Astoria Greengrass (cursebroken_) wrote in snitchers, @ 2017-08-16 19:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | char: astoria greengrass |
Who: Astoria Greengrass
What: Dementor dreams
Where: Greengrass manor
When: Wednesday night
Rating: PG-13ish?
It was still a bizarre concept to her, being able to help the rebels with something as amazingly vital as medical supplies. She'd be lying if she said she didn't get a bit of a rush out of it, but honestly, it also felt right. She was helping people that she felt genuinely deserved it, people who had been persecuted for all the wrong reasons, people like Mia who was pregnant, probably showing by now.
She grinned as she turned the corner, her inconspicuous shopping bag full of supplies tucked under her arm. Things were going perfectly. She would make Mia's pregnancy run smoothly, the injured rebels would get the care they needed- and no one would be the wiser.
As she headed for the bench where she'd agreed to drop the bag, however, something suddenly felt... off. Where had the clouds come from all of a sudden? Her smile quickly faded as she peered up at the sky, sun fading behind dark clouds. The wind picked up, blowing her hair across her face. She reached up to pull it aside, and was surprised to see Mia sitting there, extending her hands out for the bag expectantly. "Mia?" she asked, trying to keep the shock out of her voice as she hurried forward. "Mia, what are you doing here? It's too dangerous!" But as she stepped closer, Mia's face looked different. She was pale- was she not feeling well? And her eyes...
Her cheeks were hollowed, her eyes faded and white, skin dusky gray. "M-Mia. What's-" As she stood, her limbs were gaunt, skeleton-like. Her hands were still out, reaching for the bag. Astoria stumbled backward, catching herself but quickly stumbling again and falling backward on her butt, the potions in her bag spilling across the ground. "Mia, stop!" But Mia's pace had advanced, and her bony hands reached not for the potions but for her neck, skeletal hands clamping down with such force that Astoria couldn't breathe.
"M-" But the sounds wouldn't come out, even as she reached up to claw at her grip, legs flailing beneath her. She could feel her eyes bulging as she frantically searched for help from someone- anyone-
And for the first time, she noticed a cloaked man standing behind her, wand raised, and the horror of what was happening suddenly intensified as the word registered in her mind- inferius. Oh Mia. Mia, what did they do?
Mia- or what was left of her- dragged Tori along, feet kicking in the dirt until she suddenly realized she was in a large room- the Wizengamot? How had they-? But before she could process it, Mia's hands retracted. She fell forward, gasping for air, sucking it in hungrily as her arms trembled at her sides. When her head finally lifted, she realized she was looking up at dozens of hooded figures, all staring down at her menacingly. Her throat still ached, her voice still wouldn't come, even as she tried to ask what was going on. She tried to step forward, only to realize that she was chained to the ground. When had that happened? Desperate eyes flitted pleadingly across the figures. Why couldn't she see their faces? Any of their faces? Just one?
"Astoria Greengrass." The voice went through her like ice, sucking what little breath she had left out of her in one fell swoop. Goosebumps sprang up on her arms, hair standing on end. "You stand accused of treason. What do you have to say in your defense?"
But she couldn't speak. Her throat ached, burned as she tried, first to talk, then to scream, but nothing, silence. Not a sound. She tried to reach for her neck, but fell forward as the chains refused, hardly managing to brace herself. Chained to the ground like an animal. Is this what happened to the rebels when they refused to cooperate?
"Very well. All those who find the accused guilty?"
A synchronized set of cloaked hands rose in unison.
"Astoria Greengrass, you have been found guilty of treason, the punishment for which is death. Have you any last words?"
Death?
"So be it."
Her ears were ringing with the sudden silence in the room, and she felt the sudden urge to vomit. Even now, now in her last moments, she couldn't speak, couldn't say a damned thing in her own defense. Tears brimmed in her eyes as her fingernails dug into her palms, and she knew she would draw blood.
And suddenly, a long figure stood from their seat. Astoria gasped as she pulled back her hood with perfectly manicured nails, a familiar blonde head of hair coming into view. Daphne.
Daphne had voted against her. Daphne had voted for death.
But that pain wasn't enough as she moved with a frightening grace down the stairs, practically floating as she came to stand before her. She leaned forward, and for a blissful moment, she thought she might have come to hug her goodbye, but no. Daphne's lips came to rest beside her ear, and she could feel the grin that she knew was suddenly spreading across her sister's face. Her silky voice was quiet, gentle and yet- "Traitor."
What?
Then, in the softest, sweetest voice, Astoria thought she surely must have heard it wrong. "Crucio."
The scream that had build up for so long suddenly broke free, cascading forward as a broken voice that Astoria didn't recognize as her own.
And it didn't stop.