Chapter 14
Katie Bell's "accident" was an open secret that circulated freely around the school, causing great unease among the students. More and more parents decided to take their children home, fearing something might happen to them. There seemed to be no safe corner in the magical world anymore. Darkness advanced, disappearances became more frequent. Rumors of battles in the streets of London with Muggles present. Mysterious deaths, migrations of Dementors. The Dark Lord's power was growing in the shadows.
"I don't think the curse was meant for Katie," Susan said with an anguished tone. "There must be something more important, a deeper motive..."
Her siblings remained silent. Edmund held their parents' letter, in which Helen and Robert urged their four children to be careful and to obey Albus and Polly in everything. Peter looked at Edmund with slight remorse, thinking about the plan they had been concocting for days. Slughorn had already found the connection between Professor Digory's Mansion and the McLaggen family. It was only a matter of days before he set a date. And then, the kids would have to find a way to get past Dumbledore, and maybe Polly, to be allowed to leave.
For now, the only invitation from the professor was for the Slug Club Christmas Party. All four were invited, and each of them was to bring a partner to the event. Susan was thrilled with the idea, Peter and Edmund had to pretend to be, and Lucy had no idea who she wanted to accompany her.
"It's only October!" Susan said with a smile. "You have plenty of time to think about it, Lu."
"I guess," she smiled, not very convinced. "Strange that he's organizing it so early."
"He wants to make sure Harry Potter attends this time," Edmund said.
The topic was widely discussed at school, distracting students from everything happening outside. Apparently, more students than the Pevensies had thought wanted to attend Professor Slughorn's party. Peter quickly realized in Herbology class that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were also discussing the topic out loud.
"Slug Club..." he heard the redhead say with a mocking smile. "Pathetic! Well, I hope you have a great time at that party. Why don't you try to flirt with McLaggen? Then Slughorn could name you king and queen of the eminences..."
Peter couldn't help but overhear that sentence, and a feeling of discomfort assaulted him, while a small knot tied in his stomach. What did McLaggen have to do with this? It seems the boy had ignored his words and was still interested in flirting with Hermione. Enough to bother Ronald Weasley. He didn't know what scared him more, Cormac's attempts to catch the brunette's attention or the redhead's poorly disguised jealousy over those attempts. And he, from the back table, couldn't help but feel double the jealousy.
"We can bring guests," Hermione replied to her friend, "and I was thinking of asking you to come. But since you find it so stupid, I'll ask someone else!"
Peter's heart skipped a beat. Again, twice over. The girl's proposal to Ron hurt like a stab in the chest. Even though he had seen it coming, even though he knew about Hermione's feelings for Weasley, hearing it firsthand caught him off guard. He felt angry. Hadn't he promised himself to push aside the topic of Hermione? Hadn't he decided that way he'd be safer? So why did seeing the blush on the girl's cheeks make him so angry? Why was he acting like a child again? He was a king; he was supposed to act like one. Protect. And yet, there he was, short of breath, watching the scene as a spectator, unable to even completely take his eyes off the girl.
"Would you have asked me?" Ron asked, in a surprisingly tender tone.
"Yes," Hermione Granger replied angrily. "But now I see you'd rather I flirt with McLaggen..."
An odd silence followed. Harry Potter shifted in his seat, moving from side to side with certain nervousness, apparently uncomfortable with his friends' conversation, which they seemed to have forgotten he was there for.
"No, I didn't say that..." Ron murmured.
At that moment, Harry Potter struck one of his bowls, shattering it on the floor.
"Reparo!" exclaimed the boy.
The noise made by "The Chosen One" caused the other two members of the trio to realize they were not alone. Hermione, nervously, focused back on her copy of "Carnivorous Trees of the World" to find the correct way to squeeze Snargaluff pods; Ron, remained silent, and although embarrassed, his expression reflected an undeniable joy that made Peter feel even worse.
"Pass it here, Harry," requested Hermione. "Here it says you have to prick them with something sharp..."
"Professor!" exclaimed Hannah, pulling Peter out of his distressing daze—"Peter's not feeling well. May I accompany him to the infirmary?"
"Of course, dear," Professor Sprout replied, looking at the Gryffindor with concern.
Without a moment to think, Hannah Abbott helped the boy pack his things into his backpack, and under the watchful eye of Susan Bones, the two students left the greenhouse. Peter couldn't help but turn back towards where Hermione was seated, who was looking at him with a worried expression. Despite the embarrassment he felt inside, his only, foolish thought at that moment was how pretty the girl looked, with strands escaping her quickly done bun, under the green and golden light of the greenhouse.
He felt even stupider.
"There was no need for you to do that," said Peter, looking at Hannah in a tone that was somewhere between reproach and gratitude.
"Nonsense," she said—"you were pale."
"I felt dizzy," he lied.
"Don't lie to me, Peter Pevensie," warned the Hufflepuff—"I won't force you to tell me, feel free, but don't lie to me..."
"Then you know what's happened, do you?"—he said—"I'm just upset."
"Because of the conversation you just witnessed right in front of us?"—she probed.
"Yes," he affirmed.
"About Hermione Granger?"
"Yes."
"I knew it," she said, unable to suppress a slight smile.
"Then why ask?"—he questioned.
"I wanted confirmation," she said—"you've surprised me, to be honest. You seem tougher. You always keep your composure. It's hard to fully know what you think."
"Well, today I wasn't so strong," he admitted, embarrassed.
"You don't always have to be, you know?"—she said in a sweet tone.
Peter didn't respond, but gently wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulders, resting it there softly. Hannah smiled and lifted her hand to ruffle Peter's hair.
"You're an incredible friend," Peter said.
"Again..."—she laughed—"I already knew that..."
Astoria left the Slytherin common room with a huff. She was exhausted, tired from the tension in her muscles, drained by the constant headache that seemed to accompany her every hour, and fed up with both Slytherins and Gryffindors, the whispers, the judgments. She just wanted everything to stop, for the world to spin slowly, as it did before.
She walked through the hallways toward the library, unhurriedly, taking in every corner of the castle. Students continued their day-to-day, bustling from one place to another, and she felt completely out of place. Entering the room filled with books, she headed to the ancient runes section. The library was particularly quiet that Wednesday afternoon. Her favorite spot was empty. She left her backpack there and went to look for the book she had come for. However, the aisle she needed was occupied.
"Slughorn has also invited me to the party," said Anthony Goldstein, "and I was thinking, maybe, we could go together..."
"Ah," replied his companion, "that would have been great, Anthony... but I already have a date for Slug’s Christmas Party."
Astoria recognized the girl's voice immediately. It was Susan Pevensie, the older sister of her best friend. Goldstein's face darkened a bit, and though his tone was polite, it was clearly sad when he responded.
"I suppose you're going with Davies."
"Yes, I asked him the other day... it just happened..." the girl stammered, "another time, okay?"
"You don't have to feel sorry for me," said Anthony, "it was just an idea. I'm sure Henry will be great company."
"Okay..." she said, still hesitant, "see you later in the common room?"
"Sure," he said with a smile, before turning back to the shelf.
Astoria felt a bit guilty for having watched the scene. She didn't really want to, but she needed that book. Susan crossed paths with her at the end of the aisle, and said goodbye with a distracted smile. Astoria moved forward, in search of her book, to where Anthony was still searching for something.
Feeling uncomfortable, she waited for the boy to move away from the area. It took him a few seconds to realize she had stopped there.
"Ah, sorry," he said with a timid smile, "I was distracted. Are you looking for something?"
"Runic Arcana: Mysteries and Methods of Ancient Runes," she said, reading from her scrap of parchment.
"What are the odds?" he said with a half-smile, "that's exactly the book I was looking for... isn't it a bit advanced for a fourth-year student?"
"I'm a bit advanced for a fourth-year student," she replied with another half-smile.
"Greengrass, right?" he asked.
For a moment, Astoria feared the boy had noticed her green tie and, realizing who she was, would treat her differently, as everyone did. But that wasn't the case. She nodded, and he smiled.
"Any other day I'd be a gentleman and let you have it," he said, "but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to share it. I've procrastinated too much with an assignment, and I need to finish it now... is that okay with you?"
"Of course," she said with a smile, "I wouldn't expect this from a Ravenclaw, but we'll share."
"Well..." he said, "most wouldn't expect a Slytherin to share either."
"It seems we're both black sheep in our flock," Astoria said, smiling, "shall we get started then?"
The two students headed to the table she had reserved. They began to work, initially uncomfortable, focused, and in silence. But as the hours passed and their work neared completion, they started to talk sporadically, eventually finding themselves engrossed in an unexpected conversation. They discussed trivial things - their teachers, classmates, anecdotes. They simply talked, like two normal people. Astoria slowly felt the tension in her back ease, if only for a while.
"So you're friends with Edmund Pevensie," he said, "he's one of the best Quidditch players in the history of the school."
"You're friends with Susan, aren't you?" Astoria couldn't help but ask.
"I wouldn't exactly call her a friend..." he said, somewhat uncomfortably.
"Sorry, I thought..." she said, "since I saw you talking earlier..."
"Pretty pathetic, isn't it?" he said, trying to laugh.
"Not at all," she said, "her loss..."
"I don't know if I'll go," he interrupted, "I'm not so keen anymore."
"You should go," she said, "a Slytherin would. For two reasons. It shows you're above that awkward moment in the library, and at the same time, you're attending a dinner that, although probably unbearable, could open doors for you in the future. Slughorn has influence."
"I'm not a Slytherin," he said.
"Unfortunately for you," she laughed, "I was just saying what I would do."
"Aren't you invited?" he countered.
"No," she said, "I've made it a point not to draw attention to myself this year. I've had enough of that."
"But you would go?" he probed, "if you were invited, you'd go."
"Yes, I already told you,” She replied.
"Well, then you're invited."
Astoria looked up from the parchment she was writing on. He was serious. A Ravenclaw was inviting her, Astoria Greengrass, a Slytherin, to a Christmas party at the height of an impending magical war. The thought felt surreal on one hand, and incredibly ordinary on the other. She missed ordinary.
"Do you want to go with me to the Christmas Party at Slug’s Eminence Club, Astoria Greengrass?" he said in a playful tone, breaking the silence.
The Slytherin smiled.
"I don't see why not," she said.
The door to the headmaster's office swung open wide, with hardly the pre-emptive knock audible by Polly Plummer, catching Dumbledore off-guard and causing him to look up in surprise.
"There's more, isn't there?" Polly blurted out.
"Polly..."
"It wasn't just the locket, the cup, and the diadem, was it?" Polly clarified. "There's more."
Albus waved his wand, and the door slammed shut behind the professor. The headmaster gave a sad look towards the elderly woman.
"I believe so..." he said calmly.
"Is that why you want my memories?" she asked. "Is that it?"
"Yes, that's why..." the professor confirmed. "There might be more."
"Might be?" she pressed. "I'm not foolish, Albus... If he managed to return, it's because there were always more."
"Or because the locket wasn't truly destroyed," the headmaster suggested, pausing the conversation.
"What do you mean?"
"Regulus wasn't able to," he explained. "He feared we would hand it over to the ministry. And he hid the truth. The locket was stolen from him. Afterward, he went searching for it, and that's when he disappeared."
"How many more people are you going to lie to, Albus?" Polly asked furiously. "Helen Pevensie wrote to me. She'll be here soon. And you're going to have to give us some answers."
"It's safer if not all of us hold the truth," Albus argued. "Or are you going to tell me what you know about the Pevensies?"
"That's very different, Albus."
"What I know, or think I know, is different too."
"When did you know?" she interrupted. "That there were more."
"I suspected..." he began, opening a drawer. "...since Harry Potter came to my office from the Chamber of Secrets with this."
Albus pulled out a diary with a large hole in the middle from the drawer. Polly approached to examine it and saw the name in gold letters, "Tom Marvolo Riddle."
"You have us all in the dark," she accused.
"Many could accuse you of the same," the man replied, unflustered. "No one has the complete picture."
"Not even Voldemort," she countered. "What I know, the Dark Lord doesn't, nor should he... that's why I keep it. You, on the other hand, hide truths about our enemy, which obviously he does know. It's very different, Albus."
"It's the method I believe best," he said. "But I need your cooperation. Your memories from school, Polly. Everything."
"Fine, if that's the case. I'll join your meetings with Mr. Potter," she declared. "We'll examine my memories, and I'll know everything you have to tell him."
"That's not..."
"There's no deal otherwise, Albus," she stated.
The elderly man remained silent for several interminable seconds, staring at the as much brave as insolent Polly Plummer as if he were once again looking at that lively Gryffindor student who always had a peculiar problem with following the rules.
A head movement was all the response needed.