Chapter Sixteen
Hogs Head
0o0
On Halloween morning, Astoria left Gryffindor Tower to meet Theodore in the entrance hall. A line of students in third year or older had already begun to gather, anxious to venture forth into the village.
Dancing around Ernie Macmillian and Hannah Abbot, who both called out to her merrily, Astoria stood on tip toe until she spotted Theo's head—a feat made much simpler by his excessive height.
"Alright, Theo?" Astoria breathed, shrugging out of the way so that Roger Davis did not step on her.
Roger tilted his head to give Astoria a long look as she skirted by and Astoria fought a sudden, ridiculous desire to fold her hands over her chest. There was a certain family resemblance between Roger and Tracey, perhaps because they both shared the same sharp features. Still, Astoria could not help but feel as though Tracey was the more likable of the two.
Filch was standing near the doorway, clutching a clipboard of names and scowling. It appeared as though was only letting students exit the hall in groups of precisely ten. He counted each head before allowing the doors to open, presumably to prevent anybody from sneaking out.
"We have to go to Honeydukes first," Flora gushed near the front of the line. Pansy, Daphne, and Tracey were all part of the same group positioned to exit next. "I want to try sherbet balls!"
Theodore snorted but Astoria could not quite join in the fun. Daphne was now wearing her hair in the same high and tight ponytail that Pansy typically sported. It was not a very flattering look on either of them. Flora's hair, which was brown and very thin, did not look strong enough to tolerate daily gathering (which was perhaps why she wore it at her shoulders) but Tracey, with her sharp bob, was clearly the group's hair rebel.
Once they were finally past Filch, (who took the liberty of prodding Theo in the chest with his pen in order to have a better look at his face) they set off across the grounds for the gates.
It was a chilly fall day and there was a crispness in the air that brought out the pink in both of their cheeks. Astoria sucked in as much of this delicious freedom as she could, knowing what awaited them at the entrance to the grounds. Indeed, she felt the cold in her long before she spotted the dementors hovering on either side of the path.
"Eyes down," Theo reminded her quietly, sapped of all his vigor. "Just breathe and walk."
This method turned out to work much better than Astoria expected it would. The sucking presence of the dementors was decidedly less distressful when she knew that it was coming and could properly prepare herself first. They crossed the haunted boundary in record time.
"Where do you want to go first?" asked Astoria merrily when they at last left reached main street.
"CHARMS FOR SALE!" bellowed a wizard in a patched, frayed, and very dirty brown cloak. "CHARMS AND AMULETS! PROTECTION FROM INTRUDERS! PROTECTION FROM HARM!"
Theodore had the sense to look away from this merchant salesman immediately but Astoria did not turn her eyes away fast enough. "CHARMS, GIRLIE! CHARMS!"
"Anywhere that doesn't make us walk past him," said Theo, dragging Astoria off down a pleasantly wooded side alley. The brick walls of a dozen houses and shops hid the main avenue from sight here. To their right, several benches overlooked a sparkling stream. A breeze stirred, shivering though the bright trees and they were suddenly showered by a dazzling rain of golden leaves.
Astoria lifted both of her hands aloft and laughed. Theo pulled his cloak a little tighter and shrugged the falling foliage off grumpily.
Voices echoed off of the stone buildings behind them as the wind died down. Astoria turned just in time to see Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle approaching. Malfoy appeared to be jeering at something and Astoria did not imagine his subject would be hard to guess—the man in the cloak was still screaming.
"Of course," sighed Theo, brushing the last of the leaves from his hair. Astoria still had her hands up. Snatching quickly, she caught a bright yellow leaf mid-flight.
"Honestly, you'd think that public ordinances would force his sort off the street!" Malfoy sneered, closing in on them.
"Hello, Draco," called Astoria idly, handing the yellow leaf she was holding out to Crabbe. Crabbe took it with a look of confusion and began to inspect it.
"Wha's this?" Crabbe asked, turning the poplar leaf over.
"A leaf," said Astoria, smiling at him kindly.
"Let's keep walking, Astoria," urged Theo, anxious to be away from Draco. "It's cold."
"Where are you two going?" demanded Malfoy rudely, his eyes fixed on the leaves that were still caught in Astoria's hair.
"Nowhere. Just wandering," shrugged Theodore stubbornly, unwilling to offer up a destination.
"I suppose you're on the look out for dodgy pubs to sneak into?" drawled Draco, amused to the point of near indulgence.
"Always," Astoria sang, reaching up a hand to brush the stray leaves from her windswept hair. "The Hog's Head is up the hill."
"The Hog's Head was a human hideout during the goblin wars, by the way," burst Theo. "I kept trying to figure out why the name was so familiar..."
"It's famous for being a disreputable meeting place of dark wizards," drawled Draco, "not goblins."
"Really, Theo," agreed Astoria primly, standing on her tip-toes to scout the hill. "Straighten out your priorities!"
"Excuse me for wanting to be where the crime isn't," muttered Theodore under his breath. "Why don't we just go to the Three Broomsticks? That's where everyone else goes."
"And miss out on the chance to have an actual hag try to sell us illegal goods?" cried Astoria in indignation. "I think not, Theodore friend."
"Come on, Astoria!" moaned Theodore, trailing after her. Despite his interest, he had clearly developed cold feet. "I don't want to be responsible for taking one of the prettiest girls I know into a den of troll sin. It's not my fault that you're a twisted lunatic who secretly craves the experience of having an actual hag sell you illegal goods. Let's just go to the bookshop!"
"Don't be such a sissy!" Astoria insisted.
"I'm not going," Theodore sniffed, putting his foot down.
"Fine," Astoria sighed, rounding on Malfoy. "Draco, you take me."
Malfoy's eyebrows rose, but he did not look altogether unwilling.
"You want me to take you to a seedy bar?" he repeated incredulously. Whatever Draco's natural reservations might be, the fact that Astoria was calling on him as something of a male champion went straight to his ego.
"Oh, that's nice!" Theo scoffed, annoyed and shifting his weight from foot to foot to ward off the cold.
Crabbe and Goyle blinked silently as Draco thought, waiting for a command. Astoria only had eyes for Theodore; she watched him slyly, positive that if Malfoy went, he would come along too.
"I'm not buying anything from a hag," said Draco at last, laying down the gauntlet.
"Fine," Astoria agreed. "How about that, Theo? No hags. Are you still scared?"
"I was never scared!" Theo spluttered emphatically. "You know what, fine. Lets just go. Forget about it, Malfoy. We're all set."
"No," decided Draco lazily. "I think I'll come along."
They set off down the alley which eventually opened up onto a bustling, cobbled main street. They passed the cheery looking Three Broomstick on the corner and then followed the path until they reached a steep winding drive. At the top perched an old Inn that Astoria took to be the Hogs Head.
"This is foolish," complained Theodore as they picked their way up the gravely slope. "They're going to kick us out."
"They will for sure if you keep saying that," Astoria muttered witheringly.
They reached the inn's battered front door. Theodore opened it wearily and held it for her.
Astoria had to blink to adjust her eyes to the darkness inside. It was a wide, open room with a roughly hewn bar in the corner. The walls were picked out with stone, lending the space all the charm of a dungeon. As though, once inside, escape would come at a hard bargain.
Hearing the door, a woman wearing a full length veil looked up to survey the newcomers. For no particular reason at all she began to hiss.
"Lovely," Theodore cringed, giving the woman in the veil a very wide berth.
Astoria shrugged and pushed deeper into the gloom of straw and sawdust. The light of a small fire guided her feet, but it was only a pocket sized pile of smoldering coals and she stumbled more than once. A man in a dark cloak raised his shrouded head to stare at them when they passed.
"Ok," whispered Theo. "We got through the door. Have you had enough?"
Next moment, several things happened all at once: a large, graying man with a thick beard—no doubt the proprietor—appeared through a staff door and spotted Crabbe and Goyle standing very near the entry. "You two, out!" he growled ominously. Meanwhile, at precisely the same second, a hand slid across the nearest table and grabbed Astoria's arm.
"You're from the school?" a hurried voice whispered urgently. Startled, Astoria squinted back. She was being held by the man in the cloak, but a think fold of material still hid his features from sight. Unable to make anything out, her eyes darted toward the strangers long fingers and her sense of foreboding tripled. He was clutching her sleeve tightly.
"I— yes—" she stuttered.
The bartender was forcing Crabbe and Goyle out the door. Ignoring their monosyllabic protests, he cuffed the back of Crabbe's thick neck with his ledger.
"Quickly girl!" whispered the man in the cloak. "Before Aberforth comes back!"
He was trying to thrust something into Astoria's hands. Whatever it was crinkled slightly in her reluctant grasp; a letter or some other type of folded parchment.
"What is this?" Astoria asked, recoiling.
Draco, who had been watching Crabbe and Goyle's ungraceful exit through wary eyes, finally turned around to search for Astoria, perhaps thinking it was time that they slipped out themselves. The minute he spotted the hooded stranger he stiffened.
"Deliver it!" the man growled into Astoria's ear, spotting Draco and standing up. "Bring it through the gates—"
Aberforth the bartender was back and there would be no escaping his notice this time. "You three!" he bellowed dangerously, pointing his finger at them. The man in the long cloak seemed to melt away as Aberforth charged across the room.
"You're not suppose to be in here, you grimy twerps!" Aberforth grabbed Theodore by the scruff of his collar, but his eyes swiveled about searchingly. "Where is that man who was just standing next to you?"
"What man?" asked Theo in hot confusion.
"He's gone," answered Malfoy insolently. "We were just about to be going as well."
"Like hell you are!" Aberforth swore, taking hold of Astoria's arm. The mysterious letter that the cloaked man had given her was still in her hand. Shimmying a little, Astoria managed to pass the letter into her cloak pocket. She was not sure that she wanted it in the first place, but she was quite unwilling to let Aberforth take it from her before she'd had a chance to look at it.
"Through here!" commanded Aberforth, pushing them toward a crooked wooden door. "Go straight up—I'll be wanting a word after I've had a look around for your friend. Go!"
Theo seized the knob and pulled the door open to reveal a very dark, musty staircase. They had only just jammed themselves into the tilting stairwell when the door was pushed shut behind them with a snap.
Astoria blinked furiously, willing her eyes to adjust to the challenge of this even dimmer space. The musty air was so still that she could hear her heart pounding. The sounds of the pub trickled through the dingy walls at a muffled pitch, bit it was as though they were standing in a secret passageway behind the wall. It would not have surprised Astoria at all if they discovered a secret spy hole.
Theodore was rubbing his neck where Aberforth had grabbed him. "What do we do now?" he asked. "We can't go back out there with that psychopath on the rampage! What was he talking about? What other friend? Where either of you talking to someone?"
Astoria's eyes drifted up the creaking old staircase. "I guess we go up."
Their steps made the ancient wood creak eeirly as they climbed the rickety flight of stairs. Astoria clung to the banister, leaving a long, creepy trail behind her in the dust,
At the top of the steps, they faced another closed door. Some of the dingy grey wallpaper around it was peeling away and there were bits of plaster under Astoria's feet. She pushed the second door open to reveal a small sitting room that looked as though it doubled as an office.
It was lighter in here. Thanks to a single dirty window, grey, gristly light fell across a very old desk.
Three armchairs, all in dire need of a reupholstering, crowded the hearth rug. A large barrel filled with walking sticks stood next to a soot marked fireplace, over which hung a large and impressive painting of a sorrowful looking child.
"Honestly! What does he think he's going to do with us?" sneered Draco, lifting a piece of parchment with Sirius Black's face on it off of the desk between two of his fingers. "It's not as though he can keep us from going back to school."
"No," snapped Theo, irritably, "but he can beat us with all of his walking sticks first! How high up is this window?" He moved an old cigar box out of the way to have a look down through the grubby glass.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes and turned an old bottle around carelessly so that he could read the label on it. "He's not going to beat us, Nott. You think he won't recognize our family names?"
Astoria was not certain who she thought made the better point. On the one hand, (presuming Aberforth had any sense of self preservation) he would probably not do any harm to a pack of Hogwarts students. On the other, Aberforth was known to prefer the company of goats and this didn't strike Astoria as a very promising sign of sanity.
Still, the story was only getting better. Fred and George would envy the fact that they had penetrated the Hogs Head, but being ushered into a private office the cherry on top. It was possible they wouldn't even believe her.
Astoria's eyes began to rove, searching for a meaningless trinket that she could use to prove her tale and lit on a large, crystal ashtray. Astoria turned it around and wiped dust off of the front; sure enough, it was etched with a Hogs Head insignia.
"Well, I'm not waiting around for that lunatic to come back!" said Theo, trying to shoulder open the ancient. It did not budge.
It was on Astoria's mind to help him when spotted a door on the other side of the room. Pocketing the ashtray, she crossed the worn rug and yanked it open it without much hope, fully expecting back of a broom cupboard. A gaping hallway yawned beyond, at the bottom of which a ray of clear sunlight shone.
"Is that a back door?" drawled Malfoy in a voice of disbelieving astonishment.
Theo blinked, his shoulder still pressed against the sticky window.
"Come on," insisted Astoria, starting down this second staircase hastily. Theo abandoned his attempt to force the window and Malfoy moved away from the desk to follow her, laughing under his breath.
The door at the bottom of the steps would not budge. For a long, terrible moment, Astoria feared that it was locked. Then, Theodore, perhaps thinking of the grimy window upstairs, shoved hard against the the wood until it gave way. A gust of fresh air greeted them as they spilled urgently out onto the same gravel walk they had climbed earlier.
"That was insane!" hooted Theodore, smirking now as though the whole adventure had been his idea in the first place. "The beer in this place must be mad—why else would anyone want to drink here?"
"I should hope so," added Malfoy. Astoria turned about and saw that he was still holding the bottle that he had been inspecting on Aberforth's desk. "What do you think this is? I can't read the label."
"Hah!" Theo wheezed. He rummaged about his pockets and produced a cigar that he must have nicked from the box on the windowsill. "These didn't even have a label.
Astoria, who normally would have felt slightly bad about robbing someone's personal office, doubled over with laughter.
"What?" asked Theo.
Astoria pulled the crystal ashtray out of her pocket, blinking back tears of mirth.
"What is that?" drawled Draco in sneering delight. "Did you steal the man's crystal?"
"No," breathed Theo, reaching a state of agitated ecstasy as he recognizing the shape of the object in Astoria's hands. "It's an ashtray!"
All three of them were laughing so hard at this incredible solidarity of theft that they jumped together when the window that Theo had spent so many minutes trying to force open suddenly snapped upward as though it had been recently greased. A ruddy head promptly filled it.
"YOU KIDS GET BACK HERE!"
Theodore swore.
"Run!" Astoria laughed, grabbing Theo's arm.
They stumbled, tripping all over each other back down the drive. The sound of Aberforth's rage chased at their heels like a pack of nipping hounds. Astoria didn't stop running until they had reached the same alley with the benches that faced the stream. Panting, she slumped down onto the chilly grass. Her hands were clammy and her scarf disheveled. Theodore rolled down after her, clutching a stitch in his side. The exertion of actual exercise never treated him kindly and this was no exception.
"Well, there you go Astoria! Was that exciting enough for you?" Theodore gasped. "No hags with smuggled goods but you did get chased halfway across the village."
Astoria picked herself up off the grass, eyeing the cool current of the stream. She stumbled toward the low sloping bank. Draco and Theo, still breathing heavily, followed her down toward the water.
"What did that man in the cloak say to you?" asked Draco, leaning against a rock, his pale face flushed from the run.
"What man in a cloak?" demanded Theo skeptically. "Why does everyone keep saying that? No one talked to her."
"Yes, they did," said Draco sneeringly. "A man grabbed her by the front of her shirt. It looked like he was trying to give her something."
"What?" asked Theo, turning toward Astoria in surprise.
"He was trying to give me a letter," Astoria confirmed, surprised by Draco's astute observation. She sank down onto the sandy ground and let her fingers trail through the water.
"Ten galleons says that's why Aberforth made us go up into his office," heaved Theodore darkly.
"Did he say who the letter was for?" wondered Draco.
"No," Astoria answered, poking at a floating leaf on the top of the water. "He only said that he wanted me to get it past the school gates."
"Past the dementors, you mean," said Theo wearily, made tense by this news. "That's really dodgy."
"Yeah," agreed Astoria, somewhat evasively. "I think must have been waiting there for someone going back to Hogwarts. The first thing he asked me was if I was from the school."
"Students don't go to the Hogs Head, though," frowned Theodore. "He must have been hoping for a teacher. But really, what kind of professor would smuggle a letter with Sirius Black at large?"
"I don't know," said Astoria, considering her encounter with the cloaked stranger afresh.
"He waited for the bartender to kick out Crabbe and Goyle before he tried to talk to you," added Malfoy with calculating keenness, still braced against the rock. "He used the noise as a cover. Nott didn't even see him."
"You did though, didn't you, Draco?" sniped Theodore with a strange, implicating snideness.
"He grabbed her," sneered Draco, bristling. "It was hard to miss."
"Draco's right," decided Astoria."The man in the cloak definitely didn't want Aberforth to see him. He said so actually, which means he wasn't a regular."
"Bloody hell!" sighed Theodore. "You were probably just approached by Sirius Black!"
Astoria scoffed but Malfoy seemed to give the idea more serious consideration.
"It's too bad he didn't manage to actually give it to you," he drawled. "Although, I suppose that madman bartender would have taken it from you anyway."
Astoria stared at her reflection in the surface of the stream. She turned to look at them, biting her lip guiltily.
"What?" demanded Theodore stonily. He had taken the cigar out of his pocket and was attempting to clip the end of it but he left off fiddling to stare back at her apprehensively.
Astoria shook water off the ends of her fingers and reached into her cloak pocket.
"You kept it?" exclaimed Theo angrily, snatching the letter from Astoria's hands before she had a chance to even look at it properly.
"Let me see," demanded Malfoy. He got up off the rock awkwardly; his cloak disguised his bandaged arm well, but it did not help him balance.
"No!" said Theo. "No one is looking. It could be cursed!"
Astoria snatched the envelope back from him and turned it over to examine it. The letter had been pressed shut with a blue wax seal, but there was no coat of arms to identify the sender. The mark was anonymous, stamped into standard mailing wax. Now that Astoria looked at it, she wasn't certain that it was anything more a single piece of paper folded over to act as an envelope.
"Don't open that, Astoria!" said Theodore warningly. "We're miles from the school. What if you suddenly fainted or went mad?"
Theo made a fair point, but Astoria could not see anything blatantly wrong with the paper in her hands. "I think it's just a letter Theo. One of the teachers has probably been doing some illegal trading. It's probably a bill for Snape's dodgy potion supplies."
"Isn't that the seal they use at the post office?" Malfoy snorted. "It looks standard."
"I still think it's a bad idea," Theodore insisted. "Even Aberforth thought your cloaked stranger was weird—and notice how the man gave the letter to you, Astoria? You've got a Gryffindor badge on on your cloak. Potter's in your house.'
Malfoy's look of confidence flickered a little, but Astoria went ahead and broke the wax anyway. Theodore stiffened.
"It's blank," sneered Draco, taking the page from Astoria's hands and turning it over. "There's nothing written on it."
"That you can see," countered Theodore sharply. "It's not hard to disguise writing so that only the person a letter is meant for can read it... or it could be in invisible ink! Let me see—"
Clearly an intellectual challenge was all Theodore needed to stop being afraid. He spread the piece of parchment out on the sand and began to prod it lightly with the tip of his wand, muttering to himself under his breath. Loosing interest, Draco took the bottle of stolen liquid back out of his cloak and began to peer at it under the bright sunlight, plainly more interested in discovering the nature its contents.
Astoria peered at the weather-worn label. "It's French."
"Yeah," Draco bristled, sensing he ought to have realized this, "but the writing is faded and in cursive."
"It's Belgian brandy," Astoria declared, following a line of very faded print with her finger. Her relationship with the Mendel family had it's perks; they spoke French natively, therefore she spoke it as second-language quite comfortably.
"It doesn't say that anywhere on here," Malfoy insisted.
"It does if you add a few letters where it's faded," Astoria shrugged. "Try it."
Malfoy quirked an eyebrow but he obviously believed her because he put the bottle between his legs and began to pull on the cork.
"Reveleo!" Theodore hissed, flourishing his wand in complex patterns.
Unable to make sense out of Theodore's mumbling, Astoria watched Malfoy struggle to open the bottle.
"Use both hands," she snorted.
Malfoy's shoulders went still. He shot her a punishing, nonplussed look.
"Oh, that's right!" exclaimed Astoria brightly, realizing what the trouble was. "You're still posing as a cripple!"
Malfoy sneered, but Astoria took the bottle from him and worked the cork out without offering any further insults.
"I think that is brandy," Astoria coughed, trying a sip without permission. "It tastes like medicine."
"I give up!" snapped Theo dejectedly, refolding the letter. "Either there's nothing written here—doubtful—or your mysterious gentleman is very handy with spells. Good, we're drinking."
Failure had tightened Theodore's mood even further. Astoria was very glad when Draco let him grab the bottle without putting up a fight.
There was a rocky sort of shelf several feet downstream. Afraid of being discovered by a teacher or a puritanical shop keeper, they all climbed out onto it. Using the river bank as a bench, Astoria dangled her feet over the edge and peered down. Despite its cold and unaccommodating appearance, she guessed that the stream could not be more than two feet deep.
"What ever happened to Crabbe and Goyle?" wondered Theodore pensively, lighting his cigar.
Malfoy shrugged disinterestedly. Astoria peered sidelong at him, certain that she would be offended if one of her friends cared so little about what had happened to her.
"They wouldn't have gone back to school?" she asked, thinking guiltily of the way Aberforth had hit Crabbe.
"Nah, the Three broomsticks," Draco guessed, tipping the bottle to his lips with his free hand. "That's where everyone else went."
"Did Daphne go?" asked Astoria, unable to stop herself from prying.
"I don't know," scoffed Draco. "If you care so much, why didn't you just ask her?"
"Because Daphne's not talking to Astoria," observed Theodore with careless brutality.
"That's not true," shot Astoria quickly, not entirely wanting her rift with Daphne to become public knowledge.
"Sure it is," Theo snorted. "You two haven't talked in weeks. Merlin's sake, I even heard Flora mention it the other night at dinner."
"Flora's a winey little hatchet face," snapped Astoria aggressively.
"She really is, isn't she?" agreed Theo, laughing rather unkindly.
"Her father's got a nose like a dagger," supplied Malfoy, undisturbed.
Astoria cackled. Making fun of people with pointed features was a bit rich coming from Draco, (who was certainly a bit angular himself) but she was in no position to argue. In truth, she was thankful for the distraction. She was surprised to find how much discussing Daphne disturbed her. Although he did not know it, Theodore's comment had wounded her.
"You know, I've got this theory that Flora's going to wind up marrying a foreigner," announced Theodore, still puffing pensively. "Some rich man who has absolutely no idea what she's saying half the time. He'll show her off at dinner parties for a couple of years like a purebred dog and then, when he finally gets a grasp on the English language, he'll smother her with a pillow."
Half out of shock, Astoria laughed.
"You'll probably end up with someone fresh out of an institution, Nott," sneered Draco, but Astoria could tell that he was amused.
Theodore colored slightly but managed to save face by snorting.
"What about me?" Astoria asked, kicking off her shoes and dipping a toe into the frigid water. Between the brandy and the jolt that she had experienced discussing Daphne, she was beginning to feel warm and almost unacceptably awkward. "Tell me all about the paragon of Gryffindor heroism that you expect I'll end up with and please, don't spare any of the details of aunt Belladonna's meltdown."
Malfoy sneered reflexively. It looked as though he was about to say something but Theodore's barking laughter cut him off. "Ha!"
"What?" asked Astoria incredulously, kicking water at passing leaves.
"You might look like a sweet little lady, Astoria, but let's face it, you're easily seduced by crime," Theodore went on in a very reasonable voice, obviously warming to the subject. "I bet you're sitting on a pile of secret predilections. No Gryffindor hero for you!"
Astoria let out a sound of surprise and flicked water at him.
"It's true," Theodore insisted. Astoria could see the brandy at work upon his lively imagination. "We were in the village for five minutes before you rallied four Slytherins to take you to a illicit meeting place just so that some wicked creature could try to sell you illegal goods? No, no, no, it'll be some dreadful Hungarian for you. A Count maybe."
"That was just for fun!" Astoria protested, laughing because this was just untrue enough to be funny, but only just.
"Yes," Theo went on, clearly enjoying the picture he was painting, "definitely a Count. The type with a great drafty castle and an artistic flair for sadism. He'll own a set of ivory backed hair combs that he guards jealously and a collection of morose poetry describing all of the wicked things he'd like to do to girls like you."
Astoria threw her head back and laughed joyously because this was taking things just far enough to be properly hilarious. '"Does he let me read his poetry or will I be left guessing?"
Theodore cackled and Malfoy stared at them both incredulously, clearly torn between being amused and a little bothered.
"What about Malfoy then?" asked Astoria, catching the look of genuine distaste slowly working its way onto Draco's face. "If I'm going to marry Count Dracula, who is he going to end up with? Take no prisoners, Theo!"
"Someone really stupid," said Theo at once. Astoria laughed and peered between her fingers at Draco; he looked haughty and affronted.
"Someone just as bad as Flora, but in the end, he'll lack the courage to smother her," Theodore finished.
"Shut up, Nott," hissed Draco, going very red. "At least the person I marry won't have to already be insane. I pity the girl who ends up with you."
Astoria, still giggling, knocked her shoulder playfully against Draco's. He remained rigid with annoyance and cast her the briefest of disgraced looks. Astoria passed the bottle back to him cajolingly, noticing as she did so that Theodore's face had turned rather murderous as well. This is why people don't hang around with Slytherins, she thought to herself.
"You should have signed up for Divination while you had the chance, Theo," called Astoria, seeking to defuse. She pushed her legs into the water up to her knees.
After a long awkward pause, Malfoy snorted and took another sip of brandy, shaking off his preposterous annoyance.
"Are you trying to go swimming?" asked Theo, knocking cigar ash into the ashtray she had taken.
Astoria, who was nearly falling off the rock to gauge the water's depth, grinned at him. With a small push, she dropped to her feet and found that the brook came up to her mid-thighs, grazing the end of her skirt.
"Isn't that cold?" scoffed Malfoy, staring at the water dubiously.
It was but Astoria had had her feet submerged for so long already that the water felt almost pleasant. Looking down at the bottom of the riverbed, she was able to count small white pebbles and jagged looking rocks with her toes. She relished the hot sun as it beat down on her arms and shoulders.
A wood fire was burning somewhere in the village; there was a pleasant trace of smoke in the air. Occasional bird calls were the only disruptions to her leisure. Astoria collected leaves from fast moving water, dipping her forearms deep into the icy stream when the sun became too warm. Eventually, however, the heat started to get to her. Astoria wiped her forehead on her sleeve, tossed her head back so that her hair fell out of her face and turned to look back at the riverbank.
Theo was smoking idly, sending chalky colored rings up into the bald blue sky. Malfoy, still lounging against the rocks, was watching Astoria in a distracted and unguarded way from beneath his eyelashes. His expression was far away and unreadable, but he jolted when she met met his gaze. Assuming his mind had been elsewhere, Astoria began to wonder what time it was.
The angle of the sun had started to change. It was now directly overhead, blazing with afternoon intensity. At least an hour must have passed since they had opened the brandy and she had spent most of it in a sleepy haze.
Shaking herself awake, Astoria climbed back onto the rocks. They were warm and very dry beneath her wet legs—even her toenail polish looked strangely bright and sorcerous after an hour submerged in the cold. Astoria stretched out and offered her limbs to the sun.
"Astoria! Hey, look—it's Astoria! OY!"
About ten feet away, Fred, George and Lee Jordan had paused on a small stone bridge that allowed for foot traffic to pass over the the stream. Astoria tipped them a formal salute.
"I say!" George called out across the water. "Are you lounging with Slytherins?"
Beside her, Draco made a sound of derision but Astoria could only laugh; a sound that carried clearly across the sparkling stream.
"Hand me that, would you?" said Astoria, eager to reclaim the ashtray from Theodore. She turned over its contents into the grass and held up an arm to block the sun. "Can you catch?"
"I can catch if you can throw," Fred returned jovially.
The ashtray blazed in the sunlight, sending prisms of light dancing across the side of the bridge before Fred caught it.
"What's this?" he asked, turning it over. When he discovered the emblem of the boar on its side he roared with laughter.
"What is it?" asked Lee, trying to have a better look.
"It's from the Hogs Head!" exclaimed George in delight. "How did you get this? You didn't get in?"
"All the way in," Astoria bragged, forgetting all about the terror she had experiencing running down the drive. "I snagged that from Aberforth's office."
"What?" demanded Fred. Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson were calling for him across the street but Astoria's story was better. "Without us? You slippery minx! I want details!"
"Save me a seat at dinner," Astoria called, relived that they did not seem to be inclined come down the embankment. She did not think her present company would tolerate such their invasion quietly.
George continued to admire the ashtray fondly as he jogged across the bridge.
"I don't know why you just told him," insisted Draco snidely. "He's probably over there telling the rest of that pack of idiots all about it right now."
"No, he's not," said Astoria confidently. "Fred and George know how to keep a secret."
0o0
The entrance hall was packed with students waiting for the Halloween feast when they returned to the castle that evening. The smells of roasting pumpkin and duck were overwhelming; a mixture of confection and savory. Astoria that she had been so distracted with by pubs and dodgy letters, (she had left the blank note on the riverbank just in case) that she had not eaten since breakfast. Even Honeydukes had evaded her; Astoria was ravenous.
"The Dementors send their love, Potter!" shouted Malfoy as they shuffled through the front doors. He pushed up onto the tips of his feet to jeer at Harry over the heads of the teaming crowd.
"Draco!" exclaimed Pansy, recognizing Malfoy's taunting cat-call from afar. "There you are! Why didn't you come to The Three Broomsticks? We though you would after Crabbe and Goyle showed up—"
A group of Slytherin girls had gathered near a suit of armor by the doors. Behind them, Crabbe and Goyle were both signaling to Draco, looking deeply relieved. Perhaps they were not entirely capable of comfortably governing themselves?
"There you two are," Draco called lazily, spotting his friends. He offered no explanation for his absence. Crabbe and Goyle shuffled towards him oafishly.
"Oh, right, they've been waiting for you," Pansy's eyes narrowed slightly but her voice lost none of its lightheartedness. "How did you three get separated, anyway?"
Daphne was staring at the floor, deliberately not making eye contact with anybody. Astoria stared at her, daring her to look up and recognize her. But Daphne continued to blink at the stone, unwilling to speak so much as a word.
The doors opened and they all separated. Astoria made a beeline for the Gryffindor table without even saying goodbye to Theodore, afraid of what she might do if Daphne kept on avoiding her so coldly.
The food, as always, was undeniably good. Several of the ghosts put on a show of formation gliding while they ate and Nearly Headless Nick, the most festive of them all, was good enough to reenact his own death before an audience of rambunctious first years.
Fred and George were in a very good mood. They had just returned from a long talk with the proprietor of Zonko's joke shop and several things about the meeting had struck the twins as enticingly promising. They had showed him a few of their latest ideas, Fred admitted bashfully, and he had liked a several of them so much that he had nearly offered to pay for them.
"Mind, we don't fancy the idea of turning over our creations to someone else," explained Fred, "only it's good to know that someone would pay for them, you know?"
By the time Astoria left the great hall she was very full and feeling uncommonly sleepy. It was a forced march to the tower; the twins had hung back to continue bragging to Lee Jordan and she had no one to talk to. By the time she reached the last set of steps she was yawning cartoonishly, but something about the landing compelled her to pause.
The portrait was closed as it usually was, but all the torches on either side of the hall had been extinguished. This in itself was not so very unusual, only there was an air of disarray about the corridor that she could not quite put her finger on.
Her eyes adjusted to the lack of light slowly. Only then did she realize that there was something wrong with the portrait of the Fat Lady. It had been cut: long, chilling slashes gaped blackly where the animated picture's inhabitant ought to be and there were great lengths of canvas on the floor near her feet.
Genuinely chilled, Astoria took a hard step backwards.
"Oof!"
She had recoiled into something solid. Nerves zinging electrically, she whipped around and discovered Neville behind her in the dark.
"What's wrong?" he asked at once.
0o0
A whole line of students was pushing toward the entrance to the tower by the time Dumbledore arrived. Astoria had long since shifted toward the back of the crowd, unwilling to be the spokesperson for every new student arriving.
She had tried explaining that she did not know what had happened over and over, first to Percy and then to Professor McGongall. In the end, it was Peeves who solved the mystery. The poltergeist had actually seen the intruder and he dropped the name like hot coals at their feet: "Sirius Black!"
Back down the corridor and back down seven flights stairs of stairs. Back across the entrance hall they returned. Several moments later, confused and sleepy, the rest of the school joined them in the great hall.
"The professors and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Dumbledore informed the late-comers. "For now, it is safest for you all to sleep here—"
"Astoria!" yelled Theodore, working his way toward her through the crowd. "What's going on? The first years are saying Sirius Black tried to break into your common room and Neville Longbottom's telling everyone from Ravenclaw that the portrait that guards the entrance was attacked and you found it first."
"You actually saw Sirius Black?" demanded another voice.
Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were elbowing a pack of Hufflepuffs out of the way to get to her. This was a Gryffindor story and Astoria was the only member of her house that either boy was on speaking terms with. She would therefore be expected to share the whole tale again.
"I didn't see him," grumbled Astoria, feeling more and more exhausted as the noise in the hall grew louder. "I just found the portrait slashed. Peeves says he say Black."
"But you were the first to realize that there was a break in," spluttered Theodore, clearly appalled. "Where you alone?"
To Astoria's intense surprise, Malfoy seemed to be doing a poor job of smothering his own disgust at this revelation.
"Of course I was alone," complained Astoria. "I was going to bed."
"Only at Hogwarts!" jeered Malfoy. "It's like a day without an attack around here is a day wasted."
"Your arm isn't even injured!" Astoria snapped, assuming this was an allusion to Draco's own recent suffering. Couldn't they see that she was very tired and sick of talking about this?
Malfoy startled, obviously taken aback by such unprovoked snappishness.
"It's a good thing it's Halloween, Greengrass," he returned vengefully. "Otherwise you might have timed things just right for Black to attack you!"
Astoria knew he was right but did not care to delve too deeply into this idea. It had already occurred to her that she would very likely have walked right into Sirius Black's path if she had not stayed at the feast for dessert.
"The lights are going out now!" yelled Percy. "I want everybody in sleeping bags. Silence!"
"You think it actually was Sirius Black?" whispered Theo, lingering for as long as he could.
Malfoy, sensing there might be more, hung back to listen.
"I don't know," Astoria confessed. "Probably. I don't know why Peeves would lie to Dumbledore and you should have seen the portrait. It looked like someone had a fit with a knife, just hacking and slashing whatever they could reach."
The lights went out on Draco and Theodore's stunned faces. Astoria grabbed one of the sleeping bags that Dumbledore had conjured and wandered over to where Fred, George and Lee Jordan were lying.
"Bloody hell, Astoria," said George grimly. "Neville says you found the Fat Lady's portrait?"
Astoria's shoulder sagged as she unrolled her sleeping bag, preparing for another round.
0o0
It's a funny thing but I don't remember Prisoner of Azkaban as being a particularly scary book when I was a kid. Do you guys? Chamber of Secrets and Half Blood Prince, yes. Prisoner of Azkaban, no. Maybe it's because Sirius Black is the antagonist and he turns out to be such a nice guy at the end? I don't know.
In any case, this chapter was a fun mini-adventure. I like that it gives Theodore a chance to showcase some of his creativity (Hungarian Counts) and his wits. The Hogs Head will be back a few times in later chapters so I thought I'd send them there now to establish its seediness. I'll catch up with the rest of the characters in the next chapter. I know this one was a little Draco/Astoria/Theo heavy!