Chapter 7

Astoria felt as though she had blinked, and it was suddenly the end of the year. Before she knew it, she was packing a small case to take home with her for Christmas holidays. She wasn't looking forward to the break.

She'd been thinking back to when Daphne had returned home for her first Christmas break. Astoria had been happy that there was someone around other than just her and her parents. Daphne had been the centre of attention the entire meal, her mother and father alternating questions about her classes, her friends, her professors. After what felt like the thousandth question, Daphne stood up, cried "I wish I'd stayed at Hogwarts" and stormed out of the dining room. At the time, Astoria had thought she was just being Daphne, overdramatic as usual. But now she dreaded the same thing happening to her.

Am I actually empathising with Daphne? She rolled her eyes at herself. That's depressing.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice anyone else enter the dormitory until hands clamped down on her shoulders.

She half-screamed and started violently. She turned to see Tullia dissolving into giggles. "You jumped half a metre in the air!" she wheezed. Astoria held a hand to her chest, where her heart beat faster than wings on a snitch, and shook her head at Tullia.

"You are the worst friend in existence! So much for that Christmas present I was going to give you." Tullia's giggles were replaced by pleading.

"Don't say that, my dearest friend! Of course you got me something for Christmas, didn't you? And it's probably perfect, because that's just who you are, and are you going to give it to me now? Or are you going to owl it to me on Christmas Day? Please say now! I don't think I can wait until Christmas."

Astoria let her run out of breath before answering. "I -was- going to wait… but I suppose there's no reason I couldn't give it to you now." Tullia squealed, clapped her hands in joy and ran over to her own bunk. She was back in a flash with a silver-wrapped present.

"Here's yours! But you have to promise to wait until Christmas to open it. Now where's mine?" She hummed happily as Astoria placed a purple package in her outstretched hands.

"We could have done this on the train, you know."

Her friend made a rude noise. "That's hardly practical. Then we'd have to repack our luggage to get it to fit, and then it would squish, and other people might have been around… no, this is loads better."

How lucky was she to have found a mate like Tullia?

The train ride home was uneventful, as was the travel from King's Cross. It wasn't until they were around the dinner table and Fletcher had served the fish course that they started asking questions.

Her mother put her fork down and picked up her wine glass. "Astoria, tell me all about your classes. Which one is your favourite?"

It didn't matter that Astoria (and Daphne) had been dutifully writing once a week, they asked anyway. To be honest, Astoria wasn't bothered by the initial questions. She really had enjoyed her first term at the school, and she was happy to talk about it.

"Astronomy, I think. Though I do enjoy Charms and even Transfiguration more than I thought I would. And Madam Pomfrey has actually been a very good teacher."

"Astronomy is your favourite class? That doesn't seem like you, dear." Her mother sounded more confused than disapproving, but it still bit at Astoria with that familiar passive-aggressive delivery.

"Tullia taught me that each of the constellations has a story. And I like the idea of the sky being filled with memories."

"Tullia Burke, isn't it? I'm still concerned about you befriending that girl." Her father frowned. "Particularly with all that business at the Midsummer's Day fete."

"Father, that was over two years ago. And no one would remember that event as anything more than my being out in the sun too long." Astoria smiled politely to project confidence in her statement. Neither of her parents looked reassured.

"You're sure you were careful in September, that no one noticed anything?" Her mother's voice was polite, but it sounded just slightly skeptical to Astoria.

"Yes Mother, I'm sure. Madam Pomfrey really is very good at her job, and she is very committed to keeping things discreet. She's been teaching me so much about healing, I'm actually very grateful I get to spend so much time with her each week."

"It was a good decision not to do any flying lessons," Daphne said sweetly. "During a Quidditch match in November, Harry Potter lost consciousness in mid-air and nearly plummeted to his death."

Her father's fork clattered as he rushed to set it down. "You didn't say that in your letters." Both her parents then looked to Astoria with worried expressions. Daphne looked triumphant.

Astoria was fuming inside but didn't want to give her sister the satisfaction of knowing it. "Dumbledore stopped anything serious from happening. It truly wasn't worth writing about."

"Even still, Astoria, you should have told us," her mother chided. "I hope it helped you realize why flying is so dangerous for someone with your… affliction."

Breathe. Don't scream. Don't let Daphne see you squirm.

"It did." She managed quietly.

"Good." Her father picked his fork up again. "Now tell us about how you find Ravenclaw Tower. Your grandmother was a Ravenclaw, you know."

Astoria somehow made it through dinner without losing her sanity, her temper, or her patience. She almost wanted to thank Daphne, whose constant attempts to stir the pot had only helped her cling determinedly to her composure.

After dinner, she was free. She went straight up to her room and fell backwards onto her bed. The ceiling's blank white space was so quiet and peaceful that she just lay there for a full minute, lost in serenity.

Tuesday evening, Astoria was sitting comfortably on a cot in St. Mungo's. Lyra had just delivered the preventative potion to her and had sat down for a chat.

Most of Lyra's questions were of the same ilk as her parents': how was she finding school life, what were her favourite classes, had she made friends. And when it came to questions about her health, Lyra somehow knew how to ask questions that didn't make Astoria feel invisible. She often felt like her parents were more interested in her illness than in her interests or ambitions. Lyra treated her illness as only part of who Astoria was - and not the main part.

"How is my dear friend Poppy - that is to say, Madam Pomfrey - doing these days?"

Astoria smiled hesitantly. "She's fine. She's a very gifted healer."

"She is at that," Lyra smiled back. "One of the most gifted healers I know. How she manages at that school… well, I'm sure she's never bored. I bet she has you hopping for her."

"To be honest, I'm not sure how much I've helped. I think she's just finding things to keep me busy for the most part."

"Oh? What kind of things?" Lyra doubted that her former schoolmate had any time to spare for make-work tasks.

"Well, my first week at Hogwarts she assigned me a star calendar. I've also folded bandages, crushed potion ingredients, even cleaned sheets and remade beds."

Lyra considered her young patient closely. "Was this the first time you ever cleaned sheets?"

"Of course it was! Fletcher manages all that at home. Why is knowing how to clean sheets very important? It felt more like detention than anything."

Lyra only hummed in response that. "What kind of star calendar was it?"

Astoria was surprised that Lyra seemed so interested in such boring details. "It had to do with some of the zodiac constellations. Leo, Taurus, Pisces, and Ophiuchus I think."

"Did she get you to crush Chizpurfle carapaces?"

Astoria blinked. "Yes. How do you know that?"

Lyra's smile spread warmly across her face. "How about wormwood leaves?" Astoria nodded again.

"Yes, those too."

"Poppy obviously doesn't think you're too young to start learning more about your treatments. Both wormwood leaves and Chizpurfle carapaces are ingredients in the potion you just drank. And the calendar you made was to help you track the zodiac constellations during equinoxes and solstices."

Astoria gaped at the healer. "Why wouldn't she tell me this?" She had wondered about the constellations, but she hadn't given much thought to the potion ingredients.

Lyra took a deep breath and sighed, her smile disappearing. "I don't know, Astoria. Maybe she is trying to teach you things about your illness without making it the focus. You're only eleven, my dear. You shouldn't have to take care of yourself so much." She lifted a hand to stroke Astoria's hair affectionately.

"But you will eventually have to learn how. That's a certainty of any ineradicable illness. Either you learn to manage it, or it will manage you."

Astoria didn't have any words, so she nodded.

"You're a darling girl, Astoria, and you're bright. Poppy… that is, Madam Pomfrey is trying to help you be as in control of yourself as possible. Who knows? Maybe you'll find you have an interest for healing yourself."

Astoria would have to think about this more. Lyra recognized the face of deep contemplation and squeezed the young girl's hand. She then checked a couple of the instruments nearby, and left on the promise of returning soon.

In some ways, this familiar hospital room was more comforting than her bedroom had been. Become a healer? It was a thought that hadn't really occurred to her before. She liked the idea of helping people, though she wasn't sure she had enough patience. The way Madam Pomfrey and Lyra were with her was so calming, so reassuring and straightforward. She wasn't sure she would ever be so confident or sure of herself. She also wondered how much laundry and cleaning was involved.

The rest of the holidays were blessedly quiet. Astoria was delighted to wake up on Christmas morning to the manor gardens being cloaked in a beautiful white mantle. Fletcher made stuffed french toast with spiced plum jam for breakfast and a whole vat of mulled butterbeer. The whole family sipped it as they gathered around the glittering tree in their sitting room and exchanged gifts.

Daphne gave her a Ravenclaw blue hair ribbon that she thought she'd likely never wear. Her parents gave her a set of new quills made from eagle feathers. And Tullia had given her a beautiful alabaster box with blue and green stones inlaid to form what she thought might be lotus or papyrus plants. It was about the size of a book, and Astoria eagerly attempted to open it to see what was inside. The lid didn't budge.

"What a beautiful box, Astoria," her mother said admiringly.

"It's Egyptian, I see." Her father was looking at it as well with his knowledgeable eyes that missed nothing. "A gift from your friend Miss Burke?"

"Yes," she answered, still trying to figure out how it opened. She held her wand up to it and said "Alohomora!" Nothing happened.

"Seems defective," Daphne added, more interested in her own new silk scarf than the box in front of her sister.

"I'm sure I'm just missing an instruction," Astoria said. Though she couldn't see how. Had Tullia told her a clue or a detail that she'd forgotten? She didn't think so.

"May I use an owl to send her a note?" She had never had anyone to send a message to before, and the thought of it made her feel very grown up.

"After dinner," her father said. "Your great-uncle Thomas will be joining us for dinner at 6." Astoria saw Daphne make a face when neither parent was looking. Great-uncle Thomas was 97 years old, and still believed that young witches shouldn't be sent off to school unaccompanied. It would be a long night.

It was a long night. Great-uncle Thomas started rambling about Astoria's being sorted into Ravenclaw halfway through the main course and didn't stop until he left for brandy in the library with her father. Astoria was only then allowed to retreat to her room and write a short letter to Tullia.

Tullia,

The box is beautiful! It glows in candlelight, like it's lit up from the inside. For all I know, there's a handful of glow bugs in there. Am I supposed to know how to open it? DOES it open?

I hope your holidays are going well, and that you liked your present.

Astoria

She went down to the owlcote and sent it with Morton, the big black and tan owl that she liked the best. And then she went back to her room to wait.

It wasn't long before Morton was knocking at Astoria's bedroom window. She quickly let him in, and untied the parchment on his leg.

Astoria,

The box is made of alabaster and comes from Karnak, Egypt, near where my mother grew up. I'm glad you like it! It's meant to hold secrets, which is why you can't open it. Ha ha! I bet your face when you tried to open it was priceless. I'm only sorry I wasn't there to see it.

To open it, point your wand at the lotuses on the top and say the password. Right now, it's "Cassiopeia", but you can make it anything you want. I put the charm incantation to change it inside the box. I'm positive that we're going to get up to all sorts of mischief at Hogwarts together, and I know your parents can be a bit strict. So this should help keep our secrets safe while we're apart!

See you at King's Cross before you know it,

Tullia

PS - A book on Quidditch! We're going to become experts, just you wait. Do you think Ravenclaw stands a chance to win this year's season?

She hadn't realized how much she had missed Tullia's energy and talkative nature until her note. She smiled, thinking about how much her friend would have loved to see her look confused when the box hadn't opened. A box for secrets. Her stomach twisted a little at the thought.

These are good secrets, she reassured herself. Secrets meant to be shared with Tullia.

She couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts.