680Author's Note: The feedback I have received for just the first two chapters of this story is positively amazing. I am quite blown away. Keep it up, amazing reviewers! Lots of plot twists in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it. As always, feel free to include in your reviews any questions, comments, or constructive criticism you may have. Thanks and enjoy! And for my readers of The Reign of Kellyn Wood, the next chapter ought to be up very soon, within an hour.
ON THE OTHER SIDE
Chapter 3: Protective Paradigm
"It is too late. Astoria Greengrass, you're in."
Fucking hell. Was Theodore Nott smoking some mushroom from the greenhouse or was he simply out of his mind? Either way, he was going to get them all killed by bringing in some exasperating, scrawny fifth year with no particular assets (or ass) other than her abilities to stimulate irksome conversation, nose her way into others' business, and perform a decent memory charm. Blaise was right angry when he heard the Greengrass Brat had been folded into their plan, but she hissed that if he had kept his snake in his pants, none of this would have happened.
Which was completely true and beside the point because she was bloody annoying.
"Greengrass," Draco sneered, "go sit with people your own age." The last thing they needed was Little Greengrass following the seventh year boys around like a lost sheep to raise suspicion.
"I care not for your presence, Malfoy," she would primly declare. "I am sitting with my sister. You, however, may leave if you wish."
Daphne was utterly bewildered that her sister would talk to anyone like that.
"I don't understand what has gotten into her lately," Daphne shook her head when walking with Draco to class one day. "She used to be so quiet, never talked back to anyone, always very modest of her abilities and now suddenly, she is mouthing off to the Carrows and she's been reading the oddest books that I'm almost sure she got from Nott."
"I would not worry about her," Draco said in a bored tone. "She is smart enough to get herself out of whatever trouble she creates."
"She isn't the same girl anymore. I miss my quiet sister," Daphne said softly. "You don't like her, do you?"
"I find her bothersome," Draco said, settling for the nicest thing he could say about Damn Little Greengrass. Daphne just laughed.
"She can have that effect."
"Miss Greengrass, a word after class," Professor Flitwick beckoned Astoria over after Charms one day.
"Yes, Professor?" she responded dully. Charms was her second favorite class, but she had feigned being distracted during class when she was actually listening most attentively; apparently it had been working.
"Last year you were near the top of the class and this year, your marks have slipped. Now, I know these are rather trying times, but I do hope you will turn in your homework more often." Astoria adjusted her book bag, knowing that all of the unturned in assignments were sitting in her bag. "You exam marks are all quite good; that is to say, you only answer three-fourths of the questions and leave the rest blank. Do you have any explanation? Or is there anything you wish to tell me?" the teacher egged her on, hoping to understand what was going on in the Slytherin's mind.
The truth was that mediocrity was all that was saving her. She kept up with all the reading in the Dark Arts because she knew that the terrible knowledge from that class was going to rescue her one day, but she did not bother with doing the homework or paying attention in class. Amycus Carrow was appalling and she refused to listen to him.
She was the only Slytherin in her Care of Magical Creatures class and so she did not care how others viewed her. The class was her sanctuary since she was far better handling animals than people, and no one attempted to talk to her anyway. It was her favorite class and she found herself ambivalent to Hagrid, even if he was half-giant and sometimes rather scatter-brained. He, in turn, seemed to begrudgingly tolerate Astoria because she was so good with the creatures, but the green tie on her neck made it rather hard for him to invite her over for tea—which she would refuse anyway because it was ill-advised to consort with half-breed scum.
"I simply have been busy, professor."
"Too busy to do your homework? Miss Greengrass, are you in some kind of trouble?"
"No, professor. I do not know why you would assume that," she said almost mechanically, keeping her face perfectly neutral. "Good day, professor. Thank you for your concern," she bristled before leaving the room.
Their plan was simple: survive the year. After that, it was a great unknown what the hell they were going to do.
"That is your huge, mastermind plan?" the Greengrass Brat asked them dryly.
"It is a little easier said than done when you have this," Blaise retorted, rolling up his left sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark. Draco followed and rolled up his sleeve to reveal his; he observed that she did not even shudder at the sight of the disfigured skin.
"It is also a little easier said than done when you have this," Nott said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his empty forearm. Little Greengrass seemed surprised.
"I had assumed…"
"What did we say about assuming, Little Greengrass?" Draco drawled.
"It makes you an ass," she goaded.
"Can we vote her off the team?" Blaise inquired snappily.
"First of all, we are not a team. Second, this certainly is no democracy. Third," Nott continued, "we need her and she knows too much."
"That can be fixed," Draco and Blaise growled in unison.
"You may stop talking about me like I am not here," Little Greengrass snapped. "You forget I want the same thing as you do."
"To go away?" Blaise suggested.
"To survive through the year," she continued, unperturbed. "We all have our loyalties. Mine is to my sister. Nothing else matters. You ask why you need me, but you ought to be considering why you need each other. It all is the same reason: we can be of use to each other. We are Slytherins, therefore we have no scruples in using one another. Nott has the brains behind this. Zabini has charm, apparently," she rolled her eyes and Blaise released a rather undignified snort, "and Malfoy has money and connections. And I," she continued, "am invisible. It is perfect."
"You need to keep your head a little lower if you expect to hold up your end of the bargain," Blaise ordered her, his chin raised in superiority.
"Your sister has noticed you are behaving differently," Draco added, causing Blaise's eyes to flick in his direction.
"No more talking back to the Carrows. And you are keeping your marks average, yes?" Nott added. Little Greengrass nodded her head. "Good, we need you unnoticed, especially by the Carrows. It would make things easier if they forgot you existed." Little Greengrass' gaze drifted away for a moment, unfocused and distant, before Blaise snapped in front of her face.
"Was that really necessary?" she asked dryly, now hyper-attentive.
"For the record," he said with a roguish grin, "I like your sister much better than you."
"I wonder why?" she pondered aloud with a scathing look before turning on her heel and stalking up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.
"Really, Zabini?" Nott asked exasperatedly. Blaise grinned, lacing his hands behind his head and propping his feet up on a stool.
"I couldn't resist," he said as an explanation.
"Do us all a favor and try—I am sure you can come up with a motivating enough reason," Nott said slyly and Blaise scowled.
"Miss Greengrass, do you know the counter curse for the Hematoma Jinx?" asked Amycus Carrow in the Dark Arts. Astoria looked up from her work and then down at her notes. Written quite clearly just a few lines above the tip of her quill was the counter curse. Looking back up at the professor, she gave her response.
"No, sir."
The past two weeks, she had melted back into invisibility and the Carrows had seemed to all but forget about her. Both were convinced she was a rather unremarkable girl, despite her quick tongue and Pureblood lineage; she was back to being Daphne's little sister, the forgotten Greengrass, the Slytherin in the hallway. It was better that way and certainly made things easier. Amycus Carrow in particular was persuaded that she was about as smart as her older sister. The few occasions that he had asked her a question in class, she had responded by saying that she did not know the answer.
In the Dark Arts, her partner for the year became the Hufflepuff bloke who took the girl who vomited on the first day of class to the Hospital Wing. His name was Alec Summerby and he was the Seeker for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Malfoy could kick his ass any day on the pitch, which Astoria informed him of when he approached the subject of Quidditch. However, she never expected to have a partner, let alone him. He had the audacity to approach her the second day of class and make the decision for her.
"It looks like you're stuck with me," he sat down beside her. "Alec Summerby," he thrust out his hand, which Astoria eyed like a used tissue. He shoved his hand back in his pocket, slightly ashamed. "Mary—the girl who got sick in class yesterday— is rather terrified of you and it seems like there are an odd number of Slytherins, leaving you without a partner." Astoria did not deign to respond. "Well, no one seemed inclined to be your partner, but I figured I could do it."
"What a martyr," she murmured with a saccharine sweet smile, smoothing out a scroll to write on.
"Are you friends with those girls?" he asked good-naturedly, pointing to the Slytherins in the class. And this was why she never, ever talked to Hufflepuffs: they were so fucking nice, it was almost unreal. They actually liked civil conversations and meeting new people, and they were almost as noble and shit as Gryffindors. It was all quite appalling and superfluous to her.
"No, they are my Housemates," Astoria answered coolly.
"Why didn't you ask to partner with them?" Astoria wished he would stop asking questions. Mother always said that attempting civility was usually the best course of action, but Astoria begged to differ at the moment.
"Why would I? They are so dim that they do not realize that I would be the ideal partner to have."
"Because you know the material?" Summerby asked, his eyes curious and frightened.
"That is neither here nor there," she murmured, purposefully evading the question in hopes to scare him off.
"Well," he gulped, "I hope we can work together well." Astoria did not respond but inwardly groaned in irritation before pulling out her book to take notes.
In their partnership, they had talked little and only about school related topics after Astoria asked him to desist with the incessant personal questions, seeing how she had no desire to be his friend and he had no use of having her as a friend. The Hufflepuff seemed quite perplexed by this concept, but respectfully accepted Astoria's terms of agreement. It was now the beginning of November when Summerby peered over her shoulder ("Personal bubble, Summerby." "Sorry.") and realized that she knew the answer, but simply feigned ignorance.
"Why did you do that?" he asked after class was dismissed.
"Do what, Summerby?"
"You can call me Alec, you know," he insisted warmly. Astoria gave him a look to say that she was disgusted by that sort of familiarity. "Why did you tell Professor Carrow that you didn't know the answer when you did know it?"
"That is none of your concern," she snapped back.
"But it's school related," he persisted, "so it doesn't break your rules of partnership."
"Let me ask you something, Summerby," Astoria began, wheeling around to face him squarely and causing him to stop in his tracks. "How do you Hufflepuffs protect one another?"
"We support each other in everyway possible. We are loyal and we help each other; it is our self-less nature."
"Well, Slytherins are the opposite," Astoria explained impatiently, knowing that the sight of a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff talking in the corridor was rather suspicious. "We are not self-less, but self-full, selfish even. We look out for number one. So, that is how I protect myself, because no one else will." He looked at her for a moment with sympathetic brown eyes.
"That's sad."
"That is life, Summerby. Now if you ask another question like that, I swear to Merlin I will have no qualms hexing you in the hallways, partnership or not," Astoria snapped before briskly walking away from him.
But Alec Summerby continued to pose a problem. Fucking Hufflepuffs and their blind loyalty— for some reason, the bloke felt pity for Astoria, which made her want to cast a Bat-Boogey Hex every time she saw his smiling face, and as a result of his pity, he felt that it was his job to be her friend in class… which was the absolute last thing she needed. Theodore Nott made fun of her often for it.
"It is not funny, Theo," she would scowl. "It is an embarrassment… not to mention a liability."
"Summerby is on some noble quest to find the cuddly kitten inside of you," he would laugh.
"Might want to declaw her first," Malfoy muttered darkly.
"Are we talking about pussy… cats?" Zabini asked before Astoria turned his hair pink.
It was a week later, and Amycus Carrow was idiotically lecturing when he felt like demonstrating the particular spell he was talking about. It was not uncommon for him to use a student as a guinea pig; no one seemed to know whether it was worse for him to call a student to the front of the class or to strike out expectedly during the middle of his lecture. Summerby had raised his hand to ask a question and Amycus lunged for him, a purple spell slicing across the underside of his wrist. The Hufflepuffs in the class shrieked in surprise and there was suddenly blood spilling down Summerby's arm and soaking his shirt front. Astoria refused to directly look at him, but knew he was loosing blood rapidly.
"Clamp it, Summerby, clamp it tight," she whispered, keeping her lips from moving as much as possible. Pale-faced, he clenched his bleeding wrist with his uninjured hand.
"Astoria," he whispered in a frightened voice.
"Wait," she growled, seeing that the Hufflepuffs were still looking at them as Amycus Carrow had returned to his lecture like nothing had past. Slowly, they all turned back around after Carrow yelled at them all to pay attention. "Give it here," she spoke lowly. In the back of the classroom, Summerby put his injured wrist under the table and Astoria peered at the wound. It was a deep cut made by Dark Magic, which made it difficult to stop the bleeding. She tried a few spells that she cast nonverbally; the bleeding seemed to slow. He managed to make it through class, his face pale and sallow.
"Thanks, Astoria. I really owe you one," he said quietly.
"Don't mention it."
"But really…"
"I was not joking, Summerby," Astoria said, pointing her wand at him. "Do not mention it… to anyone, or I will give you a real reason to go to the Hospital Wing." He tried to protest and she dug her wand into him. He realized that she was serious and backed off. "Get out of my face," she muttered and he left to go visit Madam Pomfrey.
She really needed a new partner.
"Malfoy… yes, Malfoy, you are suitable. Come here," Amycus leered. "Longbottom, you're troublesome, come to the front of the classroom." Everyone sat petrified except for the two seventh years that dragged themselves up to the front of the room. "No need for your wand, Longbottom," he smiled and the Gryffindork left his wand on his desk with great hesitation. "Mr. Malfoy, kindly show the class how to perform the Cruciatus Curse."
Everyone had been waiting for that day to come. For months, they had been dancing around nearly unforgiveable curses, but now they were studying the irredeemable trio. The class was not called the Dark Arts for shits and giggles and it was widely assumed that they were going to be taught to perform Unforgivable Spells. They had all been hoping they would just have to torture rats, not people—then again, Longbottom and his lot were as good as rats. Avoiding blatant brutality was all wishful thinking, though; Amycus, despite his deficiency in intelligence, made up for it in cruelty and had no qualms pitting the students against each other.
Draco had cast the Cruciatus Curse before, but that was hardly the point. The point was that Longbottom did not need to be tortured. His only crimes were annoyingly supporting Dumbledore's Army, being a Gryffindork, and a blood-traitor, but that hardly constituted a Cruciatus Curse. Yet, he had no chance of avoiding it with the eyes of Professor Carrow, his House, and the Gryffindors on him.
"Crucio," the word flew from his mouth and Longbottom was on the floor in spasms. It was not much, though. His dear Auntie Bellatrix always said that you had to mean it. And he didn't. Which was bad.
"Disappointing," Amycus murmured and the spell flew out of his mouth again. This time, Longbottom was screaming and it was terrifying but he did not let up until Carrow tapped his shoulder as if to say it would suffice. "And perhaps you will not be as much of a disgrace as your father, young Mr. Malfoy," the man smiled. Draco returned to his seat and looked away when Seamus Finnigan dragged Longbottom's feeble body to the Hospital Wing.
After that, the bangs and yelps of pain from the dungeons that leaked into the Slytherin common rooms were replaced with screams—terrible, awful screams of excruciated pain—and the seventh year Slytherins were called in for 'supplementary lessons.'
"Practice makes perfect, young Mr. Malfoy," Alecto Carrow grimaced. "And again—I don't think the blood traitor has learned her lesson." He cast the curse again and screams filled the air.
Her name was Fiona. She was a fifth year in Ravenclaw. She was Tracey Davis' younger sister. She was tolerable.
Astoria and Fiona sometimes studied together in the library when no one else was around. It was difficult to see their ties when they were ducked over parchment and Astoria figured that in the library, she could forget about the war in a book and the nagging reminder that it was frowned upon to talk to anyone outside her House.
Sometimes she wondered if she even belonged in Slytherin. For all her lies, arrogance, cunning, familiar loyalties, and resourcefulness, Astoria had a thirst for knowledge that could not be quenched and a profound respect for logic. It made her doubt some Pureblood dogmas, but they had been so deeply instilled in her that she was prejudiced whether she liked it or not. She loved school because she was able to learn everyday, even if she had to listen to the Carrows' idiotic ramblings.
But it was not enough. She knew the Slytherin boys' protection would only get her so far; she could only hide behind the books for so long; she could only look after her sister as much she was able to; she could only ignore the screams in the dungeons until she went insane from lack of sleep; she could only play this little game until she needed someone to sit next to, a friend perhaps. And although they did not talk much, Astoria found that she could respect Fiona Davis; and although Astoria considered Fiona her only friend, she would never, not in a thousand years, tell the Ravenclaw that. Because that would just be pathetic. And Astoria Greengrass was not pathetic.
They adapted, as they always did. Slytherins were blessed with a certain amount of resourcefulness that made them quite adaptable. Some would say that they were a little slimy in the way they could easily flip-flop, but Draco figured it was better to have his feet chopped off than his head.
Nott was the oldest of them, turning seventeen years old the past April. Draco followed him in June and Blaise just turned seventeen a few weeks later. They were still quite young, although lately they had been looking a little more like their fathers and less like their youthful selves… except Blaise, because he was a bastard child (therefore no one knew if he really took after his father) and was too vain to let his looks go.
But they all tortured. Pansy and Bullstrode had their hands at it too. Tracey seemed to be skipped over because she was half-blood and the Carrows felt she was unworthy of the 'supplementary lessons;' Daphne was excused for awhile because she still smiled in the hallways, which seemed impossible to do those days. Draco suspected they thought her incapable of producing the curse because she was not terribly bright or capable of genuine cruelty.
Nott had taken on the habit of obsessively washing his hands when he returned from his lessons. Blaise mounted a punching bag on the wall and took to it like a beast. Pansy wore more eyeliner. Bullstrode lost her appetite, which was actually a benefit for her, considering she was a bit overweight. Crabbe and Goyle were reasonably unaffected; they seemed to enjoy actually being talented at something for the first time in their lives.
Draco flew on his broom. Even though Quidditch was banned, he was still able to grab his Nimbus and take a spin around the grounds. It was thrilling and for a few minutes, he could forget everything and simply feel alive. The rush of cold air against his skin, his hair flying out of his face, his muscles taunt and ready to shift at any second… it was invigorating to have all his senses heightened. Sometimes he even smiled.
But eventually, he had to return to the ground. It was back to the screams that kept them up at night; back to the 'supplementary lessons;' back to being told what to do and think; back to watching his back; back to worrying about his family. Back to servitude. That's all it was—servitude. He was a prisoner when at his house, a fallen aristocrat when at school, and a puppet all the time but they adapted because they had to.
It was the middle of November when the Carrows informed Daphne Greengrass she had 'supplementary lessons' to report to. He watched her leave the room, her green eyes wide with fear and panic, perhaps already knowing she would choke when trying to cast the curse. Little Greengrass trotted down the stairs a few minutes later and curled up on a couch to bury her nose in her book; no one answered when she asked where her sister was. Fifteen minutes later, Alecto Carrow came into the Slytherin common room, demanded Astoria Greengrass' presence, and swept the fifth year from the room. Nott abruptly stood up and Draco, who was standing, sat back down; Blaise resumed his pacing.
He knew that Little Greengrass was going to be fine, regardless what they would do to her or make her do. She was fifteen, younger than them all, and he knew she was going to be fine, which positively disgusted him because no one, not even that Little Greengrass Brat, should manage to be fine after being an instrument of torture or the subject of it, Draco decided. She was too young and it was unfair.
He was supposed to protect her. He, Blaise, and Nott were supposed to protect Itty Bitty Greengrass and make sure she survived the year; instead, they tossed her to the hounds. So, they sat and waited until she came back. And she was fine. And there was nothing to talk about, so they said nothing. And when it happened again, they did nothing. And when it happened again, they still did nothing because she was a puppet just like the rest of them and she had to learn. Otherwise, she would not survive the year.
Alecto Carrow beckoned her with a finger.
"Your presence is required in the dungeons, Greengrass," she crooned. Astoria closed her book, picked up her wand, and followed, not daring to look at Theo, Zabini, and Malfoy, who were on the other side of the common room.
"Is there a problem, Professor, or am I to receive 'supplementary lessons?'" she politely inquired with enough innocent curiosity (ha… innocent) to make the professor laugh.
"Just a small problem, Greengrass. Nothing that cannot be remedied with a little… persuasion," she insisted. Astoria knew that something had gone wrong. She had come down to the common room apparently right after her sister had left and no one seemed willing to say where she had gone. Astoria deduced that Daphne had to be in the dungeons. The thought made her gulp and walk briskly, knowing she would have to be prepared to take some action in defense of her sister. The door swung open to reveal Crabbe and Daphne talking and a seventh year Gryffindor (that Astoria recognized as Lavender Brown) huddled on the floor, looking positively terrified.
"You have to do it, you can't just say—"
"I know, Vincent, I just can't, I can't—"
"All is well, Mr. Crabbe, I have brought persuasion," Alecto Carrow grinned, shoving Astoria forward.
"Daphne, what is going on?" Astoria asked softly and Daphne burst out into sobs.
"I can't do it, I can't, I'm so, so sorry, Tori, I can't, it's—"
"Shut it, Greengrass," Alecto snarled. "You will learn your lesson." Astoria felt a wand under her neck and suddenly knew what was going on. Daphne was supposed to perform the Cruciatus Curse on Brown but had balked; Alecto Carrow cleverly thought that threatening the life of her little sister would force Daphne to perform the curse. Little did she know, Daphne Greengrass did not operate that way and Astoria Greengrass would never let it happen on the Carrows' terms.
Daphne had collapsed on the ground in hysterical sobs, nearly pulling out her hair in abject anguish. She was becoming more riled up by the second, insisting that she could not do it over and over again like a mantra while Alecto Carrow yelled back at Daphne to make her see that she had no option but to do as she was told, or else her dear little sister would be hurt. Astoria knew Daphne could not do anything under pressure and she sure as hell could not do anything while being threatened. Daphne had no way of helping or protecting her little sister, even if she wanted to; besides, it was Astoria's job to do the protecting.
"She will not do it," Astoria said with her back to Alecto Carrow. "She cannot do it. She will never truly mean the curse. She is incompetent in that manner and cannot do a thing under pressure. It was foolish of you to bring me down here and expect that it would change anything or that I would be sufficient motivation." Daphne continued sobbing on the ground and Crabbe looked quite bewildered, not sure whether to comfort the very pretty girl or remain stony and unmoved. Alecto's wand dug further in her neck and Astoria knew suddenly what she would have to do. "I will take my sister's place. I will learn her lesson."
"You're a fifth year!" Crabbe snorted but Alecto Carrow looked mildly interested.
"Go, Daphne," Astoria ordered.
"Tori, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"I know, Daph, just leave," she insisted, her voice a whisper. She did not want her sister to see what she had to do. Astoria had no choice but to protect her sister… even if it meant doing something Unforgiveable.
"Mr. Crabbe, you may take the elder Miss Greengrass back to the common rooms," Alecto said before turning to Astoria. "You understand that by doing this, you will have to attend any further lessons you may require?"
"I understand completely, Professor," Astoria said coolly, taking a step back from the professor and rubbing the skin where Alecto's wand dug into her neck.
"Then, you may begin at any time," Alecto Carrow slowly grinned, gesturing toward Brown. Astoria saw Crabbe lead her sister out of the room, Daphne giving her one last pained look before the door to the dungeon shut behind her. Astoria took a deep breath and pointed her wand at her victim.
"Crucio."
Daphne Greengrass returned to the common room being supported by Crabbe. She was sobbing uncontrollably, only able to mutter that she couldn't do it. The sentence repeatedly fell from her lips like a broken record.
"Crabbe, where is the younger Greengrass?" Draco asked.
"She's back in the dungeons still, I reckon," Crabbe shrugged, unceremoniously depositing Daphne on a couch.
"What is she doing there?" Nott inquired, his voice dangerously low.
"What she couldn't," Crabbe responded, pointing to Daphne and her wails grew louder.
"Fuck," Blaise muttered lowly.
"Fuck is right," Nott growled. "She's a fucking fifth year!"
"Fucking Little Greengrass Brat," Draco murmured.
"She has to learn her lessons," Crabbe muttered, causing them all to look at the buffoon in surprise and the room to fall silent with the exception of Daphne's sniffling. "We all have to learn our lessons." It was perhaps the smartest thing the shithead had ever said and he did not even know it. Daphne burst out in fresh sobs and Nott stood up and stormed upstairs.
Little Greengrass, Draco supposed, would probably not be so little after she returned.
Her first go at the Cruciatus Curse was not too successful. Brown jerked in pain on the dungeon floor and let out a pitiful shriek. Alecto Carrow tutted.
"What have you gotten yourself into, Ickle Greengrass?" she crooned.
"Supplementary lessons, obviously," Astoria coolly responded, "lessons that require a bit of teaching." A cruel grin flashed across Alecto's face.
"You have to mean it, Greengrass. Anger or disgust can only get you so far. You have to want to make her hurt and relish every second of it," Alecto advised her with a curious gaze. Astoria turned back to Brown.
Daphne had not wanted to hurt Brown: she had done nothing wrong to Daphne and Daphne could never take pleasure in another person's pain. But, Brown had done something to Astoria; she had forced Astoria to blow her cover again and put Daphne at risk. So yes, she needed her to hurt and she wanted her to hurt.
"Crucio," she said and this time, Brown's screams echoed off the wall in the dungeon, her body shuddering and jerking on the cold stone floor. After a few seconds, she released the spell and looked over to Alecto Carrow for approval.
"Very good, Greengrass. You just may be your father's daughter after all." Astoria looked haughty until she was asked to do it again. And again. And again. And again. In between spells, Alecto Carrow taunted the crying girl, asking if Potter would come to save her and how she liked being a blood traitor. Alecto was satisfied by the sobbing and informed Astoria that she was done with her lesson for the day.
"That is it?" Astoria asked, surprised. Alecto Carrow seemed just as stunned as Astoria.
"Yes, we will continue next week, Greengrass."
"I thought that was a rather short play-date with Miss Brown," Astoria said, fixing her face to be completely unreadable, a talent she had picked up from her father. "I thought I may continue… alone." Brown shuddered on the floor.
"You are quite the dark horse, Greengrass," she laughed before leaving Brown and Astoria in the dungeon.
"Lavender Brown," Astoria slowly recited, languidly circling the girl with an air of authority, "seventh year Gryffindor. Pure-blood. Dated Weaselbee in sixth year. Member of Dumbledore's Army. Your first time with the Cruciatus?" The girl whimpered and nodded. "Me too," Astoria cruelly grinned, taking her sweet time. "Except it was a little different for you, was it not?" she sweetly smiled. Brown shuddered again. "If I were you, I would want to forget it all." Brown tried to stand, but Astoria flicked her wand and the girl was on the ground again. "It is very rude, Brown, to leave when someone is talking to you. Although I would not expect you to understand, being a blood traitor and all. But I shant keep you long," Astoria sighed. "So, I will ask you one question, Miss Brown: would you like to forget?"
"What?" the girl breathed.
"Would you like to forget that all of this happened? Everything that happened in this room could be out of mind, and I am asking if you would like it. I ask, because I can make it happen," Astoria fiddled with her wand. Lavender Brown looked up at her with tears in her eyes and responded:
"Yes."
"Stupefy," Astoria said and the girl looked shocked and betrayed before she slumped to the ground. Astoria straightened herself up and concentrated on the memory charm she would perform. Lavender Brown would have to forget everything that happened in the dungeon—all the pain and taunting, the scene her older sister made, Alecto's lesson for Astoria, and Astoria's proposition. It was like cutting thread, Astoria mused as she snipped away the memories from Brown's unconscious body.
"Obliviate," Astoria said and she knew she had done the job well. Astoria cast a Cheering Charm on Brown in hope that it would give her just enough energy to make it to the Hospital Wing before she walked to the door of the dungeon and whispered, "Rennervate." Brown stirred and Astoria shut the door behind her. The girl would not suspect a thing.
When she returned to Slytherin common room, Theo, Malfoy, and Zabini sat waiting for her with looks on their faces as if they expected her to say something.
"It is done," she said. "I had no choice."
"Astoria…" Nott murmured.
"It is fine," she said with a little more malice than she would have liked. "I learned my lesson." She turned on her heel and went up to her room. Nothing more was said on the matter.
Draco always maintained that the Gryffindorks were a gaggle of stupid, rash rabble-rousers with nothing better to do than launch noble plans that accomplished nothing. That was probably why Weaselette, Longbottom, and Loony Lovegood were caught breaking into Snape's office. Figured.
The Carrows apprehended them and were furious, about ready to hex them into oblivion. They called Draco and Little Greengrass to assist in restraining them and to partake in uncovering the rest of their plans until Snape came along and put a stop to it.
"But they were caught breaking into your office, sir!" Alecto protested, pouting that she would not get to have a little fun that evening.
"Seeing how it is my office," Snape drawled, "I will see to it that they are punished. Why are these two here?" he gestured to Draco and Little Greengrass.
"To help restrain and punish the students," Amycus answered, seeming to be proud of himself for concocting such a brilliant plan.
"You are two, full-grown wizards who need the help of two students to restrain three other students?" Snape asked and Amycus' smile faltered. Snape eyed Little Greengrass, who was studying the floor, for a moment. He shoved his wand under her chin to tilt his face up to him. Seeing the celery green eyes, Snape questioned, "Greengrass…?" She nodded her head. "Astoria, yes," he recalled. "What year are you in?"
"Fifth," she responded and something akin to disgust flashed across Snape's eyes.
"A child," he snorted. Little Greengrass did not take kindly to the insult and crossed her arms petulantly. "Draco, kindly escort Miss Greengrass back to the common room. Amycus and Alecto, you are no longer needed. I will handle this."
Later, Draco discovered Weaselette, Longbottom, and Loony Lovegood were given detention in the Forbidden Forest with that half-breed Hagrid. They were lucky, considering students were punished with the Cruciatus Curse for existing while the trio had committed a real crime and were practically unpunished. Draco wondered what motives Snape could possibly have for letting them slide, but there were bigger consequences to worry about.
Firstly, the Carrows started beckoning Little Greengrass to the dungeons to do their dirty business at least once a week.
Second, the entire school was instilled in hope from the Gryffindors' act of rebellion. And frankly, having hope in Hogwarts was more dangerous than the Carrows themselves.
"Oh, can you see them too?" a silver-haired girl wearing radish earrings asked Astoria. She had been outside for a half hour holding a dead bird, hoping that the threstrals would approach her. The enigmatic creatures always intrigued Astoria.
"No, I cannot," Astoria responded, giving the bird an enticing shake. "Are they nearby?"
"Oh yes, Ajax is quite close to you and Zeno is right behind him. They are twins, rather rare, but they have very different natures," she continued talking. Normally, Astoria would have shut her up in a second, but the girl had a very soothing voice and seemed honest, if a bit eccentric. "I don't have a twin, but we sure do—or did—have many of them at Hogwarts: Padma and Parvati Patil, and Fred and George Weasley. I suppose that's many for how small our school is. It makes me wonder why the castle is so large. I don't think we use half of the rooms in there. I would like to think that school is a place for students to grow and so the castle itself is trying to make room for us. It's a nice thought, isn't it? I'm Luna, Luna Lovegood, by the way."
"Astoria…Greengrass," she responded quietly.
"I remember," Luna nodded. "You were with the Carrows the night Ginny, Neville, and I tried to break into Headmaster Snape's office." She did not seemed to be angry or judgmental, greatly confusing Astoria. "We do what we must for protection," she shrugged. They were quiet for a moment and Astoria felt it was an awkward silence, even though Luna seemed unperturbed. Eventually, Ajax the thestral had crept up all the way to Astoria and helped himself to the bird. Astoria reached out to pet him, smiling as she did so. It felt like it had been years since she last smiled.
"Sometimes I feel like we are so concerned about surviving that we forget about living," Luna mused aloud. "And it is shame, really, because we are so young. I am glad that you cannot see the thestrals, Astoria. Although, I think that even if you could see them, you would still like them. They are creatures that prefer to stay in the dark, even if they are actually quite nice. I believe you would understand that tendency."
Astoria did not respond and continued to run her hands over the thestral. At that point, she would have given anything to hop on its back and fly out of that hellhole of a school. But she didn't. The odd notion was a perfect paradigm of just how shitty her life had become in the past few months; it did not help that she knew the worst was yet to come.