Chapter Thirty Seven
Dragon Eggs
0o0
The First Task was scheduled for the following Tuesday. Astoria spent a large part of her weekend adding up potential bets and then fixing the numbers again as new wagers poured in. The final count continued to grow at a staggering speed until Astoria, quite apart from feeling victorious, began to feel almost sick.
Between the bets from Hogwarts students and the various other arrangements that Fred and George had secured through mysterious mail sources, the sum total that Astoria and the twins had riding on the match had grown upward, shooting past Astoria's wildest expectations toward a sum of four thousand galleons. This meant that, in turn, Astoria was also betting this same outstanding amount of gold back against Ragnuk the goblin.
On the one hand, it was an impressive bit of business that they had achieved. On the other, as Astoria was becoming increasingly more aware, it also meant that if Harry did not finish in at least second place on Tuesday, Astoria was set to owe nearly nine thousand galleons to the world. This was a truth made even more ludicrous by the fact that Astoria did not have nine thousand galleons or, indeed, a proper backup plan to deploy in the case of Harry's defeat.
Fred and George, upon reading over Astoria's ledger, expressed some fear of their own.
"You're kidding," said George hollowly, torn between excitement and terror.
"What do we do, if we lose?" asked Fred quietly.
"I don't know, become indentured servants?" suggested Astoria dully. "Or maybe prostitutes? I don't suppose you need to pass your N.E.W.T's to do either..."
"Hate to be the one to say it," muttered George under his breath, "but I don't think any of us are worth that much."
0o0
On the night before the First Task, Alec and Maudlin made plans to meet up by the lake.
The evening was a crisp one. Astoria, bundled up in thick cloak, inhaled every breath on her way across the grounds with a particular awareness, unable to shake the macabre idea that it might be the last cool, fall night that she would experience before being murdered by goblins. After all, Astoria did not know what goblins did to people who did not pay them, but she suspected the fact that she and the twins were still legally children would not stop Ragnuk from cheerfully beating them to death.
Alec and Maudlin were on the end of the dock near the boathouse and, even from a distance, it appeared that they were hosting a larger crowd than they normally did.
The tall, athletically built figure of a female in Beauxbatons robes warned Astoria that Maudlin had brought his quiet girlfriend, Emilie, at long last. The familiar silhouettes of Montague and Blaise Zabini could be seen lurking from afar and Luc, an ever present and predictably unpleasant staple of all of Maudlin's gatherings, was standing near the shadow of the boathouse. At the end of the dock, Draco was sitting with Alec, apparently absorbed in conversation.
"Ready for the First Task tomorrow?" called Maudlin as Astoria approached. "You probably secretly wish I was competing now, don't you?"
Emilie smiled indulgently at this. Astoria tried to smile back at her but felt the expression come out flat and false on her features.
"Of course she does," remarked Draco snidely, covering for the fact that he had been eavesdropping by speaking directly to Maudlin, who was always easy to appease. "I'm sure she wishes she was betting on you."
Astoria glared at Draco tensely. When Maudlin moved away to help Luc, Draco finally met her eyes. "What's the matter? Afraid Maudlin will find out about your little pet project?"
"Wish you didn't know about my little pet project," said Astoria hotly.
"So," began Draco twitchily, "who is your gold riding on, Greengrass? I really hope you decided to go with Diggory. It would be a shame to watch you bankrupt yourself on Potter."
Astoria knew what he was doing, because she had heard him phrase himself similarly before. Draco was trying to find out if she was backing Harry and he didn't really care about anything else. It was yet another bad mood inspired by Harry Potter's distant fame and Astoria was immediately put off by it.
"If you're so confidant, Draco, why don't you put your money where your mouth is too?" suggested Astoria, remembering Rita Skeeter's article at the last minute and regretting her choice of words. "I don't see you betting on a winner."
"You want me to bet?" sneered Malfoy dangerously, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "Fine. How about I bet five hundred galleons that Potter comes in dead last. What about that? Unless that's betting too rich for you?"
In truth, it was. It was fine for Draco to throw that kind of money around; he certainly had it and Astoria was no goblin, ready to extract coins from him by lethal force. If Astoria took Draco's wager however, and Harry really did come in last place, she would not only owe Draco five hundred more galleons that she did not posses, she would also have to match that five hundred galleons toward the goblins as well if she entered it down in her ledger. This would mean a total of one thousand galleons out of Astoria's pocket on a single bet; the same amount of money as the total prize awarded to the final Triwizard champion.
"You know what?" said Astoria, studying Draco's resentful face and thinking of the thousands of galleons she already had at stake, "fine. I'm in."
"Yeah?" scoffed Draco unpleasantly. "You should really ask Maudlin to bet as well. If he ends up having to pay you, he'll probably bring the gold to your common room in person."
"Draco!" exploded Astoria in exasperation, no longer willing to take his passive aggressive jibes sitting down. "If it bothers you so much that Maudlin knows where my dormitory is, you might try not telling him where it is next time!"
"That's not what I meant!" Draco sneered, going red enough for Astoria to see his cheeks blush even in the moonlight. "I was only saying-"
"Whatever!" Astoria snapped, turning on her heel. Astoria was anxious enough that evening without having to be verbally abused. If Malfoy wanted to be unpleasant, the party was his. Perhaps that would teach him not to be so goading...
Without so much as a second word, Astoria marched back to Gryffindor tower alone, feeling frustrated and a little nauseous.
0o0
Astoria did not sleep at all that night. Fears chased still crueler fears around in her head until Astoria began to feel dizzy and sick in the darkness.
What had Astoria been thinking, making a deal with goblins? It wasn't as though she was even earning the money for herself. Every bronze knut went toward Fred and George's dream of owning a joke shop, and what good were jokes if they were all abducted and tortured first? Astoria thought about Ragnuk's long, cruel fingers and she flipped her pillow over to the cool side, beating the smooth surface with her fist.
What was Astoria going to do if they lost? Up until that evening, Astoria had not properly allowed herself to think deeply about this option, afraid that her fear would become encompassing. Would she have to run away in order to avoid retribution? How could she have let things come to this? What would Maudlin say, if Astoria went to him asking for enough gold to purchase a small yacht? Surely he would not find the matter to be at all funny. Perhaps Malfoy could be prevailed upon to help her pay off a debt, if Astoria swore off any friendship with Harry Potter for the rest of her life? Laughing numbly to herself at this prospect, Astoria flipped her pillow again and continued to beat the feathers into submission.
By the time the sun came up, Astoria doubted if even Harry Potter felt as miserable as she did.
Breakfast was a highly excitable affair for everyone but the four champions, Astoria, and the Weasley twins. Astoria did not have the heart to tell Fred and George that another five hundred galleons had been added to their list of wagers thanks to Draco's last minute bet, so she chose to sit at the Slytherin table instead, hoping her pale face and unwillingness to eat would draw less notice there.
The First Task was not set to start until the afternoon, which meant that Astoria had a whole morning of classes to face in her state of miserable apprehension.
History of Magic was agony. Not even the Legend of the Giants was enough to distract Astoria from her looming fate, and it was a testament to Professor Binns' droning voice that she very nearly worked herself into a panic spiral during first period.
When at last, the lunch bell finally rang, Astoria spotted Harry alone in the entrance hall, looking strangely disconnected.
"I'll have a box of tissues ready for you, Potter!" called Malfoy as he went swinging past with Blaise Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle, no doubt on his way to meet Maudlin and Alec for lunch.
Several feet behind Astoria, Pansy Parkinson tittered.
"It'll be fine, Harry," whispered Hermione urgently. "Just stay calm and-"
"Potter!" called Draco again insistently, lagging behind as his friends continued into the great hall, apparently unsatisfied with Harry's lack of response. "Hey Potter, do you think your dead mother will be proud when they're mopping up what's left of you later?"
Harry shot Draco a look of pure loathing and made to move around him.
"Leave him alone, Malfoy!" said Hermione sternly.
"Oh!" drawled Draco. "This must be some of the 'love you've finally found at Hogwarts', is it Potter?"
"That's right, Malfoy," snarled Harry at last, snapping-to at this direct attack on Hermione. "Now, if you don't mind getting out of my way, I've got to go get a good cry in before the First Task in order to feel close to my mum. Maybe afterwards there will be enough time left for Astoria to polish off my wand while I contemplate the ghosts of my-"
Harry was cut short because Draco, counter to the sneering calm of just seconds before, had shoved Harry very hard in the chest.
Harry staggered backward in surprise and drew out his wand, clearly confused as to what had provoked a physical assault. Pansy stopped tittering and Astoria froze in place but other than this, no one else seemed to have noticed or reacted to the spontaneous bit of violence that seemed likely to break out in the middle of the hall.
"Potter!" called a sharp voice. Professor Mcgonagall had appeared, looking stern and unusually nervous. "Potter, you have to come down to the grounds now. It's time to get ready for the First Task."
In her state of discomfort, Professor Mcgonagall, who was normally so good at sniffing out trouble, had missed Harry and Draco's tense postures and drawn wands. People were turning to watch now, understanding that Professor Mcgonagall had come to collect Harry for the Tournament and the tension between both boys seemed to defuse under scrutiny.
Harry put his wand away and followed his Head of House out toward the grounds. Draco, blinking rapidly, shrugged off Pansy, who had rushed forward at once, and beat an angry path towards the great hall.
"It's all Potter's fault!" wailed Pansy to Flora. "He never should have been allowed to be champion!"
A niggling source of discomfort that had nothing to do with the potential fortune Astoria had at stake any minute now was gaining strength her chest and making Astoria's face burn hot.
Astoria had never heard Harry mention their shared bit of embarrassment in Rita Skeeter's article before, and to hear it come out of his mouth in such a hard way had given her an actual shock.
Astoria shook herself and went out onto the grounds to wait for Fred and George, relieved by the effect that the cold air seemed to have on her senses.
"Astoria!"
Astoria blinked and tore her eyes away from the frosted grass. Maudlin, Alec and Luc were striding up the hill toward her from the direction of the Beauxbatons carriage. Alec was particularly hard to miss, as he was dressed like something from a staged photograph of elitist country living in lilac and beige tweed. He threw up his arms in excitement at the sight of her.
Feeling all of the ill-convenience of this timing, Astoria's eyes darted back toward the entrance hall, hoping rather fruitlessly to spot Fred and George before she was abducted. Astoria would not be able to keep track of bets with Maudlin sitting nearby. It was essential that she found Fred and George before the Task started.
"Astoria, you missed our warm-up party!" said Alec. "Come on, they're staging the task down by the forest."
"I told my friend Theodore I would wait for him," Astoria lied, hoping to escape just long enough to at least pass her notebook off to one of the twins.
"Don't be ridiculous Astoria, your friend can come with us if he has no one else to sit with. There's no reason to wander off," said Maudlin, adjusting his tie, onto which he had rather pompously affixed his school pin. "We have to wait for Draco, anyway."
Draco appeared moments later with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering after him. Astoria could tell straight away that the annoyance he had felt in the entrance hall before lunch had not entirely left him.
"This way," said Luc impatiently, pointing them in the direction of the forest.
"Astoria wanted to find her friend," Maudlin reminded him.
"Which one?" snapped Draco in a frustrated voice. "You're not bringing the Weasleys with you?"
"Theo can find us," said Astoria pointedly, deciding not to search for Fred and George under Draco's nose. "Let's go."
They set off across the lawn until they reached a clump of golden-leaved trees, next to which a set of white tents had been constructed. Filch was ushering the crowd toward the right and once they had cleared this jutting bit of forestation, the ground opened up before them to reveal a large stadium that must have been constructed in secret while they had slept.
A vast crowd was mingling outside the gate where Hagrid was letting members of the audience into the stands in small groups, ushering them toward appropriately sized benches.
"What do you think?" remarked Alec, gesturing toward the bit of bare, rocky turf just visible inside the area.
"Gladiator battle?" Astoria mumbled back, moving forward as the line advanced. "It doesn't look like an obstacle course. They must have to face something in there..."
Astoria trailed off because, in the shadows between where the stadium had been erected and several medical tents had been pitched, Astoria had just spotted the small, alert figure of a goblin. Next to this goblin, stood Fred and George, who both were recognizable by their red hair even in the shadowy alcove.
Astoria tried to make eye contact but both twins were looking in the opposite direction and speaking in a hurried way that made her blood run cold.
Astoria heard Draco scoff beside her. A quick glance confirmed that he was looking in the same direction as she was and Astoria was certain that the lurking presence of the goblin was not lost on him.
Cringing, Astoria allowed herself to be jostled forward by the line. Hagrid pointed them toward the top tier so they climbed up a wooden staircase and pushed down a line of seats.
"Look at Karkoroff," drawled Alec, pointing past a Durmstrang flag toward his headmaster. "He's wearing a baby seal!"
Astoria began to scan the stadium, hoping to spot where Fred and George would eventually settle in, thinking that she might manage to slip over toward them.
Maudlin's quiet girlfriend Emilie took a seat in the row in front of them, partially obstructing Astoria's view. She was alone either, but accompanied by a tall, haughty looking french girl with a fox -like face and, to Astoria's annoyance, Pansy, Flora and Millicent Bulstrode.
"Oh good, you found us," said Maudlin, putting down his program.
"I don't know why we weren't allowed to seat ourselves. Now we'll be stuck in front of you," sniffed the girl with the fox face. "You might have waited for us by the Entrance Hall."
"They wouldn't have been able to seat us together, Cassandra," said Maudlin. "There are too many of us."
"Perhaps you might have invited fewer people?" suggested Cassandra. To Astoria's surprise, she felt Cassandra's eyes slide pointedly in her direction.
Maudlin did not seem to have noticed this, however, because he was busy pointing something out in his program to Draco.
"Psst!" hissed an urgent voice near Astoria's ankles. "Astoria!"
Astoria jumped and looked down. Fred Weasley was peering up at her between the banisters, his face drawn and anxious.
"Where's the notebook," hissed George, who was lingering behind his brother. "They, er-" George's eyes traveled down the row Astoria was sitting in, "-that is to say, our friends, are anxious to have a look at it."
Astoria produced the notebook from her winter cloak and handed it down to Fred, who was nearer.
"Who was that?" asked Alec. Fred and George both shot Astoria a look and retreated.
"Just some friends," said Astoria swiftly, turning her attention back toward the gathering crowd, wondering fearfully if Fred and George were secretly in trouble and afraid of saying so in front of so many people they did not know.
"Those were the Weasley twins," sneered Draco, who must have watched this exchange over whatever it was that Maudlin was showing him in the program. "I told you about them, remember? I suppose they just wanted to borrow your homework, Astoria?" he asked sarcastically, accidentally kicking the back of Emilie's seat as she shifted in his own irritably.
Astoria stared at the side of Draco's scowling face and wondered what his problem was.
"Good day, ladies and gentle-fellows," boomed Ludo Bagman, his voice magically magnified from the judges table below, "and welcome to the First Task!"
Everybody in Astoria's row fell silent.
"Today's task has been designed to test the daring of our young champions," said Ludo, "and to measure their courage in the face of the unknown! Moments ago, each champion was asked to select a miniature of a dragon, the real life versions of which they will be expected to face in order to collect a golden egg!"
Bagman went on to state how the manner of evading the dragon and the remaining integrity of the real eggs would factor into the judging but Astoria had stopped listening the moment he had said the word 'dragon'.
"Astoria, you've gone white!" said Maudlin indulgently, perhaps mistaking her goblin-related dread for girlish fear at the notion of live dragons.
Dimly aware that she could feel Draco's eyes burning into the side of her face, Astoria kept her own fixed on the arena. A redhead, bearing a striking resemblance to Ron Weasley, was leading a team of muscular men in the efforts of pulling a navy blue dragon into the stadium by an iron leash. The dragon snarled and raised its snub-face to peer at the audience hatefully, reminding Astoria bizarrely of Pansy Parkinson.
The crowd oohed and ahed. Astoria barely managed a dull golf clap before Cedric Diggory was shown out onto the field. Cedric and Harry were sometimes alike in their direct and honest way of tackling a problem, Astoria reasoned. Perhaps Cedric would be a decent indicator of how Harry was going to fare?
Astoria's hopes plummeted slightly when Cedric transfigured a rock into a small dog (an advanced bit of Transfiguration that Harry seemed unlikely to replicate) and were then dashed completely when the dragon lost interest in Cedric's Labrador and turned its wrathful flames upon Cedric himself.
A whistle blast split the air, telling the crowd that Cedric had managed to collect his egg but as half of Cedric's hair was on fire, it was hard to take much comfort in this fact.
Two medi-wizards showed Cedric off of the field. Astoria let out an instinctual groan in agony, fully appreciating the stupidity of the situation that she had constructed for herself at last.
The whistle blast seemed to have shaken Draco back to life because he had stopped looking at Astoria and begun watching the field again, his face an angry smudge of resentful lines.
Fleur Delacour came next.
"When are they going to play Potter?" wondered Maudlin, his voice lacking any trace of fear or anxiety. "Are they saving the youngest for last?"
"Probably," said Astoria bitterly, wishing Harry would just face his dragon and put her out of her misery.
In the vein of faintly veela-like magic, Fleur attempted to hypnotize her Common Welsh Green. This worked about as well as Cedric's Labrador had done. Much as it had during Cedric's attempt, Fleur's dragon seemed to lose thrall halfway through her effort. In the end, Fleur did manage to collect her egg but, even though she had not been burned, her dragon had managed to set her skirt on fire.
As Maudlin had predicted, Harry was lined up to go last because Krum came next. Krum took a different tact, pacing his dragon out, holding his wand at a steady arm's length as he prepared for what looked like it would be a physical attack.
Out of the corner of her eye, Astoria noticed that Draco had shifted away from Maudlin and was now bending over the row of seats in front of him to talk to Pansy and Flora. Krum made a darting motion toward the dragon and Pansy shrieked with shrill laughter at the same time, prompted by something Draco had said. Astoria, whose nerves were stretched to the point of maximum endurance, began to grind her teeth.
Krum had shot some kind of spell directly at the dragon's eyes, causing it to roar with wrath and stomp about blindly. The dragon's screams were terrible as it crushed the earth around it, but Krum was braver and faster than Astoria might have been.
The whistle blew again, this time for a successful champion who had not been burned or set ablaze.
Harry only needs to come in second place, Astoria reminded herself, watching as Krum lost points for smashing some of the real eggs. If Harry manages not to get burned, we'll win, thought Astoria desperately. So far, Krum was the only champion who had avoided dragon fire. Please, don't let him get burned.
"That's a Hungarian Horntail," said Draco lazily, in a very carrying voice. He was indicating something on the field so that Pansy would look at it. "They're viscous, even for dragons. Potter hasn't got a chance in hell against it."
Draco's eyes drifted toward Astoria, who was watching him instead of the field and, for brief second, something like savage triumph flickered across his features before he quickly turned back to Pansy.
Astoria looked away, angry with herself for becoming distracted. Then, with a lurch of dread, she saw what it was that Draco had been pointing at.
Another dragon had been led into the stadium. This one a dark iron gray, with black wings and fiery orange eyes. Everything from the tip of its sharply beaked head to its horned tale seemed to have been designed by nature for the purpose of killing.
"We have Horntails in Russia sometimes," said Alec curiously. "The way people talk about them, I've always imagined they must be like storybook monsters. Have you seen one before, Draco?"
Draco was still whispering to Pansy and Flora intently however, and did not answer.
"He doesn't know its a Hungarian Horntail," sneered Astoria, taking out her nerves on Draco, who was beginning to bother her immensely.
"It's in the pamphlet, Greengrass, if you'd bothered to read it," snapped Draco, who had supposedly not been listening.
When Harry entered the stadium a hush fell. Even from a great distance, he appeared much shorter than Krum had. The sight of his sparse form made Astoria feel a new, even greater fear. Astoria had been so wrapped up in her in own motives that she had almost forgotten that Harry, who was only fourteen, was going to have evade a dragon in the flesh.
Harry raised his wand into the air and said something, but Astoria could not make out what it was from where she was sitting in the stands.
The dragon strained against its metal leash, looking restless and cruel. Harry continued to stand almost foolishly still, as though he was waiting for something, clenching and unclenching his shaking hands.
The dragon snarled a great heave of preemptive fire. Astoria dug her fingers into her the flesh of arms where she had wrapped them to avoid fidgeting and waited.
"That's a plan, isn't it?" remarked Maudlin derisively, causing Malfoy to laugh. "Do you suppose he'll just stand there and stare at it until the whistle blows?"
"I can't say I blame him," said Alec, who had clearly expected to see bloodshed, looking faintly disappointed. "Although I was hoping for a better show..."
Astoria was fighting a mad, jittery desire to laugh, emptied of every emotion but alarm.
All of a sudden, something was hurtling through the air toward Harry, moving so fast that Astoria did not know what it was until Harry had swung one leg over it and pushed off from the ground.
The crowd exploded and this time Astoria really did laugh, not from hollow nervousness but from relief. Harry had summoned his broomstick, and while he might not have been the most talented spell caster Astoria had ever met, Harry was one of the best fliers.
"He can fly, can he?" asked Maudlin, wishing to sound nonchalant and coming up just short of it.
"Yes," said Astoria, eyes blazing. "Yes, he surely can."
Draco had slumped back into his seat again to watch, his eyes trained on the sky.
Several feet above them, Harry dove. The dragon, thinking that Harry was about to bombard it from above, let out a snort of steam which Harry masterfully avoided, and unfolded its leathery wings.
"Never," drawled Alec, his face alive with excitement. "He's provoking the dragon into the air..."
Indeed, this did seem to be Harry's plan and after several taunting feints, the Horntail finally shoved itself off the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust that hit the lower front row of the audience with its wings as it took flight.
"Great Scott, he can fly!" cried Bagman. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"
The moment the dragon was in the air, Harry dove again. Before the Horntail, which was much larger, even had time to reconsider, Harry had already scooped up the golden egg as though it were an oversized snitch. He was speeding off, past the radius of the dragon's vengeful stream of fire and out of harms way.
Astoria leapt to her feet with the rest of the audience, almost beside herself with glee. Harry had been the fastest to collect his egg and by far the most impressive to watch. His only real competition had been Krum, who had completed his task with an admittedly more impressive utility.
Alec had risen to his feet with Astoria but it was a moment before Maudlin, somewhat grudgingly but good-naturedly enough, stood as well.
Draco did not rise at all, but remained solidly in his seat, his face drawn inward with almost wordless disappointment and bitterness.
"He'll place first," said Alec, laughing at the stupidity of the idea that the youngest champion would take such an early lead. Unexpected victories had a way of stimulating Alec, who was very fond of chaos and the way it had of holding boredom at bay.
"It looked like the dragon burned his broom," said Maudlin, with slightly less passion. "He'll come in behind Krum."
Moments later, they were both proven to be somewhat right when the judges awarded Harry just enough points to tie with Krum in first place.
It was the closest Astoria had come to weeping since the time she had bawled in front of Draco at the World Cup. Relief was spreading through her limbs, stuttering through the pulse behind her eyes, coloring the world with hope.
Astoria had not lost an entire fortune. In fact, she had probably very nearly won one. What had seemed like such an incredible sum in the face of failure was no less outstanding now that the tables had turned in her favor.
Neither she, Fred nor George would have their fingers snapped off by vengeful goblins. Not, at least, until the second task. For today, they were safe...
"Back to the carriage," said Maudlin, looking about as the crowd began to disperse. "We'll have a party in the boy's dorm- although I suspect the girl's side will be in mourning."
Draco, looking more sour than Astoria had seem him in ages, finally stood up.
"Are you coming, Astoria?" asked Maudlin over his shoulder, already beginning to push his way out of the row.
"In a second," said Astoria, looking about for Fred and George. "I have to do something first. I'll catch up."
Draco scowled and sped up, pushing Crabbe and Goyle along with him until he reached Pansy, Flora, Emilie, and her friend Cassandra. Astoria had a sneaking, unpleasant suspicion that he was reiterating Maudlin's plan to them as well.
It was going to take more than the promise of Pansy to ruin Astoria's mood, however. Fred and George were waiting for her near the entrance to the stadium and the looks on both of their faces were enough to make Astoria leap forward and embrace them.
"Did you get the notebook back?" Astoria asked, wiping at her face with a hand that was still jittery from nerves.
"No," said Fred in a quiet voice, pushing her further away the jostling crowd.
"What's wrong?" asked Astoria, still so primed for tragedy that she could sense bad news from a mile away.
"Ragnuk says he wants to meet us in Hogsmeade next weekend," said George. "To go over details."
"We're students," said Astoria, beginning to see that winning a bet was not entirely enough to slake a goblin of his love of craftiness. "They must know that we're not supposed to do that."
"Yeah, well," said Fred carefully, "we're not really allowed to be taking bets either, so I'm thinking Ragnuk is sparring us no handicaps."
"I'm going to guess he didn't pay you?" asked Astoria flatly.
"He made it sound as though he would," said Fred tentatively.
"Well, I suppose we'll just have to meet with him," sighed Astoria, still thankful that it was she and the twins who were owed money, and not the other way around. "For now, lets all just be pleased that Ragnuk didn't make a promise to break our kneecaps, right?"
Fred and George chuckled, eager to agree with this positive outlook and they began their walk back around the forest.
"Party in the Gryffindor common room, at any rate," said George. "Blimey, Harry didn't even come in second- he tied for first! Bet Ragnuk's really sore about that."
"Do you want to help us carry food from the kitchens, Astoria?" asked Fred when they had reached the castle's front doors. "We can always use the extra hand."
"I told Maudlin I'd stop over first," said Astoria, glancing back down the sloping lawn toward the Beauxbatons carriage.
"Alright," said Fred. "We'll be up late, I'm sure. Remember," he called after her, "we won our bet! We won't have to sell ourselves into slavery!"
Astoria laughed and waved before turning and beginning the process of backtracking down past the lake, wondering fearfully if they were celebrating their victory too soon.
"Astoria!" exclaimed Luc as she entered the carriage, thrusting a crystal tumbler and a hat at her, "hold these! I'm showing Maudlin how to fence!"
What was most incredible about this statement, was the fact that it was in no way a euphemism. Luc was indeed clutching a silver fencing foil and Maudlin, laughing like a fool, was attempting to thwart Luc's attack with nothing put a purple throw-pillow.
Astoria took the hat and the glass and put them on a sideboard, feeling somehow that, despite the fact that she had discussed nothing but crime with Fred and George for days, these were the least sane members of her acquaintance.
Draco, Alec and several of the girls were sitting on the velvet upholstered couches that matched Maudlin's pillow. Giving Luc and his weapon a wide berth, Astoria went to join them.
"He thinks that he knows how to duel because his family can be traced to the French Revolution," commented Alec dryly. "He's always does this. Maudlin will win with his pillow."
Emilie chuckled and smiled indulgently at Maudlin, who certainly did not appear as though he was in any real danger.
"It's not just french aristocrats who think they can fence," said Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting between Draco and Alec and peering at Astoria slyly. "Didn't you fence, Astoria?"
"A little," said Astoria in a clipped tone, hoping to avoid a night of bickering with Pansy by largely ignoring her. "I was never very good at it."
Astoria surveyed the living room and began to wonder almost immediately why she had not just gone to the kitchens with Fred and George. Everyone sitting on the cluster of couches seemed to be faintly bored and teetering on the edge of cattiness as a result. What was more, with the notable exceptions of Alec and Maudlin, not a single face looked particularly happy see her.
"It gets cold so early here," complained the girl with the fox face named Cassandra. "At Beauxbatons, we barely need our cloaks during the day in November."
"I wish it was that warm here," moaned Pansy, leaning around Draco in order to speak with Cassandra. "We spend half the season in layers!"
"I keep forgetting," said Cassandra wanly, a sarcastic smile toying with her thin lips. "I freeze during the day, but if I wore any more clothing, I would be the size of a house."
"Have you never been to England before?" asked Astoria, aiming for a tone of politeness but finding her voice running towards annoyance instead.
Cassandra's eyelashes fluttered punishingly. "Of course I've been to England before. Who hasn't?" she sneered. "Half of my family lives here."
"Cassandra's last name is Rowle, Astoria," said Pansy witheringly. "That's an English family, isn't it? She's Draco's second cousin, even."
"Is that so?" said Astoria, trying not to smirk. She certainly knew who the Rowles were and, now that it had been pointed out, Astoria thought she could see something of a similarity between Draco and Cassandra. Both had faintly angular features, both were pale, haughty and currently unwelcoming in the extreme.
"You're Astoria, then?" said Cassandra, taking in Astoria's own features appraisingly. "It's a wonder we have never met before. Maudlin has told me so much about you."
"I'm not sure that he's ever mentioned you," said Astoria passively, put off at once by Cassandra's challenging tone.
"Funny, whenever Maudlin mentions you, he describes you as a fat nine year old," said Cassandra pointedly, her brown eyes never leaving Astoria's decidedly pubescent face. "He's seems to have done us both an injustice, hasn't he?"
Emilie, who was dating Maudlin and seemed to feel that some of this hostility had been for her benefit, blushed uncomfortably.
Astoria cleared her throat awkwardly. When Emilie had still not stopped blushing, Astoria rallied herself to be reassuring.
"Maudlin and I have known each other since we were little," said Astoria, directing her words toward Emilie. "I'm sure he'll always think of me as a nine year old. When did you two meet?"
Emilie blinked at Astoria morosely.
"They met in first year," said Cassandra flatly before Emilie could speak. "We start Beauxbatons at ten."
It had been a long time since anybody had taken such a violent dislike to Astoria right off the bat as Cassandra Rowle seemed to be doing. For a moment, Astoria found herself slightly thrown, her eyes flickering towards Draco of their own accord. Draco could claim some family relation to Cassandra, and Astoria wondered if he was witnessing the same madness she was.
"Maudlin must not talk about Emilie either," said Draco irritably when Astoria caught his gaze, shifting in his seat so that his arm dropped behind Pansy's shoulders. "Isn't that funny."
Emilie's blush deepened further still and Astoria felt her body go very still. A strange coldness began to spread through her chest as Pansy eyed Draco's hand on the back of the couch, looking at his willing fingers as though they were a succulent and unexpected prize. Astoria turned in her seat, unwilling to witness Pansy's look of triumph and was surprised to find that she was looking at the wall.
"Well, I've known Maudlin since first year as well," said Alec in a pointedly casual voice, "and I know for a fact that he goes out of his way to never mention me."
"Why don't I mention you?" asked Maudlin, retuning to the living room, his face still red from the exertion of trying to dodge Luc's fencing foil.
"I expect you think my name is too unsavory for polite company," said Alec, his cheerful tone only futilely scraping at the surface of the ice in the room.
"You bring it on yourself," said Maudlin, oblivious to the strange tension he had walked in on. "Sixteen, expelled and proud of yourself."
There were only two available seats left, one next to Astoria and the other next to Emilie. Astoria had only had time to begin fervently willing Maudlin to go to his girlfriend, when he sunk onto the couch next to Astoria instead because it was closer.
"You sound like my father," said Alec, smirking wickedly.
"You've always had a terrible lack of respect for your father, Alec," said Cassandra Rowle primly, crossing her legs and playing with a small necklace at her throat.
"And you've always had an absurd amount of reverence for yours, Cassandra," said Alec, looking amused. "I wonder if it might be freudian."
"A daughter should revere her father," said Cassandra, sounding very much like a victorian version of Daphne. "A father is a daughter's protector until she marries."
Maudlin seemed to approve of this sentiment in a distant way but Alec snorted scathingly.
At that moment there was a good deal of noise near the doorway as Flora, Blaise Zabini and Montague arrived.
"Flora!" squealed Pansy, leaping from her seat. "Have you met Cassandra Rowle?"
Draco swiftly edged his way out of his seat and poured himself more wine before Blaise could seize the bottle, his face set in a hateful grimace.
Astoria waited until the girls and Draco had all gotten up from their seats to greet the newcomers before speaking. "What's wrong with everybody tonight?" she sniped.
"What do you mean?" asked Maudlin, looking very surprised.
"Cassandra's launched a protective campaign against Astoria, of course," drawled Alec with a knowing leer.
"Oh," said Maudlin, a look of comprehension flickering across his features. "Well, pay her no mind. Just ignore her, Astoria. She and Emilie have been friends since birth, she's always been like that. Her manners are really impeccable once you get to know her."
"Her manners are impeccable until she catches the scent of blood, you mean?" said Alec flippantly, his smirk deepening. "I don't know what you did to Draco though, Astoria. I've been standing in his morose storm-cloud all evening and every time I look at him, he's glaring at you."
Astoria shrugged, surprised that this moodiness should have been obvious to anyone other than herself. "He's mad that Harry managed to survive the First Task," said Astoria informatively. "He'll come around."
Alec's eyes floated over the sea of newly arrived Slytherins to find Draco, raising a eyebrow softly as did so, perhaps to indicate that he did not entirely believe this excuse.
Astoria had never been so happy to see Flora, Blaise or Montague in her life and their additional presence seemed to augment the group just enough to keep some of its former tenseness at bay.
Talk soon turned away from Maudlin to the First Task, the conversation that they should have been having in the first place.
"Potter and the broomstick!" groaned Blaise, a look of something almost like private amusement flickering in his eyes.
"They never should have allowed that!" sniffed Pansy. "No one else had brooms."
"He did summon the broom by magic," Luc pointed out reasonably, not knowing how wildly popular Harry was with this audience. "I suppose it wasn't against the rules."
"The whole tournament is just a show, anyway," said Alec, throwing in his ten cents with a shrug. "May as well give the audience something to watch."
To Astoria's adamant lack of surprise, the entire conversation did nothing to take the edge off of Draco's foul mood.
"I'm sure he didn't think of it himself," Draco sneered. "It's too clever for Potter. Dumbledore probably told him to do it."
"And that would be against the rules," added Pansy unnecessarily, smirking at Luc as though Draco had somehow trumped him. "Because cheating isn't allowed."
"I expect I'll be seeing you in a few days, Greengrass," said Blaise, coming up to stand behind Astoria.
"Why's that?" asked Astoria warily.
"You owe me money, of course," said Blaise in a smirking undertone.
Astoria paused. She had taken a great many bets before the First Task but she did not remember Blaise's. "You bet that Harry would win?" asked Astoria dubiously.
A few feet away, Draco had paused to watch them, perhaps wondering why Astoria and Blaise would be conversing alone together.
"I bet on Krum," said Blaise, his eyes swimming tauntingly. "No one in their right mind would have been on Harry over Krum, although I suppose you did."
Astoria colored, feeling as though she had somehow given herself away.
"What about you, Draco?" drawled Blaise, aware that Draco was spying on them. "I suppose you put money on Krum?"
Astoria may not have immediately remembered Blaise's wager but she did remember Malfoy's. He had bet that Harry would come in last and, for the first time all day, it occurred to her that Draco owed her five hundred galleons.
"He didn't, actually," said Astoria swiftly, wanting to push the conversation as far away from the topic of Draco owing money because of Harry's triumph as she could. "Draco never bets."
This was an outright cover-up, but Astoria was desperate to keep whatever black hatred Draco seemed to be brewing at bay.
"Yes, I did," Draco snapped, surprising Astoria. "I bet Potter would lose, Zabini, and I'd do it again."
"Well, the Second Task is in February," Astoria bit back cruelly, unsure why she had attempted to conceal Draco's bet in the first place and irrationally embarrassed by his thankless response.
"You can give the gold to your freckle-faced friends too, for all I care," continued Draco, his tone growing even more unpleasant and what was worse, loud. "It's nothing to me. It's probably more gold than either of them see again in a life time, though."
"Actually, it's not," said Astoria, almost furiously. "But by all means, keep betting high. It'll certainly give us a laugh."
Even Astoria was surprised by the venom in her voice and she knew at once that her anger had almost nothing to do with what they were talking about. It was surely directed at Draco's wildly unfair resentfulness in general, but Astoria had no way of putting that truth into words and, even in his detached and bitter state, Draco flinched.
"Draco!" Pansy squealed. "Come play cards!"
Draco shrugged irritably, as though trying to twitch Astoria's comment off, and went back to the couches.
"How much did he bet?" chuckled Blaise, who missed nothing and had certainly caught on to the weird tension in their conversation.
Astoria ignored him and went to join the card game herself, thinking in vain that by being more pleasant and social, she might somehow turn the evening around. Between Cassandra's stabbing comments and Pansy's determination to sit practically in Draco's lap however, this did not seem likely.
They were playing poker and the exact rules of the game seemed to escape Pansy, because she kept calling on Draco for assistance.
"Can I play this?" asked Pansy, presenting her hand to Draco confidentially for the sixth time.
"What? No-" said Draco, hardly able to conceal his impatience as he took in the cards she had selected. "They have to be in a suit."
"Why?" asked Pansy, rolling her eyes and leaning into his shoulder.
For a moment, Draco looked faintly annoyed but then he caught Astoria staring and promptly began to fix Pansy's card hand, allowing her to lean even further into him as he did so.
"Play that," said Draco pompously, his eyes flicking back to Astoria again as Pansy played her cards, giggling delightedly when she won the hand.
Astoria looked away, feeling bizarrely certain that the more she looked, the more likely Draco was to try to instigate her.
Luc made a sound of annoyance as Pansy pulled the stack of sickles they had been betting towards her. "That's not fair. Stop helping her, Draco!"
Draco shrugged stubbornly and tossed his own hand onto the table. Astoria was left marveling at just much money Draco was prepared to lose that week for no reason other than personal vindictiveness. He was certainly not on an upward swing, as far as betting went. Unsure whether this caused her to feel more rage or pity, Astoria was finally able to focus on her own cards.
When the card game mercifully broke up, Astoria stood up and waited only until the sun began to set before excusing herself, certain that she had had enough of the monied Beauxbatons-Slytherin alliance for one evening.
The air outside was brisk and there was a hint of snow on the wind. A violently full moon was beginning to come up between the trees of the forbidden forest, causing the frost on the ground to glow like cream in the clean light. Astoria could see her breath as she tightened her cloak around her collar, eager to keep the biting chill out.
"Leaving already?" sneered Draco. Astoria jumped, noticing him at last, leaning against the side of the carriage. She had not seen him slip out and she could not see what purpose he could have for being outside other than lingering moodily by himself in the cold.
"Yeah," said Astoria flatly, trying to quell the strange ferocity that she felt just looking at his face before she said something she would regret. "I've had about enough of Pansy pretending she can't play cards and Cassandra Rowle scowling at me. The party's yours. Have fun dragging Pansy back up the hill later." Astoria turned to walk away.
"Would that bother you?" asked Draco cruelly, pushing away from the side of the carriage.
"Not really," Astoria sneered back, knowing she should leave but finding it almost impossible to ignore Draco.
"It wouldn't, would it?" spat Draco bitterly, after a strange pause. "Nothing ever bothers you. You're a regular chip off your aunt's shoulder."
Astoria had fought with Draco many times, but she could not remember ever seeing his face look so hateful.
"You're so stupid, you know that?" Draco sneered, making to follow her around the carriage.
"How do you figure?" Astoria bit back shakily, thinking of the way Draco had let Pansy hang on him all night and realizing, at last, that this might have been somewhat for her benefit.
"Potter's not even your friend!" Draco hissed. "You're a fool if you think he is. He made fun of you to my face this morning and how do you pay him back? By going to the First Task and making yourself sick over him? You're pathetic!"
This was not entirely what Astoria had been expecting and for a moment she had no idea how to respond.
"I take it back," said Draco nasally. "You're nothing like your aunt. She wouldn't fall for such a weak game, but by all means, hurry up and get going! Go waste yourself on Potter. I'm sure he's in your common room right now having the time of his life."
Dimly, Astoria began to understand that her grasp on what it was that they were fighting about was very poor. Sensing that, to outside eyes, she and Draco would probably appear very strange and dramatic, Astoria dithered in the shadows of the carriage.
"I don't even know what you're talking about Draco," Astoria insisted, repressing the urge to scream with exasperation.
"Yes, you do!" Draco snarled. "You spent the whole task looking like you did after the dementors made you faint in third year! I'm not stupid!"
"You obviously are!" Astoria yelled back. "Did you ever stop to think I might have more interest in the task than Harry's broomstick routine?" Astoria knew that this was not something she should discuss with anybody and that alluding to her goblin-interests in front of Draco was particularly stupid, but she couldn't help speaking. "Get over yourself, Draco! No one is as obsessed with Harry Potter as you are!"
The moon was continuing to rise and it shone behind Draco's head, suddenly less white and more orange, wreathed by a halo of ice. It was the kind of moon that spoke of rituals and bewitchments; a moon that marked the changing of the seasons.
All of a sudden, Astoria realizing she was shivering and it had little to do with the cold. The strange dread that had been growing inside of her all night finally began to take hold of her insides.
"What are you doing betting on Potter in the first place?" sneered Draco unrelentingly. "Do I even want to know what Weasley was doing with a goblin earlier?"
"No, because it's none of your business!" Astoria yelled.
"Fine," spat Draco coldly, sounding as if he meant it. In the steadily growing moonlight, Astoria caught a better glimpse of his face and was surprised to find that she barely recognized it. For a brief moment, Astoria teetered on the edge desperation, feeling that whatever it was the she was afraid of, it was Malfoy who was capable of bringing it about, and she was very certain that she didn't want him to.
"You should go to bed, Draco," said Astoria at last, aware that this sounded more patronizing than she had perhaps meant it to. "You look cold..."
"Yeah?" Malfoy sneered. "Why don't you make me? Oh, that's right, you could if you wanted to. You'll have to thank Moody for that next time you see him."
Astoria did not want to thank Moody for anything. What she wanted was for Draco to stop being furious with her because, hidden in the cold pitch of his voice, Astoria detected a creeping tone of desertion that she had never heard there before.
It suddenly and chillingly occurred to Astoria that she often had the upper hand when she was fighting with Draco because she was far more likely to be able to stop caring and walk away. Now, for the first time, Astoria looked at Draco and was irrationally terrified that he was going to storm away from her back to his friends, his housemates and Pansy.
Daphne had done it last autumn, after all, and Astoria's father had been practicing his own abandonment for years. Still, it had somehow, almost incredibly, never occurred to her that Draco might do the same. She had been thoroughly taking his continued presence for granted for ages, a trait that Astoria rarely took for granted in anyone.
Astoria reacted to this numbing realization instinctually and immediately. She reached out toward Draco stupidly, feeling an inexplainable desire to soothe or coerce him before her fears could become reality.
"Don't!" Draco hissed, trying to snatch himself away from her, his own sense of humiliation bubbling over in a rare display of desperation.
Astoria pushed herself up onto her toes and, in the end, stumbled forward into him.
Draco's eyes squeezed shut. He went very still, grimacing as though she had hit him and his mouth twitched resentfully. No longer entirely sure what she was doing (but very certain that her instinct seemed to be to court madness) Astoria found herself pulling on him. Draco's fingers curled. Astoria tugged on him again, expecting to find him just as solidly resistive but his legs seemed to have gone soft and they both tumbled backward against the carriage behind her. Draco made a small, weak sound and the fight seemed to go out of him.
Struck dumb by the bizarreness of this turn of events, Astoria did not move, trying very hard not to admit to herself that there was something about Draco's proximity that she found secretly stirring. She was reminded slightly of the way that he had held her after the riot at the Quidditch World Cup, only this was even stranger because there had been no preamble. No reason for Astoria to be going out of her way to touch him.
After a supremely awkward moment, Draco turned his face just enough to press his nose into her hair. Astoria's own fingers twitched in response, trying to get a better hold of the fabric beneath them before he could escape. Draco's hand caught her wrist, perhaps confused by what she was trying to achieve with so much tugging. The pressure behind his grasp did not seem to be one of annoyance however but of faint possessiveness. He was was not trying to control her movements, he was trying to pull her closer.
She felt his other hand reach out for the wall behind her and Astoria was suddenly, almost painfully, aware of the way his nose was brushing the side of her face. She let Draco close the gap between them, feeling so uncertain of her own intent that her brain seemed to have responded by telling her body to play dead.
The only thing her brain seemed to know for certain was that, if she did not move, Draco was going to try to kiss her. Astoria could not have said how she knew this, but she did know it, just as clearly as if someone had written out his thought bubble in the air with a wand. She could sense it in the stiff, almost contemplative angle of his face and torso and the tense stitch of his breathing. With the strangest mixture of real anticipation and actual dread that Astoria had ever experienced, she inclined her face toward him just slightly.
At that moment, someone else moved on the other side of the carriage near the doorway. Astoria heard the sound first and she did a very good job of quickly remembering to free herself before Blaise Zabini turned the corner, privately relived to have been spared the consequences of whatever else might have happened otherwise.
Astoria knew by the look on Blaise's face that Draco had not moved away quite fast enough, however, because Blaise brightened with delighted suspicion at the sight of them.
"What are you two doing out here?" Blaise asked, his eyes flickering at their unexpected bit of intrigue.
"I'm leaving," said Astoria coldly, hating Blaise for his smugness.
"Fuck off, Blaise," said Draco hollowly, his exhaustion even more apparent now that he had been sapped of his rage.
Astoria eyed Draco nervously, suddenly afraid that leaving him behind in the cold would be somehow insulting.
Blaise chuckled. Astoria glanced back at him and was slightly surprised to find that it was Astoria he was staring at, and not Draco at all.
"What?" Astoria snapped.
Blaise shrugged, but something about his keen expression seemed to promise future unpleasantness.
Astoria scowled at him and pushed out across the lawn, feeling guilty for leaving Draco but exceedingly powerless to help him in front of Blaise.
If Draco knew what was good for him, thought Astoria angrily as she marched up the marble steps, he would stop drinking with Maudlin and Alec so often and start trying to get a handle on whatever irrational jealousy it was that he felt towards Harry. Surely that would be a better use of his time. Or better yet, he might try focusing on something productive for a change. Something that didn't involve making slam badges or passing around rubbish news cuttings.
Lying in bed, with the bright moonlight streaming through a gap in her bed hangings, Astoria was almost able to convince herself that these were truly the reasons for the wakefulness in her limbs.
0o0
Oh boy, can we have a discussion about updates guys? The slow down in posting lately is caused mostly by the fact that I no longer have great heaps of paragraphs pre-written (I had a lot of chunks to work with when I first uploaded this) and because each chapter tends to come in at twenty or more pages.
In order to post this current chapter for instance, I had to write about twenty pages (so I can stay at least one chapter ahead, in case I need to change any wiggly details at the last minute) and edit a separate twenty-four pages to the point of reasonable clarity. Now, I'm certainly not complaining and if I had nothing else to do but write (AKA my Heaven) I might be able to pull the deed off in a day or so, but right now it's taking me about a half a week.
Which begs the question, which would you prefer: a three or four day wait between large posts, or smaller chapters every day or so? I'm perfectly happy to do either, so if you have an opinion about this, feel free to weigh in because I am riddled with doubt!
As always, reviews are a rewarding treat!