The Lady of (New) Avalon

One of the things I really like about the House of Black is the way they're always there for each other, no matter how much they fucking hate each other. I'm pretty sure I've never seen Aster and Cissy in the same room for more than five minutes without sniping at each other, except when they're dealing with an outside threat, like talking to Dumbledore.

Yes, Aster, it's still adorable that you two thought I needed help talking to him. I might not have known all the relevant laws at the time, but I've never not been able to play authority figures, and Dumbledore in particular was easy to manipulate because he was so very inclined to believe his own interpretation of events — witness his insistence that there were two Thoms. And ninety per cent of a convincing lie is telling someone what they already believe and want to hear. Such as that I'm a perfectly harmless little muggle-raised witch whose greatest crimes were committed entirely in ignorance, and might still be persuaded that her wise old professor has the right of it, and perhaps more caution is merited, et cetera, et cetera.

Personally, I'm not a fan of Dorea Potter, but even she recognises that she owes at least that much to her natal house. After Aster ran away because feelings are scary and I don't want to want the thing I really, really want, Dumbledore called Lady Potter to come deal with her goddaughter being insane, little realising, apparently, that she would have as little idea what to do about that as any of the rest of us. (Yes, I'll admit, I was as much at a loss as to what to do about you running off as anyone else. I can't figure out how to fix people when they fucking run away from me, you know!) And I do think that it's one of the more redeeming things she's ever done that, when Narcissa decided to call Bella in, Dorea actually defended Bella to Dumbledore (despite her obvious hatred for her), arguing that whatever else she might be, she did care about the children who were her responsibility, and would know how to act in your best interests where they couldn't.

For that matter, it's probably one of Dumbledore's more redeeming moments that he actually swallowed his pride (and his fear of her) and let her come into the school. A decision I'm sure he quickly regretted, given that she was far more concerned with punishing James Potter for being a fucking moron than anything else. Though the fact that he was attempting to dissuade me from practising ritual magic was a close second. She was, perhaps unsurprisingly, far less concerned with finding you and dealing with the consequences of anything you might do while trying to run away from your feelings than establishing a plan to keep that fucking moron away from you for the next several months, at least, lest you completely lose your shite with him and do something that Dorea, at least, would find...regrettable.

Of course, she did agree that you had to be tracked down and brought back to the Castle eventually. She delegated the task of talking you down and convincing you to stop being a dog to me because, in her words, no, you're kidding, right, this is perfect. You'll be much better for her than Potter. Apparently she'd been thinking I'd be a good Lady for you to follow since before she even knew I was Thom's daughter — like, since you told her I completely fucked up your relationship with Potter intentionally. So, kudos to Bella for calling that one...

Though, honestly, I think our relationship has always been a little more equal than the straightforward Lord/Vassal thing Thom and Bella have, if only because you did have a point about me not knowing all the shite I really needed to know to be a fucking noble, let alone a bloody Black. I was following your lead almost as much as you were following mine for a long time, even after New Avalon was established. If we have to compare ourselves to them, I'd actually say we're more like Bella and Mira. And I'm Bella. I mean, in hindsight, you didn't really need someone to follow, in terms of ambitions and morality, so much as you just needed someone emotionally stable to lean on to help balance you out.

Anyway, I'm wandering. That's basically what you missed between you running away and me coming to find you, in case you were wondering.

—Asphodel

Evans found her more quickly than she expected.

Aster had had a head start because obviously Evans had still had to deal with Dumbledore and that whole no, of course I'm not actually a necromancer, that was just Aster misinterpreting the effects of a ritual, and what do you mean Potter said de Mort said something about soul resonance, I'm sure he hasn't the foggiest idea what he's on about thing, and she hadn't gone to hide under her bed again — this wasn't a curl up in a ball and die sort of miserable, it was more of a run and keep running until you literally can't anymore sort of miserable. She'd taken off into the forest in Padfoot's form, racing through trees and underbrush for miles — she didn't really know how far, but she knew she'd crossed the ward line (it tingled), and she thought she'd kept going almost twice as long after as before (but again, time was weird as a dog) — until she'd collapsed at the mouth of a little cave halfway up the nearest mountain.

It definitely should've taken Evans longer to find her, but she fucking cheated, got Bella to shadow-walk straight to her instead of using normal tracking charms like a normal bloody person.

"She's in there," Bella said, presumably gesturing toward the cave.

Evans sighed. "Thanks. Are you going to help me talk her out?"

"Hmm, no." Bella sounded a bit amused. "I need to go back and have a chat with dear Cousin Jamie about keeping our word — and staying the fuck away from Aster from now until forever."

That was... Well, she wanted to say it wasn't good, because no child of the House would want to "have a chat" with Bella about breaking their word to another member of the House, and Dorea was a Black which meant her son was kind of a Black, if Bella wanted to consider him one, in the sense that he should definitely have known better, so he'd be lucky to get out of it without being set on fire, or at the very least being put under that feels-like-being-set-on-fire curse Cygnus liked so much.

But on the other hand, she couldn't much bring herself to care what happened to James fucking Potter at the moment, or possibly ever again. She tucked her nose more firmly into her stomach, very pointedly not turning back into a human to tell Bella not to hurt that...that complete fucking bastard.

"Oh, good, maybe I won't have to slip him an undetectable poison or something."

"You're adorable. You'll be fine. You have Cissy's mirror, right? Call me if Aster's not up to apparating you back to the gates." She must have walked away again, then, because a few seconds later, Evans knelt to stick her head into the cave's rather low entrance.

"Aster?"

Aster stayed exactly where she was, back pressed into the far wall of the cave, curled into the smallest ball she could manage, too tired to keep running, and horribly thirsty, but too miserable to change back to a human and deal with such petty physical needs as water.

Evans sighed, crawling in to join her. There wasn't really enough room for her — it was a very small cave, barely more than an overhang, the space more a product of the floor receding a bit than the ceiling rising. She couldn't even stand up properly as Padfoot.

"Ouch! Jesus fuck!" Apparently Evans had also realised that, though the space did open up a little once you got past the entrance, it wasn't nearly enough to stand up. "Close your eyes, I'm casting a light charm." It was bright enough in the tiny space that it was still a bit painful through her eyelids. Evans obviously hadn't closed hers, because there was another thunk of head on stone as she startled herself with her own charm. "Aah, God damn it, that's worse!" It cut out almost immediately, Evans scrabbling around to a sitting position uncomfortably close to Aster, her scent surrounding them almost overwhelmingly in the cramped cave, the heat of her body very obvious compared to the cold stone, and her fingers creeping over Padfoot's back, accidentally brushing her fur the wrong way as she presumably tried to find her head.

Aster shuffled around enough to rest her jaw on Evans's knee, just so she'd stop doing that. Not at all because ear-scratches were even better than ice cream when she felt like complete and utter shite. Not that she should let Evans be nice to her, she didn't deserve it, seeing as it was her own stupid fault Jamie even knew that Evans was a necromancer to report it. But she clearly hadn't been arrested or anything, and Aster was weak.

"Oh, hi." There was what seemed like a very long pause. "Nice hiding spot. Very cozy." Was she really going to try to make conversation about nothing, with a dog? "I was worried about you, you know." Apparently she was. "Narcissa was worried, even. I think she realised almost immediately that she'd gone too far, that you really weren't okay. She followed you out, she just couldn't catch up, so she came back to make sure Dumbledore didn't pack me off to Azkaban while she was looking for you.

"Dumbledore really had no idea what to do, though he does seem to think that refusing to let Narcissa be a complete and total bitch to you suggests there's some redeeming quality about me, even if I may occasionally get slightly possessed because I'm still a poor, ignorant muggleborn who doesn't know how to ground herself properly when rituals get slightly derailed, no matter who my biological father is. We had a very brief conversation while we were waiting for Dorea Potter to floo up."

Oh, fuck, they called Dorea? Wait, what was she thinking, of course Dumbledore had called Dorea, she was supposed to be Aster's guardian. But then, why was Bella...?

"I like her. She's nicer than I expected. Stressed at the moment, obviously, but very...mumsy. I bet she and my mum would get on great." Yeah, they probably would. "Of course, she didn't have any better idea what to do about you flipping out than Dumbledore did. Well, her first thought was to make sure that you hadn't run off to murder Potter, which I could have told them you hadn't — did, actually, they just didn't believe me, which... Honestly I'm not sure how I knew you wouldn't have, either. Maybe you just don't strike me as the prideful sort, snapping because that fucking arse dishonoured you. Or maybe it's just that it was beyond obvious he was the only thing holding you together. I've never seen someone just...shatter like that, before. I don't imagine lashing out at the cause of your distress is high on your list of priorities when you're busy collapsing in on yourself."

No, it wasn't. At the moment, she didn't think she ever wanted to see James again, actually. Even if it was to actually break his bloody nose. Maybe it was a good thing Bella was having a 'chat' with him. Though...she couldn't go home again, she realised. To the Potters', she meant. She just...couldn't. Even if Dorea still wanted her around — and there was no guarantee of that, with her thinking that Aster might be capable of killing her son — fucking Bella and her scare tactics... She wouldn't be able to– to live in the same house as...him, even for just a few weeks.

"Anyway, Narcissa just kind of...announced that she was calling Bella to come find you and deal with...everything. And Dumbledore and Dorea just...kind of went along with it? Since they didn't really know what they should be doing. Cissa and I filled Bella in when she got there. I think her being so...well, you know how she is, all unconcerned all the time, that helped. Harder for the adults to panic, you know, when the expert on the subject of you being insane is more concerned about how you're going to be treated when you go back than finding you or making sure you don't hurt anyone, including yourself. Actually tore into Dorea for a bit, apparently she was supposed to tell Bella if Potter was going to completely fuck you over like this, but Potter didn't tell Dorea — Bella went and dragged him out of the Tower to explain himself, shadow-walking really does seem like the most useful thing — and the complete tool actually tried to defend himself. Apparently you scared him, insisting that Bella was going to kill him if he told anyone that I'm a black mage. Which was sweet of you, but entirely unnecessary.

"Not that I'm complaining, really. If you hadn't, and he hadn't been a complete fucking idiot, you'd probably still be stuck on him, wouldn't you? How he can not know that you don't break your word to people who very obviously desperately need someone stable to rely on, I have no idea, bloody moron... And isn't keeping your promises something they teach all the little noble kids? Cissa definitely made it sound like that, when she was telling me about priorities and principles, and how you're supposed to figure out the right thing to do, you know, back when we were kids."

Oh, right. Aster kept forgetting that Evans had somehow managed to convince Cissy to teach her how to fit in. It was deeply, deeply ironic that the girl who'd been raised by bloody muggles had made more of an effort to understand where Aster (and the rest of the Dark) were coming from than her own bloody cousin. Maybe she should've made a point of teaching him, it just...hadn't occurred to her, that he wouldn't know such basic fucking shite as you keep your fucking promises, especially when you make them to people who matter. But then, maybe Aster didn't matter to him. He certainly hadn't been acting like she did for the past two months.

"But it's better this way. It really is. I know it hurts — I still can't believe you feel shite like that all the time, no wonder you're a complete headcase. But I meant it when I said he doesn't deserve you..."

She trailed off, fingers working silently for a few minutes, maybe.

"I didn't mean that."

Eh?

"Not about Potter — he's a right arse, he doesn't deserve you at all — but you're not a headcase."

If Aster were human at the moment, she would have a derisive scoff for that.

"You're beautiful, you know. I mean— Yes, you're all delicate and striking, I know you know you're pretty, but... I don't know what I'm trying to say.

"The way you're always there, doing whatever you're doing, with one-hundred per cent enthusiasm and everything's always all or nothing and the best thing ever or the end of the bloody world... Feeling everything so strongly, and still not holding back to avoid getting hurt, like this, even though you have to know you're going to get hurt sometimes, and you still throw yourself into everything you do with absolutely no reservation, like whatever the costs might be they don't matter, it's worth it, like it's not even a choice, but if it were you'd do it anyway. That's beautiful, in a stark absolutes and dramatic contrasts sort of way.

"And you're that way about people, too. Like, most people, you don't care. Tina and Mary and the rest of them, they could go die in a fire, for all you care. But the ones who matter, really matter. They're your everything. And maybe I was wrong when I said you didn't really love him — yes, cherish this, it's an historic moment, me admitting I was wrong. I still stand by it being a shite relationship for you, and I still really don't think that's what most people mean when they talk about love, but maybe for crazy people who don't do anything halfway, ever, being completely obsessive and madly devoted and making someone else the centre of your entire world is love, all the adoration and desire to please and willingness to overlook their flaws taken to a completely illogical extreme.

"Anyway, now that I get that, I just...kind of think the way you are about people — not just Potter, but the people who matter in general — is really romantic? Except not really in a flowers and chocolates and cheesy poetry way, it's just sweet. Adorable and endearing and...beautiful. And Potter never, never appreciated it."

But you do.

And that...didn't make it better, really. She didn't want to—

She knew she was a crazy person, okay, and she knew that she had a tendency to make stupid, snap decisions, and she didn't want to... She didn't want to just give herself to Evans because Evans seemed like she'd be a better lord to follow than James, and Aster was completely broken and not thinking clearly at the moment, and hurting, and it would just make everything better if she had someone...someone she could let make all of the hard decisions and tell her what to do and who to be. Which was not a good reason to swear fealty to someone, it was a crazy person reason, and that was...bad?

Yes, bad, she knew it was supposed to be bad. That sane people, and maybe even Aster when she wasn't a pile of tiny broken pieces looking for someone to put her back together, would say it was bad. She one-thousand per cent should not throw herself at Evans just because James had betrayed her and she didn't think she'd ever be able to bring herself to look at him again, let alone trust him. But Evans was here, and she understood, or at least she was doing a damn good job faking it, and Aster had betrayed her almost as badly as James had betrayed Aster, breaking that promise. Even if Evans had been just...obviously possessed by fucking Persephone a moment before, Aster still shouldn't have told James that she was actually a necromancer, as in Death talks to her outside of holiday rituals — even if that was the sort of thing anyone should have been able to put together from watching that little show, James couldn't have, and it was definitely breaking their understanding to go and tell him just because he was scared and confused and she wanted to help him more than she wanted to uphold her truce with Evans. She hadn't even thought about it, at the time, she'd just...

"M'sorry," she mumbled, shifting back to her human form.

"You don't need to be," Evans said calmly. "It's not your fault Potter's a stupid fucking arse."

"No, not about... I shouldn't have told him. It's my fault he even knew, about you and Persephone. I did tell him you're a necromancer, at the ritual. And then the next day he said he thought you were evil, and I panicked because I thought he was going to do something stupid and I scared him, and I ruined everything, and— I'm sorry, okay?"

"I knew what you meant. And it's fine. You did everything you could to stop me from being all fae and unnerving, and making it obvious as fuck that I belong to my Lady. That's on me, maybe even on Her, a bit. But it's definitely not on you. It's not your fault Thom and Bella decided to come to the ritual — I invited them, remember? — and it's not your fault Dumbledore decided to be a complete arse about it."

Aster groaned. "It was, though! I told James, and he told Dumbledore — none of this would have happened if I hadn't, or, hell, if I'd just kept my fucking mouth shut about your mum, we could've watched muggle comedians and you wouldn't even know you were adopted!"

"Yes, and then my mother would probably never have told me I was adopted. And if you hadn't figured out who my sire was, I wouldn't have realised that I don't have to pretend to be Prefect Evans anymore, and I don't think you understand how much I hate playing Prefect Evans. Don't even try to tell me you think I'd prefer to be blissfully ignorant here. And I'm sure Dumbledore would have flipped out as soon as he realised they crossed the wardline, even if you hadn't warned Potter. I'm not angry with you, Aster. About any of it. I wouldn't be sitting in this tiny fucking cave with you in the middle of nowhere if I were."

"You should be, though!" Aster practically wailed, wincing at how loud her own voice was in the confined space. "I-I betrayed you! I— You said you wanted me, and I knew he didn't, not like– like that, following him, and I still— I was trying to make him feel better, I didn't even think, and—"

"Asteria?"

She bit her lip to stop her hysterical babbling. "Hmm?"

"I knew you were conflicted, and you weren't ready to let go of him yet, and, again, I was being painfully obvious. If you hadn't said something, Thom would have — he filled me in on what I missed on Monday, you realise. You really, really didn't do anything worth apologising for."

"I-I did, though," she protested weakly, tears leaking from her eyes, her voice growing thick as she entirely failed to hold back the snivelling. "I have to have — I-I fuck up everything, I can't— I can't not be crazy, and I can't go back to the Potters', and Bella has to keep coming and fixing things for me, but even she can't fix this, and—"

"Oh... This isn't really about me, is it? Sorry. Sometimes I'm slow like that."

"It is about you, because you ruin everything. If you hadn't decided to fuck with me and James none of this would ever have happened." She tried to force herself to believe that, but she couldn't quite. Not now, knowing that their priorities were so different, that James didn't– didn't care about her, or even about keeping his promises. Evans was right, he didn't understand her and he wasn't worth following, she just...hadn't seen it until he'd slapped her across the fucking face with it. "That's not true," she mumbled. "It's not your fault. It's... I'm just a fuck-up, okay? I'm bad, and I'm the one who ruins everything, and I just— I can't— I'm sorry. I broke everything and I don't know how to fix it, and– and you can't just say it's fine, I don't need to apologise, because it's not, and I do I just...don't know...how."

Evans's hand paused in its ceaseless petting — Aster really wasn't entirely certain she even realised she kept doing that even when Aster became human again. An air of tension and hesitation crept in around them, though she didn't sound uncertain when she spoke. "Would it make it easier to forgive yourself if I...punished you, somehow?"

"I... What?"

"It's not my forgiveness you need, you know that. And — tell me if I'm way off base here, or something, but — I think you feel like you've fucked up so majorly that you can't just decide it's all okay, even though from where I'm standing it kind of is. I mean, obviously you're still hurting, and you're scared and confused because you don't know what you're doing, but you didn't hurt anyone — other than yourself, I mean — and you're out of a really fucking terrible relationship, now — Potter wasn't good for you — and you may be conflicted about the Blacks, and me, but you know Bella's still there for you, and I know that matters, so...things could be worse. A lot worse. And you know that. You just don't want to feel good about blowing up your entire life, even if it does make room to build a better one. You...think you deserve to hurt over this, like you need to earn the right to not beat yourself up over...fucking up everything, even if everything was already kind of fucked up. So...would it help?"

That...wasn't off base. Not at all, honestly. And that was...kind of disturbing as hell, really. "...You're kind of terrifying, Evans."

"So you've mentioned." Aster could hear her rolling her eyes. "And I take it that means I'm not wrong. But it doesn't really answer my question."

Did she feel like she deserved to suffer? Well...yes. She'd done wrong — she was wrong. And maybe it was just growing up in the House of Black, but yeah, if you fucked up she did kind of feel on some level that you deserved to hurt over it. Like she'd deserved the Dark making her transformation as painful as possible for what she'd done to the Family Magic and the House, and she'd deserved Bella's cruciatus for enjoying the Yule sacrifice — even like she'd deserved to be slapped for that comment about Evans's mum. (Like James deserved whatever Bella did to him for breaking his word.)

Would asking Evans to hurt her mean she didn't have to hurt herself over it, wallowing in her guilt and failure and misery? She...didn't know.

But...it kind of sounded like it might? It actually sounded really fucking appealing, in a sick, twisted, I should not want this sort of way.

"...Maybe," she admitted, trying not to sound too eager about the idea. (Because, yes, Aster, you definitely need to worry about sounding creepily eager about the idea of someone hurting you in front of the person who just suggested the idea.)

"Okay. I'm going to need a little more direction than that, though. I mean, are we talking, oh, I don't know, like...spanking, or twenty lashes, or pain curses, or what? What seems appropriate, here?"

Good question. "Do you know how to use a fire-whip?" The burns lasted after the welts faded, but they weren't permanent, or terribly debilitating. That seemed...reasonable. In a completely unreasonable way, but, on a scale of asking someone to hurt you...

"Um, no. I would almost definitely put my own eye out. Lashing hexes and cutting curses I can do. Actually physically whipping someone, not something I've practised. If you want me to physically hit you with something, I'll switch you, but no actual whips." There was something decidedly odd about someone offering to switch you as though it was some sort of consolation because they couldn't actually whip you, while petting you and playing with your hair.

"Lashing hexes, then. Dark ones." They'd sting more, magically as well as physically.

"How many?"

"...I don't know. Until I say stop? Or, I guess you should probably stop if I pass out."

Evans snorted. "Probably. Okay, get up."

"What, really?"

Evans poked her in the shoulder. "Get up, we're going outside."

"No, I got that—" The little cave-like space was so small Evans probably couldn't even point her wand at Aster properly. "It's just—" She just...hadn't expected Evans to be all...serious about it. It wasn't just some vague hypothetical, they were actually going to do this. Right now. Which was...kind of silly, she hadn't really thought she wasn't serious it was just...weird. The whole situation. Just...really fucking weird. "Never mind."

She scrambled out of the hole as ordered, the light of the moon — nearly full, should she ask Moony if he wanted her to come on Saturday? or just try to explain that she couldn't, not if James was going to be there? — almost too bright after the darkness of the cave. And cold, she hadn't realised how much their body heat had warmed the little hollow. Evans followed, brushing dirt off the seat of her muggle jeans — the ones she'd intentionally worn to meet with Dumbledore, because she wasn't about to let him forget that she'd absolutely been raised by muggles, regardless of her parentage — her navy jumper almost black in this light.

She gave the area around them a considering look, clearing the ground with a few wind-charms.

"Here?"

"Did you have somewhere else in mind? Strip."

Well, no, she hadn't. She did as she was told.

"And kneel...here, facing that way." Evans pointed slightly up-hill, away from the cave, positioning Aster so that she'd have a clear view of her back, the moon slightly behind them to their right.

Aster shivered as a breeze drifted through the already-cold November air, and again as the icy sting of a sterilisation charm washed over her back. She giggled, teeth chattering slightly. Right. Evans was a would-be healer, of course she'd make sure any skin she broke was clean first. Though, there was something...deeply ironic, Aster thought, about a healer dealing out punishment lashes at all. Even if she was kind of doing Aster a favour. Maybe.

The first strike came without warning. Not entirely, she could feel the spell, dark magic flying toward her, she could have dodged it, but there was no incantation, no are you ready or are you sure, and no lecturing like Walburga would have given her, no I'm going to rub your nose in what you've done wrong.

Not that she needed Evans to tell her what she'd done wrong, she knew probably better than Evans herself. Betraying the House and losing what was, as miserable as they had been, the home and family she'd known all her life; completely failing Jamie, first by screwing Evans and then by almost making him an unwitting accomplice in Snape's death, and then by becoming Asteria and making it impossible for him to see her as his best mate anymore — by still liking Bella even though she was evil and the enemy, and questioning the Light and Dumbledore and why exactly they were fighting this bloody war anyway; realising she'd given her honour into the hands of a faithless fucking weasel — she should have known better, should have known that if she couldn't tell him what he meant to her he couldn't be what she needed him to be, but she was a fucking idiot, she'd just let him– let him destroy her, blow after blow.

He'd wanted to kick her out of their room, hadn't been able to see that she was still the same bloody person now as she had been over the summer — he'd told her she was disturbing, to her face — but even when she'd still been Sirius he thought she was weird, not right, spending half the summer hanging out with wilderfolk and vampires and muggle vagrants. He'd told her that he didn't want her to follow him, that he couldn't be what she needed, and she'd refused to hear it, convinced herself she could– that she'd manage, they'd figure it out — that if she pretended he hadn't said it, maybe he could pretend he hadn't meant it, and everything would be fine. She'd kept trusting him, when he'd given her every reason not to, every reason to– to just go back to following Bella's example, or Evans, or Dorea! She was such a fucking idiot — Dorea had managed to leave the House and join the Light, she should have talked to Dorea! Except Dorea was just as scared of her as James. Even more, maybe — James didn't really understand what she was capable of, the horrible things she'd done as a child, how much she enjoyed being a bad person, even though she knew it was wrong, knew she was wrong—

The first strike landed exactly in the centre of her back, drawing a cold line up to her right shoulder blade, but only for a moment before the blood rushed back, inflaming abused flesh, the line growing hot as the pain moved deeper and spread, radiating from the rising welt, the rest of her back tingling as well. She tensed, anticipating the next blow.

It didn't come.

She'd hissed, inhaling sharply, though she hadn't flinched, still sitting on her heels, posture absolutely, rigidly correct, head held high. And Evans had hesitated.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to, Aster."

"I don't." She didn't actually like being hurt, she wasn't that fucked in the head! But...she kind of thought Evans had had a point, about her needing to punish herself. If they stopped, she was just going to keep feeling sick and guilty and miserable, and weak on top of that. "But keep going."

She wasn't really sure whether it said good things about Evans that she did, just reminding Aster that she could say stop whenever she wanted to be done.

Sane people would probably say she should've just stunned Aster and dragged her off to a mind-healer, but Aster kind of really appreciated that she didn't. And it wasn't a bad idea, either. It did help, each stinging, freezing-hot impact driving back the guilt and confusion and making her focus on something real, instead of the darkness and self-hatred clawing at her heart.

It stopped hurting after a while.

Not like she couldn't feel it, but like going numb to the fact that it hurt, lashes landing every ten seconds like clockwork, almost impersonal. Most people who'd beaten Aster, they meant it. They were angry, punishing her for failing them. They were invested in seeing her hurt — furious, their efforts waxing and waning with their rage, or sadistic, enjoying her pain, pushing the torture toward a sort of increasingly painful climax.

Evans...wasn't. She didn't hesitate, not after Aster told her to keep going, but she didn't get the feeling she was enjoying this, or that she felt much of anything about it at all. Maybe she'd been telling the truth, when she said she wasn't angry with Aster. She was just...coldly methodical about it — it took her a few strokes to get the hang of aiming properly, Aster doubted she'd ever practised lashing hexes on a person any more than she had physically whipped someone, but after she did she started casting stripes down Aster's back, parallel to the first one, carefully keeping them from overlapping until she ran out of space, and then switching to a different angle, every point of intersection burning with every strike.

But it stopped hurting after a while.

She couldn't have said how long, and she lost track of the blows about five lashes in, but long enough for the impact and the pain to begin to seem...natural. Almost...soothing, in a way, as intrinsic to her being as her heartbeat. It almost seemed wrong when Evans apparently decided they were done. Aster hadn't said to stop, hadn't remembered to through the hazy floatiness filling her head — though she had also long since forgotten that she was supposed to be miserable, or trying not to be miserable, or...whatever, it didn't matter anymore.

She'd also long since lost the will to hold herself upright, she was already on her hands and knees, but she let herself relax, falling to the ground entirely with a soft whump and clicking of teeth, jarring her head and neck in a way which did hurt, even if the familiar pain of Evans's hexes didn't anymore.

"Aster?" Evans sounded...kind of worried about her, hurrying over to kneel beside her. "Oh, fuck, this is so much worse than I thought it was—"

Yes, well, that was what happened when you just stayed all the way over there throwing hexes at someone.

"Why didn't you tell me to stop?!"

Well, that was a silly question. Obviously she hadn't wanted her to. At least not enough to remember that she should...

"Aster. Say something."

She tried, but her tongue wasn't working at the moment, or maybe her brain. She did manage to make a vaguely questioning sort of humming noise.

"Fuck. Bella?"

Bella?

"Asphodel! Perfect timing, we were just done, here. Are you ready to come back?"

Oh, right, mirror. Calling. Apparating. Yeah, that wasn't happening right now.

"Bellatrix! I was still speaking to you!"

Hi, Dorea.

"Just a moment, Asphodel. Doe? Auntie? If you think I'm more concerned about the psychological well-being of that little maggot you comprehensively failed to adequately educate than I am about Aster's state of mind, you are sorely mistaken. And you can stop lecturing me about scaring the shite out of him right now. I didn't physically harm a hair on his messy little Potter head, which as far as I'm concerned was letting him off lightly — which I only did because the fault for his failed upbringing is clearly not his own! Count yourself lucky that your position precludes my teaching you a lesson or two about what is and is not acceptable behaviour for a former daughter of the House of Black in regard to the children of her natal House, and shut the fuck up. Right, good. Okay. You were saying, Princess?"

"Um, well, I...might have kind of sort of broken Aster. A little."

Bella sniggered. "You broke her? What did you do?"

"Er...that might be better to explain in person? Or at the very least in private."

"That bad, really?"

"Um, maybe? I don't know. But I don't think Dorea wants to hear it."

"Oh, well, in that case, speak loudly. She could do with a few more unpleasant truths tonight."

"Bella! I wouldn't want my mother to know this sort of shite about me, so I'm sure Aster doesn't want Dorea to know."

Mmm, yeah. Dorea would not approve. Not at all.

Though Aster didn't really not want her not to know. The idea of wanting anything at all at the moment was a bit...fuzzy. Distant. Would require effort. She didn't care enough.

"Okay, okay," Bella sighed. "I'll be there in a few minutes." There was laughter in her voice, like she knew whatever Evans had done couldn't possibly be that bad, really, which was nice. That was just the really nice thing about Bella in general. Whatever Aster did, she never thought it was that bad. Broke the Covenant just so she wouldn't have to do dark magic anymore? Eh, maybe kind of selfish, but what else can anyone expect from a child of the Dark? Accidentally almost got someone killed? Maybe a bit sloppy, but these things happen. Becoming a girl? Sure, why not?

"Thank you!" She must have ended the mirror call, because the next thing she said was Aster's name again. "Aster? Can you hear me?"

"Mm?" she mumbled, making a concerted effort to nod, rough dirt scraping against her cheek. There was a sharp bit of rock digging into her cheekbone. That was annoying. But it barely registered against the burning of her back, throbbing with every pulse of her heart — cold night air felt wonderful there, even if the rest of her thought a blanket sounded nice. Or sleep. Sleep would be good.

Oh, wait, no, stop that... she thought, distantly aware that Evans was humming a healing charm over her.

"No, don't," she managed to say, rather thickly.

Or at least she thought she did.

Evans said, "Shh, it's fine, Aster, I'm just healing you."

So she might not have been very clear.

"No."

"No?" Evans repeated. "Did you just say no?"

She nodded. It didn't count if she healed it, that was like skipping out on the worse half of the punishment. And besides, she didn't want to...forget. That she'd already paid for...everything. Start feeling miserable and guilty again, even though— No. Bad Aster. Not doing that anymore. Not thinking about that anymore.

"As in, you don't want me to heal you?"

She nodded again.

"Aster, I don't think you understand, you're really hurt— I didn't realise, I would've stopped if— Oh, Bella! Um. Hi. I, didn't mean to, but, well... I think I might've kind of broken her. She did say to keep going, but she just...stopped reacting, and—"

"—and you panicked because you've never really tortured anyone before, obviously." She came to lie down beside Aster, like she had after she'd become Aster in the first place, brushing Aster's hair out of the way so she could see her eyes. "Asteria, are you awake?"

Kind of.

Bella's eyes were still really pretty.

"Hi," she mumbled, giving her a sleepy smile. It came out more like hey, but close enough.

Bella giggled. "She's fine, Princess."

"Are you fucking serious? She's not fine, just look at her! I didn't realise I was hurting her nearly this badly, she didn't react like it hurt this badly— It looks like I used a fucking flaying curse on her, and she doesn't want me to heal her!"

"Eh, it's all superficial. She's had worse. And I assume she had her reasons for wanting to do this in the first place. If she doesn't want you to heal her completely, don't. Just clean her up and push what would be a day or two of natural healing so she won't keep bleeding on everything."

"But—"

"Oh, shush, you," Bella said firmly, poking Aster between the eyes. "You're going to be plenty sore for at least a week, and you know you can't just go back to Hogwarts all bloody. Especially since you're in no state to clean up after yourself."

Right. Blood magic. Must be properly paranoid about these things. She nodded. Reluctantly.

"Okay, good." Was she relieved? Had she really been worried? Going soft, Evans? "This is going to sting, Aster," Evans warned her, which was about the funniest thing ever. Sterilising charms did sting — on an open wound, they tended to fucking burn, actually. But compared to the welts and the bruising beneath them, it was barely anything. A brief searing on top of the ongoing throbbing. Though that eased noticeably as she coaxed Aster's skin to begin pulling itself back together, and anchored a cooling charm to the soft, conjured bandages she layered over the marks.

"Very neat," Bella noted. "Sit up, Aster." She conjured a glass and filled it with water.

Oh, water. Water was good. Though she did have to sit up to drink it.

She focused on that, mostly, leaning on Evans because, well, she didn't really know why — because she was there, and why should Aster sit up properly when there was someone there to lean against? She was aware that Bella and Evans were talking about her, still, but she didn't really care enough to pay attention. Caring was hard, and she was tired. She really didn't see why anyone ever bothered when they could just snuggle up against someone warm and fall asleep on them. Especially someone who apparently just unconsciously started petting anyone who happened to fetch up in her lap.

Sleep was, she decided, even nicer than water.