Book 1: Astoria Greengrass and the Muggle-Born Slytherin
Song rec: "Thunder Clatter" by Wild Cub
December made the cold more tolerable simply because of the month's wintry reputation. November, having a bleak but not quite snowy character, never compared to the spirited feeling of December. Professor Sinistra was not bothered by the snow, for she swept the sky round Hogwarts clear so that the students could see Aries from Astronomy Tower.
"Oh, there is Alpha Arietis!" said Professor Sinistra as though it was the very first time she had seen the star. "Alpha Arietis is the brightest star in Aries, followed by Beta Arietis and 41 Arietis. Alpha Arietis is actually larger than the Sun, though has a cooler temperature. Does everyone have their quadrant charts out? You know we have another constellation to fill in."
The students took out the gigantic sheet of graphed parchment she had given them in September. She had the students fill out the chart each time they covered a constellation in class, which would help them on their finals and, eventually, the Ordinary Wizarding Levels. The constellations were grouped by quadrants, which were divisions of the celestial sphere, or rather, the sky. The star charts made constellations easier to find, though could prove disastrous if one plotted them incorrectly at the beginning.
"Aries is located in North Quadrant One," the professor said.
Astoria drew Aries in the row labelled "NQ1" on her parchment a little sloppily. For as sour as the professor had been since September, she seemed like a new person now. Astoria was distracted by her demeanour, and tried to glean some meaning from her face. Yet every time they made eye contact, Professor Sinistra gave her a look saying she needed to focus on class.
The students had already covered some of the constellations in that quadrant including Cassiopeia, Andromeda, Pisces, and Triangulum — the last of which Draco always called "Triangular" just to irritate Astoria. She was anticipating more noise from Draco whenever the class would begin lessons on Microscopium, Telescopium, Serpens, and, worst of all, Boötes. Astoria then remembered Lupus, which was also the name of a rash. She smiled at the thought of Rhiannon slipping up in Astronomy class and saying the name of her favourite teacher instead. This only led to further distracted thoughts, such as the terrible odds of someone with the last name of Lupin being struck with lycanthropy. Professor Sinistra gave her another look.
Astoria looked over at Tracey's notes and felt better. For as distracted as she was, Astoria had about four rolls of parchment by the end of class, but most students only had two. She certainly looked like a serious student even if she wasn't focused. Yet she knew she had trouble summarizing, and it made it more difficult to study the key material. There was too much information to gather from the professor and no way to condense anything coherently.
After class, the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs made their exhausting journeys back to the dungeons and the basement, respectively. Astronomy Tower and the underground levels were the two farthest points in the school, making for a long night. Tracey had quickly met up with Sally-Anne Perks, so Astoria had nobody to make the journey with. She gathered her belongings quickly, trying not to look pitiful.
"Hi," came Daphne's voice out of the swarm.
"Hi," said Astoria.
It felt like ages since they had spoken to one another. After going down two floors in silence, the girls almost simultaneously said "I'm sorry." They shared a forced, nervous laugh together, but it was better than no laugh at all. Still, it fixed nothing. Astoria knew Daphne would still go after Blaise, and as a consequence, would avoid her. Daphne knew (or at least should have known) Astoria wasn't going to forget her friendship with Rhiannon and suddenly become a bigoted creep. So the girls did not say for what they were sorry, only that they were sorry about something, because the pain and embarrassment of saying exactly what aloud was too great.
"I've got news," said Daphne, trying to speak as though nothing had happened.
"What is it?" Astoria asked, doing the same.
"The Triwizard Tournament is traditionally accompanied by a Christmas ball!" said Daphne happily.
The two girls had been raised attending parties, balls, and banquets, complete with dress codes and formalities of no practical use. Every year at Christmas, the girls' parents held a large banquet for the entire family, and every March, the Vernal Equinox Feast brought in all of their father's relatives. It was a life they were deeply attached to.
"So when is the ball?" Astoria asked.
"That's the problem," Daphne said. "It's on Christmas day."
"Oh, Maman and Dad won't let us go," said Astoria dimly.
"I hate to say this, Astoria, but you can't go regardless of Maman and Daddy. It's only for fourth-years and up unless someone older asks you."
Astoria didn't think too long and hard about the fourth-year boys before deciding it wasn't worth it. Her family's Christmas banquet was quite elaborate, and she always had fun. But Daphne was awfully squirmy.
"I sent a letter home," she said, "asking them if I could go to the Yule Ball. If I can't, I might have to turn someone down," Daphne said.
Of course, Daphne automatically assumed all the boys would be begging her to go.
"But if I can, then I'll miss our banquet!"
"You'll have fun either way," Astoria said, trying to relieve her sister's tension, even though her sister rarely tried to relieve hers.
"I'm certain I will!" said Daphne. "You know, when the school sent a letter saying I had to get dress robes, I wasn't expecting this at all. I only brought some silly little things! I forgot to write and tell Maman that I need a new dress if I can go to the ball…"
"Perhaps it's better to ask once you know that you can attend," said Astoria.
"Hm, that's true. I think I want a violet dress. My birthday's dress was pink, and last Christmas's dress was silver… and then at that party Daddy had for his co-workers, I had a teal dress…"
Astoria rolled her eyes.
"Violet sounds good."
"I know! It really does!" squeaked Daphne.
The sisters walked together all the way back to the common room, with both the rift and the connection between them ever present. Astoria's longing to go to the ball had been smaller before Daphne waxed poetic about it. But the moment Daphne indicated that she might try to win the eye of a Beauxbatons boy if Blaise wasn't going, Astoria's heart pounded. She had not even considered that the other schools' students would be coming, although it seemed obvious. And Philippe was a fourth-year student! If he would ask Astoria, she could go…
Not that he actually would…
Not that he would even think about it, really…
When Astoria brought it up to her friends the next afternoon, Rhiannon was rife with indifference.
"Yule Ball?" said Rhiannon listlessly. "Sounds like a rum go."
"Oh, you don't have the slightest interest in going, dear?" Astoria pressured.
But the look on Rhiannon's face gave Astoria the answer.
"What the hell would I do at a ball?" Rhiannon grumbled. "Sit around in some old rags of mine or dance with some bloke who was dumb enough to ask me? Really, Astoria. No one in Slytherin would go with me, and everyone else in the school only knows me as being 'Slytherin's Blot.' Third years can't go, anyway."
"What if someone does ask you, then?" Hestia asked.
"Let's hope not. Like I said, I got no business there, and no one would ask me. And I wouldn't want no one to."
"I thought it might be fun. Or something different, at the very least," Astoria said.
"Euueruueurueuuuerehhggh," groaned Rhiannon dramatically.
"Well, I didn't mean to make you upset," Astoria shrugged. "I just thought it'd be fun."
"No, not about the ball," Rhiannon corrected. "Defence Against the Dreadful Auror is next."
Hestia and Flora giggled. Rhiannon's stubborn attitude in the class did provide some amusement for the other students. And even with her marks dropping and the occasional snide remark heard by Professor Moody, she managed to stay at the borderline between "worthy of detention" and "bothersome." That is, of course, until that day.
The professor was giving one of his usual "things to watch out for" lectures. They covered how to recognise certain Dark objects, most of which were obvious. (Anything with blood on it, Astoria would avoid regardless). They also briefly covered some information on certain species that appeared to be human but were in truth sinister, a category which included things such as vampires and, yes, werewolves.
"Most werewolves are unemployed due to the werewolf regulation at the Ministry. Furthermore, if a werewolf cannot find a victim to kill, it will hurt itself in frustration. You will notice that werewolves are covered in their own self-inflicted scars. Better him than you, of course."
Rhiannon said neither quietly nor loudly, "That's discrimination. They're fine the rest of the month."
"Would you like to teach this class, Miss Clarke?" Professor Moody said impatiently.
"I think I would," she said frankly.
"Don't use that tone with your professors, Rhiannon. Twenty points from Slytherin. Your attitude needs to stop."
"I was being no more sarcastic than you were — asking me if I wanted to teach!" she argued.
Astoria's shoulders went stiff. She had made a tacit bind at the beginning of the year which forced her to sit next to Rhiannon in every class she had with her. And that was all well, except in this particular class. Moody always called on Rhiannon when she wasn't paying attention and hovered over her writing exercises (and therefore Astoria's). Now Rhiannon was smartmouthing as though it would end well. Moody's anger, thankfully, was almost never explosive, and he simply got grumblier than he usually was.
"See me after class," he said simply, and although Astoria felt badly for Rhiannon, she was glad the confrontation was over. Much later, Rhiannon later revealed to her friends that she had detention with Professor Moody until the last day of term, the sixteenth of December.
"That's five days," said Flora. "Stop being dramatic."
"I'm not being dramatic," said Rhiannon.
"Ooh, but aye 'ave det-in-shin until the end of tum!" said Flora, imitating Rhiannon's deep, Cockney voice very rudely. "It's only four days now since you already served your time today."
"Be quiet, Flora," said Hestia. "Moody doesn't seem like the kind to let loose on detention. I've had it with Flitwick once last year, remember? He only had me sweep the classroom floor. Try to compare those teachers."
"I never get detention, so I don't have to compare anything," Flora said.
Astoria wondered why Flora was so dissimilar from her twin sister. Rhiannon ignored Flora's remarks the same way she tried to ignore bullies, and it was a shame that she had to do that even amongst supposed friends. Astoria was still unable to tell the twins apart physically, but Flora's coldness often gave her identity away in the shadow of Hestia's warmth.
"I had to start on this five page essay on the dangers of werewolves. It was originally three pages, but he said I write too large and made it five, the bloody old—" Rhiannon complained.
"Well, it was best to get in trouble toward the end of term. He could've had you in detention for a month if you did something earlier this year. You only have to write one page a day, if you think about it," said Astoria.
"Euueruueurueuuuerehhggh," Rhiannon groaned.
In no time at all, Diane Carter had blurted to Parkinson that Rhiannon had detention, as it was her duty to make sure everyone knew. Over the next few days, boys would howl at Rhiannon in the hall like a wolf, whilst the girls gave her those terrible looks of disdain. Rhiannon never minded little things like this, though.
"How's your werewolf report coming?" Astoria whispered after D.A.D.A.
"Eh, I just write what he wants to read," Rhiannon replied. "One more page to go…"
"Really? You're ahead. What is he going to make you do when you finish?"
Rhiannon shrugged.
"Maybe polish his eye, who knows."
The bell rang, and all the students hurried out of the room whilst Rhiannon remained in her chair, habitually rocking it back and forth in the cracks in the floor.
"Good luck," said Astoria.
"Good luck with your big blister," Rhiannon said as though Daphne was much worse than detention.
Daphne, as it turned out, was allowed to stay at school for the ball if she had a partner, and was constantly flirting with the boys, which embarrassed Astoria tremendously. Daphne didn't like being seen with Astoria, but lately was buzzing round her in private, telling her about the timbre of each boy's voice. In fact, she had been using Astoria's time away from Rhiannon to do this. So in a sense, they both had detention.
Astoria was in the midst of one of Daphne's descriptions about a boy's budding peach fuzz when Rhiannon was freed from detention, which had taken a turn for the worse. It turned out that Moody had no other task for Rhiannon after she finished her essay, and she wasn't allowed to do anything else.
"Now I have to just sit there!" she exclaimed. "It's terrible! We just sit there in silence and he makes old man noises! And I tried to strike up some sort of chat, and he goes, 'You're in detention!'"
Astoria and Daphne were both struck with giggles at Rhiannon's distress at hearing old man noises, but Astoria did try to take her seriously.
"Is there any spell you know of that will keep your eyes open when you sleep? Then you could nap the whole time!"
"I dunno… Even if there was a spell that kept my eyes open, I'd still snore!" Rhiannon lamented.
Rhiannon complained each evening about all of her rejected requests to do homework, clean the classroom, and even write another essay. Moody never permitted any other activity in the detention period and repeatedly met her attempts at conversation with a dead stare. She was utterly miserable until she had served her sentence.
At last, the Great Hall was ready for Christmas, with tinsel-covered garland hanging across the entirety of the snowy enchanted ceiling and an even dozen of Christmas trees along each of the walls. Candles floated all about, and some even spun around as the flames stayed completely refined. Christmas was Astoria's favourite holiday, though she still wasn't sure if having Daphne away from home would be good or bad.
"Hi, everyone!" said Tracey, squeezing between Vincent Crabbe and Sally-Anne Perks on the other side of the table.
"Guess who just got asked to the Yule Ball?" Tracey sang.
"That's great, Tracey! Who asked you?" Sally-Anne asked.
"Maxwell Lazenby," Tracey sang again. Sally-Anne giggled.
"Who's that?" asked Astoria.
"The dish over there," said Tracey, titling her head down the table.
"Don't scare him off," Draco sniggered.
"Grow up, Draco. He doesn't care," Tracey said.
Draco made the face in which he scrunched his nose, one of his favourite pouts. In fact, it was hard for Astoria to picture Draco in her head without that expression.
"I wish I could go!" whined Hestia.
"You know, you can ask someone, Hestia," said Flora, "if you want to go that badly."
"I never said I wanted to go with someone. I just want to go!" Hestia moaned.
Flora and Rhiannon had absolutely no interest in the ball whatsoever.
"Ball or no ball, I'm staying for Christmas," said Rhiannon. "And I'll get to hear all of the upperclassmen having a grand old time at that party."
"My mother would hate it if I stayed here for Christmas," Draco interrupted. "Wouldn't yours?"
"No. She hates it when I come home for Christmas," said Rhiannon seriously.
"That's a real shame," Draco said snidely.
"Yes it is, actually," said Rhiannon.
She wasn't giving Draco the reaction he wanted. Even though it had clearly been Draco's idea to tell Rhiannon her Muggle parents didn't want her home for Christmas, he hadn't counted on it being true. But his decision to lay off of her wasn't genuine guilt; Astoria didn't think he had ever learnt what guilt was.
"Tracey, come here!"
The voices came from Daphne and Parkinson. They were in a heated discussion about something that was probably of little importance, as they tended to be.
"Ugh, they've been asking me about how to get a date ever since Max asked me to the ball. I keep telling them I have no strategy, but they think I'm lying!" Tracey said. She picked up her plate and took a seat next to them.
"Everyone's making such a big deal out of this," said Flora. "Your sister and Parkinson could go alone anyway. They're fourth-years."
"Well, my sister can't. My parents always have a banquet at Christmas. They won't let her stay unless someone asks her to the ball."
"Pity," said Flora.
Astoria had a feeling that not many people liked Daphne very well.
"So if Daphne had someone ask her, she wouldn't have to go to the banquet?" Draco asked.
"That's what I just said, Draco. Why don't you ask her so I can have a peaceful Christmas at home?" Astoria suggested.
"Daphne? No! She insults me once a week," Draco said.
Daphne's doing something right, then, Astoria thought.
"I doubt if someone asked you, Astoria?" he brought up rudely.
"No, I haven't been asked, Draco. Thank you for pointing that out," she said.
"You're welcome," he said, grinning.
"Who are you going with, then?" Astoria interrogated.
"No one yet," Draco mumbled.
"He's going with his mum, you know," Rhiannon whispered in Astoria's ear. "Only way she'll let him stay for Christmas."
Draco knew that Rhiannon had whispered about him, but he had no clue what she had said. Only moments after the golden plates had vanished from the tables, Astoria heard someone say her name. She looked in that direction, saw her cousin Zéphir grinning widely at her from the Ravenclaw table, and then noticed that Philippe was standing just to the side of her.
"Hello, Philippe" she said.
"Hello. You weren't at our table today," he said gently, then looked at Draco.
"Oh, I'm sorry. One of my friends, Tracey, had something to tell us at first. Erm. She's gone now. I could, erm…"
"No, it's okay. We go back to the carriage soon. How was your day, Astoria?"
For as often as Philippe and Astoria exchanged titbits of their day over the conversational glue Zéphir provided, Astoria could not think of a single word to give him.
"Erm. I, erm, good. How was yours?"
"Good," Philippe said.
He was still looking at Malfoy, who had begun to return the stare. Then Philippe pulled a fast one no boy at Hogwarts would have the guts to do.
"Are you going to the Yule Ball with him?" Philippe asked.
"What? I — what? Him? I? I mean, no?" Astoria stammered.
"I thought I heard him ask you a minute ago."
"You should get your hearing checked," Malfoy snorted, his own ears turning pink.
"No, erm, Draco was reminding me that no one has asked me."
"That's unkind," said Philippe.
"Oh, nice to see you learnt English, Pierre," Malfoy snorted again.
"Just ignore him," Astoria said quickly and shot Draco a nasty glare. Philippe caught on to Draco's idiocy; it was very easy to figure out. He then hesitated, standing there, looking at Draco with distrust.
"Voulez-vous venir au bal avec moi?" he asked.
Astoria was stunned. She was not anticipating someone asking her to go to the Yule Ball, let alone her first — and only — preference, Philippe. Since Daphne could go if she had a partner, certainly Astoria would be able to. If her parents said no to her though, it could be a disaster. She had to say yes. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and Philippe was so very pretty.
Oh dear, how long had she been staring at him?
"Oui!" she exclaimed.
Philippe smiled, "Great."
When he walked back to the Ravenclaw table, Astoria saw that some of his friends were patting him on the back and shouting ornery things at him, and a warm, confident feeling had taken the better of her. Malfoy had no rude comment ready and finished his dessert in silence as Astoria's friends put their noses in her business in his place.
Astronomy was the last class Astoria had in the term, and though other kids were pleased when Professor Sinistra gave them a free class, Astoria was hoping for a lecture to take her mind off of the Yule Ball. Earlier, she and Daphne had Twinkles deliver a letter home asking if Astoria could also stay at Hogwarts for the Yule Ball. They asked their mother to send them dresses to wear, since they had nothing with them that they deemed appropriate. Many girls would have been happy to wear one of the Greengrasses' "regular" dresses to the Yule Ball, something Daphne failed to appreciate.
Astoria was very anxious for a reply. She was hoping with all of her might that Twinkles would arrive in time and had tried to let the owl know the importance of speed. Astoria usually had to wait about three days for a letter from her parents, but the train home left in two days. Her roommates had very different reactions when she told them Philippe had invited her. Flora merely gave a grunt, Hestia started whining again about not being able to go, and Rhiannon seemed quite happy she would get to spend Christmas with Astoria this way.
Between his sulking and the journey to Astronomy, Malfoy had been pestering Astoria to tell him what "the Frenchy" had said. Certainly, Malfoy wasn't that thick-headed. Couldn't he figure it out? It was likely that he just wanted to hear it from her to craft mean jokes.
Astoria was doodling constellations on a piece of parchment when Malfoy so politely kicked her chair. She slowly looked over her shoulder, trying to keep herself from saying something nasty to him.
"You messed up my Sagittarius," she said. "You owe me a piece of parchment."
He laughed, but Astoria was very serious. Her look let him know it.
"All right, all right," he said. He tossed a roll of parchment to her as a peace offering. "You have a bad temper."
"You have a bad habit of making it worse," she said.
"The Mudwallower has a point," Blaise said.
"And you," she said to Blaise, "stop calling me names like that. It's been over three months since I got here. Get over yourself."
Blaise looked at her disgustedly, as though he was permitted to speak of her, yet she was not to talk to him. Had Daphne not fancied Blaise so much, Astoria would have never told him that calmly, and would have said some of the most terrible things. Rhiannon had taught Astoria plenty of nasty words lately, but Astoria would never swear unless a situation like this came up. One way or another, Daphne had managed to get a date with Blaise just after dinner and had been chattering about it to Parkinson wherever they went. But Astoria gave Blaise the harshest look she could muster, which put her mind at partial ease.
"What did Pierre say to you?" Draco asked again.
"He said you look funny when you scrunch your nose," Astoria said.
"He did not," Draco said. "I heard 'moi.' He was talking about himself."
"Draco, go bother someone else." Astoria said.
Surprisingly, he stood up to do just that after Parkinson waved him over to her table, and Blaise left soon thereafter to go flirt with Daphne. Tracey and Sally-Anne were at a table with Max Lazenby, and Astoria began people-watching rather than try to fit in with the older students. She was sadly distracted by the way the fourth-year girls looked compared to her and began to wonder why Philippe would ask her when he had plenty of shapely girls to choose from. It was probably her money.
Astoria tried to talk herself out of thoughts like that. It wasn't like her money was going to be available to him at the Yule Ball. Maybe she had charmed him somehow in spite of her small frame and baby face. Philippe was always so nice to her, like it was coming from the heart, and her thoughts clouded with his face. The only thing that brought her out of the trance was when she realised the professor was gone from her desk. Exactly how free was this free period?
Astoria looked toward the stair and saw Professor Sinistra's tall figure leaning against the doorframe. There was another figure by her that happened to be Professor Snape. Astoria didn't think much of it, since the two professors could often be found side by side. Astoria rarely paid much attention to the teachers' personal lives at Hogwarts, but one thing she had noticed was that Professor Snape and Professor Sinistra's friendship was marked by proximity far over conversation. They could rarely be found talking, so she wondered what Snape would climb all the way up here to tell her.
Then it got weirder. Astoria watched the pair nod at each other and gesture ever so gently, but they never talked. At least over her shoulder, Astoria could not see either of them speak. Could they be sharing some inside joke that they didn't want to say aloud? No, Professor Snape had no sense of humour, so that couldn't be it. Astoria wondered if it was stranger that the teachers were staring at each other or that she was watching them. They were a couple decades too old to be amused by staring contests, so the only explanation Astoria could come up with was that they were together.
That explanation only served to frustrate her curiosity more. Professor Sinistra was occasionally made fun of by students for her name, with "Sinister Sinistra" and "Spinster Sinistra" being the most popular. Surely, Snape of all people wasn't the kind to change the sinister or the spinster part. Professor Sinistra was too pretty and spirited for him. Astoria almost felt the need to interrupt whatever it was they were doing in the doorframe, but they finished their silent interaction soon after and made some actual small talk. Then Professor Snape left. The whole thing was too peculiar for Astoria explain to her friends.
On Sunday morning, Draco Malfoy would find out exactly what Philippe had asked Astoria if he truly did not know. The Greengrasses had deliveries to their table at breakfast, which was just in time for Astoria, who had been anxious to prepare for the Yule Ball ever since getting her parents' permission to stay. Twinkles handled both Daphne and Astoria's packages like the ambitious little joy she was. Astoria gave Twinkles a few kippers as a treat for being such a fast flyer, which made the owl fluff her feathers in delight. When Daphne and Astoria went back to the common room, they opened their parcels at the same table. Their seventh-year cousin, Ansel Greengrass, quickly joined them with a box of her own. The three girls each had a brand new gown for the fashion season, far more extravagant than the gowns other girls in their House had brought. About forty girls all crowded round the Greengrasses, desperate to get a glimpse of the dresses, both in awe and envy. Astoria quickly became uncomfortable under all the eyes, but in looking away from the girls, she saw Malfoy leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He had no interest in the dresses, but knew Astoria's dress meant she had a date to the ball. He was sure to spread horrible rumours about accordingly, and Astoria gritted her teeth. What if Malfoy said something to Philippe behind her back?
Daphne and Ansel proudly held up their dresses and obstructed Astoria's view of Malfoy. Daphne's gown had a violet bodice made of velvet with frills sewn round the top and beneath the bust. The skirt was white with godets and black lace at the bottom. It was accompanied by a black satin and lace wrap that was tailored diagonally and gathered at the hip. Astoria could see that their parents included new jewellery, a petticoat, and a pair of heels in the box, along with two rolls of parchment's worth of a letter to her sister. Ansel's dress was gold and had a kaleidoscopic design on the bodice made from strings of pink gems. The skirt was free-flowing and became translucent farther down. Her dress came with an embroidered head ornament with the same pink gems and a pair of lace-up heels.
Astoria wanted to keep her gown out of view. She had no idea what these dresses cost. She only knew that they were straight out of the designer's book, and that the other girls would certainly have bought them if they could afford them. It would be conceited to show off something that they couldn't have. She hurriedly tucked it back into the box it came in, only seeing that it was pale blue and had its own share of lace. Then Parkinson started mocking her, no doubt eager to impress Malfoy.
"Look, Astoria's hiding hers!" Parkinson squealed. "I bet her dress is ugly and cheap! Do your parents know you're a blood-traitor and gave you a suitable dress?"
"Why don't you crawl back into the hole you came out of, you little rodent?" Ansel chirped. "If you don't, I'll be happy to put you there myself!"
Parkinson looked mortified at the older girl's threat, and Daphne hid behind her dress to avoid sticking up for either her friend or cousin. At that instant, Astoria lifted up her dress with no penitence of pride. The freshening of the startled look on Parkinson's face made it worth the trouble.
Astoria's dress was just as beautiful as the other Greengrasses'. Daphne and Astoria's mother had apparently taken Astoria's love of traditional ball gowns into account. The dress had lace the colour of light wisteria surrounding the top of the bodice and providing an off-the-shoulder neckline. There were small, silver, faux roses on either side of the hip that held together the purplish sheer fabric that fell in the front and made up the bustle on the back of the dress. The bodice and the base of the skirt were powder blue. Astoria had new heels and jewellery in the box as well, along with silvery elbow-length gloves.
"Ugly and cheap enough for you, Parkinson?" Astoria said.
Whispers all across the room overpowered the sounds of Parkinson's swearing. Astoria had finally managed to make Parkinson walk away defeated with the help of her much more aggressive cousin. Not to mention, a very long thank-you letter was due to her parents.
"So Pierre did ask you to the ball," Draco said as Astoria gathered her parcel.
"Wasn't that nice of him?" Astoria said.
"I bet you're happy," he scoffed.
"Yes, I am," she said calmly.
Draco stood there, trying to think of something insulting to say. Astoria had at last mastered the art of not encouraging Draco to bully her, treating his comments that were intended to be rude as regular conversation.
"I'll see you later," Astoria said, heading to her dorm.
He merely snorted.
"Happy Christmas!" Rhiannon yelled at some outrageous hour in the morning. "Jingle bells, Hagrid smells, Astoria's a nerd! Wake up! If you keep on sleeping, then you are a big turd!"
Astoria rolled off the bed languidly and fell to her knees on that accursed floor with thin carpeting.
"Hap Crizmus," she mumbled.
After shaking off the sleep, Astoria was grateful that Hestia and Flora had gone home. Since Rhiannon never bothered with a saga of makeup like them, Astoria would have the bathroom all to herself in the morning, and later for the ball.
"Did you know that the Weird Sisters are performing tonight at the ball‽" Rhiannon yelped as she stood in the bathroom doorway whilst Astoria began her battle against her hair.
"No, I didn't know that. That's neat," she said. "Are they your favourite band?"
"Not my favourite, no. But they're one of the bands I like, and Tracey's dad is their producer! You won't believe how much easier a producer's job is for wizards! I had no idea!"
"Well, I have no idea how difficult Muggle producers have it."
"They work until they drop. But isn't it great? Wizards don't really have to mix any of their songs and records! Their recording devices do it for them with magic! I've been looking into it a lot lately… You know…"
"Yes. Well, they would use magic, you know… being wizards…" Astoria said.
"I know! It's great!" Rhiannon replied goofily.
Breakfast was not for some time, so Rhiannon began working on writing music for more songs. Astoria really wished that it was closer to sunrise.
"I thought I'd get you something for Christmas," Rhiannon said in a low tone. "Erm, I didn't really have much money, you know, but I found this in Dominic Maestro's and thought I'd get it for you with some of my Ministry allowance..."
She reached under her bed and pulled out a small box, no bigger than her hand. It was covered in crinkled wrapping paper. It was adorable.
"Er, I'm not too good with gift-wrapping charms," Rhiannon said.
Astoria was never expecting a gift for Christmas. To think that Rhiannon, being so poor, would get her a present… It was one of the most generous things anyone had ever done for Astoria. She gave Rhiannon a hug before even opening the gift. The idea of it was enough.
"I couldn't have your family buying all this musical equipment for me and not get you somethin'," Rhiannon said meekly. "Go on, open it."
It was a small Wizard Wireless, a magically-powered radio. When Astoria opened the box, it floated right out and began to play the Wizarding Wireless Network news.
"The Weird Sisters are scheduled to play at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry tonight at 8 P.M. for the Yule Ball. Triwizard Tournament Champions Fleur Delacour, Cedric Diggory, Viktor Krum, and Harry Potter will be attending the ball and opening the dance."
"Thank you, Rhiannon!"
"Aw, it's nothing. But whenever we get our music out there, we can listen to it on this wireless until we're blue in the face!"
"That sounds lovely," said Astoria.
She was just barely joking. However unrealistic, it did sound wonderful, save for the blue in the face part.
"My presents to you are the instruments," Astoria said, taking the letter from her parents out of the box her gown came in. She had not revealed to Rhiannon that when she sent her parents a letter about the ball, she also informed them that her dear friend was planning to start a "band" and needed some help. The Greengrasses were just full of help — the letter nearly made Rhiannon cry tears of joy. Within the letter it said:
Your mother and I will place the order for the musical equipment and instruments from Dominic Maestro's after Christmas. You may pick up your order any time after the next term starts.
"You really are the best, Astoria!" Rhiannon yelped. "Did you ask them if they could get Hestia a new bass as well?"
"Yes, I did."
"This is totally amazing!"
In spite of how happy Rhiannon was, it almost didn't feel like Astoria had done enough. After all, the gift was technically from her parents and not her. Astoria would have to come up with better gift ideas next Christmas.
At breakfast, Rhiannon received a letter that folded itself to make a paper snowflake when she finished reading it.
"Did you see that?" Rhiannon said, holding her snowflake up to Astoria. "I want to learn that charm!"
"Yes, it's delightful! I've never seen it before."
What Astoria did see was that there were many more students at school than she expected, though most of them were upperclassmen. Astoria had a feeling that she was the youngest one in the building; she would turn thirteen on the sixteenth of January. But no one needed to know that, especially Philippe, who probably believed her to have been thirteen for at least several months. It was a good thing her mother had taught her and her sister how to act like mature young ladies, as opposed to acting like the hyperactive, giggling second-year girls Astoria saw in the halls. If she had been put into her second year as planned, she probably would not have assimilated very well. Not that she was getting on well this way, either…
Astoria saw Philippe at the Ravenclaw table at lunch; he was not sitting so far away from her, but talking to him at this point was impossible. Astoria felt that she would certainly say something stupid and thought it would be best to wait until the ball. She might be more relaxed after having all day to fuss. It was only around six o'clock when Astoria went to get ready. Rhiannon was pacing round the dormitory since she had not much else to do as Astoria primped.
"That's an awfully pretty dress," Rhiannon said, touching the sheer fabric.
"Thank you," said Astoria. She was trying to use a large banana clip on the back of her head to hold the tops of her curls up higher. It was quite simple, actually, but she kept aiming it wrong.
"When does the ball end?" Rhiannon asked.
"Midnight, I believe," said Astoria.
"What do you s'pose I do when you're there for four hours?"
"Read? Sleep? Listen to music? Write more songs?"
"Eh, this is no fun," Rhiannon said. "Maybe I should've asked your cousin to take me to the ball. You'll have to tell me all about it, okay?"
"I will," Astoria said.
At last, her hair was perfect, so she put on her dress and accessories.
"Would you come to the common room with me?"
"Sure! I'd like to see what everyone's wearing."
The two girls walked out of the dormitory practically arm in arm, one in a ball gown and one in track pants. The common room was full of students who were all much taller than Astoria, even with her heels. She had never seen the room look quite as lively as it was then; the "haunted" look of the common room wasn't even noticeable.
"Hi, Astoria! Rhiannon!" called Tracey. She was wearing peach, slim-fitting robes with gems sewn into the skirt and standing next to Maxwell Lazenby, her dance partner.
"Loving the pants, Rhi," she smiled.
"I know, they're top-of-the-line," Rhiannon said, posing with her hand on her hip.
"You look lovely, Astoria. Who are you going with again?" Tracey asked.
"Philippe Boisvert from Beauxbatons," Astoria said.
"Ooooh, a French boy!" Tracey said. "Well, we're all going to start up in about ten minutes or so and take the other Houses by storm."
"Sounds like a good plan if I ever heard one," said Max. "Overwhelm the entrance so no one else can get in without seeing us. We're very important, you see."
"Clearly. By the way, have you seen my sister?" Astoria asked.
Daphne wouldn't be speaking with her tonight since she was with Blaise, but Astoria thought she would at least say "hello" or "have fun."
"Er… Oh! She's over there," said Tracey, straightening herself up to try to see over the seventh-year guys.
Astoria saw her standing near Blaise. Daphne looked much older; perhaps it was all of the extra make-up. She was speaking with Parkinson — oh gosh, was that really Parkinson?
To see why Astoria was staring, Rhiannon turned and then howled with laughter. There was Pansy Parkinson, genuinely smiling, wearing a dress that was very, very frilly and very, very pink. Pink frills and ruffles looked extremely unfitting on Parkinson. Astoria thought that a barbarian's costume complete with a club would be more suitable.
"Would you look at that‽" Rhiannon bawled. "Parkinson doesn't look so tough now! This image'll be stuck in my mind forever."
"Yeah, she's been messing with that dress for hours. I told her, it's fine, but she thought that the frills needed 'adjustment.' Honestly, how can you adjust a whole dress of frills?" Tracey said. "She should have never bought it in the first place if she was unhappy with it."
"No, no. It's good that she bought it," Rhiannon said, still chuckling.
The students started up to the Great Hall, and Astoria had to part with her best friend. All at once, she felt insecure. She was the youngest one in the whole group of Slytherins and kept noticing girls staring at her dress with jealousy. They all had pretty dresses, too, but that wasn't the point. Maybe it was the gloves. She thought about taking the gloves off since none of the other girls looked to have any, but she did not have anywhere decent to put them and had to keep them on.
"Malfoy looks like a vampire," Max Lazenby noted.
"He does, doesn't he? He's practically wearing a cape, and his paleness doesn't help much," Tracey said. "Pansy'd better watch her neck, or Draco-la will get her."
Parkinson and Draco were at the front of the group. He did look like a vampire, and Parkinson looked to be under a hypnotic trance. It was a sickening sight to see her holding onto his arm like that. Of course Draco ended up asking her, even though she was cutting off his arm's circulation. She pretty much worshipped him and was probably one of the few girls who wouldn't turn him down. Astoria tidied the wrinkles out of her long gloves and stood up straight.
The Gryffindors apparently had a similar strategy in mind of coming all at once. About ninety of them came down the staircase, all staring at the kids in the rival House. Why did Parkinson have to be in the front with her embarrassment of a dress? Then again, there was some pitiful Gryffindor fellow with torn dress robes standing next to Harry Potter. Astoria was curious as to how he managed to tear up his robes like that; it almost looked intentional.
When the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students entered through the front doors, Astoria scuttled over to find her partner. She saw him wave and went to stand by him.
"Hello, Astoria."
"H-Hi," she gasped. There was a knot in her stomach and a stiffness in her chest that prevented her from breathing properly.
Everyone except the Champions and their dance partners filed into the Great Hall and sat down at round tables. There were five other couples at Astoria's table, but she knew no one, and they were all much older. She felt more out of place than she had already, and tried not to look down at her feet.
The Champions and their partners began to process into the Hall. Astoria saw Harry Potter with a pretty girl in a pink sari, Fleur Delacour with a mesmerised young man, Cedric Diggory with the pretty Ravenclaw girl Astoria saw in the hallways a few times, and Viktor Krum with a girl with perfect hair. Astoria didn't like seeing how well the older girls' dresses fit them. She arched her back in frustration and hoped Philippe wouldn't analyse how small her chest was.
"We get to pick what to eat now?" Philippe asked. "About time."
Astoria noticed that people were simply saying what they wanted to eat. Philippe looked down at his plate and said, "truite au vin jaune." Astoria did the same. Their food instantly appeared on their plates. It wasn't something Draco would have ordered: the trout was definitely "staring."
After the meal, the Champions opened the dance. The Weird Sisters stood on a stage that recently appeared and were playing a sad, slow tune. Astoria did not think it was in much good taste to open a festivity with such a bittersweet song; it spoke of "final" dances when clearly this was the first dance of the night. Astoria certainly hoped that this would not be her last chance to be with Philippe, as the Weird Sisters kept claiming that it would be in their lyrics. Yet with their messy hair and tattered clothing, they did not look much like a group of broken-hearted crooners; they looked like the sort of crowd Rhiannon would find herself with. Philippe held out his hand when the other students started dancing after the Champions. Astoria took it, and they began to dance, though it wasn't long before the back of her foot was stepped on. She turned her head to see a round-faced young man with large eyes dancing with Ginny Weasley.
"Sorry," the boy said quickly.
"That's okay," Astoria said and smiled at Ginny. Ginny tilted her head a bit and gave a nervous smile back.
"You have been to things like this before?" Philippe asked Astoria.
"Yes," she said. She had been to many things like this before and had danced with many people, yet something was different about dancing with someone she fancied. She was having a great time already, but breathing normally was still on her list of things to do.
"I am not a very good dancer," Philippe joked. "I thought this would be more of a contredanse."
"You are a good dancer. I thought it would be more organised, too." she said. Making sure Ginny and her partner were farther away, Astoria said, "But you're not stepping on my feet, are you?"
"No, I must be okay then," he said, his laugh and smile unbearably attractive.
Coincidentally, Astoria's feet were trampled for a second time. Expecting it to be Ginny's partner again, Astoria glanced only out of impulse, but instead she saw Professor Sinistra dancing with Professor Moody. It was a strange sight, though seeing her with Snape would not have been any less strange.
"A-Astoria, dear, so sorry," Professor Sinistra stammered, readjusting the bottom of her red-violet dress.
"It's quite all right," Astoria replied quickly. There was absolutely no need for the professor to apologise, for her dancing partner's wooden leg explained everything.
"Well, I'm definitely a decent dancer now," Philippe whispered.
Yes, it would have been nice if Rhiannon was somewhere in the room and if Astoria wasn't the youngest person there. Yes, it would have been nice to be at home with her family and be at the banquet, but six of her relatives were, in fact, present at the Yule Ball. And yes, it would be absolutely wonderful if Parkinson tripped on her own dress robes, but since she was not very experienced with ballroom dancing, that possibility still stood.
Nonetheless, Astoria did not feel nervous any longer. Being with someone who actually thought she was worthwhile had already made the night unforgettable. Everything about Phillipe's little jokes and comments and the exact way his smile creased his cheek warmed Astoria's chilly night. The Weird Sisters began to play a rock song, though, and since neither Philippe nor Astoria was quite comfortable with fast dancing, they went to get drinks. Daphne was standing next to the table with the drinks, holding a butterbeer tight in her hands.
"Hello, Daphne," Astoria said, getting a butterbeer of her own. "Philippe, this is my sister, Daphne."
"It's nice to meet you," he said.
"Enchantée," Daphne said without looking him in the eye. "Have you seen Tracey?"
"Not since we sat down for the feast," Astoria said.
"Oh, just great," mumbled Daphne.
"Would you excuse us for a few minutes?" Astoria asked Philippe. Something was definitely bothering her sister.
Astoria was grateful that Philippe was so mellow. He went to talk to Zéphir, who was getting butterbeers for three girls at once. Astoria wondered if her cousin had one single partner for the ball, or purely a clump of girls who fancied him. It appeared that her other cousin, Asenath the Gryffindor, was doing much the same thing, almost strikingly parallel to Zéphir, and with a similar amount of success. Money would do that.
"What's the matter with you?" Astoria asked Daphne after rolling her eyes at her cousins.
Daphne looked up from her mug of butterbeer. She had a very fretful look on her face.
"It's nothing," Daphne lied.
"Something's wrong," Astoria said gently.
Daphne grew teary-eyed. "Some Muggle-born girl from Hufflepuff bumped into us when we were dancing. Blaise got all angry, you know, and he just stopped dancing right there. He called the girl a 'damn Mudblood' and made her cry, and made this stupid scene… I said, 'Well, what did you do that for?' and he just gave me this weird look and left. I don't know where he went."
Astoria always had a terrible feeling about Blaise. He was going to ruin Daphne's day at some point, and this was it.
"Don't pay attention to him! Daphne, really, here…" Astoria grabbed a few serviettes off the refreshment table and handed them to her sister to wipe her tears. Daphne dried her eyes slowly and carefully so as not to smudge her make-up.
"Is my mascara running?" Daphne sniffled.
"No, it isn't."
"Maman and Daddy would have wanted me to come home if they knew this would happen," she sighed.
There was a loud applause, and another slow song began to play. Daphne became angry.
"If Blaise comes back, I'll hit him, I will!" she yelled.
Her roommates walked over to the girls, having noticed a problem. Parkinson looked irritated, but came nonetheless. Max Lazenby and Draco stood back a distance, probably trying to avoid "girl problems."
"Daphne, what's wrong?" Sally-Anne asked earnestly.
"Are you okay?" Parkinson asked. She shot Astoria a mean look, as though she had made her sister upset.
"Blaise went and left me," Daphne squawked. She had started crying again, tilting her head craftily as the tears fell to try to prevent her make-up from running.
"That little—" Millicent said.
"You know, I don't feel so well," Daphne said. "I think I'll go back to the dorm."
Sally-Anne looked at Tracey, who gave her a sad look and a shrug. Daphne headed for the staircase, in spite of her roommates all looking disappointed. It didn't make much sense to Astoria that she would leave just because she didn't have a dance partner anymore. She was old enough to be at the dance alone. But Daphne was Daphne, and her pride had been hurt.
Parkinson ran over to Draco and said something hurriedly. He looked taken aback by what she said but nodded and caught up with Daphne.
"Daphne, you can dance with me. Take your mind off of it. You don't have to go back to your dorm. This isn't musical chairs."
It was the kindest thing Astoria had ever seen Draco Malfoy do.
Daphne stared at him like he was speaking Aramaic. She looked over at Parkinson, who must have been somewhere between happiness and rabies. Parkinson nodded slowly.
"All right," Daphne said. "I guess… I don't need him…"
Astoria saw her sister cheer up slowly but surely as Draco made fun of everyone's outfits with her. It made Astoria happier, too, and she caught herself smiling at Parkinson. Parkinson didn't say anything rude. She didn't say anything nice, either, but there was an odd peace between the girls at that moment. To think that Parkinson had given up her precious Draco for a few dances for Daphne's sake! That, at least, was something Astoria respected. She went to dance with Philippe again.
"Is your sister okay?" he asked.
"Yes, I think so," said Astoria. Daphne and Draco were making faces at each other as they danced, but they were more humorous than spiteful.
"She's at slight risk of a vampire bite, though," Astoria said, watching Draco's cape swish.
"What?" Philippe asked.
"Oh, it's nothing," smiled Astoria.
Astoria and Philippe ended up dancing to the faster songs as well, and by the time midnight came, Astoria's legs were completely fatigued. When the last song ended, her voice still had enough energy to cheer with the rest of the crowd. She couldn't wait to see Rhiannon and tell her all that had happened.
When Philippe had to leave to go back to the cold carriage, Astoria gave him a hug and a daring kiss on the cheek. It might have been slightly awkward, but she didn't care. He didn't appear to mind at all, and nothing was going to bother Astoria then. She walked back down to the dungeons with Daphne, who didn't care that Astoria was a blood-traitor tonight, because she had been a bit of one, too.
Students lingered in the common room, not wanting to believe that the night was over. Tracey and Max were still dancing round the room, even without music. Rhiannon hurried down the staircase to hear all about the ball. She wouldn't believe the bit about Parkinson, Draco, and Daphne at first, saying that Astoria must have had way too much butterbeer.
"I only had two butterbeers, though! Oh, hold on a minute, Rhi," Astoria said.
This was going to be difficult, but it had to be done. Astoria approached Draco and Parkinson, making sure that Daphne was out of earshot.
"Thank you both for cheering up my sister. She can be sensitive," Astoria said determinedly.
"I know, and there's no use in letting her cry all night," Parkinson said, trying to make it not sound like a big deal. Astoria knew it was.
"Yes, well—" Astoria stuttered.
"Happy Christmas," Draco said.
"Yeah, happy Christmas, Greengrass," Parkinson murmured.
"You, too," Astoria said.
Parkinson didn't look nearly as troll-like anymore, and when Draco smiled, one would never guess he could be a little hellion. Astoria had a difficult time getting rid of her own huge smile, which caused Rhiannon to reiterate her stance that Astoria was full of butterbeer.