Book 1: Astoria Greengrass and the Muggle-Born Slytherin
Song rec: "I Can See" by Gorgeous Bully
In the Great Hall, Astoria saw four groups that she could instantly identify. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor students all sat, segregated, at long tables beneath a stormy, enchanted ceiling. Astoria breathed heavily.
This is it, she thought. And here comes the song.
Daphne hadn't been joking when she told Astoria about the singing hat that had put her in Slytherin. The pointed brown hat, placed on a stool, opened its stitched mouth and sang. Astoria's attention was more on the vast beauty of the castle than the tune, but the end of the song caught her:-
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition
What if Pansy's prediction had been correct? Astoria was quite the hard-working girl, after all, and she could end up in Hufflepuff. It seemed like the more worried she was about getting Sorted into Hufflepuff, the harder it was to find Rhiannon in the crowd. But was Slytherin really the right answer?
Astoria could not rely on her family members' Houses to make a prediction. Her mother's side had all attended Beauxbatons Academy in France, and the cousins on her father's side were scattered throughout the Hogwarts houses. But there was no point in letting a bully's comment upset her on the first day. Even if Astoria was a Hufflepuff, she would find a way to show Pansy a piece of her mind. After all, there had to be some way to humiliate someone as awful as her. As Astoria was occupied with her scheming, the first-years were being sorted alphabetically. Before long, the "G's" were going up, and then "Greengrass, Astoria!" sounded through the Hall. Astoria heard a distinguishing "Whoo!" from Rhiannon. She had been sitting at the end of the Slytherin table — how had Astoria missed her? She turned to smile, but a stern-faced lady sat her down on the stool and pushed the Sorting Hat over her head. Astoria heard the hat's voice in a hushed tone say to her, "I see your father was a Ravenclaw."
Ravenclaw? Rhiannon wasn't in Ravenclaw…
"Hm! But you are not a Ravenclaw… no, no," said the hat to Astoria's relief. "You do not want to be in Hufflepuff, either? A hard-working girl such as you? Oh, I see… You only work hard because of your ambition, your desire… You wish to prove yourself. Perhaps too much."
Then silence.
"You're obviously a S—"
Don't decide to put me in there because I'm a pure-blood, Astoria interrupted the hat with her thoughts. As much as she liked Rhiannon, she could not guarantee that her friendship with her would require being in a House full of bullies.
"Pure-blood or not, you're definitely a SLYTHERIN!" The Sorting Hat called out the last word.
It was lifted off Astoria's head in a way that she did not want it to be. She fiddled with her sopping hair and walked over to the Slytherin table. Everyone there was clapping except Pansy, though most of the applause was routine. After greeting her older cousins, Ansel and Erez, at the table, Astoria sat down in the large, empty space between Rhiannon and Draco. She knew why the spot was empty — a disproportionate amount of Slytherins didn't want to sit next to a Muggle-born.
"Way to go!" said Rhiannon. "A pure-blood with a bit of a bite! Of course you'd be in Slytherin!"
"Well, the hat said that I was a Slytherin even if he disregarded my bloodline."
"That's what he said to me, too!" exclaimed Rhiannon. "You know, the 'disregard' part. Not like I have a family history." Only a moment later she said, "Plates are for food!"
Astoria was using her golden plate as a mirror to fix her hair.
"Oh, here," sighed Rhiannon.
She pulled an extra hair tie off her wrist and handed it to Astoria. She probably thought Astoria was vain.
"I need a picture of this!" said Daphne, who had managed to appear behind Astoria's seat without magic. "I have to give you credit, Mu— Rhiannon, you're the only one to get her to do something unstylish with her hair!"
"'Sat right?" said Rhiannon indifferently, twisting her own ponytail round her fingers.
Daphne saw that Pansy had given her a disapproving look, so she went back to her seat without another word. Astoria could hardly believe that her sister was so fickle. She could hardly even look at her after her alarming behaviour that day, and focused on the ceremony. Kevin Whitby was the last one to be Sorted, and the golden plates punctually filled with food.
"Aren'tcha gonna eat?" asked Rhiannon.
Astoria faced forward again. She did not like being able to see Pansy, Draco, and Daphne out of the corner of her eye, but her attention was diverted to a ghost hovering over the table who was dressed like a nobleman. Of course, noblemen usually don't have blood smeared all over their coats.
"That's the Bloody Baron. He's our House's ghost," Rhiannon explained helpfully. "Might as well get used to him. He's not freshening up anytime soon."
Astoria had seen only one ghost before, the one who roamed Quennell Park. Here at Hogwarts, she was surrounded by ghosts. She expected a sharp decrease in temperature and that curious feeling in her gut. Somehow, though, twenty ghosts did not have quite the same effect the ghost in her woods did. It made her strangely homesick. Of all the silly things to make her homesick on the first night, the aura of the ghosts…
Rhiannon was trying to catch Astoria's eye again before she zoned completely out. It was a compliment to be the centre of Rhiannon's attention. Astoria didn't think she had come across as an interesting person at all.
"We go to our common room after this. Do you know the password? Right now it's 'basilisk.'"
"Basilisk?" Astoria asked.
"Yup," mumbled Rhiannon, seeming to regret bringing it up already. "We had a bit of an issue with one a couple years ago; hungry bugger came right up from the depths of the school. Our common room's in the dungeons… Er, not same one where the basilisk was!"
Astoria was not sure if she was supposed to take Rhiannon seriously. It sounded like a scary story students told to newcomers. But if it was true…
Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, had every right to pull Astoria out of her own little world and begin speaking, but she really wished he hadn't done it the moment she was pondering the existence of monsters.
The Hall went silent immediately. Professor Dumbledore announced that there were four-hundred thirty-seven items forbidden in Hogwarts and that the students could check the list in the caretaker's office.
"Do we really need to?" whispered Astoria.
"Nah. It's a lot more convenient to get something taken away from you than to bother looking at that list," said Rhiannon, indicating that she had experience with the matter. Professor Dumbledore then said that the forest on the grounds was off-limits and that anyone below their third year could not take trips to Hogsmeade.
"Finally," sighed Rhiannon. "We can go this year. It's about time. I had to go into a war with my mum about the permission slip. In the end, I just got her to scribble on it when she was drunk."
When she was drunk? Astoria thought, trying to think if she had ever seen her parents intoxicated. She had not.
"It's also my painful duty to tell you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year," said the headmaster.
"Of course," said Draco, turning to Astoria suddenly. "You know why they cancelled Quidditch, don't you?"
Draco spoke to her as though they had been in conversation throughout the whole feast. Never mind the fact that he used the "M" word and that his girlfriend pushed her into the lake.
"No, how should I know why?"
"My father told me why. It's really a shame they had to cancel Quidditch; I'm the Seeker for the Slytherin team," he said haughtily.
The headmaster continued to talk, and Astoria missed most of what he said due to Draco.
"Do you like Quidditch?" he asked.
"I… Not particularly," muttered Astoria.
On either side of her, Rhiannon and Draco both looked stunned.
"You don't like Quidditch?" asked Rhiannon. "What's wrong with you?"
Astoria had never been asked such a question by anyone other than her sister. She took it as personally as Rhiannon took her not liking the sport. Maybe they didn't have such a good start anymore.
Draco added something Astoria didn't hear. Her attention had again been redirected. This time, it was to the old man who had barged in to the Hall like a rolling boulder. He was very wrinkly, had many scars and dents on his face, and had a grotesquely bulging eye that moved independently of the other. Nothing could be heard apart from the thunder clattering from the enchanted ceiling and a hollow clunk that sounded each time the man put his left foot down. The lightning flashing all over his warped visage seemed to annoy him, so he drew from his long cloak a pitted old twig (that turned out to be a wand) and used a grand Atmospheric Charm to clear the storm from the ceiling. A moment later, Professor Dumbledore introduced him as Professor Moody, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.
"Psssh," hissed Rhiannon dramatically. "He don't seem so great."
"What are you talking about?" asked Astoria, forcing her eyes off the unusual old teacher. "I thought that charm was really fantastic."
"What? No, I mean, this bloke's only here because Professor Lupin left. I didn't give a damn if he was a werewolf or not. You know, he had such an amazing class; my marks went up so much last year, and I understood all the material. He was a very brilliant professor," Rhiannon vented suddenly.
"Who's Professor Lupin?" Astoria interrupted. "A… werewolf?"
Rhiannon gave her a stern look.
"Yeah, but Professor Lupin was the best professor this school ever had, and I'm afraid you missed him by a year."
"That… is disappointing."
Trying to make a friend was like walking a tightrope. But a large group of students must have also felt a certain loyalty to the werewolf professor as well, for hardly anyone was clapping for Professor Moody. Moody did not seem to notice the students, for he was already being confronted at the staff table. A witch in pitch-black travelling garb had leaned forward to say, "Sir. Sir, are you licensed to use Atmospheric Charms?"
Professor Moody looked more than delighted to have stirred up some trouble.
"I am, miss," he grumbled before nodding proudly and saying, "but my license is long expired."
The nerve of the comment shook up the witch even more.
"Sir, under the Wizarding Astronomical and Meteorological Act of—"
"You will notice, dear," interrupted Professor Moody's voice as the similar-sounding thunder rumbled outside, "I only used it as a counter-charm on the ceiling."
Those within earshot looked outside the window to find the lightning still flashing.
"…Oh, of course," said the witch and returned unobtrusively to her dinner whilst Professor Moody impolitely took a massive gulp from a flask he had on his person.
Since she was striving to become an astronomer, Astoria was much more interested in the conversation about Atmospheric Charms than Professor Dumbledore's announcement that the Triwizard Tournament would take place that year. He actually said something about a death toll and continued explaining the policies of the Tournament, which included the rule that no one under seventeen could enter. The chatter in the Hall grew very excited, but Astoria couldn't share the enthusiasm. She wouldn't have entered something so dangerous even if she was of age, and the monetary prize for the winner would only be wealth on wealth to her family.
Shortly after his announcement, Professor Dumbledore instructed the students to go to their common rooms. Many students began to leave the Hall, but a dreary wizard from the staff table approached Astoria before she could. This gloomy professor had been sitting next to the witch who had confronted Professor Moody, but his name evaded Astoria. Her father had mentioned the names of all the professors, but who cared about something like that the week before seeing Hogwarts castle for the first time?
The professor was holding a sheet of parchment and a quill dutifully, and it could not be overemphasised that he was anything but cheery. He had oily, shoulder length black hair that fell against his thin face, black-brown eyes, and a large, hooked nose that completed his overbearing image.
"Astoria Greengrass," he addressed her in a voice coming directly through said nose. "You will need to choose your elective courses now."
He handed her the parchment and quill. It was a list of elective and extra-curricular courses with blank lines next to each of them, which she would need to mark with a tick. Astoria looked at the name of each course but noticed there were no course descriptions. The elective courses were Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies, and the Study of Ancient Runes. The extra-curricular courses included Art, Music, Ghoul Studies, Alchemy, and Apparition, the last of which was crossed out. Astoria put a tick next to Music, being skilled with the piano and organ, but was unsure about the required electives. The wizard who gave her the paper didn't look very patient, but she knew hardly anything about the electives.
"Would you please tell me what the electives are like?" she asked.
He did give a very heavy sigh, but described the classes nonetheless.
"In Arithmancy, you will study the magical properties of numbers and possibly be able to predict certain magical patterns with this knowledge. In Care of Magical Creatures, you learn to feed, breed, and care for various creatures… injurious or not. Divination is absurd, and I would not recommend that one of my students take it. In Ancient Runes, you learn the translations and interpretations of lexical and numerical hieroglyphics used by ancient wizards. I would hope Muggle Studies is entirely self-explanatory to you."
"Thank you," Astoria said, trying to remember his quote word-for-word. She ended up placing tick marks next to the Study of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, and she handed the paper back to him.
Astoria had to catch up to the Slytherin prefects, who took the students to the common room that Rhiannon had mentioned. Again, she had lost Rhiannon in the crowd and figured that was a sign she had said the wrong thing. She was left to appreciate her new environment alone.
The common room had pretty green lanterns and black leather couches. Most other furniture was unmistakably from the 1800s, with intricate designs carved into the wood. The floors were stone, and a few of the first-years stood stiffly at the top of the steps. Astoria could see why — it rather looked like a haunted house's parlour. She sat down on one of the black leather couches, which were not very comfortable. Draco Malfoy nonetheless seemed to think they made him look cool. Arriving on the scene, he leaned back on the couch she sat in, and put his feet on the ottoman in front of them. Astoria scooted away from him as far as she could, which was unfortunately only about six inches.
"I think I've figured you out," Draco said, pleased.
"Congratulations," said Astoria, not wanting to hear an explanation. Where had Rhiannon gone? And if Pansy saw Draco talking to Astoria again, she'd probably attack.
"You don't see anything wrong with anybody," he said, almost smirking, as though he solved a very puzzling mystery. "You're one of those 'see-the-good-in-people' types."
"I have yet to see the good in you," she said.
He raised an eyebrow.
"You're a narrow-minded snob who likes to pick on younger students with his terrible girlfriend," said Astoria, since his was a bridge she was not afraid to burn.
"Yeah? You're a bleeding heart who spends almost as much time trying to hold my hand and befriend a Muggle-born as you do on your hair," he replied complacently.
Astoria didn't like that comment. Astoria didn't like this whole situation. Draco Malfoy was not someone Astoria wanted to be sitting six inches from. That being said, Rhiannon Clarke was not someone Astoria wanted to be sitting under.
"Guess what!" said Rhiannon, after she had sat on both Astoria and Draco.
"What is it?" asked Astoria. "Where were you?"
Draco moved to the opposite side of the sofa in revulsion, which caused Rhiannon to plop between the two as she fell off their laps.
"I had to take some of me stuff to the music room. I also went and convinced Snape to change the dorm arrangements," said Rhiannon. She read from a piece of paper, "'New dormitory arrangements for Slytherin Room 106, girls' unit: Carrow, Flora. Carrow, Hestia. Clarke, Rhiannon. Greengrass, Astoria.' You're in my room!"
"Oh — thank you!" said Astoria, a flood of reassurance coming her way.
"How did you manage to do that, Clarke?" asked Draco. "Dorm arrangements stay the same."
"The girls I was with the last year two years didn't want to be in the same room as a Muggle-born again. Plus, Snape likes me well enough."
Draco scowled at Rhiannon and said, "I think you're missing a girl."
"About that," Rhiannon said to Astoria, "there's only four in this dorm. We have the small one. There are a few in every House, and I guess we're just lucky."
"Professor Snape likes you all right. He put you in a storage room!" Draco laughed.
Trying not to sound rude, Astoria enquired how lucky they were exactly.
"One less girl we have to deal with," said Rhiannon. "You ever have five girls to a bathroom?"
"Well, how small is the room?" asked Astoria.
"Er…" Rhiannon stalled. "We have to move the furniture to make it work. Still better than five girls. Trust me."
Astoria held back a groan. She wasn't used to small spaces, much less having to share them. But she knew this was coming one way or another.
"We'll figure out how to work with the space. I'm going to bed. You better go get your bags before you come. I already got mine," Rhiannon said, and promptly left Draco's presence.
Astoria had almost forgotten about her things. She fidgeted with her ponytail, longing for her hair potions, her own version of liquid confidence.
"You and I can agree on something, then," said Draco quietly.
"Oh, you don't like to wear hair ties, either?" Astoria mocked.
Draco rolled his eyes. "I meant that sharing a room after living like we do is a huge transition."
"I can manage with a small room," she said unconvincingly.
"I'm just saying that it's difficult. I always feel crammed in my dorm, and mine has room for five. My room at the manor could fit about four of these dorm rooms."
"I hope you aren't trying to impress me with that."
"I have better things to do than impress a little girl, you know."
"Do you really?"
Astoria stood up and started to the door. Her father had warned her about this type of behaviour, particularly when it came from other pure-blood families. The fact that these families couldn't call the Greengrasses cousins always seemed to get them excited in the wrong way. It was best not to dwell on it and end up with hurt feelings, Father said.
"You have no clue where your luggage is," said Draco. "It's usually in our rooms already, but your friend was so kind as to confuse those stupid house-elves with the dorm arrangements. You'll get lost trying to look for your bags."
Astoria didn't respond and walked out of the common room. She could ask a teacher where her luggage might be since Rhiannon changed the dorm arrangements. That was not what Draco had in mind, however, to Astoria's dismay. He was walking in front of her in the dark hall that echoed each of his words.
"If your Muggle-born there doesn't tell you something, you can always ask me. But I bet you're too proud to do that," he said, giving her a smug grin.
"You're unpleasant," she tried to get across.
"You're no cup of tea yourself."
"Did your parents make you talk to me?" Astoria asked watchfully.
"Ha! My parents thought you were a Squib."
Ah.
Draco acted like he was leading Astoria somewhere, but it would only take a few more turns in those dungeons before their memories would fail them and they would become lost.
"You've no idea where you're going. Why don't we go up toward the basement and see if my belongings are there? I feel like we're going downward."
"That is a very bright idea," said a macabre voice that Astoria did not recognise.
Draco quickly tightened the distance between him and Astoria. The owner of the voice was not visible.
"Who's speaking?" Astoria called.
Draco wiped his face in exasperation, indicating that Astoria should not have asked. Slowly, silver-blue specks appeared from nowhere and amalgamated until the image of the Bloody Baron became unwelcomingly clear.
"I am the Bloody Baron, the Ghost of the House of Slytherin."
"Oh, that's right," Astoria said, keeping her eyes on his face so as not to view the mess on his shirt. "Pleasure to meet you, Your Lordship. I am Astoria Greengrass."
"Your Lordship?" Draco whispered. "What's that guff about?"
"That guff, Mr Malfoy," the Bloody Baron boomed, "is that the young lady recognises which titles with which to address Peerage! I suppose your family never bothered to pass on that knowledge!"
Draco went stone-silent, and the Baron continued, "I saw three suitcases placed at the turn in the main corridor in the basement leading to the kitchens. These are what you are seeking. I was mindful to ban Peeves the Poltergeist from touching them, or else he would surely make a mess of things."
"That must be them. Thank you very much!" Astoria said and led Draco past the grisly ghost.
"Are those the only bags you brought?" Draco asked when they found her luggage.
"Yes," she said.
"Did you try to pack lightly?"
He knew she did. He didn't need to ask.
She picked up her bags and hobbled back down the corridors. She expected him to take a bag from her and carry it, though was unsure of whether to trust him when he did.
"You just handed me the heaviest one," Draco said teasingly.
"Those are my hair potions. Don't you drop that bag," she warned.
"'Those are my hair potions,'" Draco mimicked Astoria in a high voice, patting his head.
"Be careful, or it might fall out," she said.
"I guess your Muggle-born told you about that curse she tried to put on me, then. It didn't work."
"No, your hair was too pretty for a curse like that," Astoria mocked, but she was met with a warm laugh. "Hm, I didn't think you laughed unless you were teasing someone."
"I didn't think I did, either," Draco said.
Astoria tried — this time successfully — to avoid the smitten feeling that swept over her when she first saw Draco. But when they made it back to the common room, they were the only ones there, and she didn't like how much effort she was putting into finding something to say.
"Hope you can find your room. Rooms are numbered," Draco teased. "There's this horrible charm over the girls' dormitories to prevent us from going over there, so I can't help you."
"I'll be fine, thank you," said Astoria, taking her heavy bag from him. She shuffled over to the girls' corridors and started up the small flight of stairs. Not so much as a "good evening" came from Draco Malfoy upon their departure.