Book 3: Astoria Greengrass and the Legilimens of Hogwarts

Song rec: "Laura" by Phox

"There you have it — front page. The whole lot of 'em's on the way to Azkaban."

Rhiannon Clarke laid the copy of the Evening Prophet back on one of the glossy tables in the Greengrass family's enormous library. She intended to read it within the hour before dinner, but at the moment, she was more curious to see what her best friend was reading with such concentration.

"Rhiannon, what is an Inferius?" asked Astoria Greengrass, whose fingernails were fraying the edges of the latest leaflet sent by the Ministry of Magic.

"It's basically a zombie," Rhiannon replied.

Astoria looked up for a moment, nodded unconvincingly, and looked to the leaflet once more, futilely turning it over to the blank side in the hopes that there was more information. Rhiannon inferred that the word "zombie" was not part of Wizarding lingo. Astoria was too embarrassed to admit that the explanation did not reach her.

"Scary thought, Inferi," Rhiannon said. "Y'know, even if I was a Dark witch, I think I'd skip the Inferi. Don't got it in me to order corpses about. And I'll bet they niff something awful."

Astoria looked horrified; Rhiannon knew she had made the matter clear.

Life at Quennell Park was something Rhiannon had got used to in a matter of hours. Though she felt as though she were a foreign component, she enjoyed the luxuries of her host family's house so immensely that she wanted to think of no other time in her life. She had stayed there before, but her last trip had been wrecked by romantic drama. This time, she could appreciate it all. A mere doorknob in Quennell Park put the entirety of Rhiannon's former flat to shame. Everything was so remarkably clean that Rhiannon never had a difficult time finding her reflection. The very best part was that no one at the estate was ever high, drunk, or trying to hurt her. If it wasn't for You-Know-Who's being on the loose, Rhiannon felt she would not have a care in the world. Then again, if he wasn't out there, she might still be in London with her abusive mother. Indeed, the worst thing that the lady of this house had ever done was persuade Rhiannon to press flowers with her and her daughters whilst she complained that her book club was no longer meeting on account of the war.

Those days that Rhiannon had spent at the estate that summer had been running together when, normally, she would have been counting the days until her return to Hogwarts. At Quennell Park, she was eating as few as three and as many as five meals per day. She and Astoria passed the time jamming in the music room, playing in the game room, reading in the library, and enjoying the weather in the spectacular gardens. Rhiannon even had the opportunity to go horse riding for the first time in her life. The only shortage of luxury was that there was no place to swim. Rhiannon suggested to Astoria that the family get a pool, since it couldn't be a difficult task with magic. Astoria shot the idea down.

"Don't like swimming because it gets your hair wet?" Rhiannon goaded.

"No, we have a ghost who roams the grounds, remember?" Astoria said, tying up a small book of pressed flowers.

Rhiannon figured a ghost would spoil any pool party, but Astoria looked at it differently, saying, "He might take offence."

"Really? I never seen a ghost here."

"My parents and Daphne try not to cross paths."

"Huh. Well, ghosts aren't like Inferi. They won't harm you," Rhiannon tried to comfort her. "Think of Professor Binns!"

Rhiannon thought Astoria's parents had been scaring her unnecessarily because they liked to keep her under their thumbs. Astoria didn't acknowledge the connection between her ghost and Professor Binns, yet she did not need comforting anyway.

"Oh, I know," she said behind her flowers. "I've always talked to him."

"What's troubling you, dear?" Mrs Ciel-Greengrass asked Astoria over one of the many meals that looked bizarre but tasted great.

Rhiannon knew it had to be the Inferi, but Astoria was not going to admit to her parents and grandparents that she had read anything that disturbed her. Astoria's older sister, Daphne, did not care to read anything other than letters from her friends. With Astoria, though, the Greengrasses felt it was necessary to outright discourage her from keeping up with current events. In fact, she would not have known anything about the news if it hadn't been for Rhiannon snatching Astoria's grandfather's Prophets. Astoria made an excuse about being tired at the table.

"You haven't been reading the obits, have you?" Rhiannon asked when she saw Astoria lingering on the page in question on her balcony.

She felt guilty for giving a sheltered girl like Astoria the whole newspaper at once. Then again, she didn't exactly want to play the older sister role in the absence of Daphne's interest.

"I always read the whole newspaper," Astoria responded distractedly.

"Know anybody?" Rhiannon asked.

Astoria gave her a hard look that meant Rhiannon had said something loutish.

"As it happens," Astoria said quietly, and then she stopped. Her eyes scanned words Rhiannon at once needed to know. Astoria handed over the paper in a frustrated manner; Rhiannon had leaned too far over her. Yet once Rhiannon had the obituaries in her hands, she found that nobody's name jumped out at her.

"Astoria, who died?"

"Draco's grandfather."

Only then did Rhiannon spot the old Malfoy's write-up. She did not care to read it. The article a few pages back regarding the upcoming release of her band's album, Fylth, took precedence over the obituary of someone who hated Muggle-borns, and, therefore, hated her.

"The funeral is Friday," Astoria mentioned.

"Mmm," Rhiannon grunted. She spotted the advertisement for their album and perked up, saying, "Look!" to Astoria.

"Yes, I saw."

"You didn't say anything."

"Well, we know when it's being released, don't we?"

"You and Abraxas Malfoy were real close, were you?" Rhiannon said, irritated.

First of all, Astoria had given up sleep the night before recording Fylth to spend time with Draco Malfoy, a bloke who had always raced to the finish line of the idiot marathon. Secondly, Astoria chose to help Draco out of several bad hexes at the start of summer instead of meeting Professor Lupin, Rhiannon's all-time favourite teacher. With those two incidents fresh in mind and several more offenses tucked back in her memories, Rhiannon was going to be the first to tell Astoria that she was not getting lugged off to some racist's funeral. Astoria did not take the reprimand very well.

"I think Draco would show up to my grandfather's funeral if, Heaven forbid, he were to pass."

"Astoria, the whole country would attend your grandfather's funeral so they could squeeze their names on the visitor's list," Rhiannon responded, and since Astoria knew she was right, she again told her family that nothing was wrong when they asked her at dinner.

Rhiannon's sleep at Quennell Park was always deep, restorative, and undisturbed, so when she heard the sound of knocking at her window late that night, she sprang awake with the notion that the Death Eaters had come to lynch her. If only she had closed the curtains…

"Open the window, Rhi," a girl's barely audible voice called through the glass.

Rhiannon had her wand drawn but, since the glass would create a glare, she was relying on the light of the visitor's wand to discern her identity. All signs pointed to Hestia, but Rhiannon was painfully conscious of the powers of Polyjuice Potion and was anything but keen to open the window. On top of that, the visitor's hair was four times longer than it had been not a week ago.

"What's my middle name?" Rhiannon asked for lack of a better inspection.

"Nicole," the visitor shouted in order to be heard.

"What song did we write together on our album?" Rhiannon grilled.

"What?"

"I said, what song did we write together on Fylth?"

"None," the visitor responded sulkily.

With her wand still aimed at the window, Rhiannon backed away and opened the top drawer of one of her bedside tables. A broken piece of Foe-Glass showed no new shadows, and Rhiannon promptly unfastened the locks and opened her window.

"What's wrong, Hestia? You in hot water at home or something?"

With a weather-beaten broom from the seventies in hand, Hestia senselessly tiptoed into the bedroom as if the sound of walking was sure to awaken anyone who had not already heard the girls shouting through the glass.

"I'm always in hot water at home," Hestia remarked.

"They kicked you out?"

"I kicked myself out for the night. They won't let me write anyone."

By "they," Rhiannon knew that Hestia meant her violent aunt and uncle and not her father. It saddened Rhiannon to know that the only time Hestia could leave the house safely was at such a ridiculous hour. It reminded Rhiannon of all the times she had to camp out at the flat of her Muggle friend, P.R.

"Charmed your hair back?" she asked. Hestia's hair had been cut to nearly nothing by accident, but Rhiannon had thought she was going to keep it that way.

"They took one look at me," Hestia said. "They said they need me to look like Flora — 'in case.' I don't know what You-Know-Who would want with a couple of fifteen-year-olds. It's not like we can hold up Gringotts just because we look alike. But they must have some ideas, because they threatened to hex my face thinner and burn the inside of Flora's wrist so we'd look exactly the same."

Rhiannon swallowed. She didn't know Hestia had a burn on her wrist, and she hoped the reason she hadn't noticed it was because it wasn't a bad one.

"Who burnt you?"

"Oh, don't worry. It was the rim of a cauldron. It's only a little scar."

Hestia put her broom against the wall and sat in the chair by the vanity. She picked up the hand mirror and quickly sneered at her reflection for no good reason. Nearby, there was a cluster of little tins and decoratively cut glass containers that Hestia examined next.

"You could put all sorts of potions ingredients in these," she said. "What's in 'em, face powders? Rich person dust?"

"Er, I guess so."

Hestia sprayed one of the atomisers she had spotted and immediately regretted releasing the pungent, twenty-year-old formula. Walking away from the affected area, she glanced at the cameos on the wall and appreciated one particular watercolour of a woodland scene before nearly toppling over the quilt rack.

"Did you get to pick your room?" she asked.

"Yeah," Rhiannon said. "I, er, basically picked the one with the most knickknacks in it."

Hestia turned and looked at Rhiannon through the net of one of many dreamcatchers on the bedposts. In that moment, Rhiannon thought she heard people speaking in the distance. When she tried to heighten her senses to the sound, though, it did not come back. She really hoped that she did not wake Astoria's parents up; guests receiving guests at a quarter past midnight was naturally frowned upon.

"They don't need this much space," Hestia commented.

"Apparently, the whole family used to live here, so I guess it wasn't as bad," Rhiannon recalled from a conversation with Astoria. "I'm told Asenath's parents used to have this room."

"Oh. Asenath. Lovely," Hestia said sharply.

"I didn't know that when I picked the room. I only liked all the stuff they left behind," Rhiannon said because she thought she ought to explain herself.

"Well, they have the money to leave their things behind," grunted Hestia. "Speaking of money, Alecto and Amycus took all of mine and Flora's cash again."

"What? How? It's in your vaults…" Rhiannon questioned over the definite sound of someone's footsteps down the hall. She reached for the fluffy, cotton robe she was provided with, which she usually forgot to wear, and put it on for fear that the high-society people would be offended by the sight of her pyjamas.

"They said they'd hurt Dad if we didn't withdraw it all. We have to do it each month until we go to school. Then we have to take it out during Christmas and Easter holidays. They give us a fraction."

Rage boiled in Rhiannon's veins, but it didn't provide her with any solutions. People that manipulate others tend to know exactly how to prevent justice from being handed to them.

"Don't tell Astoria. She'll get all weird about it," Hestia alleged. "Really, no one can do anything. But I wanted you to know why our bank statements aren't going to be bringing smiles to our faces anymore."

"A-All right. Hestia, I'm sorry…" Rhiannon exhaled. She wanted to tell Hestia that the problem would be solved one day, but that was an insultingly baseless statement.

"You're kidding. Silk pillowcases?" Hestia said distractedly, running her fingers across the fabric.

Just then, Rhiannon heard the door to her personal sitting room open and more than one person run in. The noise startled both girls into only the sorriest of defensive stances, and when they came face-to-face with two Aurors, they had no choice but to shut up and drop the wands which they couldn't legally use anyway.

"Hominem Revelio," the taller Auror said through the cloth of his mask.

As Rhiannon knew, no other presence was there, but the gravity of her blunder was crowding her instead.

"Where are you keeping Rhiannon Clarke?" demanded the other Auror.

"Tonks? Tonks, it's me! It's Rhiannon!" she responded, putting her arms down.

It was the wrong move. Both Aurors cast the Full-Body Bind curse on the girls, but only Hestia was lucky enough to fall on the bed. Rhiannon hit the floor.

"Whadda we got on the Carrows?" the male Auror asked, stepping toward Hestia.

"Nothing different from what we've ever had," Tonks said frustratedly.

"This Carrow might not be under Polyjuice."

"We don't have time to wait for Polyjuice either way. We have to test them both."

Tonks waved her wand across Rhiannon's face.

"Talk."

"It's me!" Rhiannon insisted. "Hestia came to the window. She's my friend! I let her in! She lives ages from here and came by broom!"

"What's your Ministry of Magic Identification Number?"

Damn it.

"I'm sorry; I don't remember, but you gotta believe it's me. This is an honest mistake! Where's the Greengrasses?"

"We'd better get this test going," Tonks said to her companion. "I've got this under control. You go help search the area."

The other Auror left, and Tonks moved toward Rhiannon's bedside carafe, using Scarpin's Revelaspell to discern that it was, in fact, water. Rhiannon was beyond exasperated with the situation and wished that Tonks would listen to her so that everyone could carry on with their night. Tonks poured a glass of water and added a phial of blue liquid before giving it to Rhiannon.

"Drink this."

"You really need truth serum to believe me? Come on, you and me met at King's Cross the other day!"

"This isn't truth serum. It's a diuretic," Tonks said sternly. "Drink it."

"What?"

"It's new. We have to test you for Polyjuice Potion — get cracking."

It could have tasted awful, Rhiannon thought, trying as hard as she could to look on the bright side whilst she had no choice but to jimmy in a cup. Hestia had been given the same evaluation, and both girls turned up clean. They were then ushered into the drawing room where a very weary Astoria was directed to ask specific, personal questions of both girls and report to the trio of Aurors how accurate their answers were. One of the most important questions asked, coming from Mr Greengrass himself, was how Hestia had known that Rhiannon was at the estate — the information was supposed to be strictly confidential.

"She told Astoria she'd be with her after seeing Professor Lupin when we were at King's Cross," Hestia answered nervously. "I saw her leave with all of you. I guessed she was staying here for at least a while. She's never been that happy on the trip back to London…"

"How did you know which room she was in?" Tonks pressed.

"I didn't. I, er, looked in some windows…" Hestia said in a way that told everyone she had looked in nearly all the windows that did not have the curtains drawn.

Astoria, her parents, and her grandparents all gave Rhiannon and Hestia very harsh looks, much like the one Daphne had already been giving them. To top off the awful feeling Rhiannon had been cultivating, not a soul in the house was laughing about the matter once the whole ordeal was finished. Tonks went beyond the call of duty to comfort Mrs Ciel-Greengrass, who had been in a panic attack for nearly an hour. Daphne stormed off to bed after giving Rhiannon the worst look she could etch onto her porcelain face, and Mr Greengrass spent the better part of fifteen minutes lecturing Rhiannon about security and criticising Hestia for having this idea in the first place. With the Aurors gone, Astoria's grandmother, Mrs Mosby-Greengrass, mumbled that the house-elves would see to "our ill-timed guest" and that she was going back to sleep. Mr Greengrass demanded that Hestia leave by Floo powder for her safety and implied that he was really beyond caring how long she intended to stay. Once he and the other adults retired and once Dimsie and Prissy had provided Rhiannon, Hestia, and Astoria with milk and biscuits, Rhiannon felt that she had no will to do anything but go back to sleep herself.

"So," Hestia said into a room of silence, "nice Intruder Charms you have here."

The comment granted Rhiannon a chuckle, but Astoria shook her head in annoyance.

"I haven't even had the chance to ask you if you were in danger. What are you doing here?" Astoria asked.

"Well, I thought I'd pop in and see if you needed your pillow fluffed."

"Hestia!"

"Listen, me and Flora lost communication privileges. They're driving me mad. I had to get out for a night."

Astoria groaned.

"You know I never meant to break into your house," Hestia added.

"I know — I know," sighed Astoria, and she drank her milk as though she wished something else was in it.

"I'm sorry for waking everyone up. But I paid my price — I peed in the cup."

"What are you talking about?" asked Astoria.

"They tested Rhi and me for Polyjuice. Too bad I left mine at home, or this fabulous night might never have ended."

"You don't mean you've made your own Polyjuice Potion," Astoria gasped. "They'll arrest you if they find something like that!"

"If I get arrested, they'll have to bring in Amycus and Alecto, too, won't they?" Hestia thought longingly. "Don't give me ideas."

"For what would you want a Polyjuice Potion?" asked Astoria, still flabbergasted.

"For what would I want half the stuff I make?" Hestia wondered. "I made an aphrodisiac the other day that turns your skin purple. I sold it in Knockturn for two Galleons a flask, without my usual labelling."

"I wonder if your buyers had the evening they planned," Rhiannon laughed.

"Depends on what their sweethearts' favourite colours are," Hestia said.

Astoria's covered her mouth with her hands as if the gesture could stop the other girls from speaking so vulgarly, or at least that was how Rhiannon read her body language. Astoria surprised her, though, and revealed that she hadn't really been listening when she started pouring out questions about Polyjuice Potion again.

"How long does it last?"

"The aphrodisiac‽" Hestia hooted.

"What…? No, no, the Polyjuice Potion you brewed."

"Oh, it's chewing gum. It'll only last as long as the flavour does — about fifteen minutes. I got about two-hundred pieces out of what I brewed over last Christmas. See, I didn't let it simmer long enough, and so I thought, why not concentrate it? Mix in a little mastic? It's the worst-tasting gum in the universe, and you have to keep swallowing hair, which is anything but easy, but it works."

"Hestia, you're a genius!" Astoria exclaimed about the same time Rhiannon was thinking it.

"I'm actually just really bored," said Hestia.

"No, no, this is great," Astoria said, coming out of her drowsiness. "Listen, I have an idea…"

"You have an idea?" Hestia asked, stunned. "What would a Greengrass want with such a disgraceful product?"

"You and I both want out of the house," Astoria said grippingly. "Let's switch places for a day."

"What? Are you serious?" asked Hestia.

"Where are you going?" Rhiannon inserted.

Astoria lowered her voice before saying, "Your aunt and uncle surely wouldn't mind if you went to a Malfoy's funeral, would they?"

"Astoria, no!" Rhiannon heaved. "This is getting ridiculous. That's too risky, especially for Hestia."

"Eh, it's more risky for Astoria than it is for me. My family was going to old Malfoy's funeral anyway," Hestia revealed. "But I don't think you could pass for me. I'm different when I'm not round you lot."

"Then tell me how you are," Astoria said simply.

"Quiet," Hestia said. "But wait till you see Flora. She's practically a statue round Amycus and Alecto. You're not going to be in tune to her enough."

"Then let her know it's me."

"She'll find out anyway; she's my twin. But if I let her know beforehand, she won't have it. I can't even let her know I came here tonight; she'd go right off her rocker. Why don't you go yourself? Not allowed?"

"I'm not even allowed to ask," Astoria answered dramatically.

"This is outrageous," Rhiannon said again, but no one was listening to her.

"I'll be back tomorrow night with the gum," Hestia said, fond of the prospect of some excitement. "How do I get in without setting off any alarms?"

"The Floo Network during calling hours," said Astoria. "Here, take some extra powder so that your aunt and uncle don't see yours deplete.

"Oh, this is excellent! We can brief each other about how to act!" Hestia said brightly.

"Really…? We're really doing this," Rhiannon scowled.

"We get to spend the day together, Rhi," Hestia smiled. "I didn't want to go to that funeral anyway."

"Well, I'm going back to sleep. Thank you so much, Hestia. I'll see you tomorrow night. Goodnight all," Astoria said.

When Rhiannon heard the girl walking up the stairs, she whispered to Hestia, "What's up with her and this funeral?"

"Draco's always smarmed round her," Hestia said. "He's been even smarmier to her than he was to Umbridge last year."

"I know that, but… do you think he really fancies her?"

"I wouldn't think so. If you grow up in the Wizarding world, you know to play up to a blueblood Greengrass. Besides, he's dating Parkinson."

"Because Parkinson is a real prize over Astoria."

"Well, no, but she doesn't room with Muggle-borns and have Squibs over for Christmas, does she? Malfoy's fond enough of Parkinson."

"He looks at Astoria."

"Yeah, so did you, Rhiannon," Hestia said unwarrantedly.

"I—"

"Who cares anyhow? It's their business if they want to fuss over each other. That's what rich people do — they fuss."

Hestia ate the last of her biscuits and started a much-desired conversation about their album which lasted until they were both ready for sleep. Hestia gave Rhiannon a rather agreeable hug goodbye before retrieving her broom from Rhiannon's room.

"Hestia? The fireplace's in here — er, one of them is," Rhiannon said when Hestia made for the front doors.

"Floo travel's too noisy for this hour, Rhi. It's best I go back the way I came."

"I don't think it's best," Rhiannon protested. "I think it's dangerous."

"Everything is dangerous," Hestia said with a grin.

She kicked off her flight in the Greengrasses' front gardens, the intermittent moonlight being her fickle guide home.