Malfoy's Moon

letters and tears

Her owl has been suffering the past two weeks.

Her honeyed eyes have worn out, her beige-colored feathers drooping with exhaustion, and her hoots more feeble than usual. Her constant fatigue comes from the burden of carrying letters, letters coming in numbers that Astra has never gotten before. In her previous years at Hogwarts, she might've gotten a couple letters a month from her parents, but now, constant letters are dropping into her plate at breakfast.

All from one person.

Miss. Hawkings,

Your parents have passed on the note that you have just arrived at Hogwarts. I can not disclose anything explicit in case this letter gets intercepted. However, I would like you to make note of a few things.

Draco Malfoy is not someone to play around with.

You need to be attentive and careful. He may just be seventeen, but you must remember his father, Lucius. The boy himself might not be much of a danger, but you will be sure Lucius has passed on information. And it may even be that the Dark Lord has taught him certain skills himself. Any progress, any suspicious activity, you send to me directly.

- Barty Crouch

Miss. Hawkings,

It has been a week since school has started. It is imperative you send me an update, anything about the Malfoy boy.

Do not speak to anyone other than myself about this, not even through letter.

- Barty Crouch

Miss. Hawkings,

My intention is not to put any further pressure on you. But, I would like to stress how crucial this task is. Hogwarts is in danger and it is through Draco Malfoy that the boundaries have been threatened. As you know, Voldemort is active and you will be sure his death eaters are too. Draco Malfoy is the direct link Voldemort has to Hogwarts. The wizarding world is at stake.

Send an update.

- Barty Crouch

And it's not just these. There have been more, more desperate letters for updates.

She has ignored them all.

The truth is, she has not seen Draco Malfoy recently. Rather, she has been steering clear from the tall, blonde boy. She's seen him at breakfast, flitting through the hallways to class, and occasionally in the common room, studying. But, she's never been alone with him and even in the little seconds she sees him, she keeps her eyes averted from his gaze. Perhaps she's unwilling to look into those daunting, smoky eyes, worried of the haunt that captured her eyes that day at the ball.

In those two weeks that followed the ball, Astra's fallen into a state that reflects the one of her owl. Lack of sleep, constant exhaustion throughout the days, and her loss of appetite suddenly clenches her insides uncomfortably.

The Great Hall enchanted ceiling is one of a cold, snowy day, with an icy chill that replicates the frosty outside world.

The walls only do so little to keep out the foreboding, biting wind.

Breakfast one particularly wintry morning arrives in the form of Astra's tawny owl coming once more and collapsing on the Slytherin table, knocking over several jugs of pumpkin juice.

"Oi, control your owl, will you?" Theo says irritably as he shifts closer to Malfoy to avoid the spilled juice.

"Sorry," Astra mutters, quickly untying the heavy letter from her owl's leg.