The Distance Between Us
The morning air was crisp as Astoria rose before dawn, moving through her morning routine in silence. She dressed quietly, slipping into her uniform with slow, deliberate movements, and ran a brush through her golden locks without truly seeing herself in the mirror.
The castle was barely stirring as she made her way down to the Great Hall, the enchanted ceiling reflecting the first hints of daylight. She took her usual seat at the Slytherin table, but rather than lingering, she grabbed a treacle tart and left in a hurry, dodging Ominis' inquisitive glance as he attempted to bid her good morning.
It was Tuesday. Alchemy and Potions before lunch, then Transfiguration and Charms after. Normally, she'd sit with Sebastian, but today—like the past few days—she didn't.
Astoria had always kept secrets about her Ancient Magic, but with Sebastian, she had been more open than she ever should have been. From the first time he asked her about it, she had trusted him without hesitation—despite Professor Fig's warnings, despite the dangers, she had told him things no one else knew. He was someone who understood her.
But now, as she edged closer to the truth, she wasn't sure how much she should share—not anymore.
Ever since Magnus had threatened her friends, ever since she had seen the darkness in his gaze and the certainty in his words, Astoria had known what she needed to do. She couldn't keep her friends safe. The next best thing was keeping them away.
And so, she distanced herself.
Sebastian noticed.
By midweek, he was growing increasingly frustrated. He had caught sight of her in the hallways, only for her to turn on her heel and vanish down another corridor. He had barely seen her at breakfast, and even during Defence Against the Dark Arts—where they always partnered together—she packed her things and bolted out of the room at the first opportunity. He tried the Undercroft, but it was empty. She wasn't in the common room either. And the final straw had been earlier that afternoon when he saw her exiting the library, her pace quickening as soon as she spotted him.
She was avoiding him.
"Alright, what did you do?" Ominis asked dryly, closing his book in the common room that evening.
Sebastian scowled from his seat, arms crossed. "Why do you assume I did something?"
Ominis raised a brow. "Because it's you."
Sebastian huffed. "I didn't do anything. She's the one acting strange. She won't even look at me."
Ominis hummed. "Perhaps she has finally came to her senses."
Sebastian shot him a glare.
Meanwhile, somewhere beyond Hogwarts, in a darkened study, Magnus Dainforth sat across from a hooded figure, his fingers steepled in thought. A flickering candle illuminated the rough edges of his face, casting deep shadows beneath his sharp eyes.
"She's avoiding him," the hooded figure observed.
"As expected," Magnus murmured. "The more isolated she feels, the easier she will be to reach."
"She's stubborn."
Magnus exhaled through his nose. "Of course she will. That's the fun of it."
The hooded figure said nothing more, and Magnus sat back in his chair, satisfied. It was only a matter of time.
Friday night fell over Hogwarts in a cascade of silver moonlight, and Astoria crept through the dimly lit corridors, her pulse steady despite the nerves coiling in her stomach. Tonight, she would return to the tunnels—alone.
No Sebastian. No Ominis. No one to stop her.
She retraced the path through the castle, descending deep beneath the school into the ancient passages where she had first discovered Isidora's study. The air was thick with dust, the scent of old parchment and timeworn stone filling her lungs. With careful precision, she retrieved the key she had uncovered in the Map Chamber and fitted it into a concealed compartment within the study. A quiet click echoed through the chamber as a hidden mechanism shifted.
A doorway revealed itself, leading deeper underground.
Astoria stepped inside.
The tunnel stretched onward, illuminated by eerie blue torches that lit themselves as she passed. She moved cautiously, fingers grazing the damp walls, heart hammering against her ribs. Then, finally, she reached the end—a vast circular chamber with an ornate stone dais at its centre.
And there it was, atop the dais—a Pensieve.
A familiar sight at this point, Astoria approached slowly and peer inside. The world melted away, and suddenly—
She was somewhere else.
A small, dimly lit cottage. The walls were lined with bookshelves overflowing with tomes, and at the centre of the room stood a younger Isidora Morganach, barely ten years old, sitting before a man with sharp eyes and a knowing smile.
Caen Dainforth.
Astoria's breath caught.
The scene unfolded before her like a nightmare—Caen speaking in a soft, persuasive voice, painting pictures of untapped potential, of power that should belong to the people. Of injustice. Of a world that feared true magic.
"You are special, Isidora," Caen whispered, kneeling before the little girl. "They will not tell you this, but you are more powerful than they could ever dream. The world needs your magic. Your father needs your magic."
The young Isidora hesitated, her small fingers curling into her skirt. "Why can't I use it now?"
"You're not ready, but you will be. When you're a bit older." Caen nodded, his expression unreadable. "If you had your magic, your brother might have lived."
Astoria staggered back, gasping as she was pulled from the memory, the weight of the revelation crushing her. She sucked in a shaky breath, heart pounding in her ears.
Caen had met Isidora before. He had planted the seeds of her downfall long before she ever stepped foot in Hogwarts.
Astoria clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. She was more determined than ever to uncover the truth about Caen's secrets and find the Vault of Transmutation. Confusion clouded her thoughts, but one thing was certain—she could not involve her friends. Not in this.
She spent nearly two hours scouring the chamber, searching for anything that might reveal the next step. But there was nothing. No way forward. Another key, another puzzle—this was getting exhausting.
How did Magnus even find the vault?
Astoria forced herself not to dwell on that thought. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she rubbed her temples.
Trusting Magnus was not an option.
Defeated, she made her way back to her room, her expedition ending for the night.