(I curse people for making up names still I do it myself. As for now it is part one of this chapter. Bon appetit!)
Astoria was sitting at the dressing table, studying her reflection carefully in the old mirror, the central part of the furniture. The old wooden table with her family's arms etched at the top of the mirror's frame — embellished with the pattern of poison ivy's branches — once belonged to her great-grandmother who was given it as a present by her husband once they got married. Astoria had an exceptional weakness for this dressing table so when her father gave it to her on her sixteenth birthday, she almost sinked into oblivion that he missed the celebration, being away in business.
She sat straight, with her chin slightly pulled out — so the neck would seem thinner — and hands resting on her lap, as she was taught a proper lady should do. She smirked to herself at those words. She was far from being a proper lady with that peculiar shadow her gaze would've gained the night before, merging mockery with defiance and vanity. Her appearance was the undeniable proof of the latest events and Astoria intended to remember every detail of that look, from the shadow's under her eyes caused by the lack of sleep to the lips, puffy from the impatient kisses. Her aristocratic features, emphasized by the vain look in her eyes were creating some inquisitive contrast with the disheveled curls and the impression of pillow on her right cheek.
She felt differently, adult and tempting… She opened her mouth a little and licked her lips slowly, gaze fixed on her tongue, wandering through the vestige of the burgundy lipstick on her lips. She studied carefully her reflection as she brushed her hair with fingers carelessly, moving it from one side to another. There was something trashy yet sensual about the way she looked like, with her hair in disarray and the stains of mascara under her eyes. Something savage and unbridled, and this thought alone made her mouth purse in a self-satisfied smirk.
We live not only in a world of thoughts, but also in a world of things. Words without experience are meaningless she remembered, exploring the marks left on her neck and cleavage, touching every single one with her forefinger. She was slowly moving her finger from one lovebite to another, drawing an invisible line that imitated the track of Draco Malfoy's lips. She wandered farer, down the chest, between her breasts, reaching the nipples. All this time studying how her expression was changing under her own touch, the upper lip raising a little, the incisors biting into the lower one.
Suddenly, she heard somebody knocking on the door. Quickly, she moved out the hand from under her petticoat and heard her mother's voice:
"Tori darling, are you ready yet? Your sister has already left."
"I need to dress up" cried Astoria through the door, standing up from the dressing table, glancing at her reflection for the last time, some shadow of disappointment in her eyes.
"Hurry up. You don't want to let her down, do you?"
No, she didn't. As her mother's steps on the corridor quietened, Astoria entered the bathroom, thinking of the reason why Isobel Greengrass* seemed to be so concerned about the wedding. Even though her unfounded solicitude of each detail was forced and insincere, she seemed more involved in planning the ceremony than both bride and groom. Astoria couldn't help the feeling her mother was putting up a show only so her husband would see, she was treating Daphne as her own child.
Astoria bit her lip and switched on the water. She sat on the corner of the bathtub and came back to studying her reflection in the mirror. Having inherited most of the Fairfax's features — from slightly upturned nose to a specific smile that was the perfect combination of sweetness and defiance — she was a picture perfect of her mother. If not her emerald green eyes and the undeniable musicality, nobody would suspect her of being related to the famous Astraeus Greengrass**, the only wizard violinist in three decades to have been on a tournée in both North and South America. A bitter smile flitted across her face. Fortunately, there was also something good she would have taken after her ancestors.
She took off her lingerie before slipping into the bath filled with warm water that was pinching her skin pleasantly. She plunged in her head and kept it under the water until she would start choking. Astoria would find this peculiar occupation utterly relaxing. Immersed, she could hear only the distorted sound of water, streaming down from the tap, that was loud enough to drown out her thoughts altogether. It was one of the few ways she knew, were making her less distressed with herself and lately, Astoria was wondering if drowning herself would mean reaching the absolute peace of mind. Unfortunately, her each attempt to check it ended unsuccessfully because of the natural sense of survival that was ordering her to catch breath each time she would start to drift away. Seeing the constant fight between a body that wanted to live and a brain that wanted to die was making her feel somehow schizophrenic.
Once again, Astoria raised her head out of the water and caught air greedily. Not today she thought. There were appointments to be done.
Due to late hour, when Astoria reached the dining room — puffy lips and marks hidden under the clothing being the only remains of earlier actions — it was empty. The table was set for one person although the amount of food was enough to please the whole family, what only showed the unfounded profligacy of the Greengrass' that continued despite their rather difficult financial conditions. Lately, they've started rewarding themselves their social fall from grace (adequate to most of the pureblood families) with the sumptuous lifestyle, despite not being able to afford it. All of the Greengrass' valued conveniences but to their biggest misfortune, they weren't fluent in accountancy.
Astoria looked around and spotted a saucer, hidden behind the dish with bread. On it, they were lying three different phials, each one containing a colorless liquid. Next to the plate there was a little card, filled with her mother's fine handwriting:
Don't forget about your potions, Tori.
She sighed quietly before reaching for the saucer. Overprotection was Isobel Greengrass' second name when it came to her daughter. It seemed her excessive care and attention dedicated to Astoria were her way of compensating her offspring not being the favorite daughter that Isobel believed she deserved to be. Both, Astoria and Daphne were loved and spoiled by their father but it was clear for anyone who would see them together that it was Daphne who was the apple of Perses Greengrass'*** eye. This special affection, inaccessible for Astoria was often the reason for her tears back then when she was a child. Now, she was almost completely indifferent to this inequity, accustomed to being the other one. However, her mother didn't approve of this Appeasement and continued the cold war, using her daughter's disease as an ultimate weapon against the Greengrass'. They could blame Isobel for passing her looks on to Astoria but it were them who were responsible for her health condition. And this awareness alone was making Isobel Greengrass feel above her husband's family and was giving her an improper satisfaction.
Astoria opened the first phial and drank its content, grimacing with disgust as she felt the bitterness on her tongue. She repeated the action with another two phials and then immediately downed it with a croissant, grabbed from the dish with bread.
It wasn't before she has arrived in France that she started having sweet breakfasts. When she came to Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons last autumn, she missed a proper English breakfast — the one with scrambled eggs and bacon — more than her family. However, now she found it hard to switch back to the old habits and was reaching automatically for pain perdu instead of rolls. The older Astoria was, the more of the Greengrass' traits she was discovering in herself and the sweet tooth was one of them. With a shadow of a bitter smile on her lips, covered in strawberry jam, she thought she would be much luckier if she had the Greengrass' looks if anything.
She put three sugar cubes into her tea and drank it, tasting strawberry in her mouth.
Daphne Greengrass shook her head in disapproval, pouting. The shop assistant bit her lip and turned back to the hangers once again. She could be the same age as her stepmother and Daphne believed it was the reason why this red headed woman with a permanent tired expression, kept showing her the traditional long dresses with corsets and flounces. Isobel Greengrass was delighted but lately, so she was with everything what concerned her stepdaughter's wedding and Daphne stopped taking into account her opinions. She let Isobel walk around with the shop assistant, looking for a particular dress while she herself was sitting idle and occasionally shook her head when the women were showing her anything. Her honey blonde hair would slip from her shoulders each time she would do it, showing the golden necklace with tiny laurel leaf that she would never be parted from.
When the door bell rang, Daphne raised her head automatically to see who has come. Suddenly, her face turned gloomy.
"Finally" she said in scolding tone when her sister approached. Astoria glanced at her mother and only when she made sure Isobel Greengrass wasn't around, she replied:
"Sorry, it's been a tough night."
She sat on the white leather couch next to her sister and picked one of the bridal gowns catalogues from the coffee table in front of them. She opened it on a random page and pretended to study the wedding bouquets, so she wouldn't have to look Daphne in the eyes.
"Surely" murmured her sister with a false smile; it wasn't hard to tell she was thrown off balance. "Will you tell me where the hell have you been last night? And, avant tout with who?" she hissed through clenched teeth, playing nervously with her necklace.
"Don't do that or you will break it" Astoria warned her, pointing at the golden laurel although secretly, she wished it would get irreversibly destroyed. This goblin-made necklace was a thorn in Astoria's side and sometimes she thought it was the reason why Daphne would never take it off.
Astoria had the same necklace but with a star as befitted the goddess of falling stars and nocturnal oracles. Accept it wasn't who she was named after.
It was commonly known that old pureblood wizarding families had traditions in naming their offspring after sublime people, matters or occurrences. In case of the well known, most respected family that were the Blacks, it were the star constellations on which depended the child's name. In case of the Greengrass family, it were the characters from mythology, especially the Titans.
However, when Isobel Fairfax Greengrass gave birth on an exceptionally cold March morning of 1982, her husband couldn't hide his disappointment. With his teeth clenched and the sign of helpless tears in the corner of his eye, he brushed his wife's forehead with his lips, saying you may name her. Isobel, the American-born heiress of a landlord, decided to mark her baby's origins and so instead of naming it according to her husband's family tradition, she called her daughter after the New York based hotel known for being the property of the richest man to die on Titanic…
"Tell me or I'll tell Isobel" said Daphne, letting go of the necklace.
"Seriously? You're sabotaging me?"
"That's how you treat children."
Astoria breathed out heavily, feeling her cheeks crimson from humiliation. She got up from the couch immediately, throwing the catalogue back on the coffee table angrily. It hit the rest of bridal fashion magazines, set one on another and caused them fall to the ground but Daphne ignored that while hissing:
"Sit down, Astoria. Now."
Her voice was so commanding, Astoria obeyed.
"I didn't take you with me to spend the whole night searching for you" continued Daphne, squinting her eyes dangerously. "Where were you?"
"With a guy" replied Astoria insolently. "Don't give me that look, you've been doing it many times."
"Yes, but with the same man" replied Daphne bitterly.
Before Astoria could answer, they were joined by her mother and the red headed shop assistant, carrying something white and flouncy in her hands.
"Tori darling, you're here" said Isobel, smiling. "Maybe you will convince your sister to try anything out. She's completely unwilling to cooperation today" she continued, looking at her stepdaughter with mocked pity.
Daphne raised an eyebrow in doubt and stood up from the couch. She reached the shop assistant and took the wedding gown from her hands.
"I didn't want Tori to miss the whole fun" she said before turning to the fitting rooms along with the red headed woman who insisted on helping her with putting on the gown.
"Did you take your potions, Tori?" asked Isobel when the two disappeared in the next room. She sat down next to her daughter and frowned lightly at the catalogues scattered around the coffee table. "Choosing the wedding gown aroused similar feelings in me…" she muttered to herself.
"I did" replied Astoria at the question she was addressed, watching her mother taking out her wand from the small clutch she was holding.
"Then, I don't think they work properly. You're pale as death. Are you feeling well, darling?" she asked uneasy, cleaning up the mess Astoria has made with a single motion of her wand. "I'm worried" she added, looking at her daughter with concern.
"I'm fine, mom" cut Astoria. "I haven't slept much, that's all."
"I know your attitude towards this subject, Tori but your aunt owled me lately" Astoria rolled her eyes, knowing the exact words that would occur now. "There is a healer in New York who…"
"Shall we not talk about it here, please?" she asked, trying to maintain the proper tone although each following word that would come out of her mother's mouth made her more frustrated.
"He says there are potions…"
"No!" cried Astoria, her voice sounding hysterical. "I mean…" she added, feeling she has crossed the line. "We both know it's pointless."
She said it with her eyes fixed on the tip of her pumps, avoiding her mother's gaze.
Over the years Perses and Isobel Greengrass were searching for a healer who would find a way to treat their daughter but without any further success. There would occur frauds who ensured them they knew the same cases and know how to cure them but sooner or later those healers would disappear with considerable amount of money Perses would have given them. Until now her father lost the sum of money that corresponded to the one third of Astoria's dowry and — although he would never admit it — it was the reason why he has became less eager to continue searching for panacea lately. The ugly truth was, the chances for marriage increased along with the amount of coins in bride's chest, no matter what was her health condition.
"Oh, darling…" whispered Isobel, lying her hand on Astoria's shoulder. "I think we shouldn't give up. If…" she started but was interrupted immediately.
"If what, mum?" hissed Astoria, forcing a sarcastic smile. She could feel her chin quiver. "We all know I am not destined for…" she took a deep breath, holding back the tears "…life."
"Tori…" Isobel bit her lip, thinking of a possible response but then they heard Daphne's voice from behind the wall. She entered the room, wearing a snow white wedding gown. It was a simple Edwardian style dress with a delicate flower pattern embroidered with a silver thread. The cleavage was all covered with something that reminded a shawl but what was nearly transparent, exposing the laurel necklace on Daphne's neck.
"What do you think?" she asked, turning around. Her honey blonde hair raised slightly and fell back onto her shoulders. Astoria had to admit her sister looked beautiful and for a fracture of a second she wondered if she would look as alluring, wearing it…
"It fits you" said Isobel, moving her hand from Astoria's shoulder and standing up from the couch. She approached Daphne to have a closer look. "Lovely yet traditional. What do you think, Tori?" she asked, turning her gaze on her daughter.
"I thought you wanted the écru one" replied Astoria indifferently. There was no sign of an earlier emotion in her voice. "With the trail twice as long as the aisle and your mom's…"
"Sapphire earrings" they ended at the same time. "Yes, I did" admitted Daphne, nodding her head. It seemed as if she recalled the memory of their childhood and for a moment a little smile graced her face. Astoria remembered those times as well. The rainy days they would spend on the attic of their mansion, marrying porcelain dolls with stuffed animals and planning their own weddings. It seemed as if those events took place in a different life, back when they were truly sisters.
"Childish raving" summed up Daphne. "Your immaturity amuses me, Tori. Don't tell me you still want to leave the ceremony on a unicorn?" she laughed with a pitiful smile. Astoria rolled her eyes, holding herself back from a harsh reply.
"No, I don't" she said instead with a false smile. "But I don't think you should settle for anything. It's your wedding day, after all."
Daphne squinted her eyes dangerously.
"It's funny you are to one to talk about it. I thought picking out at random was your speciality."
Astoria shook her head in disbelief. She could feel her heart fastened and — from the challenging look on her sister's face — she knew Daphne was aware of it.
"What was that suppose to mean?" asked Isobel, frowning.
Astoria could swear her heart stopped for a second. She clenched her teeth, telling herself she is an independent adult and nobody has a right to judge her but the moment Daphne opened her mouth, her bravery vanished instantly.
"Nothing" she choked, glancing fearfully at her sister. Daphne had a victorious smile on her face. The moment Astoria spoke, she closed her mouth and pretended to look at herself in the mirror.
"I think I'll take it" she said, breaking the silence that occurred between Astoria and her mother.
"Good" murmured Isobel, nodding her head but with her eyes turned towards her daughter. She seemed outraged. "What is it about again?" she hissed, when Daphne disappeared in the fitting rooms along with the shop assistant who was still accompanying them.
"Nothing" repeated Astoria indifferently.
"I'm not blind, Astoria" said Isobel seriously. She never addressed her daughter with the full name unless she was angry with her. "Tell me immediately or…"
"Or what!?" cried Astoria, disbelief in her eyes. "You will ground me?" she laughed hysterically. "You all seem to have forgotten but I'm an adult now and I would appreciate if you started treating me like one" she said with passion.
Seeing her mother's distressed expression, she took a deep breath and continued:
"I'm not blind or deaf. I see things, mom. I know the purpose of this marriage." At this particular word Isobel stiffened. "Don't look horrid, you agreed on it too" said Astoria and it seemed her mother's embarrassment pleased her.
"Astoria…" murmured Isobel with her eyes down.
"The Notts are broke" continued Astoria, ignoring her. "Or should I say the Nott?" she smiled bitterly. "The trial left him ruined and an orphan. With faint means, his only virtue left is his blood status so he decided to get married, hoping for a considerable dowry of his bride."
Isobel Greengrass sighed but didn't raise her gaze from her hands. She played nervously with the rings of her left hand, avoiding facing her daughter.
"Dad isn't a foolish man, he knew" said Astoria after a moment of silence. "But each day chances for the proper marriages of his daughters fade so he agreed, he gave away his precious little girl" she couldn't stop herself from mimicking Perses Greengrass' words "to a fraud, for this is who Theodor Nott Junior is. And why? To keep the tradition of the society that is almost died out." She sighed quietly before adding. "It is sad that the members of the superior families share such a pitiful fate…"
"Still, getting married seems more optimistic vision than becoming an embittered old maid who count the days until her death, isn't it?" muttered Daphne, entering the room. She was wearing her regular short-sleeved dress girded with a belt on waist. She stood with her arms akimbo and a hard evil face. "If you're so scandalized by my wedding, don't bother coming" she said before turning to the cash desk, leaving Astoria disbelieving and Isobel, in a deep shock.
The following days were exceptionally quiet in the Dartford's mansion with the host gone in business in London and his daughters being at odds. The Greengrass sisters were ignoring each other entirely. The real cold war has became, Daphne being the communist USRR and Astoria, the democratic Eastern Block led by USA. The only difference being, there was no secret armaments race but the penetrating silence and dangerous glances.
As the wedding approached, Isobel Greengrass — in order to lighten her husband's (rather than her stepdaughter's) load — took care of the final preparations. The ceremony was supposed to take place in the garden of their mansion and end up inside the house with a formal dinner so the hostess was spending her days coursing between parlor and garden, giving instructions to the household and slowly losing her voice. As reasonable as it was, organizing the wedding in the Greengrass' mansion, taking under consideration the means of both families and their doubtful social position, both Isobel and her husband were feeling rather downcast about it. Especially the host, accustomed to the luxury he couldn't afford, was disappointed with the overwhelming modesty. It wasn't how he has imagined his precious little girl's wedding day.
For her husband's sake, Isobel decided to remain silent about the quarrel between his daughters. As the result, returning home hours before the wedding, Perses Greengrass' biggest worry was the dinner menu his wife has established; too humble selon lui.
It wasn't until the beginning of the ceremony when — waiting for his daughter — he saw maid of honour's face and understood something has happened during his absence. Hestia Carrow, with her thick eyebrows and suspicious expression was approaching him, holding a bouquet of white roses. But Perses Greengrass quickly forgot about maid of honour's identity when he saw his daughter, walking right behind her. Wearing the Edwardian style dress with a shawl on it, Daphne looked so beautiful, it left her father speechless.
Taking her by an arm, Perses Greengrass felt the enormous pride. For a moment, he forgot about the debts giving him sleepless nights and the circumstances accompanying the wedding together with its excessive simplicity. As the Mendelssohn's march was played, the dark clouds appeared on the horizon as if a warning but the melody drowned out his thoughts and Perses Greengrass walked slowly with his daughter by his side, believing people envied him. How nearsighted he was, considering this wedding his own victory over the new order…
It was Wednesday, 13th of July 1999 when Daphne Greengrass became the wife of Theodor Nott Junior.
"…I assumed a one night stand happens once."
"I see what you're doing but you can stop. I don't ask for sex."
"Certainly not while wearing these shoes…"
"Certainly…"
It seemed that in a blink of an eye a sultry but bright day has turned into an exceptionally rainy, cold evening. The storm was approaching as two young people stepped out of the shadiest pub in the area. The fair-haired man in a long-sleeved black shirt and the dark-haired woman, wearing her companion's jacket as her only protection from the rain.
The moment they disappeared in the darkness of the street, their hands were interlaced.
*Isobel Fairfax Greengrass (b. 1959) mother of Astoria and stepmother of Daphne.
**Astraeus Greengrass (1920—1988) paternal grandfather of Astoria and Daphne.
***Perses Greengrass (b. 1950) father of Astoria and Daphne, husband of Isobel Fairfax and the younger heir of Astraeus Greengrass.