A/N:

Disclaimer: don't own harry potter or its characters. I sort of own Cynthia but not her surname/family.

Ok so originally this was just me writing for funsies just waffling on and on and then I was like 'you know what? I'll just post it. It can be a one shot!...oh no wait its nearly 10 000 words...ok'

So if u get the feeling that is should kinda all be one chapter...well that's cause that's what I thought too.

"No Way!"

"Cummon Tori, you know it's true."

My best friend, Cynthia and I lay on our backs gazing at the ceiling of my room, contemplating the great mysteries of the universe.

"Cynth," I rolled on to my side and gave her my very wisest of looks, "there is no way in hell that Snape could take on an army of house elves! It's just not logical."

She rolled her eyes and flipped over to face me, "Astoria, he was a WIZARD, a really powerful one and-"

"Merlin rest his soul" (A/N: we miss ya buddy)

"Yes, yes...an-"

"A moment of silence, please."

"Tori you didn't even like him!"

"Cynthia!" How dare she! Just because I hadn't spent my Slytherin days kissing Severus Snape's ass like the majority of my house didn't mean that I hadn't had a level of respect for him.

...I just used the phrase 'Severus Snape's ass', didn't I? Great, now I have to burn my brain cells.

"Personal preferences aside we must honour our fallen." I said as solemnly as I could and pulled myself up into what I hoped was a dignified position. My eyes were shut in respect so I couldn't check.

Apparently it wasn't because Cynthia sniggered.

"Astoria Greengrass you are so-"

"Excuse me; I am having a minute of silence here."

"My bad."

"I forgive you, now hush."

We sat in silence for the next minute (though it was probably more like 56 seconds or something but I couldn't be expected to know with my eyes closed -not even if they were open - Daphne smashed my clock last week) and I opened my eyes and lay back down next to my friend.

"Now. Where were we?" I said with what I like to think was dignity.

"Well I was trying to explain my case, but you-"

"Yes, yes. Do continue with that."

"You like interrupting me don't you?"

"It does seem to be one of my strong points, but keep going."

"Right, well...yes Snape was all powerful and everything not to mention the fact that they're just house elves! They haven't even got wands!"

"But there's an army of them! And they've got their own magic. Plus they've got really pointy fingers."

She scoffed. "What does that got to do with it?"

"Absolutely everything."

"Er...right..." Cynthia crinkled her eyebrows, almost with a sense of disbelief (though why I'll never know), then glanced at her watch. "Don't you have a party to get ready for or something?"

Party?

Party.

PARTY!

"CRAP!" I leapt up and ran over to my trashed clock (which I kept for sentimental reasons), shook it and then flung it across the room in frustration. I spun around to see Cynth standing up and dusting herself off clearing trying not to laugh.

"What time is it?" I asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

She checked her watch again "6:30"

The party from hell (no, no sorry, 'social gathering') was at seven!

I sighed exasperatedly. "Why didn't you tell me before!"

"Er...forgot?"

"Oh Merlin we are so screwed!"

"No, you are so screwed." She pointed a finger at me.

"Right."

She was right though. Cynthia was what most people in the pure blood community (people like my mother and Pansy Parkinson) would call a hopeless case. She had short, bright orange dyed hair that spiked out in all directions, vividly green eyes and she only ever wore black and Weird Sisters merchandise. She also seemed to enjoy setting expensive things on fire.
I thought she was brilliant but as previously stated, that wasn't a view shared by all, and by this stage everyone just expected her to turn up in her usual skinny jeans and t-shirt saying "If it's too loud you're too old", if at all.

Lucky, lucky girl.

I, on the other hand, am a Greengrass. We are not only pure of blood, but noble and poised. We are elegant and distinguished. We are honourable and respected.

And I am quite the fail if I do say so myself.

Not like Daphne, oh no. As I am constantly reminded - I am nothing like my big sister.
She has long flowing chestnut hair. I have dark blonde waves that frizz up when it rains. (Which, sadly to say here in England, is rather often). Her eyes are 'soulful' and blue but I get stuck with plain old brown, (and as Blaise Zambini had once pointed out, they were 'a bit too big for my head'. This was before Cynthia punched him, of course.) She had 'chiselled, angelic features' (direct quote I swear) and a tall, graceful, perfect body. As for me, well let's just say one of my high school nicknames was shortass-Greengrass- that piece of literary genius was courtesy of Vincent Crabbe .

To cap it off, Daphne seemed to have the world wrapped around her perfectly manicured little finger; that girl could not put a foot wrong.

And she always knew what to wear to these stupid dinner parties.

"How about this one?" I held up a pink dress for Cynthia to evaluate.

"Tori, you're blonde." She said with a hint of sympathy. Was she trying to say something?

"Really? I hadn't noticed." I muttered, dryly.

"You can't wear pink; you'll look like a barbie doll!" I knew I should never have shown her that stupid muggle toy.

"You just hate pink!" My oh so witty comebacks had clearly never been better.

"Well so do you!" She replied.

"Yeah, but in case you hadn't noticed, I don't exactly own an abundance of dresses!" It was true. My closet mostly consists of t-shirts, track pants and a hat in the shape of a giant snake that made hissing noises when people talked too loudly (who says I don't have Slytherin pride?).

At that moment my mother decided it would be a good time to burst forth and scar me further. Into the room she swept in a swirl of sequins and beads...and feathers?...Merlin help me.

"Astoria! Why aren't you dressed yet? Mr Shacklebolt is already here and we're ready to take the portkey." Oh yes, by the way, we happen to live over a hill from the Minister for Magic, so I get to fall over walking down the stairs in front of him as well. Joy.

"Mother I don't have anything to wear" I started, and then I was hit with a stoke of pure genius. "Maybe I shouldn't go!"

"Don't be silly, Astoria. You'll just wear one of Daphne's gowns." My own mother paused to give me the once over, "Er...from when she was...much younger."

"But mother!"

"No buts - I'll go fetch it, you start on your hair. Honestly Astoria, you'd think you didn't want to go to the minister's party!" And with that she whirled from the room, leaving a trail of glitter behind her, which may I add, had an annoying habit of sticking to everything I own. When the door closed behind her, Cynthia (who Mother liked to pretend didn't exist) burst out laughing.

"You are like, the definition of a misunderstood teenager!"

"Yes, yes laugh as my world ends."

"Bit dramatic there, Tori. I don't know why you hate these things so much. They're hilarious!"

Cynthia had always enjoyed watching the socialites of our world conversing as if they actually cared what the other had to say. I didn't.

"You know perfectly well why I hate them. They're just excuses for me to embarrass myself in front of the most annoying people on the planet-"

"And Draco."

"Yes thank you and Draco, while my poor deluded father keeps trying to get me to marry Gregory Goyle, for reasons unknown to man, and Daphne struts around with her stupid friend-"

"Who happens to be Draco's girlfriend." Cynthia wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Thank you Cynthia. Stupid Pansy stupid Parkinson with her stupid pretty pink lace and her stupid ugly face!"

"Oh, you've made a rhyme!"

"ARGH!"

"Calm down Tore, besides I doubt half of them got an invite to this thing, it's strictly VIP you know - I mean I didn't even get invited!"

"Yes, I wonder why..."

"Well I'm sure it's just a simple misunderstanding, that's why I'm going anyway; to save them the embarrassment of realising what an important member of society they left out." She said , twirling her hair around her finger.

"You're right Cynth, I'm sure they were just about the send you your owl after they'd sent off Harry Potter's, but the kettle boiled and it slipped their minds."

"Kettles can be rather distracting." She said knowingly.

"...I think that's just your kettle."

I would like to note the Cynthia's kettle is bright green and starts singing opera once it's boiled.

It was a birthday present.

I was about to fall back onto my bed when Mother bustled in again holding something that looked suspiciously like it had puffed sleeves.

"Mother, what in the name of Merlin's kettle is that?"

I was in a kettle mood.

"It's a dress Astoria, I do believe you've encountered them before. Now stop lounging around and come here! I need to fix you up."

That right there folks is an encouraging mother-daughter relationship.

I was dragged off my bed and over to my dressing table which clearly contained less hair supplies than my mother deemed reasonable. As she began to tug the comb through my hair she glanced over her shoulder at Cynthia who had chosen that moment to start to eat an earwax flavoured bertie botts bean and was trying to discreetly cough it up into a tissue.

With a look on her face that Narcissa Malfoy would have been proud of (we have a theory that they practice their sneers together), Mother went against her better judgement and spoke to her daughter's best friend.

"Cynthia, make yourself useful and go to fetch Daphne's hair care elixir."

"Er...which one Mrs G cause I'm sure there's, like, 50..."

"Don't give me that cheek young...er...lady, the pink one with the floral label."

Great, pink AND floral.

"Aye, aye captain!" And with a rather professional salute Cynthia marched off on her mission.

Mother muttered something that sounded like 'miscreant' and ripped a rather large knot from my poor, delicate scalp.

"Ow, Mother, that hurts."

"Well, I'm sorry Astoria but maybe if you'd started getting ready a little earlier like your sister, you wouldn't be in this situation."

Yes, yes. All hail Daphne the Great and all whom she resides over.

"Now hurry up and get changed."

"But Mother my hai-"

"Multitask, Astoria."

Right.

If you have never tried to wriggle into a lilac 'gown' with puffed sleeves and a frilly waistline while a magical socialite attacks your head and Daphne Greengrass screams in the background, I'll tell you now, it ain't easy.

Because no scene of discomfort is complete without her, my dear sister chose that moment to come bursting into my room in the very Mother-like fashion.

I need to get locks.

And a moat.

A moat would be nice.

I could keep turtles in it.

"ASTORIA!" I was brought back from my happy world of turtles and moats by the sharp pain in my ears that only Daphne can cause.

"Yes, dear one?"

"Don't give me that, what was this doing in my room?"

She flung a disgruntled looking Cynthia into the room. Daph's stronger than she looks.

"Excuse me, Miss Priss," Cynth righted herself and glared at the older girl, "But your mummy dearest was the one who sent me into that den, so go complain to her."

And for the first time in living memory Daphne actually took someone else's advice. It should be documented.

"Mother!" She whined at a pitch that really should not be legal.

"Daphne, sweetheart, mummy's busy at the moment, as you can see I've got a lot of work to do in a very short space of time so why don't you go down stairs and wait with Daddy and Mr Shacklebolt."

Honestly, you'd think she was talking to a 5 year old.

That's really not fair.

On the 5 year olds.

Daffers huffed, stomped her foot and stormed out of the room probably to go bombard the poor minister with stories about her new lip gloss.

"Why can't you be more like your sister, Astoria?" Mother sighed for what felt like the millionth time as she finished with my hair.

Oh Merlin, there were pearls in it.

"Er...because I enjoy having a functioning intellect."

"Don't be so rude, now hold still." Her bright red nails dug into my cheeks as she secured my face long enough to pile copious amounts of make-up on to my face.

Dear lord, I looked like a sparkly clown!

"Now, Come ON." She gushed as she flew from the room, actually leaving a trail of feathers behind.

I wiped off the majority of the face-gunk as Cynthia and I followed her downstairs.

The going 'down-stairs' part wasn't exactly what one would call...successful.

I hooked one of my 3-inches-too-tall heels onto one of the steps and then proceeded to tumble all the way down to land in a heap at the bottom.

Pain in my elbows.

As a felt to make sure I still had all necessary body parts I noticed that my hair was still perfectly intact.

What did she put it in?

Cynth rushed down to help me up not even trying to cover up her laughter.

"Are you alright?"

I looked up at her. "We both know that if I couldn't survive falling down stairs, I'd have been dead a long time ago."

"That's the spirit, Tori."

My crash landing seemed to have alerted all the dignified people that we were ready to move because at the moment the Minister of Magic , (who was 'obliged'; here having the meaning of forced, to share a portkey with us) walked out into out foyer, followed my very frilly family.

"Are you girls alright in here? We thought we heard a crash."

"Yes we are, and yes you did." I smiled, trying and failing to smooth the crinkles out of my dress.

"Right, well we really should be going now." My mother checked her watch in that way which very important people check their watches.

"True that, Mrs G, we wouldn't want to miss the soiree." Cynth grinned while both my mother and sister paled.

"Excuse me, Cynthia" Mother whispered through gritted teeth, which I assume was supposed to be a smile, "but, 'we' as in you?"

"Sure thing Mrs G, that is..." Cynth's beam slid from her face and she pulled the greatest sad face I had ever seen "unless you don't want me to come..."

Now normally Mother's response would have been something along the lines of 'of course I don't want you to come, you slimy little cretin! Now get out and never darken my doorway again!" But seeing as she was in the presence of the Minister for Magic, a man whom she liked to believe, held our family in the highest honour, even though he probably loathed the sight of us, things went more like this;

"Oh...well...I..."

"No, no!" Cynth whipped an imaginary tear from her eye and turned towards the door "I completely understand, go! Enjoy yourselves! I'll just head on home"

She took one heavy step away from us.

"To my little empty apartment."

On she trudged.

"All *sniff* alone."

She was at the door by then and wrenched it open dramatically. She gazed out into the night and then back to us like a lost puppy.

"Oh, look" She sighed "It's raining."

That was too much for the minister. Either he had a very big heart and was very gullible or he enjoyed the effect Cynthia's act was having on Daphne as much as I was, because he turned to Mother and said "I don't see why she can't come, Marissa."

YES! VICTORY!

With that Cynthia bounded back down the hall and stopped just in front of the minster shaking his hand vigorously.

"Golly gee, Thanks Minster!"

Ignoring my convulsions of silent laughter my mother pushed past me and placed a hand on the minister's arm. Eww, isn't there a 'no-touchy' rule or something? She was going to go get her feathers all over the poor man's robes.

"B-but Kingsley, dear she...er...she doesn't have an invitation!"

Ok, seriously Kingsley? Dear? Get off of him woman!

The Minister seemed to be thinking similar things because he plucked her talons off his robes, as politely as he could, and took the tiniest step away.

"Really? Well that is unfortunate..."

Wait, he didn't actually care did he? Minister! I thought I knew you!

"...We'll just have to make sure that she gets one for all the future get-togethers we have, won't we?"

AGAIN, VICTORY!

Mother looked like she could have fainted. She stumbled back and had to steady herself against Daphne who was frozen with horror.

"And as for tonight, I would like Miss Nott to be my special guest." The minister smiled down at Cynth, whose eyes lit up and held her hand up for a high-5, which he returned with all the expertise of a much younger man.

"Dude Sir! You rock!"

"Er... thank you."

"No, thank you" She spun around and gave me a thumbs up, while Daphne who had had to start fanning mother, glared daggers at us both. 'Tis a fun life we lead.

My father, a quiet, balding man who was terrified of his wife (rightly so) and who had been watching the whole scene unfold with a bemused expression, glanced down at his watch.

"Well, now that everything's all sorted out, I think it's time we get going?" Then, as an afterthought to his strange boldness, added "That is...it is getting rather late..."

"Right you are, Wilbur" The minister grinned, patting Father on the back and causing him to quake slightly. "Shall we-?"

At the Minister's indication we all reached for the gaudy pink and gold vase that was our portkey and vanished from the scene.

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I'll love you forever.