I woke up the next day feeling groggy. It was Sunday, which meant there were no classes, so I rolled around in bed until Daphne came back in the afternoon, pulling the drapes off me.
"Hey! I was using that," I whined, as if that would persuade her. I lifted my body onto my elbows and looked over at her. She had her arms crossed at me.
"You sneaked out again last night, didn't you? That's why you're still tired," she clicked her tongue disapprovingly at me. "Well, anyway, you should know that Sirius Black sneaked into the castle again. He got into the Gryffindor common room, and apparently he tried to kill a student, thinking it was Potter — at least, that's what people are saying."
"Wait, are you serious?" I said, alarmed, and this time, fully sitting up straight.
"Yes. And needless to say that security is extra tighter at Hogwarts now. And you shouldn't be sneaking out anymore," she said warily. I nodded, processing everything. "You know, you could've encountered Sirius Black, last night—"
"I know. I'm already freaking out over it. Don't remind me," I huffed, trying not to let the anxiety consume me. "But I didn't even stay out that late, though. It's just that when I came back, I couldn't fall asleep, hence why I've been sleeping all morning."
"Well. Please don't sneak out again, okay? I don't want you to, erm, like, die, or something," Daphne managed to say.
"Yeah, I won't," I reassured her. She nodded, though she still eyed me suspiciously.
"Anyway, get up. Lancaster wants to speak with you. He's just outside the door," she said. I perked an eyebrow up but didn't say anything as I swiftly got out of bed.
Still in my pajamas, I traipse to the door of our dorm room. Sure, enough, James was standing there, seemingly looking off into space, before brightening up when he saw me arrive.
"Hey," I said. I shut the door behind me, knowing Daphne would want to listen in. "Is this about Sirius Black?"
James nodded, looking around him warily before leaning in and saying lowly, "We can't sneak out anymore. And I mean it this time. We were lucky last night. I know you care about your potions, but you shouldn't sneak out by yourself either."
"Yeah," I agreed. "I understand. I won't go out past curfew anymore."
"Good," he said with a firm nod, before sighing with relief.
The next few days went by in a blur. All that people were talking about was Sirius Black again, though this time, it felt a lot scarier with the fact of him actually trying to murder a student. I tried not to think too much about it and just focused on my potions.
I managed to sneak my cauldron back into the dormitory and would now be brewing in our bathroom, hiding my cauldron under the sink. The other girls agreed not let anyone else know as to not have a repeat of last year's fiasco explosion caused by Malfoy. Millicent needed a little bit of a bribe to keep her quiet (unfortunately, that meant one of my new Polyjuice Potion vials), but everything seemed to be going smoothly now.
By the time I looked at my calendar to finally plan out my schoolwork, we were already nearing the end of February, the third Hogsmeade trip due to occur on the last weekend of the month.
On Saturday, we set foot to the village, and I went with Daphne and Tracey just like last time. As we traveled just us three, away from our dormmates, the topic of pairing Pansy with Wyatt came up.
"What happened to having you all eat near the S4 to get Wyatt used to Pansy's presence?" I queried the both of them.
"Yeah, about that," Daphne began, huffing as we marched through the village together, our breaths foggy. "Pansy really insists on eating with Draco. It's hard to get her to move."
"Maybe we could host another slow dance," Tracey offered with an unconvinced smile.
"How do we plan parties in Slytherin house anyway?" I asked them as we neared The Three Broomsticks. "Is it just word of mouth or through an announcement?
"Definitely word of mouth. We can't have Snape extending our curfew to next year," Daphne responded, shaking her head as she pulled the door open, letting us all inside before her.
"Merlin, we should've done it during Valentine's day. It would have been perfect," Daphne realized suddenly as we gathered at the entrance of The Three Broomsticks. Tracey and I hummed in agreement.
"Seems pretty busy today," I noted, scanning the busy tables of the tavern.
"That's winter days for you," Tracey said with a shrug, her hands in her pockets.
"Yes, a table for three? Just one moment. We're a little busy at the moment," the gorgeous brunette waitress said to us. It seemed Madame Rosmerta needed some extra hands today.
The waitress walked around, seeking an empty table for us. Just then, the door's bell jingled as another customer entered the premises.
He was a tall silver-haired man with a pointed face and narrowed dark eyes. He had a black fur coat on, and wore a black-furred ushanka. Gold embellished both his coat and his hat. The man simply radiated opulence, and he scanned the busy tavern with disinterest.
I avoided making eye contact with the scary-looking man, and instead, directed my focus on my two friends that I came here with.
Before I could contribute anything to the conversation they were having, however, someone grabbed me by the arms and pulled me away at once. I barely had time to register what was happening until my kidnapper rounded the corner, looking behind himself warily.
"What's going on?" I asked Isaiah. He was hiding with me behind a pillar. He pressed a finger to his lips, and looked behind himself again — at the entrance.
"Are you hiding from the fur-coated man at the entrance? Why did you drag me here?" I queried.
"Couldn't have him figure out who you were by accident. Come on. Just eat with us. We'll hide you—"
"What? Who is he—?"
Isaiah grabbed my forearm and brought me to his booth where Elijah and James were sitting too. For some reason, Wyatt wasn't there with them. Perhaps he went to the lavatory.
"Well, now it's going to be obvious who she is if she sits with us," Elijah scoffed at my arrival.
"What is going on?" I repeated. I looked back the entrance. Tracey and Daphne were looking at me confusedly while the man that was behind them was engrossed in a conversation with Madame Rosmerta.
"My father," James said.
"Finally, someone bothers answering my questions," I said, slumping down into the booth. Then it doned on me. "Hang on — why should I hide from him? Will he kill me—?"
"No, he won't," James assured me as if the notion of it was ridiculous. "Anyway, I'll handle it if he asks about it."
"Hasn't he already?" Isaiah questioned.
"He has," James shrugged. "But I haven't answered his owls."
"That ought to play out nicely. He still hasn't seen the scar?" Isaiah asked James who shrugged once again. His burn scar lay in the open under his bangs, framing his eye like a punch of pink eyeshadow.
"Well, apparently Snape didn't tell him who did it, just that I got a scar from dueling. He's been nagging me to expose who did it," James responded as if he couldn't care less about it, though I sensed that was all a front. He drank from his butterbeer as he nervously glanced over at his father.
"Why's he here today?" I asked, peering over at Astarion Lancaster. It was a surprise he hadn't noticed us all staring at him from afar — or perhaps he had but simply chose to ignore it. His conversation with the pub's owner seemed to interest him more.
"Probably for more business opportunities," James said plainly. He drank more from his butterbeer.
Mr. Lancaster finally threw a glance in our direction before waving goodbye to Madame Rosmerta. We all immediately looked away from him as he did, and I slouched down, hoping he didn't know anything about what I'd (allegedly) done to James.
A hot quiet minute passed before the silver-haired man presented himself at our table.
"Ah. Jamieson," he said, eyes glued to James' scar. "What an unfortunate location for a scar. How disappointing to hear a girl did that to you."
I tried not to let my widened eyes show. I thought James hadn't told his dad anything. Did he find out through someone else? Or did Snape reveal more than we thought?
"Hello, Father," James said rather formerly. "What brings you to Hogsmeade?"
"Well, I had business to tend to, more potential locations to buy out. Thought I'd stop by and see my son. And his shameful scar," he added bitterly. I wanted to wipe the disgusted look off his face.
"Well, it was nice to see you, Father," James said, sounding unconvinced.
"Likewise," his father pursed his lips. "Any idea where I could find the young Blackwood daughter? I must have a word with her."
My heart sank, but I tried not to show it. The S4 (or I suppose S3 without Wyatt there) vigilantly kept their eyes on Mr. Lancaster and away from me.
"How could I possibly know the location of someone I have never met?" James replied innocently.
"Ah. She must be important to you if you're so inclined to protect her identity," his father mused. His eyes roved over at James' group of friends until they landed on me. I tried not to show my panic. "And who must you be? Maeve Blackwood perhaps?"
"No, sir. I'm Amirah Flowers," I said without thinking. I was ever so grateful Amirah wasn't here right now.
"Flowers? Your surname doesn't ring a bell. You must be a mudblood," Astarion Lancaster said.
Isaiah's hair turned dark red, and he clenched his fists under the table.
"Oh. Did the word mudblood upset you, metamorphmagus? Is this Flowers girl your girlfriend? Well, my apologies," Mr. Lancaster said remorselessly and with a pompous laugh. "I'm sure she makes a fine witch. I'm afraid my use of the word is simply a force of habit."
"We were just about to leave, Father," James said suddenly. He grabbed his coat and began putting it on.
"Ah. Leaving so soon?" Mr. Lancaster said with a small pout. "Shame you won't tell me who this Blackwood girl is. I suppose I could just find her in her parents' potions shop, in the summer. Her mother is close to Narcissa Malfoy is she not? Perhaps I could have a word with Lucius Malfoy. Might be an interesting reunion after all these years."
"I don't know what you're speaking of, Father, but I promise you that whoever this Maeve Blackwood girl is, well, she was not the one to give me this scar," James insisted. He sounded so convincing to me, but his father was definitely not buying it.
"Shame. You do that thing your mother always did. You lie," James' father said simply before smiling condescendingly. "Well, I suppose I will see you over spring break."
And without another word, Astarion Lancaster departed, going straight for the front door of The Three Broomsticks, his gait confident and pompous. I sighed in relief, like I could finally breathe again.
"Well, he's a dick," Elijah said as-matter-of-factly.
"Thanks. He's still my father," James said, his jaw clenched. He glanced over at me and frowned slightly before saying, "I have to use the lavatory."
And without another word, he left, his coat still on, to the lavatory. I could see why he didn't want his father knowing about the real reason for his scar. Being able to blame it on someone else seemed like the easy way out. Though, did he expect his father to be so dramatic about it anyway? Did he know his father would come looking for me? My heart sunk as I thought about what would happen if Astarion Lancaster learned who I really was. Did he really just want a word with me? Or was that a lie?
"I didn't expect Astarion Lancaster to be so..." I began.
"So much of a dicktwat?" Elijah offered, snorting.
"Have you all met him before?" I asked them both.
"Yeah," Isaiah answered. "Briefly."
"James isn't too keen on letting us see his father much. You can see why now," Elijah informed me.
"How do you think he knows about me?" I asked warily.
"Students talk to their parents. Rumours spread. He must've heard it from another parent," Elijah shrugged. "I don't really think your life is in danger, though. He probably does simply wish to speak with you."
"I'm really not looking forward forward to getting scolded by James' father, though," I groaned.
"Well, James seems pretty confident that he'll protect your identity," Elijah said almost mockingly. He had one of those I-knew-this-would-happen looks on his face.
"Well, I feel a little nauseous. I'm going to the lavatory too," I said, promptly getting out of the booth. Isaiah waved and Elijah nodded before I took off.
The first thing I did when I reached the lavatory was lock myself in a stall and cry. The stress from meeting Astarion Lancaster really got to me. He was so rude and condescending to James. My heart ached for him. Not to mention that James' mother wasn't in the picture anymore. And I didn't know if what Malfoy said about Astarion leading his wife to her death was true, but I did know that James always brought her up fondly. I couldn't help but feel heartbroken for James as well as scared for myself.
Water started running from the faucets just outside my stall so I tried to be more quiet with my crying.
"Do you want to talk about it, Love?" a voice said. She sounded like a young person. Most likely a Hogswarts student. She turned off the faucet.
I wasn't sure I recognized her voice, so I sniffed and asked, "who are you?"
"I'm Ana. I used to go to Hogwarts. Are you a Hogwarts student?" she asked. I nodded but then realized she couldn't see me inside the stall, so I open the door to show myself.
She was a flat-haired brunette with pale skin and light-coloured eyes. I couldn't recognize her as someone I knew, but she did look oddly familiar. She wore nice mahogany robes, that were sinched at the waist. Her kind eyes emplored me to open up to her.
"Yes, I'm a Hogswarts student," I answered quietly.
"Why were you crying, Love? Is something hurting you?" Ana implored, coming closer to me. Up close, I realized her eyes were greyish blue, kind of like Wyatt's.
"Yeah... I just—" tears welled up in my eyes and my throat tightened as I tried to tell her. "It's not a big deal. I'm probably crying over nothing. I don't even understand why I'm crying, honestly."
"No, no, it's okay, Hun," she said softly. "Come here. Let it all out." She reached for me, her arms opened. Without really thinking, I let myself fall into her warm embrace and just cried.
Ana rubbed a gentle comforting hand across my back as I sobbed into her shoulder. She kept saying, "It's okay, Love. You'll be okay. You're okay."
Finally, I pulled back from her, looking up at her, my face wet from tears.
"Are you ready to talk about it?" she asked.
"Yeah," I croaked, though I was unsure how I would explain everything to her. "So... the father of a very good friend of mine is cross with me because he thinks I hurt my friend even though I did not — and he keeps looking for me, and he doesn't know how I look like, but he knows my name, and he is just a scary man — but I'm also heartbroken for my friend because his mother died and all he has left is a rude and condescending father who is mean to him. And I just — I don't know. This is all so silly."
"No, of course it's not silly, Hun," she said kindly. "You care for you friend very much and and it hurts you to see him mistreated. That's very sweet of you to care like that, you know. And you're scared. You don't want to get hurt, and you don't want your friend to get hurt either. It's okay to feel that way. The future can be uncertain and scary sometimes, and it's okay to acknowledge that, even if it brings you to tears."
I nodded, taking deep breaths to level my heartbeat.
"You're a good friend for caring so deeply for your friend. He's lucky to have you." she reached over to me for another hug.
I acquiesced and melted into her comforting arms. It almost felt like my mother was soothing me, and it made me feel all warm inside.
"You know, I'm relieved you weren't crying over someone breaking your heart," Ana said suddenly when I pulled away from her.
"Ha. No. I'm just fourteen. I haven't had any of those things happen to me yet," I said.
"And hopefully you never will. I had my first heartbreak at seventeen years old. My boyfriend at the time was a year older than me. He broke up right after he graduated from Hogwarts so he could travel the world without me holding him back — I was so devastated back then. And now? It feels like so long ago, I almost laugh about it sometimes."
"How old are you?" I asked. She looked fairly young. Maybe not young enough to pass for a Hogwarts student, but still.
"Twenty-six," she said.
"You're so pretty," I said without thinking. I wanted to smack myself in the face for saying that, but she didn't seem to find it weird as she beamed at the compliment.
"Why, thank you, Love" she said, tossing her straight brown hair to her back. "You're also quite cute. I bet you can have anyone that you like."
"Thanks," I said, my cheeks definitely flushed. I hated compliments, but I still appreciated them — if that even made sense.
"Well, I hope you don't mind, I have to run, now. I told my little brother to wait for me at the entrance — he probably already has a seat now."
"Thank you for your kind words. You really made me feel better," I told her before she could dart out. She paused at the entrance of the washroom and grinned at me.
"Aw, no worries, Babe. Anytime," she said. "Have a good one."
"You too," I replied as she sped off.
AN: Yes, I named Astarion after my vampire crush from BG3. It just seemed to fit so well with his vibe and with his surname Lancaster. Anyway, thanks for reading y'all.