Chapter Two
Monsters
0o0
Astoria awoke the next morning to a thick band of golden sunlight streaming in from a high window to rest across her crimson blankets. Everything was deliciously quiet and for a long second Astoria had almost no idea where she was. Then, after a moment of desperate reflection, everything slowly came back to her.
She was at Hogwarts. She was a Gryffindor and so was Harry Potter, which meant that there was a slight chance the boys dormitory was now infested with rats? No, that couldn't be right...
Astoria turned her head and nudged her bed curtains further aside so that she could look at the five other identical, crimson four posters. Her sister Daphne was not sleeping in one of them, Astoria's mind prompted helpfully, because last night Daphne had been sorted into Slytherin.
Astoria got out of bed, eager to dress and meet the day. She began by searching her trunk for a skirt and a pair of stockings, becoming acquainted with the new bands of color around the cuffs of her robes and the Gryffindor crest that had appeared on the chest of her school garments overnight. Struck afresh by the magic of her new surroundings, Astoria stood very still, holding her school sweater and staring down at the lion that was now emblazoned on it. Astoria's family was going to react badly to this news. Her father would be politely surprised, of course, but her Aunt Belladonna would be furious. The only foreseeable upside of this turn of events was that Pansy would probably never talk to Astoria ever again. Fighting a bizarre urge to cackle out loud, Astoria dropped the sweater and continued rummaging.
"What's so funny?" asked a girl that Astoria recognized from the Sorting Ceremony. Lavender Brown was the name that Professor McGonagall had called. Lavender wriggled out of bed. She had a round face and a long nose that was perhaps purposefully downplayed by her mane of curly brown hair. Lavender's expression, as far as Astoria could tell, seemed to be one of almost permanent shock because that was the only look Astoria had seen on her face yet. Then again, perhaps Lavender's eyes were merely set that way.
"Nothing," said Astoria, stripping to her underwear and proceeding to button up her white school shirt. "I just didn't think I would end up in Gryffindor, is all."
"Oh," said Lavender, yawning. "Did you want something else?"
"Not really," Astoria smirked, zipping up her skirt, "but I think my family might have had other ideas about what would be best for me."
Lavender continued to watch as Astoria pulled on a pair of black tights and for a moment Astoria wondered, perhaps unfairly, if Lavender was something of a lesbian.
"My parents thought I would be in Hufflepuff," said Lavender at last, "but I think they will be really pleased with this. I'm Lavender by the way."
"Astoria."
For a moment, Astoria thought they might be expected to shake hands but Lavender showed no signs of moving.
"You're really pretty, you know," said Lavender finally, opening her own trunk. Something about Lavender's eyes were cold but her smile did not slip an inch. "I expect plenty of the boys in our year will prefer you."
Astoria put a pair of pearls into her ears. She had known enough girls at camps and programs to be able to recognize the ones that were prone to being boy crazy and Lavender fit the bill to a tee. Those girls had often made for cruel friends, in Astoria's experience.
"Thanks," said Astoria, trying not to let the moment grow awkward.
"We should swap shoes sometime," said Lavender pertly, "since we are going to be roommates and all. It looks like we're the same size and everything."
They smiled at each other tensely and there was something vaguely predatory in Lavender's look that warned Astoria against ever thinking that she was stupid.
It was a challenge to find the Great Hall for breakfast in her on and Astoria only managed the task by following several third years from the portrait hole down so as not to get lost. The castle, which had appeared so large from the outside, was in truth, absolutely immense and Astoria was very relieved when she reached the entrance hall, as this was where she began to recognize her location without help.
It was too early for the hall to be packed but there were some early risers filling the benches at the house tables. Astoria made her way to the Gryffindor table and poured herself coffee openly (there was no one around to tell her that she couldn't drink it anymore) and studied her fellow housemates.
Another of the girls Astoria had been sorted with the night before—Hermione Granger?—was sitting several seats away with a book propped open against a jug of pumpkin juice. Her eyes pinged from one side of the page to the other like a typewriter with such speed that Astoria looked away, feeling faintly dizzy.
At the bottom of the table was the redheaded boy Fred, who had catcalled Astoria on the train. Next to him was what appeared to be his identical reflection made flesh. Twins, Astoria realized with a smirk. Their friend Lee Jordan was there as well, and all three of them appeared to be in deep conversation, leaning in just close enough to mark their behavior as suspicious. Astoria wished they would look up, so she might have a reason to move and sit with them. It would certainly be nice to have somebody to eat breakfast with. Astoria was just considering invading the boys huddle anyway when another person caught her eye and won her attention entirely.
Her sister was sitting by herself at the Slytherin table, at the very end closest to the doors. She was sipping a juice miserably and staring about the hall in the same fashion as Astoria. Their eyes met and Astoria hesitated; she had been sorted into Gryffindor, surely she was supposed to eat at the appropriate table? Daphne bit her lip and made an unsure motion, a request for Astoria to join her.
There was no rule that said she couldn't sit with her sister, even if they were in different houses, was there? Astoria spotted several Ravenclaws congregating near the Hufflepuff table doing something similar, although the same search confirmed that there were no Gryffindors sitting at the Slytherin table. Astoria got up and made her way over to Daphne anyway, taking her coffee with her as she did so.
"Hey," said Astoria breathlessly, sitting down and moving aside a goblet to make room for her coffee mug. "How's it going?"
"How did this happen?" asked Daphne desperately.
"What are you talking about?" Astoria asked, reaching for a piece of toast.
"You! This!" Daphne's face was suddenly beseeching. "You're in Gryffindor! We were supposed to do this together!"
The toast turned to gravel in Astoria's mouth. It had never occurred to her that being sorted into another house would seem like a betrayal to Daphne. She had been thinking only of herself.
"I'm sorry," said Astoria, in what she hoped was a soothing voice. "It just worked out that way."
"I know, it's just—I mean, Gryffindor, of all houses?"
Astoria smirked at her. "You've always known I was a bit of revolutionary."
Daphne grinned slightly, perhaps relived to see that Astoria herself wasn't upset.
"Come on," said Astoria, knocking shoulders with her, "this isn't the worst. We don't have all of our classes together, but I'm sure some of them will work out that way and there's plenty of places to see each other other than our common rooms."
Daphne breathed out through her nose and relaxed slightly.
"What's this, an invasion?" asked a scathing voice. Astoria looked past Daphne into the rude face of Draco Malfoy, who had just arrived, flanked by the boulder boys, Crabbe and Goyle.
Astoria took a pointed bite of toast and chewed it slowly, trying not to smirk.
"You got your wish, didn't you?" continued Malfoy almost snidely. "What's stopping you from sitting at your own table?"
"Common decency, obviously," sang Pansy Parkinson as she walked by with the pair of Slytherin girls that Astoria had sat with on the train. The pack tittered and Pansy looked back around to see see if she would get a rise out of her.
"Not such good friends now, are we?" said Astoria tersely, taking another bite of toast.
"You always hated Pansy anyway," said Daphne reassuringly. "She's a two faced, simpering moron."
"That's high talk from the other Greengrass," said Draco Malfoy.
Astoria jumped. She had assumed that Draco had moved down the table to sit but a quick look confirmed that he was still behind them, his face fixed into a sneer. His gaze switched from Astoria, where it had been lingering, to Daphne. "I didn't even know you could speak."
Daphne flushed and looked away. She had spoken to make Astoria feel better but there was no doubt in Astoria's mind that Daphne had meant for her comment to be private. Daphne had to share a dorm with Pansy after all, and she wasn't nearly as instinctively put off by Pansy as Astoria was.
"Of course she can speak, she's not mute," snapped Astoria, "and what are you doing back there anyway? Stalking us?"
Malfoy went slightly pink. "You should probably watch the tongue Greengrass. Wouldn't want your Gryffindor pals to have to come save you on the first day."
Astoria stared at him blankly. She didn't have any Gryffindor pals. Was that the joke? Then she realized that Fred and his twin were waving at her enthusiastically from across the hall.
"Is that the boy who hit on you when we were on the train?" asked Daphne in surprise. "Did you become friends last night?"
Draco shot Astoria a look of such swift disgust that she very nearly burned under it.
"No," said Astoria quickly. "I mean yes, I think those are the boys from the train but I haven't seen them since. I don't even know who they are."
"I think one of the boys with red hair said his name was Fred," said Daphne, attempting to recall.
"It is," said Draco coldly. "Thats Fred and George Weasley. They're supposed to be jokers or something but everyone is Slytherin says they aren't very funny." He shifted his attention back to Astoria intently. "So it's you and Potter together then? Everybody's sponsoring a Weasley?"
Astoria made a face, "What's wrong with that? At least they're funny."
"Funny?" spat Draco, looking oddly flustered. "Funny looking, maybe."
They were interrupted at that instant by the morning mail. Astoria was well accustomed to owl post, but never before had she seen such a mighty ruckus of feathers and packaging. Hundreds and hundred of owls swooped in overhead en-masse, disrupting tureens of oatmeal and pitchers of milk. For a moment Astoria was dazzled and then an owl landed squarely on the table in front of them, splashing hot chocolate all over Daphne's shirt.
"What the—" gasped Daphne, but Astoria was already reaching forward to untie the letters that were attached the owl's leg. There was one each for Astoria and Daphne from their father. Astoria could tell which these were because both had been written on his stationary. There was a third letter however, this one on bright red parchment which Astoria knew before she even read the address was from her Aunt Belladonna Lestrange.
"Really?" wondered Astoria, taking in the red parchment in half disbelief.
"Is that a howler?" drawled Malfoy gleefully.
"It's not," said Daphne, although she still sounded fearful of her own logic. "Howlers rattle."
"Why's it on red parchment, then?" Malfoy argued, clearly hoping that the envelope would explode in front of them and pitch Astoria into a vat of shame.
"My Aunt has a very creative way of expressing her feelings," Astoria informed him with a half smirk, slitting open the envelope with her butter knife.
Crabbe grunted as though only just remembering where he was and sat down next to Daphne, where he proceeded to stack six eggs and half a loaf of bread onto his plate hungrily. Goyle hurriedly followed suit. Draco continued to watch Astoria read her letter passively, taking an apple out of the fruit bowl. He polished it on his robe and held it up to the light for inspection.
"Congratulatory letters for the Greengrass's new little Gryffindor hero?" Draco guessed lazily. "My father sent his last night, but then there was never any question about what house I would be in."
"That's not a congratulations," said Daphne quietly, looking as though, even now that the letter had already been opened, she was still not entirely positive it would not combust.
Astoria unfolded the letter briskly and began to read out-loud in her aunt's high, cold voice, determined to be amused instead of embarrassed.
"Astoria" she began dramatically,holding the letter out in front of her so that she might read it easily. "Where to begin? I cannot express, I cannot fathom what you were thinking last evening! Must everything be a rebellion to you? Why must you be so trifling? You were born of superior blood and with a face that will one day make men weak! Yet why is it that when I think of you amounting to anything or of marrying one day, I am forced to conclude that it would be a kindness for me to first cut out your willful tongue so that you won't spoil it all for yourself by speaking!?"
Astoria looked up, grinning wickedly. It was even more wretched then she had feared and somehow this only served to make the letter funnier than it would have been if her aunt had really been worried or disappointed.
Whether because of the content of the letter or because Astoria's impression of Belladonna Lestrange was rather excellent, Daphne's mouth had dropped open in horror and Draco had stopped polishing his apple in a state of astonishment.
Astoria gave the parchment a little flourish and went on: "For you do not fool me, girl. A child with as many charms and wits as yourself does nothing without a motive. So you have shunned Slytherin? Fine. Let us be frank, there are more important things. What is so reprehensible, so unforgivable to me it the fact that I know in my heart this was no accident. You chose this! You chose it as you always choose your whims, calculating them to cause me as much displeasure as possible. You are always thinking of yourself and yet you do yourself no favors! Do not think I shall take this on the cheek, you wicked, wicked girl. I shall not rest for weeks thinking of it! Yours sincerely," Astoria finished, leaving off her aunt's somewhat recognizable name as she did so as a precaution against questioning.
Daphne continued to gape so Astoria refolded the letter and packed it back into its murderous red envelope.
"Well, this whole Gryffindor thing just keeps looking up, doesn't it?" Astoria needled sarcastically. "Merlin, what do you think she would do if I married a Muggle and moved to Ecuador? Sort of puts things in perspective."
"Who wrote that?" demanded Draco nosily, clearly having recovered from so much verbal vitriol easily enough.
"My aunt," said Astoria briskly, "who is probably pacing her drawing room right now, drinking before noon and throwing all of my pictures into the fire."
"Your mother's sister, then?" Draco pried, guessing correctly that no Greengrass had penned such a deliberate and harrowing note. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What was your mothers name?"
"I don't have one," said Astoria evasively. "I'm like Athena that way."
"Miss Greengrass," said a cold, silken voice, "If you are quite finished, might I suggest that you move back to your own assigned seating so that your head of house may have the pleasure of handing you your schedule in person without first having to hunt you down?"
The speaker was a tall man in his middle thirties with a curtain of dark, lank hair. He was staring down his crooked nose at her with such a mirthless, black intolerance that Astoria stood up immediately and planted a kiss on top of her sisters head.
"I'll see you at lunch," Astoria muttered.
"You can sit down now, Mr. Malfoy," the teacher went on somewhat sardonically, producing a stack of parchment from the folds of his long, dark robes, "surely you don't wish to eat your entire breakfast standing up?"
0o0
A brisk wind stirred the long grass at the edge of the lawn and the burnt copper and orange leaves on the limbs above Astoria's head danced like liquid metal. Astoria extended her legs past the shade of the branches overhead and laughed. "So you're telling me that her dad was a priest?"
George Weasley, who was leaning against the trunk of the tree and paying no mind to the chill, looked up as he continued to roll a suspicious looking plant that Astoria had never seen before into a smoking paper. "Yup. Mcgonagall's dad was a Presbyterian priest and a muggle, if Nearly Headless Nick knows what he's talking about." George paused to lick the poorly rendered cigarette in his hands closed. "Her mum tricked the priest. Didn't come out the closet as a witch until the professor got her letter. Must have been a bit of a highland surprise."
Astoria shook her head back and forth, positively fascinated. "And the ghosts will just tell you these things?"
"Not until you get to know them," said Fred, who was sprawled in the grass beside her, leveling Astoria with a stern finger. "You don't want to go insulting the Hogwarts ghosts."
"Thing is," George carried on, producing a lighter, "if you do manage to make friends with them, most of them have been roaming the halls for hundreds of years and they've actually got a lot to say."
Astoria thought about this as she watched flickers of the bright blue sky peep through the golden fall foliage. She had been at Hogwarts for less than a month and although at first she had been a little leery of the twins, they had proven themselves to be more than just a laugh but a veritable font of information as well. It seemed at least, that they knew every shortcut in and out of the school: knew the personal history of the teachers and what to say in order to cajole almost every professor without provoking outright aggression. They were more than just mischief makers, they were wise sages with the spirits of entrepreneurs.
"What is that, anyway?" Astoria asked, motioning toward the dodgy looking cigarette.
"No idea," said Fred with an honest chuckle. "Lee sold it to us. Said it was a real mood enhancer."
"Does it get you high?" Astoria wondered out loud, hoping her surprise didn't come across as disapproving or prudish.
"What? You mean if I smoke this, will I see leprechauns dancing in the shrubs?" asked Fred with a devilish smirk. "Dunno. Wanna find out with us?"
Astoria laughed, big and loud, turning her giggling face into the cold grass as she imagined herself wandering the castle with Fred and George, stoned. Her first month at school and already risking expulsion. There was enough that was new and surprising about Hogwarts and its grounds without substance abuse.
"Can't," she admitted at last, still smiling at the radiant image of herself chasing invisible imps across the lawn, thinking that as far as first years went, such an event would seal her reputation as nearly legendary overnight. "We have our first broomstick practice today. I'm nervous enough as it is. I had a bad go around on one when I was a kid."
"Just as well," said George, giving his laughing bother's leg a playful shove. "Lee says all it does is make you feel relaxed. He probably just imagined the whole thing. I bet this stuff doesn't even do anything— he said he got it off of his muggle cousin."
"Mhmm," said Astoria, laughing as she gathered up her bag. Just up the wide sloping lawn from the spot where she was sitting beneath the trees, Astoria could see her class beginning to gather for their flying lesson. "Well, it looks like my class is about to start. At least this way you two will be feeling nice and calm when you watch me plummet to my death."
"You won't die," said Fred seriously. "The castle is right there, they'll get you to the hospital wing in time."
"How reassuring!" Astoria yelled as she began to climb the grassy slope.
In truth, Astoria was far from feeling so merry. Astoria hadn't lied; an early drop off of a broomstick with some older family friends when she had been about eight had cured her of the desire to ever ride on a broomstick again. She didn't like heights or unnecessary lack of control and quidditch seemed like both to her. At least she would be with Daphne, Astoria reflected as she neared the group of students, who were all wearing a mixture of scarves, knotted tightly against the wind. Gryffindor had their flying lessons with the Slytherins.
Astoria found Daphne hanging back a few feet from Pansy's reliable trio of Slytherin unpleasantness.
"Hey," Astoria breathed in her sisters ear, grinning despite her mounting fear. "Brilliant day to die, isn't it?" she muttered, giving the brooms laying at their feet a dark look.
Daphne giggled.
"You too, then?" said a sulky voice. Astoria turned and found the pallid, somewhat sallow face of Theodore Nott looking back at her. He was wearing the same expression of fear Astoria assumed was all over her own face, although probably in a less feminine way.
In the healthy fall sun, Theo looked more ungainly and even less fit for exercise than ever. There was something almost sarcastic about his face however, which served to make him look intelligent even if it didn't make him seem capable of much physical prowess. Astoria was reminded faintly of some of her father's more intellectual friends.
"I hate flying," Astoria confessed.
"I don't know why it's even mandatory," Theo griped, clearly thankful for a responsive audience to his displeasure. "It's not like it's something any fully trained wizard has to be able to do, after all. Adults can Apparate. Flying should just be for fun."
Astoria shrugged and privately wondered if Theodore had ever had any fun outside of a book.
"—of course, I've been flying for ages, you know," came the bored, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. "I asked Professor Snape if I even had to bother with the lesson but he seemed to think I would make a good example."
Theodore scoffed openly and Astoria shot him a conspiratorial grin. At first Theodore blinked in surprise but then he returned the smirk awkwardly.
"Do you know, half of the first years have probably never even touched a broomstick, much less owned one? My God, my father bought me my first one when I was nine."
Astoria resisted the urge to laugh at the outright pompousness of it all and instead turned back to Theodore. "Have you ever flown before?"
Theo wrinkled his nose, "Once or twice."
"Ever fallen off of one?" Astoria asked mischievously.
"Yes," said Theo, this time with more firmness and a shadow of a grin.
"Why doesn't that surprise me, Nott? asked Draco loudly, catching on to their conversation and forcing himself into it gracelessly. "I bet if you managed to run a mile without stopping, your poor mother would die of shock."
Theodore's face darkened but his voice did not change its monosyllabic pitch. "Maybe. Except my mother is already dead, so I guess we will never know."
Something about the way Draco raised his eyebrows carelessly made Astoria think that he had probably already known this and had brought up Nott's mother just to point out the fact that he didn't have one.
"Theo used to play with Montague and I in the summer," Draco went on, turning to Astoria, unchecked by the look on Theodore's face. "You spent nearly as much time off your broom as you did on it, didn't you Nott?"
"Yeah, I guess," said Theodore coolly, "but I didn't spend half of every match arguing that the wind blew the quaffle out of my hand either."
Draco blushed and his eyes narrowed slightly, but before he could retort Madame Hooch arrived and blew a sharp blast from her whistle.
"What are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch bellowed, her eyes flashing in a birdlike fashion over the assembled group. "Everyone stand by a broomstick, hurry up."
They hastened forward into a line. Astoria followed Theodore. Malfoy, who had been insulted and seemed unwilling to give up the opportunity to watch Theo make a fool of himself, managed to gain on spot on Astoria's other side, cutting Daphne loose toward Pansy's gang of fools.
"Stick your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch called out, "and say 'Up!'"
"Up!" said Malfoy. The broom at his feet snapped sharply into his hands. He leaned against it, smiling at Theodore cruelly, waiting.
"Up!" said Theodore, having no choice but the follow the rules. The broom at his feet rolled limply, levitated for a second, and fell back to the ground.
Draco's smile deepened into an unkind smirk.
"Up!" said Theo again, this time with more feeling. The broom bounced twice and gave up. Scowling, Theodore picked it up off the sloping lawn and held it defiantly.
"Who needs rules, anyway?" Astoria scoffed sarcastically. Both Draco and Theo attempted to catch her grin and then realized at nearly the same moment that they did not know precisely who she was making fun of.
Astoria held her hand out. "Up!" A breeze stirred the tail bristles but the rest of the broom remained immobile on the grass. Astoria shrugged.
"Hold your hand out further," said Draco bossily.
"Why bother?" said Astoria honestly. "I hate flying. I'll never join the team anyway."
This pronouncement seemed to make Theodore look rather smug.
"You hate flying?" sneered Draco incredulously. "Well, I suppose you are a girl," he said slowly, attempting to make sense of this in the most reasonable way possible.
"More grit now, Miss. Greengrass!" said Madam Hooch to Daphne as she passed down the line of students. "It has to be a command! You must mean it. Right hand over the left Malfoy, there's a fellow."
Malfoy sneered. "I've always flown this way."
"Then you have always flown wrong, boy. Right hand over left, now."
Across the lawn, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were celebrating Madam Hooch's comment with evident delight. Draco seemed to have noticed this too, but even from twenty feet away, Astoria could not help but notice that Harry's broom was one of the few that had behaved.
"On my whistle," commanded Madame Hooch, "kick off from the ground hard, rise a few feet and then straight back down."
"How do you make the broom go back down?" asked Astoria stupidly, staring at the broomstick with a sense of vague horror.
"Lean forward," said Draco pompously.
Astoria was just taking this in and focusing on making sure she did not tilt the wrong way when, before the blast of the whistle, poor Neville Longbottom shot off the turf like a bottle rocket.
Hooch sprung into action immediately. "Come back, boy!"
Neville continued to rise, his outline slipping slowly away until it had shrunk by half when suddenly, he lurched sideways—
WHAM!
Astoria winced and turned away, her hand over her mouth. She had just witnessed exactly the thing about flying that put the fear in her. Astoria's stomach churned at the thought of how many feet had been between Neville and the hard ground he had just slammed back into. She glanced upwards just in time to watch Neville's broom continue its ascent over the treetops of the far-off forest and almost gagged again.
Hooch jostled Neville to his feet and turned on the rest of the class with a grave threat but Astoria heard hardly a word of it. She was looking at the broomstick in her own hands. Thinking of Neville's fall, she dropped it immediately.
Draco began to laugh and while some of the other Slytherins seemed to find this funny, most of the Gryffindors responded with an uproar. Astoria just had time to begin to wonder if she ought to be standing up for Neville too— it seemed the right thing, after all— when Draco spotted something on the ground.
"Look!" he said gleefully, darting forward and snatching it up. It was a Rememberall, the foolish sort of thing that a person might get in a Diagon Alley gift shop for a friend that could never remember their appointments.
"Give it here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly, joining the ruckus. The rest of the crowd stopped speaking to watch and Astoria was silently relived. She had nearly lost track of what was happening the moment she heard Neville's wrist snap.
"Those two are about to lose us both about a hundred house points," Theodore muttered, clearly annoyed.
This proved likely when, next moment, Malfoy had uttered a threat and pushed off the ground on his broomstick. Much to Astoria's quiet chagrin, it appeared he hadn't been lying—he could fly well, and the difference between his and Neville's take-offs was extreme.
"Told you," Theo sneered, looking over his shoulder to check for any apparent teachers out and about on the grounds who might be observing. "Uppity little show off."
There was a second commotion as Hermione Granger stepped back in order to give Harry Potter room as he too soared up on his practice broom to join Malfoy thirty feet above in the air.
"Well, who needs to win the house cup when you can win a contest instead?" Theo continued sarcastically, not in the least bothered that he seemed to be talking to no one but himself.
Draco and Harry were saying something to each other in the air but from where Astoria was standing, the nature of their conversation was exceedingly hard to make out. Suddenly, Harry charged at Draco, who dodged. Then, what was more miraculous, Harry managed to correct himself. Some of the Gryffindors began to applaud.
Draco was clearly unnerved. He said something that sounded a bit like, "Catch it then, if you can!"
Suddenly the Remeberall was nothing but a shinning arc shooting through the air. Both boys dipped. Malfoy landed firmly on the ground next to Crabbe, who seemed to have no idea what was happening. Crabbe grunted, very unsure of himself.
Harry dove. Astoria watched with mounting fascination despite herself. At the last possible second, Harry pulled up a foot from the ground with the tiny glass ball safely in his fist. He tumbled onto the lawn and Astoria was half tempted to applaud, herself.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Professor McGonagall was stomping across the lawn and she appeared to be in rare form. Even from a distance she appeared winded from running toward them, and a lock of her hair had sprung loose from its tightly wound prison to trail behind her. Most frightening were her eyes, which were blazing with a light that made even Astoria, who was blameless, freeze.
Parvati and Ron stepped forward, trying to calm the Professor down but there was nothing to be said that could possibly sooth her. McGonagall yanked Harry forward by his ear and they began to walk off together toward the castle; her stride long and purposeful, his awkward and hurried.
Malfoy looked triumphant. Crabbe and Goyle, who only just now seemed to have realized that there had been a victory, began to snicker and congratulate themselves.
"Well, I suppose that's the last we'll see of the great Harry Potter," Draco leered, looking more pleased with himself then should have been legal.
"Shut up, Malfoy," said Ron, nearly lunging toward him.
Draco took a sharp step back and Crabbe and Goyle immediately moved in beside him. "Good riddance," Malfoy continued audaciously, "it's back to the muggles where he belongs!"
0o0
"I swear, Draco makes a bunch of sound just to confirm to the rest of the world exactly what he is— or what he wants to be, at any rate," Theodore griped bitterly. "You would think at some point his father might have pointed out that competence and skill are more impressive when you're not distracting everyone with a whole lot of endless bragging!"
Astoria was sitting in the library with Daphne and Theodore, attempting to tackle her Transfiguration homework. The theatrics of the that morning's flying lesson seemed to be a much more interesting topic for Theodore, however. Daphne, who was prone to gossip when she was bored, seemed to be enjoying herself immensely so Astoria could not bring herself to ask Theodore to stop.
"He's possessive, jealous and easily offended. He's everything that makes a bully without any of the actual swagger," Theo went on.
Daphne's eyes were wide. Malfoy had already cast himself as an intimidating figure in her first few weeks at Hogwarts and Astoria could tell that hearing him be so easily belittled was more shocking to her than Neville Longbottom's fall could ever be.
"Why do you hang around with him, then?" Astoria asked, distracted from her reading and trying her best not to be annoyed for Daphne's sake.
"I don't really, do I?" said Theo defensively. "Well, I mean, I can't help but know him—not with our families they way they are. Sometimes you can't escape acquaintances. But you know what they say, don't you?" Theo clicked his tongue and his voice rose slightly in pomposity: "A bore is someone who deprives you of solitude without providing you with company."
"Good God!" Astoria gasped, smirking happily. "Did you crib that directly from Oscar Wilde?"
Theo snorted but went back to his studies looking a little rosier in the cheeks. "At least I've read Oscar Wilde," he muttered darkly into the pages of his text.
Astoria laughed. Theo struck her as antisocial and perhaps unused to the company of others, but the fact that he had chosen her as a type of intellectual companion pleased her greatly and she felt that he was truly genuine in his interest. Already, she was beginning to feel the signs of comfort that only existed around actual friends.
Daphne seemed a little less sure. Theo was perhaps a shade too bitter, a deal too ironic to really match her tastes but she seemed to trust Astoria's judgement on the matter well enough to remain sitting with them both.
"Well, I don't care what you say," Daphne admonished. "I wouldn't go out of my way to pick a fight with Draco."
"That's because you are a sheep," said Theo with such unrestrained honesty that Astoria couldn't even work up the energy it took to be offended for her sister.
Daphne watched them both laugh and shut her book rather primly. "Oh, very mature."
"Oh, Daph, he doesn't mean anything by it," said Astoria.
After a moment, Daphne re-opened her book but by the time she had finished her essay, she was more than ready to return to the common room for bed. Astoria watched her go, sad to see her leave but still enjoying Theodore's company nonetheless.
"The library must be closing soon," said Theo at last, looking out the window that framed the small nook where their table was situated against a back wall.
As if on cue, the lights behind the nearest bookshelf were snuffed out by an irate Madame Pince.
"Closing!" Pince barked at a couple of third years.
Astoria and Theodore waited, listening to the third years as they moved out of sight and left the library. Then, with excited glances at each other, they both watched as Madame Pince's lantern, which was illuminated through the bookshelf, too began to bob away.
"No way," hissed Astoria at last, letting out an excited breath. Because of the remoteness of their nearly hidden location and the relative dimness of their one candle, Madam Pince had somehow overlooked them. "Do you think we should go?"
Theo looked more excited then Astoria had ever seen him before. Excitement was an odd look on his face and it seemed to lend Theo the sort of manic glow reminiscent of the role of 'mad scientist'.
"Ever wondered what kind of books are in the restricted section?" Theodore asked, his interest plainly marked across his narrow, unlovely face.
Astoria gasped as a whole world of possibilities began to illuminate itself before them which each diminished torch light.
They waited until they heard the library door swing closed with a final bang before moving, but even then they tip-toed, fearing treachery around every shelf.
"I can't believe I didn't think of this!" Astoria whispered. "You can't get within ten feet of the restricted section without having Pince on you like a guard-dog during the day!"
"Have you ever noticed that she actually eats lunch at her desk?" Theo asked, burning with the secret shared admiration of their task. "I think she does it just so she can keep an eye on the off-limits books."
"Yes!" said Astoria, agreeing instantly. "The second the clock hits eleven, she gets up and literally starts taking everything off her desk—"
"—every book, every scroll!" Theodore egged her on excitedly.
"Then, she puts down that weird table cloth!" Astoria added.
"The kind old nannies put trinkets on in a parlor!"
"Yes!" Astoria slapped her leg happily and then regretted her choice instantly because directly in front of them, like an alluring but frightening mirage, was the restricted section.
"Where do we start?" Theodore wondered, clearly as awed by the relative size and easy access to so many ill-begotten secrets as Astoria was.
They both ducked past the rope that marked the edge of the section's boundary, each of them aware that they had passed the final limit of 'accidental' as they did so. There would be be no excuses if they were caught now. They would simply be punished, no doubt severely.
Above them were dozens upon dozens of books. Some of these were seemingly innocent enough, others were clearly marred, ripped, or in the case of one particularly alarming tome; bloodstained.
Theo reached out to brush the spine of an unnamed book. To both of their horror, at his touch the book began to wriggle and thrash out of his reach. Recovering, Astoria grinned sheepishly, resolved to keep her hands very firmly at her sides.
"Hey, look at this," said Theo moments later, crouching down low to the ground. He was no longer in the restricted section but near the shelves that housed old newspapers and magazine clippings. Whatever it was that he had found seemed to have piqued his interest, however.
"What?" asked Astoria, shrugging her way back past the rope, secretly grateful to be standing in the less illegal part of the library once more.
"It's McGonagall."
Astoria leaned closer so that she could see what Theo was looking at more closely. There, sure enough, was a young witch who did bear a striking resemblance to the Gryffindor head of house, only in the aging black and white photo, Minerva was in the flush of her youth and grinning up at the camera from under the arms of her quidditch teammates. The red Gryffindor robes were unmistakeable.
"She played quidditch?" Astoria almost gasped, trying to reconcile the stern woman she knew with this youthful image.
"She was good at quidditch," said Theo, looking vaguely revolted. "Look, she's captain! And this print here says that her team had just won the cup three years running."
"It can't be McGonagall. She must have had a sister," Astoria insisted, scrutinizing the photograph. The idea of her prim transfiguration teacher even riding a broom, much less riding one masterfully, was too much for her imagination.
"It doesn't say," said Theodore squinting, "but come on, there is no way that this isn't her."
"I'll bet actual money," said Astoria firmly.
"You're on," Theo declared, folding up the precious newsprint and pocketing it for further proof. "Five galleons?"
"Make it ten," Astoria scoffed. "Come on, we're solving this mystery right now."
"What do you mean?" asked Theodore, puzzled.
"Trophy room," Astoria responded plaintively, but the look on Theodore's face was so doubtful that she pressed harder. "We're already out of bed way after hours and you just fully defaced library property," Astoria reminded him. "Come on, stay bad."
"Defacing library property when no one can see is 'Slytherin bad' but sneaking out to the trophy room past eleven o'clock for no real reason is just Gryffindor stupid. I'm starting to understand why you were sorted so unfortunately," hissed Theodore.
Astoria rolled her eyes. "You put ten whole galleons on our bet and the trophy room is only two floors above us."
"It's only ten galleons," Theodore reminded her, but he soon gave up and followed Astoria at a stealthy trot out into the corridor. "Let's just get in and out," said Theo. "I mean it. We look at the quidditch plate and then we move."
"Fine," Astoria agreed. "It's pretty evenly between both of our common rooms, so neither of us is more at risk than the other."
Theodore seemed to like the idea of this, as though logical reasoning was able to calm him. "Your money is about to be mine, Greengrass."
The trophy room was located in between a section of two hallways. When they reached the divide they split up, each searching for the correct wall, as neither of them had ever bothered to look for the sports statistics boards before.
"Found it," Theo whispered at last, sounding victorious, "come here and read this."
There was a clatter at the opposite end of the room and then a voice that most certainly was not Theodore's cut into the moon-bright dimness, "He's late, maybe he's chickened out."
Astoria jumped so hard that a tingling shot down into her fingertips. Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were standing next to a shelf of gleaming cups. Bringing up the rear of their party was an irate looking Hermione Granger, followed by a cowering Neville Longbottom. For a moment, all was confusion.
"Oh," remarked Ron, taking in the sight of Theodore's frozen figure perplexedly before demanding almost violently, "has he swapped you for Crabbe?
Ron's eyes switched to Astoria and widened still further. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking at the trophies to settle a bet," said Astoria, feeling more than a little confused. "What are you doing here?"
"Midnight duel," said Ron, summoning as much bravado as he could muster. "We thought you were Malfoy."
"You thought you were meeting Malfoy here for a midnight duel?" asked Theodore sharply, sounding as alarmed as he did skeptical. "Astoria, we have to get out of here right now."
Even Ron did not think his coolness had stretched so far as to drive Theodore and Astoria away in terror. "Wait, why do you have to get out of here?"
"Because this is obviously a trap," explained Theodore, his tone more than a little patronizing, "and you've clearly fallen for it."
The look on Ron's face as he considered this moved from one of brutish confidence to one of sheer terror as another voice, one not belonging to any of them or indeed, to Draco Malfoy, filled the room.
"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."
It was Filch, crooning to Mrs. Norris. They all bounced into each other mutely as Harry waved madly for them to follow him. Neville had just managed to get past the doorway when Filch entered the trophy room.
"They're in here somewhere..."
Astoria crept down a long gallery filled with gruesome looking suits of armor, following Harry who was moving the fastest. Theodore shot Astoria a look that could have curdled milk as they edged as fast as they dared, clearly blaming her for their dilemma.
Then, Neville, as though in imitation of his earlier performance on a broomstick, let out a squeak and tried to make a dash for it. He tripped, taking Ron down with him as he went and together they smashed headlong into a suit of armor.
Theodore swore loudly and suddenly they were no longer inching but running, pell-mell, Gryffindors and the Slytherin together down the passage. They crashed through doors and thundered down staircases. There was nowhere to go but forward or else Astoria was certain that Theo would have peeled away into the darkness and left them to their fate. Finally, just ahead, was a tapestry containing a secret passageway.
Ron flew through it first and the rest of the group lodged themselves in behind him like matches stacked in a matchbox.
"I think we've lost him," Harry panted.
Hermione was all indigence and scorn. "I told you!" she yelled between breaths. "Malfoy tricked you!"
"Obviously!" Theodore added emphatically, interjecting himself into the mix as though he belonged there.
"Malfoy must have tipped him off!" Hermione continued, heedless as to where her support came from.
"I cannot believe you actually thought he would show up in the first place," Theo murmured wondrously. Now that they were safe, he seemed to find the shenanigans he was witnessing as closer to amusing then dangerous. "You must be the stupidest bunch of-"
"Oh, shut up," Ron snapped. "Enough about your Slytherin crony! We have to get back to the tower."
There was a squeal of delight behind Astoria that made every single one of them jolt.
"Ickle firsties!" cackled Peeves. The smile of fresh confidence slid off of Theodore's face for a second time.
"Shut up Peeves!" Harry begged.
"I'll tell the Bloody Barron!" Theo threatened impotently.
"Don't let us get caught Peeves!" begged Hermione.
"Get out of the way!" Ron snapped, taking a giant swipe at the poltergeist.
Astoria groaned.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves roared, making direct eye contact with Ron, "STUDENTS DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
They ran until they slammed into a bolted door at the end of the next hallway. Astoria was just beginning to make peace with the fact that her race had been run when Hermione pushed them all out of the way and charmed the locked door open.
They all piled in and Astoria waited with her ear pressed against the planks of wood that separated her from Filch. Behind her, Neville began to whimper. What would Belladonna do if she was expelled, Astoria wondered?
Harry looked at Astoria and saw the terror on her face because he instantly took pity on her. "He thinks the door is locked, " Harry whispered reassuringly. "He won't come through."
Neville whimpered again.
Theodore half screamed, his voice as shrill as a little girl's, breaking the silence and slamming into Astoria and Harry's backs at the same time with the force of someone ten times larger than he really was.
"Wha—" said Ron thickly, but his voice died before he could finish whatever he was going to say.
Astoria turned slowly and found herself looking into the eyes of a monstrous dog. A dog with three heads. A dog with a set of teeth bigger than the length of her body. A dog that was drooling great, slimy stalactites of saliva thicker then Neville's arm but indeed, not thicker than the teeth from behind which they dripped.
They were in the forbidden corridor on the third floor, of course, thought Astoria numbly. The reason the door had been locked was now quite obvious, although why there had been so few enchantments upon it that a first year could easily penetrate past its locked barricade without trying overly hard was beyond her.
It was the forbidden corridor and they were all going to die wretched deaths. The look on Theodore Nott's face seemed to confirm this fact even as it crossed through her own mind. The dogs three noses all sniffed at the air hungrily in unison.
0o0
This chapter was a bit of a building chapter but it starts to show off Astoria's friendship with Theodore, which is a necessary stepping stone. I promise some more original plot in the next chapter. As always, I love to hear your thoughts (is everyone realistically in character, for instance?) so drop me a review and tell me what you think!