Chapter Nine
Attack
0o0
Sunday morning dawned brightly, bringing with it a haze of chaos.
Apparently Professor Flitwick had announced to his entire common room full of Ravenclaws the evening before that there had been another attack, this time on a student. Astoria knew this because the news had then quickly spread from house to house. By the time she reached the entrance hall on her way to lunch, gaggles of students were hanging about and whispering in low, nervous voices, passing on information that was already fearfully altered from its original state.
"Of course," Draco Malfoy drawled contentedly from a set of benches along the wall, "the first attack would be on a Gryffindor. No surprises there."
Draco's regular circle of hangers-on had been augmented slightly by Pansy and her group of Slytherin girls, but Draco still spotted Astoria across the hall when she paused near the marble staircase to listen. When Draco spoke again, his voice seemed to raise a few octaves in an attempt to entice her into joining them.
"Although, I suppose it's Creevey's own fault for telling everyone that his dad is a muggle milk man. Can you even imagine telling people something like that on purpose?"
"It was Colin, then?" asked Astoria, slipping in between Flora and Daphne, her curiosity winning out over her natural aversion.
Daphne was looking rather queasy so Astoria subconsciously reached toward her sister. For the first time that Astoria could remember, however, instead of leaning in, Daphne pulled away.
"Its not as though Colin can help what his dad does for a living," she added tensely, wondering at Daphne's unwillingness to be touched in front of her friends.
"I suppose if my father was a muggle milk man, I probably wouldn't be going out of my way to brag about it. What with Slytherin's Heir on the loose and all," returned Malfoy, causing Pansy Parkinson to snort ungracefully. "Then again, I don't think I'd tell anyone even if there wasn't a monster running around the school, come to think of it..."
Crabbe and Goyle both guffawed sycophantically but Astoria ignored them as she always did.
"What's the school doing about it?" Astoria asked. "The staff can't just let a monster pick off muggle-borns."
"More's the pity," muttered Blaise Zabini, who was lurking against the wall.
"They've called a meeting of the School Governors," answered Draco lazily. By the looks on the surrounding faces, Astoria could tell that he had been saving this particularly juicy bit of gossip for last.
"Ooh, how do you know?" asked Pansy immediately, her mouth falling open in an expression of shocked fascination.
"Because my father is one of the governors, isn't he?" Malfoy went on unhurriedly, luxuriating in his rapt audience. "He says they'll be meeting with Dumbledore before noon. Dumbledore is expecting an earful any minute now."
Draco peered at Astoria sneakily, perhaps wondering if she was intrigued by this news.
"What's going on?" asked Theodore, who had just come up from the dungeons. He blinked sleepily.
"That first year Gryffindor with the camera was attacked last night," said Astoria matter-of-factly, not wanting to make the tale seem any more sensational than it already was.
"And the school governors are coming to meet with Dumbledore!" Pansy rushed to add, casting Astoria an oddly competitive look.
"The boy that's always following Potter around?" asked Theo, finding a bit of yesterday's lint on his shirt and frowning. "He was attacked? Did he die?"
Everyone turned to look at Malfoy, who promptly turned his gaze toward the high windows instead. Outside, a group of adults were congregating at the foot of the hill.
"What?" asked Draco distractedly. "Oh, no. He was petrified like the cat." Draco pointed out toward the grounds. "There are the governors now."
Astoria gasped. Even from a distance, she could make out the sleek blonde head of Lucius Malfoy, but this was not what had made her recoil. Hissing in horror, Astoria took a step back from the glass.
"Isn't that your aunt, Astoria?" asked Theo curiously, following her gaze.
"Yes," Astoria croaked, but that was not the worst of it.
"Who is that behind her?" Theo murmured, cracking into a wide grin as he took in the sight of a woman in a mustard yellow sun hat.
"That's my mom!" remarked Daphne, nearly as stunned as Astoria was, although clearly less disgusted.
"I didn't know your aunt was a governor," said Draco, sounding a little annoyed by the idea that he might not be the only authority on school politics.
"She's not," Astoria muttered angrily. "I can't imagine what she's doing here unless she thought it was a fun way to get out of the house."
"How do you know Astoria's aunt?" Pansy asked Draco quickly, displeasure etched into every feature of her face.
"What the hell is your mother wearing, Daphne?" drawled Blaise, giving voice to what he deemed to be the most pressing matter at hand.
For a moment nobody answered, perhaps because there was no ready answer available. They all stared together, transfixed by the radiant brightness that was Beatrice Greengrass's day suit while the small party continued their way up toward the castle. At last, Draco broke the silence with a low, positively delighted laugh.
"That's your stepmother, Astoria?" he drawled, his eyes almost watering with glee.
"Well, father's never been accused of having very sane taste in women," Astoria admitted, unable to look away, the mustard sheen of Beatrice's bosom robbing her of any capacity to be insulted. "No offense, Daphne."
"I don't see what's so wrong with it," argued Daphne defensively. "It's just rather yellow..."
'Rather yellow' was quite an understatement, however. Astoria was afraid her eyes might begin to water like Draco's—not from mirth, but from the glare.
"Alright, children!" called Professor Flitwick, hobbling out of the great hall. He must have some idea about what was taking place because he did not even bother to check what it was that they were all looking at outside the window. "No loitering, off with you! It's a fine sunday, you should be studying."
"Sir, my father is on the lawn," drawled Draco insolently.
"Yes, well," sighed Professor Flitwick, "would everybody without the convenience of having a relative on the lawn move along, please? This is not a public spectacle! It is a matter of grave importance. Up, up!" He shooed Blaise away from the wall. The pack began to disperse but Astoria held her ground. "Off with you, girl," said Flitwick tersely.
"If you don't mind," started Astoria, rather more politely than Malfoy had, "I've got an aunt and a stepmother outside. They both seem intent on making spectacles of themselves."
Flitwick 'humphed' but the hall had largely cleared so he waved his hands and stalked off to meet the approaching party at the front doors. Pansy cast Astoria a dark look and followed her friend Flora but Theo remained by Astoria's side, still yawning.
"Better move along before Flitwick comes back," Astoria warned but Theo shrugged.
"My dad's a governor," he said simply. "He let you, Daphne and Malfoy stay."
"My God, that dress doesn't get any less yellow even out of the sun," Malfoy whispered.
There was a hold up at the doors, but after a brief moment of chaos, Flitwick ushered the majority of the pack away to follow him up the marble staircase. He left behind Daphne's mother and Amos Diggory, who was bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet impatiently.
Those who had been permitted entrance—presumably the actual school governors plus Belladonna and a small, mousy looking woman in tears—passed close by them. Astoria almost had to marvel at her aunt's audacity. As if sensing this rare emotion, Belladonna made a small gesture in Astoria's direction that clearly demanded that she wait.
"How does your aunt do it?" asked Theo with a caress of awe.
"I don't know," Astoria deadpanned. "Maybe she threatened to marry Flitwick."
"Ha!" laughed Theo, finding this comment much more witty than it really was. "Do your aunt and stepmother get along?"
"Like cats and dogs," Astoria grumbled.
"Let me guess," said Malfoy slyly "your aunt is the cat?"
Daphne blushed.
"Daphne!" exclaimed Beatrice, spotting her daughter and making her way across the hall in excitement. "Darling, you're safe!" Beatrice seized Daphne in a dramatic hug that looked capable of stealing the breath from any human being. Astoria flinched reflexively.
"I'm fine, mum," Daphne muttered, attempting to extract herself. "There's nothing to worry about!"
"Nothing to worry about?" spluttered Beatrice, putting her natural flair for theatrics to good use. "They say students at the school are being attacked!"
"Yes," Astoria cut in flatly, eager to help her sister escape a suffocating humiliation, "but whoever it is is only attacking muggle-borns."
"Muggle-borns?" asked Beatrice rather idiotically, making it sound as though she had never heard the phrase before.
"Right," continued Astoria impatiently, "as in not pure-bloods which, happily, Daphne and I both are. What are you doing here?"
"Astoria, you've grown a foot!" observed Beatrice, close to spluttering. "I don't think I've seen you since last June! Just think, you're only a few months older than Daphne and I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'd peg you for sixteen! My goodness!" Beatrice stepped back a few inches to look at Astoria, releasing Daphne, who promptly inched away. "I'm starting to see a bit of your mother in you..."
Astoria blinked, wishing the earth would swallow Beatrice up, mustard hat and all.
"Your terrible aunt is here, you know!" Beatrice went on, fanning herself in a manner that seemed to suggest the very notion of Belladonna gave her a hot flash. "Such a pushy woman! It's a wonder she's had so many husbands! I don't know how she managed it! But there she is now, coming this way!"
Beatrice pawed for Daphne, flustered. "Come with me sweetheart! We'll take a walk and you can explain this whole mystery to me! I simply cannot stand another encounter with that woman!"
Like the curtain dropping on one stage, Beatrice pulled Daphne after her toward the doors just in time to allow a new act to commence when Belladonna's patent leather pumps stepped down from the marble steps with a prim click and made their way purposefully toward the spot that had been vacated.
"Odious woman," drawled Belladonna, following Beatrice's flight with fluttering, amused eyes. "Never dress in colors, Astoria. Make a note for yourself."
"What are you doing here, auntie?" Astoria demanded, becoming a little exasperated herself. "If you're going to be so nosey, why don't you just join the board?"
"Goodness, who could ever find time for that?" inquired Belladonna cooly, withdrawing a silver cigarette case from the pocket of her dark, well tailored robes. "After all, my only motive is to inquire after the health and well-being of my niece. Surely there can be nothing so very suspicious about that?"
"Yes, if that were your only motive," agreed Astoria sharply, "and I'm positive you're not allowed to smoke in here."
"Gracious, darling and you profess to be a rebel!" cackled Belladonna, exhaling elegantly toward the rafters. "Who do you propose is coming to stop me? Not Dumbledore, surely? I've heard he's under siege."
Theo let out a sound between a laugh and an exclamation before sucking in his breath. His eyes remained fixed on Belladonna, shining with admiration. Astoria bristled at the sight.
"Tom," acknowledged Belladonna with a soft tilt of her head, having grown accustomed to Theodore's face in their house over the summer.
"Theodore!" Astoria corrected with a hiss.
"And Draco, was it?" Belladonna continued, switching subjects.
Draco nodded, his usual sneer held at bay by the cold vision of Belladonna smoking in the entrance hall and staring at him expectantly.
Belladonna clicked her tongue and looked about. "Nary a Weasley in sight. Could it be that your sensitivities are improving, Astoria?"
"Yeah," Astoria fired back, hating the look on Theodore's face, "I'm guessing they were too busy having tea with muggles to be here for your surprise attack."
"Obviously not, then," plowed on Belladonna indifferently. "So tell me the truth of it, there have been attacks? One on a student and another on a teacher?"
"Technically it was an attack on a teacher's cat," said Theo, anxious to participate despite the fact that his name had been bungled. Astoria had never quite understood Theo's fascination with Belladonna, and the fact that she herself held Theo in such low esteem made his admiration all the more contemptible.
"It was Flich's cat," interrupted Malfoy, sneering at Theodore. "He's the caretaker, not a teacher."
"And also a known squib," Belladonna added curtly. "Who was the student?"
Astoria could tell by the looks of wonder on both Theodore and Draco's faces that, while Filch's being a squib may have been known to some, it had not been known to either of them.
"His name's Colin Creevey," said Astoria, "and as Draco was so keen to point out earlier, his dad's a muggle milk man."
"Interesting," mused Belladonna and she appeared to mean it.
"What does a muggle milk man do, one might wonder?" asked Theo in his most annoyingly pensive voice.
"One might, if one had literally exhausted every other topic on Earth," finished Belladonna so condescendingly that Astoria almost felt bad for Theodore. Out of the corner of her eye, Draco had begun smirking gleefully.
"There was also the matter of some kind of vandalism?" her aunt went on, "claiming that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened? I've heard it was written with blood?"
"For someone so fond of secrets Belladonna," came a cold, silky voice, "its a wonder that you aren't rejoicing at the news of a Chamber that promises to be full of them."
They all turned as Lucius Malfoy descended into sight, followed by the rotund, always be-furred, Augusta Longbottom. Astoria almost moaned in despair. Augusta Longbottom was infamously cranky and she was bound to bring out the worst in everybody present. The last thing she needed was for her aunt to play nice to Lucius Malfoy in front of an audience. Astoria could neither blink nor look away as her body flooded with shame.
Theodore looked as though he had been handed second helpings of a particularly succulent pudding, however, and even Draco failed to look disinterested as he turned his curious gaze toward his father.
"Smoking in the hall, I see," observed Lucius lightly, his tone bringing to mind the chastising of a naughty child. "What a fine example you cut."
"See here Malfoy, there's no need to make light of things! Not while we have this situation with the Chamber on our hands," barked Augusta Longbottom boorishly, puffing up her chest. "In my day we could smoke any which way we pleased. If you're so fine and dignified, you can just continue out onto the lawn to greet the minister like you originally meant to. There's plenty of clean air out there."
With that, Augusta barreled her way past them and continued her tottering trek toward the doors, her handbag slipping down to her elbow before she pulled it up again violently.
"You know," said Belladonna idly, taking a slow, lazy drag off of her cigarette, "there are some that say Augusta is over-assertive, but I've always found her to be quite dear."
Astoria blinked in surprise because she had not expected this. Her aunt had an uncanny—at times even nauseating—way of sucking up to people she deemed rich or influential enough to be important. It was not typically her habit to mock these sort of people within earshot until after she had either gotten what she wanted from them or failed greatly in her pursuit.
"Far be it from me to disrupt your interrogating children, but it seems to me that the duty of discussing the Chamber of Secrets lies with the Board of Governors, of which you are not a member," said Lucius unaffectedly. "Although, I know how close to your heart the issue must strike. Your second husband was once married to a muggle-born, was he not? Or was it your third? I lose track."
"Oh, you must mean Alfred," cried Belladonna brightly. "You're quite right, he was my second and how is your lovely wife?"
"Living," quirked Lucius with a nasty smile, "thank you."
"It's funny that you should mention people who have married muggle-borns," mused Belladonna and Astoria could sense the dart before her aunt even threw it, "didn't your wife's sister do the same. Andromeda, yes? You know, I think I remember a time when you fancied Andromeda quite as pretty as her sister but perhaps my memory fails me."
Lucius's smile never vanished but Astoria could tell by the way that way it suddenly became glacial that her aunt had struck home and that Lucius was annoyed. "I hardly think that an errant comment on looks some twenty years previously even bears remembering, Belladonna."
Theodore had frozen, watching this tennis match of unpleasantness in a state of shock. Draco meanwhile had turned faintly pink and looked unsure of himself, certain that his family was being insulted, but having a hard time responding in a way that anything other than riveted.
"I do admire you so, for your selective view of history, Lucius," cooed Belladonna, "but as they say, when one door closes, another pure-blooded marriage opportunity appears. I suppose it's all water under the bridge for you."
"As the cemetery in your backyard suggests," said Lucius tartly, "you would know."
"Oh I'd call it more of a family plot, really," said Belladonna modestly.
"Perhaps if you had set the bar higher in your choice of husbands, you have could afforded to do a little more for their interment," Lucius indicated snidely. "Your last was a banker, wasn't he?"
"Ah!" laughed Belladonna, who rarely encountered an argument in which she was not the superior in punishing sarcasm and who seemed to be taking to this one in rare form. "Just think, if I had only set my designs on you when you were uncertain as to which Black sister you preferred, the whole burial plot might have been reduced to a single headstone!"
"Perhaps it would not have been mine," suggested Lucius dangerously.
"Oh, no. I'd have lost you, sure enough," continued Belladonna in a voice that would have been hilarious had the context of the conversation not been so inappropriate. "To a pox, I think," she mused slowly, clearly relishing the idea, "something that riddles the body from the inside out."
The sound of a set of boots being wiped clean on the top step outside the front doors made everyone turn their heads.
"Yes, that'll be Fudge. Late, I see," said Lucius, checking his pocket watch. "I'll alert the board."
"Good," agreed Belladonna, blowing the last of her cigarette smoke in a direction that was far to close to Mr. Malfoy's face to be entirely accidental. "Perhaps I'll run into the Minister on my way out. I wanted a word. Astoria darling," she said, stroking Astoria's hair distractedly, "behave." She nodded curtly at Draco's father. "Lucius."
Then she was off, her heels pinging lethally in the direction of Augusta and the Minister. When she reached the door, Astoria could have sworn she heard Belladonna chuckle. Lucius Malfoy shot his son a look that commanded him stay before turning on his heel and striding back up the steps, leaving Astoria, Draco and Theo in his stunned, silent wake.
"Did your aunt just threaten to murder my father?" asked Draco haltingly.
"She's been known to do that," sneered Astoria darkly. "Frankly, it's more terrifying when she tries to be charming."
"That woman just served up more sass than Draco's father has seen in about ten years," hooted Theo, letting out a low whistle. "You never see people go toe to toe with Lucius!"
"My aunt has never been afraid to go toe to toe with anyone," Astoria muttered.
"I think she's brilliant!" said Theo expansively. "Does she always go around talking to people like that?"
"Pretty much," Astoria sighed. "Although she saves her best bickering for when she senses an equal match. Listening to her try to bully shopkeepers is generally pretty boring in comparison, although occasionally she'll find a live one."
"So it's like her sport?" asked Theo.
"Something like that" Astoria murmured unhappily. "To be fair, Draco's dad did insinuate that her husbands were nearly middle class. Who knows, Draco? Maybe your dad will off my aunt and I'll be free to wear whatever I want without criticism before I come of age!"
Even though Astoria had meant it as a joke, Draco looked a little disconcerted by this notion.
"That would never happen," Draco sneered. Then, as if remembering that his family had been insulted, he added, "but your aunt really should learn to watch her mouth."
0o0
December found the castle as cold in spirit as the chilly, wind swept grounds. The atmosphere of well-being and anticipation before a holiday was dampened by fear. Decorations went up, as they always did, in the second week of the month but it wasn't until Astoria awoke one Tuesday morning to a soft blanket of snow that she began to feel the first true stirrings of Christmas cheer.
The fire was nothing more then a few glowing embers; Astoria could tell by the earliness of the hour and the cold sting of her nose. Beneath her covers, however, she was the good kind of dry. The type of toasty-warm that occasionally made waking up feel leisurely.
Snow was pilling up in the tower windowsills, creating the illusion that everything was soft and muted, as though the volume of the world had been turned down. Astoria stretched and allowed herself the pleasure of staring at the collecting flakes, safe in the knowledge that she had woken up earlier than she needed to and therefore had no obligation to rush out of bed anywhere.
A few feet away, her housemates seemed to be doing the same thing in their own beds. Lavender's long hair was piled on top of her head and rogue curls were escaping in all directions, but she seemed to feel the same cheer in the air. "Look," she murmured happily. "It snowed."
"I bet Hagrid's not pleased," Astoria grinned, rolling over and resting her head on her arm. "He's putting up the Christmas trees in the hall today. Filch will have a fit about the mess."
Already, before breakfast or classes could interfere, it felt as though vacation had prematurely begun.
"I wish I didn't have to go home this weekend," Lavender sighed sleepily, "but my mum is making me."
"You'll have fun," said Astoria bracingly despite the fact that she really didn't know anything about Lavender's family at all. Lavender and Parvati had formed such an intense friendship in their first year that there was hardly any room for an extra voice between them these days.
Astoria herself was going home for Christmas, not to Belladonna's, but to her father's house which meant that she would be able to spend the holiday with Daphne.
"I guess," said Lavender, "but they're bound to ask me all about the Chamber. I'm afraid I'll scare them by accident and they won't let me come back."
"That won't happen," said Astoria, pushing off her blankets because Lavender's semi-irrational fear was starting to make her nervous as well. "You're a pure-blood, right? They won't keep you home."
"They might," said Lavender, watching as Astoria began to fish about for tights. "I thought about it all last night. My parents were activists against You Know Who during the last war. What if they get so mad about the fact that the Heir of Slytherin hasn't been caught that they make me stay home or send me to Beauxbatons in protest?"
Astoria snorted and ran a brush through her hair. "It costs a lot of money to go abroad to a non-native school. They won't ship you off."
For a second, Lavender looked very relived. "Oh, yeah..."
"You'll be back," Astoria insisted, but the idea of somehow being withheld from returning to Hogwarts chased her all the way to breakfast.
Professor Mcgonagall was already going around with her list, collecting the names of students who wished to stay at Hogwarts over break. Fred and George both added their names to the bottom of the piece of parchment and Astoria experienced a new and unexpected pang of jealousy.
"Mum and Dad are visiting Charlie," Fred explained when he caught Astoria watching him pass the list to George, misinterpreting her look of longing for one of pity. "It's not bad, really, staying at school. Almost no one ever does, so we usually get the common room to ourselves. The feast is always top notch."
A few feet away, Hagrid was wrestling a giant fir tree into a stand, scattering needles and snow all over the flagstones. Professor Flitwick trailed behind him, oscillating between cleaning up and conjuring streams of silver garland with his wand.
"I almost wish I was staying," Astoria admitted wistfully. "My aunt is visiting old friends in Belgium, so I'll be home at my Dad's house."
"No, you won't," said Daphne, who had crossed the Great Hall and was clutching a note in her hand nervously. Daphne did not like the Gryffindor table and made a habit of avoiding it when she could, but she handed Astoria the letter anyway, leaning in against Astoria's shoulders.
"What's this?" asked Astoria, hardly daring to hope.
"It's a letter from Dad," said Daphne. "Dad got that patent case he wanted."
"The one about MacLaggen's potions or whatever it was?" asked Astoria, remembering that Daphne had mentioned the case in passing towards the end of the summer.
"Yes," said Daphne. "So he and my Mum are going to be staying in London and Dad says he thinks they'll be too busy to be any fun for us."
"Why is Beatrice going at all?" Astoria snorted, skimming over the note.
"They're married, aren't they?" insisted Daphne almost hotly. It was obvious that her sister found this arrangement to be the most natural thing in the word, but Astoria could not help but think about the pictures she had seen of Mr. MacLaggen's wife, who was very attractive and was often talked about as having a bit of a wild streak. In truth, there was a terrible part of Astoria that wondered if Beatrice was only going to London to safeguard her marriage, but she did not voice this suspicion out-loud.
"Anyway," Daphne went on, "I thought I would tell you before you lost your chance to sign the list. I didn't want you to have to go find Professor Mcgonagall."
"Thanks," said Astoria, taking the sign up sheet from George, who was beaming enthusiastically.
"This is brilliant! We can start work on those invisibility cloaks once everyone's gone!" he said, rubbing his hands together.
Astoria carefully added her name to the bottom of a very short list and grinned. Daphne took her letter back, relived that Astoria had not taken the news badly, and quickly retreated back to her table.
"Have you seen the notices this morning?" asked Fred, upending a bottle of ketchup onto his sausage patties.
Astoria shook her head. A soft happiness about her new holiday prospects was creeping into her chest like a good mood. She had never spent a Christmas at Hogwarts and she was surprised to find how much the idea pleased her.
"They're starting up a dueling club and the first meeting is tonight," George explained.
"I reckon George and Lee and I are all going to go. Do you want to come along?" asked Fred. "One last hurrah before the holidays and we're all alone and joyless?"
Astoria smiled happily, forked one of Fred's saturated sausages and agreed.
Despite the heavy snow, Herbology had not been cancelled, so after breakfast Astoria trooped off to a very cold double period in the greenhouses. Her mood was so lifted, however, that the chill could not do much to bring her down.
Snow continued to fall thickly, visible through the glass roof. Professor Sprout, alive to the new importance behind the success of her crop of mandrakes had a more simple yet seasonally appropriate assignment for them; they collecting white berries from heads of mistletoe to restock Professor Snape's ingredient cabinets.
"Thinking of going to the dueling club later?" asked Ernie jauntily, casting an open handful of berries into the bucket that Astoria was sharing with him.
Ernie could occasionally be rather pompous but today, he was a perfect fit for Astoria's merry mood.
"Mhmm," confirmed Astoria. "Do you know who's teaching it yet?"
Ernie shook his head and withdrew his set of clippers. He had struck too close to the Mistletoe's branches in search of berries, causing their shared bush to shake nervously.
"No idea, but Justin seems to think it'll be Lockhart," continued Ernie. "He's a muggle-born you know, so he's very impressed by Lockhart's books. He thinks being a wizard means all sorts of adventures and battling famous beasts."
They shared a smile that seemed to agree to some suspicion behind Lockhart's fantastic exploits.
"Well, I don't know about Lockhart, but learning how to duel seems useful," Astoria continued conversationally, coaxing the plant back toward them.
"Especially with Slytherin's Heir on the loose," agreed Ernie. "I think it's good that the school is at least willing to teach us some self defense."
Astoria had not thought of it that way, but now that he mentioned it, it seemed as reasonable a theory as any.
"Come on, plant!" Ernie complained, grabbing at the mistletoe's trunk.
"Careful, Macmillan!" called out Professor Sprout with a rather amused smile. "Once you get trapped underneath the mistletoe, there's only one way out."
Ernie glanced at Astoria sheepishly and released the plant, which proceeded to pluck up its lower boughs like the train of a skirt and run on its root-legs down the length of their table in terror.
It was still snowing thickly when class got out. The courtyard looked like a painting on a Christmas card. Astoria passed Neville on her way to the benches, noticing that he had snow in his hair and down the front of his scarf.
"Watch out!" Neville called to her nervously. "Someone is throwing snowballs!"
Theodore was sitting on a bench as far away from any flying snow as possible, reading a damp book. Astoria took off her own scarf and handed it to Neville almost kindly before trudging trough the snow toward Theo.
"You look like the Grinch," exclaimed Astoria happily, wiping snow off of Theo's old gray hat. "Why are you lurking in the corner when it's so nice out?"
"You call this nice?" asked Theo in confusion, looking about at the winter wonderland that surrounded him with dull, suspicious eyes.
"Yes," Astoria gigged. Several feet away, Fred and George were trying to entice a cluster of first years into buying large, smelly looking onions.
"For protection," George insisted in a carrying voice, "because the Heir of Slytherin walks among us!"
"Guaranteed to ward off monsters!" Fred agreed, accepting several sickles from a small boy in overlarge robes. "A small price to pay for safety when the Heir could be your best friend in disguise!"
"What do you think the odds are that Slytherin's Heir is a Ravenclaw first year's best friend in disguise?" asked Theo sarcastically.
"Zero, I'd say," answered a snide voice, announcing the arrival of Draco, Crabbe and Goyle.
All three of them had very pink cheeks and there was a dusting of snow on Malfoy's gloves that made Astoria feel rather certain he was somewhat responsible for the throwing of snowballs.
"What are your plans for Christmas, Draco?" she asked, refusing to allow him to dampen her holiday spirit. "I suppose you probably aren't curling up with a large protective Weasley onion?"
"He's staying on," said Theo with a snicker.
"Mother and Father are going to France," drawled Draco, "and there's no reason that the pure-bloods should have to evacuate the school. Father doesn't see any reason I should have to go anywhere."
"So they're going on vacation without you?" Theo pointed out sarcastically. "Gee, it's almost as though your parents are using you to make a point, Malfoy."
Draco ignored this. "You'll be staying with your aunt again?" he asked, glancing at Astoria. "Millicent said you visited Theodore last year and his dad nearly attacked you."
"Since when do you talk to Millicent?" Theo stuttered, embarrassed. "My dad didn't attack Astoria. If you want to know the whole story, he ended up inviting her in for tea."
"You had tea with Mr. Nott?" drawled Draco, his face lighting up with malevolent glee. "Lord, that had to have been nearly worse!"
"It was lovely, actually," returned Astoria brightly. "Theodore's father taught me about the goblin uprisings. And no, I'm not going to my aunt's this year."
"You're not?" asked Theo, plainly disappointed.
"No," Astoria confirmed. "Aunt Belladonna's traveling and my father's in London working, so I'm staying at Hogwarts too. I just found out this morning."
"Hey, Astoria!" a voice called out across the courtyard. Astoria turned, surprised to see that Cormac MacLaggen was waving at her and walking their way.
"What does MacLaggen want with you?" asked Malfoy sharply.
"No idea," said Astoria truthfully. Even though they were only a year apart and in the same house, she had never actually spoken to Cormac before. It came as something of a shock that he even knew her name.
"Want to see something neat?" Cormac panted at last, giving Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle a once over of surprise as he wiped his nose. Then, without waiting for an answer, he produced a newspaper and unfolded it. "Look, our fathers were both in the paper this morning!"
Astoria leaned closer. Draco shoved Goyle's elbow out of the way so that he could have a look as well.
Below, a small article was captioned: 'Court Justice MacLaggen to Release Line Of Self Help Potions'. Beneath that was a black and white photo of Cormac's father in his dark plum (although you could not tell from the photo) wizengamot's robes with his arm around Astoria's father. Beside them waved Mrs. MacLaggen, plump and curly haired, smiling at the camera flirtatiously. Beatrice was not in the frame at all.
"Oh," Astoria exclaimed in surprise. "Neat."
"Yeah," said Cormac. "So you'll be at our Christmas party, then? Father's invited some of the senior cabinet for the celebration. I think even Rufus Scrimgeour will be there. You know, the head of the Auror Office? There's an open bar all night, it should be outrageous."
"No, actually," said Astoria, slightly taken aback although not altogether sorry to be missing out on a pompous London ministry party even if it was one that threatened to turn into a drunken highland fling. "I'm not going home for Christmas."
"Really?" reacted Cormac, surprised. "Well, that's rubbish. Write home and say you've changed your mind!"
"How can she have changed her mind if you're only just telling her about it now?" interjected Draco coldly, still sneering in the direction of the article.
Coming from a person that Astoria had never exchanged words with before, she thought MacLaggen's advice was rather bossy herself.
"It wasn't really my choice," Astoria explained. "My parents are busy."
"Well, ask permission anyway. Tell your dad I invited you. I'm sure he'll understand," Cormac insisted, handing her the newspaper like a formal corsage. "Here, you can keep this. Let me know if you're coming, I'll keep you on the list!"
Before Astoria could even make a sound of assent, Cormac was off again, jogging back toward his friends, who were lingering near the castle eaves.
"Okay then," said Astoria to the thin air that Cormac had just vacated. She thrust the paper at Theo, who had not been able to read it properly with Malfoy standing in front of him. "Well, that doubles my incentive not to go anywhere for Christmas."
Draco laughed but the sound came out like a bark.
"Your dad is working with MacLaggen?" asked Theo, reading the newsprint carefully.
"I guess," said Astoria. "Apparently Cormac thinks that makes us new best buddies. You know, I've never even talked to him before? He must have mistaken me for somebody who cares."
"Or for the best looking girl in the year with a dad who is bound to be going to his Christmas party," suggested Theo with a sly smile.
Malfoy's head snapped sideways to look at Astoria.
"Have you ever noticed that Cormac's face is perfectly square?" mused Astoria, wanting to shift the subject. "It's like a dictionary."
"When did MacLaggen say he thought that Astoria was the best looking girl in the year?" asked Draco irritably.
Theo continued to chortle into the newsprint, ignoring Draco. "His face is perfectly square? Is that a reason to turn down dates, these days?"
"That wasn't him asking me out on a date," said Astoria dismissively. "That was him commanding me to attend a boring ministry gathering with bottomless liquor."
"Sounds like my kind of event," said Theo, putting down the Daily Prophet. "I bet even Bertie Higgs will be there."
"You should go then," Astoria insisted, pointing at him with both hands in the shape of finger guns and imitating Cormac's voice, "I'm sure he'd put you on the list!"
Malfoy laughed snidely, his happiness restoring with every insult Astoria made. "Bertie Higgs? Father says he went to a charity event last year so pissed drunk that they had to kick him out because he started hitting on Fudge's wife. I'd say you're better off out of it." Draco stared off across the grounds toward Cormac and his knot of friends, scowling instinctively. "You know, I think you're right, MacLaggen's head is square."
Astoria laughed because the insult had been stupid and hearing it in Malfoy's voice only made it funnier.
"Still, it's good for your dad isn't it?" probed Theo. "It's a big case, he's bound to make money off of it."
"Probably," Astoria admitted. "I think he's just doing it to have a go at MacLaggen's wife."
"What?" drawled Malfoy.
"Yeah," Astoria continued carelessly, hoping that by giving voice to her own fears she might manage to purge herself of them completely. "Have a look at her, she's a minx."
Theo held the paper back up and brushed snow off of the photo. Mrs. MacLaggen continued to grin toothily, buxom as a bar wench.
"I suppose she is rather comely," said Theo with a half repressed grin.
"An apt choice of words," remarked Astoria lightly, holding in her own smug smile.
"I'll allow his secret crush," Theo went on reasonably.
"Speaking of secret crushes," said Astoria softly, her eyes following Padma Patil, who had appeared from behind the fountain and was crossing the courtyard with Marietta Edgecombe. "I think somebody is in the presence of theirs right now."
Theo blanched and, to her surprise, so did Malfoy.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco snapped. Then, his eyes followed Astoria's and he seemed to catch her meaning. "You fancy a Ravenclaw, Theodore?" he drawled gleefully.
"I do not have a crush on a Ravenclaw," said Theo, shifting on the bench irritably. "I don't know what Astoria's talking about."
"Of course not," said Astoria, who had forgotten herself and regretted her comment the moment she realized it had been uttered in front of Draco. "I'm just kidding."
She dared a glance at Theodore, who was staring at her hatefully.
"Padma seems nice enough though," Astoria went on, trying to dig herself out of the hole she had created, sensing that she was only tunneling deeper.
"Are you sure that's even her name?" asked Malfoy derisively. "Aren't there two of them?"
"They're twins," said Theodore shortly. "They're still two people."
"Padma's in Ravenclaw," Astoria confirmed, hoping to be clear that she also considered the Patils to be two unique individuals. "Parvati's in my house."
"What kind of names are those, anyway?" jeered Malfoy, scooping up a fistful of snow and working it into a small compact ball.
"You're one to talk," bristled Theo.
"My name is Latin," said Malfoy pompously, taking aim at the fountain and lobbing the ice-ball into the air. It landed with a dull crack on the frozen ice. Several people nearby looked around at the sound nervously. "It's not nearly as funny sounding as 'Padma'. Who are the Patil's people anyway? They're obviously not English."
"Mr. Patil is a Healer and I think he's from India," said Astoria, who had known Parvati and Padma when they were younger, although they had never been particularly great friends. Astoria was certain that Mr. Patil worked at St. Mungo's, however, and that he was quite well liked by his peers. She had met him a few times and remembered him as a short, well dressed man with a kind face.
"Oh," said Draco, who didn't seem to particularly care what Mr. Patil did if it wasn't foolish or shameful.
"Parvati is a little silly," Astoria admitted. "I used to know her fairly well when we were kids because she was always more outgoing. I don't know Padma as well."
"How did you know the Patils?" asked Theo, displaying interest despite himself.
"Oh, I don't know," said Astoria. "Random day classes and birthday parties, you know? Things like that. I think Mr. Patil must must know my dad somehow. We all went on a picnic once when I was about eight. Everyone went swimming except for Padma because she was afraid of the water." Astoria was quiet for a moment as she watched Theo's long, serious face process these unimportant details intently.
"Padma likes to read," Astoria added softly because Draco was making another snowball and she thought it was likely he was not paying proper attention, "and she likes birds. She used to have a pet canary when we were really little. I know she doesn't eat licorice either because her sister used to tease her with them."
Somewhere in the castle, the bell rang. Theo rolled up the newspaper and handed it to Astoria.
"I think this was for your perusing pleasure," he said with a half smile as Astoria took the copy of the Prophet from him.
Theo hesitated slightly and then said, very quietly, "She hates licorice, then?"
"Loathes it," Astoria confirmed, smiling softly to herself as she watched Theodore nod and lope away toward his next class.
0o0
That evening at eight o'clock, Astoria met Fred, George and Lee outside the portrait of the Fat Lady and they all headed down to the Great Hall together to see what Hogwarts had to offer by way of a dueling club.
The Great Hall was bustling with students of all ages when they arrived and the long House tables had been cleared away, leaving a wide space in the center of the hall for demonstrations. A raised platform had been erected in the middle and covered with a soft looking velvet that reminded Astoria of a fortuneteller's stage.
"Fancy," chuckled George. "I wonder if Lockhart had a hand in decorating?"
Lockhart had obviously had a more than a hand in just decorating however because next moment the crowd parted to let him through and he was climbing the stairs of the platform, his cloak billowing behind him.
"Welcome!" Lockhart beamed. "Welcome!"
Lee groaned and put his round face in his hands to hide his smile. He grinned through his fingers at Astoria.
"Of course," Astoria mouthed at him.
When Professor Lockhart introduced Snape as his assistant however, Lee dropped his hands in actual shock.
"We're about to witness murder," whispered Fred excitedly.
Indeed it looked as though they might. In fact, something about the way Snape's lip was curling seemed to promise it.
Astoria put her head closer to Fred and George so that they could whisper and only looked up again when Lockhart began to count.
"One— two— three—"
"Expelliarmus!" cried Snape, baring his full set of teeth in the dull candle light.
Lockhart was blasted into the air and flung from the stage. He smashed into the far wall face first. A few feet away, Malfoy began to applaud.
George bit his lip, suffocating his urge to laugh. Lockhart's hat had been shot clean off of his head. It landed near Alicia Spinnet, who held it up, motioning toward Fred with it from across the hall excitedly.
"A Disarming Charm!" cried Lockhart in a feeble imitation of pluckiness, but even from where Astoria was standing, she could see that his knees were shaking. "Very instructive," Lockhart muttered. "An obvious shot—very block-able, but instructive nonetheless!"
Snape made a soft bow. When he raised his head again his look was so poisonous that even Lockhart could not pretend to ignore it.
"Yes, well, everybody into pairs!" Lockhart yelled, clapping his hands.
Astoria looked toward Lee, assuming that Fred and George would want to duel each other but Snape, who was going down the line, pointed at Astoria instead.
"MacLaggen, you can duel Greengrass," said Snape, making a lazy motion toward Cormac. "Jordan, you can take on Pucey. Weasley and Weasley can partner Patil and Patil," Snape smiled unkindly, "a twin for a twin as it were…"
Snape moved on, partnering people off in the cruelest way his sharp mind could manage, pointing his long yellow finger in random directions and barking instructions.
Cormac moved forward to stand near Astoria, managing to look pleased about their chosen arrangement.
"It's almost unsporting to be dueling a girl, isn't it?" asked Cormac pompously. "I promise to go easy on you."
Astoria smiled back at him tightly.
"Face your partners and bow," called Lockhart, who had regained the stage. "Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast to disarm your opponents!"
Lockhart began to count and Astoria stiffened, feeling that she had something to prove. MacLaggen's easy, unworried face only served to egg her on.
"Three— Two— One!"
"Expelliarmus!" Astoria yelled.
Perhaps MacLaggen had been expecting Astoria to ask for help because he didn't even manage to raise his wand. Instead, Cormac yelped in surprise as his wand was yanked out of his hand and came to skittering to a halt several feet in front Astoria.
Behind Cormac, Harry was on his knees and Malfoy was laughing hysterically, compelled by magic. Theo had been hit in the face by a flying shoe, probably because he was staring so avidly at George Weasley, who was partnering Padma Patil.
"Finite Incantatem!" yelled Snape commandingly from somewhere in the middle of the panicking crowd. Malfoy stopped laughing and regained his feet. His hair was disheveled and he was glaring daggers at Harry.
"That was a lucky first try," said MacLaggen lightly, stooping to pick up his wand. "You got me before I was in position. Let's go again."
There was something a little bitter about he way he said this and Astoria guessed that he did appreciate losing to a female.
"Are you going to disarm me this time?" asked Astoria, smiling pleasantly.
"Yeah," said Cormac hesitantly, not quite daring to curse her.
"Expelliarmus!" said Astoria, this time with more confidence.
With a gratifying "Oof!" MacLaggen's wand zoomed sharply from between his fingers. Cormac himself was pushed back several steps, where he collided with Draco. Draco pushed Cormac away rouchly, forcing him to grab the stage to avoid falling.
"Hah!" laughed Cormac flatly in an attempt to save face, brushing velvet lint off the front of his shirt. "Little spitfire, isn't she?"
Malfoy shot him a look of such unexpected loathing that Cormac quickly gathered himself and limped back toward Astoria.
"Ok, my turn now," he muttered, rubbing the shoulder where Malfoy had pushed him.
"Does it hurt?" asked Astoria, trying very hard not to laugh.
"Hmm, I think I'd better teach you to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, surveying the damage around him. Cormac's shoulders relaxed, evidentially relived that he would not have to choose between cursing Astoria and being thrown across the room again. "How about a volunteer pair?" suggested Lockhart, motioning towards Justin and Neville.
Once again, Snape interfered and it was Harry and Draco who were obliged to climb up onto the stage. The crowd moved in curiously, some still able-bodied and others wincing or holding theirs heads at a tilt to staunch bloody noses.
Snape bent close to Draco in order to consult with him. Harry was stuck with Lockhart, who made several grandiose motions before dropping his wand by accident.
"Three— two—" Harry blanched, unsure of what he was supposed to be doing, "one!"
Harry raised his wand determinedly but Draco was faster. With a shout, Draco conjured a large, hostile looking snake as thick as a man's arm.
"Buh!" shivered Cormac, taking a huge step back as the snake fell onto the staging with a slap. He was not the only one who withdrew, either: Susan Bones tread heavily on Astoria's foot in an effort to push herself further away. Cormac shook his head. "I hate snakes..."
The snake reared back its lethal looking head, fangs poised before Justin Finch-Fletchley.
Snape seemed to decide that things had gone far enough because he sprung forward, but not fast enough. With a strange hissing sound, Harry crept closer to the snake, which went remarkably still.
Goosebumps ran up and down Astoria's arms as the giant serpent turned obediently toward Harry, hypnotized. Harry opened his mouth again and the same, otherworldly hissing sound came out of it. The snake slumped, the fight completely drained out of it. Harry looked up, grinning foolishly at Justin.
Justin was white as a sheet and trembling. He yelled something and then began to push his way through the crowd. Dark muttering went up along the hall. The snake had vanished but nobody seemed any more keen to approach the stage. Ron had taken hold of Harry's arm and was pulling him away from Snape, who for the first time all night, looked wary.
"What was that?" burst Cormac MacLaggen suspiciously.
"I don't know," said Astoria blankly, knowing that what she had just witnessed something very incriminating but not quite able to rearrange the details so that they applied to Harry.
Theodore was staring at Astoria grimly and motioning with his head. She broke away and followed Theodore out into the shadowy entrance hall. The murmuring pandemonium of the Great Hall was a dull thunder here but, without stopping, Theo stalked away toward the entrance to the dungeons. Several sets of armor turned to watch, their visors creaking rustily, sensing intriguing gossip.
"C'mon," Theo muttered, taking the dungeon steps three at a time.
The underground passage was darker but bare. There was no armor here and the sound of other voices had largely fallen away. The flames in the torch brackets guttered and spit as a draft ripped down the passageway.
"Potter's a parselmouth?" demanded Theodore accusingly.
"A what?" asked Astoria, fighting to recall this vaguely familiar word.
"He can talk to snakes!" said Theo, gesturing to the floor sharply as though there were snakes slithering beneath them as they spoke. "A parselmouth! Did all of you Gryffindors know about this?"
"No," Astoria denied hotly. "It's not like we all hold a conference about what we're going to hide from the rest of the school every semester. I had no idea Harry could talk to snakes. Even Ron looked surprised!"
"He should be, if he didn't know!" said Theo. "It's a rare and dark gift, snake language. You can't be taught it."
"You can't?" asked Astoria, slightly taken aback. She was beginning to recollect hearing the term 'parselmouth' once or twice before in old bedtime stories about frightening wizards who led little children out of their homes.
"No," said Theo. "You have to be born a parseltongue. There's only a handful of wizards who have ever claimed to be able to talk to snakes and proved it!"
"Anybody other than Herpo the Foul?" Astoria needled sarcastically, referencing the bedtime story she remembered best about a creepy man who had fed small children to his basilisk in ancient Greece.
"How about Salazar Slytherin?" suggested Theo pointedly. "That's what he was famous for. It's no coincidence that Slytherin house's symbol is a snake. Come on, Astoria, how do you not know this?"
Astoria's skin was beginning to crawl again because she did know this. Theo's words seemed to be bringing a lot of it back to her.
"You know what this means?" said Theo energetically.
"Maybe Harry's related to Slytherin really distantly?" suggested Astoria feebly. "The Potters are a pretty old, pure-blooded family."
"And what would that make Harry?" demanded Theo in a leading voice.
"Slytherins...descendant?" answered Astoria evasively.
"Descendants inherit the genetics of their forefathers, therefore making Harry an...?"
"Heir!" Astoria snapped. "Yes, I get it! I see where you're going, but I don't believe for a second that it was Harry who attacked Colin and Mrs. Norris!"
"Astoria!" whispered Theo gravely, the same manic energy that he applied to particularly interesting philosophy lighting up his expression. "What are the odds that there are two relatives of Slytherin at school?"
"I don't know," Astoria scoffed, beginning to become put off by the conversation, "but Harry's really not like that. I don't think he cares about blood status."
"He hates the muggles he grew up with," Theo pointed out. "Maybe he's got it in for all of them and Granger is just an exception."
"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," said Astoria stubbornly.
A rumbling on the steps behind them indicated that the other Slytherins were flooding down the hall.
"What are you doing down here, Greengrass?" called Malfoy, tugging on Crabbe's shirt to stop him from barreling onward with the rest of the crowd. "Having a little conference about the Boy Who Lived?"
"You think Harry is Slytherin's Heir too, do you?" Astoria sighed in exasperation.
"Of course not," snapped Draco, narrowing his eyes. "Potter, the Heir of Slytherin? He doesn't have the wits."
"Well he has the lineage, apparently," argued Theo.
"As if!" Malfoy sneered scornfully. "That was probably a trick Lockhart taught him. Potter's a bigger muggle lover than Dumbledore."
Pansy and her crew of girls came into sight, whispering excitedly. Pansy's head turned when she spotted Draco and she stopped in her tracks entirely when she spotted Astoria. Flora looked around in confusion but Pansy had already reassembled her face into one of polite curiosity.
"Lost, Astoria?" she asked, her pug-like nostrils flaring. "I thought you lived in the tower with snake boy. Or are you hiding down here because you mussed up MacLaggen?"
"What did you do to MacLaggen?" asked Theodore with renewed interest. "Did you punch him? I thought I saw him nursing his shoulder."
"Draco pushed him into the stage," insisted Astoria accusingly. "I never hit him."
"I only pushed him because you hexed him into me," insisted Draco defensively. "What was I suppose to do, let him hang on me?"
"I disarmed him into you," said Astoria sharply. "You and Harry were the only ones I saw hexing each other."
"It's a good thing that you're a pure-blood, Draco," said Theo, raising his voice to make himself heard. "If Harry's a parseltongue, odds are, he's the Heir you been idolizing."
"Why don't we continue this in our common room," Pansy suggested, wheedling for a way of excluding Astoria.
Pansy needn't have bothered. Even though neither Draco nor Theo showed any signs of moving, Astoria was itching to go.
"Think what you want Theo, I'm going to bed," Astoria sighed.
She scaled the dungeon steps irritably. Only when she reached the shadowy, now-deserted entrance hall did it occur to her that nearly a whole castle separated her from her tower dormitory. Perhaps it was because of the way Harry's voice had sounded at the dueling club (so low and inhuman), or perhaps it was because of Theodore's suspicious excitement, but Astoria was suddenly afraid and she half wished she had asked someone to walk with her.
Shivering, she pulled her school robes tight around her shoulders and set off at a brisk pace. The wind rattled the windows. Every breath Astoria took, she imagined from the perspective of a monster lurking somewhere out of sight. By the time Astoria reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and issued the password in a rapid voice, it didn't matter that her family had been pure-blooded for a dozen generations; she was certain that she had only escaped death by inches.
She slept with her blankets pulled up over her head that night, breathing awkwardly through a gap in her sheets.
0o0
Belladonna, what are you doing here? To be honest, I thought it was more fun to have Astoria stay at Hogwarts over Christmas in the next chapter than to send her home and I wanted to touch base with the adult world before next summer. I also rather liked the idea of seeing Lucius and Belladonna interact with each other. I've decided that there is a reason they don't particularly like each other, an old beef if you will, (before anyone gets grossed out, they did not date) that will probably come out in a much later chapter.
Until then, I have a few things to address but if author notes aren't your thing, feel free to skip and I'll be back in a couple of days with a full chapter!
Firstly, I want to quickly say a few things about how irksome Draco is in the earlier years. I know it's no fun to read about him being a bigoted, snide jerk but I really think that in order to keep his character canon, some of that attitude has to remain, particularly in his youth. It's always tempting to write pleasant Draco and Astoria moments but I actually think that the fact that Draco is quite taken with her would probably even further prevent him from coming across as agreeable right now. Anyone who has ever had an awkward crush knows what an ass it can make out of a person. I think the fact that Draco genuinely likes Astoria, (who is never overly obvious about whether or not she is fond of him) is partially to blame for some of Draco's self-conscious unpleasantness. Draco is a bit of a coward and I have a hard time picturing him putting himself on the line in a soft, obvious way unless he was very certain that the feeling would be returned and that he would not be made fun of. Ergo, a lot of his conversations with Astoria come across as either naggy or mocking, mostly because I don't think he really knows how to appeal to her. I'm sorry guys, just give him time!
I also want to talk about Theodore smoking. I sort of knew while I was writing it that the idea would not be very popular. Preteen smoking is always pretty cringeworthy, so I'll respect anyone who who loathes his new habit. That being said however, I picture Theo as the type of kid who is very anxious to be seen as mature or 'grown up'. I think his intellect and his common sense probably outstrip most of his peers and I picture him being slightly frustrated by that. Picking up smoking seems like the type of dumb thing that a kid might do in order to cultivate the self-image of a worldly, adult-like person. Slytherins also seem to make pretty poor choices on who they take for role models and I feel like the fact that Belladonna (who Theodore secretly admires for her sarcasm and her ability to be exactly who she is without compromising) smokes, probably has some influence as well. Rest assured. With maturity, he'll probably grow out of fake crutches to prove his competence.
In any case, thanks so much for reading! I'll put up the Christmas chapter as soon as it's completely ready!