Dose of Your Own
By: OurLoveIsForever
Chapter Eight: Drunk
A letter from home used to be a highlight of my week. Back when I attended Hogwarts, I awaited word from my parents as I awaited Christmas. Now, I dreaded letters. They were often ignored as I just threw them in the bin before even opening them. Some were howlers sent to degrade my very existence. This was something I had expected during the few days following the Parkinson Dinner Party.
Astoria,
You will be present at your sister's wedding in two weeks. I will not tolerate your absence. You hold a responsibility to your sister. Your dress will be sent to you as Daphne is very troubled with your disposition as of late. Do not disappoint her, Astoria.
On another note, I have discovered that during this time your mother has been siphoning money to you in aid for housing. This has stopped as you will have noticed. You know well enough that in the Greengrass by laws, you are not to be supported by Greengrass funds. I wish you good will with furthering yourself in whatever career field you have managed to fit into.
I have also encountered some rumors floating around in parlors and dens. If you continue to socialize with Nott and Malfoy, I will not be pleased. They were traitors to the cause. Men not to be trusted. Choose your company carefully as it will reflect on the Greengrass name.
Regards,
Gregor Greengrass
If I didn't know my father, I would think it was a joke. Sadly enough, it was no humorous thing. My money had been cut off. Not only that, but I was still expected at the Pucey and Greengrass wedding in two weeks time, which I didn't understand in the slightest. The only explanation I could fathom would be Daphne was desperate.
Even for that, I knew that I would be attending despite myself. Somewhere deep down, I loved my sister. She was my family. I wished at times that I could disconnect from them entirely but I always came back to the same thing. Blood is thicker than water. While leaving and detaching myself was an option, it was not achievable.
"Tori?"
I folded the parchment, slipping it into my pocket. "Yes, Mr. Tatting?"
"Your assistance is needed in the gallery."
Gathering the fabric I had been sewing into my arms, I stepped into the bright showroom. I hadn't spoken to Nott since the night of the party. Late that evening, well past midnight, he had taken me back to my flat. Something about his demeanor had changed when I returned to the dining room after my run-in with Pucey and Malfoy. He seemed more reclusive, withdrawn.
"Nott?" My voice was worried and slightly frantic. Nott leaned in the doorway to the small outside waiting room. His eyes looked tired and worn. I could just imagine him toppling over with fatigue. "Nott?"
He stumbled inside, his expression became cold. "Draco," he mumbled as I ran forward to catch him. "Astoria?" Nott dropped like a ton of bricks. I failed to hold him aloft. We sunk to the burgundy of the carpet. I could smell the liquor on his breath.
"Nott?"
"Draco…his father…go."
I stared at him, not comprehending. Glancing desperately around, I noticed sitting across the room from me, his eyes on us. Shaking my head, I pulled my arms from underneath the man in my lap and allowed him to lay flat on the floor. "Nott, you're not making sense."
"Draco's father, Astoria. He's been killed." I jerked my head up. That wasn't possible. Lucius Malfoy had simply been given a long stay in Azkaban. How in the world could the Ministry change their ruling so suddenly and without a fuss from the pureblood clans? "The prat is destroying the Manor. He won't listen to me." He chuckled drunkenly but his laughs turned into coughs. I helped him to sit up. "He never would listen, even when we were younger."
"He's always listened to you." I responded, trying to return him to the calm Nott I was used to.
His head shook back and forth. Dirty blonde hair fell into his eyes. "Only when he wants to…"
"Tori, is everything alright?" Tatting asked from where he sat. Obviously not!
I nodded. "I'll get him out of here now."
"That's quite alright. The young man is welcome to stay. He's a Nott after all. Who am I to turn him down?" I watched as the big man ran a hand roughly over his jacket, smoothing it down. "I think perhaps a spot of tea will do him some good. Perhaps some hangover potion too?" With seemingly nothing more to say, he disappeared into the back room.
Nott watched me, his lids half-open. I wondered just what had happened. I could only imagine Malfoy in a rage. My heart ached for him. I would never understand how he must have felt to lose his father so suddenly. It must have been painful.
"Go stop him."
I froze. He had to be kidding.
"He listens to you."
"He insults me."
"That's more attention than he gives most people." Nott rolled his eyes. "I'm of no use to him right now. No one will be."
Shaking my head, I refused. "So what is the point? I'm not going."
"Then you only prove what a truly bitchy and cold woman you really are. I understand becoming numb but Astoria, someone needs to stop him. I trust you to do what is right. He's your fri—"
My eyes widened as I stared down at him. He was drunk. That was the only bit that made any sense: Theo Nott was drunk. Even that had its logical problems, Theodore Nott never got drunk. He had told me so himself. Apart from that, Draco Malfoy and I were far from being friends. Daresay, we were enemies and yet, Nott trusted me to help Malfoy? Draco Malfoy did not need my — Grey eyes flashed in my mind, bare of all pretense; hurting, pain, wit, beauty…
I couldn't understand why I was standing or why I was running toward the back room. I couldn't grasp the reason for my heart racing so fast. Nothing made sense at that moment. Grabbing my cape, Tatting cleared his throat. "I have to take some time off."
"Certainly, Tori," he smiled. "What are you going to do with Master Nott in there?"
"He will be well enough to return to his home soon." I began to run out the door. "Thank you." I got the last bit out before kneeling beside Nott. He was swimming between consciousness and unconsciousness. "I may die doing this." I said in all seriousness.
"He won't hurt you…that badly."
Rolling my eyes, I pulled my cape over my shoulders and sighed. "Take yourself home." Under my breath as I walked outside I muttered. "I wonder how I ever got mixed up with the two of you."
Malfoy Manor looked peaceful enough from the outside. I had never been to the house before, but I could not imagine how large it was. As I approached up the lane, I arrived at wrought iron gates. Nott had not mentioned this! There would surely be wards in place. What had I been thinking? This would certainly be a death mission. I still could not understand why I was standing four feet from the Malfoy grounds.
Slowly, I outstretched my hand to touch the metal. When my fingertips touched the iron, I was sent flying, landing nearly twenty feet away, my bum hurting and pain shooting up my back. "Bullocks!" I half shouted, running up to the gate again. Pulling my wand from my robes, I tried the only password I could think of: "Pureblood". Nothing happened. I curse again and considered for a moment simply leaving. If I did, Nott may have been drunk enough to neglect remembering his visit to me. I could let Malfoy handle himself. It was his business anyway. Who was I to interfere?
"It is my business. You see, Lady Greengrass is under my protection."
I blinked once, twice.
"…under my protection."
His voice, those words hit me like the Hogwart's Express. I clutched my wand tighter and waved it toward the gate. "I am Astoria Laverna Greengrass, descendent of Gregor Greengrass and Caridwyn Selwyn. You will grant me permission to enter these grounds for I bear no ill will to your masters." There was no reaction to my demands. It remained shut.
Growing frustrated, I went to shake the gates. My hands slipped through the iron as if it were smoke. I stared for a moment. Was it possible that my attempt had worked? Hesitantly, I stepped through. The next moment, I was standing in the Manor elaborate grounds.
Everything was so ornate, so grand. To my right were rose bushes, green grass, and various bushes. Such a beautiful garden it was! To my left, as I moved forward toward the grand doors, I noticed an illustrious fountain. Gold inlay and marble made the water sparkle with the light of the setting sun.
As I drew nearer to the door, I began to hear crashing and thundering within. He was in a rage. This was no sick Nott joke. Draco Malfoy was tearing the Manor apart. Casting an unlocking charm on the door handle, I gently went to ease the heavy thing open. With nothing blocking the sound, I could hear everything; fine china breaking, glass tinkling, the crashes of furniture, the sound of breaking wood. My boot heels hit the marble flooring before I stepped onto the refined carpet. The entryway was majestic in its own right. Marble in every direction. As I glanced this way and that, my eyes landed on the open parlor doors. Lady Malfoy stared out at me.
She stood from the beautiful white couch and appraised me as if trying to place a name with the face. "Miss Greengrass?"
A loud bang emitted from upstairs. She seemed so used to it that she didn't react at all.
"I've been sent by Theodore Nott." I said as if that would explain why I had practically broken into her house.
Narcissa Malfoy nodded her head. At that moment, I saw the look in her eyes. Complete defeat, every glimmer in her eyes illustrated her crushed spirit. Her husband was dead and her son was tearing her home asunder. "He's upstairs. I believe he is in the study." With no interest in my reaction, she sat back down. Her fingers grasped a small frame. I didn't bother to see the picture within. I could guess well enough.
The stairs felt longer than they appeared. As I passed, portraits that could speak told me to stop the wild boy from ruining their estate. I ignored them. The vile men were concerned only for their age-old homestead. At the pinnacle of the staircase, I turned to the right, approaching the source of the din.
A thick oak door stood between the racket and I. Within I could imagine Malfoy throwing items at the walls, unthinking. His silver eyes were wild. I could see them in my mind as well.
Gathering the remainder of my stupidity, for that was what all of this was: absolute madness, I slammed my closed fist on the door. "Malfoy, are you in there?" It was a dumb question as I knew he was.
Inside, the noise continued. He was ignoring me or he hadn't heard me, I would tolerate neither. I beat my hand against the door again, harder this time. "Malfoy, you better bloody answer this door!"
Abruptly, the house went silent. In the distance, the quiet cries of Narcissa Malfoy could be heard. For my own composure, I blocked her out. I didn't need to be distracted, not with a raving prick losing it just inside.
"What the hell are you doing here, Greengrass?" Came the angriest voice I had ever heard in my life. That was saying quite a bit. My father had an evil voice when he was furious. Draco Malfoy's voice was a mix between mad and livid.
I resisted the urge to put my hands on my hips. "Nott came to me, drunker than Satan. He told me to calm you down even if it involved petrifying you." I lied slightly for emphasis.
"Leave."
Sighing, I shook my head. "I can't do that. Your mum is downstairs, Malfoy. She's crying because her husband is gone and her son is tearing her home to shreds." Tapping my wand on my open palm, I continued. "That's not to mention, I have never seen Theodore Nott drunk."
"That doesn't mean anything!" He shouted. "You've not been friends with him but three months! What makes you think you know him? What makes you think you can come in here? Get out!"
"No. Malfoy, I understand that you're in a lot of pain—"
"Go away."
"I don't know what you feel—"
"I don't feel anything!" He roared through the door. Something slammed to the ground within the room so hard that I could feel the vibrations under my feet. I kept my fear from rearing its ugly head. If I didn't, who would?
"As long as you stay in there, I will remain out here."
"See if I care!" He shouted back.
I felt my own anger rising quickly. If I lacked much of anything, it was patience. I had dealt with my sister for years. After our blow-out fight, I thought I would be done with shouting. No such luck, now I had Malfoy shouting through a door. My annoyance reached its peak, making my stomach curdle. "You know what Malfoy?" I waved my wand at the door. It burst open to reveal a blond, pale young man standing just inside, a picture frame in his right hand. His eyes were feral. I had never seen anything like it. Everything about him screamed 'danger', from his stance to his ripped white-button shirt, it all sent out the warning to stay away. I ignored that warning and stepped further into the room. My chest heaved in great breaths, trying to remain somewhat calm. "If you want a punching bag, Malfoy, have at!" I stretched my arms out. "Perhaps that's all I am good for anyway, right? You need to let out those emotions? Let them out! I can't understand what you are going through! I don't even know what happened! All I know is that Nott trusted me to come here!"
His eyes widened just enough for me to notice. Anyone other than a Slytherin would have lost that small bit of information. From it I could read his reaction: he was shocked. For a long time, we simply stood there, as we had several times before, staring at each other. His knuckles were white with his death grip on the frame. I didn't bother to look at his hands. Instead, I kept my gaze on his.
So many mysteries lay beyond those pools of liquid metal. Every fleck of light within them seemed to be mixed with so many different emotions. For all those emotions, I could not read a single one. Anger, misery, confusion, desperation, and hate, all were directly on the surface, but beyond that I saw pain, fear and deep hurt. All too unexpectedly, I realized I was in way over my head.
How could I help him when I could barely help myself?
Albeit, I didn't wallow in self-pity. In that aspect, I was Slytherin to the core. I could place those feeling of neglect and hate into a box within my mind. I would seal the box and stash it away. If Malfoy, a master compartmentalist, lost control, how could I expect to help?
What had I been thinking when I left Twilfit and Tatting's?
Why did I want to help?
The onslaught of questions distracted me from his approaching form. I didn't notice him until he stood only a foot from me, the frame fell to the floor. I couldn't read him. In my fear from that fact, I braced for an attack. My eyes closed in my preparation for a coming pain that I knew I could not stop.
Instead of a curse or spell, or the pain of a punch, I felt a warm sensation wrap around me. My eyes flew open.
This is impossible, I thought.