A / N

It has been such a long time, you guys, and I'm really sorry about that. But in lieu of George Floyd's death, it simply didn't feel right to post any new updates. I hope that—whether you're part of the protests in the US/Hong Kong, or under lockdown due to Covid, or facing tensions within or beyond your country's borders—you're safe wherever you are. I'm sending all my love to you.

Also, if you have the time, please visit the BlackLivesMatter(.com) site to donate and/or sign petitions. This is something we can all do, no matter where we live. 2020 has been a difficult year and a little support will go a long way.

*

On to a little lighter stuff, casting Harry was tough because Daniel Radcliffe is pretty damn perfect. But when I recasted everyone else in Draconian, I had to pick a new face. Many fancasts have listed this particular actor as Remus or even James. But since I'm not writing a Marauders fanfic (ever) (don't ask me, please, I'm not a fan of the Marauders), why should I let him go to waste? So, presenting—

Andrew Garfield as Harry Potter

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DIAGON ALLEY IS filled with the usual hustle and bustle of activity, despite the looming threat in the horizon. Beneath the cheery atmosphere, she hears it. Hushed whispers about the Darkest wizard of all time, his band of Death-Eaters and the war that is to come.

She tries to shake off the unease, but it's difficult with the wide berth everyone keeps around her. She's a Greengrass, after all, known Pureblood supremacists. Back in the common room of Slytherin, there are talks of Draco Malfoy already being recruited as a Death-Eater. Goyle, Crabbe, Bulstrode, Nott, Parkinson and Zabini will soon follow.

It is a future that she already knows.

She looks at them everyday and tries to ignore what they will eventually become. She tries to pretend she doesn't see the way they relish torturing the other students under the Carrows' commands. She tries not to think about the fact that she hasn't Seen hers or Daphne's future, and the possibility that they, too, will become one of the monsters.

She's so caught up in her thoughts as she leaves Flourish and Blotts that she trips on the doorstep. Someone else pushes into her on their way out, and she stumbles smack into a warm, firm chest.

Two hands catch her by the elbows to steady her. She blinks, dazed, and looks up. "Thanks—" she breathes, before her eyes widen. The person in front of her looks just as surprised as she is. "—Ron?"

"Astoria?" They stare at each other for a moment, before she pulls away from him. Belatedly, he seems to realise that he's still holding onto her, and quickly lowers his hands. "What're you—what're you doing here?"

In the past year, she's learnt to accept that her Vision is not perfect. What she once saw of Ronald Weasley might've been wrong. That suspicion is proved correct when he, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger leave before the start of the term. She hasn't seen him since—no one has seen the Trio at all—so it's quite a shock to find him right in front of her.

"I think that question's better suited for you," she says at last. "What're you doing here?"

He scratches the back of his neck. It seems that his time away from school has taken quite a toll on him. He's rather unshaven, a five o'clock shadow dusts his jawline, and his blue eyes are tired and bloodshot. He's also grown a little more and now stands over a head taller than her. She barely comes up to his chin, even in her best posture. And why does she care about how compatible their heights are again?

"I, um—" A flash of discomfort crosses his face, but it's not directed at her. She suspects it has to do with the subject matter. "—it's a little hard to explain. I don't know if I can, you know," he adds, with a surreptitious glance around.

Then she understands. Harry Potter. Best friend. No Dumbledore. She nods and clutches her newly purchased book to her chest. "That's okay, you don't have to tell me."

He clears his throat and nods too. "Yeah, okay. So...um, how've you been? I didn't know you were into...Legilimency?" His eyebrows shoot up as he stares at the book in her hands.

If he has his secrets, she has hers too. She tightens her grip around the book. "Yes. I've been studying under Professor Snape."

"Snape?" There's a hint of anger in Ron's voice. "He killed the Headmaster. Why would you want to learn anything from him?"

"Better him than the Carrows."

Ron visibly flinches at that. It's clear he knows what the school has become in his absence. His eyes rove her face, and she wonders if he's checking for injuries of any sort. "Are they...I mean, it's probably really bad at Hogwarts, isn't it? Are you...are you doing okay? You're Slytherin and a Greengrass—I don't think they do anything bad to you, do they?"

No, they just make me watch them do bad things to other people. She bites her lip to keep that slow burn of anger from rising. Compartmentalising, Snape had explained. When she separates her emotions and keeps each locked in their own individual box, it's a lot easier to carry on. She can watch Millicent Bulstrode torture Ron's sister with the Cruciatus and not bat an eyelid. She watches and watches until she begins to believe she can do it too. It's only just a matter of time.

"Astoria!" A voice cuts in before she can reply. She turns, relieved, then freezes.

"Dad!"

Ron pales beside her. He falls a step back as her father comes up. "I've been looking everywhere for you," he says to her, before he turns to Ron. She can see the effort Ron makes to stand tall, but he eventually looks down at his feet under her father's scrutiny. "And who is this? A schoolmate of yours? Scruffy, red-hair...looks like a Weasley."

"No, dad, he's not. He's just some Halfblood from school," she adds, for good measure. It works, because her father immediately sniffs and turns away.

"Well, don't be long, Astoria. Your mother and I will be at the café."

"I'll catch up."

Her father disappears into the crowd and Ron lets an audible sigh of relief. "Thank you," he breathes, as he turns back to her.

"You shouldn't be here. Your face is recognisable and the Snatchers are looking for Harry Potter sympathisers. If my dad knew who you were, he'd hand you over to them, no questions asked."

"I know." He hesitates, and adds quietly, "Listen, Astoria, about that night...when you caught me and Lav—"

"Forget it. That's not important anymore." The memory of that night has been burned beneath her eyelids. But she's decided that the sooner she doesn't take it to heart, the better. "Harry and Hermione are waiting for you. You should go back to them."

He hesitates again, but eventually nods. "Bye, Astoria."

She turns to leave, but falters in her steps. This might be the last she'll see of him in a long time. And when she next sees him, they'll probably be on different sides. "Hey, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Destroy it." He frowns in confusion, and she hastens to explain, "Whatever you see later—it's not real. And you need to destroy it."

Without waiting for his reply, she disappears into the crowd without a backward glance.