~Astra~

It took about two weeks to reach Wales, driving along as many back roads as possible. Even though we were both fairly certain that no one would be looking for us in a beat up old muggle truck, and there weren't going to be agents of Stillens traversing the highway, we still wanted to be cautious.

Why were we in Wales, and why did it take two weeks to get there? Well, it took so long because (besides the fact that James was trying to teach me how to drive, and I wasn't very good at it) while I was dying of boredom in a different muggle motel room every day, James was really trying to sell the fact that he was actually in France. He was spending most afternoons and evenings there, going out with the twins to get wasted (or at least pretend to) on firewhiskey at some of the big wizarding clubs and do ridiculous things like shoot fireworks off the Eiffel Tower or start a fight with a vampire, all in hopes that some French tabloid might pick up on the fact that, oh, hey, that's Harry Potter's son. News would spread fast that way, and be much harder to deny than anything else.

We'd talked about maybe sending his family a letter, to drive it home, though that would waste an entire day at least. No matter what he said, we were pretty sure his mum would come track him down. That was probably why he hadn't already owled them, honestly; he wouldn't have admitted it, and I wasn't going to ask, but I had a feeling he didn't want to have to face his mum about all this, not just yet. She'd be very angry and hurt to find out he was apparently turning his back on the DA and their family. They all would.

So, that's why it had taken so long to get here. Now, as to why we were in Wales, I think that's a little obvious. That's where Stillens manor was, meaning it was somewhere I probably wouldn't be expected to go if I was running away. Running away wasn't my goal, though, of course. We were trying to rescue Wren. Our hope was that we might be able to figure out a way to do that by observing the different entrances to the tunnels, or even seeing if we could get close enough to the manor itself to scope out the property. After all, we had the cloak, and a spell to silence our footsteps. At the very least, even if there were spells to keep us off the grounds of the manor, we could stake out the tunnel entrances without being seen. We were going to be much more careful about it, of course. I still didn't know how we'd been detected before, if we'd been seen or if we'd tripped some sort of magical alarm system. I wanted to know.

Our first destination was Porth, where Justus Purdue's house was. We found a nice inn owned by an older couple who didn't ask too many questions. I think they thought we'd run off together to elope or something, and wanted to give us privacy. Of course, that was absolutely hilarious to us, but also meant it was far less likely that they'd be concerned if we were secretive and avoidant of people. It was slightly annoying when they "accidentally" gave us a room with only one bed, even though we'd specifically asked for two, but when we went to have it fixed, the man just winked and apologized as he moved us to another room.

Our first few days were spent taking turns spying out Justus Purdue's house from underneath the invisibility cloak. We bought a camera, and one night James managed to get up on the roof of one of the houses across the alley from Purdue's to set it up. We wanted to watch the traffic going into that shed, see if we could figure out where it was being watched from, if anywhere. James also brought back some books from the Dubois twins' parents' library about how to set up and detect magical security measures, which we spent hours poring over.

Though he'd tamped down the relentless optimism, James still seemed to be in a good mood most of the time. I could only blame the fact that he was still jetting off to France every other day or so. I tried my hardest to not be upset with him about it, but I have to admit it was hard. I wanted to be able to leave, to go see our friends and have fun. No matter how much he protested, I couldn't quite believe that most of the time he was spending in France was completely miserable, because he never seemed miserable here. In fact, most of the time, he was trying to cheer me up, as if anything possibly could.

Worse, I was basically confined to the inn when he left, because he'd made me promise to not go anywhere by myself. I was confident that no one would notice me, but James was very insistent that he didn't want anything to happen to me, and told me he'd never forgive himself if something did, and he'd feel responsible, and basically guilted me into agreeing to sit around and do nothing whenever he was gone. Even the letters he brought back from François and Amélie (who thought this was all a deliciously fun secret) didn't really help.

At the beginning of August, James finally decided to send his mum an owl. We spent three hours that night figuring out what to say. It couldn't be angry, but it also couldn't be apologetic. It couldn't give them any reason to think James might reconsider. It basically needed to hurt as much as it possibly could.

"I'm going to have to be in France when I send it," James pointed out as he finally signed his name.

"Well, yeah. We don't have an owl here, do we?"

James nodded. "Yeah, there's that. But... I mean, you know Mum's going to come find me. I'll have to wait that out in France."

"Oh. Right." I'd be stuck here for forever, then.

"She'll probably come right away," James said. He wasn't looking at me, but at the letter, like maybe he didn't know if that was true. "I'm sure I'll be back here by tomorrow morning."

"How long does it even take an owl to fly from France to Britain?"

"Probably overnight."

"So she won't even get it until tomorrow morning."

"Well, I mean, yeah." James glanced at me. "I really think I should send it, though. Now, I mean. I don't want them to find out through someone else, and Mum to apparate over there and not find me. How would we explain that?"

He was right, but I didn't want to admit it. Why was I being stubborn? I could spend a night here by myself. Surely I could find something to entertain myself with. And James did need to do this. If his mum tried to find him in France when he wasn't there, his whole plan would fall apart. He needed to be the one who controlled that.

"I mean, whatever," I said sullenly, unsure why I was so frustrated.

"I'll probably head over there tonight, then. If I want it to show up around breakfast, I probably want to send it later tonight." James ventured a smile, but it faltered when my expression didn't change. "We can go check on the camera before I go, maybe?"

"If you want, I guess."

He faltered. "We don't have to."

"I don't care."

James studied me for a moment, then shook his head. "You know, I don't have to be here, Astra. Acting like a prat isn't going to make me want to stick around."

"Then leave, if you want to so badly," I snapped.

"I don't want to. Why on earth do you think I'm alienating my entire family, except that I want to be here?"

"Then I don't see what your problem is," I said with a roll of my eyes. "Sorry this isn't as fun and cheery as you thought it would be. Were you expecting a holiday?"

"Of course not, Astra—"

"No, you just made sure to work in time for your own holiday, didn't you?"

"That's not what I'm—"

"Must be nice, getting to go pretend life is normal and everything is fine and you can do whatever you want! Sorry that I'm getting a little fed up with you getting to go off and have a great time while I'm stuck here doing even less than the little I'm normally able to do!"

"You think I'm having a great time?" James had raised his voice. "You think I can possibly be having a great time right now?"

"That's what it looks like."

"Oh, is it?" He narrowed his eyes. "That's not what's happening. You think I can get out of my head for one second? You think it's not absolute torture to go act like that life is normal, that I don't have a care in the world? You think it's not awful to have to sit there and pretend that I'm giving up everything I've ever believed in? Do you think that's a holiday, Astra? It's not. I didn't even get to see my dad's body. I didn't get any type of closure. I can't remember if I told him I loved him the last time I saw him. I know I didn't tell Wren. And I know you were there, and I know it was horrible, but I had to sit there and listen to them torture her, after the barrier came down. I had to listen to her screaming, in pain, and be utterly helpless. I can't sleep anymore, and it's because I hear her. I can't think, because every time I do I think about Dad. I can't do anything, because everything reminds me of them, and how I never even got to say goodbye. Please tell me exactly how much bloody partying I have to do to make those things stop haunting every single moment of my life!"

In the face of that torrent, more emotional depth than I'd gotten from him for weeks now, I could only blink at him. Why had it never occurred to me until just now that James might be struggling as much as I was? He'd lost his dad, and his girlfriend. I'd lost a mentor and a best friend, which was also hard, but even if it was totally different, I should have realized James had been faking the good attitude. He'd said as much the day we set out, that he was just trying to focus on the good, to keep everything else at bay. Why hadn't I noticed?

"I'm sorry," I said softly. "I wasn't thinking."

James had released the tension in his shoulders, slumping down a little. He glanced over at me. "It's okay. It's not your fault."

"Really, I know you're not just going to have fun and skip out on what needs to be done. I understand."

"I know you do. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up." He sighed and shook his head. "I don't really know how to handle all this, you know. Death. Loss. I feel like I should, but I don't. It's okay if you don't either."

"We can figure it out together."

"Yeah." James smiled a little. "We can."

Having released some of the tension I'd been holding onto for weeks now, I felt a little better now. I glanced over at the clock. "It's almost 9:30, so if you want to go check the camera tonight, we should probably go soon."

James's eyes grew wide. "9:30?"

I nodded, but he had jumped up before I could actually respond. He rummaged through his bag. I couldn't see what he pulled out, and his hand was shielded by his body as he glanced back at me. "I'll just use the bathroom quickly, then."

I didn't even have time to figure out what to ask before the bathroom door was closing. I blinked at the empty room for a moment. What had just happened? After a moment, I got up and walked over to the door.

There was a low murmur coming from behind the closed door, as if James was talking to someone. I frowned, then glanced back at the bed where his phone was lying. He hadn't called anyone, so what could he be doing?

I knocked lightly on the door. "James?"

"Just a second, Amélie!"

I blinked at the door. Had he just... What was going on?

Before I could knock again, James quickly opened the door. I raised an eyebrow at him. His face was red, and he moved past me quickly to go sit on the bed, avoiding my eyes. His fist was clenched tightly around something, though I couldn't imagine what.

"What were you doing?"

He hesitated, then sighed and held up his hand. As he relaxed his grip, I realized he was holding Wren's mirror. Oh.

"I know, I know. It's stupid." He sighed. "It's always black, when it's open. Not reflecting anything. I can't ever hear or see anything. I don't know if it even works. But... I mean, if there's even the slightest chance she might still be seeing it..."

I slowly sat down next to him on the bed. "That makes sense."

"I swear, I'm not being reckless with it. I'm making sure no one would be able to tell where I am, or who I'm with. I'm not saying anything important."

"I'm sure you are." I nodded. "You don't need to explain, James."

"I just..." His voice cracked, and I realized he was tearing up. "I want her to know I'm not going to forget her."

"I'm sure she knows that, James."

"I want to remind her, then." He shrugged. "I... I know it's dumb, okay. I know they probably smashed the pair, or threw it out. She probably doesn't have it anymore. But on the off chance she does, I want to tell her I love her, and I'm not giving up."

"I get it. Really. I don't think that's dumb, James."

"Sorry I didn't tell you."

"It's okay." I patted his shoulder. "You do this every night?"

He nodded. "And in the morning. I try to be consistent with time, too, just in case that would help her see it."

"And you told her you're in France?"

"I haven't said that, no, but I kind of panicked when you knocked." James chuckled, though he didn't seem to be finding it that funny. "Should I have not said that?"

I shrugged. "I mean, I think it was good if anyone else was listening."

"But what must Wren think?"

"I don't know. She wouldn't have any idea why you're in France, would she?"

"Probably not. Though it'll probably be public knowledge, soon. I bet they'd tell her, then, maybe see if that might break her." He sighed. "That's all provided she's still alive, of course."

"She is. I know it."

"How?"

"I... I just do." I sighed. "I don't think Stillens would let her die that quickly."

"Oh." James's face had grown white. "I hadn't been thinking about it that way."

My stomach twisted; I hadn't meant to make it worse. Just because I was still having nightmares about her every night didn't mean they were even real, after all. Maybe it wasn't so bad?

But I knew even as I thought it that I was just trying to make myself feel better. This was Caymus Stillens we were talking about. He was going to make Wren suffer unimaginably. Whether my dreams were real or not was irrelevant, because she was certainly being hurt just as badly, if not in worse ways than I could dream up.

"Hey, that's why we're doing this," James said. "We're going to rescue her."

I realized he was watching me, and turned my face away. "Yeah."

"We will. We'll find a way."

I wasn't sure I believed him, but nodded anyway. If he was about to face the wrath of his mum, the last thing he needed to be worrying about was me, too. Or Wren. I forced a smile before I glanced back at him. "What time are you wanting the letter to show up again? You probably need to head out soon."

James glanced up at the clock; it was nearly ten, now. "Yeah. I guess you're right." He smiled apologetically. "We can check the camera as soon as I'm back, if you want."

I gave an exaggerated sigh, like overdoing this emotion might distract me from all the others. "Okay. Sure."

He got up and slung his bag over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow. Wish me luck."

"You got this." I gave him a thumbs up, which made him smile. Then he pulled his wand out, turned on his heel, and disappeared with a crack.

I spent a while trying to focus on a show I'd heard River raving about last term, but after about an hour I hadn't been able to pay attention to any of it. Probably best to just go to bed, then. With a sigh, I flicked the light off and climbed into my bed. Maybe tonight I'd actually be able to sleep.

"Who is your secret keeper?"

I started; I'd just closed my eyes, so how could I already be dreaming? Yet here I was, in the small room that had become familiar over the past month or so. Tonight was one of the nights when it looked clearer, too, which didn't bode well. I slowly turned around.

Wren was tied to a chair, though it seemed like the ropes were the only things keeping her from falling out. She was shaking spastically, whimpering, with tears staining her cheeks. But still, she shook her head. Not broken yet. I heard a crack, and turned to see Zaria Hempsey, holding what looked like a glowing, electric whip. My breath caught and my eyes widened as she cracked it against the floor again. "Are there any more DA members at Hogwarts?"

Wren had cowered at the sound of the crack, and now she kept her head down. Zaria raised an eyebrow. "All right, then." She swung the whip around, and it lashed across Wren's head and shoulders. Unlike a normal whip, though, this seemed to latch on to her, electricity coursing over my friend. I winced as she screamed. I had to turn away, and tried to cover my ears, too, but it didn't help. I could still hear her.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only about a minute, the screaming subsided. I slowly turned around again to see Wren shaking, crying, sagging down in the chair as if she didn't have the strength to sit up anymore. I could see crackles of electricity still snaking through her hair, her clothes. The air smelled like something was burning.

"Who's your secret keeper?" Zaria demanded.

Silence. Wren was breathing quickly, blinking at the far wall, eyes dull as if she wasn't really seeing it. She flinched as Zaria cracked the whip against the floor again, but otherwise didn't react. Zaria smiled cruelly, and swung the whip around again. As Wren cried out, I found myself running forward, trying to make it stop, trying to pull the wand out of Zaria's hand. Of course, I ran right through her, but I was so worked up that I managed to run through the wall, too, and fall into darkness.

I sat straight up, still saying, "No!" even as I realized I was still in our room. It had been a dream. Not real. Well... probably real. But not something I could change...

I took a deep breath, then another. Wren was fine, surely. Surely she was okay. She hadn't broken yet, at least. Maybe... maybe she would be able to escape on her own.

I choked up, and only then realized my eyes were blurring. She was there because of me. I was the one who had dragged her to the manor, and I was the one who had left her there. She was being tortured and abused and manipulated in horrible ways and it was my fault. Worse, she'd known how bad it would be. She'd asked me to kill her. I hadn't even been able to do that.

I reached over to turn the lamp on. The light seemed weak, hardly reaching the corners of the room. It certainly wasn't bright enough to banish the darkness from my mind. I pulled my knees up to my chest, crying into my arms. It's my fault it's my fault it's my fault it's my fault. And I couldn't do anything about it.

Eventually, the dim light and lowing ticking of the clock managed to be a little soothing. My breathing slowed, and eventually I could look up, wipe my tears, take a breath without sobbing.

I needed to distract myself. It was just a little past one in the morning, and there was no way I'd be able to go back to sleep tonight. I wanted to be thinking about anything other than Wren, anything other than the crushing guilt that was weighing down on my chest and making it difficult to breathe. Of course, I could try to do something on the phone, but I didn't think that would help.

But there, bundled up under a chair, was the invisibility cloak. I felt a pang; I'd promised I wouldn't go anywhere. But surely it would be fine, right? What was the worst that could happen? Besides, I needed to get out of this stifling room. I wasn't going to be reckless. I could go check the camera, or at least go walk around. No one would even notice me.

"It'll be fine," I muttered, climbing out of bed to find some real clothes. "What James doesn't know won't hurt him."

I put on my black jacket and pulled the hood down over my face. The invisibility cloak I stuffed into my bag. No need to give the innkeepers a heart attack with the door opening and closing on its own. I could slip into an alley outside and throw it on if I needed to. What were the odds anyone would even notice me, though? James and I had never had any more trouble than a leering drunk muggle once, and he'd been easily taken care of with a quick stupefy. While there were plenty of teenagers up to no good and drunk people wandering around, most of them didn't spare us a second glance.

I made it to Purdue's street with no trouble, and no need to pull the cloak out. That was just as well; it was always more nerve-wracking to walk along in the cloak, being careful it didn't flap up around my feet. You had to walk much slower in the cloak than I could in jeans and a hoodie. Besides, I felt like I blended in pretty well.

Getting up on the roof to check the camera was easy. We'd discovered that the old lady who lived alone in the last house on the row slept like the dead, and did not notice if we climbed up her trellis. There weren't streetlights in the alley, either, and with muffliato cast, you could hardly tell anyone was climbing up to the roof at all, unless you were looking for it. We just looked like shadows.

Once I was up there, I crept over to where we'd set up the camera. It was very inconspicuous, I thought. You could barely see it from the ground. I carefully pulled it off the platform we'd set up, then backed into the shadow of the roof to play back what it had captured over the past day.

We'd caught a steady stream of people, at least two or three a day, appearing from or disappearing into the shed. We'd identified some of them, known accomplices of the Predatels from America. We'd also occasionally caught sight of curtains moving in Purdue's house, making us suspect he had someone there, watching it.

There wasn't much new in the recordings from that day. I skimmed through, pausing briefly when people appeared to see if I recognize them. There was Vane Hellion, going back in. A group of people I didn't recognize leaving. Then someone in a cloak. I couldn't see their face well, and tried to zoom in, but it didn't help. I frowned. Maybe when they went back, we'd get a better look.

After making sure the camera was still plugged in (couldn't have it dying on us) and setting it back up, there wasn't much else to do except head back to the inn. I climbed back down the trellis, then pulled my hood down and clutched my bag tighter over my shoulder. Honestly, I was feeling a lot better. It was close to three, I was pretty sure. Maybe, by the time I got back I'd be so worn out I could actually sleep without dreaming for a few hours.

I was walking along the next street when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I paused, frowning. Was someone there? I glanced around, but didn't see anyone. In fact, the street I was on seemed eerily quiet, even for the middle of the night. No cats running around, no wind in the trees. Worse, I had an uncanny feeling that I was being watched, which I'd never felt here before. Slowly, I spun around, searching every shadow and alley for a sign of someone, something out of place.

But who would even be watching? If it was one of Stillens' people, they'd have already ambushed me, right? Besides, I looked like a muggle. The worst thing I had to worry about was drunken men, right? And even if there were any of those here, on this very respectable neighborhood street, I could knock one out pretty easily.

That was what it was, surely. I thought I saw a darker shadow in a nearby alley, and squinted to see it more clearly. It was just a guy trying to be creepy, surely, living out some weird horror movie fetish. I took a step closer to the alley, peering into the dark.

There was a flash of light from behind me, and I whirled around as the closest streetlight went out with a loud bang. I bit down a shriek, and resisted the urge to reach for my wand. No need to give myself away just yet.

Another streetlight exploded across the street, plunging me further into darkness. I cursed quietly, then glanced over my shoulder, back at the alley. As yet another light went out, I saw a girl in a cloak, moving into the middle of the street. She couldn't have been older than James, I thought, in the brief second I stared at her. She was holding a wand, hardly flicking it at the streetlights before they went out. She was advancing, stepping over broken glass, not paying attention to the fact that lights had started to come on in many of the houses around us. And she was staring directly at me.

I turned and ran.

It probably would've been a good time to apparate, I know, but I didn't trust myself to do that. For one thing, it would be horrible to splinch myself right here, and I couldn't think of anywhere to go, and what if a muggle looked out and saw it happen? That would break the statute of secrecy. For another, I really wasn't sure that I could apparate on my own anymore.

So, if I couldn't apparate, what were my options? Run, or fight. Fighting seemed like a bad idea; it would only be a few seconds before the muggles started emerging from their houses, wondering what was going on. Who knows what kind of electrical accident they would think had caused this. But I couldn't run forever. As I picked up my face, I heard running footsteps behind me. Whoever this girl was, I didn't want to lead her back to the inn.

So, what could I do?

I veered off into the next alley without really thinking about it. I was starting to hear noises from the houses, and didn't really want to be out on the street when they started coming out. But as soon as I was out of the girl's sight, I realized there might be a third option. As quickly as I could, I flipped my backpack off my shoulder, pulled the cloak out, threw it over myself, and darted back out of the alley.

The girl was so close that I nearly collided with her, but she didn't sense me as I dodged her, then froze on the edge of the pavement. If I stepped on the grass, she might see my footprints. Better to wait till she left. Holding my breath, I watched her stop in the alleyway and glance around quickly. I heard her curse (sounded like an American). As doors started opening up and down the street, she shot a glance over her shoulder, then apparated away.

I stayed frozen for several more moments, trying to still my breathing as the muggles started calling to each other from their porches, trying to figure out what was going on. When I could move again without falling over, I slowly crept through the chaos. I didn't take the cloak off until I was safely back in our room, with the door double-bolted.

As I sank down on the bed, I groaned. Who had that been? How had she known I was there? Did she think I was alone? Did she work for Stillens? She must, right, or else I couldn't think of a reason she'd been following me. What did she want?

And, somehow worse, what on earth was I going to tell James?

~~~~

Question of the Day: It's currently no nuance November, so give me your hottest takes and feel no need to defend yourself to anyone!

Answer: Wow, so many to choose from, I'll just give you all the ones I can think of right now.

- The Last Jedi is the best Star Wars movie.

- Champions Marcus wasn't actually that bad of a boyfriend. Astra just wasn't ready to be in a relationship.

- Snape wouldn't be that bad of a character if Rowling hadn't tried to make him out to be a hero.

- Children's books are often better than YA or adult fiction.

- The Hunger Games was incredibly good social commentary and shouldn't be lumped in with all the copy cat YA dystopias that came after it.

- American politics is a mess and both parties are corrupt and hypocritical.

- Zuko and Katara from Avatar the Last Airbender should have ended up together.

- Anakin Skywalker is hecking hot and I completely understand why Padme abandoned all reason to simp for him.

- Privilege is influenced by your socioeconomic status more than anything else, but people of color are disproportionately more likely to be of a lower socioeconomic status than white people, and that's what the bulk of white privilege really means.

- Slytherin is not the edgy house; that's Gryffindor.

- Ravenclaw is not the preppy house; that's Slytherin.

- Hufflepuff is not the stoner house; that's also Gryffindor.

- Writing fanfiction should be socially acceptable, not mocked.

- Diversity in fiction is not that hard to accomplish, especially in stories that aren't set in our world.

- Expectations for online school should not be the same as they were for in-person school, and the fact that they are the same is causing a lot of burnout and mental health issues in students and teachers.

- Those cringy "What are you doing in ___ years? I don't know, I don't have 2020 vision" jokes everyone has been making for the past five years are objectively hilarious now and only get more so as the year goes on.

Vote and comment!

~Elli

Word count: 5044