“DAPHNE SAID I SHOULDN’T bring books to the opening feast because I’m supposed to have fun…”
Astoria mumbled between bites of strawberry cream pie to no one in particular. Her eyes roved over the words on the pages of her Potions book; finding one particularly difficult spell to cast over the cauldron intriguing. She could not afford to be distracted this year, or the year later. There was so much to learn, and so little time. Frankly, she didn’t think seven years were enough to educate a wizard. Muggles were given a decade and more of education, and yet here wizards were, with the complexity of magic on its own, given the little privilege of seven years. One simply could not fit so much knowledge in so little span of years.
She shook her head to keep her mind from wandering. Her thoughts always seemed to flit from one idea to another, even more so than usual. There was so much to think at times, but she had a feeling it’s increased even more considering the happenings of last year. Perhaps to her, it would be a silent reprieve from what she had done last year. Or rather, what she had lacked to do… to save that one person…
“I DO HAVE FUN, of course.” Astoria blurted out, rather to convince herself more than anything. Her eyes still glued to her book, she blindly reached out for her goblet. “But I have a double year unlike my sister, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get every mark right and—-oh, bugger!”
She nearly jumped off her seat when she saw the flow of pumpkin juice drench her potions book when she had blindly knocked off the drink. A disappointed look crossed her features as she pulled the book to keep the liquid from coming anywhere near her companion’s place on the table, better damaging her book. “Perhaps I should have heeded Daphne’s advice.”
Hermione rarely found herself by the Slytherin table, or any table at all besides the Gryffindors’. However, once in a while she would allow herself to sneak over to friends in other houses, and as this was the first day of the semester, there were several faces she had not seen in quite a while. Earlier, she had spotted a friend from her Artithmancy classes in her 6th year, and had gotten quite excited to see that she was returning too. Hence, she had temporarily seated herself among the Slytherins to greet her.
Beside her sat someone she thought resembled the younger one of the Greengrasses, a book in her hands that Hermione recognised as one of the Potions books from her sixth year; the formula that she was seemingly looking at was one that had fascinated Hermione too. She was struck with annoyance at the sight of it, though. Potions classes during her sixth year had been a terrible mess, to say at the least; she did everything according to the bloody book, and yet nothing worked. Furthermore, Harry had found himself a special version of it, with scribbles that corrected the recipies, among other things that should not have been there. She was about to make a comment on it when the girl started rambling. She could not quite make out whether she was speaking to her or to herself, though her trail of thought was soon interrupted as the goblet tipped over.
“Oh!” She jumped from her seat, more as an instinct than actually getting the liquid on her. Then, she turned to the Slytherin. “I think books make excellent dinner companions,” she told her. In fact, she had brought her own to the feast, as she hardly had time to drop it by the dormitories before it began; she held it to her chest. “As long as you’re careful, of course.” A knowing smile spread across her lips; she had done the same thing as the Greengrass multiple times before. She knew the embarrassment that came with it, as well as the frustration of being careless enough to let it happen in the first place.
She put her book down on the bench, a bit away from where the liquid had spilled, and grabbed some napkins to help dry it all up.
“Are you okay?”
