Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR.

Dose of Your Own

By: OurLoveIsForever

Chapter Five: Escape

The room seemed to grow darker and darker with Malfoy's demeanor. I could feel goose-bumps rising on my arms with the intensity of it. "To hell with everything! I won't come here again if she remains here for one more minute!" He cried indignantly, pinning me down with a petulant glare. "Nott, honestly, she looks like a house elf." Nott seemingly ignored him, taking the tea pot into his hands with a certain grace only he possessed. I watched the exchange from the opposite couch. The two of them were evenly matched. It was almost comical. Nott didn't even need to respond verbally, he said everything in one single expression. "Away with the house elf!"

"And you look like a ferret, so what exactly is your point?" I remarked, graciously taking the tea Nott handed to me. "I no more want to be in your presence than you want to be in mine, but I shall deal with my urge to vomit whilest around Mr. Nott here."

Nott gave me a curt nod, bemusedly glancing between us. I fake gagged just to piss Malfoy off. He slammed his teacup into its saucer, but in the process spilled a bit of the tea on his grey pants. "Shite!" He exclaimed jumping up. I snorted, shaking my head. "Shut the hell up, you bloody shrew."

"You first, ferret!"

He didn't respond, too preoccupied with casting a cleaning spell on his pants to fling another insult my way. Sighing, I turned toward the other direction. Nott gave me a grin before standing. I shook my head reading his intentions clear as day. "I have to send an owl. I just remembered that Blaise was expecting me tonight. I should tell him to not expect me until morning." He moved so quickly from the room that I didn't have time to curse him out or better yet, to hex his deserting ass.

We sat in bitter silence, neither willing to bow to the oppressiveness exerted by the other. The thickness of the atmosphere was bloody palpable.

I had never been the one to sit in awkward silences. Silence itself did not bother me. In fact, I quite enjoyed it, but this silence was filled with an uncomfortable air. A strange tension was building as the time drug on and on.

It had been an hour since my panic attack in the secret annex off the Nott parlor. We had left the room, Nott's hands steering my shoulders toward the exit, as if I couldn't figure it out myself, toward Malfoy's angry call. He had proceeded to call me every name in the book, looking for any sign of my caring.

He didn't succeed.

He never would, I thought.

"So, why did you go crazy all of a sudden?" Why did he feel the need to ruin a perfectly uncomfortable silence?

"Is that really any of your business?" I didn't bother to look at his pale features. I knew it would only serve to anger me.

"No," he said, disinterestedly. He slumped in the chair, as if bored. All of a sudden, his nails became very interesting to him. "I was just wondering so that next time I could be there to see more of it."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really?" I huffed, repositioning so that I was facing him. "You know, I was fairly proficient at Transfiguration. Perhaps you would like to remember what it is to be small, white and furry." I smiled coyly, fingering my wand. I was actually rather horrid at Transfiguration, but he didn't know that, did he? "But I don't claim to be an expert so it is entirely possible that I could make a mistake…"

Malfoy sneered. "Bitch."

"Oh good, I haven't heard that one before, jackass."

"Whore." Indeed, I thought sarcastically.

"Cacafuego." I shot back, holding back my laughter at his confused face.

"'Shit fire?'"

"Someone who boasts about being the best when they clearly aren't." I answered, rolling my eyes. "You."

"You know, talking with you makes me fear death even less."

"Glad I could be of some service to help cure that extreme cowardice of yours."

We fell into silence again. This time, it seemed more charged. Once more we were stuck in a situation where neither would back down. I kept my jaw set and my eyes staring forward. His grey eyes glared from the other side, his arms crossing over his broad chest. In what seemed like no time at all, Nott returned. "Draco, I just received word." I turned slightly to see Nott in a rather miserable state. His eyes were wide and wild. His hair was a mess. At once, I stood. Something was very wrong.

Malfoy's face turned ashen at the tone of Nott's voice as he also turned to the man in the doorway. "Well?"

Nott gave me an apologetic glance before: "There has been a breakout at Azkaban."

My desk was littered with pages upon pages of requests, acceptances, and declines. Mostly declines. How they expected me to be able to sort through it all was well beyond me. There had to be at least four hundred parchments. The stack continued to grow with each passing minute. I barely had time to wave my wand before another flew into my lap. Damn it all to hell! What was going on?

"Greengrass, I need you in my office. Now." A booming voice called out of thin air.

I sighed. "Oh, bugger off, you old git!"

With a wave of my wand, everything froze. My bones ached as I stood, straightening my knees for the first time in hours. I tried to make my appearance fairly appropriate, but I felt as if there would be no chance of that happening within the century so upon arriving at my boss's door, I surrendered, allowing my hair to fall over my shoulders once more.

I knocked twice.

"Come in."

Entering, the smell of cigar smoke nearly made me choke. It was clearly visible even in the magically filtered air. "Sir?"

Without pretense: "I must ask you: did you change any of the approvals regarding Azkaban? What with your ties to former Death Eaters, I must know."

My anger flared. "Sir, I have no ties to former Death Eaters."

Mr. Duncan rummaged through some papers with his fat fingers. "Excuse me, a Mr. Draconis Malfoy and a Mr. Theodore Nott, am I correct?"

"I've been Watched?"

He harrumphed, his mustache twitching at my question. I couldn't even comprehend my own anger. I had never felt so violated in my life. "It is a necessary evil, Miss Greengrass. Now, please, answer the question."

"No."

"Excuse me, but which question are you answering?" He asked, a puzzled look in his beady eyes.

I heaved a great breath, realizing that within moments I would have no way to support myself. I would likely end up destitute and living on the streets within weeks. Even for that, I would not answer such stupid questions. I would not bow to a corrupting Ministry. "No, I refuse to answer your questions."

"You do realize that by refusing to answer, you will be signing your own resignation?"

I rolled my eyes, losing all false respect I held for my 'senior official'. Allowing my tone grow truly disrespectful, I spat. "I'll do you one better, Mr. Duncan. I quit."

With the defiance I had practiced for years, I strode out of the office, my head held high. People within the office glanced out of their cubicles curious of my reaction. When I saw a couple of them whispering, I gave them a rude gesture before stepping into my office. I magicked my bag to fit all the items within that small tomb of a workspace. A few pictures, statues, and knickknacks flew this way and that. I did not feel an ounce of regret. They could not force me to do anything!

"Miss Greengrass," a voice said from the doorway. I spun to see Mr. Duncan shutting the door. Reaching for my wand, he waved his hands in front of his face. "I understand your wary attitude of me, but please know that I mean you no harm. I am here to speak to you off the record."

"I don't trust you."

He shrugged. "That's well enough. I have done nothing to earn your trust." He coughed, waving his wand over the windows. A silencing spell. "I must say that I am impressed with your fortitude. With your current situation, it is outstanding."

"Sir, what's this about?" I wondered, leaning against my old desk.

Mr. Duncan shrugged, the buttons of his coat straining at the pressure. "I will not stop you from resigning. It will be the best under the circumstances. You are suspected of course, but considering those that escaped…it could hardly be you."

I shook my head. "Who was it, sir? The Daily Prophet has yet to print anything regarding the breakout. I guessed that the Ministry was keeping it hushed."

"The Carrow siblings, along with Crabbe and Jamison."

I couldn't breathe. That couldn't be possible. They had been imprisoned for nearly four and a half years. How could they have escaped? To make matters worse, how could the Ministry possibly think that I would- that I could- How dare they? "I would never let those sons of bitches out!"

He laughed jovially. "Good gracious girl, I know that. You think that I am the great buffoon, but I only use that persona when working. Now that you are no longer an employee, I can speak candidly with you. I trust you enough to know that you would never bring a threat like those monsters unto others." My heart swelled enormously and without even thinking, tears filled my eyes. "The Ministry is looking to place the blame while the Aurors track them down. I will not have that within my office so I say 'off you go'." With some amount of effort, he stood, offering me a sneaky smile. "Oh and Miss Greengrass…if I were you, I would make a run by Twilfit and Tatting's." I raised an eyebrow at him in question. "I hear that they're hiring." He gave a quick wink before stepping out of the room, his pompous expression in place.

Well, what do you know? I thought, making my final exit from the Department.

Twilfit and Tatting's was directly across from Gringotts, ironic considering they sold some of the most expensive items on Diagon Alley. It was magnificent, if you enjoyed golden embossed doorframes and ridiculous purple drapes. Upon stepping inside, it felt as if one had jumped into a rose bath. Scents attacked the nose from all directions. Perfumes and colognes of Tatting's own creation, I had been told years ago when shopping for a Christmas ball robe, fumigated the entire store.

A young woman bounded toward me, her blonde curls bouncing up and down as she pranced. "Hello, may I help you?"

"I'm Astori—"

"You have an appointment! Mr. Twilfit is waiting! Come." She took off toward the back of the store, leading me past beautiful gowns and robes of varying colors and varieties. We arrived at an ornate door. A star in the center had 'Jeremy Twilfit' across in bold letters. "Well, go on."

I knocked once before the door swung open. "Ah, Lady Greengrass, 'tis a pleasant surprise to see you once more!" It wasn't a surprise at all! I had an appointment. "Do come in, do come in. Have a spot of tea 'ere I interview you, my dear."

He was a very aged man surely well into his eighties, but he still walked completely upright. Cleanly shaven and fully dressed in the finest of attire, he resembled a butler I had once seen in a muggle film. His eyes were a glistening brown color which caught every ray of light. "Lady Greengrass, may I ask to what I owe this pleasure?"

I took the seat offered me, keeping my back in a trained straight state. "I am in need of employment, Mr. Twilfit. I was given word that you are in the market."

"Yes, yes, of course. Lady, may I ask what working experience you have? If you don't mind my curiosity, you are of pure-blood, should you not be planning some ball or gala event?" He extended a weathered hand to take the tea on the table. "I find it hard to believe that you are in such hurt for money. As a descendent of both the Greengrass and Selwyn, you should be very well taken care of…"

"It is true that there is an abundance of money attributed to the Greengrass name, but I have been relieved of my title. Of course, I am still in contact with my parents, but I am receiving little financial support."

"You will find that I am a very curious person, Lady. Why is that so?"

I nodded, seeing that pleasing Mr. Twilfit would be my only way to earn food for the week and onward. I hated to divulge any more than absolutely required, but when the situation called for itI was skilled enough at lying. "Sir, I chose to support myself. I was not very… pleasing to my parents regarding my views on the War. So I can only say that I am my own foundation." I gave him an incomplete truth, but it was enough.

He gave me an appraising glance. "I have heard that your secretarial skills are some of the best. Now, you will need to learn measurement, but I feel you are a well enough equipped to learn that quickly enough." I nodded. "You shall start. Methinks you will come to love working here." Twilfit inclined his head slightly. "There is but one stipulation. As we are a higher-end store, we need our employees to look their best. Therefore, this evening you shall return here at seven o'clock sharp. Leo will be here then and we will help you."

I nodded then stopped suddenly the words finally being understood in my mind. "Excuse me—"

"I know, my dear, I know. You are much too proud for your own good." He tutted, shaking his head. "The changes will not be drastic at all, but what choice do you have? With a history like yours, there is not much of an option, is there?" I considered this for a moment. Resigned, I bowed my head in agreement. "There's a good girl. Now, off with you!"

Tatting was a rather built man, which was something I had not imagined. He generally kept to the back rooms, magically stitching works of fabric that most could only imagine in their wildest dreams. Now, he sat in a straight-backed chair, taking generous swigs of black coffee.

I had entered the shop nearly ten minutes before Leopold Tatting had decided to grace me with his presence. Honestly, it I wasn't for my intense need, I would have left after five minutes of waiting. Patience was never my strong suit.

He had not apologized, nor even acknowledged that I was present. Instead, he busied himself with a rack of royal purple robes before ordering the bouncing blonde- also known as, Edith Wilson, as I had learnred, to pour him a spot of coffee.

Finally, he sat himself down across from me in a frothy pink chair. "Well, Tori, what can I do for you today?"

I raised my eyebrows nearly to my hairline. Never in my life had anyone called me 'Tori'! "Sir, my name is Astoria."

"Yes, I am aware of that fact. Thank you, but I much prefer nicknames. Now, answer my question please." I stared at him for a long moment before he sighed. "Wit beyond measure…cunning, indeed." I continued to gaze at him quizzically. This man truly made no sense. "Your hair is much too dull for your skin tone and your eyes. We will need to remedy this. As demonstrated, you have excellent posture. No doubt that is from your superior upbringing. If it wasn't for that hair of yours you would be quite the little minx."

No! Most certainly not! This irritating strumpet of a man was not going to touch my hair. End of story.

With a wave of his wand, in the most bored sort of gesture, my head felt as if it were under water. I yelped, throwing my hands into my hair. "I didn't agree to this! You will regret this!" It was all I could do to keep the screeching sound from entering my voice.

"You agreed as soon as you stepped into the shop this evening, my dear. I believe Jerry gave you fair warning. He always does." He sighed, taking another swig of coffee. "It will be over in a few moments time. After that, you will be a member of the Twilfit and Tatting's team."

The Wilson girl gave a tinkling giggle, rushing up to hold my hands to my sides. I leveled a death glare in her direction. How dare she? "Don't fret. I had the dullest blonde hair when I came to work here six years ago and now look at me." My eyes rolled. She looked like a dunce, in my opinion. With that much make-up, she could pass for my Aunt Moira. With that mask, she would have five husbands by the time she hit forty. For her skinny appearance, she was strong and I found that I could not escape.

Conceding the fight, I relaxed into the cushion of the chair.

"Lady Greengrass—" His tone was sarcastic, as if mocking me.

"Astoria, if you will…" I responded tiredly.

"LadyAstoria," I had a time trying to control my urge to laugh. This man was an old firecracker, he was. "I wonder why it is that I have heard of you before. I must say that I am rather well informed with the Pureblood gossip. I believe that on several occasions I have heard your name mentioned." He seemed to perk up a bit with his mention of parlor talk. I lazily opened one eye to inspect the man. Tatting had a single eyebrow raised with curiosity, his coffee half way to his lips.

I sighed. "I would imagine that word gets around rather quickly." I was referring, of course, to my disinheritance.

"I do not believe that we are referring to the same thing, miss."

I opened both of my eyes, just as the spell completed its job. My hair fell to my shoulders, trailing its way to my upper back. I caught sight of a strand in my peripheral vision. It was a deep chocolate brown, wavy and shining. My breath caught in my throat. There was no way! My heart skipping a beat, I took hold of the strand and pulled into my range of vision.

"—Draco Malfoy."

Snapping to attention, I let go of the hair and allowed it to slip past my shoulder again. "Excuse me?"

"Word is that you and Draco Malfoy are having quite the battle of wits." Indeed! Where had the social circles of Wizarding Britain heard that? "I heard it from Lady Zabini who had been speaking with Lady Bulstrode, who visited Lady Malfoy this past week."

I shook my head, trying to wrap my head around it. I didn't really care that my name was being spoken through the parlors of the wizarding upper-class, but I couldn't seem to write it off completely. Even for my attempts to push the irritated feeling down, it kept pushing its way to the surface.

Damn it all! "It would be my guess that Lord Malfoy has been propagating this rumor to continue assurance that he is ever the high and mighty!" I ground it out irately. "Damn wanker thinks he's the best thing since Merlin."

A grin broke on Tatting's face before he jumped up. "Well then, off with you, my dear. You start work early tomorrow, seven o'clock. We mustn't tire you too quickly. After all, you must keep that forked tongue sharp, right?" Before I could answer, I found myself outside in the deserted alley.

Forked tongue? Ha! With a slightly wicked smirk, I pulled my cape close. My hair caught the wind and whipped across my face. As I moved down the alley, slinking through the darkness, I realized that this was a new beginning, free of the ties from my past. I could grasp anything I wanted. Feeling a determined spring enter my step, for some reason I sang the House song in my head: …those cunning folk use any means, to achieve their ends.