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Her parents are fighting again. Astoria can hear, even through the closed door, the muffled screaming and the thud of what must be her daddy's fist against the wooden furniture, or his palm on her mother's cheek. She sits at the bottom of the stairs, ear pressed against the door, straining to hear what they have to say.
"What are you doing?" Daphne whispers behind her, haughty and acting like a grown-up. She's only turned thirteen, Daphne has, but Astoria thinks she acts far too much like her mother's friends already. Daphne's nose is turned up, her chin severe with disapproval, and Astoria rolls her eyes.
"Be quiet, I'm trying to hear what they're saying."
Daphne scowls, yanking her back with her skinny fingers digging so hard on her arm that Astoria yelps, and suddenly the room goes quiet.
"Who's there?" her mother calls out.
"Look what you've done!" Astoria whispers furiously, shocked because her eyes suddenly sting with tears. She takes a step back, shoves Daphne in her proper place, and runs upstairs.
"Astoria?"
She ignores her mother's voice, slams the door behind her. She isn't stupid, even though they think she is. She's seen the Owl that came in through the window early that afternoon, and though her heart lifted for a moment, her parents had asked her to leave while they read it. It bore the same crest that arrived for Daphne two years ago, she was certain, but she also knew it hadn't arrived until her parents had sent one ahead, first.
It is nearly September, and now Astoria knows the truth: she isn't going to go to Hogwarts at all.
*
The Greengrass estate can be ridiculously quiet on summer days--Astoria isn't sure what it becomes when she isn't around, but even with Daphne off at school Astoria had no shortage of little children to play with, or house guests to delight. Her parents welcomed one and all to their abode, but she wonders now what happened to them in the fall and winter and spring.
Summers--the last four that have passed so far, at least--have taken a droller mood. She doesn't talk to her sister any longer, not by choice at first but lately it's made more sense. Her sister doesn't speak to her unless it's to tell her what to do and what not to do, as she did that morning when she burst into Astoria's room unannounced.
"I'm expecting guests at two," she'd merely said. "Try not to bother us."
Astoria plans to go shopping anyway. Her friends at Constance were planning to go to London, but Astoria opens up a book and loses track of time until it is too late, it is almost two and now she is hurrying, tearing through her room and picking up clothes and putting them on and stumbling down the stairs and hopping on one foot as she tries to put on a shoe, one hand on the doorknob to push it open--
Oof.
She is too late, and Draco Malfoy is too early.
"Sorry," she mumbles, and looks up just in time to catch the frown that creases the boy's head. He is trying to work out who she is, she reckons, because of course everyone knows the Malfoys but Astoria was but a wisp of a girl the last time their families had tea, and since she was shipped to a Muggle boarding school it seems most had been happy to forget she ever existed.
"Astoria?"
"I'm late," she murmurs, pushing past him and never looking back.
*
Daphne doesn't stop complaining about how many questions Draco asked about her after their encounter, but Astoria can't bring herself to care. She's grateful, again, when term starts and she's away from her family, and everything magical.
She goes through her A-levels and manages enough to make her proud. After leaving she sits on the steps to her dormitory, waiting for her parents to pick her up. Her friends come and go and wave goodbye, and she offers them a cheerful smile as their numbers dwindle and it is just her, and her suitcase, and the ticking clock on the northeast tower telling her they're late, they're late, her parents are late.
Two hours pass and she sighs. They aren't late, she realizes. They're just never coming.
*
Astoria doesn't find much need to do anything in the wizarding world. She's functioned enough without magic that it doesn't matter to her what she cannot do, but one day Daphne Owls her and asks for her to come.
Getting into Diagon Alley through The Leaky is tricky business--Tom doesn't understand why she can't just tap the wall herself, and she mumbles her explanation hesitantly, quietly, cheeks red enough that Tom eventually takes pity on her and opens the door himself.
Daphne is late, as per usual. Astoria drops by the bank to convert some of her money so she can buy herself ice cream and sit in the corner of Florean's while her sister bides her time who-knows-where, stirring her spoon in quickly melting cream and licking the fudge that sticks to it.
She remembers when she and her family used to visit Diagon Alley, before Daphne even went to school and the biggest thing that came between her parents was how many hours her father spent at work. They always bought Daphne and Astoria a large tub of every-flavor sundae, and Astoria smiles. She and Daphne always made sure to split it exactly right down the middle, so determined were they at sharing.
But she doesn't miss this world at all, she thinks. It bustles with bright colors and garish sights, to be sure, and it smells of her best memories from childhood, but at the same time, she knows it is nowhere she belongs, anymore.
She checks her watch. Daphne is running twenty minutes late, now. A mobile phone, Astoria thinks, would tell her where Daphne had gone, but who can manage an Owl in the middle of hurrying from one place to another (or, as Daphne is more liable to do, of leisurely wandering from one place to the next)? She's giving Daphne five more minutes--she may be her sister but Astoria is waiting around for no one.
A shadow falls upon her and Astoria glances up.
"Daphne's sister, isn't it?" Draco asks.
She smiles, a little belatedly but he doesn't seem to mind. "Astoria."