Title: Astral

Summary: "You know what side we're on, right, Tori?" Astoria returns to Hogwarts for her second year and confronts the dark secrets of her past. Against the backdrop of the Triwizard Tournament and the looming second war, Astoria sets out to connect the pieces and stumbles upon a bit of self-discovery. The unknown tale of Astoria Greengrass – book two in the Of the Stars series

Rated: K+, for mild angst and minor character death

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Author's Note: This is a sequel to Luminescence, which relates Astoria Greengrass' first year at Hogwarts. For those who are interested, you can find it on my profile, but please don't feel that it's required.

I am posting this against my better judgment as I don't have much of the rest written and I'm afraid that could lead to updating delays in the future. Hopefully not, but be warned.


Astral

Of the Stars, Year Two

Chapter One – Of Riots and Return Journeys:

"Hurry up, Tori."

Daphne's fingers were entwined around Astoria's wrist, slipping because of sweat but insistent.

Rebounding flashes of light, pounding footsteps, and screams followed them. There was a note of panic in Daphne's voice, something Astoria had never heard before. Daphne was usually so calm, so icily collected like their mother.

Astoria's heart was pulsing in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. Her chest was constricted.

Her Aunt's voice echoed in her mind go up into the woods. Stay out of sight. Your uncle or myself will find you when it's safe.

Implying this wasn't safe. Implying hide because you might be hurt.

Orange light sprung up behind them, casting flickering shadows onto the face of the forest. Fire. Some of the tents were on fire. Astoria wildly thought of their tent, the one with sign marked Lelantos out front saying it belonged to her uncle. She thought of Aunt Aquila and Uncle Varro and those – those people who were inciting the riot, and – and….

Astoria's toe caught on a protruding root and before she knew what had happened her knees scraped painfully against the ground. She heard her voice leave her lips in a scream as Daphne's fingers were wrenched free of hers.

"Daphne!" what was Astoria supposed to do. She couldn't think. Everything around her was dark except for the flashing multicolored lights. People were running. People were yelling. People were shooting spells at random. People were setting fire to tents –

"Astoria! Hurry up!" Daphne hands caught under Astoria's armpits and hauled her to her feet.

Astoria tripped forward, guided once again by the sharp pressure of Daphne's hand around her wrist. She ran until she couldn't breathe. Her legs flew up wildly behind her, kicking up mud and dirt that hit her in the back of the head. It was so funny that little details like that kept emerging from the tangle of darkness and panic.

Astoria could feel sweat dribbling down her back. She could hear Daphne's ragged breathing beside her. She caught a glimpse of swirling brown hair, and a tripping smaller figure as a mother and her son overtook the sisters.

They broke through the barrier of the wood and suddenly twigs and leaves were slapping their faces and grasping at their pajama sleeves. Daphne dragged Astoria further onward, dodging tree trunks that materialized out of the darkness.

This was not supposed to have happened. This could not be happening. It wasn't fair. This was supposed to be an exciting, surprise getaway with her aunt, uncle, and sister. It was supposed to have been fun.

Astoria tripped over another root but this time Daphne saved her from falling. Their pace was slowing now, finally Daphne staggered to a halt with her back against a tree. She released Astoria and hugged her arms around her chest, gasping to catch her breath.

Astoria leaned against another tree, feeling as if her legs had turned to jelly. She half-wondered if she should sink to the ground, or if Daphne would yell at her for getting her pajamas dirty.

Astoria could still hear the crashes and yelling that was the riot in the campsite behind them. She could no longer see anything for the trees that obscured her view. In the darkness around her she could hear other people who'd taken shelter in the wood. Occasionally she caught sight of a glint of an eye or a flash of light from a lumos-tipped wand.

"I – think – we're far enough – in," gasped Daphne through large, gulping lungful's of air.

Astoria had trouble gathering her thoughts. Everything had happened so quickly. One moment she had been discussing the match with her aunt and uncle, another moment and she had been climbing into bed, and the next she was being hastily roused by Aunt Aquila and told to stay close to Daphne and make her way to the wood. That had been when she'd become aware that the campsite outside their tent was not at all how it was supposed to be. People had been running and shrieking, and all the flashing lights, and pounding footsteps –

"Daphne, what was that?" Astoria realized she was shaking. She pushed a lock of her dirty-blond hair behind her ear, trying to control the trembling in her fingers.

"I don't know," Daphne's voice did not sound like Daphne's voice. She sounded tight and panicky, as if she too was trembling. "Just – just some people who had too much to drink…."

"They – they were all marching forward like – like they were organized –"

"They were just some drunks, Astoria. I'm sure it."

"They were wearing masks," Astoria felt her throat close, as if it was unwilling to let her words come up. She felt sick, a feeling she got when she had run too fast for too long. But she suspected it had something more to do with it than that.

Daphne didn't answer. She brushed her hair out of her eyes.

It was just cold enough that Astoria's breath fogged in the air outside her lips. She watched the vapor rise in front of her face and dissipate into the night air. Daphne did not speak. Astoria could hear the frantic muttering of people around her, doing headcounts and asking if everyone was alright.

Slowly Astoria's heart ceased to beat quite so insistently in her chest. She wondered where Aunt Aquila and Uncle Varro were. She wondered if they had gone to help stop the riot…or whatever it had been.

Astoria shivered when she remembered the gleam of silver she had seen amongst the wall of confusion. For a moment she had thought she was looking at a human skull, before she realized it was only a twisted replica – a mask to hide whomever was part of the riot.

Her stomach roiled. For a moment she thought she was going to throw up. She focused on filling her lungs with air, large breaths to calm herself, get a hold on herself.

She had never seen masks like that before, but she had heard of them.

"I didn't want to come to this stupid match anyway," said Daphne. Astoria could tell her sister's teeth were chattering.

"No one forced you to come," snapped Astoria. She wondered why she had. Something about Daphne's tone, when Astoria was still feeling so frantic, and shivery, and confused, had rubbed her the wrong way.

"And no one asked you," Daphne retorted.

Astoria almost had to physically bite her tongue in order to suppress her angry reply. Not now, when they were hidden in a dark wood, lost to what was happening on the campsite, woken in the middle of the night and wearing pajamas.

Astoria crossed her arms, trying to rub warmth back into her arms.

"You're not scared, are you?"

Something in Daphne's voice sounded like a sneer.

"No," said Astoria quickly. Of course she wasn't scared. She didn't know what was happening. She wanted her aunt and uncle to find them. She wanted to go home. She wanted to get back to bed. But she wasn't scared.

"You'd better not be scared," leered a voice from the darkness. Astoria jumped, her back hitting a tree. A thin boy with ratty, dust-brown hair, came into the clearing. He was wearing a smirk and robes instead of pajamas.

"Theo!" Daphne squealed, her voice half-excited, half-alarmed at his sudden appearance.

"Hello, Daphne, thought it was your voice I heard."

Astoria tried to quiet the thumping of her heart. It was Theodor Nott – Astoria knew all about Theodor Nott. Daphne's…friend.

She felt a sudden rush of heat in her cheeks that was not from embarrassment, but more like anger. He hadn't any right to barge in on them like he did.

"I didn't know you were at the match," said Daphne. She sounded half-disappointed, half-accusatory, as if she was annoyed at him for not letting her know.

"I didn't know you were here," he said. Astoria saw him shrug his shoulders through the poor lighting.

"My uncle surprised us with tickets," said Daphne. "He was planning on going with people from work but my aunt made him take us instead."

Theodore Nott, from the expression on his face that Astoria could see through the darkness, looked thoroughly unconcerned. Theodore Nott did not have a very nice face, from what Astoria could see of it. It was thin and pale, and the shadows only served to make his nose point out further, and eyes look beadier and more deep-set.

Astoria didn't know what Daphne saw in him.

"Anyway," he continued, "you don't have to be afraid. They're not after purebloods."

"You know who they are?" said Astoria before she could stop herself. It wasn't her place – but she wanted to know.

Nott turned his face toward hers. She could tell he rose his eyebrows because the shadows covering his eyes grew longer. "You don't?" he sneered. "Who are you, anyway –"

"Oh, that's just my little sister," said Daphne hastily, as if she longed to push Astoria into a corner. "Tori."

The corner of his lip quirked but he didn't greet Astoria. Astoria wondered if he was laughing at her and felt her cheeks burn hotter – still anger. She wasn't embarrassed. She refused to be embarrassed.

"She isn't Hogwarts age, is she?" he asked. "I haven't seen her in Slytherin."

They needn't talk about her as if Astoria wasn't standing right there.

"Oh no," Daphne voice sounded rushed, shamefaced, "she's in Ravenclaw."

"Oh," said Nott, and nothing else. His lip was still quirked.

Astoria focused on breathing through her nose, focused on not inching her fingers toward her wand – but then she realized she had left her wand at home. After all, she wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school – without her mother's supervision, that is – so what was the point of carrying it, anyway.

But suddenly she felt horribly defenseless and vulnerable without it, given what had happened. Not as if she could have done anything to protect herself, anyway. She only had a first-years' magical education and that wouldn't do much good against drunken curses, and rioters.

Daphne and Nott were discussing other things. Astoria turned away and stared spitefully into the darkness toward the campsite, trying to see anything that was happening.

Merlin, if Daphne and Theodore Nott ever decided to get married, Astoria would not come to the wedding. She suppressed a shiver. What a horrid brother-in-law.

Daphne Nott, what a stupid name.

"Have you heard what's happening at Hogwarts this year?" said Nott's voice behind Astoria.

Daphne hesitated. Immediately Astoria discerned that Daphne did not know, but was unwilling to admit it.

"Erm – I don't know, exactly…."

"Dad told me," said Nott triumphantly. "He works in the IMC, so of course he knows all about it."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I don't suppose I'm really allowed to tell you if you don't know…."

"But I know a little about it."

"Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to tell you. If you promised not to tell anyone else. It's top secret –"

Unconsciously, Astoria had turned her head slightly so she could hear better.

"I promise. I won't tell a soul."

"Good, in that case –"

Just at that moment there was a resounding crack, and a rush that sounded like wind. Suddenly the wood was bathed in green light. Astoria felt her heart patter in alarm as she looked through the tree branches above her, trying to get a good look at the sky.

Something glowing and colored a poisonous green was hovering above the wood to the other side of the campsite. Astoria closed one eye to try to discern its shape. She thought of the Irish team's leprechauns – the ones who had performed before the match. She wondered if this whole thing, the riot and the drunken, masked people were all some kind of wild prank to celebrate their win….

She caught sight of a skull-like form, and a winding a tongue that was a writhing serpent –

Daphne screamed. Astoria jumped so violently she tripped over her heel and landed hard on the ground. She looked quickly over her shoulder, heart slamming against her ribs. She hadn't even thought to ask Daphne what was wrong. More screams were echoing throughout the wood.

Daphne had covered her face with her hands. She was shaking all over and leaning against a tree for support. Beside her, Nott was unmoved. He stared at the glowing ornament in the sky, which illuminated his face with a sickly green and glinted in his eyes. He looked enthralled.

Astoria eyes threw themselves back to the green skull hanging in the sky. She felt her stomach clench. Something swam hazily in her mind, a recollection from her childhood, something that was important but that Astoria couldn't remember.

It – that – the skull meant something. She knew it.

Daphne's scream seemed to echo in Astoria's skull. Even though she didn't know why she should, Astoria shrank from the skull. It was ugly, terrible looking, surely spoke something of death –

"Daphne! Astoria!" she heard the shouts in the back of her mind but did nothing to acknowledge them. She had thoughts only for the glowing figure in the sky, erasing the stars with its brilliance.

"Daphne! Astoria!" the shouts were getting closer and more insistent.

"Aunt Aquila!" Daphne's voice was piercing and shaky. She sounded panicked, frantic, frightened…Astoria looked back to her sister to see if it was really Daphne whom spoke. "We're over here!"

There was the sound of crashing underbrush and Aunt Aquila suddenly emerged from the trees. She rushed to embrace Daphne. "Oh dears!" Astoria's aunt was even paler than Daphne. She seemed to glow in the darkness. She was trembling so hard she made Daphne vibrate in her arms. "Are you alright? You aren't hurt? I was so worried –"

"I'm fine," whispered Daphne tremulously. She pointed a shaking figure over her aunt's shoulder to the skull over the trees. "Aunt Aquila, we – have to get out –"

"Don't look at it, dear. You're alright. You're safe."

"What is it?" the voice leapt unannounced from Astoria's lips. She chided herself. Now was not the time to ask questions. Besides, she did not know that she wanted to know the answer.

Her aunt released Daphne and flew to embrace Astoria, pulling her up off the ground and wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Astoria answered. "What is it?"

"It's the Dark Mark," hissed a voice behind her. Astoria jumped and turned around, but recognized her uncle almost immediately. His face was waxy looking. Beads of sweat rolled off his large, hooked nose. Astoria had never imagined her uncle could look frightened. The sight unnerved her almost more than anything else that had happened that night.

The Dark Mark. She felt gooseflesh erupt over her arms. She had heard of it. She had never seen it before but – of course – the Dark Mark. How could it have been anything else?

It was You-Know-Who's mark, left by him or his followers when there had been murder…. Astoria remembered the marching cloaked figures with the silver, skull-like masks. They had been shooting spells, setting fire to tents – Astoria thought she might be sick again.

"We need to leave," said Uncle Varro, his voice tight.

"Did you – help sort all that out, at the campsite?" said Astoria. She wondered how she could continue to ask questions, even now when her mind was racing, wind roaring in her ears, thoughts ricocheting off the walls of her skull. She supposed it was a natural tendency, born of being a Ravenclaw.

"No," said Uncle Varro brusquely. "I collected our things and then we came to get you. I hadn't meant for you girls to run quite so far into the wood."

"It's lucky you did," said Aunt Aquila. She'd released Astoria and was wiping her eyes with shaking hands. She was trying to avoid looking at the Dark Mark as though even staring at it might cause physical harm. "I can't imagine what Lyra would say if one of who had gotten hurt under my watch."

"Come along," said Uncle Varro. He wrapped his fingers tightly around Astoria's wrist and pulled her to his side. Aunt Aquila got hold of Daphne. "Let's get out of here."

Astoria could not have agreed more. He twisted sharply and the wood around them dissolved into a swirl of color and sound. She had forgotten about Theodore Nott, whom was left standing in the clearing, basking in the glow of the Mark.


Astoria closed her eyes and opened them a moment later as she rushed through the barrier between the Muggle world and Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Her cart rattled in front of her. She heard a scrape of wheels against stone as Daphne appeared, pushing her own cart.

"You'll be sure to be good this year?" said their mother, Lyra Greengrass, over her shoulder.

"Yes, Mum,"

"And you'll be careful?"

Astoria answered in unison with Daphne. "Yes, Mum."

"And you'll write?"

"Yes, Mum."

"And you'll do well in class?"

"Yes, Mum," said Daphne. Astoria couldn't see her sister roll her eyes, but she could hear it in her voice.

Lyra Greengrass came to a halt and surveyed her daughters, eyes slightly narrowed but smiling. "Good. Daphne make sure to keep an eye on Tori?"

"Mum," protested Astoria, joined in a chorus with Daphne.

Her mother laughed, a short, brusque thing that she had perfected through years of a personal business-first policy. She curtly wrapped one arm around Astoria's shoulders, "Love you, dear, have fun this year. I'm sure you will."

"Oh, that reminds me," Daphne said, "Theo was saying something about it at the World Cup. Is there anything special happening at Hogwarts this year? He said his father said…."

"I'm really not allowed to tell you," her mother intercepted.

"Mum," Daphne wined, "you've never cared about stupid regulations like that before –"

"I care when we're in a public place like this, Daphne," said Lyra Greengrass, roving the platform with her eyes. Astoria watched the other clustered families littered about the station. She felt her stomach fall in disappointed. She had wanted to hear what it was that was happening at Hogwarts.

"Besides," their mother continued, hugging Daphne good-bye in turn, "you'll find out soon enough."

"Then there is something happening?"

"Aren't you the shrewd little Slytherin?" said Lyra Greengrass, almost rolling her eyes in a move that would look very much like Daphne. "Yes, dear, there is something happening at Hogwarts this year."

Daphne pouted but didn't say anything. Clearly she had realized it wasn't wise to press the issue. Their mother finished with saying her farewells and Astoria and Daphne headed toward the Hogwarts Express. Daphne ran off to find her friends before the sisters boarded, something Astoria was grateful for.

Astoria did not want Daphne present when Astoria met her friends because one of those friends was a Muggle-born. Astoria had met Sara Hibburt the year before. At first Astoria had thought Sara was an annoying, ignorant, clingy little girl. They had fought, ignored each other, and then, wonder-of-wonders, somehow made up and become friends. Astoria had even managed to look past the fact that Sara was a Muggle-born and Astoria, herself, was pureblood.

Daphne hadn't.

Their mother didn't know. But if she did, Astoria was certain her mother would not be able to look past the fact, either.

Astoria had been able to gloss over her friendship with Sara over the summer; it wasn't as though her mother confiscated her mail, after all. She felt slightly bad about deceiving her mother. It wasn't something she normally did. She didn't want Lyra Greengrass to know her youngest daughter had been lying to her, had been hiding things behind her back, had befriended a Muggle-born….

Astoria dragged her trunk into a compartment and set out to search for familiar faces. Her stomach was squirming with a mixture of guilt and fear. She unconsciously glanced out the windows as she passed, looking to see if her mother was still on the station.

"Astoria!"

Astoria turned at the sound of her name and smiled, recognizing immediately the girl who wove her way through the cluster of older students in the hallways. She was sweating and breathing hard, dragging her trunk behind her.

"I'm so happy I found you," said Melissa Jordan nervously, pulling up next to Astoria. "Where are you sitting? I didn't know where to go. I haven't found Sara yet but needed to put down my trunk…."

Rarely had Astoria heard Melissa talk so much. She was a shy, jittery girl whom twisted her fingers in her lap and generally stayed out of the way. She had milk chocolate skin and dark chocolate eyes and a tangle of matted black hair that was usually set in a maze of braids pulled tightly across her scalp.

"Come on," said Astoria. "I'm over this way." They made their way back through the crowded corridor. Melissa hung closely behind Astoria's shoulder, giving Astoria the impression she was hiding from something.

She was suddenly pointedly aware that it had been a whole summer since she had last seen Melissa. She didn't know quite what she was supposed to say.

"So…how was Holiday?" Astoria asked, when it became apparent that Melissa was not going to strike up a conversation. Astoria had never known Melissa to speak first.

"Alright," said Melissa, a shrug in her voice.

"What did you do?"

"I went to my grandparents for a week."

"Oh…that sounds nice."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing much," Astoria had mostly hung around her house. She had never before realized how boring home was, in contrast to the bustle of Hogwarts. She was happy to be going back. "I went to the World Cup," she added, even though she was mutually sure Melissa didn't care very much about Quidditch.

"Really?" said Melissa, "my brothers went with my dad. Mum and I stayed home, though. How was it?"

"Alright," Astoria answered. "I was disappointed with Bulgaria. The only reason they even got in was because of Krum."

"Oh…really?" said Melissa, evidently not even aware that Bulgaria had played.

They reached Astoria's compartment and Astoria helped Melissa lift her trunk onto the racks. They sat down across from each other. Astoria tried to think about what else to say. She figured that after a whole season they should have plenty to catch up on.

"So," said Melissa tentatively, "were you there – at the Cup – you know, when the riot…?"

"Oh, yeah," said Astoria hastily. She felt an odd clench in her stomach at the memory. She didn't want to talk about the riot. "I was there."

"Did you see…?"

"No," Astoria lied. "My uncle and aunt apparated us away before we could."

Melissa shuddered. "It must have been terrifying."

It had been. But Astoria didn't tell people things like that.

There was an excessively cheerful sounding tap on the glass door.

"Sara!" cried Melissa in delight, hopping up from the bench. Astoria turned to see through the transparent sliding door. Sara Hibburt, complete with a beaming smile, slid it open and stepped into the compartment.

Sara had long brown hair, usually in a ponytail, swinging in perpetual motion as she bobbed up at down in an almost inhuman amount of enthusiasm. It spilled out of her pores. She was always smiling, always laughing, always asking questions.

"Melissa!" she shrieked, "Astoria!"

She enveloped Melissa in an embrace. Astoria only just stood up from her bench in time to have Sara's arms thrown around her in turn. Astoria was barely able to register Sara's appearance before the Muggle-born began to talk:

"It's so good to see you! I missed you both so much! I'm so happy to be going back! Did you both have a good Holiday? What did you do? Mine was fantastic! It was so good being with Mum and Dad for so long. But I'm so happy to be back, now! I missed Hogwarts. Who knew someone could ever miss school?"

Melissa was laughing. Astoria felt a smile creep onto her face. Unexpectedly she didn't feel at all irritated by Sara's spiel. Unexpectedly, she felt as if she had almost missed it.

"What about you, Melissa? How was your summer?"

"It was fine –"

"And, Astoria, what about you?"

"It was alright, I guess," Astoria sat back down on the bench. Sara sat beside Melissa, hands flying in front of her as she babbled.

"Anything exciting happen? I went to the fair one weekend with my family. Then I spent a week with my grandparents. My brother and I went to see the Lion King – oh, but you guys haven't hear of that, have you? It's a Disney films. It was really good."

Sara had tried unsuccessfully to explain Muggle cinema to Astoria last winter. Astoria had not been able to grasp the concept of Muggle photographs moving, like magical ones, except that they spoke and told a story and were put on a gigantic screen for Muggles to sit in front of with popcorn and fizzy soft drinks.

Astoria felt the floor of the compartment rattle and heard the whirl of the train's wheels that meant the Hogwarts Express had left the station.

"Astoria went to the Quidditch World Cup," Melissa said when Sara finally drew breath.

"Really?" said Sara, "Was it good? That would have been amazing to see."

Astoria felt her stomach squirm, a mixture of discomfort at suddenly being thrust into the spotlight, and guilt because she had also thought that perhaps Sara would have like to go. But – it wasn't as though Astoria could have brought her. Her aunt and uncle would not have allowed it. Daphne – Daphne would have been a nightmare. Her mother would have discovered Astoria was friends with a Muggle-born.

"It was alright."

"Who won?" Sara continued. "Who was even playing?"

"Ireland and Bulgaria. Ireland won."

"Did you hear about what happened afterward?" Melissa asked shyly.

"No," said Sara, turning her full, wide-eyed enthusiasm on Melissa. "What happened?"

"It was all over the Prophet. There was a riot or something."

"Really?" said Sara. "That must have been so exciting!"

"Scary, you mean," said Melissa.

"Were you there for that, too, Astoria?" Sara asked.

Astoria shrugged. "They were just some people who had too much to drink while celebrating. It wasn't a big deal."

"What about the – the Dark Mark?" Melissa whispered.

"What's a Dark Mark?"

Astoria did not want to talk about this. Mercifully there was another knock on the door. Astoria turned and felt her stomach plummet.

"Stephan!" Sara shrieked. She jumped up and flung open the door. She hurled herself at the first of the two boys who stood in the doorway and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Over Sara's shoulder, Astoria saw Stephan Edgecombe's face turn slightly pink.

"Hi, Sara, it's nice to see you, too," he said, almost breathlessly from how tightly Sara was squeezing his chest. His eyes roved the compartment and fell on Astoria. His face darkened. Astoria glared right back.

Astoria did not like Stephan Edgecombe and he did not like her. It had started last year after she and Sara had become friends. He had come up to her once and told her that he did not trust her, because she was pureblood and Sara was Muggle-born and surely Astoria had ulterior motives. Ulterior motives!

Well, Astoria hadn't any ulterior motives and Stephan Edgecombe hadn't any right to think so.

Stephan tore his gaze away from Astoria's and back to Sara, whom was talking again:

"It's been so long! I've missed you so much! But I was so happy each time I got one of your letters! How are you! Oh – hi, Mark, I didn't even notice you!" Sara addressed the second of the boys, Mark Clearwater, whom stood behind Stephan.

He smiled and said to them all, "Hey. Summer went well?"

"More than well," said Sara. "How was yours?"

Mark shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Stephan and I went to the Cup together."

"Really?" said Sara brightly. "Astoria went to the Cup, too. We were all just talking about it."

Clearly Sara had a poor memory, and did not recall that when Stephan Edgecombe was present, Astoria would rather be kept out of it – lest he got the wrong impression that she was talking to him.

"We were discussing the riot," Sara continued, "Did you both see it?"

"Yeah," said Mark, "It was awesome. Everyone was panicking and tents were blowing up –"

"It wasn't awesome," Stephan snapped, clearly his aggression was not directed at Mark, but at the presence of Astoria. She felt herself frown at him. "People were torturing Muggles."

Sara's face fell, "That – that's terrible. I didn't know that."

"It's not true," Astoria heard her voice leave her lips before she could stop it. "It's just another one of the rumors flying around – like people had been killed. It's all ridiculous. No one was hurt."

"Of course someone was killed," Stephan sneered, "Didn't you see the Dark Mark? But of course you probably weren't even there –"

"Of course I was there!" Astoria felt angry, boiling blood pound in her head. "It wasn't so scary."

"I never said it was scary," Stephan snapped. "I wasn't scared."

"Yes, well I wasn't either," Astoria crossed her arms over her chest. She wished she could bore fiery, melting holes into his head just by glaring.

Sara looked from Stephan to Astoria unhappily. Mark hovered behind Stephan anxiously, as though waiting to see if he should have to intervene. As ever, Melissa had melted into the background, looking worried and biting her nails.

"Come on, Stephan," Mark mumbled, "Let's go back to the compartment. It was nice seeing you all –"

"Yeah," Stephan said nastily, not taking his eyes off Astoria. "I didn't realize she was here when I came in." Mark immediately looked anxious, clearing trying to convey that hadn't been what he meant.

Astoria felt Stephan's words rebound off of her, as if she was wearing a chest plate. She had ceased to be hurt by Stephan's words, but wondered if she might still hurt him.

"No one asked you to come bother us," she said.

"Guys," said Sara, half-worried, half-exasperated. "Can you just stop it, please? I thought you'd have forgotten it all over the summer. I don't even know why you don't like each other."

Stephan blushed under Sara's chiding, but said through clenched teeth, "It doesn't concern you, Sara. See you at the feast." He and Mark left before Astoria could think up anything else to say.

An odd, pressing, uncomfortable silence descended on the compartment. Astoria sat back down when she realized she had gotten to her feet. Sara sat across from her, beside Melissa again, and frowned.

"Don't say it," Astoria warned, catching Sara's eyes and not liking the way they looked.

"Say what?" said Sara.

"That Stephan and I should just forget it and try to be friends."

"Forget what?" said Sara.

Astoria hesitated. That wasn't really in context of their conversation – "What do you mean?"

"See!" Sara replied, "even you don't know what you and Stephan are fighting about."

"He," Astoria sputtered, "he – insulted me! Besides I don't – doesn't have anything to do – I don't want to talk about it!" She folded her arms over her chest again, and fought the blush creeping up her cheeks.

Sara sighed, "Just don't pull your wands out at each other, or anything."

"He wouldn't be worth it," Astoria retorted.

"So," Melissa piped up, quietly and unexpectedly. Sara and Astoria turned to stare at her. "With Professor Lupin gone who do you think we'll get at Defense Professor?"

The question served as the distraction it was intended to be. Sara and Melissa began discussing the coming school year and after a minute Astoria joined them. She didn't want something as irritating as Stephan Edgecombe to come between this friendship, after all.


Author's Note: Uhg, I hate first chapters. So much to explain and so little space to cram it all into…hopefully none of this sounded too forced.

I'll be hopefully updating sometime over the weekends, shooting for Saturday morning but there might be a couple of Friday's mixed in, as well as a Sunday or two in case I'm running late.

I hope you enjoyed this. Please drop a review if you did. Thanks!