CHAPTER 7: Fluke
The Potions classroom was just as dark and oppressive as Daphne remembered. She settled herself in at her table and then looked up to find Professor Snape walking up to her with a scowl and a generous swirl of his cloak.
"Miss Greengrass," he intoned. "I received a letter that was rather critical of my teaching methods over Christmas. Your father seems to believe that you are not the one to blame for your poor grades. Let's hope that you live up to his expectations this term."
Daphne's heart started beating frantically in her chest, but she kept eye contact with her looming professor. "Yes, sir, I'll try my best," she said quietly.
"See that you do even better than that." He swept away to the front of the classroom and began writing the directions for that day's assignment. With a wave of his wand, the necessary ingredients floated off the shelves and settled on each student's table in front of their cauldron. "If any of you believe that there will be any sort of refresher or coddling in this class, you are sorely mistaken. We will be starting with a new…"
Daphne tuned out for just a moment, looked at the board behind her teacher, and tried to read the instructions. The words were written clearly, but something about the loops and curves of Snape's writing confused her, which was frustrating. Maybe if she got closer?
"Now, get to work."
Daphne snapped back to attention, glancing down at her assembled ingredients and then back at the board with a furrowed brow. Would she even be allowed to get up in class?
"What's the holdup, Greengrass? Having trouble already?" Draco Malfoy taunted from behind her.
Daphne turned to glare at him and he just laughed at her, which infuriated her even more. With a deep breath, she looked at her parchment and made up her mind.
She reached into her school bag and grabbed her large Charms textbook and her quill and ink, before standing up. She walked to the front of the classroom, pointedly ignoring Snape's eyes boring into her and the stares and laughter of the other students. Then, standing right next to the board, she began writing down every step of how to brew an Edurus Potion.
Daphne took her time, carefully copying every word as neatly as she could, double and triple checking her spelling and the order of the steps. Once she was done, she marched back to her seat with determination and set about doing the assignment.
"Okay," she said to herself, staring down at her parchment and taking a moment to recover from being so scrutinized. "First step is…"
All of her mother's tutoring came back to her. "Potion brewing is exact when it needs to be, and flexible when necessary," her mother said to her in their first lesson. "You need to have the right hand for it. Follow your instructions to start, but pay attention, always pay attention, to your cauldron. It will tell you when it needs you."
And that's what Daphne did. She carefully heated the base solution and sprinkled some Mongrel Fur in, stirring it thoroughly. Then she added Ashwinder Eggs, and the solution bubbled and thickened, but it didn't change color like it was supposed to. Daphne frowned and thought. She read the directions again, added another egg and stirred three times clockwise and again counter-clockwise, so the magic would accept the new ingredient, just like her mother taught her.
Her potion let off a little spark and swirled in the cauldron on its own. It settled down and turned to the perfect shade of shimmering silver.
"Yes!" Daphne cheered, grinning happily.
"You cheated!" she heard from off to the side. She saw Amber standing up to look at her cauldron with an absolutely gobsmacked, angry expression. "That was cheating! You can't just do that!"
"Sit down, Miss Runcorn, and stop that wretched shrieking." Professor Snape stepped up next to her, peering down his nose into her caldron with immense distaste. "Miss Greengrass, this is… acceptable." That seemed painful for him to say. "The old stirring technique is useful for making up for poor initial execution. You do not fail today's class, however you still need to stay after."
"Yes, Professor."
Daphne didn't care if Snape wanted to interrogate her or whatever after class. She did it. She proved it to herself that she could brew potions perfectly well.
Daphne stood resolutely in front of Professor Snape's desk after everyone else filed out of the classroom. He was holding up the potion she had made that class period, tilting and swirling the bottle of silvery liquid in the dim lighting of the dungeon. He was examining it very thoroughly, she realized, looking for tampering.
Finally, he put the bottle down and looked at Daphne with a sour, rankled expression. "Miss Greengrass, you know as well as I do that your performance this past term was truly abysmal. How," he paused with a narrowing of his eyes, "you were able to brew this admittedly acceptable Edurus when not three weeks ago you could barely manage a simple Hiccuping Solution leaves me suspicious."
Daphne fidgeted with the book and parchment still in her hands and looked at her potion on Snape's desk. "Well, sir, my mother tutored me over the break. Sh-she's really good and helped me understand better…" She trailed off, completely embarrassed at her stuttering. She sounded like Valerian!
"Ahh, yes. Cressida Selwyn," he murmured while leaning back in his chair. "A shame she squandered her talents on something as frivolous as modeling."
That was the first time anyone had said something like that about her mother's career. Usually people were amazed at her, starstruck, even. But Professor Snape didn't see it that way.
On one hand, Daphne found it refreshing that someone else saw and appreciated her mother's intellect and abilities instead of her beauty…
But on the other hand, Daphne didn't like his tone.
Whether Daphne liked it or not, modeling made her mother happy. On some level she understood that if she could, Cressida would still be modeling today. So having some weird man with greasy hair belittle that made Daphne's hackles rise.
"Modeling isn't frivolous. It makes my mum happy and that's all I care about." Daphne crossed her arms and glared at her mean teacher. "Are you accusing me of something or not?"
Professor Snape glared right back at her. "Detention for that disrespect, Greengrass. I know your potion is clean, and if it was your mother that tutored you, that would explain some of your improvement." He leaned forward and snatched the parchment with the directions from class out of her hands. "I see. So that's what you were doing at the board."
Daphne felt a flood of embarrassment. "I wanted to make sure I had them right…"
"Could you not see from your seat?"
"I can…" How could Daphne describe this to him? "I—er—have a hard time understanding your handwriting, Professor."
He just looked at her for a long moment, face unreadable. Daphne thought he was searching for something, but she didn't know what. "Very well," he said finally. "You have my permission to copy from the board up close, but try to be faster about it. You will serve detention with me this evening after dinner, where you will receive remedial lessons of your potions from before Christmas." He held out a piece of parchment as well as her notes. "Here's an excuse for your next class. Now leave."
Daphne bounded through the dungeons and hopped onto her bed as quickly as possible, yanking her curtains closed. She didn't have a lot of time before dinner and her detention with Snape and she needed to talk to Astoria, at least for a little bit. The Imperturbable charm fell from her lips easily and Daphne settled in for an easy chat.
Pumpkin startled from where she was curled up on Daphne's pillow from all the frantic movement. The little brown kitty started anxiously quacking and pacing at the foot of the bed before settling back down with every part of her warm, fluffy body pressed up against Daphne's hip. Daphne ran a calming hand down her back and scratched behind her ears, and Pumpkin gave a happy, luxurious stretch.
When Daphne opened the compact mirror, she was treated to another fluffy body, this one the pure, soft white of clouds. She giggled and said, "Hi Whimsy! Is Astoria there?"
Whimsy picked up her head, looked over her shoulder at the mirror, and mewed cutely, blinking sleepy blue eyes.
"What is it, Whimsy?" Daphne heard Astoria ask from off to the side.
"Astoria! It's me!"
"Daphne!" There was some fumbling and then the image blurred and jerked until it stopped on Astoria's excited face. "You're early! This is amazing!"
Daphne grinned back. "I don't have a lot of time, but I just really wanted to talk to you! It couldn't wait 'til later!"
"Really?" asked Astoria, her eyes sparkling. "I'm so happy!"
"Yeah! So listen to this!" And Daphne launched into an explanation of how Potions class went, and her meeting with Professor Snape afterward. Astoria was grinning with her through the whole thing.
"Oh Daphne, Mummy will be so proud! I'm so proud! I knew you could do it!"
Daphne's cheeks hurt from how wide she was smiling. "Thank you, Astoria. I was thinking of writing to Mum and Papa after I get out of detention—"
"Detention?" Astoria's expression turned frantic. "How did you get detention?"
"Oh," Daphne said. "Well, Professor Snape was being mean about Mum's career, so I told him he was wrong, and he didn't like that very much. So he gave me detention for—what did he call it?" She looked up, searching for the answer. "Right," She schooled her face into her most pinched, sour expression and pitched her voice lower. "'Detention for that disrespect, Greengrass,'" she intoned sharply through her nose, trailing off into a giggle.
Astoria was giggling as well, a little hand over her mouth. "Is that really what he sounds like?"
"Worse! Wait until you see his nose—it's so big! And I swear he hasn't ever heard of soap before! His hair is so greasy it practically drips behind him!"
"Ewww!" Astoria was horrified, but still laughing despite herself.
Daphne smiled broadly again and pulled the compact closer to her. "I promise to draw you a picture of him and all of my teachers in my next owl."
"I can't wait to get it!"
Daphne looked at the clock she had propped up on her bed and saw that she was almost late for dinner. "Oh! I have to go, Astoria! It's dinner time, and I promised to keep Valerian company tonight. I'll talk to you after my detention with Professor Greasy, okay?"
Astoria giggled again, but her smile was slightly sad. "I'll miss you, Daphne."
"I know," Daphne sighed. "I miss you too, A. But I'll only be gone for a couple hours."
Astoria nodded, her brown curls bouncing. "Thank you for talking to me now. It means a lot to me."
Daphne smiled again, softer this time. "I know, and I wanted to, silly. I love you and I'll see you later, okay?"
"Yeah," Astoria said. "I love you too, D."
Daphne made her way through Snape's remedial lessons with a little trouble, but she tried to stay calm. It helped that he had handwritten the directions on paper and printed the letters instead of using his usual wild scrawl.
She was stirring in the last ingredient for the Hiccuping Solution when Snape materialized next to her with a billow of his black robes. He looked down his prominent nose as the potion popped and gurgled in exactly the right way.
"Well, Miss Greengrass," he began, "it appears that you have become somewhat passable at Potions." He picked up the ladle from off to the side and dipped it into the cauldron to fill up the final vial. "I'll examine your potions more closely and give you updated marks for the beginning of term. Don't expect a drastic change. You're dismissed."
Daphne jumped up, grabbed her bag, and ran out, throwing a hurried "Thank you, sir!" over her shoulder. She didn't want to have to talk to him any longer than was necessary.
In a mimic of earlier in the day, Daphne burst into her dorm and hurried to her bed to get ready to talk to her sister.
"Where have you been all night?" Pansy asked from her own bed. Tracy was kneeling behind her, brushing her short hair and separating it carefully for some complicated up-do.
Daphne was gathering up her nightgown and her own hairbrush. She didn't bother looking up from what she was doing when she answered with a simple, "Detention."
Amber let out a laugh from her corner. "You had detention, ha! What did you do? Fail at reading?"
Daphne rolled her eyes and stopped to stare down Amber with a supremely unimpressed expression. "Is that your only insult? Or are you just so stupid that you can't think of anything better?"
"Shut up! I'm not stupid! You are!" Her face was turning an interesting shade of red that honestly contrasted horribly with her blonde hair. "You're failing Potions! Today was a fluke and you know it! Next class you're going to be bad again, and then everyone will laugh at you just like this! Ha ha ha!" she finished, pointing mockingly at Daphne.
She didn't want to let it on, but one of Amber's barbs actually hit something in Daphne, a secret fear that lingered in the back of her mind. What if it was all a fluke and it didn't count? What if the next time she sat down to brew a potion, she was terrible at it again?
Obviously she couldn't let them see this. She would never let any of them have that kind of power over her ever again. So Daphne straightened up, lifted her chin, and glared at Amber and the others.
"I'll have you know," she began while crossing her arms, "my detention with Professor Snape tonight was for back-sassing him in our private meeting after class, and I was brewing all the potions that were taught to us already." She paused to let that sink in, really relishing in Tracy's horrified gasp when she admitted to talking back to a teacher. "I did all of them perfectly! He's going to fix my grades and then I'll be better than you in all of our classes, Amber. So how about you back off and leave me alone!"
Daphne spun around and marched into the bathroom, ending the argument. She cleaned up, changed, and threw herself into bed, pulling the curtains shut, all without commentary from the room's other occupants. Pumpkin continued to pace around the bed to nose and lick the curtains while Daphne cast her charm.
It was a huge relief to open the mirror and see her sister's profile as she read avidly from a thick book. She was in her bed too, already in her white nightgown, and tucked under her duvet with her hair completely loose. Whimsy was rolled over on her back with her paws stretched out in the air in deep sleep.
"Astoria! Hi! I'm here!" Daphne said into the compact.
Astoria startled, as did Whimsy, who jerked awake and rolled over with a startled expression.
"Daphne!" Astoria gasped as she put aside her book and plucked the compact off what was probably her bedside table. "I'm so happy to see you! What happened? How was detention?"
"It was okay," she said easily. She laid down on her side and put her mirror on her pillow. At that moment, Pumpkin curled herself up directly in front of Daphne's stomach. "Professor Greasy couldn't say anything bad about my potions!"
"That's wonderful! It's ridiculous that he gave you detention in the first place!" Astoria enthused earnestly.
Daphne smiled, then started worrying her lip. "Astoria, can I ask you something?"
"You can ask me anything!" she said, seemingly shocked that it was in question.
"Okay. Well…" Daphne took a moment to gather her thoughts. Astoria looked anxious, but waited with open concern. "Do you think it's possible that me being good at Potions is a fluke?"
Astoria tilted her head to the side, confused. "What do you mean? A fluke?"
"Yeah, I'm just thinking that, well, I was really bad at Potions before—"
"But then Mummy taught it to you."
"Yes," she agreed. "She did and I got better. But what if I get bad again?" Daphne rolled over onto her back and sighed. "What if all of this is just a streak of good luck and next week I'll be terrible again?"
"That's not going to happen!" Astoria exclaimed. Daphne looked over at her sister in the mirror. There was a high flush in her cheeks and a determined glint to her eyes. "Daphne, where is this coming from? This isn't like you."
It never failed to amaze Daphne how intuitive Astoria was, how she could pick up on all the unspoken truths in the world. "Well, I was sort of thinking it in the back of my head a little, but then Amber said that it was a fluke and—I don't know, it just hit me hard." Daphne curled closer to the mirror and started petting Pumpkin's soft back.
Astoria frowned and looked thoughtful. "Amber is the girl that thought goblins and trolls were the same beings, right?"
Daphne snorted out a laugh as she remembered Professor Quirell's bewildered face and anxious stuttering, as well as the raucous laughter of all the other students. That was a good day. "Yeah."
"Well, why would you listen to her? She sounds like an unreliable source on all things, Daphne!" Astoria nodded her head astutely with a little, silly smile.
"Oh really?" Daphne asked in a teasing tone. "And who, pray tell, is a reliable source on all things me?"
She smiled sweetly. "Me, of course! So, since I'm the expert here, you have to listen to me," she finished in a mock-stern voice, wagging her finger for good measure.
"Do I, now?" Daphne giggled.
"Yes! And I say that this Potions stuff is not a fluke!" Astoria's expression grew earnest, eyes widening and shimmering with sincerity. "Daphne, you're the smartest person I know. You can do this! You can do anything! I know you can, because you're amazing!"
Daphne felt her eyes tearing up even as a smile spread across her face. "You're the best sister ever, Astoria."
"No! You are!"
Daphne laughed and settled down for a nice night and a long talk with her sister, her heart light as a feather.
Every day, Astoria's fears of abandonment felt like less and less of a concern. It was just as it should have been from the start—her sister was actively making time for her. No more waiting around hoping that Daphne would pick up her mirror. No more crushing loneliness.
Her days flew by in pleasant whirlwinds of reading, writing little stories, drawing and painting, listening to the wizard radio, and playing with Whimsy. And then, just after dinner (sometimes even beforehand), Daphne would appear in the compact mirror, and they would tell each other all about their days. The weekends were even better, because they could talk for much longer and just hang out like they used to.
Daphne was an excellent storyteller and always had the funniest things to say about the people she dealt with on a daily basis. Astoria almost felt like she was at Hogwarts with her, for all she was learning about it. It was hard to believe that she still had three years until she could join her siblings at school, but she knew she could get through it if things continued going as well as this.
Everything was exactly as it should be.
"Good night, A," whispered Daphne one Thursday night.
"'Night, D," Astoria replied with a sleepy smile, closing her mirror and curling onto her side to fall asleep. She started dreaming about flying through clouds of cotton candy, when the scene suddenly changed.
She sank down, down, down through the earth to a wide, open, and extremely dark, greenish room. She could just make out a giant old man's face carved from stone at the far end, taking up the whole wall, and a huge dark shape shifting on the floor.
Before she could even scream, the room was replaced with a leather-bound book on a table. The book flew open on its own, revealing blank pages. And then, words began appearing in ink, written in an elegant script that Astoria didn't recognize.
What did the words say? She tried to focus in, but more and more lines of text kept writing themselves. It seemed like the book itself was pulsing like a heartbeat, getting faster and faster with each word. Then... something stabbed through the book, and deep black ink sprayed everywhere, pooling all around it and soaking every page.
She saw a dark stone wall with ghoulish red smears on it. Blood... And more words, ones she could make out this time: Enemies of the Heir Beware.
Astoria woke up screaming.
