Chapter 43 - Astoria — The Conversation

Winnie rolled down the window and grinned. "My mum's not home — hurry up and get in!"

"Thrilling. I'm on my way."

Praeris walked around to the boot, stowed her luggage, and climbed into the passenger seat.

Winnie drove the way gods drove: fast, aggressive, and utterly without mercy. She loved overtaking and despised being overtaken, and the entire journey she had eyes on all six directions and her mouth going in all eight. Someone unfamiliar with her might have thought she was reciting poetry. Her literary education was thorough enough that even her cursing had rhythm.

By the time Praeris stepped out at King's Cross Station, she checked the clock. Nearly half an hour faster than old Tom.

Thrilling. Truly thrilling.

Praeris braced herself against the car door, fighting down the urge to be sick. "Is swearing your method of acceleration?"

"Pretty much." Winnie's grin stretched wide as a boomerang. "My throttle's on my mouth. Open, shut — one burst of speed."

Praeris shook her head and picked up her suitcase. "Miss Winnie, I'm genuinely curious how Ms. Prim has survived this long."

Winnie laughed. "Easy. When she's with me, she never lets me drive."

"Worth studying. It seems Ms. Prim possesses not only excellent judgment but a powerful survival instinct." Praeris's tone was full of regret. "I, on the other hand, fall considerably short."

She said goodbye to her unreliable friend Winnie, passed through Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and boarded the Hogwarts Express.

"Prince—" A familiar voice came from behind her.

Praeris turned around. Her first reaction: "Who are you?"

"You've overworked your brain and now it's broken?!" Draco said, openly incredulous. "You can't even recognize me?"

She had recognized him immediately. But all three of them had changed quite a bit over the summer, Draco especially, it was as though he had grown up in an instant.

Praeris shook her head. "Genuinely can't place you. Some great alchemist of the mind, perhaps."

He was a pure theorist. Two months of talking, not one sign of actually doing anything.

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a look. They knew better than to let these two keep going.

Draco would work himself up, lose the argument, and lose any fight that followed. And they couldn't take his side, if they helped him, he'd get angry at them too.

"Prince, have you found a seat yet?" Crabbe said.

"We've still got one in ours," Goyle said.

Crabbe shot him a glare. You want to put the two of them in the same compartment? We're slow, not suicidal.

Praeris declined gracefully. "Thank you, but I'm looking for Millie and Pansy. See you at school."

She walked away without a backward glance. Draco turned and glared at Goyle. "Who wants to share a compartment with her!"

Goyle awkwardly hunched his shoulders. You were the one who called out to greet her. You were the one who snapped at her. And now you're the one who doesn't want to share a compartment. Goyle kept this observation strictly to himself.

Millicent, Pansy, and Daphne Greengrass were already deep in conversation when Praeris found them. Beside Daphne sat a long-haired girl who looked about half like her sister, sitting tucked into the corner with both hands pressed flat on the seat, like she was bracing for something.

Millicent shoved Pansy without ceremony. "You move to the other side. I'm sitting with Prae!"

"Bulstrode, you never grow up! Praeris doesn't want you anymore!" Pansy wailed at full shriek.

Daphne held up her mirror and examined her reflection with great satisfaction. "Pansy, what exactly is the difference between you and Millicent? Oh, and Millicent — I don't want what you don't want!"

"Who are you calling a what?! Daphne Greengrass, you are dead!"

Pansy lunged. Daphne dodged in a panic. In the corner, Astoria curled into herself and clutched her own arms.

Praeris leaned against the compartment door, expression flat. "Ladies," she said, unhurried. "Keep it down. The soundproofing in here is terrible."

It took a while, but the girls finally settled. They moved from physical combat back to verbal.

"Look at yourselves." Millicent gave Pansy and Daphne a withering look. "Can't you be more like Prae and set a decent example for the little one?"

Astoria lowered her head shyly and kept eating the snacks Praeris had given her, bar snacks from the Leaky Cauldron: onion rings and crispy peanuts.

Daphne covered her mouth, laughing. "Millicent, you sound exactly like my mother. Oh, Daphne, look at your sister, you're going to corrupt Lia!"

Then she turned to Pansy. "Pan, do you have a photo of that boy? Let me see."

Pansy looked scandalized. "What are you thinking? How long have we even known each other? If he sent me a photo that fast, I'd dump him faster than he sent it."

She spoke with absolute conviction. "Men cannot be too forward. Reserved is what's attractive."

"Is that so?" Daphne's expression said she knew exactly who she was dealing with. "But if he's truly reserved, you'll dump him for not being enthusiastic enough."

Millicent looked like she was suffering. "Will someone please remove these two? Astoria, don't listen to a single word they say."

Even Praeris, reading quietly in the corner, couldn't quite stop the corner of her mouth from pulling up. She was still on the Norse wizard stories, the same book as before.

Little Astoria spoke up in a small, careful voice. "Bulstrode, will I be sorted into Slytherin?"

Praeris glanced at Millicent. Their eyes met.

Millicent cleared her throat. "Getting into Slytherin is no easy thing, Miss Greengrass. There are rigorous tests."

The peanut in Astoria's hand dropped onto the table. She looked up, tense. "What kind of tests?"

"So many questions!" Daphne cut in, her sisterly mercy nonexistent. "You'll find out when the time comes."

Praeris smiled to herself. Growing up was just the process of repeating the same things the people before you had done. They had officially evolved into adults with terrible senses of humor.

At 3:34, the rain started. It pattered against the windows in a steady, drowsy rhythm, and the girls drifted off one by one.

Daphne, who regularly announced her contempt for her little sister, quietly slipped off her cloak and draped it over a sleeping Astoria. Even Praeris, who didn't usually nap, had her head propped on one arm and was nodding off in slow, helpless increments.

PITTER-PATTER. PITTER-PATTER.

Praeris was woken by the corridor lights cutting through the window. The lamps inside the train were on. Outside was pure black, nothing visible at all.

"Are we almost there?" Astoria had woken up without anyone noticing, wrapped in her sister's cloak, voice barely above a murmur.

The train was slowing down. That was what prompted the question.

"No." Praeris drew her wand from her robes. "It's not time yet."

The words had barely left her mouth when the corridor outside erupted in noise. Others had noticed too, curious, restless, confused about why the train had stopped.

Something CLATTERED off an overhead rack. Then all the lights went out at once, as completely as if someone had cast an Extinguishing Charm across the entire train.

Like the opening scene of a ghost film, Praeris thought.

"Praeris?" Millicent's voice came out of the dark.

Praeris raised her wand toward the compartment door. "It's fine. Door shut, lock it!"

There was no physical lock, but Praeris sealed the door with magic. Short of someone more powerful casting an Unlocking Charm, nobody was opening it anytime soon.

They were on a magical train in the middle of nowhere, with no way out and no way of knowing what was happening outside. Running out recklessly was how you stumbled into trouble. Staying put and observing was the smarter choice.

"Shh, Millie. Let me listen." She pressed herself against the door.

At first, she could hear students in the corridor. Young students moved differently from adults, different weight distribution, different impact when their feet hit the floor. Easy to distinguish.

After a while, even those footsteps went quiet. The nearby corridor fell silent. Somewhere far down the train, there were sounds she couldn't quite make out.

Then, a single set of adult footsteps. They passed their compartment and continued toward the front of the train.

The lights came back on not long after those footsteps faded. As though nothing had happened at all.

Praeris straightened up, narrowed her eyes, held the thought for a moment. Then she raised her wand and lifted the Locking Charm.

"Prae, what was that?"

Daphne let go of Astoria. Astoria immediately reached out and grabbed her sister's sleeve.

Praeris shook her head. "A minor problem. A teacher handled it. The train's moving again, we'll be there soon."

The train came to a stop at the platform. The mountain air was damp and cold, sharper for the rain, and Praeris rubbed her arms. She raised her wand and cast an Umbrella Charm, then stood watching as Daphne steered Astoria toward Hagrid.

They had all expected Astoria to be frightened. Instead, the little girl looked back at them once, then turned and plunged into the rain, stumbling toward the crowd at a run.

"She's not scared at all?" Millicent fell in at the back, carrying Nina's cat carrier.

Daphne scoffed. "I told you. That's what she does, uses that pitiful little face to fool everyone. The girl has no fear whatsoever."

They helped each other into the invisible carriages.

"It's magic? The carriage moves on its own?" Millicent lifted the curtain and peered out.

Praeris shook her head. "I read about them in the Ministry's Directory of Fantastic Beasts. The horses pulling these carriages are called Thestrals."

"How do you know they're horses if you can't see them?"

"Some people can see them," Praeris said. "Those who have witnessed death and come to terms with it."

Millicent inhaled sharply. "Then I'd very much rather never see them."

"Look, quick, look!" Pansy slapped Praeris's thigh and pointed at the iron gates. "Draco definitely knew about this."

Praeris pushed her hand away and fixed her gaze on the hooded figures gathered by the gates, their presence settling over everything like a cold rot.

"So that's why the train had to stop." She narrowed her eyes. "They can't catch Black, and the great Minister Fudge is getting desperate. They're terrified their incompetence will go public, so they've stationed Dementors around Hogwarts instead."

She paused.

"Can't catch one prisoner? Simple solution, treat the students like prisoners. A form of prisoner conservation, really. They've even managed to increase the count."

Pansy, Daphne, and Millicent all laughed, sharp and mocking.

When they reached the Great Hall, Praeris noticed immediately: no Professor McGonagall, Gryffindor's Head of House and Deputy Headmistress. No Harry Potter. No Granger.

Draco's blond head appeared at her shoulder. "Stop looking. Potter baby got scared unconscious by the Dementors. He's probably curled up in his Head of House Mommy's arms right now, begging for comfort."

Praeris pushed him back. "Who's the new Prefect?"

"You care so much about Marcus. Thanks to you, he's finally on track to graduate." Draco's tone was pure acid.

Praeris had no interest in decoding whatever that was supposed to mean. She turned to Pansy. "Who's the new Prefect?"

"Terence Higgs and Catherine Selwyn. Oh — here comes our little Lia," Pansy said.

Praeris was honestly not thrilled about the change. Marcus and Miss Farley had complemented each other well: one firm, one measured.

Terence Higgs was the Slytherin Seeker before Draco, the sort who played within the rules and tried to win within them too. She could only hope Selwyn was strong enough to hold the position.

The Sorting Hat sat on Astoria's head for a very long time. Daphne's expression darkened by degrees.

Pansy patted her arm. "Maybe it's having a chat with her, like it did with Praeris back then."

Finally, the Hat shouted: "Slytherin!"

The whole table exhaled.

Little Astoria pattered down to the end of the bench and sat, completely unaware that her sister had nearly come apart at the seams. She spotted the four of them looking at her and waved.

Millicent pressed a hand to her chest. "Prae, what do I do? She's too adorable. I'm starting to feel genuinely guilty. How could I have tricked her?"

Praeris looked at her steadily. "So next year, no more teasing first-years?"

Millicent rubbed her nose. "Well. I wouldn't say never. If the opportunity comes up, I'll probably still do it."

Utterly unsurprising.

The Sorting Ceremony ended and Dumbledore rose to speak.

He addressed the Dementors first. When he paused on the words "Invisibility Cloak," Praeris glanced at Harry Potter.

The Invisibility Cloak. The one mentioned in The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

Praeris blinked slowly.

She had suspected this for a long time. So that was how they wandered the corridors at night without ever being caught. Then why hadn't they used it when they were smuggling out the dragon?

If they had, a younger version of herself would never have had to feel that inexplicable guilt, would never have traded away the only thing she owned.

That poetry collection. It didn't suit her character at all. It was battered, falling apart, a Muggle thing through and through.

But it was the first sincere gift Praeris had ever received. Given by someone who liked her, who liked that thin, poor, ignorant, lost girl seething with resentment at everything fate had handed her.

She had given it away herself.

Praeris pulled her attention back. What are you dwelling on? That was your choice. It's over.

Dumbledore moved on to introduce the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor: Remus Lupin.

The professor looked like a man life had not been kind to. Not just the poverty, though that was plain enough. He looked like someone who had stopped expecting things to get better.

➤ Next: Third Year