Book 1: Astoria Greengrass and the Muggle-Born Slytherin
Song rec: "The Man Who Sold the World" as performed by Nirvana (cover of David Bowie)
On the fourteenth of January, two days before Astoria's birthday, the students had another Hogsmeade trip. Rhiannon had barely slept on the Friday night before, being far too excited about picking up the instruments from the music shop. As a result, the other girls had restless sleep, but Flora was probably the grumpiest.
"My drum lessons better have been worthwhile," she griped.
Since her so-called "drum lessons" had been free as part of signing her up for Music class on Sundays, the other girls chose to ignore her attitude.
"We're here to pick up an order," Astoria said to the woman at the counter inside Dominic Maestro's.
"Last name?" asked the clerk.
"Greengrass."
"Estelle?"
"That's my mother," Astoria asserted.
"Sign here," said the clerk, handing Astoria a quill. Rhiannon jittered impatiently as Astoria wrote her name in neat cursive.
The clerk had the shop assistants retrieve the instruments and equipment from the back room. Flora's drum kit was divided in boxes, and Hestia's bass guitar was safe in its leather case. Hestia, Flora, and Rhiannon took out their wands. The girls had eleven boxes to carry all the way to the castle.
"Locomotor box," Hestia said, aiming her wand at one of the large boxes. The box rose in the air. Rhiannon and Flora each picked up a small box under one arm and used the same charm to each move a larger box. Astoria followed their lead, but her box rose comedically higher than the other ones. There were still four boxes left to get, but the girls couldn't carry any more. Luckily, they saw Sally-Anne Perks outside, and acquired her help. They all walked to the Great Hall, careful not to lose focus and drop the floating boxes to the floor. Moving things would be so much easier once they learned Shrinking Charms…
"Where do you suppose we put these?" Astoria asked.
"We can only play them in the music room, so…" Rhiannon said.
Flora huffed. "All the way up there?"
"If you were going to use the school's crummy old drum kit anyway, why did I buy you a new one of your own?" Astoria argued. "We're not going to let it stay in the boxes."
After the girls set the boxes down in the classroom, they thanked Sally-Anne and hurried back down the staircase to return to Hogsmeade.
"What do you want for your birthday, Astoria?" Hestia asked. "I'm not good with guessing."
"I don't really want anything," Astoria said. She couldn't think of much that she might want; she already had many of the things she would have liked as a birthday gift.
"Sure you don't," Hestia countered.
"I really don't. I can't think of anything," Astoria insisted. She had never received presents from anyone but family before — with this being her first group of friends, that was a gift enough.
"All right, all right. You're getting something stupid then," Hestia laughed, and ran off to go find some bauble to get Astoria. Flora went in another direction, a façade of coolness but a tricky smile on her face. Rhiannon stood in the slush, looking a bit nervous. Her hands were in the pockets of her robes.
"I don't need anything for my birthday except your company," Astoria instructed.
Rhiannon nodded quickly. "You know I would get you stuff if I could, right?"
"I know," Astoria said. "Do you want to go to the Three Broomsticks?"
"Nah, it smells funny in there most of the time," Rhiannon said.
"Honeydukes?"
"I'm skint," Rhiannon said, turning her empty pockets inside-out.
Astoria wasn't sure of what to say. Rhiannon simply couldn't stay in the castle when other kids went to Hogsmeade on weekends because of her lack of money. Yet Astoria knew Rhiannon probably would feel uncomfortable letting her pay for everything. No matter how much Astoria reassured her, Rhiannon couldn't seem to get the guilt over Astoria's birthday off of her face.
"Why don't we go back to the castle and get the drum kit set up?" Astoria asked.
"Yeah!" said Rhiannon happily.
After nearly an hour of tedious work and about eighty swears from Rhiannon, Flora's drum kit was ready to play. It sat in the back corner of the classroom next to Hestia's bass.
"This looks really high-quality," Rhiannon commented. "Let's see Hestia's." She took the deep-red bass guitar out of its case and squinted at the emblem.
"Maestro's a good brand, I'm assuming? The drum kit is the same brand as the guitar."
"I believe it is the only brand of modern instruments they sell there, Rhi."
Rhiannon played it for a minute to test it.
"Ha! This is great," Rhiannon said joyfully. She really enjoyed the feeling of magical instruments. She put Hestia's guitar back in the case, though she was still examining it. She took out her wand and pointed it at the guitar. Astoria was slightly concerned about her handling — she knew that it wasn't a cheap item.
"Colovaria perpetuus," Rhiannon said.
The guitar's colour instantly changed to bright green.
"Hestia's favourite colour," Rhiannon mentioned. "She didn't even look at her new bass yet, the scatterbrain."
Back in the common room, Hestia and Flora returned from Hogsmeade with gift bags. Flora had thoughtfully bought Astoria a book on the moons of Saturn, whereas Hestia bought her a book about alien invasions. Astoria thanked them both. She would be putting her nose right into the Saturn book, but even the alien book was something she could treasure in a strange way.
Astoria's actual birthday was on a Monday, which was, just as anyone else's, her least favourite day of the week. It didn't feel much like a birthday at all; if it wasn't for the handful of "happy birthday's," a beautiful necklace from her parents, and the fact that she was born on that day thirteen years ago, it really wouldn't be. This was her first year at Hogwarts, and since her birthday was during the school year, she couldn't have much of a celebration. She was beginning to get homesick again, but did not want to tell anyone for fear that it would make her sound childish. Going to school had been a drastic change for Astoria, since she went from seeing her parents every day to not seeing her parents for five months so far. She did write to them often, but it really was not the same as seeing them. Even though she was glad that she was able to stay at school and go to the ball this year, she wouldn't want to do it repeatedly.
Later in the week, Rhiannon told the other three girls that on Sundays after Music class, Professor Flitwick gave permission to use the classroom for practice. Astoria was hit with the terrible reality that she was supposed to be a singer in her friend's band. What would she sound like to other people? She had to admit her voice was not very strong. Deep inside, she wondered if the other girls really did need her in the band. Even deeper, she couldn't determine whether she actually wanted to be in it or if she just wanted to feel included.
The next Sunday came, and the four girls were in a cleared spot of the music room. Flora was stretching her arms, and Astoria drowned more than half of a bottle of water. Hestia apparently noticed Astoria picking at her fingernails, because she told Astoria not to worry, since it was only the four of them. It didn't help to hear that, though. It wouldn't always be the four of them. Astoria had a bad feeling that she should have sung more often lately than just when she was in the shower. There was an awkward hush amongst the girls. Flora was sitting behind her drum kit, having only a couple of months' worth of experience. Hestia was standing with her bass strapped on, and Rhiannon was settling herself in a chair, the preventable cord streaming behind her. She utterly refused to let Astoria buy her a new guitar run by magic, despite how much easier it would be. Astoria figured that Rhiannon's reasoning was that firstly, she loved her guitar, and secondly, she had spent an awful lot of time learning the obsolete spells to work a Muggle guitar with magic. Astoria also suspected that Rhiannon felt proud to have wires in her apparatus.
"What do you lot want to play to warm up with?" Rhiannon asked.
"Something easy," said Flora. "This is our first official practice together."
"Okay, let's just do that intro thing then?" Rhiannon suggested. "We should all know that by heart. We do that just about every Sunday before music class."
Astoria was not needed at the moment; this song was only about a minute and had no words. Rhiannon had originally wanted it to be the musical introduction to "The Pariah," but thought best to make it separate so she could sell "The Pariah" as a shorter single if the time came. Flora always got good exercise with this intro — it was just about driven by the drums completely "to build tension," as Rhiannon had said.
Listening to the three play the intro to "The Pariah" reminded Astoria that she carelessly forgot to bring her music sheet with the lyrics to that song. Actually, she forgot to bring all of her music, and she was far from having the lyrics memorised. Hestia and Rhiannon had five songs written already. Rhiannon mentioned making demos for those songs to give to Tracey's father at a later time and get feedback. Astoria had no idea how Tracey's father would feel about that, but she didn't want to discourage Rhiannon. Astoria stood up quickly from her seat, and Rhiannon abruptly stopped playing her guitar. A weird feedback sound came out of her amplifiers that made Flora flinch.
"Ruddy old thing," Rhiannon muttered. "What's wrong?"
"I forgot to bring my lyrics," said Astoria.
"Do you really need them?" Hestia asked.
"I wasn't the one who wrote the songs," Astoria replied.
"All right, all right. We'll see you later, I guess," Rhiannon said. She knew going to get them in the dungeons wasn't something one could do quickly from the fifth floor.
Astoria started down the stairs. The castle felt extremely empty on Sundays in the wintertime, since most students stayed in the common rooms. She really hoped that she wouldn't run into Mr Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts, or his trusty feline, Mrs Norris. Astoria never got into trouble with him, but the girls said he liked tormenting the students even when they didn't do anything wrong. She did, however, run into Professor Snape once she reached the dungeons. He didn't look very pleased to see a lone wandering student, but then again, he never looked pleased with anything. He stopped right in front of her so that walking around him would be slightly difficult in the thin corridor.
"What are you looking for?" he demanded.
"I–I was going back to my dorm to get my, my music sheets, sir," Astoria stuttered.
"Sunday music class is over," he replied with a heavily suspicious tone.
"Yes, I'm in a — well, a band, Professor, and I forgot my lyrics in the dorm."
"You're in a band, Miss Greengrass?" he said disrespectfully.
"Yes. I'm, er, singing," Astoria said.
Professor Snape still did not look happy with that explanation. "And who is in this, erm, band?"
"Rhiannon, and Hestia, and Flora," Astoria answered.
"Conveniently all of the girls in your dormitory?"
"Yes… Rhiannon plays guitar, Hestia plays bass, and Flora's learnt to play the drums."
The professor stepped out of the way with an eyeroll.
"Quite the musical congregation. Miss Greengrass, I have no reason not to believe you, but do a better job of not looking so suspicious next time."
"Thank you, sir," Astoria said, having absolutely no idea how to make herself look any less criminal than she was already.
Professor Snape strode toward his office, and Astoria continued through the dungeons to get to the common room.
"Eidolon," Astoria said to the stone wall that blocked the entrance to the common room. The stone began to shift backwards until there was an opening. Astoria stepped through it and down the steps into the noise of the common room. She squeezed through a group of fifth-year girls and went back up the small flight of steps on the opposite side.
Room 102… room 104… room 106. She got out her key, which ironically had a skull on the top yet could only open one door, and let herself into her dorm. Her papers were luckily right on her bed. She had been nearly a half an hour already, so she hurried out of the corridor and back down to the common room. A mistake on her part — she always needed to keep her actions low-key. It was as though Draco Malfoy was on a constant vigil to find anything out of the ordinary about which he could comment. The same suspicious manner that had caught Professor Snape's attention had also summoned Malfoy.
"Why are you running?" he asked her after she had nearly bumped into him.
"Because I have seven flights of stairs to go up," she declared, still walking. It wasn't until she reached the steps to go out of the common room that she noticed he was walking with her.
"I didn't know you had Ancient Runes on Sundays," he said.
"Not Ancient Runes — Music," Astoria replied. She made an exit through the stone wall, yet so did he. "I'm going to the fifth floor; don't bother following me."
She hoped that Professor Snape would be lurking somewhere to ask Draco if he was also in a "musical congregation."
"Music is on the fifth floor? I thought it was on the sixth," he said.
"That's Ancient Runes, Draco. Why are you trailing after me?"
"I'm not."
"So you just happen to be walking the same way I am at the same time for no reason. Dinner isn't until six."
"What are those papers?"
"They're for Music," she said defensively.
Endless bullying would ensue if anyone found out the "space nerd" was in a band.
"Music class ends at eleven," Draco said slyly.
"I'm doing extra credit."
"You are not."
"Well, I am, so I don't know what else to tell you," she said.
"You don't want me to see those papers?" Draco pried.
"No! I mean, well, it wouldn't make a difference," Astoria stated.
"Then let me see them."
"No. Mind your own business."
The two walked in silence for quite some time. When they reached the fourth floor, however, Astoria grew nervous. If he followed her all the way to the music room, he would know about the band, and that would be terrible.
"Are you going to follow me all the way to the music room?"
"Are you hiding something there? Part of your 'extra credit,' maybe?" he teased. "By the way, where's your boyfriend? Shouldn't he be spending time with you at the weekends?"
"Draco, I can't stand having you follow me," Astoria said, defeated. Malfoy, along with the rest of the school, was going to find out about Pariah eventually. "Go up to the classroom yourself, and you'll see there's nothing interesting. You're breathing down my neck."
"I don't know where the music room is. I don't have any classes on the fifth floor."
Astoria recognised that she had only a few choices. She could go back to the common room and hope that he followed, yet make the rest of the band angry for skipping practice. She could go to the music room and have him find out, which wasn't desirable. On the other hand, she could hurry into the music room and shut the door behind her. However, Malfoy would be able to hear them and might tell a teacher that students locked themselves in a classroom. A simple charm would unlock that door anyway if they didn't push something heavy in front of it. Alternatively, she could attempt to ask him to leave politely, as if that would work.
"Draco, could you please go somewhere else? I really don't think the others would appreciate you dropping in to see them. You're not very kind to them."
"You must be breaking the rules in there. I didn't think you ever broke any rules, Astoria."
"I'm not breaking any rules! I just don't think it would be a good idea for you to—"
"Maybe if you tell me why, then I'll leave you alone," he interrupted.
"You'll go in there and be mean to Rhiannon, and Hestia will get angry, and Flora will storm off, and it will be my fault… because you wouldn't have been in there if it wasn't for me."
"I won't say anything," he said with one hand on his heart and the other risen. "You make me out to be some sort of bully. How could you, Astoria? I'm hurt."
"You are a bully, Draco. I don't know when you'll realise that. You had better keep your mouth shut towards Rhiannon. I am sick of you being mean to her," she snapped.
"Well, I'll try."
She took a step toward him and stared straight into his cold eyes with her own.
"Trying isn't good enough," she emphasised.
When they reached the music room, Astoria gave Draco one last menacing look. He met her with an impish smile. Astoria could hear music playing in the room. She anticipated a fight as she opened the door. The girls quickly stopped playing when the two stepped into the room. Rhiannon's amplifiers emitted the strange noise again, but she didn't give them any attention. All three of the girls stared at Draco, who was furrowing his brow and looking at their ensemble.
"You're playing alone…?" he whispered. "What is this, you're making a band?"
"No, it's extra credit. Would you leave?" Astoria nudged him in a frantic manner. He didn't move.
"What's he doing here?" Flora demanded.
"He followed me back up here! I couldn't make him leave."
"He'll have to leave now! You think I can sing with him here?" Hestia complained.
"What, you think I can?" Astoria argued.
"Hey, calm down," Draco interrupted. "What exactly have you got going on here?"
"You already said it, Malfoy," Hestia said. "We made a band."
"Why would you do that? You're in school. You three are thirteen," he said.
"I'm thirteen, too," Astoria informed emphatically.
"Happy Belated Birthday, then," Draco said.
Then Rhiannon said, "Listen Malfoy, we can't have you stand here now and watch us play. You'll have to go, or I'll get Flitwick to make you leave."
"Isn't the purpose of a band to have an audience?" he asked cleverly.
"We've only just started!" Hestia shouted. "And you aren't the ideal audience!"
He looked more amused than offended. Sadly, it was very difficult for the girls to offend Draco Malfoy, and if one managed to do so, Astoria figured he would probably cry.
"If you play a song, I'll leave. You probably aren't that great," Draco smirked.
"Not that great!" Rhiannon repeated. "Let's play 'Useless' for him, yeah?" she said to the twins. Flora didn't look very thrilled about doing that, but a few heavy drum beats started momentarily. Astoria sat down, clueless about this song herself, and Draco joined her. He folded his arms judgmentally. When the girls started the song, Astoria noticed that it differed greatly from the usual sound Rhiannon liked to achieve with her guitar. The tune was slow and sophisticated, only a low riff was audible during what would be the verses. Flora's drumbeat sounded like a breaking heart, and Hestia's bass hummed along with it. During the build, Rhiannon did use some sludgy sound effects on her guitar, but they weren't very domineering. The instrumental was so addicting that by the end of the piece, Draco had unfolded his arms, and Astoria wanted an encore.
"You can go now," Flora said to Draco.
He harrumphed, "Why are you using electrical cords?"
"They're not electrical cords," Hestia said, holding up the charmed cord from Dominic Maestro's that went to her amplifier.
"Not yours — hers. Couldn't bear to live without electricity?" Draco said, pointing to Rhiannon. "Figures as much."
"There's no electricity in it, git. Electricity won't work in Hogwarts. I made this apparatus before we bought the rest of the stuff at the music shop. Now get outta here," Rhiannon snorted.
Astoria gave Draco a hard look. Draco was still sitting next to her, studying Rhiannon's guitar with cruelty on his tongue.
"You said you'd leave," Astoria said bitterly.
"What do you do in this band, though? Act as the sponsor, I'm guessing?" he asked rudely. "They'll make you pay for everything and take credit, Astoria."
"Sponsor! I'm the vocalist," Astoria proclaimed.
"I didn't hear any singing," Draco remarked.
"Rhiannon had the vocals on that song. Besides, I'm not singing in front of you!" she snarled.
"But we're friends, aren't we?" he asked with a sickening confidence in his voice.
Astoria had to define the word "friend" in her head. No, Draco was more of an "acquaintance" or even "enemy." Friend was too strong of a word for someone like him. Rhiannon was her friend. Rhiannon was also one of the many reasons Draco and Astoria were not friends. However, Astoria knew that beneath his confident voice there was uncertainty; otherwise, he wouldn't have asked such a silly question. Any time before, it would have been extremely easy for her to just snap at him with a "no," but she really didn't feel like saying that. Thinking of Draco's actual friends — Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Zabini — well, they weren't the best of friends, were they? Astoria did not consider Draco a friend, but what harm would be done if he considered her a friend? It might make him bully the other girls less.
"I guess, Draco," she muttered after a long silence only the other four noticed.
He didn't argue further with her. He merely gave her a slightly arrogant smile and strutted out of the music room. Rhiannon, Hestia, and Flora made no comments, but Astoria thought she might feel better if they did. She was waiting for Rhiannon to make a joke, but that never happened. A friendship with both Rhiannon and Draco was nonsensical.
"I only said that to get rid of him, Rhi," Astoria lied.
"Yeah, I was hoping!" Rhiannon laughed nervously. "'Course now he'll think you're friends."
"She's his only decent friend, then. He didn't have to hex her to get her to talk to him like he had to with everyone else," said Hestia.
Ba-dum-tss.
Hestia's joke was met with a "sting" from Flora, who started to giggle, having surprised herself with her own developing sense of humour.
Rhiannon obtained permission from Professor Flitwick to use the music room not only on Sunday afternoons, but on any day of the week, as long as they were in their common room by curfew. But Rhiannon insisted that the band practise every chance they get. Taking homework into account, Flora determined that the girls could get together every afternoon as long as they didn't have "more than two large assignments, more than five small assignments, or more than one large assignment and three small ones." And if Astoria or Hestia had more homework than Flora or Rhiannon, the latter two girls would still go. Hestia didn't appreciate that rule.
"Oh, who needs the bass player all the time, eh? She only has four strings!" a frustrated Hestia said.
"I don't mean it that way, Hestia. I'm just saying that me and Flora probably need more practice, y'know?" Rhiannon countered.
"Whatever," Hestia grumbled.
Astoria hardly thought Rhiannon needed any practice. She was magnificent with her guitar, but even her heavily calloused fingers and constant positive feedback from the girls couldn't convince her of that.
Despite some arguments, being a part of a small band turned out to be such a great thing. Astoria became more confident singing; however, she needed much more practice. She had co-written three songs and was working on writing two songs herself without the others knowing. The girls had practised around twenty times before their minds were rid of thoughts on the band and filled with thoughts about the Tournament. The morning of the Second Task was a dawn of anxiety for Astoria once again. She was so preoccupied that she did not fix her hair that morning, but she regretted it later when she remembered she would probably be next to Philippe all day.
On the grounds, everyone was shuffling in stand seats near the shore of the lake. Astoria found herself with the Beauxbatons students, yet Flora was the one with her this time. Hestia and Rhiannon were standing where most of the Slytherins were. The Beauxbatons had all become quite familiar with Astoria — she often sat with them at meals rather than the Slytherins since Draco always managed to sit near her, and Parkinson was often near Draco. When Astoria was unaccompanied by Rhiannon, the Beauxbatons enjoyed speaking their language with her as though it were a little piece of home. However, those who knew how spoke English when she was with friends. Zéphir, in particular, used his command of English to woo Hogwarts girls left and right, but when he went for Flora, it was a little too much for Astoria to stomach.
"You must be Flora," Zéphir said smoothly, which was a sleuthing guess.
But the twins were always flattered when people could tell them apart, and Flora was already blushing as Zéphir eased her into conversation as though Flora normally was social. Philippe noticed Astoria's embarrassment of her cousin and decided to embarrass her in better ways.
"You seem so nervous," Philippe said. "You were nervous the last time, too, weren't you?
"Well, I'm not sure how safe this tournament is," Astoria said.
"They'll be okay," Philippe reassured.
"If they don't drown," she uttered, looking at the impenetrable surface of the murky lake.
No matter how lovely Philippe's company was, Astoria had intrusive thoughts about the event going wrong. She couldn't have been the only one in the audience feeling on edge, certainly, but nobody else was being tormented by thoughts of finding the drowned bodies of Champions by the Slytherin common room's window. It was awful, and she could barely appreciate Philippe's company. They were speaking to each other in their own little world, but the chatter of the crowd always overpowered the words she had on the tip of her tongue. She was coming across as shy again, and she hated it.
Mr Bagman, a judge of the Triwizard Tournament, announced to the spectators that the Champions had one hour to get something that was stolen from them.
Stolen and thrown in the lake? Astoria thought.
She spotted Harry Potter, and when a whistle blew, he swum into the lake along with the other three. He then remained at a spot where he was still above water, standing. Laughter and teasing came from the Slytherins; Astoria was more than happy to be with the Beauxbatons. She felt quite superior to those in her House who always had something cruel to say or do. She was humbled when she saw Harry grab his neck and quickly go underwater.
"What happened?" Astoria gasped. "It looked like he choked!"
"I don't think so," said Flora. "He went in the water of his own will. It wasn't like he fell or anything. Maybe he grabbed his throat as part of his plan to stay underwater."
"Oh, right…" said Astoria, and Flora and Zéphir chuckled at her.
Slowly, people began to sit down. A great disadvantage for the audience was the fact that they could not actually see the Champions at all in the murky lake. That is, with the exception of Professor Moody, who was pacing round the stands, lucky enough to see the whole event with his magical eye. Yet he seemed to miss the things right in front of him; he had stepped on Professor Snape's foot, using the wooden leg no less.
"How is the band going?" Philippe asked over the sound of Professor Snape's shouting.
"The band…" said Astoria, and the memory of her telling him about Pariah back when she had been excited slapped her in the face.
"It's still just writing and practising," Astoria said. "We're supposed to meet up with Tracey Davis's dad someday so he can give us advice about, erm, getting started…"
"Where do you have to go to see him?" he asked with interest.
"Well, I think he works at the Wizarding Wireless Network station in Diagon Alley. He rarely comes to the Hogsmeade one even though the station's based there. That's our problem. We can't just go to Diagon Alley in the middle of the school year, and he doesn't get many chances to come to the Hogsmeade location."
"He can't come on the weekends? That is when the trips are, anyway."
"We didn't really talk to him directly…"
"You might want to try that," Philippe smiled, but Astoria felt the advice was better directed towards Rhiannon.
As time went on, the students were getting tense. Twenty minutes to go, fifteen, ten, five… Astoria was terribly concerned. Even Flora looked nervously at the water, and she was the toughest girl in their year. A bell rang. It had been one hour. None of the Champions were out of the water yet, and many high-pitched sounds arose from the audience. Then, simultaneously, Cedric and Fleur emerged from the water and swam to shore. Cedric was with the girl with whom he had gone to the Yule Ball and was swimming noticeably faster than Fleur even though Fleur was not carrying anything. When Cedric, the girl, and Fleur reached the shore, the school matron, Madam Pomfrey, started fussing over them. But Fleur was screaming and crying, and she kept trying to push Madam Pomfrey away and go back in the water.
"What's wrong with her?" Zéphir asked, as though someone else knew.
"She didn't get what was stolen from her," Flora mumbled. "Astoria, you don't suppose—?"
"There is a chance it wasn't a person!" Philippe exclaimed, more to himself than the others. Now he felt it, too.
If Cedric's girlfriend was stolen, then that meant that taking hostages was not out of the question. Astoria thought they were objects that were stolen; the announcer said "something," not "someone." She hoped with all her heart that Cedric was the only one who had a person taken from him. But Fleur was so desperately trying to get back in the water. Flora sat down and watched with her hands over her mouth.
Viktor Krum then reached the surface and swam to shore with his Yule Ball date. They too were met by Madam Pomfrey. So it was people that had been taken hostage underwater… Everyone could hear Fleur crying and shouting. When Astoria got a better view of her at the water's edge, she could see that Fleur had several large red wounds on her. Astoria couldn't control her mind anymore. Fleur could have died down there. Whoever was with Fleur had drowned. Harry Potter and another person had drowned. Astoria was shaking and crying. She felt Philippe's hands in hers and several people talking to her, but she couldn't hear what they said. All she could hear was Fleur, screaming, crying, "That is my sister! LET GO OF ME! My sister is still under the water!" It was like everyone was worried, but no one was doing anything, and that was the worst thing of all. The world in front of Astoria became fuzzy and dark purple and then turned black, and she couldn't hear anything at all.
When Astoria opened her eyes, she was looking at a high ceiling with wooden beams. She felt more nauseated than she could ever remember being in her life. She was in a bed that was not nearly as comfortable as the one in her dormitory, and she had two pillows placed under her legs. She looked to the side and saw Zéphir, Philippe, and Flora. Flora looked not much better off than she.
"You fainted," Zéphir said.
"Fleur…?" Astoria uttered.
"Fleur and her sister are okay," said Philippe. "Harry and his friend are fine, too."
"Professor Dumbledore and the Tournament officials weren't going to let them die in the lake! The hostages were under a charm. If the Champions didn't get them, there are merpeople down there to bring them back to the surface," Philippe explained. "The merpeople would put spells on the Champions and bring them up, too, if it came to it."
"Well!" Astoria exclaimed. "How were we supposed to know that?"
"I know, I was worried, too," said Flora. "It didn't make sense, though, that people might die. Although, I suppose they knew what they were getting into…"
"Oh, don't say things like that, please," Astoria snapped. "Is this the Hospital Wing? How long have I been in here?"
"About a minute," Zéphir said.
"Oh."
"Cedric got first place for this one, Harry second, Viktor third, and Fleur fourth. I believe Harry and Cedric's points are equal now in the Tournament," said Zéphir.
"Points! It's enough that they haven't drowned!" Astoria cried.
She could feel her heart beating faster than usual, yet the relief that she felt was enough to make her laugh uncontrollably. Nothing felt right or organized in her head. Madam Pomfrey, looking quite exhausted, walked next to Astoria's bed. Astoria tried to contain herself.
"I didn't think we'll need a blood test, Miss Greengrass? You panicked, and you haven't had enough breakfast or water."
"Oh," said Astoria.
Madam Pomfrey had taken a hold of Astoria's hand and was squeezing her finger. It turned white, then very slowly went back to the pink shade it was.
"Stay there for about ten minutes, dear. Then you can leave. And keep your legs elevated."
"Oh… Thank you."
Rhiannon, Hestia, and Daphne arrived shortly after.
"Are you okay?" Daphne squealed, hugging Astoria.
"Yes! Yes! I just fainted, I'm fine!"
"I'd never go in that Tournament, Astoria! Putting Fleur's sister underwater! And the others' friends! Honestly!" Daphne said.
The Task seemed to have shaken Daphne up quite a bit, also. The incident with Fleur and her sister actually had Daphne in tears.
"See? I told yeh Astoria'd be fine," Rhiannon said to Hestia.
"Well, she could have hit her head when she fell!" Hestia said.
"Not at close quarters like we were in the stands," Rhiannon said impishly.
Seeing Rhiannon made Astoria feel silly. It was obvious that Rhiannon saw her as some frail thing that faints at the slightest nerves. Nothing could be further from the truth. The overwhelming headache and nausea that had come in with the tide of fear was more than Rhiannon would be willing to hear about. Philippe helped Astoria sit up. She felt even sicker in a sitting position. The sickness did go away after about ten minutes, so Astoria left with her group. She was quite content to have Philippe hold her arm on the way out, though, just in case. None of them, though, would really understand how angry and afraid she had been. It was almost like her feelings had not been her own.
Although the second Task of the tournament had only been a small part of her day, and she had only fainted for a minute or so, Astoria found herself unable to stop moping. Whilst her roommates went up to the music room to practise, she pretended she was still too light-headed to make the climb upstairs and go sing. She moped for a while in her dormitory, and then moped for a while in the common room. Daphne was fluttering all over the room and made more than one stop at Astoria's chair to chatter about cousin so-and-so's new date. That wasn't nearly as interesting as the legends of alien sightings detailed in the book Hestia had given her. Yet it was too loud in the common room to concentrate on the alien book, much less any homework, with everyone gossiping about the Triwizard Champions. Astoria decided to take a walk to get her mind off the tournament and its embarrassing effect on her stress. Philippe had gone back to the carriage with his friends after walking Astoria back from the Hospital Wing, so Astoria walked alone.
She was plenty able to climb steps. She wandered all over the castle with what daylight there was left. Each patch of sun coming in through the windows held a good amount of warmth, but it only took the smallest bit of shadow to create a longing for warmer clothes. It was never this cold at Quennell Park, even in the winter.
Astoria lost track of where she had been and had never planned out where she was going. At one turn, she found herself in a corridor with nothing but a small closet and a spiral staircase. She wondered which tower she was in as she climbed up for no particular reason. At the landing, there was a large old door with a knocker and some small chairs. Astoria first guessed that it was a teacher's quarters, but when she heard a voice, she paid more attention.
"What liquid can contain the soul?"
"What?" Astoria blurted.
"What liquid can contain the soul?"
The voice was coming from the golden eagle figure on the door. It had been fashioned in the shape of a doorknocker, though it wasn't really serving that purpose. Astoria at last used her brain to figure out she had discovered the Ravenclaw common room. She stared at the door blankly, wondering why her cousins Sofronia and Adamina had never invited her to hang out here. She frequently dined with them and the Beauxbatons at the Ravenclaw table, but their interactions were limited to that, weren't they? And here Astoria thought they would spend more time together once they all attended Hogwarts. So much for that — Astoria was perpetually available.
"What happens if I don't know the answer? Do I get cursed?"
"Of course not. You receive no entry, however," said the eagle, with more than a hint of condescension in its voice.
Astoria figured her cousins were as disappointed with her as this eagle. They had been closer growing up, but perhaps the problem wasn't that Astoria was in Slytherin — it was that she was a Slytherin.
What liquid can contain the soul? Astoria mulled on.
Rhiannon probably would have said "hot cocoa," and she would have been on to something even though that wasn't the answer.
"Hot cocoa," Astoria chuckled.
"Go back," said the eagle.
Astoria made a face and went in circles down the staircase. She admired the view of the hillside out one of the windows and realised how far up she had climbed. Being this high already, she tried to find her way to Astronomy Tower. It wasn't an easy task, since she wasn't anywhere near her usual route. The best way to get upstairs would be to pick one staircase and stay on it — if it changed, she would stand and wait for it to change back. Besides Arithmancy homework, it wasn't like she had anything better to do.
Astoria made it up to the tower at dusk. No one else appreciated this place. Astronomy was seen as essential to move up a grade but unessential for magic. It wasn't Charms or Transfiguration, which had everyday spells, and one didn't make anything in the class like in Potions or Herbology. There weren't any monsters or knockout spells to learn about, like in D.A.D.A. It was the pursuit of knowledge and the nuanced applications of it that mattered in Astronomy. Astoria breathed in the woody scent of the flambeaus lighting her way. It wasn't quite like home, but it was something closer than teenagers' overwhelming colognes and Herbology manure. Astoria wondered how late the other girls would play. She thought about making a trip to the music room next, but she couldn't bring herself to sing if she was told to.
Quit beating yourself up, she thought, but it was so easy to do. She wasn't sure that she would have been able to make friends with Flora and Hestia if they weren't in her dorm, and with the idea of Pariah being Rhiannon's chief concern, Astoria had perhaps taken Draco Malfoy's words to heart. What purpose did she serve for the band besides paying for things to get started? Sure, she had taken vocal lessons and had a strong foundation in classical training, but that probably wasn't helpful for a rock band, was it? How was she supposed to get in front of people and sing when she could barely make any friends? She was a boring sort of person. All she wanted to do was spot things in the sky, but she didn't have anybody to say, "Ooh, look at that!" to. Philippe, for one, never asked her about Astronomy. When she talked about it, he and all of her friends said "M-hmm" and nodded.
"I do want to be home again, but I couldn't do that to my family. I'd be a failure. I've already worked so hard," said a voice.
Astoria stopped climbing. The classroom door above was open, though it sounded like the conversation in there was private. There was something Astoria didn't like about the tone, but she couldn't place it. There was something too close to home in the word choice.
"It may seem like a failure to you, but there is nothing wrong with going back to being home-schooled. However, I know you wouldn't be happy if you did. You're doing a great job here."
Professor Sinistra was answering, because who else would it be in the Astronomy classroom? But Astoria was the only student who talked to Professor Sinistra about personal matters. Unless there was some N.E.W.T. student she was especially close with, this didn't make any sense. Students actively avoided Sinistra much like they did with Snape. What was worse was the subject of home-schooling. Who else had been home-schooled? Who else had been home-schooled that talked to Professor Sinistra?
"I'm sorry. Really, I'm not that great, Professor," said the awful voice. "I'm not doing a good job at all. It's always the same… You're the only one who ever saw something better in me. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you! I wouldn't be here at all!"
"Now that's not true. Your test results spoke for both your hard work and the talent you so fervently deny having," said Professor Sinistra.
Astoria's hands scrambled to hold on to the railing, and she was sweating through her shirt, cold and boiling at the same time.
What the hell?
"I'd do anything to prove myself, but I always do the wrong thing somehow. I'm sorry, Professor Sinistra. I really am. All I want to do is be home again, but…"
She sounds just like me… That's my voice. That's my voice!
Astoria didn't have the voice to prove the similarity. Her mouth was dry, and her teeth were sore and gluey. How had she ended up on this walk, anyway? How was she hearing her own worries from her own voice?
"Hey," she gasped. "Hey…"
As soon as she made noise, she begged that no one had heard it. There must have been an explanation for this. Maybe she had hit her head too hard when she fainted earlier that day. Or maybe she had already fainted again, and this was a dream. Maybe someone had got a nasty spell on her earlier, or maybe that darned Ravenclaw doorknocker had cursed her after all. Or maybe… maybe it was all coincidence! Maybe someone else had been home-schooled and found Professor Sinistra as delightful to talk to as Astoria did! It wasn't like the voice was crystal-clear anyway…
"Don't cry, dear. You have accomplished so much. You're one of my best! Just because you have a difficult time with other classes, or difficulty fitting in, that doesn't mean you should look at yourself this way. I'm very proud of you!"
"No… no… I'm awful… I'm so sorry…" the voice cracked oddly.
"Now, stop that. You're not awful. You've held your own in difficult circumstances. What would your friend Rhiannon have to say about this, hm? She doesn't think you're awful. She really looks up to you!"
"Oh, gosh, Rhiannon…" the voice cracked again, full of tears. "I can't help her!"
Astoria's mind screamed at the mention of Rhiannon. She was out of her body. Something was very, very, wrong. She tried to wake up and pinched her arms all over, but no matter how hard she tried to become sane, she was not in the classroom talking to Professor Sinistra. She really was on the stairs hearing herself talk, hearing herself cry.
She started running back down the stairs as fast as she could without falling. It would not solve the horror, but it would get her away from it. Once her feet hit the third step from the bottom, she jumped, and bolted down the corridor until she couldn't breathe. She could make it to the music room and see her normal friends and everything would be normal. Astoria glanced over her shoulder and saw the awful thing standing at the bottom of the tower already. It had her face. It had her body. It had her clothes. Astoria had already made it to the Grand Staircase and started down — she could get away from the thing.
Down, down, down…. Her ankles were beaten by the pressure of storming. If there was ever any decent time for the stairs to turn into a slide, this was it. She slammed onto the landing of the fifth floor and saw the thing coming after her from above. Rushing into the hallway, she shouted for Rhiannon. She turned into the music room and saw that they had already left. Astoria had trapped herself. She slammed the door to keep the thing out.
It had somehow been right behind her, as though it hadn't needed the staircases to move. Astoria saw the shadow of its feet under the crack of the door and nearly lost all of her dinner.
"Are you going to be all right?" came her voice through the door.
What? No, Astoria thought over the throb in her head. No, I'm not all right!
"What reason do you have to run from yourself?" the voice asked.
"What the hell are you!" Astoria screamed.
"What the hell do you think I am?" came the voice.
It was marked by sniffles and softness that was nothing but bait. The thing on the other side of the door might have looked identical to Astoria. But Astoria knew she was the real one because she was the one who didn't want the door open.
Whatever the thing was, it had a solid body, because Astoria heard it slump on to the floor and lean against the old wood of the door. She heard her own voice crying at full force, gasping out, "Aurora, Aurora, I'm sorry." Still pressing her palms against the door with all her strength, Astoria lowered herself down to the same level and held her ear against the wood. Everything sounded so real.
"What's wrong with you?" she mouthed.
"You already overheard me. I want my home back," the voice answered and cleared its throat, like it was a damaged rendition of the real thing.
Silence fell. It remained for so long that Astoria's heart even slowed. With her body calming, Astoria tried to clear her mind. In spite of how real it was, it didn't make sense. She must have had some terrible hallucination. Maybe she had hit her head when she fainted earlier that day, and she would have to go back to the Hospital Wing. It wasn't like she had an evil twin. This was the real world, and she really had to go to Astronomy class that evening. She would probably stop by her dorm after class to tell her roommates that she still wasn't feeling well, grab some things, and go to Madam Pomfrey for the night.
Still, for good measure, Astoria drew her wand before opening the door. Though on the other side, her body and face were right in front of her, splattered wet with tears and holding its hands toward her. Making eye contact with herself was the worst thing Astoria had experienced in her thirteen years. It was a like something that had crawled out of a mirror.
Madam Pomfrey had accused Astoria of being dehydrated earlier, and it was all because Astoria couldn't find her water bottle that morning. It was no wonder she couldn't find it: it was in the hands and the mouth of this fiend. Even taken by surprise mid-drink, the fake Astoria was faster.
"Confundo," the false thing said, but Astoria hadn't heard it over the sound of her scream.
Astoria was in the music room. She tried to think about why. Then she remembered. She had spent a long time talking with Professor Sinistra, and had figured the professor needed some time to prepare before class. It was a good thing Astoria already had grabbed her materials for Astronomy, since she had been out later than expected. It was probably time to head back upstairs. She left the music room. It was a bit embarrassing to have cried in front of the professor, but she felt much better and wasn't even sure why she had cried in the first place.
"Oh, there you are."
Draco Malfoy looked to be waiting for her at the end of the hall.
"I didn't see you walk up to class. I figured you would be here, singing off-key and all that other fun stuff," he said.
"I didn't get to sing today, whether off-key or not," Astoria responded sarcastically.
She didn't see any reason to be more standoffish. She and Draco were both going the same direction, after all.
"Hey, erm…" he started, giving her a strange look.
"Yes?"
"Are you okay? You seem… I don't know… really stunned or something. I heard you passed clean out. I didn't know you were of such frail constitution, Greengrass."
"Very funny."
"No, seriously, are you okay?" Draco asked again, this time more earnest.
"I'm fine, thank you. I'll make it through class."
"We're twenty minutes into class, Astoria," Draco informed her.
The puzzled look on her face didn't help her case that she was feeling perfectly fine. It was a little difficult to look right at Draco after he delivered that information. She must have dozed off in the music room without any disturbance and spitting from Rhiannon's amplifier.
"Now, wait one minute. Did you come looking for me?" Astoria teased.
"Sinistra made me," Draco answered.
"You volunteered," she said.
Draco shrugged.
"Who else's chair am I supposed to kick in this economy? Tracey would have my throat."
Astoria smiled to herself and apologised to Professor Sinistra for being late. The professor gave her a knowing look, considering their conversation earlier, and excused her tardiness. The night passed without event, although Astoria was somehow unable to find her water bottle and a clean uniform the next morning.