A / N
Quick recap for those who've not read Draconian:
After the chapter titled 1998, Harry Potter lost the war. He failed to defeat Voldemort, and barely made it out alive. During the Order's escape, Hermione was captured by Death-Eaters. Draco spends the next three years looking for her after Andromeda Tonks tells him about it. He recruits Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini to help him.
Meanwhile, in Astoria...you'll see.
x Noelle
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SHE WATCHES SEVERAL hooded figures enter the establishment. Death-Eaters. There's no doubt about it. The brazen way they carry themselves; the clink of galleons in their pockets. It won't be long before the bell tinkles, and she has to go in again.
She drags in a deep breath and closes her eyes. In her mind, she compartmentalises, as Snape had always told her to do. Precious memories go into their respective boxes; memories of her current routine go to the front. When she opens her eyes, her mind is clear once more.
She takes a step forward, but registers the approaching footsteps too late. She collides right into someone. Her wand flies into her hand without a second thought, and she raises it to the person's neck. It's a war, after all. But as she does, a sharp point digs into her own neck and she finds herself held at wand-point too.
Wide blue eyes blink down at her. "Astoria?"
She stills. Shite. She's forgotten to alter her appearance. But the voice is familiar, although the person's face is hidden by shadows. He lowers his wand and pushes back the hood of his jacket. In the past year that hasn't seen him, he's grown up. Gone is every trace of the boy he'd once been. His jaw now lined with hard angles; his once lanky body defined with muscles. A scar or two mars his cheek, along with a dark bruise on the side of his head.
He's listened to her. He's fighting this war.
"Ron?" She swallows her surprise, along with the ridiculous urge to hug him. Seeing him, or anyone else from Hogwarts alive, is a huge relief at a time like this. She lowers her wand. "What're you doing here?"
"I'm on a mission," he says, his voice hushed. "What're you doing here?"
"I work here."
"You work here?" He seems to suddenly notice her apparel. The low neckline of her bodice, the tight cinch of her waist and her form-fitting dress made of expensive silk. Beneath his scrutiny, she feels stripped bare, but she's immensely glad that his gaze doesn't linger. He looks back up at her and his eyes narrow. "This is the bloody Arcanum. Do you even know what kind of place this is?"
"If I didn't, I wouldn't be working here."
"You—"
"Jade!" The voice cuts through their conversation. Astoria immediately steps away from Ron, just as an old witch marches up to them. "What're you still doing here, girl?" The Madame grabs her arm and hisses, "He's already in there. You know these Death-Eaters wait for no one!"
"I'm sorry, Madame, I'll go right away."
"No, you won't!" Ron's face contorts in anger; a hot flush rising to his cheeks. He pulls her back to him, and suddenly, she finds her back pressed against his chest. "She won't go with you."
The Madame narrows her eyes at him. "Young man, I have a business to run here—"
"How much is he paying?" Ron demands. "I'll double it. Triple it!" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small brown bag. "This is all the money I have. If it's not enough to get her out, I'll get more—"
"No." Astoria's voice is quiet, but firm enough to cut him off. She turns to the old witch with an apologetic look. "I am so sorry, Madame, will you please tell Dolohov to wait? I need to have a word with my friend."
The Madame huffs but leaves all the same. The moment the witch is out of sight, Ron explodes. "Dolohov? Are you fucking kidding me?" he snaps. "He's one of the most dangerous Death-Eaters, Astoria—or should I say, Jade? How did you get yourself in this mess?"
"Ron—"
"You know what? That's not important right now. I can bring you somewhere safe. Get your things, I'll wait for you out here. Or if you'd rather I go in with you—"
"Ron." She levels him a steady look. "I have to get back to work. And you need to leave."
"I'm not going anywhere—"
"Don't make me force you to leave." She stares at him for a moment—eyes narrowed, flushed cheeks, one hand still holding tightly onto her. The full force of his anger—all for her. She lowers her gaze and swallows hard. "Goodbye, Ron."
Without waiting for his reply, she wrenches her arm away and heads back to the Arcanum. Meeting Ron has left her so shaken up that she barely remembers to alter her appearance in time. Glancing into a mirror on the way, she makes sure that she has it perfected: short blonde bob, green eyes, blood red lips. She passes the Madame, greets Dolohov and takes him up to a room. She is halfway through with him when the door bursts open with an exploding spell.
She rises to her feet, eyes wide. "Ron!"
He looks like an avenging angel. Flaming red hair, flashing blue eyes and a whirl of righteous fury. His wand turns to Dolohov on the bed, but his gaze is fixed on her. In spite of her disguise, he seems to see right through her.
The Madame runs in after him. "You owe me for that door, young man! I told you that she's fine!"
Ron frowns at the unconscious Dolohov, then turns back to her. "Astoria? What're you—what is this?"
She lets out a sigh and nods at the old witch. "It's okay, Madame."
The Madame huffs again, but turns to leave, muttering a 'Reparo' under her breath to fix the door. Once the door is shut, Astoria puts locking and silencing charms on the room. She drops the charm that conceals her appearance, then whirls around to face him.
"How could you come in here? Do you know how dangerous this is right now? You've put my entire mission in jeopardy!"
"Wait, you're on a mission too?"
She bites her lip, then picks up her wand and points it at Dolohov. He's already fast asleep, but an extra precaution can't hurt. "Stupefy," she mumbles under her breath, then gestures for Ron to take a seat by the dresser.
He does, but his wand remains pointed at Dolohov, as though expecting the Death-Eater to wake up at any moment.
"Yes, Ron," she tells him quietly. "This is my mission. It's been my only mission for the past year. When I take on clients at the Arcanum, they pay me—not only with their money, but with their secrets. Death-Eaters, Snatchers... Even Fenrir Greyback came in once. I learnt everything about his pack that afternoon."
Ron frowns. "Why do you need secrets? What could you—oh." His blue eyes widen. "You're a spy."
"I work for Andromeda. She needs information to pass on to the Order and the Rebellion. Some of which I'm sure you already know."
He nods slowly, then casts a glance at Dolohov. His lips flatten into a grim line. "Still, there had to be a better way than this."
"This is the best way. Anyway," she adds, a tiny smile playing on her face, "who do you think I am? Do you think I just lie there, let them have their wicked way with me and sweet talk them into giving me their secrets? Look at him."
She gives a dismissive wave towards Dolohov. As if on cue, the Death-Eater lets out a loud snore.
"Knockout draught and a series of very complicated memory work," she explains. "He'll wake up believing that he's been thoroughly shagged, when in reality he's spent two hours sleeping in his own drool. He won't even remember me or know who I am. And everything he knows will be mine," she adds, with a satisfied smile. But she falters when she notices Ron staring intently at her. "What?"
He breaks eye contact and shakes his head. "Nothing, I just—I forgot what a powerful witch you are."
Her smile widens. "It'll serve you well if you keep that in mind."
He lets out a laugh. It's a rough, almost scratchy sound, as though he hasn't laughed for a long time. Maybe he hasn't. He sobers up and turns to Dolohov again. "He's my mission, by the way. I've been tracking him for ages. The number of people he's killed..." Ron's face darkens. It's a look she hasn't seen on him before; a look she never knew he was capable of having. But perhaps the war has hardened him this way. "If we catch and imprison him, we won't have to deal with him again."
She mulls over Ron's words. This is an unprecedented situation. She's only ever extracted information from her clients. Never before has she had the opportunity to turn them in. "You can take him in," she says at last. "Just let me read his mind first."
Ron nods and waits patiently for her to extract Dolohov's memories. Then she leans over, points her wand to the Death-Eater's head and whispers, "Obliviate." He won't remember anything about this afternoon.
She glances over her shoulder at Ron. He's been watching her—his elbows propped on his knees, chin rested on his knuckles and his gaze fixed steadily on her. His lips quirk in a tiny smirk and she nods back.
For a moment, it feels like they're co-conspirators.
Then the moment fades. Ron picks up his wand and points it at Dolohov. "Imperio."
She almost jumps at his harsh whisper. It's an incredibly Dark spell for someone who fights for the Light. He wills Dolohov to stand and follow them out of the room. Once she's altered her appearance again, she leads them out of the Arcanum. But with other people in the vicinity, she doesn't dare say much to him.
Ron seems to know the danger they're in, too, because he simply looks back at her. She doesn't mean to read his mind, but his gaze is so open and frank that the words jump out at her.
Stay safe, Astoria.
Her lips lift in the barest hint of a smile and she nods. Ron's eyes widen a fraction, before he Apparates away with Dolohov. A rustle to her side makes her turn, only to find The Madame next to her.
"Must be a good one," the old witch remarks, "to pay to get you out of this business."
She stares at the spot that Ron once stood in. "Yes, he is."