Chapter Twenty
Cormac's Proposal
0o0
December arrived on the wings of a bitter cold front. By the weekend, the grey rain that had been falling steadily outside the castle began to transform into a cheerful type of snow. Meanwhile, Ravenclaw played the chilliest game of quidditch against Hufflepuff that anyone could remember and won. Gryffindor was back in the running for the House Cup; a good thing, too, because Astoria desperately needed something to lighten her mood before break.
"We can do our Christmas shopping together this year!" exclaimed Tracey excitedly on Monday morning. She gestured toward the notice board, where a Hogsmeade visit was scheduled for the last weekend of term. "That'll be much easier than trying to get mum to take me into London. And Lord knows Roger hates it when I go with him anywhere."
Astoria shrugged. Tracey mentioned Roger so infrequently that, from time to time, Astoria nearly forgot that she had a brother. But Roger Davis—the current Ravenclaw quidditch captain—had not missed the latest changes in Tracey's social life.
"What year are you in, then?" he had asked Astoria during a free period only days before, leaning against their library table, tapping his fingers musically against their Astronomy charts.
"She's in my year, Roger, leave her alone," Tracey had interjected hotly.
By way of response, Roger unleashed a winning grin, forcing Astoria to resist the urge to laugh; not because Roger was especially charming, but because he seemed to have a bit of his sister's obviousness about him.
"Well, I've no interest in the village," announced Theodore, squinting hatefully at the noticeboard. "I learned my lesson. You two can scrounge up all the secret letter carriers and irate barkeepers you like. I'm staying in."
"No one is making you go," Tracey snorted. "Personally, I'd love to get into some trouble before the holidays..."
Astoria grinned sheepishly, but took care not to appear overly excited. Theodore was looking a little sour.
"You're not staying at Hogwarts for Christmas again, are you?" he demanded in a low voice, pulling Astoria aside as they made their way past the notices toward breakfast. "I don't think I can stand another holiday at home alone. Last year was abysmal—I couldn't even get Millicent to stop over by the end and she's about as tolerant as they come."
"No, I'm not staying on," Astoria returned, smiling wryly. "But I won't be spending the whole break with Belladonna, either. I got a letter from my aunt—Aston Mendel's been asking after me. It looks like I'm going to be spending Christmas proper in France."
"Figures," muttered Theodore grimly. "You'll be gone—what, a week? Or is this your way of saying I'll be seeing you in January?"
"I'll be back before New Years," Astoria assured him.
"You can't be serious," Tracey interjected sharply.
"I am," Astoria frowned, turning toward her in surprise. "Why?"
Wary of Tracey's mounting flush, Astoria sat down at the end of the table and busied herself with a bowl of assorted oats.
"Because you're going to miss all the Christmas parties!" Tracey whined. "That's why!"
"I'm sure I'll find something to do in France," Astoria shrugged, polishing an apple on her sweater.
"Well, isn't that nice," sneered Tracey. "Hang France! You're supposed to stay here and help me keep track of the parties we've each been invited to so that we can find a way to go together!"
"Oh," reflected Astoria dully.
Excluding Daphne—who hated parties—Astoria had very few female friends. The duty of syncing itineraries before a holiday had not even occurred to her. Surely Tracey could manage on her own?
"I'll be back for the New Year parties, I suppose," she ventured feebly.
"That's rubbish!" countered Tracey hotly. Cramming half of a bagel in her mouth, she chewed with a violent, thoughtful intensity. "You're going to spend the whole Christmas season in France with Aston Mendel and his son—and probably his son's gorgeous, rich friends—and I'll be stuck here, sorting my mail and waiting for something good to happen."
"It's only a week," Astoria insisted, beginning to feel anxious. "I expect there won't be anything but a few dinner parties with Aston's friends to go to—nothing to get angry over!"
"Ruh-bish!" repeated Tracey, finishing off the bagel in a single, impossible swallow.
"There's no guarantee I'd have gotten invited to anything here if I'd stayed," Astoria countered.
"Please," snapped Tracey. "Spare me. Your aunt has to be on a couple of good invite lists and there's probably a dozen boys plotting ways to ask you to go to their family parties right now!"
"Yeah!" agreed Theodore boisterously, smirking into his coffee. "Right now! You don't want to disappoint a dozen plotting boys, do you? Stay with us."
Astoria shared a private grin with Theodore before scooping up her books for the bell.
It was first period Ancient Runes today, but Tracey (who had Charms) tagged along as far as the fourth floor, continuing to vent her feelings of betrayal. As if to bring her point home, halfway along the fourth floor corridor and only twenty feet away from the Charms classroom, one of the supposed 'dozen' presented himself.
"Astoria!" cried a voice, causing her to stop and cast her eyes haltingly about the busy hallway. Behind a cluster of Hufflepuff fourth years, Cormac McLaggen appeared, pointing and waving enthusiastically.
Tracey chuckled. Her eyes danced smugly past Cormac toward the Charms classroom, but she held back, content to linger.
"Hello, Cormac," Astoria sighed, eyeing the staircase behind him longingly. "I was just on my way to Ancient Runes..."
"Wait a second," commanded Cormac. His arm jutted out instinctively to prevent her from getting away. "Have you talked to you dad about New Years?"
Astoria had not, nor was she especially curious. Now that George was working on Mr. MacLaggen's patent case full time, there was a very good chance that Cormac spoke to him more regularly than she did.
"No," admitted Astoria, trying not to purse her lips. "Listen, I'm going to be late. I've got to—"
"The board for the Control of Magical Creatures is having a New Years get-together with the board of Saint Mungo's," explained Cormac in a pompous rush. He drew in a deep breath, inflating in a way that blocked her path entirely. "Technically, they're calling it a charity garden gala."
Hosting a garden party in December struck Astoria as more than a little stupid, but that did not seem to be Cormac's point.
"In any case, they're holding the event at my house," he went on importantly. "Father's marketing the new potion line towards the hospital, you know. I'm surprised George hasn't mentioned it..."
"He's been busy, I'd imagine," Astoria shrugged, pulling her hair out from under the strap of her bag. "Listen, Ancient Runes is on the sixth floor, so—"
"Oh, right," returned Cormac dismissively, still showing no signs of moving to make way. "Only, I thought you would want to go with me. It makes sense, doesn't it? Father's year has been a success; your father managed all the legalities for the potion line. Why not go together—keep the team tight, eh?"
Astoria could tell by Cormac's expression that he fully expected her to be flattered. The expectation annoyed her. In his eyes, an offer of inclusion into his family circle was clearly incapable of being met by anything other than delight.
"Oh, but I can't!" Astoria sighed falsely, reaching for the first convenient excuse. "I'll be in France!"
Astoria could see Tracey making faces out of the corner of her eye, but she studiously pretended not to notice.
"I'm sure that's why my father didn't mention it, come to think of it," Astoria pressed on, ignoring Cormac's rumpled brow. "He knew I wouldn't be able to go!"
"What's in France?" scoffed Cormac, thrown by such an unexpected and off-putting answer.
"Old family friends," Astoria returned, biting back her relief in order to impart a kinder impression of disappointment.
"Well," muttered Cormac begrudgingly, backtracking. "No matter. St. Mungo's is bound to buy the product line. There will be other parties..."
"I'm sure," agreed Astoria quickly.
"I won't let you slip away a third time!" he continued jauntily, disguising his irritability. "Next time I'll ask before you can make any other plans! Then you'll have to come!"
Astoria waited for Cormac to retreat, her lips stretched into a paper-thin smile. "Wouldn't count on it," she muttered darkly once she perceived that he was finally out of earshot.
Tracey laughed but her expression was chastising. "Why did you do that? You know full well that you'll be back before New Years. You said so this morning."
"Hah!" burst Astoria contemptuously, shaking her head. "Haven't you heard? When it comes to a McLaggen party, I'm never in the country."
Tracey clucked.
"I'm late, see you in Arithmancy!"
0o0
"You shouldn't have said no," insisted Tracey at the end of the hour, rejoining her for the short walk up to Professor Vector's classroom. "The party is at Cormac's house. It'll be really rude for you to change your mind if someone else asks you."
"It's just one party," Astoria argued. "There'll be dozens of others."
"Probably, but Cormac's party is bound to be the biggest of the season," huffed Tracey intolerantly. "His father's got Control of Magical Creatures and St. Mungo's coming! That's a lot of important people—nobody worth seeing will go anywhere else."
"The biggest party of the season?" remarked Theodore, joining them for the final steps up the flight of stairs.
"The Charity Garden Gala—or whatever nonsense they're calling it—for the St. Mungo's board on New Years," supplied Tracey breathlessly. "Astoria says she's not going, only I'm going to do whatever it takes to get an invite. I think it sounds perfect!"
Astoria was surprised to see a look of recognition flit across his features.
"My father was invited to that," he admitted. "It's got something to do with the board on creatures, doesn't it?"
"What does your father have to do with the board on creatures?" scoffed Tracey carelessly.
"He likes to hunt," answered Theodore stiffly, affronted.
"See!" cried Tracey. "Even Theodore's family was invited!"
"What's Theodore been invited to?" drawled Draco Malfoy, interrupting their conversation from behind. "Joined a book club, have you, Nott?"
"No," leveled Tracey, winding herself back up, "he's been invited to the St. Mungo's Charity Garden—"
"Please don't say it again," Astoria interrupted desperately. "It's the McLaggen's New Years party, Malfoy. Theodore and his dad are going and Tracey's desperate for a date."
Tracey did not even have the good grace to look ashamed.
"Oh, right," Draco drawled disinterestedly, "everyone is going to that. Of course, Father thinks MacLaggen is only hosting it to get in good with the board of directors before his potions hit the market."
Tracey let out an impatient noise; she was not interested in politics and Draco was threatening to move the conversation away from the topic of Astoria's stupidity.
"Then again, Father would know," continued Malfoy lazily. "He's one of the hospital's top benefactors. You wouldn't believe the things that people tell him in private..."
"Not everyone is going," interrupted Tracey loudly. "Astoria isn't—she's pretending to be in France."
"I'm actually going to France!" Astoria burst, afraid of provoking Malfoy's curiosity.
"But you told me you were coming back before New Years!" rejoined Theodore, sounding angry and panicked. "I thought you were just going to be gone a week! The only way I'm going to this stupid party is if we go together."
Draco laughed unpleasantly.
"Why in the world would she want to go with you, Nott?" he drawled and then turned toward Astoria. "Wasn't your father invited? I thought he was handling McLaggen's patent law?"
"Mhm," Astoria grunted noncommittally.
"Not that it matters," scoffed Tracey bitterly. "She can't go at all now because Cormac just asked her to go with him and she lied to get out of it. She said she'd be out of the country."
"Not just busy?" quipped Theo, betraying his first ghost of a smile. "You needed an ocean between you?"
"It was stupid, wasn't it?" continued Tracey, misinterpreting Theodore's amusement.
The classroom doors opened and the line began to shuffle forward. Malfoy pushed in front of Tracey in order to reclaim the seat that she had stolen from him the week before; he dropped his bag on the table pointedly.
"You'd call that stupid, Davis?" he sneered. "I'd call call it entirely reasonable."
"What, you don't like McLaggen now?" wondered Tracey, eyelashes fluttering. "I'm shocked."
Tracey shifted quickly into Astoria's usual seat, leaving the chair next to the window that nobody wanted vacant.
"Their whole family is ridiculous," insisted Malfoy, so loudly and nastily that he gave the impression of fighting an argument that nobody had even started. "You wouldn't catch me dead in public with McLaggen's sister!"
"If he had one," muttered Theodore quietly, but Astoria laughed.
For the first time in a long time, Malfoy's tendency to be cruel was capable of pleasing her. She did not at all appreciate Tracey's scolding attitude and she was already tired of being told that she had made a mistake in refusing Cormac. The McLaggens could not offer her anything that she wanted; therefore she felt perfectly at ease—even happily content—to mock them.
"They really are ridiculous," Astoria agreed and Malfoy caught her eye, looking immensely gratified. "His Father gets featured in the paper every year for his highland fling—last year he made the front page of the society section wearing a kilt."
"His father's favorite sport is tossing grown men into the air," jeered Draco, increasingly satisfied by Astoria's unusual willingness to agree with him. "If that doesn't tell you everything you need to know about Cormac, then I don't know what will."
"They're such an old family, though!" insisted Tracey, narrowing her eyes. "Just because they're Scottish doesn't mean they're ridiculous. I still think you should have said yes, Astoria."
"I don't think I've ever met anyone as pompous as Cormac, either," continued Draco, effecting an attitude of supreme confidence that he generally reserved for the company of people like Crabbe and Goyle (who never disagreed with him)."I don't know where he gets off talking about himself the way he does—you'd think he was descended from Merlin."
Theodore's mouth literally sagged, rendered mute by the height of Draco's hypocrisy.
"Really!" Astoria snorted loudly, hoping to prevent Theodore from interjecting. "You should have heard him earlier! What did he say when he was asking me to the party, Tracey? Something like 'I thought you would want to go with me'?"
Tracey snickered despite herself, allowing the truth of Cormac's of poor manners. Draco, on the other hand, did not laugh; in fact, he looked suddenly and genuinely annoyed.
"It was like he thought I'd been waiting for him ask," Astoria continued, chuckling at little at the recollection. "The look on his face—I swear, he thought he was doing me a favor— like he was putting me out of my misery by getting around to it at last."
"You shouldn't have bothered lying," spat Draco repressively. "You should have turned him down hard. Why should you care about sparing his ego?"
"Because people who are full of themselves all need to be taught a lesson, Malfoy?" Theodore demanded scathingly, reaching his limit.
"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Draco, eyes narrowing.
"Only that Cormac McLaggen isn't the only bloke I know who thinks terribly well of himself," returned Theodore.
A dangerous silence descended.
"Yeah?" sneered Malfoy softly, summoning the full force of his arctic glare. "Maybe I do think well of myself, Nott, but at least I have a reason to."
"Do you, though?" returned Theodore lightly, but he was playing with fire. "What exactly is it that makes you so much better than MacLaggen? I'm genuinely curious."
"Oh, Theo, I've just realized!" exclaimed Astoria, anxious to defuse their argument before it became violent. "Why don't you take Tracey to the party? She wants to go and you haven't asked anybody."
Tracey quirked an eyebrow and swiveled about to stare at Theodore pleadingly.
"I haven't even decided if I'm going!" Theodore jolted, looking very put on the spot. He jabbed a thumb at Malfoy. "Why doesn't Tracey just go with the King of Wiltshire over there?"
Tracey seamlessly shifted her persistent eyes onto Draco. If she was at all embarrassed about being passed around like an unwanted hand-me-down, she did not show it.
"I'm going with my father," scoffed Draco, sneering in a way that suggested that he found the prospect of having Tracey for a tag-along faintly heinous. "I'm not taking anybody. I doubt my father will even want to stay until midnight—which certainly proves how much he thinks of McLaggen."
"Your father's not boycotting the event, though, is he?" pressed Theo astutely. "I mean, he's still going, so it's not as if he thinks MacLaggen is totally worthless. He obviously feels that he ought to attend."
Malfoy's expression soured. His arm twitched beneath the table, betraying a quiet desire to make heavy contact with the back of Theo's head. Thankfully, Professor Vector chose this moment to arrive and, amidst the flurry of fresh assignments, their argument was soon forgotten.
Astoria sighed unhappily and turned over her new booklet of worksheets. The first page was dotted with a series of mathematical equations in need of translation—yet another failing grade in the making. For a long while the only sound that punctuated the silence was the rustling of book pages. Then, gradually, because the lesson was not a lecture, talk began to break out again.
"Really, Theo," Tracey whispered over her Latin dictionary. "If you're going to the New Years party, I want to come with you!"
"That's got to be a first for you, Theodore," leered Draco cruelly, staring down his nose at the first equation.
"I'm not sure my dad will want to go," Theodore insisted, reddening. "It's a lot holiday cheer for him—"
"Too many normal people, you mean?" countered Draco nastily.
"Oh, take her, Theo!" hissed Astoria, risking a covert peek at Malfoy's assignment to check his answer against her own (they weren't the same). "You can make fun of stupid people and get drunk together. I'm sure you'll have a lovely time!"
"Exactly!" agreed Tracey.
Theodore peered distractedly at his work.
"Alright," he conceded at last, "but only if my father decides to go. I'm serious when I say that he might not."
Tracey squeaked delightedly. To Theodore's increasing horror, she gave his arm an affectionate squeeze.
"Astoria's right," she exclaimed, releasing his robes to clap her hands (Theodore promptly tucked his limbs against his sides). "We'll have a lovely time—much better than she will, hiding out and wasting her looks and charm by ignoring the rest of the world!"
"Astoria Greengrass," muttered Theodore, shooting her a very irate look, "recluse and pimp."
"It's going to be the best mix of people!" waxed Tracey, sounding a little too much like Pansy for Astoria's taste. "McLaggen is a judge, so we'll have prominent politicians to poke fun of. Oh, and McLaggen's mother knows some of the most famous people in the fashion world..."
Astoria paused, her quill hovering inches above her her parchment.
"What people in the fashion world?" she heard herself ask—dimly, as if from afar.
"Oh, I don't know," scoffed Tracey, waving aside the need for specifics. "She's quite fond of the Italian line, isn't she? I heard someone say that she was..."
Astoria's blood momentarily ran cold. There was only one Italian wizard that she could think of with enough clout to be treated as a celebrity. Was it possible?
"Giambattista Valli?" suggested Astoria, her tone so low and rife with regret that came out sounding like a gurgle.
"That's the one, isn't it?" agreed Tracey affably.
"Tracey Davis," Astoria deadpanned, "are you telling me that Giambattista Valli is going to the MacLaggen's New Years party and you never thought to tell me?"
It was a tense moment. Tracey shifted uncomfortably.
"Who's Giambattista Valli?" scoffed Theodore, registering the look of horror on Astoria's face with genuine bewilderment.
"He's a famous designer, Theodore," jeered Draco witheringly. And then to Astoria: "He made my mother's wedding dress, you know. Before that sort of thing was common for him."
"I bet he did," spat Astoria."He's pretty much the most influential designer of the century! He's a total recluse—even Aston Mendel has to book him in advance! You knew this?"
Her breath skittered. A canyon of ill-timing and poor luck now separated her from the chance to meet one of her childhood idols—and the distance pained her. Intolerant as she was of Cormac's jocular conversation and groping eyes, there was no doubt in her mind that she would have accepted him if she had known that his mother was friends with Giambattista Valli.
"I told you important people would be going," Tracey snorted.
"There is a difference between 'important people' and 'world famous fashion designers'!" Astoria snapped back illogically.
Malfoy spared her a look of irritation, but it wasn't enough to shake the regret from her features.
"I told you!" argued Tracey defensively. "But then you said, 'when it comes to a MacLaggen party, I'm always out of the country'—" (Theodore laughed spasmodically) "—and huffed off to Ancient Runes!"
"You let me give you Theodore!" Astoria gasped. "You let me turn down McLaggen and hand you my backup date—and all the while you were sitting on bloody Giambattista Valli?"
"Because you would have went with McLaggen if you'd known?" sneered Malfoy indignantly.
"Of course I would have went with him!" Astoria shrilled, beginning to feel real fury at herself. "I'd go to the party with Snape if it meant that I'd get to meet Giambattista Valli!"
Malfoy twitched away from Astoria with an injured sneer, but Theodore chucked and muttered: "Ah, Gryffindors. Always upholding the moral code and never giving in to baser instincts like shallowness. How the mighty have fallen..."
"Shut up," hissed Astoria, flushing.
"I'll still take you," Theodore snorted, trying very hard not to laugh.
"No you won't," Astoria jeered resentfully. "You're taking Tracey now—remember?"
"Fine," sniffed Theodore and his eyes twitched with bizarre swiftness toward Draco. "Beg Malfoy if you're so desperate. He's already told us he's not taking anybody."
"Malfoy's going with his dad and a glass of male-bonding scotch!" dismissed Astoria savagely.
Beside her, Draco gave a half-hearted sneer. The disgust he felt about her shift in attitude toward Cormac did not entirely conceal the flustered agitation he obvious felt about the prospect of Astoria begging him for something that he had the power to withhold. For a second, she almost wondered whether—horror of horrors!—there was more potential in him than she realized; that he actually probably would take her to the party if she pleaded him to.
"Besides," Astoria went on, somehow even more aggravated, "I can't go with anybody else. The party's at McLaggen's house."
"That would be hilariously rude, wouldn't it?" Tracey drawled.
Astoria swore.
"Crawl back to Cormac then," sniffed Draco coldly. "I'm sure he'll still have you."
"I can't do that, I'd look ridiculous," muttered Astoria, thinking hard. "I'll just have to have to trick him into asking me again..."
Tracey's eyes sparkled at this bit of feminine wisdom.
"What's that?" choked Theodore. "Murphy's Rules of Battle for the insane?"
"Well, I mean, obviously he's loathsome," Astoria allowed. "Only I can't exactly tell him that I've changed my mind and decided that I'm willing to put up with him to in order to meet his mother's dinner guest, can I?"
Draco pushed Astoria's Latin text away from his elbow, suddenly repulsed by every bit of her proximity.
"It's a strange relief to know that you can be bought," mused Tracey pensively. "I was starting to worry."
"Who knew that reclusive dressmakers were such a soft spot for anyone?" offered Theodore, unmoved by her plight.
Astoria scowled. She hated this image of herself, but she could not seem to let go of her disappointment: the desire to backtrack into McLaggen's willing arms was overwhelming.
"Oh!" jolted Tracey. A small frown of recollection darkened her expression. "But you can't trick Cormac into asking you again!
"Why not?" Astoria countered, privately feeling that, once she set aside her own conscience, there was really no reason she shouldn't be able to regain him. McLaggen had already asked her out once; why not twice?
"Because he asked Parvati in the hall after you turned him down," answered Tracey, smiling wistfully. "You may have been his first choice, but you weren't his final line and Parvati's dad is a healer at St. Mungo's."
Theodore laughed gleefully, but Astoria simply stared at her Arithmancy sheet and offered no retort.
If Cormac had already asked somebody else then she had reached the end of the line. Even now, Parvati was probably excitedly planning out her evening clothes. It was hardly Astoria's place to manipulate the circumstances and rob her of the chance to attend a fabulous party...
Or was it?
Astoria hastily re-inked her barren quill, struggling internally with this moral dilemma. She tried to focus on her work, but the effort was in vain; a treacherous commentary had taken hold of her mind, urging her to see the idea through. Reluctantly, she began to take stock of the scenario:
Cormac had probably only asked Parvati because her father worked at Saint Mungo's; therefore, there was no reason to assume that Cormac had any real romantic feelings for her, nor she for him. And if Astoria moved quickly, Parvati might still manage to find somebody else to go with...
It would be rude, certainly, to put Parvati off that way—and surely Cormac would want to avoid any unpleasantness? There was even a very good chance that he would not be open to the discussion. Still, despite her aunt's frequent allusions to the contrary, Astoria was actually quite capable of persuasive charm. She had turned him down twice now; perhaps, through some mixture of ego and misplaced vanity, he would still jump if the opportunity to have her presented itself?
Shaking her head to dislodge her thoughts, Astoria glanced sideways at Draco's parchment. Malfoy made a half noise of disgust and brought his arm up to block her view. Apparently, her cheating was only acceptable when she was agreeing with him.
0o0
That evening, Astoria lingered near the common room fire with Fred and George a good deal longer than she might normally have done in order to watch Cormac McLaggen covertly.
It was not a particularly interesting employment, watching Cormac. He was animated with his friends—and from afar he almost appeared winning—but she was not sitting quite far enough away to avoid hearing bits and pieces of this conversation; at best he was aggravating and at worst he was simply rude.
Meanwhile, beside her on the hearth rug, Fred was busy constructing a tower out of cards. He threw Astoria a hasty glance over his paper ramparts.
"What's with you?" he wondered. "You're awfully quiet."
Across the room, Cormac turned his smiling head and revealed how boxy it was.
"I'm thinking," she grimaced.
"About what?" called George from a nearby armchair. Fred had banned him from construction after knocking over one of the card towers. As a result, he no longer had anything to do with his hands and he was eager to gossip.
"Boys," Astoria admitted honestly, repressing a foolish grin.
"And which boy in particular would you happen to be thinking about so determinedly?" smirked Fred.
Astoria snorted: "A square one."
"Ah?" quirked Fred."Well, the lady of my dreams lusts after a Hufflepuff, so I don't suppose I'm the one to ask for romantic advice these days."
"Still no luck with Angelina, then?" Astoria chuckled sympathetically.
"No, her loins burn only for the man in yellow with the perfect hair," sighed Fred dramatically, testing a foundation card with his pinkie finger. "Seriously, though, which boy are we talking about? You're adorable, Astoria—I can't see you having much trouble shaking up dates."
"Cormac McLaggen," she supplied at once, privately amused by the disgust she knew this answer would inspire.
"Cormac?" repeated Fred and his face promptly twisted into a scowl. "He's a little prick! What do you want with him?"
"Giambattista Valli," she sighed, thoroughly enjoying their looks of nonplussed confusion.
"What's that?" grunted George. "A foreign peninsula?"
"Whatever it is, you don't want it with Cormac," warned Fred, lowering his voice. "For a start he's a towering idiot. Beyond that, from what Katie says, I reckon he's also a bit of a pervert."
"Really?" breathed Astoria.
"He's pushy," agreed George. "He took Katie to Hogsmeade once and spent the whole time trying to separate her from her friends or push her into a pub seat."
Astoria's spirits soared. Illogical though it was, the news that Cormac was a rude, potential sex offender cleared up several issues for her. Most importantly, it assuaged her of the guilt she might have otherwise felt for attempting to steal him away from Parvati.
"Interesting," she muttered, playing with the ends of her hair to hide her eyes.
0o0
Several hours passed before the twins gave up on their card castle and went to bed: Astoria waited for them both to mount the staircase before she made a move of any kind. After all, it was one thing to trick Cormac McLaggen into re-asking her to a party, but it was quite another to do so in front of an audience.
At nearly eleven o'clock, Cormac finally stood up. Yawning and nodding, he gave Jack Sloper (a thick-skulled and much disliked boy in Fred and George's year) a sporting slap on the back. Judging this to be her moment, Astoria got to her feet, determined to intercept him before he reached the dormitories.
She was just trying to summon a good opening line when Kenneth Towler bounded upright and threw his sweater over his shoulder, catching her full in the face with a woolen sleeve.
"Hallo, Astoria!" called Kenneth, glancing hastily over his shoulder. "Didn't see you!"
Blinking back tears, Astoria could do no more than nod and attempt to catch Cormac's gaze with her one good eye.
"It was my fault!" she insisted, blotting her watery cheeks. She smiled cheerfully at McLaggen between her fingers.
"Don't mind Ken!" exclaimed Cormac confidently, shoving his friend aside. "He's always looking for a reason to make a lady cry!"
"Shit, that's really watering..." muttered Kenneth fearfully.
Astoria forced a shrug and tilted her head back toward the ceiling.
"Here, let me look," insisted Cormac bossily. Taking hold of her by the shoulders, he flagged Jack and Ken toward the dormitory without him. Astoria dutifully remained where she was, suddenly certain that Cormac probably had an annoying habit of taking charge of things that were none of his business.
"Move your hand," he ordered firmly, probing her with his self-assured and patronizing eyes.
Astoria blinked rapidly, trying to clear away tears; finally, she moved her fingers away.
"Look up again," continued Cormac, possibly following the protocol of a first aid procedure he had once read and half-forgotten.
Astoria looked up, wondering just how much she was willing to suffer by her own hand.
"It's only irritated," pronounced Cormac, "probably because Ken's sweater hit it."
It took every ounce of her self-possession not to reply sarcastically.
"I'm sure you're right," she finally managed, brushing her eyelashes to absorb damp mascara. "It already feels better."
Cormac leaned against the armrest of a chair, shot her a wistful half smile and chuckled. "Wouldn't want to see you go blind a week before the holiday!"
The common room was nearly deserted now. A log cracked in the fire; Colin and Dennis Creevey were working at a table in the far corner, but they were paying Astoria and Cormac's conversation no mind. Snow—which had fallen softly all day—now mounded in great banks along the windowsills.
"I talked to my father today," Astoria lied, eager to prevent his attention from wandering. She began to sway playfully from one foot to the other. "Of course, it turns out I will be in England for New Years."
Cormac's eyes were busy watching the sway of her hips, but at these words, he suddenly became more alert. "Oh?"
"Of course!" sighed Astoria teasingly. "It's just like me to mix up traveling dates."
Despite the fact that she was luring him into a minor trap, it was still the most she had ever willingly flirted with him. He sensed the invitation in her tone immediately.
"So you can come to the party?" he double-checked. "You won't be in France?"
"I'll be home two days before," Astoria laughed, doing her best to insinuate that the whole scenario was a simple—if faintly inconvenient—mistake.
"Of course, I know you've had the whole day to make new plans," she continued. "I suppose you've replaced me?"
Cormac blinked. Poorly disguised cunning danced behind his features as he weighed her sudden availability against his pre-existing engagement with Parvati.
Somehow sure that this hesitation was a sign of potential, Astoria decided to introduce a bit of manly competition.
"Theodore Nott and his father are going," she mused. "He's a friend of mine—perhaps he'll let me tag along. I'm sure my father will be busy."
"Oh, well, I mean," Cormac spluttered half heartedly. "I wouldn't ask you to do that."
"Or maybe Malfoy," continued Astoria, trying for a better adversary. "Sure, he's not very nice, but I'm sure he's going."
A nervy pang shot through her limbs. She wasn't sure what had induced her to use Draco's name, but she was certain that she never wanted him to find out that she had done it. Theodore, although infinitely preferable, was not especially impressive—at least, not by Cormac's standards. Malfoy, on the other hand, came from a family that possessed great political influence and even greater fortune. And these were the traits that she knew had the power to touch Cormac's giant ego.
"Never!" scoffed Cormac, looking impressively nettled. "Lucius's Malfoy's son? I'd sooner send you with wolves! Come with me."
"Then you haven't asked anyone else?" Astoria demanded, perversely compelled to make McLaggen at least admit that he was standing Parvati up.
"No, well, that is—I did tell someone that we were having a party," mumbled McLaggen evasively. "It doesn't matter. You'll be my date?"
"Of course," Astoria beamed.
"And you won't end up staying in France?" he teased.
"Of course not," Astoria laughed, eyes narrowing. Not as long as Giambattista Valli makes dresses.
0o0
The snow continued to gain in strength throughout the night. By the time Astoria awoke the next morning, there was a foot of white powder visible covering the grounds.
She dressed in a rush, filled with vague desire to avoid seeing Parvati, pulling on stockings and piling her hair up high into a regretfully lazy mess.
Theodore was drinking his morning coffee over a newspaper when she arrived in the Great Hall.
"What's the state of the nation?" Astoria chirped, grabbing hold of the coffee urn.
"Sirius Black is still on the loose. Have you heard?" returned Theo with a wry grin. "Still armed and dangerous. Why do you reckon they always say that? Don't they snap your wand in half when they send you to the Dementors?"
"I would think they must," Astoria frowned.
"Then how is he armed?" pressed Theodore, lowering the paper. "How does an escaped convict come by a wand? Do you suppose he mugged another wizard barehanded and left him alive to report the robbery—because I don't."
"He might have broken into a magical residence," suggested Astoria, taking a larger gulp of her scalding coffee than she meant to, distracted Theodore's rapid fire questions. "He wouldn't have to risk disarming anyone that way. Or maybe he's a secret wand-maker disguised as a mass murderer."
"Indeed," Theodore concluded, folding up his copy of the Prophet and tucking it under a plate.
"They should hire us for the Auror office," chuckled Astoria, tapping his coffee mug with her cookie. "We'd be the crack team that foils every evil plan."
Theodore snorted and gazed up at the enchanted ceiling: it showed a white cacophony of snow flurries.
"Do you think they'll cancel Care of Magical Creatures?" he asked hopefully.
"No," Astoria snorted. "I think Hagrid's more likely to introduce us to a Yeti."
Much to her predicted disappointment, she turned out to be quite right about one thing: Hagrid did not cancel on account of poor weather. After lunch, she and Theodore set off across the grounds, waist deep in snow and complaining fiercely.
"If we're actually studying the Yeti, I'm staging a protest," Theodore shivered, pulling his bare fingers deeper into his sleeves.
"I won't," Astoria snorted.
"Yeah," relented Theodore. "Wouldn't want to miss Malfoy being bludgeoned by Bigfoot. I suppose his father would try to have the blizzard sacked next..."
Hooting with laughter, they came down the final slope and found themselves greeted by the surprising (and very reassuring) sight of a large bonfire. Theodore sucked in a breath and loosened his fists.
Half of the class was already assembled around the fire. Pushing eagerly toward the blaze, Theodore greedily extended his cold fingers toward the smoldering embers. Astoria removed her mittens to do the same, but paused when something on the end of a log moved of its own volition.
"Salamanders!" exclaimed Theodore, leaning closer than Astoria would have dared. "Look—you can see their tails!"
The lesson was exceedingly simple: their only task was to keep the fire burning until the bell rang. Barring the occasional jaunt into the forest to collect wood, there really wasn't much to do but sit about and watch the flames.
"They're sort of nice, aren't they?" allowed Tracey, squinting toward the hottest patch of coals. Several amphibians were basking there, jewel-bright and glimmering.
"I prefer a fire to be less infested, thanks," sneered Draco Malfoy from a nearby log.
Astoria could sort of see his point. The Salamanders were almost charming—so long as they remained bathed in flame. Truthfully, though, the notion of a hundred fork-tongued creatures nesting was almost enough to make her prickle with revulsion.
"Excuse me," said Parvati in a rough voice, elbowing past Astoria with an armful of sticks.
A long spindly branch snagged Astoria's stockings and she yelped without meaning to. Lavender shot her an embarrassed and shuffled along in Parvati's wake.
"That was rude," exclaimed Tracey, turning to stare. Parvati tossed her armful sticks into the hellish blaze and slapped her hands together unapologetically. She turned and shot Astoria a hard look before trudging off into the woods again.
"Ooh," whispered Tracey gleefully. "You didn't."
Astoria shrugged, perfectly unwilling to discuss her dealings with Cormac in front of Theodore—or, indeed, anywhere in broad daylight.
"Oy, Brown!" called Tracey, unable to leave well enough along. Astoria's insides squirmed.
Lavender eyed Tracey warily but allowed her to catch up. "Yeah?"
"What was that about?" sneered Tracey. "Your mate just gouged Astoria."
"It was nothing," Astoria cut in hastily. "Forget about it..."
Nearby, Draco had stopped tossing snowballs into the fire with Crabbe and Goyle. Out of the corner of her eye, Astoria could not help but notice that he had angled his torso to eavesdrop.
"Yeah," sighed Lavender. "Sorry about that, Astoria. It's not really your fault, you know."
"What does she think Astoria did?" asked Tracey, but her confusion betrayed an odd aspect of anticipation—as though she was fully expecting to be amused by Lavender's answer rather than annoyed.
"It's stupid," warned Lavender, glancing over both shoulders to check that they were alone.
"Don't worry about it," Astoria insisted sullenly. "I don't care. We can drop it."
"I mean, I'd like to tell you, of course," Lavender tumbled on dramatically. "Only I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"She's not uncomfortable," declared Tracey.
"Well," Lavender hesitated. "I mean, I know you've said that you'll go to that party with Cormac, Astoria. Only the thing is, he'd already asked Parvati when he asked you."
Tracey's eyes slid sidelong to leer at the side of Astoria's face.
"It's not your fault, of course," dismissed Lavender primly. "It's obviously Cormac's! I do hope this won't ruin anything, though—hearing that he's been double-timing the both of you, that is!"
"Hmm," drawled Tracey in tones of enviable sarcasm. "Isn't that wild."
"I—yeah, I guess?" shrugged Lavender uncertainly, thrown by Tracey's creeping leer. "Listen, I should help Parvati carry wood..."
She scuttled off toward her friend's stooping figure below the snow-heavy trees.
"Astoria!" hissed Theodore.
Astoria jumped. She had't heard him come up behind them, but now that she saw him, she perceived that he was flushed with disappointment and disgust.
"Tell me everything!" exclaimed Tracey, looking far more amused than affronted.
"There's nothing to tell," Astoria murmured evasively, furiously conscious of Draco's angled shoulders. "I can't help what Cormac McLaggen does with himself."
"Nonsense!" Tracey derided merrily. "He already had a date and he thought you were in France for the holiday!"
"I may have casually mentioned that I would be back before the New Year," Astoria shrugged. "That's all."
"Lies!" cried Tracey, letting loose an adamant little laugh. "You walked out of Arithmancy with an agenda and nothing you say will convince me otherwise."
Astoria picked up a twig and began to twirl it.
"You'll have a miserable time at that part and it'll serve you right," sniffed Theodore coldly.
"How do you figure?" scoffed Tracey.
"Not only is she going with someone she hates, she's stolen another girl's date to do it!" Theodore growled.
"It's not as though Parvati's his girlfriend!" Astoria sneered, overrun by the need to justify herself. She dropped the twig. "Besides, Fred and George say McLaggen's a real predator, anyway. I'm probably sparing her the worst night of her life."
Theodore's lips puckered. It looked as though he had a thing or two to say about this piece of news, but after a moment's hesitation, he thought the better of it and simply shook his head.
"Tell me the truth!" Tracey whispered as they made their way back up the snowy path after class. "I want details!"
"There are no details," said Astoria gravely, determined to play dumb.
"Of course there are details!" Tracey hissed excitedly. Dropping her voice even further, she peered down the path behind them and caught Astoria's elbow.
"Come on!" she whined. "Theodore is miles behind us—he can't hear you. Fess up!"
"What do you want me to say?" Astoria scowled. "You want me to admit that I tracked McLaggen down and tricked him into taking me? Fine. I cornered him last night before I went to bed."
"That's it?" scoffed Tracey. "It was that easy?"
"Not really," Astoria grumbled darkly. "I had to take in in the eye to get him alone."
Tracey tripped over her feet and her mouth sagged with delight.
"With a sweater, Tracey," Astoria clarified at once. She brought a hand up and mimed the motion of a flopping sleeve."I got hit in the eye with Kenneth Towler's sweater sleeve."
"Oh," Tracey droned, looking very disappointed. "I thought you meant that—"
"I know what you thought I meant," Astoria scoffed, half amused and half offended.
"So—what?" pried Tracey, fishing for more. "You squinted at him ferociously until he felt compelled to ask you out on a second date?"
This time Astoria's laugh was genuine.
"No, I made up some bogus story about getting my traveling dates wrong," she admitted.
"And we all know that there's nothing men love more than flighty woman," sighed Tracey, looping her arm through Astoria's to hop across a slushy puddle.
"He never mentioned Parvati, though?" she continued, finding stable footing. "What a scab."
"Oh, I distracted him," Astoria frowned, thinking it over. "I told him I was going to find someone else to go with, so he offered himself up out of desperation."
"That was clever," Tracey cackled wickedly. "Who did you threaten to go with?"
Astoria shrugged awkwardly. "Nobody. I don't know. I reckon Fred and George are right—McLaggen's just looking for the stupidest date he can find and I had flightiness on my side."
They had reached the front doors. Astoria paused to pull off her mittens and stuff them in her bag.
"At least you'll be there too," she confessed. "I may need you to help me lock him up in one of his own closets if he gets too fresh."
"If you're not planning on going inside any time today," snapped a cold voice directly behind them, "then would you mind getting out of the way?"
Astoria jumped, surprised and bizarrely embarrassed to discover Draco Malfoy on the steps behind her.
She slid down into the snow to give Crabbe, Goyle and Draco room to barge past them. For a split second, Malfoy locked eyes with her in punishing silence. If the wintry sneer on his face was anything to go by, she knew that it was very lucky indeed that she had not mentioned the fact that she had used his name to nettle Cormac.
"Was he behind us the whole time?" asked Astoria quietly.
Tracey shrugged, but something about her expression seemed to betray the truth.
"Tracey!" hissed Astoria, conscious of a blush rising in her cheeks. "You looked behind us to check where Theodore was. You must have known they were there! Why did you let me go on like that?"
"Why not?" Tracey shrugged again, dismissive but for the odd sparkle in her eye. "What's the big deal? It's kind of funny, really."
"It's not funny," hissed Astoria. "Draco's going to that stupid party too! What if he says something in front of Cormac?"
"If you're always going to be afraid of what Draco might say about you, you've got a long four years left at Hogwarts," she snorted.
Astoria followed Tracey into the hall, unable to shake the horrible feeling that she had just been tricked.
"What purpose did that serve?" she demanded.
"I don't know," ventured Tracey cautiously. "I guess I was just curious to see what he would do."
"What were the odds that he was going to do something nice, though?" Astoria pressed, beyond irritated.
"Oh, honestly!" Tracey huffed. "What do you care? If anything you should be flattered by how annoyed he was. He's not going to say anything in front of Cormac—if he did, he'd have to admit that he eavesdropped and then ruined your date on purpose! It was a just a bit of fun!"
Astoria balked, unconvinced that Malfoy would be so picky when it came down to making her feel uncomfortable in public.
"Want to take dinner to the library?" suggested Tracey, edging toward the great hall. "I think I see grilled sandwiches. Those are easy to carry in a napkin."
"Sure," Astoria conceded at last. "Whatever, as long as you help me with my Arithmancy."
0o0
Man, that Tracey. She's kind of basic but she's surely not stupid.
So Cormac's back, y'all and living the dream of finally getting Astoria to go to one of his family parties.
Speaking of parties, it occurs to me that, while we don't see a lot of that sort of thing in the actual series, Astoria, Draco and Theodore all come from backgrounds of various wealth and tradition. It seems highly likely to me that formal events would be a regular (and often probably dreadful) part of their lives. The days of sulking about in bedrooms during dinner parties are over. So stay tuned! I've broken the party into two chapters (but there will still be one more post in between to close up before the holiday).