Book 3: Astoria Greengrass and the Legilimens of Hogwarts
Song rec: "Minuit Chrétien" performed by Emilie Charette
"You telling me you're not coming to the match?"
Astoria averted Rhiannon's black treacle eyes and tried to look busy with Arithmancy homework.
"I know what it is," Flora chirruped. "Harper is filling in for Draco today and—"
"Rubbish, Flora," Rhiannon dismissed but still tried to stare through Astoria.
"You'd have finished that assignment already if—" Flora retried.
"If I hadn't been trying so hard to write music," Astoria finished.
"C'mon, Flora, leave her alone. We need to get choice seats," said Rhiannon.
Their demo day in the WWN had proved to be disastrous. Their manager, Leonard Mongaby, had news from "above" that since the girls weren't able to tour over the summer and had poor reviews on Fylth, they needed to release more EPs rather than albums. It would be cheaper for everyone. Plans for the full album were scrapped before their eyes, and their ten demos were cut down to four by Mr Davis, their producer. Astoria was past the point of caring much; her time spent on songs felt wasted and she didn't feel like she could ever write another one.
In contrast to her musical career, Astoria might have — just might have — become too comfortable in Astronomy. She felt like she had had enough information in her head for five people instead of one, but the practical portions of the class had yet to start. The second Tuesday in November was when she finally made a mistake in Professor Sinistra's class, choosing to read an arithmancy book about Fibonacci numbers instead of take notes. Only two minutes into class, Professor Sinistra Summoned Astoria's book to the front of the room.
"Ten points from Slytherin, and hopefully, your ego, Miss Greengrass."
"I—"
"You like complicated reads? Have a go at this one," Professor Sinistra said moodily, pointing her wand at her desk.
An unwieldy volume soon thudded atop Astoria's materials, creasing her maps. The Ravenclaw table sniggered.
"You'll be tested on it in detention next Wednesday at 4 o'clock."
"Professor, I'm very—" Astoria pleaded.
"Very free at that hour, I'm aware," Professor Sinistra retorted and continued lecturing.
Astoria and Draco shared a look of surprise. That was overkill. Astoria's nose reached over the book, but there was no title. Very discreetly, Astoria slid a finger under the black cover to open it, but it wouldn't budge. How was she to read a book that wouldn't even open? It wasn't like she was going to ask the professor what spell it required after all that.
"Here — give me the book," Draco said on their way back from class.
Something possessed him to still try to open the book physically at first, but he soon drew his wand and cast a slew of charms on it to no effect.
"You were studying Arithmancy when she blew her top, right? Maybe there's some kind of numeric code to open it."
Astoria tried the most obvious thing first: 6-7-5-5 for "OPEN," but it did nothing. She tried the sum of those numbers, and their simplification. She tried the code for "READ." She even tried drawing a Fibonacci series. Nothing. On a different note, she remembered that Draco had helped her with wand-writing the previous year. She would have been far behind in both Arithmancy and Charms without him. She almost felt like thanking him again, just because. Could she do it without being awkward?
At once, the book turned pink and said "AWWW!"
"What on Earth…?" Astoria gasped, holding the book away from her.
The book gasped, too, not changing colour.
"That's odd," said Draco, taking the book.
It turned black again, making no noise or motion.
"Theodore!" Draco called to the front of the procession.
Theodore halted and waited for the two to catch up.
"Have a look at this," Draco said, handing him the book.
Theodore tried to open it ineffectually. Then, the book tilted sideways slightly in his hand, saying "Hmm?"
Theodore handed it back to Astoria, keeping a close eye on it.
"Well, you're never going to figure out how to open it if you two keep taking breaks to go snog on the way back from class," he immediately accused.
"Sorry, what…?"
The book turned scarlet and started to squeal.
"Quick — pass me the book!" Theodore demanded.
Astoria all but threw it at him. When he caught it, it turned a mischievous green and started howling with laughter.
"What we have here," Theodore said through a laugh of his own, "is a Legilimency book."
"Legilimency. Really?" Draco questioned.
"I thought — Isn't that a Dark art?" stammered Astoria.
"It is if you make it one," Theodore replied. "Sorry about the snogging joke, but I wanted to see if the book would be as embarrassed as you!"
The book laughed anew, broadcasting that Theodore wasn't sorry at all.
"Shut this thing up, Draco," Theodore said. "I'm not in the mood to."
Once the book touched Draco's fingers, it went quiet again.
"Draco has no feelings, you see," Theodore said.
"You may go now," Draco hissed faintly.
"Oh, you're welcome," Theodore said, hopping to the front of the line again.
"He didn't help us open this at all," Draco said, not looking at Astoria.
He was embarrassed. But why wasn't the book reacting to Draco? Was he unwell? Was he blocking his emotions? Astoria decided not to comment on it and act like Theodore had never said anything.
"It's a Legilimency book," she said, "so what is the spell for Legilimency?"
"Legilimens. Just point your wand," Draco said. "It's hard to cast, though. I don't know why she'd give you a book like this."
He was getting more nervous, even if the book wasn't showing it. Astoria slid her schoolbag off her shoulder and into his hands, then took the book from him. He didn't object to any of it except the "Stand back" she said when she was about to cast the spell.
"Your wand's mad, Astoria. What if you Confund yourself?"
"Then I am Professor Sinistra's liability," Astoria brushed off.
She had quite the grudge against the book for squealing at the mention of — ugh.
"Legilimens!"
In one hand, Astoria could tell that the heavy book definitely did not open. Her other hand steadied her on the wall of the tower. She was trying to look at the book, but it didn't seem the same. The idea of chapters upon chapters fluttered through her head like they were waiting to be grabbed, but there were no words. It was hard to concentrate on one chapter. Could she run back and beg Professor Sinistra for a normal old book?
Astoria tried desperately for chapter one rather than the preface, but the two must have merged somewhere in her mind, and she ended up being profoundly bored.
"Look at you," Draco commended once Astoria let the book be.
She wondered how long she had been out of it. The book started to turn pink again. Draco returned her schoolbag to her, but there wasn't enough room for the dreadful book to be put away. Draco smiled about the vibrant blush growing on its cover. He stared at her, perhaps wondering if she'd defend herself.
"I think you ought to be the one who carries this," Astoria said resolutely.
He didn't take the book; he only put his hand on it. The book couldn't reach his mysteries, and its colour faded where he touched it. He cleared his throat.
"For the record, it's only doing this because—" Draco started.
"You're an Occlumens," Astoria finished. "I read — er — learnt about that from the book."
His eyes told her nothing like the book said that most eyes would. All they revealed was that he was an expert Occlumens, and that nothing was leaving his psyche unless he let it.
"On another note, I won't be able to help you with Transfiguration anymore. D.A.D.A. is becoming a nuisance. I can manage Astronomy now, though," he said.
Reading Astoria's mood, the book started to turn a disenchanted blue, but Draco smiled rather proudly at her when he saw it.
"Oh, just take the stupid book, Draco!"
Instead, he let go entirely and sped down the staircase so that she knew not to follow. A single syllable of laughter rolled back up to meet her. Astoria glared at the Legilimency book that had been her undoing, but the place where Draco's hand had touched was dark red, not black. Astoria stared blankly for a moment, and then understood that dark red was one of those colours that good friends ought to talk to each other about. Yet Astoria couldn't mention it to her good friends at all.
Rhiannon was busy studying D.A.D.A. when Astoria came into the dorm.
"Er, what is it with professors giving us books in other subjects?" Astoria whispered.
She felt like she had a thousand words on her tongue, but if Flora woke up, sleep would not bless that dorm for the rest of the night.
"Professor Snape gave you English composition, and Professor Sinistra gave me Legilimency," Astoria said. "On top of that, they still both think I should be able to produce a Patronus by now."
Rhiannon shrugged and said, "They're in cahoots."
She poked her shard of Foe-Glass, which had found a new home on a plate stand.
"'Cahoots?' You don't mean they're in the Foe-Glass…?"
"Eh? No, no. But you know, I could've sworn I seen Draco a few times in there."
Rhiannon paused, then emitted a nervous laugh which threatened to wake Flora.
"I reckon he likes it in there," Rhiannon said, poking the glass again.
Twinkles delivered two short letters to Astoria the next morning. One had been composed on her father's stationery, and the other had been scribbled onto coffee-stained parchment. Having been receiving more letters from her parents than she could count, Astoria opened the unfamiliar letter first.
Astoria,
I actually thought the textbook would interest you. No detention. Best "read" it in private so no one thinks I'm picking favourites. I'd like you to get to at least chapter three by next week.
A.S.
"She must think I have all this time to do what she wants. You know, I've only made it to the Astronomy library to work on my Patronus twice so far? Now this!"
"Good ol' Sinistra," said Rhiannon. "She looks out for us! She was only pulling your leg."
"She still took points from Slytherin," Astoria said.
"Oooooh," Rhiannon mocked, "Don't let no first years know."
Astoria opened her father's letter.
Dear Astoria,
Good morning. It is usually this time of year when your mother and I prepare the guest list for the Christmas banquet. Unfortunately, on account of the war, our celebration will be quite small. Maman's side of the family will be joining us in heart rather than in person, and we are only inviting a few non-relatives. I may need to tell Daphne not to advertise our banquet this year, but I trust you understand.
With love,
Father
Astoria was used to large Christmases. It wasn't that she had considered adding to the guest list this early, but she felt bittersweet about how different the upcoming Christmas would be from the previous one. Back then, Rhiannon had fewer grudges, and Draco's family wasn't totally disgraced. Neither Rhiannon nor the Malfoys were on the guest list this year. The Greengrasses were in charge of Rhiannon, and contrarily, the Malfoys would probably never set foot in Quennell Park again.
With her own family's Christmas being private, Astoria was on the lookout for any festivities she could attend at school. For a time, there was nothing interesting, so Astoria, Rhiannon, and Flora made a day out of concocting festive boiled sweets for their professors under Hestia's careful instruction.
"I hope they don't think we're trying to butter them up for good marks," Flora said as she tied a snowflake-patterned bow around the jar of sweets for Professor Burbage.
"Nah, me and Astoria bought the teachers all sorts of gifts last year. Even Snape thanked us. A little holiday cheer don't hurt."
By the end of the week, Rhiannon and Hestia reported that Professor Hagrid had been the most delighted by the sweets of all, whereas Flora said that she had spotted Professor Snape using the sweets to trap infesting doxies.
"As long as they're used somehow, it counts as a good present," said Astoria.
Soon, word of Professor Slughorn's Christmas party started spreading like snowdrifts. Astoria was still technically allowed in the Slug Club, although she and her friends had missed a helping of dinners based on when they anticipated being bored. In any case, each of them could invite someone to the Christmas party. There was no way on earth that Astoria could bring Draco, but she didn't need to. All she needed was to mention it when Parkinson wasn't nearby. That way he would know.
With the exception of breakfast time, it was rare that Astoria saw Draco during the day. She only found him accidentally, when he was alone in a corridor on her way back from Ancient Runes. He looked spectral in the sunlight, as though it passed through him instead of gracing his blond hair. When his greeting echoed in the corridor, it only added to the effect of his haunt. Astoria sat on a windowsill, and he joined her without demur.
"Professor Slughorn is hosting a Christmas party on the twentieth," she said.
Draco stared out the windows parallel and said, "Have fun, then."
"I would invite you," Astoria declared. "I would have already invited you."
Draco smirked, but he didn't hold his head high. Instead, he gazed at the floor.
"If Pansy heard of it…" Astoria said, wanting to conclude with, "she'd hang my shrunken head on her bedpost." Instead, she tensely said, "I'd be in a proper fix, wouldn't I?"
"Yeah, I'd say we both would," Draco considered.
The silence that followed was too deliberate. Two years of knowing each other swam through Astoria's head. About half was good. About half was bad. But they really should have said how they felt by this point, since they both knew. As usual, though, Pansy Parkinson smudged the images in Astoria's daydreams.
"Why are you…?" Astoria dared. "And Pansy, er…"
Draco shifted uncomfortably, but Astoria had to say it. She wasn't about to be Draco's "backup," after all, like she had been for Philippe.
"I don't see you together very much. But I have heard her complain about that lately, and I get the impression that she's actually more needy than lonely. To tell the truth, I used to think you two had a lot in common, but she's kind of stayed in the same place since I met her, and you've, er…"
He started to laugh but snuffed it out and stood up.
"You know I'd ruin your perfect little life, right?"
His voice shrivelled and soured as he paced.
"My family, your family — it's just a really bad time, Astoria. I could be selfish, you know. I could say, 'I'll meet you for dinner at eight on the night the war's over.' But I won't do that to you. You shouldn't even be in this country."
"I think I can manage," Astoria argued because it sounded like he was putting up walls.
"Yeah, all those dead people in the papers thought they could manage, too. He knows my father, Astoria. He knows my aunt. How long do you think it'll take him to find you if we get involved? Ten minutes, Astoria. No, five minutes."
"All right, Draco."
Astoria hated the way he was turning her down. It was so apologetic. So full of addictive "what ifs."
"It's a bad time, that's all," he stressed.
"I know, Draco."
He stopped pacing and looked at her vacantly. He walked away with his hands in his pockets. Knowing that the feeling was mutual brought Astoria no happiness. It made sense that Draco couldn't be with her, but that didn't mean he had to stay with Parkinson. Obviously, he wanted to stay in his comfort zone.
With pain came inspiration. Astoria modified and finished the piece she had played for Draco, which also had been one of the demos picked by Mr Davis. The song was finally angry enough for Rhiannon not to complain about its sound, however suspicious she might become of the lyrics.
Astoria invited Montel Davis to Slughorn's party because she knew he wouldn't make a big deal of it. She suggested that Hestia go together with Rhiannon, but Hestia couldn't handle that.
"We're already both going! That's way too obvious if I ask," she fretted.
"'Obvious' isn't always a bad thing, Hestia," Astoria sighed.
The day of the party was also the day Pariah had to record their EP. The task was more exhausting than usual, with Rhiannon rejecting even more takes than Mr Davis. When the job was finished, they barely had enough energy to get ready for the party. Getting the twins out of the dormitory became a thorny task once they opened the parcels with their dresses in them. The dresses sent from home were outright hideous, with collars that might have sprouted beaks and flown away had they not been sewed onto ready-to-wear slabs of green. They were identical, that is, totally disrespectful to twins in their teens. Clearly, their aunt had sent them. Flora eventually decided that food and gossip were more important than what she wore, but Hestia would not come.
"Just throw on something else," Rhiannon said.
"I don't have anything else. This is the only formal outfit I have here! It's better not to go than to go in plain robes… or this thing! Alecto did this on purpose. I can't do it."
Rhiannon looked at Flora, who shrugged, and they started to leave. With Hestia sulking stomach-down on her bed, Astoria caught Rhiannon's attention without Hestia noticing.
"Hm?" Rhiannon enquired monosyllabically.
Astoria gestured toward Hestia. Rhiannon spread her arms as if to say, "What do you want me to do?" Trying hard not to alert Hestia, Astoria pointed her finger at both of them, waving it back and forth. Finally, Rhiannon understood that she was trying to say "Go together." Rhiannon raised one eyebrow and pointed her thumb at Hestia in disbelief. Astoria nodded as deliberately as she could.
"You know what, I can't go either," Rhiannon said.
Flora rolled her eyes.
"W-What? No, you go. You're all dressed up, Rhi," Hestia said.
"But who's gonna be my date?"
Hestia sprung out of bed like a Jack-in-the-box.
"What? I didn't — I mean — seriously? I'm not dressed!"
"Well, bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!" Rhiannon said mysteriously.
Hestia erupted in giggles. It wasn't long before they were all on their way to the party, Hestia at Rhiannon's arm.
"What was that she said to her that was so funny?" Astoria asked Flora quietly.
"Oh gosh," Flora said. "We've been going to Professor Burbage's house in Hogsmeade to watch Muggle feature films, or, er, motion pictures. We're doing projects on Muggle ideas of magic, and yesterday, we watched Cinderella. I thought it was about Animagi until a witch-fairy half-breed Apparated in and started singing in tongues to make it a love story."
"I've never seen a motion picture before… Wasn't it any good?" Astoria asked curiously.
"Meh. I'm doing my project on Sleeping Beauty. The witches — er, 'fairies' — were much more realistic."
Montel joined Astoria in the common room, saying, "I hope you don't expect me to do that," with reference to Hestia's grip on Rhiannon.
"No, I sort of need my arm to have blood circulation," Astoria answered.
Professor Slughorn's party was too cosy for Astoria's liking, as though he hadn't Extended the room enough for the amount of people he invited. The presence of all of the Weird Sisters only made her feel more cramped, since she felt she was limited to the places they were not. Their records were always hits.
"Whoa now," Montel said, realising exactly where her gaze had gone. "Don't you worry about them. Everyone might love 'em, but I think they're a lot of sell-outs."
"Oh, Montel, you don't have to say that."
"Sure I do. Let's go get drinks."
Montel led the charge to the refreshments table, where two adults were in a heated conversation about some fellow named Worple. It wasn't long before Astoria recognised the woman as Glenda Chittock, a dhampir for whom she had performed a radio show.
"And the worst of all is that I wasn't invited personally. Worple dragged me along with no concern for this horde of humans," the deathly pale man next to Ms Chittock complained.
"That pasty won't do you any good, Sanguini. Here, I've brought iron chews."
"Glenda, you're a hero," Sanguini said hoarsely, taking a few of the tablets she gave him.
Montel bared his teeth and made clawing motions at Astoria, who discouraged him just in time for Ms Chittock to turn toward them.
"Hey girl! I see the band's still… tight!"
Rhiannon waved with her free arm.
"You gonna come in for a show sometime?"
"Whenever Mongaby picks a good day," Hestia said.
"'A good day!'" Sanguini interjected. "See, they can say things like that."
The girls and Montel averted their eyes awkwardly until Ms Chittock said "See you" and they felt like they could dismiss. The short encounter with Ms Chittock had created a bit of a buzz about Pariah, and, sensing this, Montel hung about a group of Quidditch players so as not to be recognised for his father's work with Infinite Records. Many of the Hogwarts alumni introduced themselves to Pariah, so Astoria, Rhiannon, and Hestia offered their best conversation. It must not have been the great time Flora imagined, so she stirred the cauldron by saying, "There goes Draco!" in Astoria's ear. Astoria thought it was a rude joke and did not believe her.
"Really, Flora…"
"What? I just saw him! Looked like he was in trouble with Professor Snape."
Astoria glanced round the room periodically, never seeing Draco but catching Rhiannon looking into her broken Foe-Glass.
"Oh, he's clear," Rhiannon gasped. "The hell's he up to?"
Astoria was suspicious herself. If Flora had seen him, why did he just crop up there instead of ditching Parkinson and accepting Astoria's invitation? Where was he now? The clearer Draco's image became in the glass, the shakier Astoria became. Was he trying to get back at Rhiannon in some way? It was frightening and confusing, and Astoria remained almost as close to Rhiannon as Hestia by the end of the night.
Astoria only saw Draco in person on the train back to King's Cross, by which point he was not discernible in the Foe-Glass. Nonetheless, when he passed by the girls to find a seat, Astoria unconsciously grabbed her wand in her pocket. When she realised that she had done that, she barely stopped herself from crying. Her feelings for him were only causing her pain. This wasn't worth it, was it? He was the son of a Death Eater.
Maybe Rhiannon isn't over me, she thought. He might have come to the party since he knew I wanted him to, so he showed up in her Foe-Glass. He's not trying to talk to me today, so he isn't in the glass… right?
The excuse Astoria thought of only made her embarrass herself.
Idiot. It's not anything to do with you, said a train of thought she hadn't always had. She knew that Draco was doing something unwholesome that put him in Rhiannon's Foe-Glass. Yet no matter how many chapters on Legilimency she learnt, she still couldn't figure him out.
"If the EP doesn't sell and they drop us, I'd still like to play with you lot," Flora said out of nowhere.
"Er, what brings this up?" Rhiannon wondered.
"I think it's been good for me," considered Flora. "It's nice to do something besides schoolwork and Hogsmeade with you."
Astoria understood what Flora meant. The twins weren't allowed to contact friends at Christmas or in the summer anymore, a scheme to isolate them. They had found real companionship with Pariah. It was more than a band, so it was more than something a label executive could shut down. Before the girls went their separate ways at the station, Rhiannon assured the twins that they would stick together, signed or unsigned. Hestia flung her arms over Rhiannon, saying, "Happy Christmas — and a safe one, too!"
Rhiannon watched Hestia leave, a vivid blush appearing beneath her freckles.
"Ah, don't look at me like that, Astoria."
The scents of cinnamon, pine, and burning logwood touched every corner of Astoria's large home. Rhiannon and Daphne had fallen asleep ages ago, but Astoria had tossed and turned in her plush blankets until she ultimately sat up and held them round her shoulders. It was too cloudy for stargazing, but one day, Astoria would be able to clear the skies like Professor Sinistra. If only she could clear her mind. She wanted to read the Legilimency manual, but reading it off of school property was risky business if there wasn't enough adult magic about to disguise her. Astoria hurried from the warmth of her blankets to her robe and put on her slippers. By the light of candles which smelt faintly of peppermint, she strolled to the library. Her grandmother had books on everything, so there had to be a book on Legilimency that didn't require magic. When Astoria checked her father's topical directory of the library books (he often had too much time on his hands), she could only find books on Occlumency. Those weren't as interesting, but Astoria meant business and took them all off the shelves anyway.
The first book, Occlumency for the Modern Wizard, referred to Legilimency as a Dark art, so she picked another one. When The Occlumency Encyclopaedia also called Legilimency a Dark art, Astoria decided to check all six books. Unanimously, Legilimency was considered a horrible menace rather than a tool and natural counterpart of Occlumency. Astoria had goose pimples even though she was close to the fire. She must have cast Legilimens over fifteen times by then. Why would Professor Sinistra give her a Dark artefact? The Occlumency texts must have been biased, that was all. Astoria decided to skim them to make herself tired. On her walk back to her room, she heard her parents speaking in the parlour and thought she might ask them about Occlumency.
Her parents were leaning against each other, their silhouettes breathing like the fire in the hearth. For probably the first time in her life, Astoria realised that her arrival would actually be an intrusion. She listened to their conversation briefly.
"Are you with Katie Bell at the hospital tomorrow, my love?" her father asked.
"No, she is under the supervision of Madam Brown. It is just in time for Christmas," her mother answered.
Christmas, Astoria repeated, continuing down the hall. One of the loveliest times of the year.
She hadn't been home for months and took notice of the paintings she normally walked by. Many of the ones on her route were wedding portraits. They were always painted in spring — the Vernal Equinox, to be exact. There was never a winter wedding, snowy though many of the dresses were. Astoria admired the beauty of these paintings, from her ancestors all the way to her parents. The Greengrass in the painting was always on the right, welcoming the new family member on the left with a priceless smile. The couple always stood before the grand staircase, which was always adorned with garland of peach blossoms, apple blossoms, and primrose. They made it look easy, like the family had been part of the same elaborate puzzle for hundreds of years, and that all one had to do was find a good, final piece.
Back in her room, Astoria paused in front of her vanity's mirror. Her favourite robe had become too short for her. She had been ignoring it, but the robe truly was at her knees and was uncomfortable to wear with the tie. It had done its job, though, having kept her warm on her porch whenever she had the urge to stargaze before bed. Astoria still had the telescope her parents had given her for her fifth birthday for casual viewing, but she had acquired advanced telescopes since then.
Things like that are necessary, she thought as she crawled into bed.
The march of twenty-three guests into the house on Christmas Eve was made especially slow by the security questions Astoria's father asked each person. Finally, they all sat for dinner at the same long table. Astoria had never had a Christmas Eve like this at her house. There were always over one-hundred guests, with music and dancing. This time, she could hear the dinnerware clinking between soft conversations. Other than Rhiannon, the only non-relatives were the tiny Tonks family and a few of her father's Ravenclaw friends. They sat nearest the hosts, so Astoria's place was between Nymphadora and Rhiannon, who would both occasionally put their elbows on the table. Uncle Faunus, who was just diagonal, noticed this and started to laugh at Astoria's snooty expression.
"I am sorry that you have to see our celebration like this, Andromeda. Usually, it is much more festive, but the threat of war has made us wary of big parties," Astoria's mother said.
Astoria knew that her mother was still trying to express how dangerous the war was to Mrs Tonks. Last Christmas, Mrs Malfoy had wanted her sister to know of the threat, but Astoria's mother had to be the messenger. And she had been as unsuccessful as Mrs Malfoy herself would have been. Mrs Tonks and her family were not only going to remain in England but also fight with the Order of the Phoenix. It became obvious straight away that Mrs Tonks still wasn't going to hear any of it.
"Nonsense, Estelle. I've seen your largest banquets, and you're a lovely hostess through and through. Ted and I don't have big Christmases anyway."
Whether or not she was aware of it, Nymphadora looked like she would have preferred an even smaller Christmas. Though Astoria knew it wasn't the jolliest gathering, Nymphadora had no Christmas spirit at all. Her job as an Auror had to be exhausting, and she probably wanted to relax at home. Astoria could not blame her.
"So, how is married life treating you, Sylvester?" Aunt Laureline asked her nephew.
Astoria didn't hear his response because Nymphadora was nearly unable to swallow her bite of roast duck.
"Forgot how to chew, Dora? Guess you could morph yourself bigger teeth," Mr Tonks joked, only to make her more distressed.
Dimsie and Prissy cleared the table well after everyone had finished the final course, yet the conversation still died out prematurely. Always attuned to the mood of a party, Mrs Ciel-Greengrass motioned gently to Astoria.
"Please play some Christmas songs for us, my sweet," she asked quietly in French.
"What shall I play, Maman?"
"The old ones."
Effortlessly, Mrs Ciel-Greengrass had relocated the party to the drawing room once more to hear Astoria at the piano. Though pressed to join, Daphne preferred to listen rather than sing like when they were younger. Astoria felt comfortable nonetheless. Playing music for her family again was very unlike working in Pariah. She could pick what to play and how to play it.
Her favourite carol by far was "Minuit, Chrétien," the original version of "O Holy Night." Her mother used to sing it to her and eventually taught her how to play it herself. Astoria still preferred it to be sung to her, childish as it seemed. It felt strange to make her voice carry through the whole room when it had always been a lullaby to her.
"That was lovely, Astoria. Thank you," Mrs Ciel-Greengrass sniffled as there was a gentle applause. Only Astoria's parents, Daphne, and Mrs Tonks understood French, but most knew the tune. Astoria sang "The Holly and the Ivy," her father's favourite, and "Hark! The Harold Angels Sing" before Rhiannon stepped toward the piano and asked Astoria if she knew anything like "Last Christmas" and "Wonderful Christmastime." Mr Tonks also took interest in the request, but Astoria had to admit she had never heard the songs.
"I have one you may know, then," Mrs Tonks said a bit shyly. "It's 'Un jardin d'hiver.'"
"I remember that one!" Astoria said.
"Un jardin d'hiver" was a French Wizarding lullaby. The mother in the song, which of course became your mother when it was sung, was teaching her child about the four seasons, and how winter was like bedtime for flowers. The child, who clearly wants to stay up later, believes the mother can make all the flowers bloom at night in the middle of winter. So, the mother gives in and carries the child to the window and makes the entire garden bloom. When the child says it must be magic that made the flowers bloom, the mother says it was only her love. Whenever Astoria's mother had sung it to her and Daphne, she would conjure up bouquets of tulips. It had always been so much fun.
Nymphadora gasped when Astoria started playing the song and said, "I remember that too!"
The music seemed to finally cheer Nymphadora. When Astoria was finished, everyone picked up a game of consequences. Christmas, although it was much different from usual, would not be haunted by the war.
The first thing Astoria unpacked back at school was the strange Legilimency book. It had been all she wanted to "read," if only to have proof that she shouldn't be reading it at all.
"Rhiannon, erm…"
Astoria already regretted opening her mouth. Rhiannon had looked right at her, and Astoria sensed her irritation in spite of Rhiannon's façade of politeness. Astoria looked downward, ashamed of the sheer clarity Rhiannon's mind had been providing her as of late. It was like all the times Astoria had cast Legilimens added up to its strength, incurring a psychic curse.
"Rhiannon, I know this is a stupid question, but do you ever see Professor Sinistra in the Foe-Shard?"
"What? No, never. Why?"
"Well, she must be a Legilimens if she gave me this book, and—"
"So? That don't make her evil. She probably wants you to be able to sniff out Death Eaters or something."
"That's just it, Rhi," sighed Astoria. "If she is a Legilimens, why hadn't she known that Professor Moody was really her husband, Barty Crouch?"
"Oi, everything I know about this mind-reading guff, I know from you. So you tell me. He must've been a better Occlumens than she was the other thing."
"Okay… Well, it bothers me that most books consider Legilimency to be a Dark art. Who do you suppose taught Professor Sinistra?" Astoria wondered.
"Isn't Dumbledore supposed to be psychic like? I'll bet he did, in a non-Dark-arts way."
"Then who taught him?" Astoria said, remembering from her Occlumency books that Legilimens were historically Dark warlocks, rarely anyone normal.
"I dunno, Astoria. Merlin himself. Dumbledore's pretty old."
The conversation wasn't accomplishing anything, and Rhiannon turned her attention to the beautiful copy of their EP, Flare, that had just been released. It had a realistic heart on the cover that was being consumed with flames. It looked so convincing that sometimes Astoria could hear the fire crackle. Of course, she was getting carried away. The publicity of the EP was, in truth, bothering her, considering that their thoughtful album had been ignored. Something with only four tracks was causing quite a bit of fan uproar in its short life, but then again, it did have very strong songs:
1. Guest Soap
2. Ashes
3. My Root Doctor
4. I Swear This Helps
Astoria could only imagine how Mr Mongaby would schedule their concerts. It would be hard to work around everything else, especially with a new class on her hands. Whether the practice was innocuous or not, Astoria was swept into Legilimency and Occlumency lessons every Wednesday from 1:15 until as late as five o'clock. Thankfully, Professor Sinistra had plenty of ways of putting her mind at ease, such as offering Astoria bottles to store memories she wanted to keep private and providing snacks. Astoria was thankful for the bottles in particular, since her performance in Occlumency was deplorable. It wasn't uncommon for her friends to read her like a book with no magic, but up against Legilimency, Astoria was a biography waiting to be written.
It was the third week into Legilimency lessons when Professor Sinistra did not get right down to business as she usually did. Instead, she had Astoria sit in a comfy chair in the Astronomy library for a talk. Somehow, the imminent conversation was worse for Astoria than having her mind read.
"I've been a Legilimens for years, Astoria," the professor began.
"…And you've never seen somebody with as much stress as me," Astoria guessed.
"Not true," she said softly. "What I've learnt is that everyone is stressed by something. No one's mind is ever completely free of troubles, no matter how much they're covered up. But it'd be rather rude for me to use Legilimency on you and not have a better talk about it, hm? I've sifted through enough frothy stress of yours. Tell me what's really up in your own choice of words."
"Erm… Well, to start… The EP we just released has actually been successful," said Astoria. "We thought we were going to get dropped by our label before the contract even ran out. So now, with the success of the EP, we'll have to devote more time to publicity. We're still on a solid label, so it's a solid job. And I'd rather devote that time to Transfiguration, because, you know, my future lies in my education, not in music."
Astoria was surprised she had said what she was feeling so cogently. It must have been all the swimming Professor Sinistra had done in her head.
"That EP did seem to be bothering you. I heard some of it on the wireless, though, and it is excellent. I'm surprised you and your band put out that level of art in such a short time frame."
"Well, thank you, Professor. But we worked on those few songs so much that they're past al dente for me. Another thing that's bothering me is that the song closest to me is getting the most airplay, and Rhiannon's jealous."
"Have you been using Legilimency on Rhiannon?"
"I-I… It's not always on purpose," Astoria answered.
"I've lost friends that way, Astoria," Professor Sinistra said seriously. "If you are to become a Legilimens, you must understand how people work. If they think something but choose not to say or act upon it, that counts for something. It's the best any one of us can do. Rhiannon has no ability in Occlumency, and you must not use that to your social advantage."
"Yes, Professor. I'm sorry. I will try better."
"And another thing we need to discuss. Any small amount of Occlumency causes you significant trouble. Your advancement through the Legilimency spell these past two weeks has been due to my lack of defence. So, from now on, you must practise getting through an occlusion. It could prove mentally exhausting, so I want you to keep on a regular and sufficient sleep schedule," Professor Sinistra commanded.
"Professor, I need to ask," Astoria started, "why are you teaching only me this? If we're talking about things that are bothering me, then, erm… that's one of them. Why not hold a class, or at least let me bring my friends?"
Professor Sinistra's face dimmed with that trademark seriousness, and she took Astoria's hands. The professor's hands were chapped and warm, but her eyes were wet and cold.
"Legilimency has never been a class here, nor will it ever be. The potential to abuse it is too great, especially amongst young people. If anything, we should be teaching Occlumency, but the board of governors is so nit-picky that it's hard enough to get something added as an elective. If you are asked, you must say that we are working on Astronomy in an extracurricular fashion. As far as your friends go," the professor said, getting even grimmer, "Rhiannon would not be able to master Occlumency before it becomes necessary for her to leave the country anyway. I hope your family has been seeing to that."
"I—"
"I really needn't tell you why I am keeping the art from the Carrow twins, but they are in a position to be exploited by their relatives."
There it goes with the war again… There wasn't a day that went by without talk of the war, or worse, altered behaviour on account of the war. What was the point of learning Legilimency that Astoria could barely use?
"If Rhiannon has to leave the country, I do too. We live together. My family is blood-traitorous," Astoria said.
"Look, if you don't want to learn this, you can have your free periods back," the professor said. "This school has not provided a satisfactory D.A.D.A. curriculum for I don't know how long. You never know when it could come in handy, Astoria. I was once a young girl in Slytherin, too. I would not have known who my enemies were without it."
That vague line of reasoning was enough to keep her coming to the lessons, however under-the-table or impractical they might have been. If nothing else, at least Legilimency was considered cool by her friends and boosted her confidence. Astoria remembered that her boggart had manifested itself as a fear of being lied to. Maybe one day she could see through lies effortlessly. People respected that kind of power in a different way than they respected her because of her last name.