CHAPTER 9: Nightmares.
Elizabeth Greengrass was never very affectionate. She was not the type of woman who can forget about manners and play with her children as if she was one of them. She was a high society heiress, not a nanny. Growing up, Daphne did not have many problems with her, since she was the exact copy of what Elizabeth had once been. Her mother took pleasure in modelling her to become a perfect socialite. However, Astoria wasn't as lucky as her sister: being less attractive, she was supposed to make up for it by acquiring exquisite manners and landing a rich husband who would want to pass for a philanthropic benefactor. That was not the case, and she started behaving as a boy the second she started walking. Elizabeth's disappointment was no secret; neither was her husband William's. Neither of them had a good relationship with Astoria, and focused all of their efforts on Daphne, giving up on the younger girl. Astoria pretended to stop caring about this when she was ten. As thirteen, she found out she had been fooling herself.
It was Daphne's fourteenth birthday, and Astoria, annoyed that no one would pay attention to her and all eyes were set on her sister and her beautiful crème-coloured dress, left the party and went upstairs, to her room. She soon found out someone had been paying attention to her, and she wished otherwise the second her uncle Philip closed the door behind him. She only screamed once; but downstairs, Daphne had just blown the fourteen candles on her cake and the sound of clapping suffocated the only chance Astoria had to get any help.
Once the party was over and all the guests were gone, Astoria tried to explain, between sobs, what had happened. Elizabeth and William listened in silence after telling Daphne to go to her room. They did not react until Astoria pulled down her turtleneck's collar to reveal the already-forming bruises around her scrawny neck. In that precise moment, her father shot up and slapped her hard with the back of his hand. His wedding ring busted Astoria's lip. Out of shock, she didn't say anything else. The only thing she heard her father say was:
-Make sure you wear turtlenecks until the bruises fade away. And stay away from my brother.
Blood dripped from her face onto her chest. She felt the fabric dampen against her skin and tried to say something but she couldn't articulate a single word. She looked at her mother, but the green eyes escaped the contact.
-Go wash yourself –she heard her say.
That night, Astoria positioned herself in front of her mirror with a sharp pair of scissors and cut her blond wavy hair short. She left the fringe as it was and cut out the rest. Once she was done, she threw the locks of hair in the toilet and flushed, without any remorse. Nobody said anything when they saw her the next morning, although her father looked ready to smack her again. When she got the chance to, she performed a spell to change her hair colour: it became jet black, much to her mother's dismay. No matter how much she tried to convince her to change it back to blond, how many times she casted a spell herself, Astoria would always turn it black. When Elizabeth threatened to shave it all off her head, Astoria laughed in her face. In that moment, the woman realized her daughter was gone. Completely. Not that she had ever had much interest in her, but it was nonetheless excruciating to see someone taint the family name like that. In a matter of months, Astoria had her lip pierced for the first time, and she was therefore excluded from any social event. From that moment on, she fell in a spiral of self-destruction that no one really tried to stop. Daphne never knew the reasons why her sister became her exact nemesis. It was too late already, and they had grown apart too long ago.
Uncle Philip's eyes had been green. Just like most of the Greengrass members'. Except for hers. Maybe that was the way nature had of apologizing for putting her into such a dysfunctional family. She woke up early, wrapped in damp sheets. Her cold sweat stuck to her and she decided a warm shower was the correct course of action. Before getting dressed, she observed herself in the bathroom mirror, and contorted so she could get a view of her back dragon tattoo from different angles. It was awesome. She smiled at the sight of it, feeling a little bit calmer after her nightmares. At breakfast, she looked around for her friends and waved hello at Luna and Helena, who were already sitting at the Ravenclaw table. When she got to the Slytherin table, her sister glared at her as a way of saying hi. Astoria rolled her eyes back and said hello to Pansy. She was, inexplicably, the only Slytherin girl she could more or less tolerate. Pansy smiled at her and Astoria wondered if she should sit by her side. But then she saw Blaise sitting at the end of the table, all by himself, and she decided to go sit with him. The guy looked tattered.
-Hey, Blaise. You alright? –she asked.
He didn't answer, just nodded. She started biting on one of her nails as she observed him. He didn't look back at her.
-If you want me to go, I'll go –she said.
-No, it's fine –he gave her a horribly forced smile-. I'm fine.
-You sure about that?
A sad smile spread across Blaise's features as he nodded once more. Astoria was not the brightest witch of her generation (the title was reserved for Granger), but she was definitely not stupid, and she could tell something was going on with Blaise and Draco. She just didn't know if she wanted to know any further details.
-I know what you're thinking.
-Do you?
-Yes. And the answers are: no, we're not together; no, he's not gay; no, I'm not gay.
-Then the problem is…? –she served herself a pile of pancakes and started munching compulsively.
He watched her eat in silence, leaving her question lingering in the air. His face resting against his closed fist, he couldn't help but smile.
-You eat a fucking lot.
-What's your point? –she said, although, with her mouth full, she sort of pronounced it like 'wasyopong?'.
-I bet your sister hates you for staying so skinny eating this much.
-My sister hates me for many reasons, mate –she swallowed-. So, where's he?
-He didn't feel so hot. McGonagall excused him for today.
-I guess he had a good reason to feel sick –she shrugged-. That must be awful.
-Thanks for staying with him last night.
-No worries.
-I'm sorry I ran away like that.
-It's alright, we had a couple laughs.
-Yeah, he's a party animal –he said, sarcastically.
-So, can I ask you something? –Astoria was careful.
-Shoot –Blaise already knew what was coming.
-What's going on between you two? I believe you when you say you're not gay because you have fucked more chicks than Gene Simmons.
Blaise laughed, although he didn't know who that Simmons guy was. A sigh escaped his lips. He guessed he could trust Astoria, alright. Not like she had many friends to talk about this.
-Promise me nobody will hear a word of this.
-Done –she nodded.
-How to begin? –he exhaled heavily, as if he was exhausted- I don't like guys. Okay? I don't feel attracted to men, whatsoever. I like women.
-I get the point –she said, sarcastically.
-But…
-It's different with Draco, isn't it? –she lowered her voice.
-Yes. Ever since we were kids. I really don't know how to explain, Astoria. You must think I'm sick.
-Do I look like the kind of person who judges others by their sexuality? –she snorted.
-That's the problem, though! I'm not gay. At all. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me.
-Are you sure you're not just confusing friendship with…?
-No. I'm positive this is different. And the worst part is that Draco is fully conscious of this.
-Yeah, I kind of got the vibe.
-And I feel bad because I know he feels bad, because he needs me to be there and I try, but… I want to be his friend, but it's killing me.
-And you've never talked about this with him?
-There's no need to. He knows what's going on.
-What if he felt something similar? –she tried to reason, but was too confused.
Blaise shook his head and she desisted from asking any more questions. What she had been told was disconcerting enough. All of her suspicions from last night had been confirmed: okay, they weren't gay but their relationship was not 'usual'.
-I need to ask you a favour, Astoria.
-What is it?
-And I need you to do it.
-Sure, mate.
-If one day I cannot take it anymore, please, promise me you won't leave him alone.
-What do you mean, if you can't take it anymore? –her eyes widened.
-I'm not as strong-minded as he is. And I get the feeling you're the same type. One day I might be too selfish and get away from him.
-Why do you think that? –she frowned, suddenly concerned about Blaise.
-He needs me. But it hurts too fucking much.
-Blaise…
-I'm not saying this day will come. Maybe it will never come. But, just in case.
-You have my word.
-Good –he took a sip of his juice-. Jesus Christ, how can human minds be so fucked up?
-Ignoramos et ignorabimus (A.N. we ignore it and we will ignore it) –she grinned.
-Yeah, well… -he shrugged- Whatever you just said.
Astoria smiled at him and then realized what she had just done. Blaise had never been one of her closest people. To say he was just someone she knew was more accurate, and in a matter of weeks they had achieved the status of intimate friends, him telling her about all that mess in his head. She knew he would eventually lead her to trouble, mostly including Malfoy, but when she met his chocolate-coloured eyes and sensed the warm gratitude in them, she tossed all doubts aside. 'Alea Iacta Est' was the only thing she was able to think.
