~Astra~

I didn't have any more dreams, prophetic or otherwise. That didn't stop Mr. Potter from making me meet with Trelawney over the holidays. Luckily, he suggested we both come to his house; I was not interested to see what kind of gypsy shack she lived in. I really must be a seer, because as I predicted, it did not help at all. Trelawney simply made me recount everything in detail, then began to examine what the metaphorical elements might be. Wasn't super helpful when my dreams were always very literal, and there was no reason now would not be the same.

Being completely out of control was frustrating. Trelawney had been our best shot, it seemed, and she was completely unhelpful. Now, I could do nothing except brace myself for another dream, or worse, another episode.

"We can just make sure you're never alone," Colette suggested, a few nights into the term. James and Wren were off somewhere with James's friends, so it was just the three of us. Albus and Colette were partaking in their favorite pastime: brainstorming the same worthless ideas to help me.

"That doesn't help," I pointed out.

"It... It could," Albus said, frowning. "Maybe we could notice who's casting the spell!"

"I mean, maybe." I shook my head. "If I dreamed it, it's going to happen, though."

"Not necessarily," Colette said. "Prophecies don't work like that. Their power is in people's belief in them, and many of them end up being self-fulfilling. As soon as someone hears about it, they're doomed to fulfill it."

"This isn't a prophecy," I snapped. Colette frowned at me, and I took a deep breath. "Sorry. But I'm right. This isn't a prophecy. We don't know if my dreams work the same."

"We can hope, can't we?" Albus asked.

"I'm really getting tired of hope."

Albus and Colette glanced at each other. I was starting to recognize that look. The "oh, be careful how you approach this" look. The "she's on this again" look. The "why is she like this" look. It was very similar to one we all tended to give each other around Wren, when she was being self-destructive or too hard on herself, when we wanted to scold her but also felt like she might break if we did. I was finally beginning to understand why she always seemed annoyed when we did that.

"Astra, I know it's hard to deal with this," Colette started, "but—"

"Do you know?" I stood up. "Do you actually get it? Because I think you really don't."

"I mean, sure, I don't understand what it feels like to be in this exact situation," Colette said sharply. "But I've been powerless before."

"Powerless to stop yourself from hurting people? That's what this is, Colette. You don't get it."

"You can't give up hope," Albus said. "We have to keep trying to find a way to fix this."

"What if we can't?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But what if we can?"

I wanted to have hope. I wanted to believe that this wasn't so bad, that we would find a way to overcome whatever was going on with me. But at some point we'd have to face the facts, right? I wasn't a child, and I couldn't pretend this wasn't happening. At some point we'd have to go from damage prevention to damage control. And if preventing something was impossible, our primary focus needed to be minimizing the amount of damage I did.

"We have to keep having hope, Astra," Colette said. She made a face. "I hate that's it's all we can do, but if we accept the alternative that means we'd have to simply isolate you from everyone. Make it so you can't hurt anyone because you're not around them. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to accept that that's our only option here."

"Me neither," Albus echoed. "We have to try to find a way to fix this, Astra."

"Do whatever you want." I picked up my book bag and swung it over my shoulder. "I'm going to bed."

I went to bed, but didn't sleep. I did the right thing, the best thing, and it didn't help. I couldn't reconcile that in my mind. I hadn't wanted to talk to Trelawney, but Mr. Potter had convinced me it was the best idea. The only thing we could do. But nothing had changed. There was nothing I could do to stop this anymore. That had been our last resort, short of locking me up until these episodes stopped. If they ever stopped.

I didn't want to believe there wasn't anything I could do, but there wasn't. And Colette and Albus and Wren and James could pretend all they wanted, try to find solutions, but it wouldn't change the fact that we were all completely helpless.

I laughed dully at the thought. That creepy little girl I kept dreaming about wanted me to help her, but I couldn't even help myself.

~~~~

The next day, Colette was giving me her usual: the silent treatment. She clearly wanted me to admit I was wrong, to "have hope" and try to fix everything. She didn't understand that I couldn't control when these episodes happened, or what I did when they were going on.

Luckily, she'd done this so much that I was starting to become immune to the silent treatment at this point. Of course, Wren and Albus's annoyance with the situation was still enough to wear me down after a while, but I was determined to not give in. I told Colette to do something crude the first time she ignored my good morning, then ignored her right back for the rest of the day. Wren and Albus eventually gave up and carried on as if neither of us existed.

We had Charms that day. Haverna was as insufferable, but not stiflingly so. She merely glared at Albus and I when she caught us whispering during her lecture, instead of calling us out in front of the class and giving us detention. Actually, I couldn't remember the last time she'd given me detention. Was that because I'd made it my goal to actually try in Charms, just to piss her off, or because she was simply mellowing out? I didn't know, but as long as I wasn't getting detention every other day, it didn't matter.

After class, Wren said something about needing to talk to Haverna, then slipped up to the front. I glanced at Albus and Colette, who both seemed as confused as I felt. Why on earth did she need to talk to Haverna? Surely Wren wasn't worried about her grades.

I glanced up to the front of the room, where Wren was standing at Haverna's desk, waiting for the last students to file out. I couldn't hear what she said, but I could see Haverna's expression, changing from confusion to surprise to seriousness. She nodded and said something I couldn't hear, but that made Wren smile. As she started walking back towards us, Haverna said, "I'll discuss it with Potter, all right?"

"Thank you," Wren said, smiling at her as she picked up her bag. Then she turned and left, leaving us to follow, as if that wasn't the oddest interaction we'd seen in forever.

"What was that?" Albus asked when we'd caught up to her.

"Oh, um, nothing," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Not a big deal."

You see, I would have believed her, except she had smiled at and thanked Haverna, so... I shook my head. "Wren, really?"

"It's nothing, okay?" Wren clutched the strap of her book bag tightly enough to contradict her words.

"Do you think we're stupid?" Colette asked, stepping in front of Wren to stop her. "What's going on?"

"Yeah, Haverna didn't even seem annoyed by you," Albus said. "Is it that serious?"

Wren glanced between the three of us, as if searching for a way out, then she sighed and closed her eyes. "Not here."

Two minutes later, we were secluded on one of the hidden staircases. "Okay?" I asked. "So? What is it?"

Wren seemed vaguely annoyed, or worried, or both. "Don't get mad, please."

That made me pause. "Mad? Wren, what did you—"

"At least understand why I couldn't pick any of you," she went on, cutting me off. "Mr. Potter thinks it might be a good idea to do a fidelius charm."

Albus blinked. "On... on what? You? You being a spy?"

Wren nodded, avoiding our eyes. "I also think it might be a good idea. One less thing I have to worry about keeping from Stillens."

"Is there a reason he's decided this now?" Colette asked.

Wren took a deep breath. "Well... I mean, yes. I've been... slightly... unstable, I suppose, that's the word. Since everything with Magnus Caldwell..."

I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder, but she tensed up. I drew my arm back, pursing my lips. "Are you sure you can handle yourself there?"

"I mean, I did last time," she said, shrugging. "There isn't much choice. I either can, or I'll die."

The three of us exchanged a wary glance. If her mental state was that bad, I personally felt like it was time to pull her out. Maybe Mr. Potter thought she could handle it, and maybe she did, but... I didn't like hearing one of my best friends talking so casually about her own death.

Albus shook his head. "Who is it?"

"The secret keeper?" Wren glanced at me. "Do you know how this charm works, Astra?" I shook my head. "Well, basically it ties some secret to a single person. No one else can reveal that information to anyone, by any means. Including having it seen by legilimency."

"Okay," I said, aware that she was dodging Albus's question. "So who's going to be your secret keeper?"

Wren bit her lip, and Colette groaned. "It's Haverna, isn't it? Wren!"

"Please don't be mad," Wren said, taking a step back. "If you think about it, she makes the most sense..."

"Why, because she hates all of us?" Albus asked.

"You could have chosen one of us, couldn't you?" I asked.

Wren shook her head. "I could not have. Mr. Potter wouldn't have approved. And Haverna doesn't hate all of us." I raised my eyebrow. "At least, she doesn't hate me," Wren amended. "She would never be suspected, either."

"That's true," Colette admitted. "No one would ever accuse Haverna of being in the DA."

"So Dad decided for you?" Albus asked.

She shook her head. "I chose her."

"Why, though?" I held up my hand as she opened her mouth. "No, I get the logistics, that she wouldn't be suspected and all that. But why her? Plenty of other people are deep undercover in the DA, and people don't suspect them."

"I... I don't know." Wren twisted the strap of her book bag reflexively. "She... There aren't a lot of people that actually care about me, you know, beyond using me to get to my uncle or to Mr. Potter. Haverna... I guess she seems like she actually cares."

"She does not," I said, trying not to sound frustrated. "I promise, she doesn't."

"You don't know, actually. Just because she doesn't like you doesn't mean she has to dislike everyone you like."

"But she's consistently hated you, too, Wren. Not just me."

"Not recently, she hasn't. She didn't like me because she thought I was criminal, but now she knows I'm on her side. I'm not like you three. I don't try to annoy her during class, or go break the only rule she's ever given me, or go out of my way to say something disrespectful. She doesn't have a reason to dislike me anymore."

Albus frowned. "Wren, I think you might be reading too much into everything."

Wren shook her head. "You weren't there the night Caldwell happened, okay? Maybe I'm being arrogant and assuming people think better of me than they actually do. Fine. Whatever. But you weren't there, and you didn't see her. She and Mr. Potter were both equally worried about me, far more than anyone would be who only cared about how useful I was. I don't have any problem trusting this with her, and if you have a problem, you can take it up with Mr. Potter, because I'm done arguing."

With that, she turned marched off. We stood there blinking for a moment, then hurried to follow her (we were going to be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts, at this rate). Wren ignored our quiet grumblings as we walked through thinning crowds of students in the corridors.

It had just hit me that the frustration and made Colette forget she was giving me the silent treatment when my mind flooded with a warm and fuzzy blurriness, and I slowed to a stop.

Cast a spell, a voice in my head told me.

What spell? I thought. Why?

Morstimulus, the voice replied. It didn't answer why.

I don't know that spell, I thought. Something was tugging at the back of my mind. Was there a reason? Should I have known this spell? The vaguest of red flags was being waved in the recesses of my mind, but I easily shoved it away. I was too happy to be worried about anything right now.

Just try it, the voice said. Aim at the girl over there, the one with the blue streaks in her hair. And mean it. Really mean it.

I couldn't actually see the girl (Colette?) but I knew where she was. Someone was calling my name, their voice sounding like it was traveling through the deepest ocean to reach me.

Cast the spell, the voice said insistently.

But—

Do it.

I—

Cast it!

I cast the spell.

The fog lifted immediately, just in time for me to see my jinx hit Colette in the side. She gasped and stumbled into Albus. A few people had shrieked. Several scattered, and several more were backing away but gaping at me. Albus, Colette, and Wren slowly turned to stare at me, Colette wincing with the effort. The stinging jinx, that's what Morstimulus was. And I'd known that because I'd dreamed about it, months ago...

I was breathing too quickly, shallow breaths. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. I'd just hexed one of my closest friends. Wren pushed past Albus and Colette to come grab my arm. "Astra, breath, okay? Everything's fine."

"Hey! All of you!" Albus glared at the student smiling about, watching. "Off to class, before I start taking points!" That cleared the hallway in about five seconds.

I managed to steady my breathing, "I'm sorry, Colette, I'm so sorry, I don't know, it was another episode, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay," Colette said, grimacing. About half her body was shaking, almost convulsively. "That was a pretty powerful stinging jinx, considering you've never cast it in your life."

"Are you all right?" Albus asked, frowning at her. "I think we should get you to the hospital wing."

"I'll be fine," she said, shaking her head quickly.

I glanced at Wren. "What's a stinging jinx normally supposed to do?"

Wren was staring at Colette, eyes wide. "Not that..."

"What do you mean, 'not that'?" Albus asked. He had grabbed Colette's arm to hold her steady, and though she looked like she wanted to push him away, she was shaking a bit too much to do anything about it.

"I mean..." Wren shook her head. "A normal stinging jinx will sting the moment it makes contact, then simply swell up and become almost like a rash. It goes away after ten minutes or so."

"Well this is definitely still stinging," Colette said, gritting her teeth.

Wren glanced at me. "Theoretically, I suppose a powerful stinging jinx would work like that..."

Albus shook his head. "Okay, well, we're going to the hospital wing, and we can talk about it there."

"No!" Colette exclaimed, finally pulling away from him. "I'm fine, okay?" She started walking away, to prove it, but her leg gave out, and she ended up stumbling. Albus hurried over to help her up, then shot a worried glance at Wren.

Five minutes later, we were huddled on an adjacent bed in the hospital wing as Madam Cantha tried to puzzle out exactly what was going on with Colette. We'd explained it was a stinging jinx, but Cantha said it was a stinging jinx beyond what she'd ever seen, and if we were going around shooting each other with jinxes, it might be best to talk to the headmistress.

"No, don't," Colette said quickly. "It was an accident. I'm fine."

Madam Cantha frowned at her. "You most certainly are not."

"But if Colette doesn't care about telling the headmistress, we don't have to, right?" Albus asked, shooting a worried glance in my direction.

Madam Cantha frowned at the three of us, then at Colette. "I don't see why she would care if I did."

"Don't," Colette said. "I don't want to talk to her."

"If you didn't do anything wrong, there shouldn't be a problem," Madam Cantha said briskly. She frowned at Colette. "There isn't a counterspell for the stinging jinx. You'll have to wait it out. Hopefully it'll wane soon. I can give you a potion to ease the pain." With that, she walked off towards her office at the end of the wing.

"This is great," Colette said sarcastically. "Just perfect."

"I'm sorry..." I bit my lip. "I... I'm really sorry. I couldn't control it."

"I know," Colette snapped. "It's not your fault, whatever. I think I have the right to say I told you so."

"Yeah." I looked down. She had known I would hurt someone. She told me. "I'm sorry."

"Did either of you notice who was casting the spell?" Wren asked quietly.

Albus shook his head, and Colette said, "No. It took a second to even realize what was happening, and that wasn't until she was casting the spell."

"It was really powerful," Albus said. "I mean, I suppose it makes sense. You're really good at magic."

Wren frowned. "I know a lot of people who are really good with magic, Al. This is worse than any stinging jinx I've ever seen."

Colette winced. "Maybe these episodes lower her inhibitions."

"What?" I asked.

"Like... Maybe it takes away that subconscious part of you that normally would keep you from going too far, casting so powerful a spell."

Wren nodded. "That makes sense. It's kind of like how, theoretically, you could break your own arm." I rolled my eyes, and she pursed her lips. "Theoretically, you could, at any time. But normally your brain won't allow you to use that much force on yourself."

"But when you have these episodes, that part of your brain clearly isn't doing its job," Albus said, eyes wide.

"So maybe nothing's holding you back from using full force when you cast spells," Wren said.

I glanced at Colette, who wasn't shaking quite as much, but was still grimacing with pain. I'd done that to her. Much worse than a normal stinging jinx. Was I really capable of that? If I could make a stinging jinx last nearly twenty minutes, still going strong, then what else might I be capable of during these episodes? If I didn't have any rationality, even in the deepest parts of my subconscious... I felt my breathing start to quicken. I could hurt someone. I could kill someone.

"I need some fresh air," I said, abruptly standing up.

"Are you okay?" Albus asked, standing up as well.

I nodded, backing up. "Fine. I just..." I shook my head, then turned and hurried out. I could hear whispers as I stepped out the door, but didn't bother to listen. As soon as I was in the corridor, I started sprinting. I didn't know where I was going, necessarily. I headed towards the astronomy tower, since there would probably not be many people there this time of day.

It was calm up here. I could hear distant yells from the first year flying lessons, far below on the Quidditch pitch. It was chilly, but I was not about to go get my cloak. Cold let me think. Focus. Kept me grounded. Besides, I deserved to be cold.

I'd hurt Colette. Pretty badly, too, even if she wouldn't admit that. And if I could hurt one of my closest friends like that, what else was I capable of? What else could these episodes make me do?

Were they even making me do anything? I strained to remember what had happened. I felt an urge to cast the spell. I'd fought it for a few moments, but it had grown stronger. I gave in. What had caused that urge? Was it really a spell, like Colette thought? Or was this something inside me?

A voice floated through my head. Orion Lestrange... son of Voldemort... Stillens' words, from almost two years ago. A thought I'd completely put out of my head. I couldn't be descended Voldemort. I looked like Rodolphus Lestrange. So did my father. This was a ridiculous rumor, and I didn't believe it. I didn't.

But we didn't know what was going on. And so far, they hadn't been able to catch anyone in the act of performing a spell. Sure, we didn't know where Jasper was, and he might have cast the Imerpius curse from somewhere behind us in the corridor. But I didn't remember a voice. Unless he'd also wiped that specific part of my memory, which seemed unlikely and difficult, that explanation didn't check out.

So, if this wasn't a spell... Was it me? Was I going mad? Or something worse?

Someone couldn't be descended from such evil and not have some of it reside in them, could they? Maybe these episodes were simply a manifestation of that.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Voldemort was my father's father. Maybe Stillens was right. And maybe I was going to spiral deeper and deeper into the same darkness that had consumed Voldemort. I was my father perfected, Stillens had said. Descended from a split soul, but with muggle blood running through my veins, diluting it. I had never thought about what he meant by "perfected," but it occurred to me now that this madness might be exactly it. I could hurt people with no reservations. That sounded like Stillens idea of perfection.

I was startled out of my thoughts by a knock. I glanced up, confused, and saw Mr. Potter standing halfway up the stairs, frowning at me in concern. It looked like he'd knocked on the floor. "Astra? Mind if I come up?"

I pulled my legs up to my chest and shook my head. "Doesn't really matter, I guess."

He pursed his lips, then walked up the stairs and came over to sit near me, leaning against the low wall. "Everything all right?"

"I suppose they told you?"

He nodded. "Yes. When the four of you didn't show up to class, I checked the hospital wing and found all three of them. The spell's finally wearing off, by the way. Colette's doing better."

I shrugged, making a show at not caring, even though I was extremely happy to hear that. "Oh. Okay."

"Are you all right, though?"

I shrugged again. "What do you think?"

"I think probably not." He pursed his lips. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." I sighed. "It was just like the other times. I just felt an urge to cast the jinx. I can't remember if I was even aiming at anyone with particular or not." I shrugged. "Didn't even occur to me that I would hurt my friend, or that I should try to avoid that."

Mr. Potter frowned. "You can't remember anything else?"

"No."

"Albus, Wren, and Colette didn't notice anyone casting a spell." He ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose they might have missed someone..."

"Maybe Nico Jasper was there, hiding," I suggested.

"Nico actually made it to class early today," Mr. Potter said. "He was there the whole time."

"Oh." I blinked. So it wasn't him. It wasn't a spell. This was something else. "Oh, okay."

"We're going to figure out what's going on, Astra," Mr. Potter said, giving me a grim smile. "I promise. You're going to be okay."

"Maybe I really am going mad."

He shook his head. "I don't think so. You're stronger than that."

"Am I?" I didn't feel like it.

"Yes, you are," Mr. Potter said. "Don't worry, please. You haven't hurt anyone." He paused, and I heard the phantom word on the edge of his tongue. Yet. "Don't feel guilty, and don't be scared. We'll find out what all of this means soon."

Somehow, I wasn't comforted. But I knew he meant well, and Mr. Potter certainly had too much worry about for me to add a concern about my wellbeing. The least I could do would be to pretend I believed him. I forced a smile. "I hope so."

I wished I could hope.

~~~~

I eventually wandered down to the hospital wing to make sure Colette was all right. Mr. Potter had apparently convinced Madam Cantha that he would deal with the situation, and there was no need to get Kimmel involved, because Colette was both better and not pissed.

We helped her back to the common room, then Wren pulled me aside. "How are you doing?"

"I don't know," I said, making an effort not to roll my eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Please don't shut everyone out," Wren said quietly. "It won't end well."

"Oh, now you're predicting the future, too? I suppose you'll tell me you told me so, too, then."

She sighed. "That is not what I'm doing. I'm just trying to keep you from playing into exactly what Stillens wants."

I narrowed my eyes. "Stillens? Is this his fault?"

"I think so." Wren held her hand up. "Listen, I know Nico wasn't there. It couldn't have been him. I get that. But this is too big to be a coincidence. You can't just be going mad."

"Sorry to disappoint, but it kind of seems like I am."

Wren shook her head. "Astra, stop. He wants you to be unstable. Isolated. You can't give him what he wants."

"What else am I supposed to do?" I snapped. "There aren't a lot of ways to react when your own mind can't be trusted. It's a bit of an isolating and unstabling thing, don't you think?"

"This is how he wants you to react—"

"Then I guess I'm just giving him what he wants," I said, throwing my hands up in frustration. "Just another thing I can add to my long list of failures."

"You're not failing!" Wren closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was lower. "Astra, listen, you've got to think about this rationally, okay?"

"I'm not rational," I snapped. "You've told me so yourself a few too many times, if you recall."

"I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have, but I only did because I know you're capable of it."

I made a face. "See? Long list of failures."

"Stop being so stubborn," Wren whispered, glaring at me. "For all you know, acting like a prat will just make it that much easier for these episodes to happen."

"Strong language, Wren. Aren't you a little too perfect for that?"

She blinked. "What? Shut up."

"Come for me all you want. At least I'm honest about the fact that I want to be alone, don't want to talk about things. At least I respect you when you say the same thing. At least I admit when something's hopeless, and admit I don't know how to handle it. At least I'm not a liar."

Wren's lips were pursed tight, shock and anger dancing across her face. For a moment, she just stared at me, and I realized I'd managed to make her angry. Really angry. Considering she was the type of girl who could forgive Eris Prince... this was not good.

"You're talking about things you don't understand," she said softly. I'd never heard a whisper sound so sharp. "Talking about all of this like it's hypothetical. Like people aren't going to get hurt if Stillens gets what he wants. Like any purpose he could have for all of this wouldn't be the worst of evils." She clenched her fist. "You know what? I hope you do hurt someone. I hope you feel awful about it. I hope you feel every ounce of guilt. It might wake you up."

I stared at her, mouth hanging open. She couldn't mean that. She wouldn't say that. She... she knew I was doing all I could. You're not, a voice in my head told me.

Maybe I wasn't. But I wasn't about to admit it to Wren Predatel, not after this.

Wren's anger had dissipated almost immediately, and now she was just blinking at me, a look of horror slowly crossing her face. "I... I didn't mean that, I'm sor—"

"You wouldn't have said it if you didn't," I snapped. Before she could apologize, I turned and walked away. 

~~~~

Question of the Day: What would you smell in Amortentia?

Answer: Honestly? I don't know. Probably honeysuckle and fresh laundry and fruit or something. I don't really know.

Vote and comment and drop me some questions for questions of the day!

~Elli