fumbled for something in her clean, white robes. Memories of the time before darkness consumed her came flashing before her eyes.

The pensieve… Cassiopeia and Hyperion Greengrass… Aunt Cressida…

"Astoria!" came the loud cry of a familiar blonde Astoria had not even realized was beside her.

Daphne rubbed the sleep off her eyes furtively as she scrambled to sit on the side of the younger Greengrass's bed. "Oh, thank Merlin you're alright! I thought we'd lost you and—oh, Astoria!"

Astoria was pushed back by the great force to which Daphne had entrapped her in a tight and sobbing hug. She patted the blonde's back carefully, shushing her gently before Daphne finally pulled away; tears streaming down her bright, green eyes.

"How long have I been away?" Astoria croaked weakly, feeling her throat close up in dryness.

Daphne hurried to take the empty goblet on Astoria's bedside table, muttered a quick Aguamenti before offering it to her. As Astoria took large, grateful gulps of the water, Daphne answered her.

"It's been a month, actually! You woke up just in time. It's Easter in two weeks' time. Mum and dad wants us to come home, especially you. Mum was livid you hadn't been sent to St. Mungo's like that Katie Bell girl. She was worried sick!" Daphne's reply came in rapid-fire words, as if bursting with all the information of a single month to explode. "Mum and dad came, of course, but they're back at home. They just visited you last week and brought you some sweets! Dad's even thinking we shouldn't attend Hogwarts next year with all that's been happening—"

"Alright, slow down, Daph. I'm alright now, see?" Astoria jested softly, now being able to speak her normal, though weary, voice as she offered a little smile. "I don't know what's happened, though. Could you please tell me? One minute I was with Professor Dumbledore, just leaving Aunt Cress's pensieve memory when I suddenly blacked out."

"Oh, it was dreadful!" Daphne said tearfully as she wiped away her wet cheeks with a hanky. "When Dumbledore brought you here a month ago, you were green all over. You were producing symptoms of both dragon pox and Spattergroit! You had purple pustules all over your face and your skin had green and purple rashes! We thought, oh goodness." Daphne sobbed some more before she went on breathlessly. "We thought you were done for! But mercy, you've only had those symptoms for a week. Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey's potions worked like a charm, but you weren't waking up. I thought, I really thought we lost you…"

Daphne cried into her hands, unable to meet Astoria's gaze. Astoria felt her heart drop to her stomach. This was what she feared the most; worrying her family senseless with all these abnormal illnesses taking its toll on her. Even more so now that she's discovered what was truly behind her illness... well, not fully, but she understood the background of it all.

Once Astoria had let her sister recover, she immediately delved into telling her the memory that she saw in Dumbledore's pensieve. Daphne reacted seamlessly at all the right times, looking very frightful when she mentioned dark magic as if it was worse than the taboo of saying the Dark Lord's name.

Retelling the tale, and hearing herself say it out loud made it even more real than the pensieve memory she's seen. It was as if she could feel the walls closing in on her, dooming her to an eternity of the unknown of her illness. The only solution, the only end to it all, was—as she remembered—deadly. Whatever she had, whatever what was ailing her; she knew one thing's for certain: it would kill her.

That, perhaps, seemed to be the only detail she left from her story. Astoria couldn't bear to tell her sister that the very thing that's making her constantly sick would eventually lead to her death. She didn't have the heart to, when her sister looked so close to tears again simply hearing it all.

When she was finally through with her tale, Daphne looked stricken, mumbling aimlessly to herself—trying to repeat everything that Astoria had just told her. Her green eyes met similar green ones all of a sudden.

"Aunt Cress! Merlin, I've forgotten. She's written to you!" Daphne stood up once more to search the side table. "She's got one for me too, but I haven't opened yours."

This time, Astoria turned to find that table filled with boxes upon boxes of Honeydukes sweets, mostly from Luna and her parents. But there was one box that seemed to be untouched, collecting dust on top of its brightly colored lid. But before Astoria could reach for it, Daphne had blocked her view and plucked out a box of chocolate frogs with a piece of parchment taped on top of it.

"I tried to hide it from mum, you know. Just in case she decides to throw it out. Aunt Cress sent it the minute word got out about what happened in the Headmaster's office." Daphne explained before handing her the box.

Astoria looked at the parchment attached to the seemingly innocent box of chocolate frogs, afraid that if she did anything—something awful would happen. But she decided that she's been through worst, so she ripped the tape off the parchment and unfolded it with shaky hands before reading it aloud.

Astoria,

I owe you an apology for leaving so soon. I was just so scared, for my life and yours. But mostly mine. You have no idea the means your mother would go through to rid me from ever speaking to you and Daphne. I leave this letter to you knowing you deserve an explanation, especially after hearing all the rumors about what happened to you in Professor Dumbledore's office. You are in much danger than I most feared. Oh, if only your mother knew.

I have left Great Britain to seek better solace away from your mother. It's not just her I'm worried of, of course. I read the Daily Prophet. Things aren't looking so well, it seems. It's just like the last war, and it's only going to get worst. Assuming you've gone to Dumbledore to view my memories, I hope you still don't think ill of me. I only care for your safety as well as mine.

The pensieve memory your grandparents gave me is hidden in my vault at Gringotts. My spare key and permission slip is hidden inside the box of sweets I've sent you. When you have the opportunity, and if my prayers were to be answered that you wake before Easter, take the memory from the vault and see to it on Dumbledore's pensieve. I do not know what lies within that memory, but I can only hope it will enlighten you to find a way to rid yourself of this unfortunate predicament.

I do not know when I'll be back, but when I do, I promise you that I'd be much braver, and much stronger than your mother. Forgive me, and tell Daphne I'm sorry.

I love you and Daphne very much. Take care of yourselves.

Aunt Cress

Silence ensued between the two sisters as Astoria's eyes flitted across the parchment over and over; rereading the words as if she couldn't believe they even existed. She then hastened to lift the lid off her box of chocolate frogs, rummaging amongst the plastic covered sweets before feeling amongst them a roughly carved metal. Astoria extracted her aunt's Gringotts key and allowed it to shine under the afternoon sun that bled through the crossed windows of the hospital wing.

"It's really in there?" Daphne finally asked, staring at the key as though it were a dungbomb ready to set off. "The… the memory… the one our grans gave her?"

"There's only one way to find out." Astoria replied gravely before tucking the key back inside the box. After doing so, she took a frog, offered one to Daphne before ripping up the plastic off one of them.

Their frogs wriggled in their grasps but slackened when the two sisters bit off the heads silently.

"You know what this means, do you?" Daphne asked as she put her frog down, looking very determined now. "We can finally figure out how to get rid of this blasted illness of yours! There's bound to be an answer in there that the Healers never would have thought of, right?"

"I hope so," Astoria nodded as she quickly finished off her frog, ready to open another packet. "I'm just terrified of what I'll see. I mean, I haven't even seen the other memory Aunt Cress gave me. There were two. I only opened the first one, but I had collapsed before I could even ask to view the second one."

"Oh, I remember that! I took your robes back to your room. The other one's safely tucked in your drawer." Daphne said excitedly. "What do you reckon is inside of it?"

"I'm not sure. I'll find out soon once I get a word in with the professor." Astoria mumbled as she bit off the head of her frog once more.

Daphne nodded before her once bright look turned pale. The blonde bit her bottom lip as if desperate to say something, only to hold herself back—relieving herself into saying something else. "Draco came over, by the way."

Astoria nearly choked on her sweet, retching from the uninvited chocolate before she cleared her throat and looked at Daphne curiously. "What's he come over for?"

Draco Malfoy had not crossed her mind in a long time until now. In the entire month of which Astoria had been asleep, she had thought and dreamt of nothing but the memory that she watched—playing over and over again in her dreams. With the memory replaying, she tried her best to find a clue on what her illness could possibly be. But all she could think of was dark magic unforeseen to this day, and she reckoned none of the restricted section books would give her much comfort once she pursued her search for answers.

The last time Astoria spoke to Draco, it hadn't been one that was remotely pleasant. Whatever Draco couldn't tell her for the sake of saving her life bothered her until now. What was so revealing that Draco had to hide it to save her? It's not like she wasn't already in any danger on her own, what, with her unfortunate illness that crops up every now and then. A part of her just wished he could trust her with it. But she knew there was no point in persuading him once he's made up his mind.

She could only hope he was not in any serious danger the way she had suspected the moment she saw him at Diagon Alley before the start of the school year.

"He wanted to give you that," Daphne pointed at the box that had been collecting dust. It was smaller than all the others in the shape of an octagon. The blonde reached for it with disgust before handing it to Astoria.

Astoria blew off the dust away from Daphne. Once it's been cleaned off, Astoria couldn't help but smile sadly as she opened the lid. There were about six chocoballs wrapped in golden foil. The memory of Astoria offering him a chocoball during their first tutoring came to her, filling her with comforting warmth.

Resting upon the sweets was a small, vague but nevertheless comforting note with Draco's signature on it.

Feel better.

- DM

"He only came once to give you that. I reckon he comes along whenever I'm not around, but Madame Pomfrey reveals nothing." Daphne shook her head with a slight smirk on her lips. "You may have scared the living daylights out of him, but you sure left an effect that certainly rattled the egotistical prat in him."

Astoria sighed worriedly. "I just wish I knew what was going on with him. He looks really troubled and he's changed so much in the last few months… you know, physically. I'm really worried about him."

Daphne hummed in agreement before biting bits off her chocolate frog then scoffing in disdain, "Men. What a load of waffles."

Astoria's search for the answers to her unnerving illness had gone full throttle throughout Easter. Though, it was not without trying her first easier option, which was to withdraw the pensieve memory that her grandparents had given to Cressida from her aunt's Gringott's vault. It was much to Astoria's dismay, however, that she wasn't allowed to withdraw from another's vault, regardless if they had a permission slip, while she was underaged. Daphne doesn't turn seventeen until September, and thus—it was a dead end.

While she could have easily asked an adult, or even her father, to withdraw it for her—the permission slip was under her name, and thus, made it an impossible feat to retrieve the vial until two years later. Aunt Cress, apparently, had failed to mention that age restrictions were very uncompromising at Gringotts.

So she settled, for the time being, for books connecting to any ancient illnesses—spending most of her Easter money on books bought from book shops at Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, even after a week, it seemed just as much as a dead end as trying to withdraw the pensieve memory.

It was also in Easter that Astoria had hoped that once she came home that she would be a little more enlightened by her parents about Aunt Cress's pensieve memory once she's told them. A part of her hoped that they would see differently, that her mother would be a little more lenient with her than Aunt Cress. That, of course, she thought wrong on her mother's part.

When Astoria told her parents about the pensieve memory, Cepheus Greengrass seemed concerned and had given her some comfort that he would look into it further. If there was anyone more mastered with possessions of books regarding the dark arts, it was her father. Cassandra Greengrass was otherwise livid, even more so towards her husband. But if there was anyone that had a better hold of the family, it was her father. Her mother could do nothing but take it out on Astoria by berating her for believing Cressida.

The only thing that Astoria kept from her parents was the part where she possesses her aunt's Gringotts key to where the vial her grandparents passed on is hidden. A part of her felt that if she told her parents, especially her mother, they would interfere immediately—taking action and the vial for themselves. She felt that that vial to be her birthright. Although even if her parents attempted to possess the vial, it wouldn't open for them.

The vial, after all, could only be opened by the Greengrass unfortunate enough to inherit the illness.

"Cressida has been nothing but a curse to this family since day one," Cassandra hissed irritably as she shot the day's Daily Prophet down on the table one breakfast morning. "Astoria, dear, you have to understand that your aunt has done nothing but pile one lie after another in your head. Pensieve memory… what rubbish…"

"Lies?" Astoria asked defiantly this time. Over the course of her days at Greengrass manor, she has done nothing but become docile towards her mother's advances against Cressida. But that day seemed to have drawn the line for her, especially with her growing fever that's piqued since last night. "Who in their bloody right mind would lie about what I just told you? Do you have any idea what that sounds like? An illness contrived by dark magic. It checks out! The Healers don't know what's wrong with me because what's causing my illness… it's old magic!"

"No!" Cassandra slammed her fist on the table this time, causing Daphne, who sat beside Astoria, to cower back into her seat. "I will not have you speak of dark magic in this house! Your father may be lenient when he's here, but I forbid you to even think it even when he isn't! Your aunt has done nothing but ruin the very fabric of this family. No doubt that pensieve memory has been tampered with. Do you not realize how that's even possible?"

"I just think that it's so awfully convenient for you to kick her out when I started showing symptoms of my illness when I first came to Hogwarts!" Astoria stood this time, knocking her seat back loudly. "She knew! You knew. If you had just listened to her—"

"I will not be spoken to like this!" Cassandra bellowed haughtily this time, standing up. "Cressida and her conspiracies—"

"You're actually so narrow-minded to think she's protruding conspiracies?" Astoria replied scathingly. "This is my life, mother! Have you no shred of care for what could possibly be—"

"There is nothing to it!" Cassandra was red with anger. "Your immune system is simply weak, and that is the end of it. I will not consort to this wishy-washy tale of an ancient illness since the start of time. I refuse to believe it! Now, if you still wish to remain in this family—you will do as I say and drop this fantasy of yours and settle for more important matters!"

Astoria bit her tongue this time. It was quite natural for her mother to threaten to disown her. It wouldn't be the first time as Astoria had always been the very definition of a blood traitor—something her mother was quite ashamed of. Eventually, Cassandra dropped the idea of ever convincing her otherwise about how muggles and muggle-borns were scum—but there was a fire to her mother's voice now that indicated she meant this notion seriously.

"Mother, please," Daphne spoke this time, though with little conviction to her voice as it wavered. "If you could just see the memory… speak to Professor Dumbledore…"

Cassandra sighed tiredly, running a frustrated hand through her blonde locks. "Daphne, sweetheart, not you too. Look what you've done now, Astoria! You've corrupted your own sister as well. How much more damage can Cassandra do to this family?"

"The only damage this family has is your fanatical belief that your own sister is out to ruin us." Astoria replied impatiently, feeling her face burn. She was rarely angry at anyone, but if there was one person that truly made her blood boil—it was her mother. "If you don't believe me,then that's no longer my problem. But I am going to find out the truth one way or another. I refuse to sit around and put my faith on my own mother who cares little for my life."

Cassandra looked as if Astoria had struck her to the face. She paled briefly, her brows furrowing worriedly, "Astoria, of course I care for your life—"

"Please, spare me." Astoria spat as she turned on her heels this time, trudging angrily out of the dining hall. She spun briefly to give her mother one last scathing look. "First, Luna. Now this. When will it end, mother?"

A part of her was pleased to see her mother suddenly look as if she had lost the upper hand, but took no pleasure in it further—for Astoria had already left the room in search for more answers.

What was her illness? Why was it doing such horrible, wretched things to her? Was it a curse? Whoever had done it was no friend to the Greengrasses. And Astoria was going to find out who and what, one way or another. Even if it meant meeting death himself for the truth.

A/N: If you aren't already familiar: yes, we will be exploring the curious history behind Astoria's canonical blood malediction. I just quite hated how J.K. Rowling barely explained the reason behind her blood curse, but then again-that gives me fanfiction writers like me the freedom to imagine what it's like. Also, I'd like to apologize if anyone's noticing-though thankfully no one has complained yet-that the recent chapters have been lacking of Draco and Astoria-centric chapters. This story has always been intended to explore both their stories before, during and after the war; and I like being as precise and fair on each of their individual character developments. But fear not! Only a chapter or so more before they can finally speak to each other once more. :3

Do you have any theories as to what happened to Astoria's ancestor? And how genuinely sweet was it that despite everything that's happened between Draco and Astoria, Draco still had the heart to visit her? Let me know your thoughts in the reviews! Please make sure to favorite or follow this story if you enjoyed it and wish to receive more updates!

See you next week!
EMPG22HoPe