Book 2: Astoria Greengrass and the Haunt of Azkaban
Song rec: "The Authority Song" by Jimmy Eat World
Astoria accidentally awoke three hours before the train left on the following morning. Unable to return to sleep, she remained in a state of slow-motion ambling over to her vanity to do her hair, eating with her family in the breakfast room, and even thinking. Sitting across from Daphne at the breakfast table was a challenge. As soon as they stepped foot on the train, Daphne would go back to ignoring Astoria. It was difficult to pretend everything was peaceable between them for the sake of their parents. Up until then, the "back to school" season did not have any effect on her. It came suddenly, and it took its toll.
Academics were forced into her mind. Astoria accepted that she was terrible in Herbology, but she was unhappy with her below-average ability in Charms. Her wand either caused her spells to be executed to a greater or lesser extent than intended… or to not be executed at all. The only reason Astoria did not want a new wand was that she wanted to prove to herself and others that she could handle her original one. One of her darkest secrets, one that she had not even told Rhiannon, was that Astoria had gone the first few years of her life without using magic. By that point, her family had already made assumptions that she was incapable. The only person who had ever believed in her magical talent was her cousin Renshaw, who ironically was a Squib.
When Astoria was little, it was easy for her to look to him as a source of comfort. Now, though, it seemed like they were too far apart in age to have anything in common and too close in age to not be awkward around each other. Astoria had a few half-penned letters to him about her struggles that she thought could be in bad taste. He couldn't use magic at all. She was just whining.
If there were anything justifiable to whine about, Transfiguration and Potions would be getting more complex, and the elective classes did not make anything easier. Astoria did not know what to expect of Defence Against the Dark Arts, what with the terrible textbook they would be using. She did not even know who the new teacher was. Worst of all, Astronomy was still making her uneasy. She was excellent in the subject, but she had to take her O.W.L. exam at the end of the year. If she did not get a good mark, she would not be able to take the advanced classes, and her dream of becoming an astronomer would be ruined. The problem was the pressure more so than the lack of knowledge, but it had a terrible effect on her peace of mind.
Another, more cavernous fear that had resurfaced was the fear of You-Know-Who. Headmaster Dumbledore himself said that the Dark wizard had returned, and based off of the information Astoria read about the First Wizarding War, that was enough to make one paranoid. Draco Malfoy had even warned Astoria about the dangers of her friendship with Rhiannon. He stated that people like Rhiannon were obviously targets for You-Know-Who, but so-called "blood-traitors" were in nearly equal danger. Astoria did not want to think about what the danger was for Rhiannon. Going to school had become more complicated than it should have been.
After arriving at Platform 9 ¾, Daphne and Astoria hugged their parents goodbye and boarded the train. Daphne went to a compartment in the back, and Astoria sat in the first seat she saw. She would rather be alone than with many of the Slytherins. Rhiannon arrived ten long minutes later.
"Jessica didn't even notice I came home last night, she was so smashed," Rhiannon sneered. "To think I coulda stayed with you if your parents were all right with it…"
"Did she notice you leave?" asked Astoria, disgusted with the woman she did not know.
"Wasn't there this morning," Rhiannon shrugged.
The compartments began to fill up rapidly, and soon it was nearly time for the train to depart. Rhiannon glanced out of the window and sat up quickly.
"It's Professor Lupin!" she piped, flicking her hand at Astoria to come to the window.
Professor Lupin was Rhiannon's favourite teacher in all of her years at Hogwarts. Rhiannon pressed her nose against the window and waved. Astoria looked out to see a man with greying hair and a scruffy moustache who was not dressed any nicer than Rhiannon was. He was standing near Professor Moody and an old lady with a purple hat; all of them were watching Harry Potter's rowdy pet dog run alongside the train. It was Professor Moody who, with his magical eye, noticed Rhiannon waving and brought Professor Lupin's attention to her. Professor Lupin smiled merrily and waved back; the old woman made a "rock on" sign that Rhiannon unsurely returned. Rhiannon had to sit back in her seat again once the train began to pull away, though she kept her eyes on the platform until it was out of sight.
"Who was the strange old woman by Professor Moody?" Astoria chortled. "His wife?"
Rhiannon did not respond.
"Rhiannon?"
"Well, Mrs Moody passed away a long time ago," Rhiannon said suddenly, furrowing her brow. "This lady here wasn't old. I've no idea who she was. Probably… probably under a, er, Polyjuice Potion."
"How do you mean?"
"She uses the 'rock on' sign, Astoria. She's not eighty-five. Not gonna fool me…"
"Oh, that's a good point."
Rhiannon stared emptily for several moments. She perked up and smiled only once the Carrow twins boarded the train.
"Hi!" Hestia greeted. (Astoria could only tell that it was Hestia by her use of such a cheery voice at that hour of the morning).
"Hey, how've you been?" Rhiannon asked.
"Just terrible!" Hestia said, still retaining her happy voice.
"Me too!" Rhiannon smiled.
"What happened to your eye?" Flora asked.
"It got bruised," Rhiannon said, stating the obvious. "Did you get your royalty cheques?"
"Yes, we did," Flora said. "But our aunt and uncle took them away from us."
Rhiannon's expression went blank again. "Well, there's always next month's cheque."
"Can't we tell Mr Mongaby to keep a portion of your money in your place in the record company's vaults instead?" Astoria said. "We should have set it up that way in the first place."
"That would be great, wouldn't it, Flora?" said Hestia.
"They'll demand the money anyway," Flora whispered.
"Maybe we can figure something out later," Hestia cut the conversation short, embarrassed of talking about it in front of Astoria and Rhiannon. Not to mention, a group of students in the seats nearby were gaping at them. One witch with curly, brown hair was searching through her bag. She pulled out a quill and a slip of parchment, and Astoria discovered that her intentions were not exclusive to staring at Rhiannon's black eye.
"You're Pariah? Can I have your autographs?" she asked.
Hestia took the parchment and quill and was the first to sign it, notably using a different script from the one in which she usually wrote. She passed it to Rhiannon, who made no effort to improve her handwriting for the autograph. Astoria received it after that and was taking her usual length of time to make her swirly letters. Flora handed the parchment back to the girl after scrawling a simple "F.C."
"Thanks!" the girl chirped and went back to her seat.
The very first autograph marked the start of a string of students asking for signatures. The girls passed the papers round in an orderly manner, however unexpected the whole situation was.
"I loved your album!" said a girl who looked to be a fifth-year.
"You're real pretty," said a first- or second-year boy to a very flattered Astoria.
"Just think," Rhiannon said humorously, passing a piece of parchment to Astoria, "our handwriting is worth something. I should write my name up several times and go sell it!"
"I don't quite think we're at that point," Hestia said with a smile.
After the students dissipated, Rhiannon leaned back in her seat contentedly.
"This is it," she said. "This is great."
Astoria, however, was unable to find the same joy in having people stare at her as she signed her name. It was a wonderful confidence booster, but it was so, so weird.
"Superstars, aren't we?" said a slow, tart voice.
Rhiannon instantly put her head down on the table and wrapped her arms so as not to see. Flora pulled out a book, and Hestia looked out the window at the cloudy, grey sky. Draco was in full uniform already, with his prefect's badge bedizening his outer robes.
"Don't worry, I don't want an autograph," he said.
"Yeah, like we'd give you one," Hestia muttered.
"You ran out of the bookshop yesterday," Draco said to Astoria.
Astoria found it uncomfortable that she was the only one not ignoring Draco. Normally, she would feel rude flagrantly ignoring someone. A part of her really wanted to know what he thought of the album, though she definitely could not raise the question.
"If you don't want an autograph — and I don't think you'll be joining us here — what are you here for?" Astoria asked.
Her friends were expecting her to say something like that. With all three of them looking away, Astoria was left as the spokesperson and had to act accordingly. She had done this with ease last year.
"Prefects have to patrol the compartments for rule-breakers," Draco said, eyeing the top of Rhiannon's head.
"We aren't doing anything," Astoria said.
"Right now you aren't. But you'll want to make sure she doesn't do anything," he said, tilting his head toward Rhiannon. "I'm just itching to throw that one in detention."
"Go itch somewhere else," Rhiannon chuckled.
Draco made a face at Rhiannon, who could not see it, and walked away. Hestia poked Rhiannon, who lifted her head as Flora put her book back in her bag. A light drizzle started falling outside. Thankfully, Astoria had mastered the Impervius Charm. When she arrived at school last September, she was drenched from rain even before Parkinson pushed her in the lake.
It was over three hours before the compartment quieted down. Hestia and Rhiannon had nodded off to sleep, and Flora once more retrieved her book, The Dark Arts: A Legal Compendium. In the quietude, Astoria heard the compartment door slide open slowly.
"Astoria?" called her sister's voice.
"What?" Astoria asked. Daphne was utterly morose; her bright blue eyes twinkled from the remnants of tears. She walked over to stand next to Astoria, and said very softly, "Sally-Anne left."
"Oh, dear, I'm sorry."
Sally-Anne Perks had been in Daphne's dormitory for four years. She was a frail girl with short brown hair, glasses, and an abundance of freckles. She did not have much in common with the other girls in the dorm, but they all treated her as a close friend with whom they could talk about anything. She might have been the kindest girl in all of Slytherin.
"Tracey told me as soon as I sat down. I looked like an idiot crying in there. No one's doing anything right now, so I thought I'd come sit with you."
"That's fine, but you'll have to talk quietly; those two are sleeping," Astoria said.
"Tracey got a short letter this morning," Daphne said, holding out a piece of folded parchment. Astoria took it and read the dainty letters that looked to have had teardrops on them by the way the ink was smudged.
Tracey, please show this to the other girls when you see them.
I can't come back to school this year. I really did not want to tell you until now because I knew you would be upset over the summer. The Ministry got rid of the financial aid system for students. We can't get new supplies, new uniforms, books, or any services with their funds. My family can't afford to buy me these things every year and still have enough money at home. Please do not think that you could help because my parents would never accept aid from friends (that means you, Daph and Tracey.) I'm sorry I did not tell you earlier, but I really did not want any of you to know. I guess you have to know now. I hope all of you have an exciting year. (But don't get too excited, Pansy, or he'll think you're odd!) Also, I will send the potions supplies I borrowed back to you as soon as I can, Millicent. Thank you so much for letting me use them. Thank you all so much for everything. I will be going to Ilvermorny in the United States. I heard it is lacking in eligible boys! I will write as often as I can.
With much love,
Sally-Anne
"That's sad that she had to leave," Astoria said distantly.
Daphne had no concept of exactly how poor Sally-Anne must have been if she couldn't even buy her textbooks. To Daphne, Rhiannon was beneath her but Sally-Anne was not. Maybe this would teach Daphne something about humility.
Daphne whined, "Now we have Heather Thatcham in our dorm. She doesn't seem too happy about it."
Astoria hardly knew Sally-Anne, but she would miss her as well. The quiet girl had a calmative effect on Parkinson. If Thatcham ended up not liking Parkinson, then Parkinson would throw her frustration all over the school.
"So, the letter said something about a boy thinking Parkinson was odd…" Astoria brought up, having a cold feeling about the details.
"Yeah, Malfoy," Daphne said irritably. "Ever since they started dating, she hasn't shut up about him. Draco this and Draco that. I like him even less now simply because of her!"
Astoria coughed the taste out of her mouth. Of course Parkinson and Draco would be dating. An established relationship between them was bound to make everyone else miserable. Parkinson would act even sillier than usual, and Draco's ego would shoot through the roof as his compliment-feeder followed him around. They would make an unstoppable team of bullies. Daphne had said that Parkinson had been mentally dating Draco for four years. That fact showed itself in the most annoying way. She would drop her books to have him pick them up, glare at every girl who even said one sentence to him, sit next to or close to him at every breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and the way that she held his arm at the Yule Ball still made Astoria cringe. Yet Parkinson had what she wanted, and a happy Parkinson was better than an angry one. If, on the off chance, she would leave Astoria alone, it would be ideal.
"I can't believe he'd date her," Astoria murmured.
"I can't believe she'd date him!" Daphne countered. "What a joy all of this will be!"
Astoria was too uninteresting for Daphne to actually stick around after that. Rhiannon and Hestia slept until the train pulled into the station at Hogsmeade. They were extremely drowsy, and needed much encouragement to get off the train.
"Flora, whaddya say you lemme see that book when you're done?" Rhiannon mumbled.
"This? It's a bit dry, Rhiannon," said Flora of her legal compendium.
With the Impervius Charm against the light rain, Astoria remained dryer than Flora's book as they got into a vacant carriage set off for school.
"I wish I had a self-powered carriage to take me to classes," Rhiannon said.
"Oh, they're not self-powered," Hestia said, overcoming her drowsiness. "Thestrals pull them. They're ghost horses."
"Ghost horses?" Astoria questioned. She was usually able to see ghosts.
"They aren't ghosts, Hestia. You just can't see them," Flora corrected.
She put her nose in her book even though it was too dark to read.
"You can only see the horses if you've seen someone die," Hestia whispered to Rhiannon, but her whispers weren't very quiet. Out of curiosity, other students in the carriage started squinting ahead unsuccessfully. Flora unsuccessfully pretended to read.
When they reached the Great Hall, Rhiannon and Hestia sat down at the Slytherin table and immediately rested their heads. The two both had nocturnal sleeping cycles over the summer, and the school schedule consequently disagreed with them. Rhiannon said that she had a habit of listening to music and enjoying the peace of the night, and Hestia noted that she often wrote potions recipes as they came to her, feeling that she wouldn't have the same ideas in the mornings. However, Flora, who suffered from insomnia, was wide awake. Her body had nearly adapted itself to work on five hours of sleep. Yet the other girls were never quite sure when she was grumpy from lack of sleep or grumpy because of her personality.
Astoria became grumpy herself as Draco Malfoy and his gang decided to sit near her own group. However, he did not have much of a chance to annoy her before the Sorting Ceremony started. The worn brown hat was set in the middle of the hall and began to sing. When Astoria was Sorted the previous year, the song that the hat sang had worried her. By the description of the Houses, Astoria feared that she would be sorted into Hufflepuff as Parkinson expected her to be. This time, however, Astoria grew uneasy at the story within the song. As the hat sang the line, "Slytherin took only pure-blood wizards of great cunning just like him," many heads at their table turned to stare at Rhiannon. She was only half-awake; otherwise, she might have made an unkind gesture in return. Rhiannon was known to many as "Slytherin's Blot." She was reportedly the first Muggle-born to ever be sorted into Slytherin. Many a slur was thrown at her on a daily basis ever since her exposure. She hated every moment of it until Professor Lupin had told her she was Sorted into Slytherin because she was strong and capable of making a change. Astoria, seeing Rhiannon pick pills off of her clothing, didn't view her as a Slytherin revolutionary. All she wanted was for Rhiannon to have a normal life.
The hat's song continued to bother Astoria as it sang:
"Hogwarts is in danger from external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you
Let the Sorting now begin."
How scary that must have been for the first years! Astoria picked at her fingernails and looked over at the terrified children about to be Sorted. The last things they needed to be thinking about were deadly foes. Perhaps Astoria needed to think of something else as well. Every time the Sorting Hat called "Slytherin," the table grew loud with cheers. Rhiannon ogled each child that approached the table, looking for an underlying nervousness in their expressions other than that for a new school. She had a penetrating stare that even Astoria was still not used to, and a couple of the kids glanced back at Rhiannon when they could feel her looking.
"Not one," Rhiannon said, all lethargy now absent from her voice.
"Not one what?" Astoria asked.
"Muggle-born," Rhiannon said.
"You don't know that," Astoria whispered.
"They heard the pure-blood thing in the song. Believe me, they would act a lot different if they was like me."
"Maybe it didn't register," Astoria said, though she herself did not believe that there was another Muggle-born.
"Oh, it would have," Rhiannon sighed.
After the feast, the headmaster announced some usual rules and regulations and then introduced two new teachers, Professor Grubbly-Plank and Professor Umbridge. They were to teach Care of Magical Creatures and Defence Against the Dark Arts, respectively.
"Where's Hagrid gone to?" Rhiannon asked no one in particular, furrowing her brow.
Astoria did not take Care of Magical Creatures, but Rhiannon had said that Professor Hagrid was an amusing teacher who was rather underappreciated for all of his hard work.
Then they watched the woman in pink. She was wearing clothing for which she was fifty years too old, and had a broad, wrinkled face with eyes that looked large from even such a distance. Professor Umbridge, with that pink sweater and a butterfly brooch, did not look like a Dark Arts teacher at all to Astoria, and the way she interrupted the headmaster as he was speaking was an immense surprise. Manners seemed to have no place in the world any longer. As Umbridge addressed the students as though she was a new babysitter, people at every table began to giggle. Umbridge then lowered her voice and spoke of the importance of magical education. The second she mentioned "our ancestors," Rhiannon spat air. Very few students gave the woman much attention throughout her six-minute speech of rubbish. After the speech and a few words from Headmaster Dumbledore, Draco, Parkinson, and the other Slytherin prefects led the students down to the dungeons. The familiar room with faded floral wallpaper, large metal chandeliers, uncomfortable leather sofas, and the underwater window came into view. It had the smell of burning firewood and old books. Astoria considered it peculiarly welcoming, but it was definitely time to leave it for a good night's rest in the tiny Room 106. Once the girls arrived there, it was not long before they fell asleep — excluding Flora.
Four schedules were stuffed under the door on Monday morning. Astoria would be taking Astronomy on Mondays and Tuesdays at eight o'clock and on Wednesdays at ten-thirty. She had the Study of Ancient Runes on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and Arithmancy on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Flora was still in Muggle Studies and Arithmancy, whereas Hestia had dropped out of Arithmancy and continued to take Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures. Rhiannon was in the same elective classes as Hestia and was also taking Divination. It was time to start the new school year.
As the girls were walking to breakfast, Flora said in a tone nobody liked, "Looks like you have Astronomy tonight."
"I do," Astoria said.
"You're taking your O.W.L. this year?"
"Yes."
"I heard they're terrible," Flora pestered.
"The Astronomy one shouldn't be bad for her — right, Astoria?" Rhiannon said admiringly.
"It can't be. I have to pass it so I can take the advanced classes in the following years."
It really is the rest of your life, Astoria kept thinking.
Breakfast seemed to last forever, and though many students near her were talking, Astoria only heard noise. Her morning classes went much as they had the previous year. Herbology was disgusting right from day one, Transfiguration was mentally and physically exhausting, and "History of Magic" was merely a euphemism for nap-time. At lunch, Draco was reflecting on what a great Potions class he had since Harry Potter got no credit whatsoever for his potion. He said to some of the boys in Astoria's class that they had to make a Draught of Peace, which relieves tenseness and calms agitation. Astoria would have purchased a year's supply of those draughts in preparation the O.W.L. exam if she actually trusted the safety of the fifth years' concoctions.
"Whoa, you look awful," Draco said to Astoria.
"Why, thank you, Draco," Astoria said quietly. Her sandwich was left untouched; Astronomy class was a huge shadow hovering over her.
"No, I don't mean like that," he said with a grin. "I meant you look ill."
The only thing she managed to eat was her fruit salad.
"Are you finishing that sandwich?" Curtis Evercreech asked loudly from a distance away, having finished his shepherd's pie. Astoria slid her plate down the table.
"Hey, Greengrass," Parkinson squawked. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Why would we have seen each other?" Astoria asked.
"Did you have Charms already?" Parkinson continued.
"No."
"Oh, I should have known. The room hasn't caught fire yet."
"Clever, Parkinson," Astoria said and put her head down until the bells rang.
Double charms went quite well. Astoria managed to complete all of the warm-up spells without overdoing or underperforming anything. She felt much better than she had in her previous classes.
"I don't think you'll much care for Astronomy anymore," Draco suddenly said to Astoria as though he was previously in some rude discussion about her. Astoria put her conversation about Transfiguration with Hestia on hold.
"Do tell me more," Astoria jeered.
"You're two years ahead. There's no way you'll make it past the O.W.L. Blaise thinks it'd be better for you to drop out and take fourth-year Astronomy again."
"Blaise thinks everyone should drop out of the whole school."
Malfoy snorted.
"I'm telling you, Astoria, don't let him bother you," Rhiannon said. "He's just upset that he can't even point out his own namesake in the sky."
Astoria recalled, "He's actually not bad in the class."
"He's not as good as you. He knows you're going to get the best mark on the O.W.L."
"Well, there are several bright Hufflepuffs in my class."
Rhiannon leaned in as if to tell Astoria a secret but simply said, "Hey, you listen to me and not him, all right?"
"All right," Astoria conceded.
Rhiannon bit her lip when she smiled.
Astoria decided to go to Astronomy earlier that evening so she wouldn't have to walk up the stairs with the fifth-years. When she entered, Professor Sinistra merely nodded a greeting, for Astoria had caught her in the middle of eating a Chocolate Frog.
"Good evening, Professor," Astoria said.
"Good evening, Astoria. Did you have a nice holiday?" Professor Sinistra asked as she made several diagrams of planets on her desk unfold and float in the air.
"Yes, did you?" Astoria asked.
"Were you able to see Sagittarius well last month?" the professor pressed.
"…I was; I saw it from my balcony. I had to wait until it wasn't cloudy, though."
"Ah, when you become an astronomer, you'll get your licence to use Atmospheric Charms and you will not have that problem… Now, aren't there stars with planetary bodies in Sagittarius?" Professor Sinistra challenged.
"Erm… twenty… twenty-one…?" Astoria said unsurely.
"Twenty-two," Sinistra said, smiling faintly.
Astoria silently chastised herself.
"Welcome back, everyone," Professor Sinistra said unenthusiastically as the fifth-years began to file in and take seats at random. She was met with a few hellos containing the same level of eagerness, and then she took attendance. She had a blank piece of parchment and a quill ready on her desk.
"It's time to find a partner and write your name on the chart. I do understand that we now have an odd number due to the Ministry's new policies," — her voice became more solemn than it already had been at this, and Astoria was reminded of Sally-Anne's absence — "so there will be one group of three. I'm sure we are all mature enough to decide of whom that consists, but I will choose the last group if you create a problem out of this. You will need to pick someone you can complete charts and projects with, so your best friend might not be the best choice. Understood?"
In an immature manner, the fifth-years hurried to pair up with their best friends. Astoria remembered that she had waited for the last person the previous September, but Tracey Davis had thankfully joined her. Astoria glanced at Tracey on the other side of the room. She looked to be paired with Maxwell Lazenby this year, and understandably so, since they were dating. In only a matter of two minutes, almost everyone had a partner, and Astoria felt the dread seeping in. The remaining Slytherin students were Millicent Bulstrode, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini, and Astoria could not imagine cooperating with any one of them.
I could have chosen a Hufflepuff, someone nice, if I had the confidence to ask, Astoria thought angrily. But even having Daphne as a partner would be better than this!
The Hufflepuffs were all waiting in the queue at the parchment, and no possible combination was a good one at this point. Blaise Zabini would refuse to be her partner, so she did not have to worry about him. But Parkinson was sadistic, and Millicent could always use a punching bag. The four were moving to the centre of the room to figure out the partners, and Astoria's heart raced. She was not giving answers to anybody; she was not going to put up with interruptions during the professor's lectures; she most certainly was not being paired with Pansy Parkinson. All of the sudden, Draco Malfoy didn't seem so bad in comparison with the others, and Astoria quickly intercepted him before he went to talk to them.
"Draco-will-you-please-be-my-partner?" she asked in a more frantic voice than she had intended. He looked as though he was immediately paralysed.
"I'm-sorry-please?" she blubbered, still too frantically. "I'll help you with the charts."
The emotion slowly spread over his face once more, but it was not an emotion Astoria liked. She knew that impish grin all too well.
"Need a partner, do you?" he asked in a teasing voice. "Why don't you take Millicent or Pansy?"
"Draco, don't do this. You know I can't stand Parkinson, and Millicent's looked like she's wanted to hit me since day one," Astoria said, hushed and hurriedly. Professor Sinistra was looking exasperatedly at the remaining students — a threatening sign that she would take over shortly.
"You can't stand me, either," he said with his nose in the air like he was proud of that fact.
Astoria did not dare look back at Parkinson, who was probably showing symptoms of rabies at the moment.
"I can stand you more than I can stand them," Astoria said out of the corner of her mouth.
No, no, she thought after choking back a scream of frustration. Don't get emotional if you end up with the other idiots.
"Hm, I don't know…" he teased with sickly-sweet cruelty.
"All right. Sit down with Miss Greengrass, Mr Malfoy," the professor commanded. "You three over there may take the larger table in the back."
Professor Sinistra grabbed her parchment and wrote down their names. Astoria sighed with relief as Draco sat down in the chair next to her. It would have been a living nightmare if she was with any of the other three. And one of them was staring at Astoria from behind — she could feel it.
"Hey, Pansy," Draco called. "Looks like I'll be getting an Outstanding on my O.W.L. Don't worry — I'll share her notes with all of you."
High-pitched, forced laughter followed, but there was a hint of rage in it that perhaps only Astoria could hear. She was in very dangerous waters. It was sheer luck that Draco and Parkinson had been far apart at the beginning of class so that she was able to intercept him, but Parkinson would hex Astoria later if she did not sprint all the way back to her dormitory.
"I know it's only the first day, but we have to get moving for the O.W.L. Oh, I don't think all of you can see these…" said Professor Sinistra, turning to face her suspended diagrams. She took out her wand and said "Engorgio," making one of the diagrams expand to the size of a blackboard.
"These are all of Jupiter. You should copy this first diagram into your notes. You will have an assignment on this that I'll hand out when you are done copying. Don't whine."
Several students whined simply because they had been told not to. Astoria copied the diagram and made her own notes as Draco watched her like she was a specimen in a lab.
"She didn't give us notes," he said. "Just the diagram. You know that, right?"
"Of course I know that. I take my own notes. The ones you said you'd steal. See?" she said, sliding her parchment in front of him.
"'Jupiter has a small axial tilt, and, as such, it lacks notable seasons,'" Draco quoted from her notes. "You're annoying me already, Greengrass."
"You're annoying me," she said, pointing to his parchment which had doodles of fanged creatures. "I'm not going to give you answers because you're my partner when you don't make an effort. Tracey and I took notes together. She did the diagrams and definitions, and I wrote key concepts and lists."
"Not my style. A minute ago you were begging me to be your partner; I think you could be a little appreciative."
"I think not. You were going to walk away before Professor Sinistra told you to sit down."
"You don't know I'd do that."
"Yes, I do."
Draco made a face and drew a lopsided shape, labelling it Jupiter. He took the information from the diagram down quickly and added no extra notes, just as Astoria was wont to do in Transfiguration. He then looked up at Astoria as though he was expecting praise.
"The more work you do, the happier I will be to help you later," Astoria said.
"I don't need help from a third-year," Draco smirked.
"I'm a fourth-year, and a fifth-year astronomer," Astoria returned, insulted.
"Fifth-year Astronomy student," corrected Draco.
Astoria grumbled and continued to take her own notes as the professor went through the rest of the diagrams. Astoria was going to be stuck with Draco for the rest of the year. At the same time, whenever she thought of what it would have been like with Parkinson, Blaise, or Millicent, Draco's presence was more and more welcome.
Tuesdays for the fourth-year Slytherins promised to be busy. After breakfast they went right to History of Magic, where they could catch another hour and a half of sleep. Astoria did not feel guilty about it; she was certain she would have paid more attention if the events in the lectures dealt with times not far beyond recall to even the oldest wizard living.
The Study of Ancient Runes was particularly enjoyable that day. Astoria and Montel were trying to translate a small script which Professor Babbling gave the students to refresh their minds. Astoria came up with, "Several later nephews will endure bright sunlight during learning hours." Montel finished with, "Many secondary children will go happily into the sun in school."
"Did everyone get 'Many children in future generations will have a brilliant education in school?'" Professor Babbling asked the class.
Astoria and Montel nodded, and then chuckled when she walked out of earshot.
Professor Snape did not greet or welcome the students to the start of another year and put them straight to work on antidotes. Rhiannon and Hestia were particularly confident with wound-cleaning potion and finished theirs roughly ten minutes before Astoria. The other girls' potions were bright purple with smoke rising slowly over the brim of the cauldron. Astoria's was more of an indigo and had smoke that swirled.
"It should be fine," Ginevra Weasley said reassuringly from a desk over. Her potion looked very similar to Astoria's.
They each got a phial full of their potions and brought them to the professor's desk. Professor Snape did not think Astoria's and Ginny's were satisfactory, and gave them one of those teacher-specific looks that said "You can do much better than this." He held Rhiannon's and Hestia's phials up without a word.
"We did everything it said to do in our books," Ginny mumbled.
"I highly doubt that, Miss Weasley. How either of you could gloss over something is beyond me," he snarled and then added, "And even one of my own students!" as he faced Astoria. It took much of her euphoria away.
Extracting magical, malodorous plant fluids in Herbology was revolting and would never fail to be so. In Transfiguration, Astoria turned a gerbil into a rabbit instead of a hare and got points taken away. She became irritable, and argued that they were essentially the same thing.
"Rabbits and hares are not the same thing, Miss Greengrass," Professor McGonagall stated icily. "I didn't think I would need to explain how they are different species in order for you to complete this Transfiguration successfully."
"Right, rabbits are cuter," Astoria muttered as the professor walked away.
It was not until her first D.A.D.A. class that Astoria decided she had a bad day.
Upon entering the classroom, the students' noses were assaulted by a tacky perfume and the smell of drawing salve. Astoria idled in the middle of the room waiting for Rhiannon before she realised that Rhiannon was already situated in the very back of the classroom.
"I'm not sitting anywhere near that office," Rhiannon mumbled before adding, "Bet she keeps the rest of the blue-rinse brigade camping out in there."
Once all of the students took their seats, Professor Umbridge stood up and gave them a cheery greeting that was obviously forced. They returned with another forced greeting, some with mocking voices.
"Please put your wands away," she instructed.
A large amount of pointless notes appeared on the board as the professor tapped her wand to it. Doing exactly what she nagged at Draco for, Astoria quickly copied them down without any deep-brain processing. Whilst the other students copied notes throughout the class, Astoria could rest.
"Well," Professor Umbridge said, "It is to my knowledge that the students here have had mixed curriculums for each year in Defence Against the Dark Arts, many of which were not approved by the Ministry, I dare say. Not to worry, though, for we will have a Ministry-approved, theoretical course this year which will be properly organised and thorough."
"Theoretical…?" Rhiannon whispered. "Does she mean we aren't doing…?"
"Hem, hem," the professor coughed. "It appears we have a talkative student here."
"Sorry," Rhiannon grunted. She proceeded to rock her chair back and forth in the floor cracks — a favourite pastime of hers for this class. It made an irksome scratching noise that she never seemed to hear.
"Everyone has their copy of Defensive Magical Theory, I presume?" Professor Umbridge asked.
The students nodded or mumbled "yeah."
"I think it would be in accordance to say 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or perhaps 'No, Professor Umbridge,' wouldn't it?"
"…Yes, Professor Umbridge," the students drawled.
At least she's teaching them some manners, even if she doesn't have her own, Astoria thought. She did not like this professor, but a full reply was always nice in Astoria's opinion.
"Then open your textbooks and read 'Chapter One: Basics for Beginners,'" Professor Umbridge said.
The students did open their textbooks but could not read it. It was terribly boring, and it rambled endlessly about the history of defensive magic and why not to use it. The class was so monotonous and prisonlike that Astoria almost hoped that Rhiannon would make trouble of some sort. It seemed extremely odd, though, that Rhiannon was the tamest one in the entire room. She kept her head down; her fair eyelashes flicked in the bright sunlight from the windows, and it was the only way Astoria knew she was awake. The professor kept making strange little noises until Astoria glued her eyes back to the book. Thus, the toil continued. Astoria was left with a sinking feeling that all D.A.D.A. classes would be like sitting in a padded room with a malodorous smell and being forced to read words of nothingness. What made it all worse was that even Astronomy class could not make up for the dreadful time that Astoria had had in D.A.D.A.
Professor Sinistra gave a long lecture on Jupiter's moons and then assigned more questions and an essay. She allowed the students to start on them during the rest of the class, though very few took advantage of that time. Astoria, one of the few, pushed Draco's supplies out of her elbow space after he left their project to go talk with Parkinson. She worked on some of the questions about the Galilean moons, but three of the questions were those troublesome ones that also asked "why." Astoria was severely tempted to write "Because it just worked out that way when space was made" as the second part of the answer. She ended up working on her essay alone instead, though she had great trouble stringing words together. It was impossible to focus with Parkinson's giggling echoing throughout the room. Astoria turned to see Parkinson and Draco sitting unnecessarily close at the back table. Astoria faced her undeveloped report again and wished with all of her might that class was over.
Wednesday's Defence Against the Dark Arts class consisted of nothing but reading the useless book and "listening" to Umbridge blather about how not to be protected against the Dark arts. Astronomy that night had not improved. The students were supposed to work with their partners to finish the piles of homework they had been assigned, but Draco did not have that in mind. He left his homework in Astoria's elbow room again and went to the back desk with his friends.
"Do you intend to stay back there the whole class?" Astoria called after several minutes.
She then noticed that Vince Crabbe and Greg Goyle were scratching their heads at a nearby table; Draco was actually only sitting with Parkinson. He turned his head in a manner indicating that Astoria had interrupted the most important of conversations, gave a smile full of sarcasm, and said, "Yes. If it bothers you so much, you could do my homework for me."
Parkinson forced several ear-piercing giggles. Astoria gave the pair a scowl and continued to write her Jupiter report, with each word becoming harder and harder to form in her head. After all other noise seemed to have drowned out except for Parkinson's laughter, Astoria made the decision to go outside and stargaze. She took her telescope and went up the spiral staircase until she reached the observation deck. A chilling wind clashed against her face as soon as she stepped outside. She set up her telescope and looked first for Capricornus, its peak height being less than a week before. Looking at the stars relaxed her, and time must have passed quickly — what felt like twenty minutes was actually forty.
"Class is over and Sinistra's looking for you," Draco called from the stairwell. It made an unpleasant echo that severely startled Astoria.
"What…? Oh my," Astoria said to herself. "Where is she?"
"In the room, crying. She rounded up the class as a search party for you," Draco said.
"She did not," Astoria replied. "She's not crying."
"All right, she sent me up here after badgering me about not helping you. As if you'd accept any help."
Astoria folded up her telescope.
"Students aren't allowed up here after class hours. If you don't hurry up, I'll give you detention," he said haughtily.
"Stop being so full of yourself," she retorted as they started down the stairwell.
"Me? You're the one who's 'too good' for this class, so you decided to come up here all alone and make your own curriculum."
"I did not. I came up here to get away from that terrible girlfriend of yours."
"Watch your mouth, Greengrass. She wasn't even bothering you. We weren't even near you."
"She was certainly loud enough. I could hear her all the way from my seat."
"If she was that loud, Sinister Sinistra would have been hysterical. I think you could hear Pansy because you were trying to."
"Trying! You're absolutely ridiculous!" Astoria snapped as she opened the classroom door. Everyone had left the room except for the professor.
"Did you see how high Capricornus was, Astoria?" she asked softly.
"Yes. I spotted it at once. I tried to find Sagitta, but I didn't see it."
"It's so small that it practically disappears in the blanket of the sky," Professor Sinistra muttered. "You have to focus carefully… then you will see it."
"I'll be sure to next time! Goodnight, Professor." Astoria said.
"Goodnight."
Draco was standing by the stair railing.
"You shouldn't have waited for me," Astoria huffed.
"Wrong. It'd be awkward to be only twenty feet from each other the whole way back."
Astoria had to admit that he had a good point, but a forty-five minute walk with him might drive her mad. There was nothing that could be done, though, and Astoria left the room with one of the most exasperating people she knew. She withstood the quiet discomfiture until she noticed that the door on the next level down was open.
"What's in there?" she asked curiously.
"That? That's the Astronomy library."
"Astronomy library!" Astoria exclaimed. "How did I not know about this?"
Draco laughed. "Only the first years and the N.E.W.T. classes use it."
"First years use it, and we don't? What's in there…?"
Astoria rerouted herself back to the library door, but Draco told her that the first years were coming up the stairs and needed to go in there. Naturally, children from all four Houses soon clambered exhaustedly up the staircase and filed into the library.
"The first years have to do a lot of projects, but they don't have textbooks. They use the materials in there."
A clumsy Gryffindor girl bumped into Draco on the stairs, and he scowled.
"You know, I'm glad we've only two Houses in Astronomy in the fourth and fifth year. I know Sinistra does that because the material's more important and it's hard to get everyone's attention, but I don't think I could've taken another year of making the trip up here with the Gryffindors. Sorry to say you'll be stuck with the other three Houses in your N.E.W.T. classes. Not everybody gets into those."
"You aren't taking N.E.W.T. Astronomy?" Astoria questioned him instantly.
Draco showed a perplexed expression, and Astoria regained her poise.
"Why should I?"
"When you actually try, you do well in it."
"That must be something by your standards. I, on the other hand, am not so sure about that."
Astoria knew that Draco was perfectly sure and was merely seeking more praise. She chose not to respond to him. Fire crackled loudly in the torches on the stone walls but failed to provide much light.
"What do you suppose is in the rest of these rooms?" Astoria asked, trying to make conversation as they passed many locked doors. Luckily, Draco was still feeling talkative even after speaking with Parkinson for ages, and his voice made Astronomy Tower much less intimidating.
"I know there's a conference room from when the Astronomy department was larger. Sinistra's room's probably here somewhere, too. The rest are likely storage. I'll bet half of them are even empty," Draco replied. "Since you're technically a second-year, you really haven't seen much of this castle, have you?"
"Correction: this is my second year here. I am still a fourth-year. But yes, I haven't seen much other than what's on the way to the classrooms and Great Hall."
"You don't take Care of Magical Creatures, do you? So you haven't seen much of the grounds, either," Draco figured.
"I saw quite a bit from the Triwizard Tournament, actually. When classes ended last year, I walked round outside quite a bit."
"But you haven't seen the Forbidden Forest."
"That's because it's forbidden… although I wouldn't be surprised if you wandered in there."
"They threw me in there for detention in my first year!" he said defensively. "It was cruel and unusual punishment."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Astoria revoked.
"Wasn't too bad," Draco said bravely.
They reached the Grand Staircase and continued down. The people in the portraits had gone to sleep, but Peeves the Poltergeist was making plenty of noise with the CRACK — CRACK — CRACK of gumballs as he flicked them against the paintings to wake them up.
"What time would you say it is?" Astoria asked.
"Probably near midnight," Draco guessed.
Astoria peeked over the handrail and looked at the stairs below.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for the rest of our class," she said. "I think I saw people on the fourth floor staircase."
"You'd rather run down the stairs to the fourth floor than walk with me?" Draco teased.
"I was curious as to how far ahead of us they were."
Astoria figured that she should try to prove him wrong, even though walking with the other students would have been a more comfortable situation.
"So…What do you think of Professor Umbridge?
"I barely know her — I've been sleeping," he shrugged.
"She doesn't catch you?" Astoria questioned.
"Nobody catches you when you sit behind Goyle," Draco informed.
"You have Quidditch practice coming up, don't you?" she asked, muffling her chuckles with her hand.
"Yeah, and we were pushing for trials today, but those idiot Gryffindors reserved the field today and tomorrow, so we have to wait until Friday. …What, are you actually going to watch Quidditch?"
"Rhiannon will probably haul me to it," Astoria said.
He said nothing. She pretended to cough.
"What is it like being a prefect?"
"It'll do," he said. "I get to scare people, but I'm also in charge of detentions sometimes. That gets boring after a while. Take my advice, and make someone else do it."
"I don't exactly need that advice, do I?"
"When you're a prefect, I mean."
"You actually think I'll be a prefect? I don't think I will."
"I just thought you would, since all the teachers like you."
"Professor Sprout doesn't. Professor McGonagall isn't fond of me, either. And Umbridge—"
"Umbridge doesn't count," he said.
"Okay," Astoria uttered.
"Do you still have Music on the fifth floor?" Draco asked.
"No, the band and I don't take that any longer," she explained.
"'The band and I!' Aren't you high-and-mighty," he said.
"You're one to talk, Draco. Do you know that our album has sold over seven-hundred copies already?"
"That so?"
"At two-thousand domestic sales, a record can be certified Silver, you know," she added.
"Watch your nose doesn't hit the ceiling," Draco sniffed.
A few moments of the two trying to out-swagger one another passed before Draco enquired, "Does your family still hold their Vernal Feast?"
"No, we gave up doing that after three-hundred seventy years," Astoria answered sarcastically. "Of course we still hold it."
"Is your part of the family still in, er, what was it…?"
"Penhurst? Yes."
"Penhurst?"
"That's merely a nicer way of saying I live in the middle of the woods near Battle. Where do you live?" she asked.
"The middle of the woods near Salisbury."
So it was true that Draco didn't have much in the way of social interaction as a young child, either. Perhaps that would explain his ignorance of certain social protocols. Yet as long as they weren't speaking about Rhiannon, Draco was not the worst person with whom to have a conversation.
When they reached the second floor, Astoria's eyes were drawn to the corridor off the landing. Dark and still, it looked as though daytime never existed in that part of the castle. A disused lavatory with a broken mirror remained haunted not only by a sorrowed ghost but also by the silenced rage Astoria was bound to sense if she ever stepped foot in it again. Astoria never truly knew Rhiannon until the girl had had a breakdown in that lavatory in May. Rhiannon told Astoria that she had been attacked by a basilisk that sensed her Muggle lineage when she was in her first year. Exposed instantly, Rhiannon faced harassment from her classmates to this day.
"You all right?" Draco drawled.
Astoria turned to him but fell speechless. Rhiannon was almost killed for her blood status, and here was Draco Malfoy, completely content to bully her about her being Muggle-born. The only thing preventing Astoria from having a fit was the look of genuine concern on his face; her feelings about talking to him were so uncomfortably mixed. As her eyes drew to the corridor once again, she screamed and grabbed Draco's sleeves. Yellow eyes were emerging from the depths of the gloom and rocking up and down as they slinked toward them.
"The hell‽" Draco shouted and looked in the same direction. Initially startled, his shoulders sank with relief after a moment.
"It's that cat, Astoria. Filch's cat," he assured as the skinny feline ambled onto the landing.
Astoria nodded, and Draco motioned for her to continue down the stairs. Thinking about the basilisk had put her on edge. How embarrassing.
"What? Need me to hold your hand again?" mocked Draco, twisting his arm which she held.
It was true that she could not bring herself to let go of him, but it was nothing like their first meeting on the Hogwarts Express when she had wanted to hold his hand. It was what he had said to her before the summer holiday that kept her in fear. She was a target, a target, and the word would not leave her head. Her mind had already convinced her that a basilisk had been sent to kill her, that the cat was not the only thing in the halls. She could both hear and feel her heart beating in her ears, and she had to retrieve something sharp to say from the back of her head in order to cancel out the emotion her body forced her to exhibit.
"If you held my hand, Parkinson would cut off your hands and keep them in a jar."
Draco wiggled his fingers involuntarily.
"Huh, I remember when you used to speak like a lady."
"Is that so?"
They left the second floor, and Astoria was able to release Draco's arm on the stairs.
"Well, you never spoke like a lady around me."
"Accordingly."
Since her tongue was always barbed with him, Draco must have only heard her ladylike speech when eavesdropping on her conversations in the Great Hall. It was always irritating when he did that since she had to be careful of what she said even to her friends. However, she almost felt sorry for Draco. It was clear that his conversations with his friends at the table were always superficial. In fact, she never actually saw Draco in a serious conversation with anyone he was friendly with, even Parkinson. Mostly, he just joked with them. With anyone else, he would find something offensive to say. The oddest thing was that despite his apparent popularity, Draco was usually the one to speak first to get others to talk to him. He was a ring-leader of indifferent acquaintances who had nothing better to do than listen to his snide bantering. Where was anyone who would listen to him?
Would it become Parkinson? Improbably. She always looked awestruck around him and could not be expected to actually catch anything he said. He most likely recognised that, but it was the only serious attention given to him, so he had to make do with it.
So why would he give so much attention to me? Astoria wondered. I'm just the little sister of his classmate that he met on the train.
The train. Of course, the train. He had to mention it again even though it happened one year prior. On the train, in those few fleeting moments, Draco smote Astoria when he grabbed her hand to help her off the floor. He likely saw that in her face… most people likely did. Knowing Draco's ego, he probably appreciated it a little too much. He probably missed it now that it was gone.
There were countless glaring problems that prevented Astoria's ease of walking with him. The first and largest issue was that Draco was a blood supremacist. The absurdity of that belief was never going to pass with Astoria; it angered her to her core. The second was that Draco was far too arrogant, especially for someone who still had forty-two seconds of Astoria's fondness fresh in his mind. The third was that he could be appallingly inconsiderate, and the fourth was Parkinson.
There were more countless glaring problems, right?
Astoria swore in her head at her realisation. Draco Malfoy, minus his prejudice, minus his arrogance, and minus his selfishness would equal something half-decent after all. When he talked to Astoria about anything in earnest, he had a good sense of humour. He spoke leisurely with an amusingly rural drawl that tickled her ears. He was intelligent, respectably so, and it was really a wonder why he nevertheless bought into such brainless theories about blood purity. His smile had always been charming when it wasn't snide. Astoria wanted to see it more often. She couldn't help it; she even liked the way he moved. But the scales were too tipped. She couldn't tolerate the way he acted, and that was the end of the fantasy. It was all so horribly exasperating.
How were they near the basement already? She had been walking with him for a long time but had said so little. Perhaps if she started harmless conversations, she could actually enjoy his company. Perhaps it was possible to be friendly with Draco Malfoy… he had wanted her to say they were friends but a few months ago… perhaps she was not crazy.
"I saw your mother at Twilfitt and Tattings," she randomly chose to say.
"I know. She was telling me what a nice young lady you were, but I knew better."
"I think she is nice."
Draco shrugged. "She's more sociable than Father, I guess."
"I haven't really met your father."
"That's all right," Draco said.
"It seems that our parents know each other," Astoria said. It felt awkward that she was just speaking about their parents, but she didn't have enough time to think of a better topic.
"I mean, our fathers both worked in the Ministry," Draco stated.
Astoria was out of things to say. It must have been silly to talk about their families.
"Your mother has a job at St. Mungo's?" Draco continued unexpectedly.
"Well, she volunteers there."
A moment later, Draco offered, "We give a lot to St. Mungo's."
"So do we. It's a good cause," Astoria said. "They greatly appreciate it."
"Yeah?" Draco looked at Astoria briefly.
"Of course," she said with a smile. Watching Draco ponder charity was incredibly interesting.
"Yeah," Draco said gauchely, "we've known your family a long time. My mother told me she helped your mother learn English when she first came here. Apparently your father didn't realise he ought to teach your mother English…"
"Interesting; I was never told that. Perhaps Father didn't realise she was coming to stay."
"I'm sure he was eager to teach you French after that, so you could pick one up from Beauxbatons, too," Draco laughed.
Astoria was hit with a mental pang that she had been trying to control: Philippe had not written to her since early August. He used to write more often. Astoria chose to keep the letters from him at home; they reminded her of what was absent more than what was tangible.
"I wasn't formally taught French. We've always spoken it at home along with English."
"Oh. My grandmother came from France. My father's ancestors came from France, too. I wasn't taught French, though, as you know. It must not be worth the trouble."
Astoria rolled her eyes at him.
The Slytherin common room only had a group of second-years who were up past their bedtime playing exhaustive rounds of chess.
"Go to your dormitories before I get you detention with Professor Snape," Draco threatened.
The startled second-years hesitated to move their chess pieces, but Draco was awfully intimidating to them despite his haircut. As they scurried away to avoid the much-feared detention sentence, they still managed to chatter about "Astoria Greengrass from Pariah." Draco jumped over the back of one of the couches and lay down on it as though he had no intention of getting to bed himself. Astoria, well aware that she could later regret it, sat in the chair nearby. Were Draco's ears red? Nonsense.
"I still can't get over that you sing," Draco tut-tutted. "Are you going to have concerts and things like that, or are you just going to hide in your producer's office?"
"It only makes sense that we would have concerts," replied Astoria. The band hadn't discussed that subject much.
"Your album was scary," he said.
She laughed inside; she was trying to test him to see how he would carry on without at least one fight per conversation. He looked at her for a long while as though he was waiting for her to react. She did not reply.
"I liked some of it, though," he decided to say.
"Oh?"
"I liked five songs."
"Thanks a lot. There were ten songs on the album."
"Rhiannon sang too much."
"She's part of the band, you know."
"Yeah, but you told me you were the vocalist."
"I sang in eight songs, Draco."
"Yeah, but she managed to croak out something on… what? Four songs? She's awful."
"You're so rude!"
"I'm merely giving you my critique."
"Don't downplay your ill will by labelling it as 'critique.'"
"Which songs did you write?"
"…What?"
"Which were the songs that you wrote, Astoria?"
"Ah, are you going to 'critique' them?"
"You're touchy, aren't you?"
Astoria straightened her back from the argumentative slouch she had assumed.
"Goodnight, Draco."
"Goodnight?"
Draco had hardly moved from his reclining position throughout the entire conversation, and rolled his head further sideways to observe Astoria's clear intent to leave.
"I haven't finished talking to you. Who's rude now?"
Astoria felt somewhat jailed in the room until she could get the upper hand in the argument. Why did everything with Draco have to be a quarrel? Astoria scrutinised him thoroughly. Every part of his façade was relaxed, yet his fingers rapped on the top of the couch's back — a gesture that would seem full of resolution if Astoria had not seen him tapping his fingers during difficult Astronomy tests. It was ultimately a nervous gesture.
"Well, what else would you like to say, Malfoy?"
"Coincidentally, Greengrass, I was about to say that 'The Things Unsaid' was my favourite song on that record of yours. I couldn't tell if you or Hestia had written it."
"Are you aware that all credits are written within the booklet?"
"I didn't look at the thing. I listened to it."
"I wrote 'The Things Unsaid.'"
"Are you claiming you wrote it because I said I liked it?" he smiled. His ears were red.
It was a question so stupid Astoria could answer it with one look.
Draco then said, "I should have known it was you. It didn't have any of Hestia's strange innuendos."
Astoria reclined in her chair. When Hestia wrote songs entirely on her own, as she had done with "Ivy," the results were calculatedly impish. It was funny that Draco had guessed who was behind it.
"I think she's listened to too many of those old love songs that didn't quite say what they meant and has developed the skill herself," Astoria said into her hand.
"Who's she writing all that schmaltz about?" Draco joked.
"I've honestly no idea," Astoria responded. It was true; if she was merely concealing information from Draco, she would have left out the "honestly."
"Who are you writing your schmaltz about?"
Even with one of the most tactless of questions posed, Draco still managed to channel all of his unease into the act of simply drumming his fingers. Astoria, on the other hand, felt her shoulders become stiff. Inhaling felt more like sniffing. She wanted to say "not you" will all of the attitude she could muster, but that would only stir him up into an argument.
It was past midnight. There were classes tomorrow. Draco and Astoria were now the only occupants of the common room. He wanted her to fancy him with absolutely no intention of becoming fond of her. He wanted somebody to fluster in addition to Parkinson. Astoria was sure that he wanted to use any feelings she might have shown for him against her. 'How can I complicate things for Astoria today?' she figured he must be thinking. 'It would be hilarious if she were to like me again. Think of all the rows I could cause between her and her Muggle-born friend!'
Draco was still watching her think his thoughts all through, and a smile grew on his face.
"It's hard to tell who you're talking about, is all. Your love songs are unadorned. There aren't clues for me to follow. I figured they were about that Beauxbatons prat until I saw the face you made when I mentioned him earlier," Draco elaborated slickly. "Did things with him fall through?"
"No, things with Philippe are fine, thank you."
"So it is about him? Huh. Can't say it's my favourite song now. Too bad, it's really catchy."
"It actually isn't about him," Astoria claimed. "It really isn't about anyone. I wrote a love song because my producer and my manager wanted some smoother songs on the album, and the others left me in charge of composing them and writing the lyrics. That song was one of the results."
"All right," Draco simpered. "Remember the whole world can hear you. Be your songs about French boys or Muggle-born rights. Just a thought, Astoria."
He slewed his legs off the couch and left for his dorm.