~Astra~

The urge to curl up in a ball and spend the rest of my days nested under my blankets was getting stronger all the time.

Sure, I hadn't had any prophetic dreams in a while. In fact, there was only one more that hadn't happened already. Albus had suggested hopefully that this was the end, maybe there weren't any more dreams because nothing else would happen. I didn't believe that for a second. If this was part of some big plan on Stillens' part, he wouldn't stop now. I wasn't over the edge yet. I hadn't quite fallen into the pit of overwhelming isolation and despair he seemed to want me in. Teetering on the edge, yes, but not there yet.

I didn't know whether it was worse to know what was coming and not be able to stop it, or to face the unknown and be completely blindsided. Either way, I guess there wasn't anything I could do.

In other news, Wren had apparently seen the prime minister at her uncle's manor, proving he wasn't under the Imperius Curse. Faith put it in the Quibbler about two weeks later, citing a completely made up Ministry source. Russey was "confirmed to not be under the Imperius Curse, despite the vacant, stupid expression on his face at all times." It was enough to make the Prophet publish a counter-article making Russey out to be as good as the second coming of Christ.

I still was suffering through lessons with Trelawney. I use the word "lessons" loosely, because I was getting nothing out of them. She was trying to teach me how to interpret dreams, as if my dreams weren't the most straight-forward dreams ever. I couldn't help feeling like I was wasting my time as we spent hours pouring over symbolism. Babies meant new beginnings, crosses were the end of a phase of life, falling was anxiety over a lack of control. I wasn't dreaming about any of those things. I didn't see why this was important.

I hadn't told Trelawney about my dreams with One. I hadn't figured out what they were, or why. I'd never had dreams like those before. I really didn't want to sit around for hours listening to Trelawney going over the symbolism of a dark void and not being able to see or hear. I wasn't sure that it was that deep.

I did write to my dad about them, though. He wrote back that he'd never heard anything like that, but to be wary of her if I had any more dreams about her. The fact that she'd freaked out so much over me mentioning Stillens didn't bode well. If she was a real person, and not just my exhausted and paranoid imagination, or worse, another way Stillens was somehow getting into my head, I needed to be careful.

There didn't seem to be much I could do about anything. My dreams about One came on their own whims (or maybe her own whims), and I couldn't control them. I also couldn't control when the next episode would be. I couldn't do anything about the rapidly brewing war. I couldn't do anything about the fact that Madam Cantha was apparently working for Stillens. I couldn't help fight, or get information, or protect anyone. I couldn't do anything. About anything. I just had to go to class, do my assignments, and act like everything was fine when the world was really crashing down and my own mind felt like a churning hurricane of chaos without an eye of peace in the middle of the storm.

I honestly envied Wren the fact that she could do something about all of this. I wouldn't have told her that, of course, because I knew she didn't enjoy it and it was dangerous and I didn't want to make her mad, but I was tired of feeling useless and confused. And scared. I was scared most of all.

That might have been why I was throwing myself so deeply into research. Not for school, of course; I didn't really care about that. Colette and I were going through every article in the Quibbler about missing muggles, with help from Albus and Poppy.

We'd discovered a few things. First, so far every person whose body hadn't been found was a kid. They were all about twelve or under, too. That was an odd similarity, and none of us knew what to think about it, but it was the most obvious one.

Second, the Quibbler had almost no information. I supposed that was fair, since they had bigger things to worry about than getting the details on muggle disappearances. But I didn't see why Mr. Potter or Mr. Macmillan wouldn't have given Faith all the details, unless they'd never gotten them. Colette suspected someone in the auror office was burying in the cases so people wouldn't look into them, which begged the question of why. What was so important about a couple dozen muggle children?

"Well, what can we do about that?" Albus asked after Colette had shared this theory, late one evening in the library record room.

"I mean, we could break into the auror office and find the case files," Colette suggested, shrugging casually as if she'd only suggested we walk down to dinner.

Poppy started laughing, but when Albus and I just sighed, she must have realized Colette wasn't joking and quickly grew serious. "That's a little bit mad, Colette."

"It's not mad, just difficult," Colette said, rolling her eyes. "We could do it, though. We've done it before."

"No, we haven't," I said. "We didn't break in anywhere. We were let in by Carrow."

"Oh, do you mean last June?" Poppy asked. We all turned to stare at her, and she shrugged. "I heard the rumors. I don't know what really happened."

"I think the rumors are mostly true," Albus said, tilting his head. "What do they say? We were incredibly stupid and reckless and got Faith Lindsey to print some insane ramblings in the Prophet before throwing ourselves into the battle at the Ministry?"

Poppy chuckled. "That's about right."

"Well, the article was true, not insane, but otherwise I think that's accurate," Colette said. "It's besides the point, though. We could totally break into the auror department. I'm sure Mr. Potter wouldn't even mind when he heard why."

"Seriously?" Poppy's eyes widened. "Didn't you see that Quibbler article? They think the prime minister works for Stillens!"

I glanced at Colette and Albus. Of course we'd all seen the article. We'd also heard it straight from Wren, and suspected it for months now. Instead of saying that, though, because that would bring up too many questions we literally couldn't answer, I said, "Yeah, that's true. I don't think we should do that, Colette."

Colette narrowed her eyes at me. "Come on, really?"

"I'll owl Teddy, okay? Maybe he can snoop around and find the case files."

"Oh, that's a better idea," Albus said, nodding. "Do that."

"Fine." Colette sighed. "When did you become the reasonable one?"

"When Wren's not here, someone has to step up to the job."

"Tell that to twelve or thirteen-year-old Astra," Albus said, rolling his eyes. "Wren is your entire impulse control."

"Yours too, idiot," Colette said, rolling her eyes.

"Better than not having any at all," Albus said, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, I think that's enough for tonight," I said, closing my notebook and standing up. "It's almost curfew, anyway, and we certainly can't let the prefects get caught out past curfew."

We didn't bother putting any magazines away. Madam Pince didn't really care, as long as we left them in the room, and no one else ever came in here. Even if they did, I didn't think what we were doing was necessarily suspicious. Just reading the Quibbler, something we were known for doing every day.

We left the library, walking past Madam Pince's annoyed glare as she stood by the door, key in hand, ready to lock up. Albus and Poppy headed downstairs, towards the Hufflepuff common room, while Colette and I turned towards Gryffindor Tower.

"You kind of went a little too far," I said, glancing sideways at her as we mounted the stairs.

"Did I?" Colette asked dully.

"Mentioning last June... There are things that Poppy can't know about. We literally can't tell her. Like how we knew what was happening, for instance. I know she didn't ask, but she could have."

Colette rolled her eyes. "Sorry, then. Whatever. Maybe Albus shouldn't bring his girlfriend along if we can't talk to her."

"We can. We just have to be careful." I tilted my head. "But you know that. You spent a whole year keeping things secret from all of us."

"Whatever."

I stopped walking. "Are you okay?"

Colette slowed to a halt, as well, and gave me a look that was a cross between You're an idiot and What's your problem? "Yes?"

"Are you sure?" I held up my hands before she could argue. "You just... I don't know. Don't take this the wrong way. You've just seemed more... argumentative than normal lately. Specifically when we're doing this."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I sighed. "I care about you, Colette, that's all. I just want to make sure you're all right."

"Don't get sappy." Colette frowned at me, then quickly looked away. She crossed her arms, staring at the ground for a moment, then shrugged. "I... I don't know. I guess it's just kind of frustrating, is all. My dad... He's one of the ministry record keepers. He probably filed all these cases, or at least could find them. But he would do everything he could to stop me from seeing them, probably, just because it's something I wanted. Even if he thinks children disappearing is bad. I guess. I don't know. I'm just frustrated because if he weren't such an absolute git, this wouldn't be half as hard."

"Oh. I'm sorry..."

"I don't want you to be sorry for me!" Colette glared at me, then shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I don't care." She shook her head. "I'm glad you have Teddy; he'll probably be able to help."

I nodded, but didn't say anything. This was the most she'd opened up about anything since her dad had kicked her out. The most she'd admitted to having feelings. I wasn't about to ruin it, cut her off. Bottling everything up couldn't be healthy, even for someone who claimed it was simply who she was to not care. I knew she cared about things. I could see it in the cracks, the moments every so often when she let her guard down.

Colette was frowning at the far wall as if trying to decipher a foreign language. The wall was just a wall, though. The foreign language was probably emotions.

"I... I mean... I guess I just kind of wish, sometimes..." Colette shrugged. "It's stupid. I just wish I wasn't so alone, you know?"

I pursed my lips and just nodded. "Yeah."

"You've all got your families, you know? Wren's at least got the Potters. And I have my mother, who pushed me down the stairs and shipped me off to boarding school when I was eight and probably had a drug problem now that I think about it, and my father, who's an alcoholic and kicked me out of the flat because of my political opinions." She glanced up, blinking, as if suddenly aware that she'd said all that out loud. "I... I'm fine on my own, don't get me wrong. I like being alone. I don't need anyone."

"But it's still nice?" I guessed.

Colette smiled ruefully. "I wouldn't know."

I nodded, looking down. "I don't know if this helps, but I consider you part of my family. And I don't just mean a friend who's like family. Aunt Andromeda meant it when she said you could stay as long as you liked. Our family's an odd mix as it is, so I don't see why you wouldn't fit right in, if you wanted. I think we've all kind of decided you already fit in, really."

She was staring at me, blinking. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but I was a little worried she was about to yell at me and remind me that she didn't need anyone, she was fine on her own, she didn't care. I tensed up involuntarily, waiting for the onslaught.

It didn't come. Actually, Colette smiled a little. "Thanks," she said, in a small voice.

I grinned, then stepped forward and hugged her. "I love you, you know?" To my surprise, she actually hugged me back (well, patted my back, at least, which was much closer to a hug than her normal "stiffen up like a board" routine). I pretended I didn't notice her reaching up to wipe her eyes.

When I pulled back, I was still smiling. "Forget your dad. You have a Teddy, too, and we're going to owl him together, all right?"

Colette smiled and nodded. "I suppose that sounds okay."

"Perfect." We started off towards the common room again. "Is this proof that you have emotions?"

"Oh, please, you already knew I had emotions."

"Okay, proof you care, then?" I raised an eyebrow. Colette just shook her head at me. But she was smiling, which was good enough.

~~~~

So, maybe I wasn't the only one falling apart. If even Colette was starting to crack, something needed to change. I just didn't know what. I walked down to breakfast lost in my thoughts, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn't hold myself together. Holding everyone else together seemed like too tall of an order. But I'd suddenly gotten a new determination. Screw Stillens. Screw Nico Jasper. Screw all of it, this stupid plan to isolate me and make me fall apart. It wouldn't work. Why? Because I didn't like doing what I was supposed to do.

Maybe I could hold myself together out of sheer spite. I wasn't sure, but if anyone could do it, I had a feeling it was me.

I considered mentioning it at breakfast. Albus was over at the Hufflepuff table with Poppy, but Colette, James, and Wren were with me. Colette would be supportive, I thought. James, too. Wren might be harder to win over, but to be fair, I had the capacity for a lot more spite than she did, so she might just have to admit she didn't understand.

I didn't get a chance to share, actually. The owls arrived with the mail, and as soon as one brought the Quibbler to Colette, we all fell silent.

On the front page was the headline Patagonia Monez Murdered.

"Oh," James said softly. "Oh no."

Colette flipped the page and started reading the article without any of us asking her to. "Patagonia Monez, famous for her work with the American MACUSA in identifying and turning in Stillens' spies, was found dead in her flat yesterday. Aurors who arrived on the scene described it as horrifyingly violent, so much so that pictures will not be published of the body. An intruder allegedly entered her flat through the Floo network and beat her to death with a large vase, which erases the possibility of discovering whose wand killed her.

"It is obvious that the clear agent of Stillens, Pollux Russey, orchestrated this attack on a hero renowned for thwarting Stillens both home and abroad, as sources say he sent he was seen meeting and exchanging money with several shady wizards in Knockturn Alley on the evening before the murder, wizards who were identified near the scene of the crime before and after it happened. However, Parliament has already given their verdict that the DA must be behind this, for God knows what reason.

"In fact, Parliament has already put forth a suspect, Anthony Goldstein, someone who they claim to be a known member of the DA. He is scheduled for a trial tomorrow, as if that is enough time to give a full trial for murder, or even to gather evidence. Goldstein has been denied the right to legal advice, as well as the right to see his family or friends, as Parliament is trying to protect against 'DA influences.' The trial shall be before a tribunal selected by Russey himself, so clearly unbiased. The penalty they are considering? Death."

"What?" James asked, eyes widening. "That's illegal."

"Hold on, don't you think she's getting there?" Colette snapped. She shook her head, then continued reading. "This is despite the fact that execution has been illegal since the Middle Ages throughout the entire wizarding world. As you recall from the history class you didn't pay attention to in Hogwarts, wizards and witches unanimously decided in 1312 that if muggles were going to burn witches at the stake, we would not kill one another. It is the reason places like Azkaban, as inhumane as they are, exist.

"Of course, Parliament has looked at over seven hundred years of history, and decided they are above moral law. Russey has claimed in a statement released to the Daily Prophet that 'threats to public safety should be given no opportunity to put anyone else in danger. Azkaban has been broken out of before, and an organization as widespread and malevolent as the DA has the resources to do it again.' Of course, we at the Quibbler would like to point out that the DA has never broken anyone out of Azkaban. As only the genocidal maniac Voldemort and the equally genocidal maniac Caymus Stillens have ever attempted that, we do not understand why the DA is being placed in the same category. Besides, if the DA wanted to break anyone out of Azkaban, Hestia Carrow would have gone free a long time ago.

"This is a cheap attempt to soften the public to the idea of executions. Russey has painted himself as a saint, protecting the nation from a dangerous threat, when in reality, he is reaching for the power to wipe out anyone who disagrees with him. To send someone to Azkaban with no evidence is bad enough, but to kill them for a crime, when there is no clear evidence that they were even related to that crime? This is a breach of morality that wizard kind should not stand for. Speak out against it. Don't give Russey the power to kill, because one day soon, it may be you he's framing."

The four of us sat there, blinking at each other. That was so much to take in. Patagonia Monez was dead, for one. I remembered hearing about her a few months ago, when she'd been the ambassador the MACUSA and exposed all the spies for Stillens there, and the fact that the American government was entirely controlled by Stillens. She'd come back here to do the same thing, I think. No wonder Russey had offed her.

But now he was blaming someone from the DA? And trying to kill him? This was insane. Sounded like some horrible rumor muggles would spread about America. Not wizards. Not here. We were supposed to be more civilized, and responsible, right? Would people really let him get away with this?

"This isn't good," Wren whispered. Needlessly, of course; that was the understatement of the week, right there. But we all just nodded mutely. It wasn't like there was anything else to say.

"Can we do anything?" James asked.

"What would we do, exactly?" Colette asked.

"I... I don't know, protest? Start a petition?"

"You think Russey's going to listen to a petition from a bunch of teenagers?"

"Well... No..."

"This is insane," Wren said, shaking her head. "Surely people won't let him get away with this."

"If it's gotten this far, I think they already have," Colette said.

I glanced down the Gryffindor table. Mr. Potter was hurrying down the length of it just then. I had a feeling I knew what he was doing. There was a fifth year I didn't know very well, one of Cedric's friends, named Caleb Goldstein. Was that his dad who was being framed? His uncle? I didn't know, but I saw Mr. Potter stopping next to the fifth years, saying something softly to Caleb. And I saw slowly get up, as if in a daze, and follow him out of the Great Hall. He wasn't seeing anything. He already knew.

I didn't get it. How could Stillens ruin so many people's lives? How did he live with himself? I knew he was a psychopath, but this was something else entirely. It was one thing to start to war. It was entirely another to accuse an innocent man of murder and not even allow him to see his family, his son, before killing him. You weren't just killing someone at that point. You were taking them from their family, from their life, and leaving a whole that all those around them would feel forever.

And I was afraid that this was only the beginning.

~~~~

Question of the Day: Which main character frustrates you the most? Why?

Answer: Astra :) My baby is an irrational mess most of the time. I still love her, though. 

I'll be fair, though: If I had to write James, Colette, or Albus's perspective, they'd all drive me up a wall too, to varying degrees. So Astra just frustrates me because I have to see her irrationality, instead of just see the consequences. 

Vote and comment!

~Elli