Book 1: Astoria Greengrass and the Muggle-Born Slytherin

Song rec: "Ready to Go" by Republica

Notes: Even though wee teenaged me put these characters in a band subplot (lmao), I wanted to expand on one of the bigger themes as being "things handed to you," which appears in different contexts through the story.

"It's an honest question," Astoria said to her friends at lunch the next day. "What liquid can contain the soul?"

"And this is their common room password?" Hestia clarified.

"Well, it was the other day when I walked up there. I think the riddle changes."

"Lotta effort to be a Ravenclaw, then," Rhiannon said. "No wonder they hide up in that tower. What if you can't get back in, right?"

"Do you have an answer to the riddle?" Astoria asked again.

"I mean, if any liquid contains my soul, it's hot chocolate," Rhiannon said firmly, and Astoria gave her a big smile.

Hestia thought hard and said, "I bet the answer is ectoplasm, though. Although, wait… ectoplasm is plasma, not liquid. Right? What's ectoplasm feel like in a jar? Here I'll ask them — they're seventh years…"

Flora finished a crunchy carrot and said, "It's ink."

"Ink?" Astoria echoed.

"Well, the Ravenclaw knocker probably wasn't looking for 'blood.' Ink is the liquid that can contain the soul, as it's a means of creation. It takes something metaphysical, like thought or feeling, and makes it physical. Puts it on paper. The answer is ink."

"Ah, Flora, showing us all up. Good thing we don't solve no riddles, or the rest of us would be getting cosy with the Hufflepuffs upstairs."

Within the next week, Astoria considered Philippe's advice and asked Tracey to find out if Mr Davis could come to Hogsmeade on a weekend when they were ready to give a few demos. Tracey relayed the news that her father would like to come on the next Hogsmeade visit, which was on the approaching Saturday. They would meet him at the WWN building and could begin their session there. As such, Rhiannon had ignored most of her homework that week. She insisted on last-minute practices that were twice as long as usual.

"We want to make a good name for ourselves, don't we?" she insisted.

The twins and even Astoria were getting a bit grumpy about all of the work, though. Flora stopped going to the music room after Wednesday.

"If I practise any more, my arms will fall off, and I won't be able to play the stupid demos!" she asserted, and left the room after five hours of playing songs with the others. She and Rhiannon stopped speaking; even in the dormitory, they made an effort to ignore each other. Yet when Astoria asked Flora about her true opinions on making a band, Flora said she wanted to "stick with it."

Another pair of friends who was not speaking were Tracey and Parkinson. A nasty article written by a woman named Rita Skeeter appeared in the Witch Weekly magazine. It was about Harry Potter and his alleged love interest, Hermione Granger. It also mentioned that Hermione had the affections of Viktor Krum, with whom she had attended the Yule Ball. Astoria had never formally met Hermione, but many girls described her as being very intelligent and kind. Except, of course, Parkinson, who was the one interviewed in that terrible article. One of the main reasons Astoria distrusted the article was because Parkinson was described as "pretty and vivacious," whilst Hermione was "plain, devious," and to Astoria's disgust, derisively and pointlessly called a Muggle-born. In the article, Parkinson accused Hermione of brewing love potions to win the affections of famous wizards such as Harry and Viktor. Before Astronomy class, with Astoria as a reluctant witness, Tracey read the article and lashed out at Parkinson.

"Thanks for making us look bad again, Pansy! I've met Hermione; she'd never make a love potion. And you — telling someone like Skeeter that! Why, you're just as bad as that journalist!"

"Maybe next time I'll tell her you're the one brewing love potions for Max Lazenby!" Parkinson rejoined.

"Get over yourself! Just because I have a boyfriend—"

"Like I'm jealous of you with Max! His nose is crooked!"

"Oh, please!"

The fight lasted until Professor Sinistra entered the room, her footsteps processional and commanding. But after class, Astoria knew the fight would last much longer based on the nasty looks Tracey and Parkinson kept giving each other. She had always felt sorry for the girls in Parkinson's dorm, but this highlighted their troubles.

At lunchtime on Saturday, Astoria and her roommates arrived in Hogsmeade and went to the Wizarding Wireless Network building. The interior of the building was unlike the rest of the buildings in Hogsmeade. It was contemporary, with a lobby of tile floors and a front desk of heavily polished cherry wood. A witch with a tight brown bun was sitting at the desk and looking at them like she expected an explanation for someone their age arriving.

"We're here to see Mr Davis," Rhiannon said.

"Name?" asked the witch, visibly sceptical.

"Carrow, Clarke, and Greengrass," said Rhiannon.

"Oh, Greengrass? Floor three," the lady said, checking a paper with a look of disbelief on her face. It wasn't common to see a band consisting of thirteen-year-olds.

When they arrived on the third and uppermost floor, there was another desk, though the wizard sitting there had a Mohawk and was chewing gum.

"Yeh?" he said.

"We're here to see Mr Davis," Rhiannon said again.

"Studio in the back."

"Thanks."

The four girls went into the studio and saw a man in a suit. He had grey stubble on his face, broad shoulders, and knees that stuck out a good distance from the edge of his seat. He smiled at them when they walked in, and if Astoria didn't already know, she would have known now that it was Tracey and Montel's father. The siblings took after him; they probably looked nothing like their mother apart from their smaller stature.

"You must be Pariah," he said, standing up. His head almost touched the ceiling.

"Yup," Rhiannon said, and they were astounded that he had remembered their name.

"Well, it's nice to meet you all."

He shook the girls' hands when each told him her name.

"I heard you're gonna play some demos for me today?"

"Yessir," said Hestia.

"And you'll want these recorded?" he said, and they all looked at each other.

"I didn't know we could get that," said Rhiannon. "Er, can we?"

"That's the best way to provide you with feedback," said Mr Davis. "All right then. You can set up right in there." He pointed through a door on the right. The girls walked into a spacious room that had several microphones floating in the air. They could see the control room through a window.

"This is—" Mr Davis started.

"The live room," Rhiannon finished. Her eyes were bright, like those of a child receiving gifts on Christmas.

"Right you are," he said.

Flora set up her drum kit, and Rhiannon worked on her guitar. Though Rhiannon wasn't paying any attention, Astoria saw Mr Davis looking at Rhiannon like she was nutty.

"Where'd you get that guitar?" he asked.

"I got it from a guy who bought it from a guy who stole it from a used guitar shop," Rhiannon answered.

"Used guitar shop where?"

"Overseas."

"Overseas?"

"A long time ago," she added.

"I see. Well, how'd you manage to, er, get that to work, exactly?" Mr Davis questioned.

"Y'know, The Hobgoblins did it 'fore they came out with 'non-electric electric guitars.' I just used the same stuff," Rhiannon said to the wall.

"I know, I was there. But don't you want a magical guitar? No one's using those charms for this anymore. It's more work."

"I am sure," Rhiannon said confidently. "I love this guitar."

"Suit yourself," he said. "So we're just recording a demo, then. Well, do you have a name for this yet?"

Rhiannon was planning on playing "The Pariah" all week and was very excited about it. But after a discussion with Astoria and Hestia, she decided that it was best to save that one until they had already made an impression. Even Rhiannon had to admit, the song was a little bit intense to throw at a producer first thing, and Rhiannon had let Astoria know her vocals on the chorus "needed work."

"We're playing a song called 'Genesis,'" Rhiannon said.

Astoria could see the disappointment in her eyes. Rhiannon really wanted to play the other song, but she was afraid of hearing negative feedback she wasn't prepared for.

"Now, Rhiannon Clarke has the guitar, Astoria Greengrass usually has the vocals, Flora has the bass, and Hestia has the drums?" Mr Davis checked.

"Hestia has the bass. I have the drums," said Flora.

"My mistake. You two might want to wear name tags or something," he joked.

Astoria was in the middle of the room. She and Hestia fastened their floating microphones to stands. Rhiannon and Flora left theirs floating round their instruments; they weren't singing on this song. This was the first time Astoria sang in front of anyone except the other three girls. Maybe she should have sung in front of Draco for rehearsing. At least she wouldn't care what he thought. But she was looking at a professional producer here. She could see Mr Davis through a glass window.

"There's no vocal chamber here…" Rhiannon said.

"Don't worry, all the sound records properly with the equipment he has in there," Hestia informed quickly.

"So we won't be hearin' my guitar in Astoria's microphone?"

"Not at all."

"This is loads easier than the Muggle way," Rhiannon commented.

"That's the idea," replied Hestia.

When Mr Davis gave the "OK," Flora started the familiar introduction to "Genesis." Rhiannon was playing quietly. When she began to play louder, Hestia came in with the bass, then Flora's drum was enough to make one jump. "Genesis" was, in a literal sense, the genesis of the band Pariah. Astoria and Hestia spent an hour on the lyrics; Rhiannon spent a day elongating the song. Astoria drew a deep breath and tried to calm herself down before she started to sing.

Hestia's backing vocals gave Astoria more confidence. It helped when there were two people singing rather than her alone. Thankfully, most of the chorus included both girls' vocals. After the second verse and chorus, Rhiannon played a guitar solo. Astoria still found the instrumental parts awkward because she was in the front. On the songs in which she didn't sing as much, she was either given a piano part or placed closer to Hestia. But the instrumental breaks were something that couldn't be avoided, and she couldn't run to the back, which was what she felt like doing. Her stage fright mostly occurred before she started singing and during parts when she wasn't singing. It was odd, but she didn't mind the singing itself anymore. She was bothered by not doing anything. She had no charisma.

Her favourite part of "Genesis" was the lyrics that led to the outro. Astoria and Rhiannon had written these together based on things heard from Slytherin pure-bloods. It was about how deep hatred could run in people so young when they were taught wrong. It amazed Astoria that people would go so far as to say "Don't touch me" to a Muggle-born. She even saw Zabini refuse to sit in a chair that Rhiannon sat in. One day, someone wouldn't borrow a quill from Rhiannon in Transfiguration, preferring to get in trouble with Professor McGonagall than to hold a "filthy" quill.

"You'll never be clean

Your mouth betrays your heart

I wrote to tell your mother

My family's torn apart

And people like her

Reap what they can't sow

I brought you to this century

From soil she don't know"

"Well done, well done," Mr Davis said after the girls finished playing the rest of their songs. "I got the tape right here." He held up a small wizard cassette. They listened to the songs, and then grew quiet. All four girls were desperately hoping for approval.

"Astoria, at the beginning, your vocals are shaky," Mr Davis said.

"Yes… I heard, yes," Astoria muttered.

"And Rhiannon, I think you and Flora need to balance your tempo a bit. It's as if you don't agree."

The girls nodded, each internally blaming the other, which was not the solution. Mr Davis paused.

"Alright, here's the deal."

The girls were all holding their breath. How much advice could he offer?

"As long as you make a good, solid pop song every once in a while… people expect that from the younger ones, you know…"

Rhiannon was going to explode from anticipation any second.

"I think it would be in accordance to get you signed to our label," Mr Davis said.

Rhiannon squealed, unstrapped her guitar, and ran over to their producer. She was shaking his hand and crying, "Thank you! Thank you! I can't believe it! Thank you! This is my dream!"

Astoria stood still. What was happening? Rhiannon and Hestia were happy as could be, but Astoria and Flora had no talent. This was supposed to be a meeting to get advice, not actually gain a producer. Something had spiralled out of Astoria's hands without her even seeing it in the first place. She looked at Flora, who was wide-eyed and gaping. Mr Davis had no reason to offer them a recording contract at their level. They had never even performed publicly. Their repertoire was limited to playing in the music room to empty chairs, and practice had not yet made perfect. This was ridiculous. How were they supposed to promote music out of Hogwarts? Astoria didn't know the first thing about how the music industry worked.

"Recording contracts can be rough," said Mr Davis, then he looked at Astoria. "I'll contact my label on Monday and talk to your parents again, and we can figure this out with them. Royalties, deadlines, things like that."

Talk to them again?

Rhiannon looked at Astoria with nothing short of adoration. Astoria stared back with nothing to offer. So that was it. When her parents had bought the instruments for Pariah, they had went ahead and bought the recording contract, too. Astoria never thought that having written to them about seeing Mr Davis at the WWN would have led them to do this. They hadn't even checked with her to see if it was what she wanted. And if it had been what she wanted, she would rather have earned it through talent than money. Oh, but she couldn't let Rhiannon know the apparent extent of her parents' influence. Rhiannon really thought it was their hard work.

"I think my parents could figure all of that out for us, yes," Astoria said shortly, and they all bid Mr Davis thanks and good-bye.

The girls went to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate with butterbeer, then Astoria bought them all sweets at Honeydukes. Rhiannon was happily eating her chocolate until a shaggy black dog swept by and ate a piece that she had accidentally dropped on the ground. She was in tears, and not the kind of tears she had in the WNN building.

"Dogs can't eat chocolate!" she cried. "Oh my God, I'm gonna kill a dog!"

"It was a tiny piece!" Hestia said. "Really, Rhi, it only ate that little piece. It was a pretty large dog, anyway. It… it should be okay. It wasn't dark chocolate."

"But it was a thin dog! No wonder it ate the chocolate! Oh, it's gonna be so sick! It doesn't even look like it has an owner! I have to tell Hagrid…!"

This was probably the only thing that could distract Rhiannon from the joy of starting Pariah. Rhiannon really loved animals, though she didn't keep a pet at school because it cost too much to feed and take care of one. Animals and other creatures also usually loved Rhiannon. Astoria, on the other hand, never had that ability with animals. Even a goldfish would avoid her. The twins and Astoria went back to the dungeons whilst Rhiannon insisted on seeing Professor Hagrid about the dog. She returned a happy girl; she came across Harry Potter instead who confirmed that it was his dog and that the dog was fine. (She did tell him he needed to feed his dog more, though). The four girls then planned on playing a joke on Tracey in the common room when they got a chance to talk to her.

"We saw your dad today, Tracey," Flora said in her usual sombre tone.

"You did! How did it… go…?" Tracey's voice trailed off. The other four all looked distraught. "Oh my goodness! Was he rude?"

"It's okay, Tracey," Astoria said. "We're just too young."

"But I heard you playing in the music room! You lot are incredible! My dad's just being—"

"Tracey, it's fine," Hestia said. The four girls started walking away. Then Rhiannon jumped backwards.

"Your dad's gonna get us signed to a label!" she shouted.

"What‽ Hey! Don't trick me like that!" Tracey said. She and Rhiannon were holding hands and jumping up and down like little girls. Hestia joined in, but Flora and Astoria decided they would just stand back. Astoria had a feeling Flora had figured it out and was keeping it quiet for Hestia's sake, much like Astoria wouldn't tell Rhiannon. They were the only two who were conscious of the fact that everyone in the common room had gone quiet and was staring at them. Astoria really hated when people stared at her like that; she wondered if anybody was teaching their children etiquette anymore. The hush made it worse, especially when Draco took it upon himself to announce, "They're in a band with Clarke, those three."

Astoria saw Daphne give her a "What on earth?" look. It occurred to Astoria that she hadn't told her sister anything about Pariah. It then occurred to her that Daphne might figure out what their parents had done, too.

Draco, not having been taught etiquette, or rather, ignoring what he was taught, accordingly shoved a few students out of his way to walk to where the girls were. If he said anything rude about the band, Astoria was planning on slapping him clean in the face. Her expression told him so, too.

"So you really took this seriously," he said. "Three pure-bloods in a band with a Mu— Muggle-born and her Muggle guitar."

Astoria made no reply. She was quite content to watch his eyes shift as he tried to think of a way of insulting her without consequently getting hit in the face.

"I can't believe anyone would want you," he said.

"Is that so?"

This might have been the only good thing about the band — rubbing it in Malfoy's face.

"Aren't they going to make her get rid of that electrical guitar?" he jeered.

"No. There are people who couldn't care less that she modified a Muggle piece. Our producer is one of them."

"That's a shame," he said mordantly.

"You're a shame!" Hestia said. "Come on, Astoria. We're going to have Tracey listen to the demo in the dorm."

"Okay," Astoria said and followed Hestia.

"Looking forward to see you sing in front of a crowd of people," Draco called out. "You might have to pay them to come!"

"Thanks for your unwavering support, Malfoy," Astoria yelled back.

Tracey liked the demo so much that she asked if she could buy the tape right there. Rhiannon said that she really wouldn't need to, since her dad was the girls' producer, and Hestia thought that the recording contract wouldn't allow that type of sale regardless. Tracey pouted a little, but she congratulated the girls before retiring to her dorm.

"Pop song," Rhiannon said as if she was holding an important conference. "We need a pop song. I can't write it. I don't do pop."

"Don't look at me," Flora said immediately. "I didn't think any of this would happen."

"Way to believe in ourselves, there, Flora," Rhiannon huffed.

"I'm working on some songs… I don't know if they're pop exactly, but they aren't your — our usual sound," Astoria said. "I only have them with the piano right now."

"Lemme see them," Rhiannon urged.

Astoria shuffled through the contents of her bag and found the roll of parchment with the songs she finished writing on it. One was called "Sweet Nothings," another "The Things Unsaid." She gave it to Rhiannon, who studied the songs and then concluded that they would be the pop songs to offer to Mr Davis. If he didn't think they would do, Astoria would be in charge of writing more.

"I don't think I can write things a bunch of people will relate to," Rhiannon claimed.

Astoria didn't mind being in charge of the calmer songs. She had fun writing them, but now that they truly were being judged for quality, she wasn't so sure. Maybe they weren't exactly lyrically strong, but the general population could listen to them without feeling sad or angry. Astoria would never say that, of course. Rhiannon might get insulted.

Professor Flitwick was quick to congratulate the girls the next morning in Music. He asked them if they would like to play a song for the rest of the class, and they were happy to do so. The professor joked that he should get some credit in interviews, but the four were already planning on giving him plenty of credit. If it wasn't for him, Flora wouldn't have been playing the drums, and they wouldn't have had a good place to rehearse. The applause that they got from the rest of the class after their song was enough to make Astoria feel like she had earned at least something, although a full-out contract made her feel like a fraud.

It was extraordinary how news from eleven o'clock on Sunday in the music room travelled throughout the school by noon the next day. A group of Hufflepuffs glued together at the shoulders pointed at the girls as they went to lunch. Several Ravenclaws that weren't in their Music class smiled at them. Ginny even gave them a big wave as they walked past her table. A group of Beauxbatons all sat at the Slytherin table to be near Astoria this time instead of her coming to them, and the Durmstrangs hadn't moved.

"We're bloody famous," Rhiannon beamed.

Flora looked at Astoria like she was expecting a confession and did not look the slightest bit pleased anymore. Starting a band, for real this time, came with publicity, and the last thing Flora liked was public attention. Astoria, still in shock, didn't have anything to say. Philippe was trying and failing to save Astoria a spot next to him at the overfilled Slytherin table.

"Do you mind moving a spot, please?" he said to Draco, who was sitting next to him. Draco didn't budge.

"Draco, move," Astoria said, prodding his shoulder. Malfoy scooted toward Parkinson on his other side. Rhiannon found a seat between two pretty Durmstrang girls. Hestia was close by. Flora had taken a vacant seat at the Ravenclaw table, where she was welcomed by several others who hated mornings just as much as she. The instructors looked utterly baffled at the mixing of students, but they didn't make anyone move.

"You have a contract?" Philippe asked.

"Not quite yet. Mr Davis is going to contact my parents about the terms and conditions of it. Like royalties, creative control, merchandising… I tried to write to my parents about it, but they didn't tell me anything. They'll probably be able to straighten everything out for us."

"That's good. It's amazing what you're doing, Astoria. I can't wait to hear you sing."

"Oh, thank y—"

"Of course you can't. She'll probably sing about you!" Draco howled with laughter. Parkinson followed.

"I wasn't talking to you," Philippe said.

"He always acts like that, Philippe. Just ignore him," Astoria said in French. It was twice as fun to speak in French when Draco was around. He tried to figure the words out, but knowing only a few French phrases didn't help him much.

A fifth-year across the table was trying to get Astoria's attention.

"Are you really in a band?" he asked. "Or are you just part of Flitwick's groups?"

"I— uh," Astoria said.

"Oh, we're in a band all right," Hestia said with unnecessary flair.

A few first-years looked intently at Astoria, as if she was going to do something magnificent at any moment.

"Quite the superstar, aren't you?" Parkinson barked.

"I guess I am," Astoria barked back. She realised that she sounded conceited, too. She didn't care; it was Parkinson she was talking to.

"What's a toff like you going to do with all that extra money? Aren't you loaded enough? Draco tells me your parents bought the record label."

"I thought you were in want of money, Parkinson. You have to keep your supply of gold watches, right?" Astoria sneered.

Parkinson tugged her sleeve over the flashy watch she was wearing. Astoria knew Parkinson didn't get that for herself. Draco would be happy to buy Parkinson anything as long as she kept on worshipping him. Draco was staring at the wall, pretending not to hear the girls fight.

"That girl is as bad as he is," Philippe joked in French, but Astoria would have been pleased if Parkinson knew what they were saying.

"She's worse than him," Astoria said and finished her meal.

A few days later, Rhiannon asked Astoria if she had heard from her parents. She hadn't, but she was expecting a letter and an explanation soon enough. Rhiannon asked if she would send her parents another letter, but Astoria refused. If Rhiannon wanted to write them a letter, she was welcome to. Astoria hated going in the owlery. It was cold and there was poo all over the floor. The normally quiet owls always started making commotion and flew over her head, and the last thing Astoria needed was to have animal crud land in her hair as she tried to yell at her parents through the mail.

Actually, the last thing she probably needed was a Howler letter. Hermione Granger, Ginny's friend, kept receiving Howlers in her mail in the mornings. Most everyone could hear them. Astoria felt so sorry for her. The Howlers always screamed at her about giving love potions to Harry Potter and Viktor Krum and called her a terrible girl — evil, even — and many of them were from grown adults. Every time a Howler screamed at the Gryffindor table, Tracey became enraged at Parkinson. Astoria thought Tracey would be howling herself by the end of the week. Daphne never stuck up for Hermione the way Tracey did.

"All these people sending her letters like that, really! I'll make a damn love potion right in front of Professor Snape to get everyone's mind off of Hermione!" Tracey ranted on Thursday. She looked like she was about to stab Parkinson with her fork, something Astoria wouldn't do herself but would feel perfectly fine about if someone else did.

It was only a couple of days before Rhiannon's fourteenth birthday when a letter arrived from Astoria's parents. Astoria read it before letting Rhiannon even have a peek. It turned out that her parents didn't feel the need to explain their corrupt use of money. It made Astoria even angrier, but at least it gave Rhiannon a letter she could read.

Dear Astoria,

Your mother and I are negotiating with the recording company's agents. You will be signed under the "Infinite" label, as The Weird Sisters are. We hope you like this decision. At present, we are debating about the creative control of the recording company. Once we have that settled, I believe you will be able to sign the altered contract. Mr Davis will be available at the WNN building in Hogsmeade during your Easter holiday, save for Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday itself. If you have any trouble, please send us an owl. I apologise for the late reply; I have been called to meetings at the Ministry quite often lately and have only just been able to start business with the record label. Do enjoy your Easter holiday at school; you do not need to be near my Ministry frustration. We are so very proud of you! You have accomplished so much, Astoria.

Much love from Father.

Astoria nearly said, "rubbish," after reading the letter. Her accomplishments meant nothing under the umbrella of her family name. The Greengrasses owned a house in which someone could get lost. They owned a large amount of land that held three ponds, a rosarium, and an old carriage house. Astoria's father's family was wealthy. Her mother's family was wealthy. When her mother and father got married, the two had more money than they could handle. Her mother refused to get paid working as a tutor at St Mungo's. Her father treated his job as optional. In all sincerity, Astoria felt that if they had any more money, she would have to start throwing it in the streets. She wanted to tell Rhiannon that. She wanted to come clean, but it would break Rhiannon's heart.

Astoria tried to think of the contract as being Rhiannon's birthday present. It was Rhiannon's largest dream to be in a band. Pariah could be a success, even if its foundation had been forged in the hands of Astoria's parents and not Rhiannon's calloused fingers. Rhiannon said that there were countless, absolutely countless, Muggle bands in the world. How many wizard bands were there? About five-hundred internationally, excluding the ones who only made classical music. Pariah at least had a market. And Pariah was Rhiannon's band as far as Astoria was concerned, so maybe there wasn't as much harm in nudging the company to accept them. It wasn't like Rhiannon had been showered with opportunities her whole life. Astoria drew her robes tighter over her nice clothes and buttoned them up. Malfoy was right about what had happened because his family pulled stuff like this all of the time. She had an inexplicable urge to complain to him about her parents. He might understand how she felt.

As if.

Pariah had to work, even if it was going to work backwards.