Dose of Your Own

By: OurLoveIsForever

Chapter Ten: Run

The wedding for my sister was fast approaching, being only three days away. I tried my hardest to keep my mind off the two men I hadn't seen in nearly a week and a half. I never attempted to contact Nott, thinking that he would not want to speak with me anyway. It was the truth, I suspected. I had said many things that evening that I was not particularly proud of. I wouldn't completely blame him if he decided cutting ties would be best. To keep thoughts of the whole fiasco at bay, I busied myself instead with work.

At Twilfit and Tatting's, business was booming. Many people were being wed with the growth of spring. Each day several women and men came in to be fitted for wedding garments. I measured them all, helping Tatting when I could with sewing and acting as a part-time 'housewife' as Tatting liked to joke. I would make food each night to bring in for the owners and the little pixie of a coworker.

"Tori!" I jerked my head up at the call of my name. I knew it was Tatting who called me to the front measuring parlor. He was the only person to ever refer to me by that name, after weeks of sarcastically calling me 'Lady Astoria'. "I'm in need of some assistance."

I slipped the needle and thread onto the table and sighing, made my way to the store-front. "Yes, sir?"

"Hello, there, Greengrass."

I smiled slightly, moving closer. "Blaise Zabini, how have you been?"

"Well enough." He grinned, raising his arm as instructed by Mr. Tatting. I strolled forward, dropping to my knees beside the large older gentleman. I helped him to place the pins, keeping Zabini stationary for a few moments as he couldn't seem to stop bouncing. He was nearly six foot three, alot of bulking mass when looking up from a crouch. His dredlocks were pulled back halfway by a black hair tie. It had been years since I last saw pull it back. Ususally it fell in his face, free and whimsical.

After about twenty minutes we had finished and allowed Zabini to change back into his usual robes. I could tell the ones he was measuring for were wedding robes. Daphne's wedding, no doubt. I cringed. Rain of fire would come down in two days time, I was sure of it, when I walked down that aisle.

"Mr. Tatting, I would like a word with her if you don't mind." Zabini said, exiting the dressing room. He messaged his neck as he fell into a bright pink chair. "How have you been?" His tone was different, strange coming from Zabini's lips. I furrowed my brows at him.

"Fine. Very busy as of late."

He sighed tiredly. "Does anything seem strange to you, Greengrass?" Looking him over, I noticed nothing save for the fact that his dreads had become longer. His head shook. "No, Astoria. Beneath the surface, I am surprised you did not pick this up sooner."

I gazed at him, taking in everything. Finally my eyes came to rest on his. There was a different fire there. It was not the passionate, charismatic Blaise Zabini, but rather the listless, engrossing stare of Theodore Nott that looked back at me. "Nott?"

"Certainly not, Greengrass!" He said as he nodded. He waved his wand over the room, silencing it.

"What in hell are you doing here?" I asked well confused. "I thought—"

Nott leaned his elbows on his knees resting his head in his hands. "I have the feeling that I am being watched. I get the intense feeling that you are being watched too."

"The Ministry—"

"No, Astoria. This is more sinister in nature. We took out their mole. He was a higher up in the Law offices, under the head actually. We tried our best to make the evidence point to accidental death, but they are not that daft. They are well aware that it was us."

"Us…" I felt my hands shaking as I tried hide them in my apron. "Who?"

"Draco, Blaise, and myself. We did it the day after you took off. I'll have you know that Draco was very shaken by your comments." I rolled my eyes, pretending to not care, but he threw up a hand. "No, Astoria, don't do that. He needed to avenge his father. The man was hardly innocent. I feel no shame for what I have done." I shrugged my indifference. Really it didn't bother me one way or another. "Draco didn't kill him though. The Carrows believe he did, but it wasn't him."

I said nothing, gathering the meaning from the look in his eyes. Nott had killed the man and not only that, he felt no remorse for it. He seemingly felt only apathy. I couldn't understand why I was not shaken by the fact that I was in a small room with a murderer. I supposed that murder was neither here nor there if it concerned revenge. At least, to my mind, there was a difference. A life for a life. Not only that. The Nott that stared at me wasn't even close to the nearly carefree man I knew from the bar. He looked haunted.

"The man came to my home citing that I was being served for aiding and abetting the escape of the Carrow siblings, Crabbe, and Jamison along with the attempted escape of Malfoy Senior. Luckily, Draco had spent the night in my home. Blaiseand Greg had come over to plan. A duel commenced. Astoria, I—" He looked as if he wanted to apologize, to ask foregiveness. The only thing I couldn't understand was why he wanted to ask me for it.

"I'm just glad you're alive." I murmured, nodding. "Really, I am." I raised my head to see him staring at me. "I'm glad you killed his traitorous ass." What was even stranger, I honestly meant those words. Kill or be killed. It was the monstrous way of the world.

"Come back with me. I've a bad feeling, so does Malfoy. You need to come." He pushed off his knees and stood. "I've already spoken with Tatting. He knows the situation."

"I can take care of myself, Nott. I've been doing it for years." I replied confidently, shaking my head at his nervous demeanor. It wasn't as if the Carrows would come after me personally. They had no vendetta, no reason.

"That was before there was a risk to your life." His tone was condescending.

Growing impatient, I placed my hands on my hips. "And just why would they be after me? I've done nothing to warrant their attention."

Nott's eyes fell to the floor. He mumbled something incoherently.

"I'm sorry?"

He jerked his head up. "They think that you and I are romantically involved, I think."

At the panicked expression on his face, I burst into laughter. Here was a man that had committed murder, albeit in self-defense, and he was nearly blushing because two crazed Death Eaters thought we were together. "Bit of ridiculous notion, isn't it?"

He shook his head, Zabini's dreads flinging this way and that. "It's neither here nor there, Greengrass."

"Indeed," I agreed. "It doesn't change my answer though." Shrugging, I turned to move out of the room. As I did, I felt a tug on my ponytail. Nott stood behind me. "I suggest you get going, Zabini. I will be fine enough. I suppose that I will see you at my sister's wedding, right? That's a more immediate danger, don't you think?" His hand came to rest on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. "Be careful." Unable to stop myself as I stepped out into the main shop, I said, "Tell the Great Prat to be careful as well."

I hate weddings. I really do. All pomp and circumstance. There was no real meaning to the ceremony, it seemed. Just words, candles, traditions, the lot, taking up the time. A cynical outlook I suppose for someone my age, but I couldn't knock the thoughts. As I walked down the aisle, clad in the ugliest shade of pink I had ever seen, I thought over the past few hours.

Torture. That was one word for it. Of course, I was being a bit dramatic. I knew torture and really it had been nothing. Still, I couldn't help but get utterly frustrated with the whole thing. No one would speak to me save for my mother whose only words asked me if I had a date. Once I replied that I did not, she did not speak to me again. Daphne did not acknowledge that I was even there. She spoke to each of her bridesmaids: Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode and Ismelda Burke. I was excluded. I did not expect much else.

My father, surprisingly, was not there until just a few minutes before the ceremony was to commence. He gave me one look as if to say 'don't embarrass me'. I had no intentions to. I simply wanted to complete 'my duty' and be done with it.

The aisle was long, dusted with white rose petals. I mentally rolled my eyes at the unnecessary extravagance. I couldn't expect anything less from my sister.

As I eased down that runway, I noted a head of platinum blond hair to the right. All of Pureblood society was present, so I really shouldn't have been surprised that Malfoy sat in the crowd between a tired-looking Theo Nott and a amused Blaise Zabini. I didn't let my gaze linger long though. As I passed, I came to stand on the third step of the dais. I had been the second bridesmaid to walk. Pansy Parkinson walked down last, a large self-assured smirk on her hound-like face.

The room was every definition of extravagant. Large white and pink drapes hung behind the officiating wizard while pink, white, and yellow lilies lined every available space. I nearly gagged. It really wasn't the pink that I hated. It was the loudness of it. It wasn't soft but rather obnoxious in the amounts it had been applied. As the flower girl walked down, dropping pink petals (go figure), I let my eyes trail off of her. Somehow, I locked stares with a pair of blazing grey eyes.

I couldn't hear the gasps when Parkinson nearly fell down the stairs though if I could have, I would have laughed. Therefore, I suppose my lack of focus served me well. I couldn't hear anything. As he stood for the entrance of the bride, he continued to hold my gaze. I couldn't escape. As hard as I tried, I couldn't take my eyes back. It was as if we were stuck in some parallel plane where only we existed. I couldn't tell if he was searching my eyes or if I was searching his. My stomach was doing strange gymnastic bits. I was growing more and more irritated with that niggling feeling-

An elbow slammed into my ribs and I was jerked out of that strange world. I gasped a bit, holding the bouquet tighter to my abdomen to stem the pain. Bulstrode glared down at me. I watched the remainder of the wedding and bonding, which sealed their magic together. Pucey looked pleased as punch. I suppose finally getting the Greengrass fortune would bring a smile to any gold-digger's face.

The ceremony ended with jubilant strings playing for the exit of the 'happy couple'. I followed them out as was procedure and got swallowed into the crowd of well-wishers. My dress was not helping the situation in the slightest, being that it cinched tightly around the waist and upper legs. With the ridiculous amount of frills on the monstrosity, I was sure that Daphne had chosen them to be ugly. It was certainly her style to do so.

In the fray, a hand took hold of my wrist, pulling me out and to the side. Once we left the crowd and stopped beside a wall, I glanced up. "Malfoy?"

"Why did you refuse Nott?" His tone was low and dangerous.

I stared at him, a bit confused. "Nott?"

"There is a real threat to your life and yet, here you are! At a bloody wedding!" He jerked his head around toward where Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott and Tracey Davis stood. "You're a fool, Greengrass." His teeth were grounding together in his anger. I felt anger bubbling within me as well.

Narrowing my eyes up at him, I growled. "Why do you care anyway?"

"I don't know!" He shook his head, but backtracked. "I don't care." Malfoy flattened his palm against the wall above my head and leaned forward, angling his head over me, whispering into my ear. I tried to withstand the hot, humid air of his breath on my ear and neck. I felt shivers down my spine. "They're here." He took a deep breath. It felt as if he were breathing me in. "We're leaving now and you're coming with us."

"Why should I?" I whispered, mirroring his tone. It was almost sensuous the way we were speaking. There was some charismatic and deep undertone to it that made the whole exchange seem very private.

"It's the only chance you have to survive the night, Greengrass." He murmured, one of his hands trailed down my bare arm. My eyes went wide at his action. "If you want to die that badly then be my guest, but rest assured that you will be killed. And for what? So they could get me riled? As if your death would bother me in the slightest!" His hand stopped it trek, freezing about my wrist.

"Indeed," I deadpanned. "Then cover your own ass, Malfoy."

"I am covering my own ass." He hissed. "And if you don't come with me, I will hex you into oblivion myself!"

My eyes locked with his and I froze. He wasn't trying to rattle me. Draco Malfoy was being entirely serious. The Carrows were present and they were coming for me. I wondered just why that would be. Why come after me instead of taking Malfoy out while he was thus exposed? He had presented himself on a silver platter! Wouldn't it make more sense to kill him? In that moment, I really didn't know why, perhaps self-preservation, I trusted him, giving a single nod of understanding. He backed away, taking his wand out under his cloak. I did the same, pulling my wand from the small wand pocket in my dress. I gave a single glance toward the crowd surrounding my sister before walking to where the small group stood.

"We need to leave now. The trigger wards have already been broken." Nott muttered, coming to stand beside me. His eyes flashed maliciously. "Malfoy, do you understand what you have just done?"

Malfoy sneered. "You can try to hex me when we get back." From his cloak, he withdrew a small silver pocket-watch. I felt so confused, so unsure of my actions. My eyes fluttered to Nott's face. He glanced down at me with an expression of practiced apathy. I couldn't read it at all. "Now." I jerked my head around to Malfoy. He became impatient, took my hand and placed it on the watch. "One, two—"

I heard shouts and screams behind me. Chancing to turn around, still keeping my fingers on the item, I noted three black clad figures bursting through the crowd, wands drawn. A scream caught in my throat when I saw the form of Amycus Carrow. He grinned evilly, his lips drawing over his yellow teeth. A flash of red light emitted from his wand, directly toward me. I closed my eyes, unable to move. "Three!" As Malfoy shouted the final word, the portkey activated, hooking me behind the navel. I didn't feel the spell hit me in the instant it took for us to disappear. I felt an indescribable pressure on my back.

We fell from the sky, toward the ground. Unable to slow my descent, I slammed into the green grass, my chest taking the brunt of the force. Everything ached. Feeling my muscles protesting, I forced my way into a sitting position. I glanced around. Nearly ten feet away sat Davis and Zabini. Zabini was fussing over a slight cut on her forehead. Nott laid about twenty feet away, his arms over his eyes blocking the sun. I sighed, rubbing my head. As I took in the grounds, I noted a head of pale hair lying just beside me. I turned quickly. My heart jumped into my throat.

There was no way.

"Help," I whispered, my hand fluttering over his shoulder. "Help!" My panic was rising at the sight of the blood coming from Malfoy's mouth. "It's Malfoy!"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt Nott at my side. He stooped to the ground, pulling Malfoy into his arms. I understood everything that had happened all at once. It hit me like a hippogriff.

Malfoy had taken the spell for me.

"Astoria! Come!" Nott called as he ran toward what appeared to be Malfoy Manor. Malfoy's head lolled back and forth as my friend ran inside, flicking his wand to open the door.

I was in shock. That was the only word I could use to describe it. I stared at the ground on which Malfoy had lain just moments before. He was injured because of me, for me, and it was a concept that I just couldn't grasp. Malfoy wouldn't jump in front of a spell for someone. Then again, he also wouldn't hug someone as well.

The blood at the corner of his mouth flashed in my mind. His face was paler than it had always been, slack and unmoving. I hated that sight. It was almost as if he were dead. It scared me so to see him that pale, with blood oozing from that wretched mouth. That mouth that had been whispering angrily, heatedly, in my ear only minutes before, that send jabs of wit tearing after me with every breath...Those lips that I couldn't help but see when I closed my eyes.

A gentle hand landed on my shoulder, bringing me out of my reverie with a jolt. "Let's get on inside." Tracey Davis held her hand out to help me to stand. I took it, coming up beside her. "Don't worry. He's a tough man. It'll be okay." I couldn't explain the butterflies in my stomach, that pulling feeling that everything would not be okay. I felt tremendous worry for the Great Prat and really, I think that was what shook me the most.