One: My So-Called Life
"Would you please let me go?" I question my mother, Adelé Greengrass. She shakes her head, her brown curls swinging from side to side. Her brown eyes, exactly like my own, stare down at me, with fervent love.
"You've grown so much, Tora," my father, Nathaniel, says, out of nowhere. I roll my eyes, while my older by two years sister Daphne looks on with envy at the attention I'm getting from our parents. The train behind us, the Hogwarts Express, lets out a sudden whistle, warning us that we have only seconds to board. I turn my back without a goodbye and Daphne walks behind me, huffing in all her five feet, eleven inches of irritation. When I am on board, I peer out the window and see my parents blowing kisses to me, completely enamored with me, the younger, better-looking daughter.
Right. I say I give you the real picture of my life, not the one I wish I had.
My name's Astoria Cassiopeia (Merlin, I hate that name). I don't consider my family name - Greengrass - to be my real name anymore. Seeing as my relatives thinks I'm a disgrace to the family for being the first Ravenclaw ever in our family history, I think as my middle name as my real name.
So as I have said before - let me show you how my parents really treat me.
"Would you stop slouching?" Nathaniel barks, his face fierce.
"You're a Greengrass," the words come almost reluctantly from Adelé's lips, "we stand up straight, with Slytherin, pureblood pride. Well, at least some of us." She looks down her nose at me, obviously disgusted.
"I say you're adopted," Daphne pipes up. Her long, pale gold hair is held in place with a black hair stick, and her blue eyes are rimmed with silver eye shadow. She looks stunning and every boy that passes by stares at her. She's a Slytherin and the pride and joy of our parents.
Gag me.
I roll my eyes at them all and instead choose to pull The Daily Prophet out of the bag that is slung over my shoulder. I had taken it the moment Nathaniel had left it at the kitchen table. I hadn't bothered to look at the front page, so when I glance at the headline that is under a picture of hook-nosed man with very greasy hair, I nearly choke on my tongue to keep an outburst from escaping my lips.
Severus Snape Confirmed as Hogwarts Headmaster
I glance at Nathaniel and Adelé. No wonder they had looked so triumphant and happy at breakfast! If you had to live with my family, you would see just how deep their pureblood mania was. Oh, don't think they're Death Eaters! They don't have the guts to be an official follower of Voldermort (I don't have a problem with saying his name, don't act surprised). But they think that any Muggle-born or any friend of a Muggle-born was complete and total scum. And I completely and totally disagree with anything.
I flip the newspaper open and begin to read the article. Phrases like "right choice for the job" and "most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school" jump out at me. I fold the Prophet close, unable to look at it anymore. I look around Platform 9 and ¾, seeing parents saying goodbye to their children; not a single Muggle-born is among this gigantic crowd.
Oops. I'm confusing you with all this talk of Voldemort and Severus Snape and a Platform 9 and ¾ with no Muggle-borns on it. Let me fill you in, in case you've recently been living under a rock or inside a small dark cave in Albania.
On August 1st, the Ministry of Magic was taken over by Voldemort and his followers, the so-called Death Eaters. Scrimgeour (apparently) resigned his post as Minister of Magic, replaced by Pius Thicknesse, previous Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. That same day, Harry Potter, rumored to be the only one who could ever defeat Voldemort, went missing (there is currently a ten thousand Galleon reward for anyone who finds him). Also, there is this little thing called the Muggle-born Register and the Muggle-born Registration Commission, which makes sure that only pure- or half-blood wizards can attend Hogwarts. So no more Muggle-borns at Hogwarts.
And how do I know this? Duh, I'm a Ravenclaw. It's our business to know everything about anything.
The real train whistle (not my daydream one) sounds and I turn on my heel, without saying goodbye to Nathaniel and Adelé. I hear them mutter about how disrespectful I am, but I don't care. I've never actually cared what anyone thinks about me. I board the train and close the door behind me. I head towards the compartment where I had put my trunk and my sleeping cat, Cleverness. I open The Daily Prophet and begin to actually read the story about Snape.
Severus Snape, long-stand Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense against the Dark Arts professor.
"I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest Wizarding traditions and values," says Snape. "I find that if we can all teach our young wizards and witches true values, the world shall have a happier outcome in the years to come."
Snape, who has applied for the Defense against the Dark Arts a numerous amount of times, says that he is happy in the choice of his new fellow colleagues. "Alecto and Amycus, I foretell, will make fine professors. I do regret the resignation of Charity Burbage and my resignation as Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. But I do not complain. If the two events hadn't occurred, Hogwarts would not have the two exceptional Carrows."
"Exceptional?" I thunder, staring at the article in disgust. A passing first year looks through the glass door at me in alarm, but I pay him no mind. I cannot believe that Snape, previous Head of Slytherin House, is the new Hogwarts headmaster. This, this is so completely wrong! Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, should be the new headmistress, because Dumbledore died and she's the Deputy Headmistress. That slimy git should be keeping his greasy nose in his own business, along with the other Slytherins.
I throw the Prophet on the seat across from, where it spills open and the pages fly everywhere. Because of my anger, I am blind to the sound of an opening door and a few snickers. It is not until a male voice says, "Look, Daph, it's your little sister."
The voice belongs to none other than the condescending Slytherin, Blaise Zabini. I turn my head to see him grinning at Daphne, who is looking at me. Blaise's pristine white shirt contrasts against his very dark skin.
"How's your mother, Blaise?" I ask casually. "Enjoying her what, eighth husband now?"
I watch with pleasure as his anger shows through his face. Everyone knows that he hates
the mention of the number of stepfathers he has had. All thanks to his scheming whore of a mother.
"She's fine, thank you," Blaise says through gritted teeth. Daphne glares at me; she's fancied Blaise ever since they've known each other.
"What's going on here?" a voice, this time a female's, asks. I nearly groan at the sight of Pansy Parkinson standing behind Daphne. Her black hair has been shortened and there's a green and silver Head Girl badge on her robes. Daphne's face darkens as she glances between Pansy and me. I knew what this was about; you see, Pansy Parkinson is a half-blood Slytherin. Imagine, a half-blood making while a pureblood cannot. Fate and Irony have strange senses of humor.
But that's getting off the point.
"Congratulations, Pansy," I say, turning my head away from her. "Head Girl. Very nice." I am a little stunned that Pansy was chosen as a Head. Honestly, I always thought that that Gryffindor girl, Hermione Granger, would be chosen. But then again, Snape's headmaster now.
Pansy grins, her pug like face alight with enthusiasm. "Thank you. Draco's my fellow Head." She blushes deeply and I fight the temptation to smirk. I know for a fact that Draco Malfoy, new Head Boy and spawn of Death Eaters, considers Pansy as his play thing.
"I repeat. Congratulations," I say to the window. "Now, if you three would please leave me alone, I'd like to continue reading." I take my wand out of my jeans pocket and wave at the scattered pile of newspaper. With a wave, the articles fold themselves neatly and when they're done, they actually resemble the newspaper that I was reading.
"All right then," Blaise says, hand on door. "Goodbye, Miss Outcast. Curl up with your cat." Before I can turn my head back to him, he slams the door with a chuckle and I see him race off, laughing along with Daphne and Pansy. I hear Daphne laughing the loudest, as though she were making fun of some wannabe, not her little sister.
I leave The Daily Prophet on the other and lay on the entire seat. Outside, the bad weather that has threatened to break out all morning finally does, and it begins to rain. The sound of rain against the window wakes up Cleverness and she begins to meow. I picture her pawing at the basket I put her in and my heart simply melts, like when I first found her wandering around Hogsmeade. I stand on the seat and rescue my cat from her prison. Then I place her beside my head as I lay again on the seat. I gently pet her cat's head.
"It's okay, Clever," I say softly. "It's just stupid Blaise making fun of us again." As sad as it may seem, I've never had a friend. Well, a human friend anyway. Truth is, being in Ravenclaw with a Slytherin heritage sort of makes you an outcast with any member of the
four Houses. My fellow housemates don't like me because my family's from Slytherin; Slytherins don't like me because they think I'm a House traitor; Gryffindors seem to think along the same lines as the Ravenclaws; and Hufflepuffs...they think I'm a little weird because I keep to myself.
So, I'm not exactly Miss Popular. I'm, as Blaise correctly stated, Miss Outcast. And I do not give a damn.
Though it's barely past noon, I lock the compartment with a spell that makes it impossible to open from the outside. My eyes close with exhaustion and I fall asleep, Cleverness pawing at my head.
When I wake up, it's still raining and the gas lamps have been turned on. I sit up and rub my head and gently prod Cleverness with my finger. She wakes up and looks at me with her yellow cat eyes. I stroke her black fur and check the time: four-fifteen. I see the lady with the cart pass by and my stomach rumbles with hunger. I did not eat breakfast that morning.
I scramble up from my seat and fling the door hard open so hard that it shatters the glass, catching the lady's attention. Blushing and swearing under my breath, I repair the glass and walk over to the woman, just as a boy and two girls - older than me, by the looks of them - come up to her from the other side.
"What would you like, dears?" she asks the trio. One of the girls, a redhead with brown eyes, hands her a Galleon and ten Sickles.
"Five Chocolate Frogs and seven Licorice Wands for me, thanks," she smiles. I notice that she has a lot of freckles.
"And for you two?"
"Just a Sugar Quill," the boy replies. He has dark hair and a rosy face. To me, he looks like the type to fall, get up and keep repeating the cycle.
"Three Acid Pops, please," the other girl, a blonde, says. She has straggly hair and the most out-there silver eyes. Around her neck is a necklace of butterbeer caps. Her gaze seems to keep sliding in and out of focus. I recognize her as a sixth year Ravenclaw, though I can't come up with a name.
"Anything off the trolley, dear?" It takes me a moment to figure out that she's talking to me.
"Oh, um, yes," I manage to stutter out, blushing as red as the girl's hair. The blonde stares at me with interest as I hand over my money and receive a pile of sweets in return.
"I think I've seen you before," she suddenly blurts out. Her voice has a weird, dreamy air to it.
"You have?" I ask involuntarily.
"Yeah, I have," she says. "You're Astoria Greengrass, right?" She extends her hand. "I'm Luna Lovegood."
There we go! She's the daughter of the editor of The Quibbler. And possibly more of an outcast than me.
"Yeah, I'm Astoria," I say, shaking her hand.
"Greengrass? You're one of Daphne Greengrass' relatives, then?" The boy looks at me questioningly as he asks this.
"I'm her sister." The answer comes in the bored tone that I always reserve for people asking about my relation to my own sister.
"I didn't -," the redhead starts to say, but then checks herself.
"Yeah, she has a sister," I answer, a little flatly. Annoyed by how much being sorted in Ravenclaw makes me nonexistent to the entire population, I turn on my heel and leave the three of them standing there, bewildered. I settle back on the seat in my compartment; Cleverness raises her head as she sniffs the candy in my arms. She purrs gratefully as I feed her part of a Licorice Wand.
"We're outcasts, you and me," I say to my cat. "And it sickens me."
A.N.: This story is a little plot bunny that has been hopping in my head for about three months now. I've always wondered what happened at Hogwarts when the trio was off looking at Hogwarts. First, this story started as Ginny's POV, then Draco's. Then I finally decided on who JKR said that Draco married: Astoria Greengrass. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Review and tell me what you think!