Chapter Six
Finals
0o0
"How was detention?"
It was late afternoon the next day. Astoria and Theodore had made plans to meet on the lawn after class if the weather held. Sure enough, a brilliant sun was still warming the back of Astoria's neck when Theodore cast himself down into the grass beside her.
Astoria looked out across the lake that they were facing. A couple of third years were throwing rocks in an attempt to agitate the Giant Squid into surfacing.
"Malfoy didn't tell you?" she asked, massaging her shoulders, still sore from falling the night before.
Astoria had slept badly, catching perhaps an hour of actual rest before Hermione's heavy metal alarm clock had startedd to ring that morning.
"No," said Theo sounding faintly intrigued. "He got back late covered in mud and went straight to bed. I figured you and the rest of the Gryffindors must have pushed him off rock or something."
Theo crossed his long legs at the ankle and Astoria thought about how much this gesture made him look like a crumpled spider.
"They sent us into the forbidden forest," said Astoria. "On a haunted quest to find a dead unicorn. I had to brush leaves out of my hair this morning."
Theodore raised an eyebrow. With the exception of his angular structure, many of Theodore's movements were oddly feminine. This expression was no exception; from the way Theodore softly touched the pages of books to the way he caressed his own fingertips when he was thinking, he was surprisingly elegant.
"That is frankly ludicrous," said Theo, refining his opinion past the point of a look. "You're all a bunch of first years. You should write to your aunt and tell her they had you chasing dead creatures in the middle of the night."
"What are the properties of unicorn blood?" asked Astoria, overlooking this suggestion about writing to her aunt, unable to banish the image of the hooded figure from appearing her eyes.
"Well," squinted Theodore, slightly derailed, "the horn, tail hairs and blood all have magical properties, I think."
"Yes, but the blood specifically," Astoria urged.
"It's supposed to be cursed, isn't it?" said Theo, his voice taking on the intellectual air of a scholar. "Unicorn blood can keep a person alive even if a person is seconds away from death. But because unicorns themselves are so pure—they say it's an evil thing to kill a unicorn—the blood will only grant its drinker a cursed life."
Astoria's skin crawled. She suddenly began to wish that they were not sitting within sight of the forest, no matter how far away it was. She still wanted to crawl away from those cursed, shadowy trees.
"I saw something suck blood out of a dead unicorn's wound last night," admitted Astoria quietly.
"Astoria," began Theodore gravely, looking as though she had hit him over the head with a shovel. "It was late. It must have been dark... I mean, are you sure you didn't just get a little worked up?"
"I didn't imagine it," said Astoria softly, pointedly looking toward the lake instead of the tree line. "Draco saw it too. So did Harry."
Theo's entire face was scrunched and Astoria could tell he was already going through his inner catalog of knowledge on the subject of unicorns, curses and the animals that were capable of catching them.
"Do you think," started Astoria, a little afraid of voicing the idea out loud, "that it's possible one of the teachers could be, I dunno, sick or something? Desperate or out of other options?"
Theo seemed to consider this but his face, if anything, grew even darker.
"In theory, I suppose that is possible," said Theodore slowly, "but I don't think you're comprehending just how hard it is to catch a unicorn."
"What do you mean?" asked Astoria who had long suspected the Hogwarts teachers were a bit more competent then they sometimes looked.
"Well," said Theodore, "you're not just talking about wand makers who want to collect hairs at this point. You're talking about hunting a unicorn down to kill it. I doubt even Olivander would be able to fully snare a unicorn. Only a really powerful and probably dark wizard could manage it…"
Astoria, who had suspected as much, still hate hearing this.
In a vaguely disconnected way, her thought directed themselves back to the last time she had thought something at Hogwarts might kill her. She thought about the giant three headed dog. For the first time, she found herself wondering whether it might have a purpose. It seemed to her that something awfully strange was going on at Hogwarts only she did not have enough of the pieces in her hands to fill in the puzzle.
0o0
On the very nicest day of the year, exams began.
Theodore grew sulky and ill tempered. It was the first time he had been asked to prove how much he knew in a formal setting and he seemed to be taking the idea of being testing oddly personally. He picked up the habit of making notes on the backs of things and then loosing them. For some reason, whenever he did this, he had a weird tendency to blame Daphne for his notes' disappearance. Daphne was as baffled by these accusations as she was innocent and she soon ceased studying with Astoria and Theodore entirely.
"Quiz me on the Goblin uprisings!" Theo snapped on the evening before the his last exams.
"Ok," grumbled Astoria irritably.
Astoria herself was feeling reasonably good about her own History of Magic exam. The book Theodore's dad had given her was chock full of goblin history and laws. Theodore, however, seemed less prepared. He had his Herbology exam the next morning as well and it was clear that he was anxious for the whole week to be over.
Astoria started to read out loud to Theodore but they were both interrupted when a gaggle of Slytherin girls entered the library laughing so loudly that Theo actually left an indent in the surface of their table by slamming down his ink well.
"Some of us are studying!" said Theodore furiously, refusing to even look over his shoulder at the girls.
The girls all blinked in shock and then a few of them broke out laughing again, this time even more scornfully.
"Look! Is that Astoria?" whispered one of the girls, pointing at their table. "She's even sitting with a Slytherin! Maybe we should tell her?"
Astoria and Theo exchanged warning glances with one another. Astoria's look warned Theodore not to yell. Theodore's look warned Astoria that if she asked these girls what they were talking about, he certainly would scream.
"What are you talking about?" asked Astoria at last, tired of being leered at. Theodore hissed.
"Shh, Flora!" said one of the girls but the whole pack was obviously so moved by mirth that it was a moment before any of them were able to speak properly again.
"Only that Miles told me last night that he thinks you're 'perfectly gorgeous'!" said the girl named Flora who had been shh-ed.
"Miles who?" asked Astoria, nonplussed. To Astoria's great surprise, Theodore was smirking over the inkwell that he had nearly just shattered.
"Miles Bletchley!" said another girl dully, perhaps thinking that this should have been obvious. "He's on the Slytherin quidditch team."
Astoria tried to remember which of the Slytherin team players Miles Bletchley was. She had a funny feeling he had gambled on Hufflepuff during the last quidditch match but, with the exception of Marcus Flint, Astoria had a hard time distinguishing the players from each other.
"He's above us," said Flora, "so he's a second year, which makes him older."
"He's going to be sooo mad at you Flora!" another of the girls whispered loudly. "He made you promise not to say!"
The girls continued tittering until they eventually shoved back through the doors again, yelping and stepping all over one another.
Theodore chuckled, clearly pleased.
"What's so funny?" asked Astoria, annoyed by the smarmy look on Theodore's face.
"Nothing," said Theodore, laughing irresistibly and then wiping his face with his hand. "Don't go out with Miles. He got points taken away a few months ago for trying to ping coins down a prefect's shirt. Oh, and I once saw him try to spell the word 'marshmallow' with an 'E'."
Astoria snorted.
0o0
Noontime the next day marked the end of Astoria's exams. It was a wonderfully sunny day. After turning in her essay and her answer sheet to Professor Binns, she wandered outside.
Fred, George and Lee were tickling the tentacles of the giant squid near the boathouse so Astoria picked her way across the rocky beach toward them.
"Alright, Astoria?" called Lee, paying for his lapse in concentration when a giant spray of water soaked his robes.
"Just finished my exams!" Astoria beamed, walking out onto the dock so that she could sit on the wooden floor near Fred.
"You too?" said George, brandishing a giant stick that he seemed to be using as an extended tickling device. "We just finished up, as well."
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Fred, looking at the stick in his brothers hands. "Never had an easier one, either."
George pulled the tickling stick back and then thrust forward. He seemed to have been aiming for one of the suction cups on the squid's tentacles but at the last moment, the squid rose up out of the water and the stick struck the squid where its face must be.
There was a sonar-like blast; they were all doused with water and knocked clean off the dock.
Astoria screamed as cold lake water flooded her nose and rushed into her eyes. She struggled to regain footing on the slimy lake bottom, thrusting upward, anxious for air; she broke the surface again with a splutter. A chorus of laughter and jeers responded from the direction of the lawn.
The Slytherin first years were just getting out of their Herbology final and the greenhouses had started to empty at the same moment Astoria and the twins had been pushed off of the dock.
Several feet in front of Astoria, George was struggling ashore. His soaking wet pants were clinging to his skinny legs like weights and his hair was sticking up at such an irregular angle that even Astoria giggled. The water was bracingly cold but now that the shock had passed, it was hard not to find the situation rather funny. She splashed at Lee, grinning.
Lee spluttered and shoved water back at her. Fred, seeing this, decided to outdo Lee and before Astoria even knew what was happening, Fred had lifted her up and lobbed her back out into the deep. Astoria screamed, trying to find purchase but it was too late. The water seemed even colder as she plunged back into it.
The Slytherins were still laughing, only now Astoria had a horrible feeling that they were laughing at the sounds of her screams. She splashed her way back out until she was standing knee-deep an kept dragging forward until she reached the grass. Every piece of clothing on her body was heavy and dripping. Astoria pulled her sweater over her head and let it drop with a splatter.
"Looking good, Weasleys!" jeered the pack of Slytherins.
Astoria glanced back at the twins and then looked away to hide her own grin. They both looked like poodles after a bath.
"Get bent!" Fred hollered unconcernedly, throwing his wallet up toward the lake bank, afraid of losing it to the squid
Astoria struggled to take off her sopping shoes, leaning against a nearby poplar tree so to avoid putting a hole in her tights.
"Need a hand," asked Theodore, who had approached the lake with Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini.
Astoria made a face but it was hard to stay angry with the warm sun beating down on her and the good clean feeling the water had left behind.
"Finished up with your tests?" Astoria shot back, wringing out her hair.
Fred, George and Lee were still ankle deep but when they noticed the invasion of Slytherin boys they began to slide and splash their way up toward Astoria. Malfoy eyed their approach beadily.
"What are you lot doing down here?" asked Fred, trying to project dignity but coming up short. His shirt was still plastered to his skin like sunscreen.
"What's this?" sneered Draco. "Are you her bodyguards now?"
Astoria said nothing but eyed Crabbe and Goyle meaningfully, hoping that perhaps Draco would realize how hypocritical this comment was.
"Yeah, maybe we are," insisted George threateningly.
"Will one of you dry me off?" asked Astoria, afraid the spat would escalate.
Lee dug around for his wand and cast a drying charm on her.
"Did you want something?" asked Astoria, studying the gaggle of boys warily. She could see no reason for them to have come down other than to poke fun and she wished to avoid the fight.
"We wanted to know if you were planning on taking bets for the quidditch final," said Blaise Zabini calmly, surprising her. "We also wanted to get a better look at Jordan over there," he added with a cool smile. "I'm not sure I've ever seen hair do that before."
Lee's wet, curly hair truly was something of a spectacle.
"We don't know if we're taking bets or not," said George in clipped, stubborn tone. "Haven't decided yet. We'll have to hold a conference and get back to you."
"Well," said Blaise wryly, turning to go, "you'll keep in touch, I'm sure,"
The Slytherins were ten feet up the hill before Astoria called out after them. "Theo! Wait up!"
George raised an eyebrow as Astoria scooped up her sweater. "If he's done with his test, then so is my sister," Astoria explained. "See you at dinner!"
Theodore had stalled to wait for her, kicking at the lawn awkwardly. Behind her, Astoria heard the twins reclaim their stick from the lake.
"Think you passed?" Astoria asked, falling into stride with Theodore. It was as though she had been purged by the murky depths; she could not remember the last time she had felt so comfortable and carefree.
Theodore shrugged but it was obvious that his mood was greatly improved from the day before. "I'll find out in a week, I suppose. I can't imagine that I actually failed anything."
"Have you seen Daphne?" Astoria asked, putting her shoes back on because they had nearly reached the castle.
"She's probably down by the quidditch pitch with the rest of them," said Theodore, sounding annoyed. "That's where Draco and Blaise are headed."
"Can you blame them? Who wants to be inside on a day like today?" laughed Astoria. "Let's go find her. At least this way I don't have to make you fetch her from the Slytherin dungeons."
Astoria could tell that Theodore did not want to go join his housemates in their merry post-exam celebrations, but she also knew that he would not make her go alone. In the end, Theodore agreed to head toward the pitch as long as they didn't stay long.
"I want to read," he said, rejecting the idea of so many people gathered in healthy sunlight.
Daphne was sprawled out on the grass beneath the goal posts with Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis and the girl named Flora who had been so keen on telling Astoria to look up Miles Bletchley. They were reading a magazine together, pointing at photos and laughing shrilly.
A few members of the quidditch team were flying overhead, tossing a quaffle back and forth. Several of the boys without brooms were lounging in the stands, talking loudly over one another.
"Astoria!" said Daphne, her eyes going wide with surprise and delight when she saw her. "Are you all done with your tests?"
Pansy and Flora both exchanged glances behind Daphne's back. Astoria watched as Pansy rolled her eyes and Flora smirked back in unspoken agreement. The message was clear; they both considered Astoria to be an unwelcome intruder.
"Yes," said Astoria, determined not to be concerned about Pansy's opinion. "I'm finished."
Theodore shifted his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably, his eyes on the ball in the air, perhaps afraid that one of the players might drop it on him on purpose.
"What are you reading?" Astoria asked, posing the question to Pansy, hoping that it would force some pleasantness into the conversation.
"Witch Weekly," returned Pansy lazily, not offering up a single detail of the magazine's contents.
"Astoria!" called a loud male voice from somewhere near the stands.
Astoria squinted across the pitch but did not recognize the person waving at her.
"Who is that?" Astoria asked Theo.
"That's Miles!" said Flora quickly. "Miles Bletchley. I was telling you about him the other day, remember?"
Flora smiled slyly and Astoria couldn't help but feel that she was making a much bigger scene then she needed to.
"You should go see what he wants, Astoria," said Pansy, her voice suddenly becoming friendly and cajoling. She smirked in Flora's direction. "It would be rude to ignore him."
Astoria was rapidly losing even the option of ignoring Miles, however. He had jumped off of the lower bleachers and was trekking across the field towards them. One of Miles's friends dropped out of the stands to follow him and Theodore sighed witheringly, as if to suggest that this unfortunate encounter was of Astoria's own doing.
"Astoria," said Miles, smirking as he drew level. Miles's friend was more recognizable up close; Astoria recognized him as a foul-mouthed third year named Warrington.
"Miles," Astoria managed politely, turning back to toward her sister.
"So I hear you took us all for a fortune during the last quidditch game," Miles pressed on conversationally, trying his hardest to single Astoria out.
"Yeah," confirmed Astoria. "Gryffindor caught up with Slytherin just in time for the final and I pretty much forced you all to pay me because of it."
"So I suppose you'll try to do it again for the last match?" asked Miles, undeterred by the ice in her tone.
"They have to have a team summit before they decide anything," declared a drawling, scathing voice.
Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise had sidled up from somewhere across the field. Pansy's interest in the conversation turned from vaguely predatory to saccharine immediately.
"Draco!" Pansy squealed exuberantly. "How did you do on your exams?"
"You spent all morning in the lake together," continued Draco accusingly, ignoring Pansy. "You'd think there would have been time to make some kind of a plan between dunks."
"Must have slipped our minds," murmured Astoria sarcastically.
"I've never been swimming in the lake before," ventured Miles, seizing this detail at once.
Draco shot Miles a look of violent, unprecedented annoyance.
"I would't recommend it," admitted Astoria, thinking of the icy cold water she had been forced to wade out of.
Miles frowned. "Why not?"
"Because it's May in Great Britain, you idiot," sneered Draco.
There was a sudden, riotous swell of noise from the stands that Miles had abandoned. One of the boys, (mostly fifth years by the look of them) had fallen in between the seats.
"Urg," snorted Pansy, disgusted. "What are they doing over there?"
"Flint's got a couple of bottles of fire-whiskey," supplied Miles at once. "His cousin mailed them to him."
"They have fire-whiskey?" asked Blaise, his interest very obviously sparked.
"Yeah, cheap stuff, I think. I doubt he'd give you any Blaise," said Miles honestly. "You're all first years."
"He might give it to you, though," said Astoria, eyeing the stands, perking slightly at this new and exciting possibility.
"Are you really going to beg for cheap fire-whiskey?" sneered Draco.
"No, let her," said Blaise cutting in. "I've never had it before. I'll try it. Go get it, Bletchley."
"We do have the rest of the afternoon off," reasoned Astoria, smirking, keen to aggravate Pansy.
"Sure," Draco relented, his eyes flicking from Astoria to Blaise. He jerked his shoulders into strained shrug. "Why not?"
"Oh, Draco, don't!" said Pansy irately. "It'll stunt your growth."
"Nonsense," said Blaise smoothly. "Go on then, Bletchley."
Miles Bletchley dithered, unsure of himself. "I don't know if he'll give it to me," he admitted at last.
"I hope he doesn't!" Pansy snapped.
"You're on the team together, aren't you Miles?" Astoria pressed, feeling that she was probably the most likely to succeed in getting Miles to cross the field. "They already look drunk. I bet they'll head up to the great hall any minute for lunch."
"Yeah," grumbled Miles bitterly, "I guess I'll try."
They watched him go. Warrington chuckled under his breath. Perhaps he was not as stupid as he looked, thought Astoria, giving Warrington a second study.
They all watched from a distance as Miles haggled. At first it seemed as though he had been destined to fail from the start. Miles waved his hands at the group of boys dismissively and began to walk away. But then, one of the other boys whistled to call him back. Flint clapped his hand on Miles's shoulder with the solemnity of a father and after a brief, intense discussion, he handed Miles a bottle.
"This is a terrible idea," said Pansy, flicking a magazine page so hard that it ripped a little near the top.
"You can come too, Pansy," offered Astoria, knowing that Pansy would refuse on principal alone.
"I'l be staying here, thanks," Pansy snapped, her mouth puckering. "I don't feel like getting a detention with Snape just to try whiskey."
"Suit yourself," jeered Blaise, unworried by Pansy's lack of approval.
Miles was pointing at their group and motioning that they should join him near a nook in the stands that was much less visible.
"Are you two coming?" asked Blaise.
"What do you say, Theo?" said Astoria, turning back toward her silent friend.
"I don't see how whiskey could possibly make this day any worse," said Theodore, who looked genuinely curious despite himself. "Let's go."
"That a boy!" said Blaise, displaying all the pomp and conviction of a true schoolboy. Warrington trailed along after them uninvited.
"Those boys are pissed!" exclaimed Miles excitedly once they were all out of view of the field and, in theory, of teachers. "They gave me a whole bottle for free!"
Miles produced the bottle of liquor; it was the dark amber color of the drinks Astoria's father ordered at restaurants. In the bright sunshine, it gleamed like a forbidden object.
"Who want's to go first?" asked Blaise, casting around for a volunteer.
Miles, who said that he had already tried fire-whiskey at one of his grandparents dinner parties, suggested that the lady should go first. No one could think of a reason to disagree so Astoria carefully took the uncorked bottle and put it to her lips.
Her first thought was that whiskey tasted nothing like butterbeer. Her second thought was fear for her throat, which felt like it was really burning. Astoria sputtered a little and squeezed her eyes shut. Theodore laughed.
"It tastes like fire," Astoria choked, passing the bottle to Malfoy who took it from her.
After a subtle but nervous glance at her face, which Astoria could already feel heat flowing into, Draco tipped the bottle to his own mouth. He swallowed and for a second it looked at though he would be fine. Then he choked and swore.
"God, what is that?" Draco hissed through his teeth, turning his narrowed eyes on Miles.
"I told you it was probably cheep," returned Miles in a patronizing voice.
Miles took his sip and managed to hold it down without pulling face, although Astoria thought that his mouthful looked a lot smaller than Malfoy's had been.
Blaise went next, equally compelled and disturbed by the slightly pained looks on the faces of those who had gone before him. He reacted much as Malfoy had, with strained gasping and a smattering of swear words. On the bottle went: to Theo and then Warrington.
They all snuck glances at each other, waiting for some indication of what would happen next. Astoria had a vague notion that being drunk meant that she was supposed to be seeing two of everything.
"I don't think it worked," said Astoria, certain that her vision was not impaired.
Malfoy sneered because that seemed to be the only thing he knew how to do with his mouth, but Astoria could not help noticing his expression seemed slightly more indulgent than it usually did. Softer somehow.
"It tasted real enough," said Zabini reasonably. "Perhaps we just need another round?"
"Yeah, lets take another one," said Theo, who was stretching his long limbs with unusual vigor.
They passed the bottle around again and this time Astoria managed to swallow the whiskey without gasping for air or having tears creep into her eyes. Theodore was the only person who choked twice. They stood together, savoring the sudden, deep warmth in their chests and listened to the sound of the boys playing quidditch out on the green.
"You know what?" said Theo, with an addictive little chuckle. "I think I do feel it."
A slow smile crept onto Astoria's face and she began to laugh as well. Soon they were all laughing foolishly for no particular reason at all. Then Blaise had a terrific idea.
"We should break into the storage shed where they keep the sports equipment," said Blaise, whose voice had lost none of its coolness with the consumption of liquor even if he did seem to be more liberal about speaking in general. "They've got all kinds of stuff in there."
Draco and Miles both thought this was a fantastic idea as well. They stashed the bottle of whiskey under the stands and they all walked around the back of the stadium until they came to the storage shed. It was locked, a fact that Miles discovered by running face first into the door in his attempt to open it. Draco in particular seemed to take immense satisfaction in watching Miles hop about angrily.
"Alohamora," said Theo, who was the first to remember his wand.
Inside was a veritable trove of forgotten sports. They took everything they could that looked as though it could be thrown, shot or caught and then retreated back to a section of seats high above the stadium. Somebody had remembered to bring the liquor, or else had gone back for it, because it appeared once more on one of the benches.
Down on the green grass below, Astoria spotted Daphne. She who was still sitting with Pansy's group of girls. Pansy kept occasionally lifting her head to spy on them in the stands. Even from a distance, Daphne looked slightly dejected. For a minute Astoria felt guilty for leaving her with a group of such catty females and she hoped that her sister was not suffering on her account.
"See, I think you throw it like this," said Warrington, who was holding a wooden object that was curved like a comma and gesturing with a flicking motion of his wrist, "and then… I dunno, maybe it goes really far."
They all looked at the wooden, 'L' shaped toy curiously. Astoria had never seen anything like it before. Warrington drew back and then snapped his hand forward to release it. The wooden toy did go a fair distance but none of them were particularly impressed until it changed course in mid-air and came ricocheting back at them.
Zabini ducked just in time to avoid being hit and the toy crashed into the back wall of the stadium behind him.
Theo and Draco both hooted at the near miss. Zabini brushed off his knees and took another knock off of the bottle of whiskey, repeating Warrington's words, "And then.. I dunno, maybe it goes really far," to a chorus of scathing laughter.
Somehow Astoria found the bottle back in her hands again, unsure who had handed it to her. She began taking smaller sips, remembering how disassociated the ancient butterbeer had made her feel. Liquor seemed to have more of a zip to it however and disconcertingly, it began to seem as though the more she drank, the more she wanted to drink.
For her new dainty sips, Malfoy and Zabini had switched to large ones, as though they had made a secret pact to make up for her moderation.
Draco found a snitch inside a box and it was now floating over their heads, darting back and forth evasively.
"Can you believe Potter managed to catch one of these twice?" drawled Draco snidely, watching the snitch from the seat next to Astoria. "Potter can barely walk straight."
Astoria would have been willing to bet her savings that if she had forced Draco to stand, he wouldn't have been able to walk straight either but she did not say so.
"Look at this!" said Miles excitedly. He had found an old bow and arrow, a remnant of a long forgotten archery club.
Malfoy snagged it out of Miles's hands and tested it unskillfully. "I think this will shoot," he confirmed, looking around for arrows.
When Draco stood up, Theodore greedily stole his vacated seat, looking slightly dizzy.
"Do you think you can shoot that snitch?" asked Blaise, extending this challenge to everybody present. Astoria's eyes flicked toward the snitch, which had flown out over the field slightly. It was a clean fifty feet away now and it was darting back and forth evasively. Not an easy mark…
"Maybe," said Draco, holding the bow out, trying to line up the sight.
"Let me," said Blaise, who had found the arrows. Blaise took one and notched it. He drew back carelessly and released. The arrow missed by the snitch by several feet and dropped out of sight. Miles booed.
"Why don't you try, Nott?" called Draco snidely, finally noticing that Theodore had taken his seat. "You're always keen to shoot things down."
This earned a laugh from Blaise.
Theodore stood up and took the bow dubiously. His shot missed its mark by more than Blaise's had and the force nearly caused him to tip all the way over.
Draco took the bow back with smirking and tried a shot himself. The arrow went high and then dove to the ground. A second later they heard a startled yell below them.
They all ducked, wide eyed with the exception of Astoria, who stuck her head out past the edge of the seats fearfully.
There was an arrow lodged in the grass. About five feet away from it, Montague was shouting himself horse and shaking his fist. Draco's sniggers quickly become hoots of derision when it became evident that they had not accidentally murdered a student.
"Here," said Astoria holding out her hand for the bow, "let me try."
"I don't think so," said Draco pulling the bow out of reach, smirking all over his pointed face. "I don't like what I hear about your aim."
"What's wrong with her aim?" asked Miles, who seemed determined to make a dirty joke if it killed him.
"She shot a teacher once," said Draco, not playing in to Miles' bid.
"You did, didn't you!" exclaimed Theodore, who seemed to have forgotten this fact.
"Once," said Astoria as Blaise roared with laughter, "during a practice."
"Did you shoot your teacher on purpose?" inquired Blaise, looking as though he very much hoped that Astoria had.
"Of course not," lied Astoria pointedly. "That would be sick."
"Still, can't have any more mistakes like that, can we?" said Draco, pulling the bow back still further, his smirk deepening.
"You're one to talk," said Astoria calmly, taking a hold of the bottom of the bow. "You just nearly shot Montague."
Draco didn't let go. Clearly he enjoyed having power over her and was not eager to relinquish it.
"Well, let's see it then," said Blaise at last, tired of watching Draco preen. "Worst case scenario, we lose the arrow."
Astoria took a firmer hold of the bow and tested the draw on the string. She had spent plenty of hours in her youth shooting archery practice and she knew that if she managed not to stumble, her shot would be better than all three of the boy's failed attempts. Astoria fitted an arrow and watched the snitch. She could feel Draco's eyes on the side of her face.
She breathed out, pulled the bow up to eye level, then breathed in at the release. The arrow sliced through the air and met the snitch with a metallic snapping sound. It severed the soft metal in half and both wings tumbled toward the ground like sparkling confetti. It was a better shot than Astoria had could have hoped for by far.
Blaise swore and stood up to peer out at the now vacated field they were shooting over, perhaps hoping to see what was left of the snitch that Astoria had just shot out of the air.
Theo let out a low whoop. "That had to have been sixty feet away!"
Astoria dipped into a bow the way the old professional witches in the league did and Miles whistled.
Malfoy blinked and said nothing until after Blaise had passed him the whiskey again. "I thought you said you shot your teacher by accident?" he reminded her sharply.
"She always was the best shot in the class," said Pansy nastily, announcing herself on the stairway. The Slytherin girls had climbed up to them an they were lingering on the stairs. "I've only seen Astoria miss her mark once," Pansy went on. "It was quite a coincidence!"
"Thats why they call it shooting practice, not shooting perfect, Pansy," returned Astoria in a slightly more challenging tone than she might have used sober.
This was a very bad joke but her audience was so loosened up by the fire-whiskey that they hooted appreciatively anyway.
"We're going to dinner," said Pansy witheringly. "You boys should come." The invitation was not extended to Astoria.
Blaise held up the whiskey bottle, which was still nearly half full, and put his feet up on the railing so that it looked like he was sitting on a lounge chair.
"I'll pass," he said with a self satisfied smirk.
This was very amusing to Draco and he too declared his intention of skipping dinner.
Theo, who was skinny and only ate once a day, was beginning to appear a little green and he volunteered to leave at once. Warrington ambled down the stairs to indicate his defection in silence.
Pansy looked as though she had bit into a lemon. She had wanted Draco, could maybe have settled for Blaise and was now stuck with Theodore. Perhaps it was the liquor or maybe it was because Pansy seemed to have claimed Daphne for her her own, but Astoria had to turn away to hide her look of satisfaction at Pansy's disappointment.
"Staying, Greengrass?" asked Malfoy, leaning against the railing near Blaise's feet.
Astoria raised her shoulders into a shrug. Anything seemed better than having to walk across the grounds with Pansy only to be ditched once she reached the great hall.
Pansy made a sound of annoyance but seemed to know better then to yell at Blaise or Draco. She settled for a mask of disapproval and took Flora's arm as they walked away.
"Aren't you going, too?" said Draco hopefully, looking at Miles with an expression of disdain.
"It's my whiskey, isn't it?" said Miles, shooting a unwanted, sidelong look at Astoria. "I'm staying."
The sun was beginning to set. The western horizon glowed golden and then orange. They watched it, hypnotized. Blaise uncorked the bottle again. A bottle of liquor had seemed like too much when there had been six of them drinking. Now that there were four, it seemed like an almost dangerous supply.
Blaise did not agree. "I wish it were easier to get your hands on, this stuff. It goes quickly."
"You can always get butterbeers from the kitchens," said Astoria, thinking of the old house-elf that Fred and George had bribed. "The stuff the elves give you is old too, so it's got more of a kick."
"You've been to the kitchens?" asked Draco, sounding faintly impressed.
"Yeah," said Astoria. "Its behind that portrait of the bowl of fruit near the Hufflepuff dorms."
"How do you get in?" asked Blaise immediately.
"You tickle the pear and it becomes a doorknob," Astoria answered, reaching out for the bottle that was coming her way and accidentally putting her hand on Malfoy's fingers at the bottleneck.
"You have to look for this old house elf, though," Astoria went on, speaking quickly to hide whatever jolt Draco's skin had just given her. "I think his name is Bumbles. Anyway, he's sort of like the butler and he'll give you whatever you want but he doesn't like giving alcohol to the students so you have to bribe him with those little figurines that come in candy boxes."
"Why?" asked Miles, who was standing behind them and looking a little left out.
"He's got a collection, or something," said Astoria.
"How do you know?" asked Blaise.
"Because I bribed him once," said Astoria.
"I thought you'd never drank before," said Miles petulantly, trying to catch her in a lie.
"I said I'd never had fire-whiskey before," said Astoria. "I've had butterbeer. I went with Fred and George back in the fall."
"You drank with the Weasleys?" drawled Draco, his voice colored by unmistakable annoyance. "Well this is certainly upward momentum for you."
Blaise laughed but Astoria gave them both a hard look.
"Say what you want about Fred and George, but they know where just about everything in the castle is and how to get it," Astoria insisted. "They know how to coax teachers and servants and they know secret passageways that will literally take you out of the school. That's more then I can say about either of you."
Draco seemed to consider this. He had never put much stock in the twins inherent utility before and they seemed to rise slightly in his esteem. "Sure that's useful, I mean, if you can stand looking at them long enough to get what you're looking for," he scoffed.
"I can't stand looking at you, Draco," said Miles, which made no sense at all but did serve as a gauge for how drunk he was. Blaise snickered.
A lone figure came walking across the field below, strolling through the dusk. It was Filch and he was dressed in his Sunday best, humming to himself and headed in the direction of Hogsmeade.
They all dropped down off of their benches out of view, not wishing to be seen by the caretaker. Astoria found herself pressed between Draco and Miles, listening hard.
"Is he gone?" Astoria whispered, not quite liking the way Miles was leaning into her.
"What's he doing?" drawled Draco scathingly.
"Maybe he's got a date in the village?" suggested Blaise with a smirk. "That dress coat!"
Astoria peered over the railing and giggled. "He's wearing fancy suspenders and a belt!" said Astoria, bouncing against Draco's shoulder, trying to stifle herself without getting any nearer to Miles.
"What's that got to do with anything?" asked Miles as the rest of them cackled.
"That's far too much support!" said Astoria in a passable imitation of her aunt.
"That sounds like something my mother would say," said Blaise in a cool, amused voice.
Miles flexed and tried to slide his arm down the bench behind Astoria's shoulders. At the same moment, Draco put his head back against the bottom of the seats, his face red from laughing and liquor. Miles was forced to yank his hand away before they made contact.
"I'm not going to lie," said Astoria, really beginning to feel the heat in her face, "I might have heard my aunt Belladonna say that about Florean Fortesque once. I was terribly fond of him when I was little and my aunt never approved."
There was so much to wonder at in this sentence that Blaise did not know where to start and Draco actually pressed a hand over his eyes he was laughing so hard.
"Belladonna Lestrange is your aunt?" said Blaise, looking at Astoria as though seeing her for the first time.
"Fond of Florean Fortseque?" hissed Malfoy, looking as though Christmas had come early.
"Well, he had an ice cream shop, didn't he?" said Astoria indulgently. "I have some memory of her trying to make a life lesson out of avoiding men with double pant support out of my fascination."
"That's sound advice, though," drawled Malfoy, "as wizards who own sweets shops are generally pedophiles."
"I've met Belladonna," said Blaise. "My mother knows her."
Both Blaise's mother and Astoria's aunt had had about a dozen husbands between them and both were currently widowed. Neither had ever been divorced.
"Similar hobbies, I suppose? " drawled Draco but he had stopped laughing and was listening with an abiding interest.
"My mother was visiting Belladonna to deliver condolence flowers actually," Blaise allowed, smiling wryly. "Of course, my mother's husband had just died as well."
Blaise took another shot of whiskey and made a face. Astoria reflected uncomfortably on just how much Blaise must have already drank to be talking so openly about familiar murder. This was the sort of thing that Astoria usually tried her hardest to conceal and having the topic discussed so casually made her feel very tense.
"Imagine that," said Astoria off-handedly.
"He drowned in the Italian lakes. We were on vacation," said Blaise. "Anyway, there we were, having tea with Belladonna when your aunt starts going on about how lucky my mother is to have our grounds, what with the lake and the distant view of the sea. So many bodies of water on our land, us Zabinis…"
Draco made a sound of delighted disbelief, so Blaise continued: "My mother excused herself because she found the topic distressful. I was still very young and naive, so I said to Belladonna, very seriously, 'My mother's husband has just drowned and you may not have meant to, but I think you've upset her.' Belladonna looked right at me. Without missing a beat, she raised an eyebrow and said in that cool, insulting voice of hers, 'Boy, I've never insulted anyone by accident in my life'."
"What?" drawled Malfoy, all gleeful astonishment.
"That's pretty," said Miles, reaching out to touch a ring Astoria was wearing on her pointer finger.
Malfoy, catching sight of this, forcefully handed Miles the bottle. "Drink this."
Miles titled dizzily and took his hand away from Astoria to reach for it.
"I think Filch is gone," said Astoria, wanting to change the topic, "maybe we should move?"
They all agreed but by the time Astoria had stood up and reached the stairs it was becoming apparent exactly what so much fire-whiskey could stealthily do while you were sitting down. She knew that she could to go anywhere near the castle.
The world had become fluid and stupid. The idea of falling down, rather than striking her as embarrassing, was almost a giddy thought. Astoria laughed for no reason at all.
"Astoria's drunk!" declared Blaise, still managing to look haughty despite his own buzzing head.
Miles reached out to help her down the steps but Astoria danced away from him, not wanting him to touch her. They all struck out across the grass toward the rocky outcroppings behind the owlery. Darkness was still at least an hour away and the crickets were starting to chirp loudly in the wilderness surrounding the woods. Astoria climbed up onto a boulder and balanced precariously. Miles, who had been growing progressively more pale, ran off toward the edge of the forest. Assuming he was off to throw up, Malfoy laughed derisively after him.
"If you two had children," said Blaise looking at Astoria and pointing after Miles, "they would have the lowest drinking tolerance in the country."
Astoria laughed and fell off her rock. Malfoy grabbed her before she could go tumbling down the hill so she rested her weight loosely against him and pointed at Zabini.
"If I had babies with you," returned Astoria, "they'd all turn out to be girls and there would be no men left alive in England."
Astoria had the notion that if Blaise had been sober, he would have been insulted. Then again, Astoria also felt rather certain that if sobriety ruled the day, Malfoy would have pushed her away into the grass long ago. Instead, however, Blaise started to chuckle and Astoria continued to sway, clinging onto Draco for support.
It had been a long time since Astoria had had a firm grasp on what she was doing, but she had a notion that she had not started out with any firm plans for being drunk in a field with Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. At some point, however, the rest of the Slytherins had trickled away and now the stars were beginning to come out, radiant white spots against the icy blue sky.
Astoria sank down into the grass, accidentally dragging Draco, (who was still propping her up) down as well. Zabini took another swig of the dwindling fire-whiskey and passed it toward Astoria. Malfoy grabbed it before Astoria could react and drank it instead, which was just as well, because Astoria probably would have ended up joining Miles in the bushes if she had any more. Speaking of Miles, why hadn't he returned?
"I don't think he's coming back," said Malfoy. He let out an unkind laugh and slouched down, turning his eyes upward.
"Too bad," said Blaise. "Astoria will miss him."
Astoria tried looking up, but the effort while sitting made her feel slightly nauseous so she leaned back as Draco had done. Malfoy shifted and Astoria lifted her head, shamelessly using him as a pillow. Zabini slipped down beside her, his knees brushing her arm. They were like a giant puddle, thought Astoria.
On a normal day, Astoria wasn't entirely sure that she really liked either boy but for the moment, she felt oddly connected to them and faintly peaceful. Astoria sighed and resisted the urge to close her eyes. Malfoy had a nice, clean, well kept smell about him; like sheets or shirts that had been recent laundered, ironed and hung up by a third party.
The steady rhythm of his breathing was pleasant. Crumpled on the lawn, Zabini no longer seemed like a walking piece of distinguished art. He was still witty and stylish, but at the moment, he struck Astoria as more human then she had ever seen him.
They were some of the last students to go to dinner. Most of the main courses had already been cleared and replaced by dessert. Astoria was so relived to see that Miles Bletchley had returned to the hall, (and was not, therefore, sleeping in the tall grass near the owlery) that she lingered at the Slytherin table longer than she meant to. Blaise and Draco had emptied the last of a server of boiled potatoes and a plate of eclairs. She nibbled a few things off of their plates intermittently before departing for bed.
On the third floor, still treacherously dizzy, she passed Hermione Granger. For a split second, all Astoria could think of was how sloppily she must be walking. Then, a clear look at Hermione caused the fear slip out of her mind. Granger was covered in a chalky white dust and she looked close to crying. She had no interest in Astoria's antics.
Astoria fell asleep the moment her head touched her pillows, too tired to inquire after Hermione Granger's strange distress.
0o0
When Astoria woke up the next morning, she was certain that she had the flu. Her head throbbed dully and her throat cried out for water. Sitting up was a mistake; the moment she tried it, a wave of dizziness hit her like a plank.
Then, floating back like distant memory, Astoria remembered that she had drank nearly a quarter of a bottle of fire-whiskey and that her body was furious with her.
Thankfully, the dormitory was blissfully quiet. She tried to lay as still as possible; sensation seemed to jangle in her limbs like a punishment. Patches of the night before called themselves to attention in flashes as she stared at the velvet top of her four poster bed.
Theo had gone to bed early. Blaise had said something about Belladonna that had made everybody laugh, but that had felt oddly boundary crossing. Miles Bletchley was the one who had stolen the whiskey for them.
Astoria squirmed a little as she dove deeper.
They had shot arrows over a field of people? She had said something about what her babies with Zabini would be like? Could that be right?
Astoria even had an odd memory of her face pressed into Draco Malfoy's shirt... but that had been later in the evening, when the world felt like an obstacle course. She could be forgiven for those transgressions, couldn't she? She had not, after all, confessed any secret loves nor had she let Miles kiss her.
Why had it seemed like a good idea to drink, anyway? Astoria pondered this fiercely. Her first experience with Butterbeer had not been much fun, and while last night had been a better time, Astoria still felt as though she had been pushed down a flight of stairs. Perhaps it was because Pansy had been annoying her with that magazine? Perhaps that was what had set Astoria off?
Astoria struggled out of bed and peered at Hermione's clock. It was nearly noon. She had slept through breakfast.
She staggered to the washroom, stripped down and let water from the shower wash her back to life. She had not brought soap with her because she had not been sure what intent was upon entering the bath. But no matter, Lavender had left hers behind! Astoria covertly used the forgotten shampoo, chuckling stupidly. It was not something she would have normally done, as Lavender frequently smelled like adolescent body spray, but Astoria's lack of energy was compelling her to new heights of laziness.
Clean and showing no visible signs of her fatigue, Astoria dressed in something that had never been near a liquor bottle or any part of Miles Bletchley and set off for the great hall.
She met Fred and George at the portrait hole and was about to wish them a good morning when their twin, grim expressions stopped her in her tracks.
"What's up?" she mumbled, a trickle of fear somehow finding purchase on her muddled chain of thoughts.
"You haven't heard?" demanded George, taking in the freshly washed and newly arisen sight of her.
"Harry went into the forbidden corridor last night," said Fred. "Turns out there was a trap door in there and he, Ron and Hermione all went down it."
Astoria blinked, remembering the dog. She tried to imagine what could have possibly been important enough to make any of them enter that room again and failed.
"There was a sort of obstacle course down there or something, because Dumbledore's had the philosopher's stone hidden in the castle all year," said George. "They worked their way through the challenges and then at the end Harry fought You Know Who for the stone."
George had been speaking in a monotone, each outrageous detail disguised by calm detachment.
"How do you know?" gasped Astoria.
"Ron says it's true and we believe him," said Fred, leaving it at that.
"What happened to Harry? Why do you look so upset?" Astoria stuttered, words tumbling out like the broken fragments of better questions.
"You Know Who was in league with Quirrell," said George. "He's dead. Harry's in the hospital wing and he still hasn't woken up."
Astoria could not think of a single thing to say. Her brain was frustratingly slow and fuzzy. She knew that she should ask about Ron, but the question she could not hold in came pouring out instead. "How was Quirrell supposed to be in league with You Know Who, if You Know Who was vanquished?"
Fred's somber look seemed to sum the whole problem up for her.
"Is he in power again?" asked Astoria, panic blossoming. "Are his followers?"
"No!" said George. "Nothing like that. He was living in Quirrell's body like a ghost. Harry stopped him from rising again."
These words had a strong transformative effect on Astoria. The world where Voldemort was in power was the world that her parents had belonged to. Astoria thought of her mother, locked away in Azkaban for war crimes and experienced such a mixed rush of emotions she thought she might cry.
Astoria had never had a mother and this was largely because of Voldemort. He had not killed Lucrezia, as he had Harry's mom, but he had taken her away nonetheless. The idea of Voldemort rising again while Astoria slept, intoxicated and confused, was so strange and frightening that she thought her chest might explode. A world with Voldemort in it was a world where all of the dark corners of Astoria's life came rushing in to blot out the future.
Harry had always struck her as a genuine and rather nice person, but Astoria had occasionally (although privately) thought of him as a senseless celebrity. Famed for doing something that he could not remember, it was hard to take him seriously. Furthermore, as an orphan, it often seemed as though Harry was given special privileges while so many others, like Theo, struggled along with their own losses in silence.
Frozen in front the portrait hole and facing the twins however, Astoria began to see Harry as the hero that had saved her without even knowing she needed saving.
0o0
Exam results arrived on the day of the leaving feast. Astoria had passed everything and her Transfiguration and History of Magic scores were actually, genuinely impressive. She had scored over a hundred percent in History of Magic by writing in a bonus. These were both highly academic classes and she knew her aunt would be pleased.
Harry Potter had woken up, revived and returned just in time for Dumbledore's farewell speech during which the headmaster had awarded Gryffindor hundreds of points for courage and valor. They had won the house cup for the first time in nearly a decade. Gryffindors everywhere were rejoicing.
The Slytherins were not.
"Its a blatant disregard for basic honor and structure," said Theo, watching the hills and fields pass by outside the train windows.
They had boarded the train leaving Hogwarts an hour ago and they had just managed to find a compartment for themselves.
"I mean, why bother waiting until the feast at all?" continued Theodore. "Why decorate the entire hall in Slytherin colors just to clap your hands and undo them? It's like he was trying to prove just how much he favors Gryffindor as publicly as he could!"
Astoria smiled tightly and unwrapped a chocolate frog. "I think you're making more out of it then he intended. Dumbledore was just trying to reward bravery and cleverness."
"Rule breaking, you mean?" insisted Theo firmly.
"I meant heroism, actually," breathed Astoria. "Look, you're right. Maybe Dumbledore shouldn't have switched the house cup winner in the end, but regardless of your politics or whether or not you believe the Dark Lord was under a trap door, Harry intentionally saved his friends before himself and faced down an enemy that grown wizards cower just thinking about. All because he thought it was the right thing to do. Sure, it lacks that certain self preserving instinct that Slytherins seem to savor, but you have to admit, the kid's got guts."
Theo blinked and turned to look out the window, mulling this over.
"Guts maybe," Theo admitted, "but not smarts. Potter survived because he was lucky. Whether it was the Dark Lord or just Quirrell down there, Potter didn't go to any teachers and he took two of his friends with him. I can appreciate the gumption," he raised a sardonic eyebrow, "but not the method."
"Analytical to the last!" exclaimed Astoria with a chuckle. "Where is your sense of emotion?"
"Buried under twenty generations of a surviving pureblood line," said Theo. "How do you think we've gone on so long? If I'm going to die on purpose, it's not going to be because I didn't think through all of my options first. I don't know what went wrong with you."
Astoria had to laugh at this, but she was still certain Theo has missing the most crucial point of her feelings on the matter.
"Chess?" asked Theo hopefully, clearly tired of the conversation already. Astoria suspected that it had already been quite a lot of talking in the Slytherin dormitory about the matter already so she relented and let him set up the board. "What are your plans for this summer, anyway?" Theodore asked.
"Dunno," said Astoria, feeling drained just thinking about so many months at home. "I'm taking a trip with some old family friends in July. Other then that, I'm sure my aunt would love to have me as much as she can and is probably arranging things right now to get what she wants."
Theo smirked and gestured to the board. "What team do you want?"
"White," said Astoria at once. "They go first, don't they?"
0o0
I know. I just got twelve year olds drunk. I'm sure I'll catch some flack for this, but I'd just like to say that while drinking at twelve is not perhaps desirable, it's not totally unheard of. Miles and Warrington are both older as well, making them count as something like bad influences in this case. I also think that Slytherins in general are probably good candidates for this kind of early rule breaking.
We don't see much of that sort of thing in the Harry Potter books, but (aside from the fact that they are YA novels) I think part of this probably has something to do with the fact that Harry is always busy carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Astoria, Blaise, Draco and Theo don't have such pressing issues in their lives and I think it's entirely possible that they have more time to kill and that the consequences of slacking off for a minute are much less grave for them. That being said, I hope I did not entirely glorify teen drinking.
This was the last chapter of the first book so I'm moving on to Chamber of Secrets in the next few installments. I feel as though this story is better played out by teenagers and the next few chapters are very exciting to me.
Let me know what you think! As always, reviews are a great pleasure to read!