Fair warning, Harry and Astoria's friendship evolves quickly, even more so in this chapter. That's just sort of how I saw Harry in the book. Theres some mention of violence, and domestic abuse in this chapter though it's very brief and has to do with a separate character than our two leads. Enjoy!
The main problem with living the estate of the largest pureblood family in Britain, was that it was very difficult to live in. It had taken him ages to disable Moody's spells-along with the hoard of curses the deatheaters had left lying around-but it was still every once and a while that he stumbled upon something distinctly 'd figured they could apparate in, now that the fidelius charm had been permanently disabled by Kingsley.
How very wrong he was.
The moment Harry appeared on the muddy threshold just inside his door, he was greeted with a sharp pain in the space under his knees. He yelped and toppled over, hearing a startled cry that could only be Astoria's entrance, and a high creaky battle cry as a blur of gray ran at her so quickly Harry was hardly able to recognize his old house elf.
"You is a attacking master Harry! Filth, filth in Kreachers house, filth in the house of Kreachers ancestors!" Harry scrambled to his feet as Kreacher proceeded to whip the startled slytherin with what looked like one of Harry's dirty sweatshirts. Astoria yelped, eyes widened in complete surprise. Harry jumped towards her to intervene between the crazed elf and his newfound friend when there was an ominously familiar swish, and the dark curtains obscuring the portrait of Walburga Black tore open.
"Tainted blood in the house of my ancestors!" She screeched raising her painted wand angrily. "Destroyer of my lord filling the home with his mudblood filth!" Harry turned rushing once again obscure the portrait when there was another impressive yelp from Astoria's direction.
"Kreacher will protect master Harry from the wicked girl!" Astoria seemed to be in a state of complete shock, eyeing him with an expression that clearly said are you serious?
"No that's my dead godfather!" he said automatically, not realizing in his confusion that he'd uttered the statement aloud. He tugged the curtains back just as there was a roar of dust from the carpet below his feet. The ghost of Albus Dumbledore tore from the upholstery, flying towards Astoria in menacing silence. Harry cursed. This charm had been the only one he and Kingsley had had trouble with, they suspected it to be either something very old or possibly of mad-eyes invention, and in it's aging state it had a tendency to be a bit finicky. Still it hadn't erupted for at least six months and he'd assumed...
Astoria screamed, finally torn to her senses as the figure loomed over her, shadowing her slim figure.
"She didn't kill you, now go back to your bloody carpet!" Harry yelled frustratedly as he continued to tug at the wailing Walburga's curtains. "And Kreacher she's a friend, stop hitting her, help me with this one-" he said, pointing at Walburga who shrieked in outrage. "And then put that in the wash," he gestured to the hoodie which Kreacher promptly dropped, scowling quickly at Astoria before rushing over to Harry.
With the help of the elf Harry managed to close the thick curtains, silencing the crazed woman. He sighed, dropping to the floor and glancing apologetically at Astoria, whose jaw had dropped in shock. She closed her mouth quickly and grinned.
"Advanced security system?"
"More or less, he said, smiling and holding out his hand, which she took, hoping to her feet. "Lunch?"
Kreacher had thrown together a very pleasant bit of leftover steak and kidney pie, which he tossed on a couple of the black family plates, emblazoned with the thick black crest that was unavoidable at Grimmauld place, and muttering about idiotic blondes before disappearing into the main hall.
"Somehow," Astoria said spearing a bite with her fork, "I don't think he likes me."
"Kreachers just a bit odd," Harry said gesturing to the peeling wallpaper and ancient dusty furniture that littered the kitchen. "It's part of the charm." Astoria grinned.
"Frankly I expected a bit more grandeur from the chosen one." Harry huffed.
"I had a house, I took it."
"Naturally," Astoria said, taking a sip of the tea Kreacher had left out. "I also thought you would be one of those 'freedom for the elves' types." Harry shrugged.
"I might be, but if I freed Kreacher-" he shuddered. "Let's just say I wouldn't put murder past him." Astoria laughed pouring herself a bit of cream and pulling off her thin Navy sweater, no longer stained with ice cream (she'd performed a rather impressive scourgify on the two of them).
"So Weasley and Pansy," She said, propping her chin up on her elbow. "I'll admit I haven't suffered a rant that intense since the great haircut scandal of 1996." Harry grinned.
"If you think she topped Ron I have serious reservations about your sanity." She laughed again, and Harry was reminded of the strong contrast it held to her tinkly voice.
"Ah, but my story involves an array of readily available Greengrass heirlooms, most of which are both highly breakable and irreplaceable." Harry held up his hands in submission.
"What about Ginny and Nott? I haven't heard from her all day." Astoria shook her head.
"I've no idea. Theo muttered something about a potion for bat bogeys and then apparated off the who knows where." Harry winced at the thought of that particularly potent hex, remembering the time slughorn had recruited her to his elite club of talented and connected students purely for its impressive display.
"Poor bloke," he said shaking his head. "Though he's probably better off than Malfoy-I've no idea what Hermiones doing in her bedroom but it definitely involves explosives." Astoria shook her head bemusedly.
"If there's anyone you should be feeling sorry for it's Blaise-hasn't come out of the library since he met with Lovegood, he's buried himself in disproving something called a Snorkack." Harry snorted.
"Never going to work with Luna. I doubt she'd stop believing if you put her in Azkaban." Astoria took another bite of her lunch.
"I never understood where she got it from. Is she just a bit loopy?" Harry felt his eyes soften at the statement, and he looked down at his lap.
"Luna lost her mum when she was nine. I don't think she was ever really right afterwards-she didn't like to talk about, but she could see the thestrals when we, erm, raided the ministry of magic." Astoria's eyes had narrowed with genuine concern.
"I never realized."
"Luna's not one for attention-at the very least she doesn't want to be pitied." Harry said trying to sound comforting. "You couldn't have known." Astoria nodded half-heartedly, taking a quiet sip of her tea.
"Pansy's not so bad you know," she said suddenly. Harry started, as the statement seemed a bit out of the blue. Harry didn't want to seem rude, but at the mention of Parkinson dozens of memories flashed before his mind, none of them particularly pleasant. "She wasn't always-the way she is." Astoria said quickly, like she was afraid she wouldn't be able to get all the words out. "She had this sister, about ten years older than us who she adored. When Pansy was nine, her sister, Yvette, eloped with this muggle man who lived in the little town nearby-it turned out they'd been meeting together for ages. Pansy's parents, they said Yvette was a traitor, but secretly Pansy missed her awfully. I remember it, she would always cry herself to sleep when she came to our house. Anyway when Pansy was ten she hopped this trolley into town to find Yvette while her parents were at a Ministry dinner-and when she found the address, she saw her sister through the window arguing with this guy, Paul or something. And then he freaked out and hit her really hard across the cheek. And Yvette was crying and when she pulled her wand out of her sleeve the guy pulled out a gun-" Astoria gulped. "Yvette said she didn't want to hurt him, that she still loved him, and when she raised her hands to-I don't know, surrender, Paul thought she was going to cast some sort of spell. I guess he got scared...but he fired and when he saw what he'd done-he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger."
Harry had gone white as a sheet. He didn't know why Astoria was telling him this, put she was still talking like she had to get the words out of her mouth. "Pansy, Pansy didn't tell her parents, I don't know if they ever knew. But-she was raised to think muggles were filth and when she saw what Paul did, I don't think she ever forgave him. Harry that's why she hate muggles-not some stupid pureblood stereotype and I just had to..." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I've never told anyone that, you just sort of...reminded me." Harry felt a single tear rising in his eye. It seemed weird that she would tell him, not one of the Slytherins she knew so well for so many years. But he felt like he could trust her, and the story had shaken him to say the least.
"I had nightmares for weeks," Astoria said slowly. "After she told me in third year. I had confronted her about calling that Granger girl-you're friend-a mudblood. I told her it was stupid, so she told me the story." She sighed. "I shouldn't be telling you this, you probably think I'm crazy, but I trust you. I don't know why. Maybe because you're a Gryffindor and I know you haven't got it in you to manipulate me."
Harry smiled at the weak joke. "You know I grew up with muggles." Harry said, before he could stop himself. "My mom's sister Petunia." Astoria reddened.
"I didn't mean to-your family-"
"Don't worry about it." Harry said, his expression darkening. "We didn't exactly have a fond relationship."
"The cooking," Astoria said, frowning. "You made me pasta."
"I've been able to cook since I was six," he said with a dark smile. "Aunt Petunia figured if I was going to ruin her perfect life I might as well work for it." He glanced up at the blonde. "The Weasleys were the first real family I ever had." He expected Astoria to look surprised-the chosen one not worshiped by his relatives? Or possibly a bit sympathetic of his twisted childhood but she just frowned.
"I always wondered about that. Why the Weasley's, you could had nearly anyone on the train as a friend." Harry thought about that for a moment, remembering that day on the platform, lost and alone and eleven in a world that was not his own.
"Because they were willing to help the poor little muggle boy who couldn't figure out how to get to the platform, rather than the 'famous Harry Potter'. Molly Weasley, putting seven children through the most prestigious wizarding school in Britain on barely enough money for one, and she wasn't the least bit impatient." He sighed remembering how nervous he'd felt, sitting completely alone on a train full of strangers, watching the first proper family he'd ever seen like someone might whip them out of his sight at any second. "And Ron was the first person who ever wanted to share anything with me, first person who seemed like just as much of an outcast as I was-a pureblood who didn't act on it you know? We've sort of been best mates since we met."
"What'd you mean the first?" Astoria asked frowning. Harry shrugged.
"My cousin was kind of the school bully, he had this game called Harry-hunting-" he shuddered. "The kid's at my primary school stayed away from me if they knew what was good for them." Astoria smashed her fist against the table, which nearly made Harry jump.
"I hate bullies. Millicent Bulstrode always used to pick on me at school. Even after I got to know Blaise and Draco I'd always tell them when they were being idiots," She grinned. "They usually didn't listen, but I felt like I made an effort." Harry smiled weakly.
"I think we treaded into kind of deep territory for a second meeting don't you think," he said, and Astoria laughed.
"It was nice, being real with someone who I haven't known since I was eleven." Harry joined in.
"I guess that's the trial of living with five people for seven years," he said thinking of his old Gryffindor dorm mates and how they must be dealing with this law. "Though honestly it was always kind of me Ron and Hermione against the world." Astoria grinned.
"We all wondered what you talked about, all huddled up at one end of the gryffindor table for seven years. I think it drove Draco a bit mad." Harry lifted his teacup raising it towards the blonde, who followed suit.
"That's all we ever wanted to do." The clinked their cups, and Harry slumped back into his chair, feeling oddly like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't warmed to someone so quickly since first year, but it was as though him and Astoria just sort of clicked. He couldn't explain it, but he wished he'd known her sooner. For the first time he cursed the way the houses of Hogwarts were separated, the Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry that had always come so naturally.
"I always wondered why we all had to hate each other," Astoria said, as if she had read his thoughts. "It sort of felt right at the time, but looking back on it all seems terribly stupid." Harry nodded.
"I could've done with a bit of insider information on the whole quest-to-save-all-wizard-kind bit of my life," he said trying to sound pondering. "Don't get me wrong I love a good reveal but I wouldn't have minded a few less of them..." Astoria rolled her eyes and took a final swig of her tea.
"I suppose in national terrorism predictability is to be aspired to," she said with a dramatic sigh. "But everything would be dreadfully boring without a few plot twists."
"Of course," Harry said, trying not to laugh at her solemn expression. "If we're denied the entertainment of it all what's the point, actual integrity?" He snorted. "Why would anyone bother with that?"
They both burst out laughing.
By the time they'd finished Kreacher had come flying in, still wielding Harry's sweatshirt, under the pretense that they were being tortured. Talking through his laughter Harry finally managed to explain that they were perfectly alright, though he could have sworn the elf muttered something about "master Harry losing his sanity properly this time" before he retreated into the confines of the manor.
"So," Harry said, clutching his stomach. "I've told you about my family-how about these elusive Greengrasses?"
"You sound like you're expecting something exciting," Astoria said, undoing the remainder of her braid and tying her long blonde hair at the nape of her neck. "I'd love to tell you they were American spies serving a great purpose to the order-of-the-odd-something-or-other but their really dreadfully ordinary." Harry looked at his hands, counting off on his fingers.
"Well we've ruled out crazed pureblood activists and American spies, but I'm afraid that's still a rather broad category."
Astoria shrugged. "My parents married young, 18, and neither of there families approved. The wedding was only friends, and my mum who was a Burke, was disowned. My dad got the Greengrass title though, probably because there was no one else to take it. My sister Daphne works at st. Mungos, we had a few rows, but usually we got along." She shrugged half heartedly. "There really isn't much more to tell." Harry smiled wistfully at the thought of having a mother and a father and a sister-a family. It was something he hadn't thought of properly in a while, not since the night in the forest when he'd seen his parents for the last time.
"You don't know how lucky you are," he said, noticing Astoria staring at him. She looked vaguely uncomfortable, and Harry blushed awkwardly.
Astoria glanced down at her watch and jumped. "Bloody hell I'm late," She said, nearly sending her teacup flying as she jumped to her feet. "I told my mum half and hour." Harry glanced at the clock on the mantle with wide eyes, it was nearly four.
"Time flies," he muttered, ignoring the blonde's confused expression at the muggle saying. He stood, and walked towards the door. "I'll show you out, the house has a few," Harry winced. "Complications."
Astoria smiled. "I've heard."
If you liked it or if you didn't, please review! Thanks for reading.