Of The Stars || a collection ||

Her Broken Crown

Her Broken Crown

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She is gone, but she used to be mine.

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August 1998

Nobody said it would be easy.

Astoria's hands shook as she reached for her cup of tea. The ceramic glass rattled as she held onto them, and she had to hold back a cry of pain as the aftershock—even though it has already been weeks since that dreadful occasion—took over. It made it difficult most things that she could have easily lifted back then. Every stroke of movement caused a pain in her far too unbearable to speak of.

The neuropathic pain that courses through her, according to the Healers, is now permanent. They say that if the Cruciatus curse had been used on her longer on a certain day, she might have ended up like Alice and Frank Longbottom. She would have been ceased to forget all the beautiful things in her life, traumatized for the rest of her living days and unable to recognize loved ones. But her will, for some apparent reason, was stronger than the Longbottoms. The Healers said she was lucky enough to survive.

Sometimes Astoria wished she hadn't.

When the Dark Lord took over the entire British wizarding world, his first order of business was to have all muggle-borns killed. Second the half-bloods that sided with Dumbledore's Army and the renewed Order of the Phoenix. But they spared the pure-bloods that fought to protect Hogwarts. Although spared is such a vast word of mercy that she doubted what happened to her months after had any of the sort. A pure-blood of her standing, who defied the Dark Lord before his win, did not go unpunished. Neither did her sister, Daphne, who had been tortured all because of the side Astoria had chosen in the war.

Astoria was tortured on a daily basis by one Death Eater after another when they finally rounded up the blood traitors. She wasn't the only one. She could also remember the others, screaming in pain by her side as the Death Eaters had their fun and took their turns. Just the sound of their laughter and the pain that coursed through her as the curses came at her made her entire body convulse at the memory of it. It made her drop her cup of tea.

The sound shattered the silence of her home's drawing room.

A shuddering breath escaped her lips as tears began to roll down her cheeks. She shifted in her periwinkle dress, moved to kneel down and pick up the shards of her teacup. But as she stirred, a pain shot up her knees, sending her back down on the sofa with a painful cry.

Someone had entered the room, footsteps approached. Astoria wept and stared at the broken shards on her feet. Her tea spilled a dreadful number on their dainty carpet. The Healers said it would take a while for her to walk as normally again, without someone guiding her. But normal was such a foreign word these days that she doubted it'd be anything of the sort someday.

"Astoria." Cassandra Greengrass's voice said coolly. "Astoria Perenelle Greengrass, look at me."

Astoria sniffed and looked up at her mother dreadfully. She knew why the woman was here. It only took most of her self-control not to lose her sanity right then and there. The sight of her mother made her stomach churn.

"It's time for you to meet Draco." Cassandra went on, looking at her daughter with pity. But it was genuine, an unusual kind. Like she also wished none of this had happened.