Merry Christmas to those who celebrate Christmas, and a happy new year!

Big thanks to Jazz E. Roisin for reviewing every single chapter and pushing the review count above 800. It keeps my dream of one day reaching 1,000 reviews alive.

As always, read, enjoy and review :)

"Oh my god Neville!" Daphne ran towards him as soon as he had set foot into the Room of Requirement, eyes scanning him for injuries.

"I'm fine," Neville said. "Just had a little – uhm – conversation with Draco."

Daphne slowed down, but her face still looked worried. She performed a drying spell on him before she pulled him into a hug.

"What happened?" asked Astoria, also walking towards them now. "Are you alright? Is… Draco alright?"

Neville pondered the question, aware that most of their group were present and listening. "Physically he is alright. He seems a bit confused. Has headaches and nightmares. I think he had a bit of a mental breakdown because no one can really tell him what happened to him…"

"Oh," replied George, vindictive grin on his face, "we can tell him alright."

Neville sighed. "He's not going to believe any of us. He needs to hear it from someone he trusts. Family. Friends. Not us."

An awkward silence fell over the group. They had been friends. They had felt like family.

"Let's just start," Neville groaned, wishing that he could just go to bed and forget all about the horrible day he had had.

Astoria nodded. "I thought we could try the Patronus charm today. I found it in one of the books Snape assigned when he was covering the Dark Arts. I know it is advanced, but I think after today we could all use a moment to think of happier times. And even if only one of us can produce one, it could make all the difference if we are attacked by Dementors."

Neville smiled. "I'll watch you guys; I don't think I'm in the right state of mind for this today. I'll brew more post-Cruciatus potion in the meantime. If today was any indication, we'll need it."

He set to work while Astoria was explaining what she had read about the Patronus charm to the rest of their group. Harry knew how to cast a Patronus, Neville knew. As did Draco. Not a corporal one, though. And his current state he probably wasn't able to cast one at all, if he even remembered how to in the first place.

Neville tried to focus solely on the potion, but his mind kept wandering. And who could blame him? The day had been quite the emotional roller coaster. Torture in the morning, Draco's break down in the evening. He had no idea what to make of either.

The boy seemed to remember parts of his old life that had never happened in this one. But did that mean he was mentally a full-fledged Death Eater, or did he remember the moments of doubt as well? Did he remember killing Dumbledore? Did he remember all the deaths he had seen?

His attempts at torture had been meager at best. The first one had hurt only for a second, the second had not hurt at all. It had merely knocked Neville off his feet.

And what about the nightmares and headaches? Were they a result of the torture? Of the Obliviate? If so, could something be done about it? There was only one way to find out. Only one person who could help.

Neville put away his potion equipment. Now the potion merely had to simmer until the next day. "I'm going to bed," he announced to the group, who seemed to be meditating on happy thoughts and only umhummed in response.

He left the room- "Oh shit!"

"Language," sneered Draco, who was standing before him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I followed you."

"No, you didn't. I checked if anyone was following me."

Draco grinned and motioned towards the floor, where a puddle of water had formed in front of the door. And watery footprints covered the hall all the way to that puddle. Damn. He should have used a drying charm himself right away, but he had been mentally all over the place when he had left the bathroom.

"I know this room," Draco commented, his gaze on the door behind Neville.

"It's a good place to think," Neville said, moving away from the door. Hopefully Draco had not seen the other people in the room. "When you need such a place. Have you ever been inside?"

Draco followed Neville down the hall. "I-" he scrunched up his face as if in pain, "I don't know."

"It's alright," replied Neville, feeling calmer with every step he took that led Draco away from his friends. "Have you thought about my offer?"

Draco laughed. "That you tell me the truth, that my friends and even my parents tortured me and are now lying to me? It's absolutely ridiculous."

Neville shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sure it seems like this to you, but you said yourself that they are keeping things from you. And I don't think you would have followed me if you really believed I was making all of this up."

His expression soured, and he stopped, forcing Neville to do the same if he wanted to continue this conversation. "Why would you of all people want to help me? I've tortured you twice today, with the curse that took your parents from you."

Neville flinched. "Yeah, I could have done without that. But you are what your environment made you." He thought of Daphne and Theo. He knew that they had not been fighting on their side in Draco's original timeline. "There's a good guy in there, somewhere. Somewhere deep down you know that what is going on here is not right. You just need a chance to be that person. And if I can give you that chance," like Draco had given Theo and Daphne that chance, had given Neville that chance, "I'll do so gladly. It's harder when you feel like you are all alone and have no choice. But you do have one, and if you decide to do what is right, you won't be alone. Maybe Crabbe and Goyle won't follow you around anymore, but you won't be alone."

"Crabbe and Goyle aren't bad people," Draco replied.

"They torture others for the fun of it."

"Maybe those others deserve it," replied Draco weakly, his gaze had grown distant.

Neville shook his head. "How often do you have to tell yourself that before you actually believe it?" When Draco did not reply, Neville pressed on, "You spent your summer at home, didn't you? With your Dark Lord around? How was that? A loving home full of hugs and laughter? You must have felt positively heroic when you saw your Dark Lord bringing justice to this world."

"Shut up," whispered Draco, his face having grown pale, his eyes squeezed shut. "How do you know all of this?"

"You told me quite a lot before they erased your memory."

Draco shook his head. "No, no, no."

"Go to bed, Draco," said Neville. "It's late and you don't look well. Sleep on it. Think about it. My offer still stands."

Thankfully, Draco took the advice and left.

"How did you get in here?" Severus looked at the boy in front of him, searching for the burning hatred that greeted him every time he looked at anyone these days. But he did not find it. Of course, he did not. The boy had been one of Draco's closest friends. He had known Draco's secret.

"I- I guessed the password," Longbottom replied.

"You… did what?"

"I guessed the password. Dumbledore had his sweets. With you I figured it must be some obscure potion ingredient. I've stood in front of your office, listing every ingredient I could think of for the last thirty minutes. Asphodel – nice one."

Severus blinked several times, before he replied, "How very persistent of you. What brought you to my office?"

"Uhm – I wanted to know what the plan is."

"The plan?"

"Yeah, the plan for Draco. How can we undo what happened to him?"

"How can we- we cannot. Obliviation is rather permanent."

The boy's head perked up at that, meeting Severus' gaze. "So, you did obliviate him! I thought that that's what happened."

Severus waited for some signs of angers, but none came. The boy accepted the information as if they had merely spoken about the weather.

"But there must be something you can do about it," he continued.

"I assure you, there is not. Recovering erased memories is impossible."

The boy raised his eyebrows at that. "Like healing my parents was impossible? Everything is impossible until it isn't. And if anyone can achieve the impossible, it is you."

Momentarily, Severus was speechless. The boy had lost his fear of him over the past year, but he had never been so talkative with him before. And a direct compliment from a Gryffindor? Unheard of.

"Perhaps you can adapt the potion that healed my parents. Or maybe you could make a potion out of my memories, and Astoria's. I'm sure a lot of people would volunteer their memories of the last two years if they knew it would help-"

"Mr Longbottom," Severus interrupted, fearing that the boy would never stop. "Perhaps with adequate time and research, a solution could be found." And indeed, his mind was already reeling from all the possible angles from which he could tackle the problem. He would not even need their memories; he had seen Draco's. "But at the moment, there is very little time I could devote to such an endeavor. And even if I found a solution, we could not use it. He would not be able to stay at the school, and if the Dark Lord captured him again, we would be back to square one. Or even worse."

"Then we'll beat your Dark Lord and afterwards we fix Draco."

Severus could not stop the amusement from tugging at his lips, forcing them into something that those who did not know him very well would consider a smile. "You make it sound as if that were the easy part."

"Well, no one has ever called bringing Him down impossible."

"Indeed." Gryffindors and their foolish optimism would never cease to confound Severus. The Dark Lord had taken over the ministry, Dumbledore was on the run, Potter had disappeared, Draco had had his memories erased and was once more on the wrong side of the war, the two least intelligent beings in Great Britain had invaded their school,… and still, they had hope. In the absence of Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape realized that he missed that irrational Gryffindor optimism.

"He has nightmares," the boy continued, interrupting Severus' thoughts. "Draco, not the Dark Lord. And headaches. Is there anything you can do about that?"

Severus tapped his chin, considering the question. "I will talk to him. Perhaps I can help him with this particular problem."

Neville nodded. "Thank you. Good night."

Severus nodded his head and the boy left, leaving Severus alone with his thoughts. The headaches and nightmares of Draco should be easy enough to deal with. He summoned his cauldron, already having a potion in mind.

"This is a terrible idea," Astoria muttered, her voice sounding foreign, as she walked towards the dungeons with Theo, passing a wall that read Join the Resistance. The twins had spent the last night covering half of the school with similar messages.

Theo laughed. "Not gonna lie – we've had better in the past. But drastic times call for drastic measures. Besides, it was your idea."

"I know, I know. When I suggested it, I was kind of hoping someone would talk me out of it."

"Yeah, well, I am still a Slytherin. I can appreciate the cunning, even though it reeks of Gryffindor-recklessness."

She groaned. Reckless was indeed a good word for it. "What if it doesn't work?"

Theo shrugged his shoulders. "I'll be there. Daphne'll be there. We'll get you out of there."

She nodded. They had arrived in front of the entrance to Slytherin. She took a deep breath. "Alright. Just give me a moment." She closed her eyes and thought of how the school had changed. Of how she had been tortured just the other day. Of how her Draco was gone, leaving behind an angry shell of a man. When a single tear rolled down her cheek, she opened her eyes and looked at Theo. "Let's do this."

"Ehm… wait a second." He reached for her head and ruffled her hair a little, then he rested his hand on her shoulder. "There, now it's perfect!" He left his hand on her shoulder and turned towards what Astoria knew to be the entrance to Slytherin. "Avada Kedavra."

Astoria's eyes widened in alarm. "What-"

"Calm down. It's the password. Slughorn lets the Prefects choose without checking what they choose…"

As Theo was speaking, a passage was revealed leading to the Slytherin common room. It was a long room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

Theo gently pushed her forward, into the snake's den.

"Yo Pansy!" yelled one of them. Goyle. "Whatcha doing with that blood-traitor?"

Astoria stiffened. He was talking to her. She shook Theo's hand of her shoulder. "I-I can't help that he lives here as well."

Goyle laughed.

"Oh, shut it, Pansy," growled Daphne. "He has a right to be here, just as you do."

Daphne, of course, knew that she was actually talking to her polyjuiced sister rather than her pug-faced housemate.

"Zip it, the both of you," Theo replied. "Can't you see that Pansy isn't well?"

Millicent walked towards them. "What happened, dear? You're as pale as a ghost."

"N-nothing," she hiccupped.

"You have to tell them!" Theo replied heatedly. "What they did to you was wrong!"

"Who did what?" asked Daphne.

"No one did anything," cried Astoria.

Millicent put an arm around her back. "You can tell us, whatever it is."

Astoria sobbed, "They tortured me!" She threw her arms around Millicent, crying into her shoulder.

"Who?" asked Goyle. "We'll make them pay! Was it him?" He motioned his head at Theo.

"Your deductive powers are truly astonishing," replied Daphne dryly. "She said "they" and why would Theo tell us about it if he is the one behind it?"

Astoria just continued to sob into Millicent's shoulder. Perhaps it was a bit over the top, but this was Pansy, after all.

"The Carrows did it," replied Theo darkly. "They tortured her."

His statement was followed by absolute silence before the whole common room exploded.

"Liar!" "No way!" "You're making that up!"

Astoria released Millicent and took a deep breath. "It is true," she said, loudly so that the others could hear her over the commotion.

"That is ridiculous," one older student said. "Why would they do that? You're one of us!"

Astoria looked around the room. She had everyone's full attention. "I… Does it really matter? They wanted me to help in detention and torture a first year. I couldn't do it… So, they thought I needed to be punished as well."

"Since when are you such a mudblood-lover?" hissed a student Pansy did not recognize, at least a year older than her.

Anger bubbled up inside of her. Luckily, there was no reason to hide that. "I'm not," she replied hotly. "In case you haven't noticed, not a single mudblood has returned to school this year. We are torturing half-bloods and purebloods! Sometimes even Slytherins!"

"Blood-traitors," spat Crabbe.

"If we killed all blood-traitors, there barely would be any wizards and witches left," she retorted. "We have to educate them. It is not their fault that their parents have been brainwashing them."

"We are educating them," another student she did not know replied.

"Torture isn't education!" yelled Astoria. "Or have you seen any of them changing their mind? If anything, their resolve is hardening. We are pushing them further away!"

Everything turned quiet. Astoria looked around the room. Everyone was looking at her, everyone was thinking about her words. Perfect.

"I… ehm… I think Pansy has a point," Millicent finally said. "We need the pureblooded from the other houses, and what we are doing right now is pushing them away."

"They will see," growled Crabbe. "They'll wake up eventually and see how wrong they are."

Daphne groaned. "How often do you have to hit a problem with a hammer to realize that it is not a damn nail?"

"You stay out of this!"

"But she's got a point!" said Blaise Zabini. He was a part of their group, as was Tracey, but none of the other Slytherins knew that. "And telling her to shut up doesn't change that! Usually, if a solution does not work, you try a different one. But we keep on doing the same thing again and again, even though it hasn't worked once so far."

"What are you suggesting?" a girl asked. "Do you want to bake them some biscuits, so they'll join us?"

Blaise shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm sure you all have some great reasons why you are following your precious Dark Lord. Design a poster," laughed Daphne and Astoria could not help but be impressed by how unapologetic her big sister was. She was a minority in a house which had members who saw no problem in torturing their enemies. Yet, here she was, right in their midst, speaking her mind. "I'll help you – start with "Reasons to join the dark side." Well, and then you have to list a few reasons. I'm afraid I can't help you with that because I really don't know why any of you are following a noseless lunatic who has no issue torturing and killing his own people."

"Your people killed Cassius!" yelled one of the Prefects.

"I wasn't even talking about him, specifically," replied Daphne. "But you don't honestly believe that bullcrap?"

The whole discussion derailed from there, with arguing and yelling and fighting.

"Well done," whispered Theo, before he joined the fighting.

Astoria smiled to herself. The plan had worked perfectly. They had managed to sow dissent and doubt. It had shown them that no one was save from the Carrows, not even future Death Eaters. Perhaps some would even realize that that meant that no one was save from Voldemort either, and that perhaps Cassius' death was not caused by the Order. The fight that had broken out also gave their group a clearer idea of where the people in the room stood on these topics, even if Astoria did not know them.

Her gaze wandered through the room, taking in the arguments going on. So far, she had avoided looking in Draco's direction. She had been afraid that she would lose her composure if she looked his way. He had made it easier by not saying anything, but all throughout the whole thing she had felt his eyes on her. Now she dared look at him. He was looking at her, unblinking. But she had no idea what the expression on his face meant.

It was probably a terrible idea, but she could not help but walk over to him.

"Hey, there," she said.

He smiled at her, no hostility in his composure. Oh, how she had missed that. He reached for her hand and pulled her away from the shouting match that had broken out in the middle of the room.

"I've never heard you say anything like that before," he said, letting go of her hand. His expression was unreadable. Did he agree? Or was he about to tell her how unacceptable her behavior had been?

Astoria shrugged her shoulders. "I've never been tortured before… But I have been thinking about this for a while now. We are not winning anyone over with what we've been doing so far… And…Things have been different this year. Everyone's fighting, but no one is really talking about these changes…"

Draco looked away. "I've noticed."

Her heart ached for him. With what Neville had told her of their confrontation… "How's your head?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Better. Not good, mind you, but Snape has given me a potion and… it's better."

She reached out for his head, caressing his cheek.

He closed his eyes, leaning into her hand.

She still did not know how he felt about the changes she had just mentioned, even though he did not seem to have any issues with her. Remembering something he had once told her about Slytherin, she asked, "Do you ever feel like you can't really be yourself around here?"

He looked at her and she could see the understanding in his eyes, even though his answer was, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Slytherin is about ambition," she ventured, "about getting what you want. And it is about appearances. There is this idea of the ideal Slytherin that everyone is trying to project. You have to love green. You have to be polite. You have to agree with everything the Carrows and the Dark Lord say. You have to hate everything anyone else says…" She leaned in closer and whispered, "Can I tell you a secret?"

She could hear him swallow, before he nodded.

"Green isn't my favorite color."

Draco let out a nervous laughter. He had probably expected something else.

He took her hands in his, and whispered, "I don't much care for the Carrows."

She squeezed his hands. Oh, how it felt good to hear those words out of his mouth. "That's what I'm talking about. They are Death Eaters. The Dark Lord sent them here. That's why we all pretend they are a blessing for the school. But no one in their right mind can honestly mean that. Lockhart was a better teacher than those two dimwits combined."

He chuckled softly. He let go of her hands and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "You are full of surprises today."

Astoria could feel her heartbeat quicken. He felt so familiar. Safe. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine that nothing had changed.

And for a second, she did just that. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his warmth. Enjoyed the arms which had always protected her from the world around her. Enjoyed his warm breath on her face, and a second later, his warm lips on hers.

But just as quickly as she had lost herself, she remembered. Remembered that this was not her Draco. Remembered that her Draco was forever gone. Remembered that the man before her thought he was kissing someone else.

He pulled back. "What's wrong?"

She opened her eyes. "Nothing's wrong."

"You are crying."

She smiled at him. He was right, now that he had mentioned it, she could feel the tears running down her cheeks. But there was no way she could explain what she was feeling.

His expression changed. "Your hair…" he said, taking a strand of it in his hands.

Light brown. Uh-oh.

"I have to leave," she said, turning away from him and running out of the Slytherin common room.

She ran to the next bathroom, where she stayed, and cried, until she looked and felt like herself again.

TBC

So, what do you think? I don't usually like to write romance and most of my stories are gen, but I think this moment between Draco and Astoria turned out alright. Not perfectly happy the Slytherin common room scene before that, but I'll probably never be and I wanted to post one last chapter before 2022. Let me know what you think, the good, the bad and the ugly!

Happy New Year!