If I Lose Myself
by EMPG22HoPe
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Chapter Fifteen: Astoria
Early March 1997
Brisk wind blew towards her as she stood atop the Astronomy Tower, two little vials containing silver threads in hand.
Astoria hasn't spoken to her aunt Cress in nearly four weeks. After she had brought back her drunken sister to Hogwarts straight off the Three Broomsticks encounter with their aunt, she immediately went off to send her aunt an owl. By the time her aunt hadn't responded in over a week, she tried to go to Hogsmeade and search through some of the pubs that offered guests to stay in. Cressida Shafiq had been staying at the Three Broomsticks since December, but Madam Rosmerta informed her that she had left right before February started. Nothing could have ever broken Astoria's heart more.
Had her mother found out that aunt Cress came back and had done something to get rid of her again? Astoria didn't doubt her mother. She was far more powerful than anyone in the family. Cassandra Greengrass was even more powerful than her father – who was a well-renowned wizard due to his work at the Ministry as Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and a man who had a penchant for dark magic. If there was any consolation to her aunt missing yet again, it certainly had something to do with her mother.
Even when she had asked for Luna's help again on the matter of finding her aunt, it would most likely take months now – for she couldn't tell if her aunt had decided to get as far away from Great Britain as possible. All she had left was, much to her great dismay, two vials of her aunt's memories.
She has not had any luck on that either, for pensieves were a rare sort of magical item to come by. As it so happens, most library books have told her that the current Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts would have one of their own. However, Astoria hasn't had the time to ask Professor Dumbledore. He'd either be too busy for visitors, according to Professor McGonagall or he'd be away from Hogwarts at long periods of time.
Of course, she expected this. Albus Dumbledore was a very busy man, and it often made her feel guilty that she would even bother him with something so simple as her being horribly sickly.
And yet, the professor had promised to help her in any way that he can. She held on to that a lot more than she could have possibly hoped for. Now that she had something, a miniscule of a clue from her aunt – she was more than determined to press the matter at hand. Astoria didn't trust telling Professor McGonagall the very reason why she needed to see Professor Dumbledore. It was only the headmaster that she would trust with the little memories her aunt had left her before vanishing.
Astoria stressed on this for days on end, unable to take her mind off of it on top of other things.
That included, much to her dismay, Draco Malfoy.
It had only been about two weeks since the great incident of Theo and Blaise's fight. It terrified Daphne to the core and was rendered mute for days. Astoria couldn't blame her. Had it been Draco and some other guy that Astoria was forcefully engaged to, she'd have been speechless for months.
Normally she didn't try to get herself involved in her sister's "love life", but she thought this time an exception. Blaise was still her friend, despite the mess that's been tangled up at the Gala. It was hard to side with her sister at times when Blaise had his own fair points.
After all, Astoria felt much more for Blaise than Daphne. She knew a thing or two about people not telling her the truth. This, however, made her mind drift off to Draco.
As if by force, she felt her heart sink. If it was even possible for it to physically break within her, it most certainly did right now.
All of it felt as if she'd been broken up with; not that any of it made sense. She and Draco were never together in the first place, and yet... when she'd said her goodbye, why did it feel like the whole world just collapsed right before her eyes?
Astoria felt hallow as she tried to push these thoughts as far back as possible.
There are more important things. Her father would advise. You should always put yourself first. That's what a true Slytherin does.
When had she ever put herself first? Astoria had always been selfless, putting other people's needs above her own. It was the one trait Slytherins looked down on, but she prided herself in it. It mattered not if she didn't have the light as long as the others had it within them because of her.
Her thoughts, though as deep as they come, were then interrupted by the sound of a very familiar voice.
"I'd thought I'd find you here, Miss Greengrass." Albus Dumbledore said calmly.
Astoria turned around from where she stood against the railing of the Astronomy Tower. It was nearly nightfall, and everyone would be at the Great Hall by now eating dinner. She knew she should be there as well, but she didn't feel hungry at all. In fact, she was so consumed with her own thoughts that she'd barely given herself any self-care. It was only a matter of time before she got sick again, as she had been remarkably thrice already in February.
"Professor!" She said far too eagerly as she held onto the two vials in her hand tightly. "I've been—"
"—looking for me." The professor continued for her as he nodded. "Professor McGonagall has told me. I apologize for my absence. It's been a very... not so pleasant start of the New Year."
Astoria bit her bottom lip guiltily. "It's okay, professor! I was just... well, you told me that when I finally have something that I should go to you immediately. And—and I have something. I was able to talk to my aunt at my mum's side and... she knows something."
"Is that so?" Professor Dumbledore asked curiously.
She nodded before opening her hand to reveal the two vials. "I thought that maybe she knew something about my odd illness. And this was what she gave me before she's disappeared. I haven't spoken to her in weeks. It's like she's just... vanished, which is certainly nothing new but... you see, it's all I have."
"Aah," Dumbledore nodded once his eyes drifted towards the vials on her hand. "I see she's left you memories. They're commonly the most useful thing at this point in our search. Very well, Astoria. Would you care to join me in my office? I believe we can view your aunt's memories in my pensieve together. Perhaps we'll be able to find some truth, if not the very full of it."
Astoria didn't need to be told twice. She followed the professor down the Astronomy Tower, feeling a great surge of hope engulf her as they went stairs upon stairs downwards. Nobody really knew where the office of the Headmaster was, but she had a great feeling she's at least seen the entrance before.
And sure enough, they managed to stop at the same place where Astoria last spoke to Professor Dumbledore. They were standing before a statue of a gargoyle.
"Treacle tart." Professor Dumbledore announced.
The gargoyle, to Astoria's surprise, came to life. It stepped aside as the wall behind it split in two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase which was moving swiftly upwards, like those muggle-made escalators. As she and Professor Dumbledore stepped onto it, the wall behind them came to a close. They rose upwards in circles, higher to the top, until at last, her head still spinning from the brief ride, she could see a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffon. The professor pushed the door open and together, they entered the space.
It was a large circular room, with trinkets, bookshelves and drawers of all kinds. The walls were covered with portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses, some of them brightly alive as they spoke to welcome the professor back. At the end of the room was a claw-footed desk and distinctly enough, on top of them, was a bowl of shimmering yellow things. Astoria assumed it was gold but as they drew further towards it, she realized that it was a bowl of lemon drops.
"Do you have the slightest idea why your aunt simply decided to leave these memories to you instead of telling you herself?" Dumbledore asked as he began to rummage through the glass shelf behind his desk, where she could see bottles upon bottles of potions and small vials quite similar to that of which her aunt had given her.
Astoria shook her head even though the professor couldn't see her. "I haven't the faintest of clue. That seems to be a well-written hobby of mine in the family for these past few months, actually... not knowing much of anything."
Professor Dumbledore hummed softly before turning around with a large, metal basin in hand. Runes and strange symbols seemed to be carved onto the sides, and when the professor laid the basin on his desk – Astoria saw that it was filled with a silver substance made of gas that flowed fluidly like liquid.
"Can you tell me what this is, Miss Greengrass?" The professor inquired patiently.
"It's a pensieve, sir." Astoria answered triumphantly, her heart thumping greatly against her chest in both excitement and nervousness. "One can view threads of memories of people through it by third person. Like one would be there at the very scene itself though unseen."
"Exactly." Professor Dumbledore smiled softly. "Perhaps, you should do the honors, Astoria. We can start with the longest one of the two, if there is one."
Astoria shuffled the two vials in her hand. She wasn't exactly sure which of the two was the longest for she never truly marked it right after. At that point in time upon receiving it, she was too stunned to even do anything. Banking on her gut, she took the silvery vial that gleamed more importantly – assuming that would be the longest. She carefully handed it over to the Professor.
Dumbledore popped the cork open and poured the silvery thread into the basin. Astoria was surprised to find that it seemed to be, indeed, the longest. Once all of the thread had gone onto the basin before them, the professor beckoned her to peer closer.
And just as she leaned in to look, she felt a tug at the nape of her neck as she was transported toward a one-too-familiar scene.
Astoria stood beside the professor in Greengrass Manor. Unlike their current manor, this one looked livelier in color – curtains were drawn open and the portraits that hung spoke happily among themselves. It was a perfectly wonderful morning at that time, and sweet classical music faired throughout the manor. There were silver and white droppings everywhere, and Astoria had a feeling that they were at an event.
Standing before her and Dumbledore was her aunt Cressida; remarkably young – touching into her mid-20's. Cress was clad in a silvery gown that hugged her structure well, her dark as night hair tied up in an elegant bun where embedded upon her locks were flashing jewels and diamonds. She looked stunning.
But she also looked wistfully alone. Her aunt drank a glass of mead wordlessly, walking in circles in the foyer of the manor. From the left side where the ballroom was came laughs and loud conversation. The music bled from that room, along with the sound of bottles popping open and people cheering and chanting drunkenly.
Astoria curiously leapt towards the direction of the ballroom. From the slightly ajar door, she saw that there was a wedding reception inside. Familiar pure-blood families were seated on lilac tables adjacently towards the front of the room where she saw the bride and groom dancing. To her utter surprise, she saw that it was her parents. Her father, Cepheus, was dressed in the finest of emerald robes whilst her mother, Cassandra, wore the puffiest and shiniest cream wedding gown she's ever seen. They were merrily dancing at the front, along with a few pairs of pure-bloods on the dance floor.
"My parents' wedding day?" Astoria questioned as she turned to Professor Dumbledore and her aunt, who was still walking around in circles, mead in hand. "I don't understand, Professor."
Dumbledore nodded towards the door just as the music stopped playing and a loud round of applause occurred. Before Astoria could do anything, she heard the door beside her open a little wider where an elder couple strolled out. It felt quite weird because the two walked straight through her – like she was a ghost. She felt sick to her stomach. Only when she finally recognized the pair did she snap back to her reverie.
The elder couple that was now approaching her aunt looked awfully like the photographs she's seen of her grandparents. It was her father's parents, Grandfather Hyperion and Grandmother Cassiopeia. They were well-clad in the most elegant robes – and at one point, she saw the familiar green of her Grandfather's eyes – the Greengrass eyes – and her Grandmother's features that reflected greatly on her father.
For a moment, Astoria felt tears brim her eyes. She's never met Gran Hyperion and Cassiopeia because she was barely even born before they've passed away from dragon pox. She resisted the urge to run over and hug them, knowing full well that this was mere memory and simply abstract.
"Cressida, my dear!" Cassiopeia greeted merrily as she pulled Cress into a tight hug. "You feeling well?"
"Quite alright, Mrs. Greengrass." Cress answered with a tight smile.
"A shame, quite a shame, really." Hyperion shook his head mournfully. "The number of times I've told Cepheus you'd make a better bride than your own little sister."
Astoria's eyes widened considerably at this as she stepped next to Dumbledore.
Cressida snorted as she took a sip from her mead. "Well, we can't be blamed. While I appreciate that you've have paired me off with your eldest son, Cepheus, I'm afraid he simply... well, he simply didn't love me as much as he did Cassandra. Little Cassandra... she always did quite well, often better than me. I suppose I was never enough."
"Oh, rubbish!" Cassiopeia retorted impatiently. "You're twice the witch Cassandra is, dear. Your sister's too... how do I put this? Too arrogant, too impulsive – she never quite thinks before she acts. It's a gruesome pairing, considering how Cepheus is just as arrogant and impulsive. A match so terribly made in hell that I'm sure could have been avoided if it hadn't—"
"Now, now, Cassie, my love." Hyperion totted. "We cannot blame dear Cressida here. I believe she's done quite her best to woo Cepheus. They were always quite suitable for each other."
"I don't blame Cressida. Of course not, dear." Cassiopeia gave Cress a bright smile. "I simply blame our son. The recklessness, honestly. He simply didn't want to be controlled. He wanted adventure beyond the world of common pure-blood sense. He's strayed far, oh, much far than Atlas – bless that boy's soul. I am completely livid, is all. How can I ever trust Cepheus again?"
"We can't. And since Atlas has far passed, I'm sure it is simply... time to entrust our history towards someone worth the family's name." Hyperion said gravely before turning to Cress. "The only person we could possibly trust, with any of our grandchildren's future, is Cressida."
Cress nearly choked on her drink before putting her glass down on a nearside end table.
"Mr. Greengrass?" Cress asked weakly.
Hyperion nodded at Cassiopeia, who, from within her small silvery purse, produced a vial much similar to the one that Astoria received from her aunt Cress. Only this vial seemed older, a little more pronounced. It seemed to be like one of the olden vials, from hundreds of years ago. Within the vial, a silvery thread danced dangerously like a little creature, one that seems to be dying to get out. Cassiopeia handed the vial to Cress, who still looked remarkably speechless, staring at the vial curiously.
"What is it?" Cress asked as she shook the vial warily.
"Don't shake it too much, dear!" Cassiopeia hissed, causing Cress to stop. "That is a very important vial, Cressida. And you must listen carefully. This will concern sweet little Daphne and what I assume to be Cassandra's next child – a girl, a Seer has told us. And the Seer, goodness the terrible things she's seen! But I've trusted Seers for the most of my life, and they never went quite wrong."
Cress nodded, her eyes shifting nervously between the couple, and urged them to go on.
"This vial contains a very important memory that one of our great ancestors own." Hyperion began mournfully. "This memory has been passed down from one Greengrass generation to another. We haven't the faintest clue what it truly contains, for it has never been opened before for it can only be opened under one very important circumstance."
Cassiopeia went on. "The last instruction this vial had before the Greengrass ancestor passed away was that it cannot be opened by anyone other than the Greengrass descendant victimized by a great illness."
"A great illness?" Cress asked nervously. "What kind of illness? Is it a common one, like dragon pox or fey fever?"
Hyperion shook his head, his expression hardening. "It is much worse than any kind of illness, child."
Cress put a hand to her mouth to hide her gasp, her eyes widening fearfully as she looked at the vial in her hand. "What could possibly be worse than any known illness to man?"
"It is unknown. But it is dark, dark magic, I presume. Very dark magic that not even the Dark Lord could have possibly conjured. Old, dark magic. Terrifying. Just absolutely terrifying." Cassiopeia said in a small voice as tears began to brim her brown eyes. "Ooh, when Hyperion told me the story of it all. It's vile. It's the most terrible thing. And the Seer... the Seer who spoke of Cassandra's second child!"
"Do you mean to say that..." Cress's voice trembled, her eyes as wide as saucers now. "This vial's never been opened? Whatever illness hardly resurfaced within the previous Greengrasses, and you're telling me now that... Cassandra's second child... the girl you say the Seer has mentioned... could it be?"
A cold, harsh shiver ran down Astoria's spine as she too felt hot tears blurring her entire vision.
"It's what's been told!" Cassiopeia blew her nose on a hanky as Hyperion patted her back.
"The Greengrasses have trusted Seers for generations, for we've been descended greatly from the Greeks who trust their Seers regarding the future of our family." Hyperion said darkly. "If what the Seer we've spoken to said is true..."
"This illness..." Cress said in a small voice, her features askew in absolute terror. "Is it most deadly?"
Cassiopeia began to sob loudly onto her husband's shoulder, and Hyperion pulled her close.
"Indeed." Hyperion's voice cracked considerably, and Cassiopeia cried so deafeningly; Astoria was surprised nobody from the ballroom heard them. "Cressida, it is very important that you keep this memory under lock and key. After all, it is most commonly told that a female Greengrass is dangerous among the family."
"Why, specifically, a female Greengrass?" Cress asked; her face now as white as ash. "You now have a female Greengrass! Sweet Daphne! And then you say Cassandra is to give birth to another girl!"
"We only know what has been passed to us for generations. If we could open the memory ourselves and find out the truth, we would." Hyperion said, his eyes drifting towards the vial. "We cannot open it, as much as we wish to. It's guarded by an ancient spell that can only be used by the Greengrass ailed by the illness. It is most imperative that Cassandra's second child must have this memory should a great illness come upon her. The Seer... the things she's seen."
"Oh, my poor granddaughter!" Cassiopeia wailed, and Astoria felt her entire body tremble as she, too, was heaving great tears of her own. "Hardly even born and already damned by an ancestral curse! The horror! The cruelty of it all. Why? Oh, sweet Merlin, why?"
The grave conversation was cut short by the sound of two doors opening, and from the left – Astoria could see her parents walking out hurriedly; their eyes full of fear as they watched Hyperion and Cassiopeia sob before Cress who was bawling just as well. Cress hid the vial in her purse hastily, trying her very best to recover.
Already, Astoria could see a small bump on her mother, Cassandra's, abdomen. That's me, Astoria thought to herself horridly. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle her cries, her entire body greatly weakening at what she had just seen and heard.
But before she could hear the argument that had started between her parents and grandparents, Astoria's vision blurred and her mind now completely muddled as the voices began to fade away.
Then, in an instant, she collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving floor before her line of vision was engulfed by darkness.
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A/N: A bit of a short chapter, but I simply wanted to put it out there that Astoria's curse will be explored in this fanfic! I feel like her curse makes her the person she is (the good kind), and I would not have wanted it any other way. Her blood malediction has its reasons and interesting history. What do you think might have caused the blood curse in the Greengrass line? And why, specifically, a female Greengrass? I'd love to hear your thoughts so feel free to leave a comment and/or leave a vote on this story!
Happiest of New Years to everyone! I shall see you all again in a week.
MDSummers