A/N Endless apologies. I thought of abandoning this story, because I'm currently doing a load of exams, but I couldn't. I write for me, not for reviews, and I do appreciate them all, but this means my schedule is erratic at best. However, I like how this chapter turned out, so I'd really love to hear your feedback.

I'd been happy earlier. Really, truly happy. And now? Now I was just fucking numb. Like my emotions had been deleted. I was empty.

I'd been happy for a few reasons, and one of those reasons was that is was beautiful outside, one was that it was nearly Christmas break, and one was Daphne.

We'd both met up and made up, and although I'd never admit it outright, I was supremely glad about it. She was my sister, and for all I wished I didn't care about her, I couldn't pretend I really felt like the cool, stand-offish tough exterior that I projected. Underneath it all I cared for Daphne, for the bond our shared blood afforded, more deeply than I thought - but I'd never tell her. You never tell someone you love them, it makes you look like an idiot. I couldn't tell her, but she knew. I hurt if we weren't friends, or at least 'friends'; sisters on speaking terms.

She may have been a bully and a constant mirror reflecting back at me all my faults in comparison to her flawlessness, but she was my saviour as well. Every time Father had lashed out at me, physically, mentally - it was her I turned to. Mother shielded me too, but she stood up to Father, and Daphne would just hold me. She was a complete bitch to me afterwards, but when I needed her, she was there. We were family.

So I'd been happy. Maple syrup, completely sappy, smile-slipping-through-my-mask happy. I felt like I could do anything - confront Father, tell Nott how much I loved his note, talk to Draco... I was unstoppable. I was infinite in that moment, when I basked in the warm glow of sisterly affection.

But now? Now I was nothing. The glow was faded; I was finite, and mortal, and very, very alone.

My mother was dead.

My mother. My Mother. My mother. Dead. My Mother was dead. The words were alien. My Mother, dead. A non-presence. Gone.

She'd died in her sleep. The nurses at St. Mungo's said there wasn't anything suspicious about her death, that she was running on a ticking clock, but Father had predictably gone mental. I sometimes think the only thing he's ever cared about is Mother. Not his parents, not me, not even Daphne held such a place in his heart. But she did. She was special.

That was why, I supposed, that Daphne had gone to be with him. He needed her. He needed Daphne with her flowing blonde hair and bright blue eyes, with her innocent face and small loving hands to caress tiny circles on Father's back as he stared at my Mother's body, shell shocked, wandering what to do. He needed Daphne as a reminder that Mother had ever been, that she'd existed, and mattered, and had left her legacy with her daughter, her clone.

He hadn't needed me, but I didn't care. In fact, I didn't feel a fucking thing.

What was wrong with me? Was I so cold, so selfish, that I couldn't even mourn the death of the only person I'd ever truly loved? I couldn't even cry. Not one solitary tear had crawled out of the abyss of my eyes, and none threatened to fall. No emotion had shown when I'd heard the news. Nothing, save perhaps surprise. My voice didn't catch with emotion when I said I'd like to stay at Hogwarts, thanks, and no I would not be returning home. I would continue with my lessons.

I was a monster. She was my mother. And all I could feel was numbness, it's thick tentacles wrapping around me, stifling me with their emptiness, chocking me.

I'm not even sure I could have said anything else, even if I'd wanted to.

I'm not even sure I have a voice anymore.

It's like I can't breathe, or sit, or stand because I'm just so fucking empty that my body is just collapsing in on itself, in and in and in, because there's no Astoria there to push it out again.

I try though. I sleep and I eat and I do my homework like a good girl, mechanical, dead, a metal shell of a girl, and it's like I'm watching myself through a window. I go down to dinner but it's not me, this isn't me, this unresponsive girl who looks normal but is empty inside. She's just a sick joke, a puppet, but I'm not the puppeteer anymore. I'm nobody. I hear all the words they fling around me, whisper whisper, hush, mustn't let her hear, but I don't react. I don't exist enough to react.

"Didn't her Mother-"

"Yes! Didn't you know? She killed herself -"

"I always knew she was cold but I never -"

"Doesn't she care at all?"

"Her sister went home to be with family, but look at her. Unfeeling -"

"If it was me -"

"Ice-queen."

"Not one single tear! I hear she's staying for the holidays too. You'd think she'd get lonely without her sister but she chose to stay here - "

Daphne's gone, Mother's gone, Father was never here. A neat little set which I don't fit in to. Gone, gone, all gone but me.

And so I just sit there, eating and listening, no mask because I have nothing to hide, nothing's there, except me, listening and eating, my hand robotically shovelling food into my mouth, spoon after spoon of Merlin knows what hits my empty insides, thud, thud, filling me up so Astoria can be a real girl again, and not this stone replica.

I pay for it later, the things that mixed inside in the empty space are repulsed by the nothingness and come flying back up into the toilet basin in the isolated cubicle on the first floor. I'm safe from their whispers here. Moaning Myrtle, my currently absent knight in shining armour, will keep them away.

Death keeps everyone away, it seems.

When I'm finally done, I flush away all evidence that I'm empty again and turn to the mirrors. I look awful, but for once I don't care. I have nothing to look good for. I'm just a shell. Astoria is dead; long live Astoria.

My breath is putrid and rotting. I disgust myself, and I heave once, twice, worried for another relapse or sickness, but I don't. There's nothing left to give, nothing left to expunge from my body. I'm repulsive, but fixable. I'm magic, aren't I? My wand creeps into my hand, and I know what I have to do. I have to get clean. I'm filthy. No wonder everyone leaves me.

"SCOURGIFY" I scream, wand pointing at my mouth.

Pink bubbles sprout into being, spurting from the tip of my wand, and suddenly I'm choking; soap pervading my senses, permeating my mouth, penetrating my nasal cavity, and my eyes can't see anything, just soap, soap everywhere. I spit and spit but even when all the bubbles are gone I'm still not clean. I'm dirty, impure, my soul black and obscene, if I even have one.

Maybe I don't have a soul. Maybe it's just me.

Astoria Greengrass, always alone.

It could be a novel. The tragic tale of a young girl least liked by her abusive father, abandoned by her loving mother, bullied by the perfect sister who saved her from her father - her tormentor and saviour all wrapped up in one happy bundle. Unlikeable. Unloved. Hollow.

I need to escape.

Surprisingly, it's easy. Hogwarts is destitute, for once the hallways are clear, stark. I must have stayed in Myrtle's kingdom longer than I thought. I make my way to the astronomy tower, evading any form of detection. I'm tired, but I want to feel something. I want to feel the thrill of fear as I contemplate falling, the rush of wind against my cheeks, the chill wind saturating my skin with it's icy splendour. I just want to feel alive.

I sit there for a brief while, watching the stars, envying the stars the night sisterhood, their utter togetherness, drifting in and out of human awareness in perfect unison. I watch the grounds as the wind whistles through the grass, as it catches the smoke from the gamekeepers cabin and scatters it among the sky. I watch the forest as it rustles and tweaks, teasing, hinting at the life that thrives below it's leafy canopy. I watch, silent, before he finds me. I knew he would. Somehow, I knew he would. Draco and I are inevitable now, although I don't know how it happened. He's wormed his way into my life without my knowledge or permission. Our self-imposed silence doesn't change this.

I let him speak first.

"Astoria..." the words fade. I am unresponsive, a pillar of steel with no emotion. He thinks I'm being difficult but I'm not. There's nothing to hide.

He tries again.

"I can't imagine how you must feel. Everything I am I owe to my parents... to lose one would be unimaginable."

I default back to bitch - if I pretend everything is normal, maybe he'll leave. I'm terrified he'll find out how awful I am, how cold and unfeeling.

"So send them a knut and square the account."

"Why are you doing this Astoria? You're allowed to hurt. Let me in. Maybe I can help."

"Draco, please believe me when I say if anything If said offends you, I meant it. Someone with your brain cell count can't help me."

I could have pulled that off a lot better if my throat wasn't still hoarse and crackled from the combination of regurgitated dinner and 'cleansing' bubbles.

He doesn't say anything, but he walks towards me and plonks himself by my side, looking at me expectantly.

"Let me in. You'll feel better, and you can't possibly be worse than me." he says it quietly. No underlying tone that turns my stomach, nothing. Pure and simple. Let him in.

Non-judgemental Draco is wearing me down just with his presence. He's strong, I know he wont back down. I can't hold up. I'm fragile, and cracking, and he's dangerously close to breaking me.

He tries once more. "Why won't you let me see you, Astoria?"

I look at him now, and my breath is stolen from me at how he's looking back. He's bared his soul for me. His stormy gray eyes are looking at me, flooded with concern and the steely will I've only ever seen in his eyes and the mirror, full of life. I look, really look, at him for the first time, taking in his dishevelled hair, his artfully disarranged clothing, his red lips, and think in that moment, when he's bared his emotions for me, knocked down his mental walls for this silhouette , non-real girl, Astoria Greengrass, that he's never been more attractive. This is a Draco I could fall in love with.

I shut my eyes tightly against this thought, and capture right now in my mind forever. I want it to be for always. And then I breathe deeply, letting the feeling go. I keep my eyes clenched tightly shut.

"Because I'm afraid you won't like what you see." I whisper.

A/N Angst. Death. No hot love scenes. I suck so much, I'm sorry. At least it's nearly double the usual length though.

I hope I managed to get across how mentally unhinged she is right now too – I think she's a girl at the edge of the proverbial cliff. Feedback is very much appreciated.