Chapter Eight
Heir
0o0
By the next morning, the whole school seemed to know about Harry and Ron's flight to Hogwarts and the crash into the Whomping Willow that had followed. As though this adventure was not ludicrous enough on its own, there were now additional facts in circulation as well: the car had escaped into the forest of its own accord, neither boy had been expelled nor had they lost a single house point in the process. True to her promise to Fred and George on the train, however, Astoria faithfully chose to eat breakfast at the Slytherin table rather than taking part in Gryffindor gossip.
Having already consulted the notice board, Astoria knew that the first quidditch match of the season was slated as Gryffindor playing against Slytherin and she still had a vain hope of somehow trapping Marcus Flint in conversation before then. The most logical and obvious way of doing this, of course, seemed to be ambushing Marcus at his own breakfast table
Theodore was eating scrambled eggs on toast when Astoria sat down and he shot her a meaningful look before swallowing.
"Morning," he said slowly. "You've just missed it. Ron Weasley had a howler from his mother. The hall's in an uproar."
Theodore said this sarcastically, but one look down the Slytherin table proved that he was at least partially correct. Pansy and her crew of Slytherin girls did indeed have their heads together, whispering and shrieking with laughter intermittently.
"'If you put another toe out of line'!—" floated the loud, scathing voice of Draco Malfoy, clearly in imitation of Ron's mother. Astoria searched for the source of the noise and spotted Draco, sitting with a crowd of Slytherin quidditch players, who were all roaring with derisive mirth. Among these players, Astoria noticed, was the hardened face of Marcus Flint.
She continued to watch Marcus covertly as she poured her tea, trying to decide what sort of person he was. Marcus was very tall and broadly built, but there was something about the way he laughed that was reserved and intelligent—perhaps even slightly sinister?
"What's the deal with Marcus Flint?" asked Astoria, trying to keep her tone as light as possible to avoid rousing Theodore's suspicions. "What's he like?"
When Theo did not respond, Astoria glanced back at him. He had dropped egg into his coffee but was continued to sip it anyway, staring off at the Ravenclaw table in a state of distraction.
"Don't know," said Theodore at last. "He's quite a bit older isn't he? He seems like a thug, but in all fairness, he does a good job of keeping his team in line so he's probably smarter than he looks. Why do you care?"
"Fred and George want to take bets on the first match of the season and I thought I might do some research," admitted Astoria idly, wondering what Theodore could possibly find so interesting about the Ravenclaw table.
"I still don't get why you bother with any of that," muttered Theo, starting back in on his eggs, "but in the interest of your education, I do know this: Flint likes to win and he's not afraid to play dirty. He's also looking for a new seeker. Terrence Higgs graduated last spring."
"Do you think he would let me watch a Slytherin team practice if I told him it was all in the name of gambling?" asked Astoria avidly.
"I doubt it," admitted Theodore, his eyes straying back across the hall.
"What are you looking at?" asked Astoria peevishly, swiveling around in her seat at last in order to understand what was consuming Theodore's attention. All she could see across the hall in that particular direction was Padma Patil, however, busily going over a chapter in her potions text with Terry Boot.
"Nothing," said Theo hurriedly, turning the color of an ungainly radish. "Ask Marcus, then, if it means so much to you!"
0o0
Warned, but not altogether disheartened, Astoria determined that the best way of extracting useful information from Marcus Flint was to catch him on his own. Happily, fate almost immediately provided an opportunity of running into him.
Astoria was washing dirt off of her hands at the greenhouse spigot after Herbology when she spotted Marcus Flint strolling up the lawn with Professor Kettleburn. Blinking once or twice, hardly able to believe her luck, Astoria took the unnecessary precaution of ducking in order to stare after the duo covertly. A Care of Magical Creatures class had just finished. Several other sixth year students were approaching the castle as well, but Flint and Kettleburn were walking alone, giving every appearance of being in the middle of an academic discussion.
"Astoria, d'you mind if I get my hands under there for a minute?" asked Ernie Macmillan, pointing to the spout that Astoria had entirely forgotten about the moment she had spotted Flint, allowing icy jets of water to run into the grass in her absence.
Astoria hurriedly moved aside to give Ernie room, calculating how much time she still had before her next period Transfiguration class. Surely professor Kettleburn and Flint were talking about a class project and Kettleburn would not go all the way to the castle if he had another class next period? Astoria dried her hands on her skirt and darted out across the lawn, picking her way around the vegetable patch. There were pumpkins at the furthest end almost twice the size of her body. Astoria allowed herself to marvel at these for no more than a few seconds before turning around, determined to overtake Flint from the rear and make their meeting appear accidental.
Astoria passed professor Kettleburn, who was indeed returning to a paddock near the forest, as she jogged. Astoria smiled at him greedily, speeding up her pace.
"Hello, Marcus!" Astoria called happily, falling in with his loping strides.
Marcus raised a surprised eyebrow, glancing over both of his shoulders in a bid to figure out where she had come from. "Greengrass," he murmured, looking as amused as he did suspicious. "Fancy seeing you here. Did you cut your first class?"
"Oh, no," said Astoria with a winning smile. "I just took a stroll the long way around the greenhouses."
"Is that right?" returned Flint, who did not look at though believed this for a second.
"Getting keyed up for the quidditch season?" Astoria continued brightly, cutting almost directly to the point.
"I suppose," Marcus snorted. "Shouldn't I be? I am captain."
"I know," admitted Astoria, her smile turning predatory. "I don't suppose you remember, but last year I took bets on the outcome of one of the matches."
"That's right," said Marcus, shooting her a shirty sidelong look. "Of course, I seem to remember that you also set the Gryffindor Team beaters on anyone who refused to pay you."
"Oh, good, you do remember!" Astoria beamed encouragingly. "Well, then, it won't surprise you to know that I plan to do the same thing this year."
"What are you looking for, Greengrass?" asked Flint, stopping and turning to look at her with a rather patronizing smirk. "You want me to bet on my own match? I paid you last time, fair and square. I won't be turning over any more galleons to Gryffindor."
"That's fine," agreed Astoria. "I just figured that, since you've been playing for so many years, you might have something to say about who you think will win the match. I'm such a quidditch novice, after all."
Flint narrowed his eyes.
"How is your team looking this year?" Astoria pressed.
"Is it possible that you're looking for insider information, Greengrass?" asked Flint, his sharp smile deepening into a knowing smirk.
"In a matter of speaking," Astoria admitted, seeing no way of putting the matter delicately.
"You think I'm going to tell a Gryffindor all about my team's game strategy?" hooted Flint.
"No, I was actually hoping that you would let me watch one of your practices," Astoria concluded earnestly.
"In your dreams, maybe!" hooted Flint.
"Ok," said Astoria, who had come prepared to haggle, "what if, in return for your help, I gave you part of my winnings?"
Flint was still smirking but Astoria sensed a shift in his attitude. Marcus might be inclined to say no, but Astoria could tell that she finally had his whole ear. Flint was obviously interested in a Slytherin victory, but he was not wholly opposed to a side deal.
"I'm not going to sacrifice a whole quidditch match for a few measly galleons," explained Flint thoughtfully.
"Of course not," Astoria agreed. "All information gathered would be for gambling purposes only. I won't talk to anybody about what I see, you have my word."
"Your word?" drawled Flint, who had started walking again. "That's rich!"
"Not as rich as you might be if I were able to offer informed odds on the match," needled Astoria. "I'll tell you what, I'll make a deal with you. I'll cut you in at ten percent. If I share any Slytherin team secrets, you can sick your beaters on me for the whole thing."
Flint said nothing for a long moment, considering this improved offer. They had reached the entrance hall when he finally spoke. "Alright. I'll consider it, but only because it looks like the Slytherin team might be receiving a considerable donation this year. If that comes through, I'll feel confident enough to risk it. I'll be in touch."
They parted ways at the staircase. Astoria jogged to class grinning, five minutes late but not caring in the slightest.
0o0
Autumn settled over the grounds like a blanket of rustling foliage over the next week. On Saturday morning, Astoria met Theodore in the library. Outside the window, red and gold poplar leaves scurried like mice across the courtyard and Astoria could just make out the dull grey plumes of smoke coming from Hagrid's fireplace.
"Draco's claiming that Potter got caught handing out signed photographs of himself," said Theo informatively, looking over Astoria's astronomy chart for her.
"What? That's rubbish. Let's take our books out to the courtyard," Astoria urged, distracted by the magical fall that was happening outside, possessed by a need to inhale the smells of decay and woodsmoke.
"It looks cold—" observed Theo doubtfully, breaking off as Marcus Flint entered the library. "What does he want?"
Improbably, Marcus Flint came to a stop when he spotted them. He was now motioning toward Astoria clandestinely. Astoria pushed out of her seat and crossed the room.
"Your sister said you would be here," explained Flint, wasting no time. "I'm having practice in an hour. You can come, but if you get caught taking bets by any of the teachers, my name gets left out. If I find out you've been in cahoots with Wood, I'll eat you alive. Understood?"
"Right. Cannibalism. Got it," quirked Astoria enthusiastically. "Ill be there and I'm bringing Theo."
Flint glanced at Theo, stringy and thin in his Slytherin robes, and then shrugged.
"Why are you having secretive conversations with Marcus Flint?" demanded Theodore tensely the moment Astoria sat down.
"Because I'm pregnant with his child," answered Astoria flatly, carefully not changing her expression. Theo did not seem to have a single response for this so Astoria shoved him in the shoulder and started to pack up her things. "I've managed to talk him into letting me watch a Slytherin quidditch practice. It's in an hour and you're coming with me."
"How did you get him to agree to that?" asked Theodore, giving off an air of suspicious bewilderment. "I don't suppose it's possible that you actually are pregnant with his child and just don't know it yet?"
Astoria laughed, which only seemed to make Theo shoulders grow more tense.
"Of course not!" she clarified. "I've worked out a bit of a deal with him."
An hour and a half later, Astoria and Theodore were finally walking across the grounds toward the quidditch pitch. They had been late leaving the library because at first, Theodore had refused to go with her. Then, after much nagging and persuading, Astoria had finally gotten Theodore to his feet only to have him insist that he needed an extra sweater. At that point, sulky and suspicious that Theo might disappear into his dormitory (where she would be unable to reach him), Astoria had been forced to follow him all the way down to the dungeons and wait outside the stone wall that concealed the Slytherin common room until he reappeared.
The Slytherin team was still on the ground when they reached the stadium and if the hoots of laughter coming from the green-clad players were any indication, Astoria and Theodore had just missed something exceedingly hilarious.
"Hope you weren't coming to watch the Gryffindor practice, Astoria!" called Adrian Pucey as they approached. "They've just cleared out."
"Good thing I wasn't," returned Astoria calmly, surveying the scene.
There were some new faces on the team this year, but they were united by a singular expression; they were all leering triumphantly. Astoria was surprised to spot Draco Malfoy standing near Marcus, dressed in green like the rest of the team. In his hand, he was clutching a dark, sleek-looking broom. Draco caught Astoria's eye.
"Like it?" he asked, gesturing to the broomstick gloatingly. "Father got them for the whole team."
Astoria was beginning to understand what Flint had meant by 'expecting a large donation'.
"Joined, have you?" Astoria asked, determined not to be impressed by Draco or the small fortune in broomsticks he was apparently responsible for.
"I'm the new seeker," confirmed Malfoy, his eyes shining with barely repressed satisfaction. "I don't suppose even Potter can outstrip the new Nimbus model, but I'm sure it'll be fun for you to watch him try."
"Where do you want me to sit, Marcus?" asked Astoria, ignoring Draco and hoping it annoyed him.
"You're not watching our practice," cried Adrian Pucey scathingly.
"In the lower stands," replied Flint lazily. "You should be able to see from there. We're practicing on this end."
"Are you kidding, Flint?" spat Adrian. "She'll go back to Wood with everything she sees!"
"Never you mind," said Flint, sounding so perfectly unconcerned that his voice border-lined amused.
"Will I understand what I'm watching?" Astoria asked innocently, treasuring the look of confusion on Malfoy's face.
"Hopefully not," shot Adrian scathingly. As a sixth year, Adrian seemed to be the most upset to discover that a move had clearly taken place in secret over his head.
"Bole!" yelled Flint, pointing to a round, rather constipated looking boy near the back. "You're an alternate. Go sit with Greengrass and explain formation to her."
Bole looked like he wanted to disagree, but Flint glared at him so he shuffled forward.
"Thanks, Marcus!" called Astoria over her shoulder girlishly, starting off toward the stands. "You're a peach."
Flint snorted but Astoria caught something of a smirk on his face before he turned around.
"Alright," admitted Theo as they mounted the stands. "I take back any doubts I may have expressed. This little exercise of yours is worth it, if only to watch it ruin Malfoy's day."
"It didn't ruin Malfoy's day," Astoria scoffed, taking out a notebook. "He's still on the quidditch team, isn't he?"
"Yeah," said Theo, smirking slyly, "because of his assets, not his competency. You just waltzed right in and stole the thunder away from his father's generous donation. Do you think Flint even made Malfoy try out for that position?"
"Probably not," Astoria shrugged, feeling a prickle of discomfort, "but I've seen him fly, he's alright."
Theodore made a jeering noise and slumped back into his seat. When the team took to the air, Bole sighed bitterly and began to explain flight patterns.
0o0
"Slytherin's got a set of new Nimbus Two Thousand and One's and Lucius Malfoy's son is playing seeker," announced George brusquely at dinner, slinging himself into a seat and pulling a platter of chicken legs up to his plate. "We found out at practice today."
"Slick little git bought his way onto the team. It doesn't even matter if he's any good or not because the whole game is rigged now," growled Fred. "We had to have our practice this evening because Flint went to Snape and usurped Oliver's field booking!"
Both twins were still in quidditch robes and they looked grumpy and wind swept.
"I already knew," Astoria confessed. "I watched their practice today."
"From where?" burst George. "You can't see anything on the pitch from the castle towers—it's too far away, we've tried."
"I watched it from the stands, actually," said Astoria lightly, wishing she had told Fred and George about her proposition to Flint before they had found out about Lucius Malfoy's contribution. Somehow, she sensed by the looks on their crestfallen faces that they were not going to find her plan as brilliant now.
"Flint didn't see you?" asked Fred, stunned.
"Well, yes," said Astoria, pushing her finished dinner away, "he saw me. Remember how I said on the train I was going to try to get the scoop on all the teams before the season started?"
"Yeah," said George, his chicken leg suspended in midair. "Why? What did you do?"
"Well, I kind of struck a deal with Flint."
Fred and George's faces both turned stoney. George dropped the hock of meat onto his plate with a dull splat and wiped his hands on his napkin. "What kind of deal?" he asked seriously.
"The kind where I get to watch the Slytherins play once or twice so that I know all of their strengths and weaknesses, and Flint gets a small cut of our betting profits." Astoria made sure to emphasize the word 'small'.
"Go to Wood," said Fred at once. "Flint cheated and let Malfoy buy his way onto the team. I say we cheat too."
Astoria shook her head. "I told him I wouldn't."
"So?" demanded George. "A promise made to Flint is a promise null and void, I say!"
"I told Marcus that if I went to Wood, I'd give him all the winnings. My lips are sealed."
George scowled but his shoulders sagged. "Fine. Money is money, I guess. We need it pretty badly. Can you at least tell us how fast the brooms were?"
"Faster than yours, I'd imagine," drawled Draco Malfoy, who had crossed the hall with Crabbe and Goyle.
"You're awfully confident, Malfoy," returned Fred smoothly. "Especially for a person that no one has ever even seen fly before. I reckon you start to shake the moment you hit sixty feet."
Malfoy's smug look became cold. "Bitter, are we? I suppose you could always ask your father to do something for the Gryffindor team, Weasley. I wonder if it would be against the rules for you all to fly junk cars?"
"Alright," said Astoria loudly, standing up in an effort to avoid confrontation, fighting down the temptation to tell all three boys where she thought they ought to shove their broomsticks. "I'm off to do homework."
Whatever Malfoy had dragged Crabbe and Goyle across the great hall to achieve didn't seem to involve Fred or George Weasley, however, because he followed Astoria around the end of the table.
"I was surprised to see you at practice today, Greengrass," he called after her, his voice tense with annoyance.
"Yeah?" scoffed Astoria. "Well, that makes two of us."
Theodore rolled his eyes as Astoria passed the Slytherin table and exited the hall with Draco trailing behind her.
"I imagine you must have worked pretty hard to get Flint to let you into that practice," continued Draco aggressively. "Why did you want to see it anyway? What do you care?"
"It wasn't that hard, actually," Astoria shot back, hoping to lose Draco at the staircase. "Flint's not such a bad guy."
"Flint's not such a bad guy?" Malfoy repeated jeeringly, taking the steps two at a time. "Flint would go around groping swamp muggles if he thought he could get away with it!"
"Careful, that's your new captain," warned Astoria, repressing a grin. "You should show some respect! Does he really fondle muggles?"
"Probably," sneered Malfoy. "I certainly wouldn't put it past him, but if you think he's alright—"
"Why do you care so much, Draco?" Astoria snapped, cresting the second floor hallway. "I'm not planning to sabotage your match if that's what you're after!"
"Then why are you sitting in on Slytherin's practices?" demanded Malfoy, visibly flustered. "If you're planning some kind of Gryffindor cock-up, I suppose I deserve to know about it!"
"What are you talking about?" Astoria moaned, feeling as though she had lost the flow of the conversation somewhere. "Flint didn't explain it to any of you?"
"Explain what?" Malfoy spat, absolutely red with indignation. "Are you Flint's little groupie now? Because I'm sure I could survive without those details."
Astoria was slightly surprised by this. She did not think that Flint was stupid, but his silence about their deal raised her faith in him considerably.
"What about groupies? I'm taking bets on the next game, Malfoy," Astoria sighed in exasperation, unsure whether or not to be offended. "I'm not dating Flint or fixing games. I—Ugh!"
They had both just splashed into nearly four inches of water. Malfoy scowled and jumped toward the window where the floor was raised just enough to be above water level, but both of his ankles were already wet.
Astoria sloshed over to him. "Why's the hallway flooded?"
"I don't know," snapped Draco, clearly displeased by the state of his wet shoes. "It's coming from over there—"
He pointed toward a door several feet away.
"Oh, ew!" Astoria exclaimed, dancing even further away from the water. "That's moaning Myrtle's bathroom!"
Draco made a face that quickly vanished, his eyes catching on a bit of vandalism someone had written on the wall furthest from them.
"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" asked Astoria, squinting at the same lurid red scrawl.
A look of understanding flitted across Malfoy's features. "Come on," he insisted, his tone suddenly clear. "We have to get out of this hallway."
"Enemies of the Heir, beware?" Astoria muttered, reading out-loud wonderingly. "The heir to what?"
"You've never heard of the Chamber of Secrets?" drawled Malfoy in gleeful disbelief.
"No," answered Astoria, trying to get closer without having to splash back into the water.
"Astoria!" Malfoy hissed, grabbing her by the arm before she could edge any closer. "Come on! I'm not getting caught in this hallway."
Startled by his sudden authority, Astoria stopped trying to move toward the writing on the wall. They could both hear the sound of other students now, moving around a floor below them and a sudden infectious fear that Astoria couldn't explain began to creep into her limbs.
The red paint on the wall glistened sinisterly and Astoria finally understood what it was that was putting such shivers down her back. Beside the mysterious writing was the hanging, immobile figure of a cat, swinging slightly below the torch bracket.
Her scope of terror broadened. Astoria turned and stumbled back down the stairs behind Malfoy mutely, confused and afraid.
"Is that supposed to be some kind of sick halloween joke?" Astoria panted once they had regained the first floor. "Was that Flich's cat?"
"The Chamber of Secrets," Draco insisted impatiently, certain that something must eventually click for her. "Slytherin's monster?" he tried.
Astoria shook her head and Draco let out an incredulous scoff. A cluster of students passed on their way to the staircase and Astoria's sense of unease tripled.
Draco waited for the pack to disappear from sight before beginning his rapid tirade, recounting facts with the cold precision and detachment of a remembered folk-tale he had heard many times before.
"Legend says that Salazar Slytherin built a secret chamber at Hogwarts. In it, he concealed a monster that could rid the school of all the mudblood filth that the other founders were letting in in droves. But Slytherin left the school, so the Chamber remained sealed until his true heir could return and set the monster free. How have you never heard this before?"
A sudden commotion in the hall above drew Astoria's eyes toward the ceiling. Draco indicated toward the stairway quietly. Unable to resist the morbid allure, Astoria followed him.
A small crowd was forming in the second floor corridor now. In the middle of this cluster stood Professors Dumbledore, Snape, Lockhart and McGonagall. Filch was slumped against the wall, sobbing and cursing intermittently. Standing between the adults and the crowd of students was Harry Potter, looking very pale indeed.
"You've murdered my cat!" wailed Filch at a stunned and visibly shaken Harry. "You'll pay for this!"
Malfoy laughed softly, beyond himself with delight at this unfortunate turn of events.
"Argus!" cried Dumbledore warningly, detaching Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. There was something very grave about his expression as he summoned Harry toward him. Fending off Lockhart, they both retreated down the hall with Snape.
Professor McGonagall began to take charge of the corridor. "All students are to report immediately to their house dormitories," she called out shrilly, motioning toward Percy and Roger Davis to help her create order, as they were both prefects and they both happened to be part of the assembled audience.
"Gryffindors this way!" called Percy in his bossiest voice, ushering Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet away from the vast puddle.
Professor Snape had followed Dumbledore, so there was no one ushering Draco or any of the other Slytherins back down the staircase.
"This way Hermione," said Percy, pointing at her. "You too, Astoria."
"You'll be next, Mudbloods!" Malfoy called out before Hermione was out of earshot. Astoria turned her eyes away, afraid he might try to bring her in on the joke.
0o0
It took a very long time for Astoria to fall asleep that night. The image of the cat, while gruesome, was only one of the many ghosts that haunted her.
The fact that someone had attacked Mrs. Norris, despite the many times Astoria had been tempted to do so herself, was actually rather shocking. What was more, Astoria and Draco had been the first people to find her. Had they been near the attacker the whole time? Perhaps they had even warned him away with their loud, approaching voices?
What if Astoria had been walking alone, not speaking, as she had originally intended? Would she have accidentally run into this spectral attacker herself? What if Draco was right? Could it be that the writing on the wall had not been the act of a student at all, but of a legendary monster?
If even half of this was true, then the heir of Slytherin had returned to Hogwarts. Could one of Astoria's peers secretly be in league with a beast, intent on murdering people of lesser blood status? If so, who might that person be?
Something about the unnatural hush of the dormitory told Astoria that she was not the only one laying awake. Finally, around midnight, Lavender Brown timidly broke the silence.
"Hermione?" she whispered, her voice low and frightened.
There was a brief pause before Hermione whispered back. "Yes?"
Lavender and Hermione were not particularly good friends, but something about the evening had rattled them all and made comrades out of everyone.
"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" asked Lavender.
Hermione didn't say anything for a moment. "I can't remember," she sighed at last, irritated with herself. "There's something in Hogwarts, A History about it, though. I'll check it out of the library tomorrow."
"I think I've heard of it before," joined Parvati quietly. "It has something to do with Slytherin. The founder, not the house."
Astoria waited with baited breath but when no one had anything else to say, she added, "I heard Slytherin was supposed to have built the chamber and that he put a monster in it."
The silence was suddenly very heavy.
"What?" whispered Parvati in a voice infused with terror. "What does the monster do? Why are there always monsters at Hogwarts?"
Astoria hesitated, unsure how to word what Draco had told her in a delicate fashion—or if she even wanted to try. "I think it has something to do with being muggle-born," said Astoria at last, "because Slytherin was all about blood purity."
"Who told you that?" asked Hermione tensely.
"No one," said Astoria quickly. "I just heard one of the Slytherins talking."
"Well, I'm a pureblood anyway," said Lavender angrily, "but if the monster only attacks muggle-borns, why did it attack Mrs. Norris?"
"I dunno," Astoria whispered, considering this.
"My mom was muggle-born," said Parvati anxiously, "but my dad's family has been all pure-bloods for a long time. Do you think the monster would attack me?"
"Probably not," said Astoria soothingly. "Not if you're half-blooded."
Hermione didn't say anything at all and as the seconds passed by, her silence became dreadful.
0o0
Astoria did not sleep in on Sunday despite how long she had tossed and turned the night before. The cold dawn broke the pact of the Gryffindor girls' kinship, however. Hermione was already out of bed and gone from the dormitory by the time Astoria rose. Lavender and Parvati, meanwhile, both continued to slumber with their bed curtains closed.
A thick, glistening frost was visible though the tower windows as she exited the portrait hole. Hermione had said that there was something about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets written in a book, so Astoria turned her steps toward the library, thinking she might try to check out a copy before somebody else beat her to it.
Astoria was clearly not the first to think of this, however, because the library was unnaturally busy for eight o'clock in the morning on a Sunday and the shelf that should have contained three copies of Hogwarts, A History was already bare. Three identical bald trails through the dust showed that each book had been removed recently and Madam Pince confirmed that ever copy had been checked out that morning when Astoria summoned the courage to ask her.
Spotting Theodore through a gap in the shelves, she felt her hopes rekindle. If anyone had already Hogwarts, A History and stood a chance of remembering its passages, it was Theo.
Theodore was not alone near the window, however. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were all leaning against his table as well: a grouping that struck Astoria as very peculiar. They were whispering when Astoria drew near, and they all jumped apart guiltily when they realized they were not alone.
"Hi," Astoria mumbled.
Madame Pince's soft, lurching shuffle passed through the aisle behind them. Theodore waited for the librarian to carry on before speaking.
"The Chamber of Secrets was supposedly opened last night, have you heard? Filch's cat was petrified. Someone wrote on the wall with blood."
"She knows," drawled Draco lazily. "She was with me, Nott."
"So the cat's not dead?" asked Astoria, surprised to find herself somewhat relieved.
"Not according to Flint," said Malfoy, who seemed to have gotten over his violent aversion to Marcus overnight now that Flint was in the know and it had been ascertained that Astoria was not his fan-girl or fomenting corruption. "Apparently he spoke to Snape this morning."
"How do you know the message on the wall was written in blood?" Astoria wondered. "It just looked red paint from where we were standing."
"Snape says it was chicken blood," Theo interrupted. "Apparently all of Hagrid's chickens were strangled last night."
Astoria blanched. Whether the whole thing was a prank or not, someone had still strangled a dozen chickens and magically petrified a cat. In Astoria's opinion, this was not a laughing matter but Draco and indeed, even Theo, both seemed slightly amused.
"Well it's not exactly funny, is it?" Astoria snapped as Draco and Theo exchanged glances. "I don't suppose either of you are psychotic enough to be sneaking out of school and throttling chickens? Everyone is in danger! Why are you both grinning?"
"Astoria," drawled Draco scathingly, "the heir of Slytherin only attacks mudbloods. What does it matter? Just keep your head down and let him carry out his business."
This did not sit well with Astoria at all.
"How do you know it's just muggle-borns who are in danger?" she insisted. "This whole thing could be the work of some Ravenclaw with a history book! There's no proof it has anything to do with a legendary monster at all!"
"It's not a ravenclaw," argued Draco confidently.
"How do you know?" asked Astoria.
"Because Father seemed to think something like this might happen this year," said Malfoy carelessly. "I suppose if he's convinced, then it's the real thing and not a prank."
Theodore shot Draco a look of surprise and Astoria guessed that this was why they had been whispering.
"How does your dad know?" asked Astoria, finding this very odd indeed.
Draco blinked and perhaps realized he had let on too much because he seemed to backpedal slightly. "How should I know? He hears things from all sorts of people..."
"Did he tell you who was doing it?" asked Astoria intently.
"Of course not," said Draco bitterly. "He won't even tell me anything about the last time it was opened. He says it would look suspicious if I knew too much."
Draco might feel resentful about this but Astoria thought that Lucius had a fair point. Especially as his son had already accidentally revealed more then he should have without knowing any of the actual particulars at all.
"The Chamber was opened before?" asked Astoria. How had she never heard of the Chamber of Secrets before if there had been attacks on students in the past?
"Yeah," said Malfoy, reclining in his seat somewhat cockily, clearly enjoying his position of power as the only font of information. "Of course, it was nearly fifty years ago, so it would have been before father's time. Whoever it was that did it must have been expelled or imprisoned—it can't be the same person now."
"Unless it's a teacher," said Theo slowly.
"Shhhh!" said Madame Pince, dragging a severe return route to her desk.
"Let's go to the courtyard," complained Malfoy, shooting Pince a nasty look. "I'm sick of whispering."
Draco hadn't been whispering at all but Astoria and Theo both followed him out of the library behind Crabbe and Goyle anyway, equally eager to hear what he had to say. Malfoy seemed to know this it too, and it lent him an air of even greater haughtiness than usual.
"Of course, the last time the Chamber was opened," Draco went on as they passed the clock tower, "a student actually died and the school had to hush it up as much as they could to avoid being closed."
"It's almost sort of fascinating, isn't it?" said Theodore. "All of the books claim that the Chamber of Secrets is nothing more than a bedtime story."
This struck Astoria as slightly heartless but Theo had a tendency to see most things through detached, scholastic eyes so she did not call him out.
"Someone died?" asked Astoria quietly.
"Yeah," shrugged Malfoy unconcernedly. "I suppose it's only a matter of time before someone else is killed this time. It's too bad Longbottom's parents weren't muggles..."
Crabbe and Goyle both guffawed. Astoria could not truly find this funny, but as there were no books on the subject left, it seemed disadvantageous to make Malfoy stop talking.
"You know," mused Astoria thoughtfully, watching a bird circle in the sky, "there's no reason the Heir couldn't be a Ravenclaw. Even if the Chamber really has been opened."
"It's the heir of Slytherin, isn't it?" said Malfoy a little defensively.
"I know," said Astoria, sitting on one of the large stone benches in the open air walkway, "but that doesn't mean I person could't be related to Slytherin and still be sorted into another house. Look at my family. I'm the first non-Slytherin in a hundred years."
"You're a freak anomaly, though," said Theo, producing what looked like a very dingy, rolled cigarette from deep down in his robes. "I'm convinced you forced the hat to put you in Gryffindor just to annoy your aunt. Although you do make a good point."
"What is that?" asked Malfoy, eyeing the cigarette in Theo's hands doubtfully.
"Loose tobacco I got off of Pucey," said Theo unashamedly, lighting it with the tip of his wand.
The tobacco smelled like acrid, ancient dust burning and Astoria had to work hard to hide her grin.
"Take that thing down wind, would you?" sneered Malfoy disdainfully, standing up to escape the radius of foul smoke.
Theo shrugged, still puffing, but he ambled down the hall toward a grassy spot near the courtyard.
"Just look at him," drawled Draco condescendingly, "he thinks he's such an academic."
Astoria could no longer suppress her smile. "I might get him a pipe for Christmas."
"So, I suppose Potter's all in a dither," Malfoy sneered, changing topics. "Plotting to catch the heir of Slytherin and impress us all with his heroics again, is he?"
"I haven't asked," said Astoria, who could not bring herself to really dislike Harry and did not especially want to waste her time making fun of him.
"Seems like the sort of thing he would try to do, doesn't it?" said Malfoy. "He loves to stick his nose where it doesn't belong."
"I don't know," said Astoria. "Why, are you afraid he'll think you're the Heir and come after you?"
She laughed heartily, struck by the idea that Harry and Draco might spend a year locked in a battle that did not even exist.
"Why's that so ridiculous?" asked Draco sharply, clearly offended. "For all you know, I could be the heir of Slytherin."
"Except that you're not," scoffed Astoria confidently. "I found Mrs. Norris with you, didn't I? So unless your powers as Heir extend to being in two places at once..."
Draco flushed and stared off after Theodore, his faced etched with displeasure.
"Why would you want to be the Heir of Slytherin anyway," wondered Astoria, vaguely exasperated. "You really want to sneak around the school at night attacking people? You'd probably just end up expelled."
"I wouldn't get caught," Malfoy sneered irritably.
Across the courtyard, Astoria suddenly became aware of a flash of red hair. Fred, George and Lee Jordan were cutting across the yard near the fountain. Panicking slightly, Astoria fought an immediate urge to duck. Now that Theodore had wandered off, it struck her afresh how odd and vaguely disloyal it might appear to be seen lurking in a corner with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Oh, look," observed Draco in a rude tone that could have almost been mistaken for one of jealousy. "It's your pals. God, between Theodore and the Weasley twins, Greengrass, I'm starting to think you were born with no taste."
Astoria's eyes fluttered onto Crabbe and Goyle, who were both blinking oafishly. She raised her eyebrows pointedly.
"Neither of their parents have ever been accused of tinkering with muggle trash," scoffed Draco, obviously catching the insult.
"Fine," Astoria sighed, "but they're not interesting either, are they? You spend so much time talking about how you're a superior class of wizard, but what's the point of being so well bred if you don't even get to have any fun?"
Astoria grinned at Draco in the sunny, conspiratorial way that she usually reserved for convincing people to start trouble with her.
For the briefest of seconds, Draco appeared to have been briefly hypnotized, forgetting to shape his soft expression into an insulted one. Then, with a self conscious twitch, Draco sneered and the affected look was gone.
But Astoria had seen it and, for the first time, she found herself flirting with the idea that it might be within her power to make Draco act stupidly. Thankfully, the concept made her feel vaguely self-conscious. With hardly any hesitation, she managed to flick her worry aside: much like the look that she suspected Draco had not meant for her to see in the first place.
0o0
The day of the first match of the season arrived, overcast and pregnant with unshed rain and repressed thunder. The static in the air could not even be contained by the sky; it was electrically present amongst the student body.
Astoria had never known an approaching match to be treated with such intensity. As far as everybody was concerned, Gryffindor had not had such a talented team since the legendary Charlie Weasley had left school. But the Slytherins, in true form, had fought back this advantage most spectacularly—they had secured a fleet of the best brooms that money could buy. The winner, therefore, was anybody's guess and Astoria had spent the last week accepting bets up to her very highest limit.
"I'm not going to sit in the stands during the match," Astoria announced to Fred and George the night before. "I'm going to get a pair of good binoculars and set up shop in one of the towers. There's too much interest in the outcome of the game. I don't want one of the teachers to spot me or overhear anyone talking to and get suspicious."
Fred and George both seemed to think that this was a very good idea. "You're better off out of it," Fred agreed.
So, at ten o'clock on Saturday, Astoria wished Fred and George good luck and wandered off to find Theo, suspecting that he wouldn't want to sit in the stadium either and might be content keep her company.
The Slytherin team, if anything, looked more agitated than their Gryffindor counterparts. Perhaps being in possession of so many Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones was enough to make the threat of losing seem doubly shameful?
"Are you going to the match?" Astoria asked, leaning against the table behind Theo in order to snag a piece of toast from one of the bread holders.
"Of course not," scoffed Theodore. "It's bound to be packed. I'll be in the library like a sane person."
"Come with me to the astronomy tower?" Astoria suggested. "I'm watching from there to avoid running into teachers."
Theo's face lit up with delight. "Fantastic! That tower's open at the top, right?" He rubbed his long thin fingers together. "I can smoke there."
At that moment, Astoria was forced to move aside because the Slytherin team was getting up to leave. She nodded respectfully toward Flint and tried to make eye contact with Draco, who was looking much paler than usual—a far cry from the confident swagger he had been employing in the days leading up to the match.
"Looks a little piqued, doesn't he?" murmured Theo in a low, satisfied voice. "I guess money can't buy confidence."
Astoria was almost inclined to pity Draco, but he was avoiding her eye like the plague and concentrating hard on keeping his breakfast down, so Astoria let him pass in silence.
The Astronomy tower was one of the tallest in the castle and by the time they had established themselves with scarves, sweaters and a throw blanket that Theo had nicked from his common room, the match was just getting started. Theo had added additional enchantments to Astoria's binoculars and they were taking it in turns to peer through them at the distant red and green figures.
"You can't quite tell who is who," Astoria complained, crossing off an ill advised bet and blowing on her cold fingers to warm them.
"You can kind of guess who they are by what position they're playing," insisted Theo, lighting one of his foul smelling cigarettes and offering it to Astoria.
Astoria shook her head, thinking that occasionally stealing an expensive French cigarette from her aunt to be bothersome was one thing, but smoking anything as foul smelling as what Theodore was holding toward her was quite another.
"Tap the glass lenses twice to zoom," ordered Theo, his voice warming with touch of satisfaction as Astoria tried out his new enhancements. "See? Now you can see better."
"You're so handy!" declared Astoria happily, tapping away to prompt the eyepieces into sharper focus.
Theo blushed unattractively but seemed satisfied.
"I was in the library when a handful of Ravenclaws were trying this spell out," he explained. "I think they were trying to use a glass to look at fallen leaves close up."
"Which Ravenclaws?" Astoria asked, taking great care to keep her face composed. Theodore had been staring avidly at the Ravenclaw table in the hall quite a lot lately.
"I don't know," Theo muttered, shifting. "Some of the girls from our year."
"Girls, eh?" said Astoria slyly, not taking her eyes off of the game, sensing that direct eye contact would silence Theodore completely. "Been making new friends, have you?"
"Hardly," said Theodore defensively. "I just thought it was an interesting bit of magic, that's all. You know me too well to think I was creeping on girls in the library!"
Astoria did indeed know Theodore rather well; well enough to know that he was unlikely to spend his time spying on people that didn't interest him at any rate, but she didn't quite have the heart to say so.
"Of course," Astoria demurred kindly. "What Ravenclaw girls are in our year? I can't remember them all."
"Lisa Turpin, Mandy Brocklehurst... that Patil girl," Theo rattled off, but something about the vague way that he said 'that Patil girl' instead of using her full name made Astoria feel certain that she was the real object of his snooping.
"There's something weird going on with the bludger," said Astoria suddenly, squinting hard.
"Can't be," said Theo indifferently, plainly relived to change the subject. He leafed through her book of hidden bets. "I wish I could see what you've written in here. Technically you could let me look, couldn't you?"
"Technically I could, but I'm not taking any chances," said Astoria smartly. "The bludger is just following Harry, I think someone's hexed it."
Theo held out his hand for the magical binoculars and Astoria passed them to him. "Huh," said Theo, frowning at last. "That's weird."
"Give me the binoculars back," Astoria ordered. Not being able to see was somehow worse than watching it happen.
"Potter sure gets more than his fair share of tampered quidditch supplies, doesn't he?" said Theo, trying not to laugh.
Astoria peered through the lenses just in time to watch the bludger slam into Harry's elbow. Astoria winced, her book of bets forgotten. "It hit him!"
"Did it really?" asked Theo, sounding moderately amused. "I wonder if they'll call the match because of illegal hexing."
"Could you be less analytical for just one minute?" Astoria complained.
It turned out she did not need a whole minute; Harry had collapsed into the mud, clutching a tiny golden ball in his good hand.
"He's got the snitch!" Astoria screamed, standing up and sending the blankets flying. "It hit him but he caught it anyway! The whole thing is over!"
"Well bully for Potter," scoffed Theo, slightly resentful that he hadn't been able to witness any of the hilarious maiming.
"Gryffindor won!" Astoria danced up and down. "They've barely been playing for fifteen minutes!"
"Are you exhibiting House pride?" asked Theo, sounding a little disgusted. "I didn't think you had it in you."
"What? Are you kidding?" cried Astoria shrilly. "Do you know how much money I just made?"
"I don't actually," returned Theodore flatly. "I can't read anything that's written in your notebook. For all I know, you're making the whole thing up and all of those pages are blank."
"Give me that," said Astoria, snatching up the book. "This is fantastic. Nearly everybody bet on Slytherin because of the broomstick advantage. We've swept the board!"
"If you say so," said Theo, still peering at the game. "Oh look, everyone else has stormed the field. I think Potter's fainted."
"Well, I suppose he does have a broken arm," insisted Astoria a bit defensively. "Does he look alright?"
"Too far away to tell. Ah!—" cried Theo in delight. "Lockhart's got him!"
Astoria stared at Theo, transfixed.
"Hagrid's helping him up to the castle," Theo muttered. "It looks like Lockhart tried to do a spell. Ten galleons says it didn't work—now that's a bet I'll let you write me down for."
"I don't think so," grumbled Astoria, privately relived to hear that there was anything left of Harry at all. "Hey, if I write some numbers on another piece of paper without names, will you double check my math?"
They both pulled the blanket back up over their legs and Theo lit another cigarette. "Here," said Astoria, passing him the last scrap of paper. "I've got two thousand and fifty, what do you have?"
"Closer to two thousand and sixty," said Theo slowly, his cigarette pinched between his lips, one eye squinting to keep out smoke. "No wait, you're right, two thousand and fifty. Some of these twos look a lot like sevens..."
"All right," said Astoria, circling the number in her book before probing the scraps of paper with her wand. They promptly caught fire and curled into ashes.
"Is that really how much you've made off of the last two matches?" asked Theo, surprised and perhaps a little bit impressed.
"No," admitted Astoria coyly, knowing she couldn't talk about it but unable to resist bragging. "That's what I made on this match alone."
"And you're really going to turn it all over to the Weasleys?" asked Theodore, gobsmacked.
"Not my savings obviously," said Astoria, spewing like a leaky faucet in her excitement. "My aunt manages that money, so I'll have to put it back in. Once I subtract the fifty we lost though, I'll hand over the new thousand to the twins and my aunt will never even know that I tampered with my account at all!"
"That's risky," said Theo darkly. "What if you lost it all? Wouldn't your aunt be angry?"
"Fortune favors the brave!" insisted Astoria, rather falsely laughing off the idea Belladonna's wrath if she were ever to learn that Astoria had bet her savings not once, but twice.
"It sure does!" exclaimed a beaming George Weasley, bounding up the last of the tower steps with his brother at his heels. "How did we do?"
"Since you asked—fantastic!" confirmed Astoria, tucking the book under her arm. "I'll go over the numbers with you later. Congratulations on the match!"
"Thanks!" said Fred heartily. "Did you see the rogue bludger?"
"Yeah," frowned Astoria. "What was that about?"
"Dunno," scoffed George, "but someone definitely tampered with it.
"I don't suppose you heard anything about it in your common room?" asked Fred, directing an unkind look at Theodore.
Theo made a dispassionate face and climbed out from under the throw blanket with surprising dignity. "Well, that's my cue to leave."
"Theo," Astoria whined, shooting the twins an angry look. "He didn't mean anything by it."
"I kind of did, actually," said Fred darkly. "Harry's in the hospital wing right now with his arm deboned."
"De-what?" asked Theo, his interest revived.
"Deboned," offered George, pulling an uneasy face. "He broke his whole arm when the bludger hit him and then Lockhart accidentally removed all the bones in in it instead of healing them."
Theo bit his lip to hide his mirth. "Yes, well, that is unfortunate," he simpered in an oily voice, trying to catch Astoria's eye.
"That still doesn't make Slytherin the winners, though, does it?" goaded Fred.
"We've just see Flint hollering at Malfoy," added George with a smirk. "He was saying the snitch was literally on top of Malfoy's head the whole time and he didn't notice. Flint looked livid and we reckon Malfoy was really sour about it."
"It's nearly impossible to curse quidditch balls because they've got all kind of protections on them," declared Theodore. "You're beaters, you should know that. It probably wasn't a student who cursed the bludger, least of all a member of the Slytherin quidditch team—most of that lot could give new meaning to the term 'thick as thieves'. I'll catch you later, Astoria."
Theo inched past the twins and shot her a last look of annoyance before disappearing down the spiral staircase.
"What's that supposed to mean? 'It wasn't a student'? What's he on about?" asked Fred hotly. "You reckon he thinks it was a teacher?"
"I don't know," said Astoria irritably, "but he might have told you, if you hadn't been so rude to him."
"Do you think he was talking about the Heir of Slytherin?" asked George suspiciously.
"I doubt it," Astoria sighed. "I think he was just trying to say that no one on the Slytherin quidditch team is wizard enough to pull off a spell so advanced."
"Either way, I didn't like the sound of it," said Fred frowning.
"What are we doing to celebrate?" asked Astoria lightly, switching their conversation away from curses.
"George and I are about to pop off to Hogsmeade to procure proper party supplies," said Fred with a wink. "Want to act as look out?"
"We may need help carrying things up to the tower too. Especially if we don't want to be completely obvious about it," added Fred. "You'd make such a cute henchman."
Astoria followed them off to the third floor where Fred and George both paused before a statue of a humpbacked witch and looked conspicuously about in both directions.
"Right," said Fred, withdrawing his wand. "You stay here, and George and I will be back in about twenty minutes."
"Thirty five tops," added George reassuringly. "When you hear us knocking, knock back to let us know the coast is clear."
Astoria didn't even had time to ask what they would be knocking on before Fred tapped his wand three times near the old crone's back and whispered, "Dissendium."
All of a sudden, before Astoria's startled eyes, the hump opened to reveal a neat, circular tunnel that a person could drop through into a wide, earthy passage below.
"Remember," said Fred, hoisting himself up and then leaping down into the shadowy dirt tunnel, "knock back so we know it's safe to come out."
Astoria nodded mutely, shocked that there had been a route into Hogsmeade concealed in the third floor corridor under her nose for so long without her knowing about it. Sneaking into Hogsmeade was more simple then she had imagined.
George dropped down after his brother and the witch's hump closed with a gravely, crunching hiccup.
Once the shock had begun to wear off, Astoria realized that she now had nothing to do but sit and wait for a half of an hour alone. There was a window several feet away between two suits of archaic armor. Astoria allowed herself to wander just far enough to gaze out of it, certain she would still be able to hear if Fred or George tried to send any signals through the stone witch's back.
The threat of storm had burned off to reveal a brilliant afternoon. Giddy sunshine streamed down from directly overhead and the castle cast only the shortest of shadows across the frosty grass. Wind blew choppy waves against the shore, making the lake appear cold and inhospitable despite the radiant shafts of sunlight.
All of a sudden, somebody was approaching quickly down the hallway behind her. Astoria pulled back just enough to catch the reflection of Draco Malfoy's surly, tense face in the glass as he rounded the corner. He stopped dead when he saw her. Astoria turned around, uncomfortably aware that Draco was the last person she wanted in the corridor when Fred and George began pounding on the other side of the stone witch.
"What are you doing here?" Draco demanded roughly. "Shouldn't you be off drinking butterbeers with your red-headed pals and doing victory laps around your tower somewhere?"
Astoria blinked, stunned by his very ill timing. Draco's common room was several floors below and she could think of no reason whatsoever that he should be on the third floor at all, unless perhaps he was taking the long route back from the owlery to avoid his teammates for as long as possible.
"Bad mood, is it?" asked Astoria distractedly, wanting more than anything to move Draco along before it was within his power to have Fred and George expelled. "At least you still have all of your bones."
Draco seemed confused by this. "And why wouldn't I have all of my bones?" he demanded scathingly.
"No reason," snapped Astoria shortly, turning back toward the window, hoping it would discourage him from making further conversation. She could still see his reflection in the glass, however, standing right behind her; rigid and angry.
"How much money did you make off of Potter's little victory?" asked Draco bitterly. "If you can even call it a victory. The whole match should have been called off because of that illegal bludger!"
"The bludger was following Harry, not you," Astoria pointed out dryly.
"So?" Draco demanded, instigated to even greater heights of anger despite the caress of something almost pleading in his tone. "It was still tampered with. I couldn't get anywhere near Potter or the snitch without it hitting me as well!"
This was patently not true, as Astoria had it on very good regard from Fred and George that the snitch had been hovering near Draco's head when Harry had caught it. But Astoria backtracked anyway, knowing she only had minutes before the twins would try to return.
"You still flew well. You'll probably be on the team until you graduate," argued Astoria. "You can just play him again next year. Harry's won every match that he's competed in. It's not like you did something anyone else on your team hasn't already done before by losing to him."
"Tell that to your new friend Marcus Flint," sneered Malfoy resentfully. "You should have heard the way he was talking to me! You'd think I threw the match! I don't suppose he remembers that it's only because of my family that his whole team is on new brooms!"
Astoria did not know how she had become Malfoy's venting piece, but it appeared to have happened in the blink of an eye. A quick glance at her watch confirmed that nearly twenty minutes had already elapsed since the twins had gone down into the tunnel. She was nearly out of time already.
"Where is Flint, anyway?" she began awkwardly, searching for a reason to vacate the corridor as quickly as possible.
"I don't know," Malfoy scowled. "Down near the lake with his beaters, drinking and forgetting that I'm the entire reason his team has any advantage at all?"
"Well," said Astoria, trying hard not to look at the witch or her hump, "I'd like a word with him, so if you know where he is, you should take me there. Now."
"What do you want with Flint?" snapped Malfoy sharply.
"I owe him money," hissed Astoria, grasping at straws. A real panic was beginning to make her sweat underneath the thick sweater she had worn to watch the game.
"He didn't bet Gryffindor would win?" demanded Malfoy, disgusted.
"No," said Astoria. Her gaze flicked involuntarily toward the statue, prompting her to give away a secret in order to get Draco to move. "Look, I told him I would give him a percentage of the winnings in exchange for letting me watch his practice."
Malfoy let out a nasal sound of irritation, torn between annoyance and sudden vindication at the news of Flint's confirmed crookedness.
"So he took money to let you watch his practice?" asked Malfoy intently. "You bribed him?"
"Obviously," Astoria growled, beginning to inch toward the the stairway. To her extreme pleasure, Malfoy followed her, not thinking about what he was doing.
"You said you knew where he was," Astoria continued. "Unless you're afraid to face him?"
But the question of whether or not Draco would have brought her to Marcus Flint in order to preserve his own dignity was rendered irrelevant when suddenly, Marcus Flint came striding down the hall with Montague.
Montague looked like he had seen the wrong side of a bottle of fire whiskey because he was lurching slightly and something about his gaze struck Astoria as glassy.
"Oh look, it's our seeker," said Flint calmly, catching sight of them. He smiled coldly at Malfoy.
"Flint," said Malfoy, moving sideways because Montague was swaying and looked liable to catch on a suit of armor. "What's wrong with him?"
"The rogue bludger must have brained him about a hundred times before he could get it locked up," explained Flint with a shrug. "I think he's concussed. What are you doing here Greengrass?"
Flint's eye's strayed from Draco to Astoria perceptively.
"Looking for you," said Astoria, avoiding the nightmarishly rapid passing of time on her watch as she ripped a piece of blank parchment out of her notebook.
"Looking for me?" repeated Flint slowly, raising his eyebrows at Draco in a taunting way, as though he found her phrasing amusing. "You've got a figure for me, then?"
Draco scowled, hating the look Flint had just given him.
Astoria propped the notebook against the stone witch, quickly divided how much she and the twins had won by ten, scrawled Flint's bribe onto the scrap of paper and handed it to Marcus.
Draco dithered, his eyes darting off down the corridor, wanting very badly to slink away but oddly hesitant to leave Astoria and Marcus alone together. Perhaps he thought they might strike new secretive deals and he wanted to be present in case they did?
"I thought we agreed on ten percent?" said Marcus, smirking. "What is this?"
"That's ten percent," Astoria insisted irritably. Either Fred and George had gotten caught in Hogsmeade or else they could hear the entire conversation taking place above their heads and had decided to remain silent, because they were very late, indeed.
"And here I thought you were handing out bonuses," leered Flint greedily. "You've got a lucrative little business going on there."
Draco craned his head nosily, trying to see what Astoria had written on the piece of paper. Flint folded it up with a cruel little laugh the moment he saw Malfoy trying to have a look.
"You ought to open a betting pool on who the Heir of Slytherin will knock off first," Flint went on. "I might actually put money on that."
"Ill send Fred and George around to pay you later in the week," said Astoria, ignoring his comment about the Heir.
"Works for me," agreed Flint, still leering. "You coming with us, Draco? Thought we would have a look at lunch. If Montague can make it down the stairs, that is."
It was obvious from the look on Draco's face that he did not want to go anywhere with Flint. But, whether because Marcus was still his captain or because he could not think of any valid reason for lingering in a corridor with Astoria, Draco resentfully followed them down the staircase. Astoria heaved a sigh of relief and turned back toward the statue, which remained innocently immobile.
She tried tapping on the hump a few times to signal that the half of the Slytherin quidditch team that had popped up out of nowhere was gone but the hump remained solid. Nearly twenty minutes later, when the twins finally did knock, Astoria let them out resentfully and, out of nerves, scolded them for their lateness.
0o0
I'm afraid this was a bit of a boring chapter but there's a lot in here that I'll need for some of the upcoming plot, so I hope you'll all forgive me! The next chapter will be rife with interesting bits, I promise.
In other news, I'm starting to worry about chapter size. I've realized that I have a tendency to try to cram a lot of text into a single chapter (I just get so excited that I don't want to save anything for later) but that may not be the easiest way to read them. Would anyone prefer if I took chapters of this size and broke them down into smaller segments? It occurs to me that reading a chapter in one quick sitting might be easier that way.
Either way, let me know what you think and thanks for reading!