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Astoria Greengrass glanced up from her Ancient Runes text when the conversational volume rose above acceptable levels for studying, determined to chide the offenders into lowering their voices so that she could finish her essay. The room wasn’t even half-full; there was no need for anyone to speak so loudly.
Cho Chang, her voice expertly pitched to travel the length of the Ravenclaw Common Room, asked with false solicitousness, “What happened to you, Lady Loony? You’re in quite a state! Are you all right?”
It was the first time that Chang had ever dared to act in such a manner in Astoria’s presence. None of the other Ravenclaws seemed shocked at Chang’s behavior. It horrified and baffled Astoria. What was—?
“Have you found your precious Dumb-Bored Porksacks yet?” Chang taunted saccharinely.
It took several moments for Astoria to process what she was witnessing, what she was hearing. It was— Was Chang truly verbally abusing Lady Luna Lovegood in the middle of the Ravenclaw Common Room without a single person objecting?
“No? I thought not. They’re about as real as you are intelligent, Lady Loony,” Chang said.
This was the first time that Astoria had ever experienced what felt like an appallingly well-worn routine. Unsurprising, really, given that Chang was apparently a spineless coward. It was now blatantly obvious that she had relentlessly bullied the second-highest-ranked pureblood lady in Ravenclaw during Astoria’s frequent absences from Ravenclaw Tower.
“Don’t you know you should wear shoes, Lady Loony?” Marietta Edgecombe taunted.
“What is society coming to,” Astoria queried, rising from her seat with a grace that took years to master, anger boiling inside her, “that pureblood witches allow their daughters to attend such a distinguished institution as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry without teaching them proper etiquette and manners?”
Chang instantly misconstrued Astoria’s admonishment, a cruel smirk twisting her pretty features so that, for once, she was as ugly on the outside as she was on the inside. “It really is a shame, Lady Loony, that your mother—”
For a moment, a single moment in time, Astoria’s mind blanked entirely. Surely … surely no member of Ravenclaw House was cruel and stupid enough to disparage the name of a dearly beloved and deceased lady from one of the Most Ancient Houses.
“—went and killed herself before—”
Lady Pandora had not killed herself! Her death was a tragic accident during magical research and experimentation and for Chang to imply otherwise was indefensible.
The anger transformed into rage.
Luna didn’t flinch, didn’t wince, didn’t show an iota of weakness at the slanderous vitriol spilling from Chang’s lips. It was the bravest act that Astoria had ever witnessed in her entire life. Something deep inside of her ached at the thought that Lady Luna’s lack of reaction might be due to the fact that she had heard such malicious lies so many times that such barbarism was commonplace.
How…? By the Sacred Lady Morgana, how had Astoria not known such unpardonable behavior was happening in her own House? She was rarely in Ravenclaw Tower, but—
“—she could teach you how not to be useless—”
“You misunderstand me, Chang,” Astoria interrupted, purposely and pointedly leaving off Chang’s title. Witches like Chang didn’t deserve even the barest of courtesies.
For a mere miss to twist Astoria’s words so cruelly was beyond the pale, and for her to then use them as an assault against a pureblood lady of such higher birth and distinction was social suicide. Chang had just spent all of her social capital with a single comment, and not a creditor in the entirety of Avalon would dare to bail her out of such a disgraceful debt.
“Lady Astoria?” Chang asked, her brow furrowed.
“I was referring to your own mother, as well as Edgecombe’s. Lady Pandora Lovegood née Malfoy is beyond reproach, though I’ll be certain to tell Heir Draco Malfoy how casually and callously you degrade his beloved aunt’s memory,” Astoria said with an implacable resolve that visibly shocked her fellow Ravenclaws.
She was not a particularly social witch; she didn’t especially enjoy parties or being the center of attention. She was soft-spoken, yes. But only a fool would mistake that for weakness. Astoria was the second-born daughter of the main bloodline of the Resilient and Most Ancient House of Greengrass.
Chang swayed, horror naked on her face, and pled, “Lady Astoria, I—”
With the slightest tilt of her head, Astoria stared right at Chang and Edgecombe and gave them The Cut Indirect, turning her gaze aside as if they didn’t even exist. The ear-piercing sobs that spilled from their lips as the other students gasped and murmured amongst themselves did not move Astoria’s heart.
If they wept a thousand nights, it could never amount to the pain Lady Luna must have felt at hearing her beloved mother’s name and character so maligned.
It seemed that Astoria had neglected her duties to Ravenclaw House by so frequently visiting both her sister, Daphne, in Slytherin, and her best friend, Miss Rose Zeller, in Hufflepuff. If deplorable behavior such as this was common—and the evidence indicated that it was—then Astoria could not allow it to continue.
The callous bullying ended here and now.
Astoria smoothed her Greengrass-Verdant robes and then curtsied to Luna. They were both ladies, though neither of them was an Heiress, and thus of near equal social standing. It was abominable that those Sorted into the House founded by High Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, of the Wise and Most Olde House of Ravenclaw, required a reminder of something so intrinsic to their society.
She expected better of them. They would do better from this point forward or Astoria would destroy them as easily as she had ruined Chang and Edgecombe.
“Lady Luna, would you care to join me? I realize we’re in different years, but we could keep each other company while completing our essays for Ancient Runes,” Astoria offered, gesturing at the empty seat beside hers. She usually preferred to study alone, but she could make an exception.
A pointed reminder of Lady Luna’s—how dare they mock her title and steal her very name from her?—worth and station in society seemed to be in order.
Luna curtsied in return, an elegant motion that was faultless. Her Butterbeer cork necklace nestled against the bosom of her Ravenclaw robes. Now, for the first time, Astoria couldn’t help but wonder if Luna always wore them for the same reason that her shoes appeared to be missing.
The mere thought of rampant thievery occurring in Ravenclaw Tower was just— How dare they?
The rage transformed into fury.
Astoria listed her ancestors in her head, traveling up her family tree generation by generation in an attempt to settle her temper before it got the best of her.
“Thank you for the offer, Lady Astoria, but I’m afraid my Ancient Runes text has disappeared,” Luna said, her voice a wealth of quiet, accepting despair.
Several of the silently watching Ravenclaws glanced away, shame apparent in their body language. Whether they, too, were guilty of misusing Lady Luna’s good name and sweet nature, or were ashamed of knowing about such happenings and never coming to her aid was immaterial. Astoria would never trust a single one of them ever again.
“You may share mine,” Astoria said, feeling ill at the implications.
For students of Ravenclaw House to intentionally sabotage the learning of anyone, anyone at all, was just— Morgana, High Lady Rowena must be rolling in her crypt.
“Thank you,” Luna said before crossing the distance between them with fluid grace.
She and Astoria were of a similar height, though her hair was straight and as flaxen as any Malfoy’s whereas Astoria’s was a mass of strawberry-blonde curls. Her figure was lovely, her fingers long and elegant, her demeanor whimsical yet kind.
Her unaffected beauty and sheer goodness were the most probable causes of Chang’s and Edgecombe’s reprehensible behavior. Astoria had never understood the mindset some displayed of gaining pleasure and importance in belittling others. It was … unworthy behavior in any magical who professed loyalty to Mother Magic.
What did it matter if Luna’s preferred jewelry was a Butterbeer cork necklace and a pair of radish earrings instead of gold and gemstones? Physical adornments were the least valuable aspect of a pureblood lady’s worth. What did it matter if Luna believed in undocumented Magical Creatures? Hadn’t Mister Newton Scamander proven the existence of many previously believed to be myths in his text Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them? Was it not then reasonable to deduce that even more such Magical Creatures might exist?
How pathetically, embarrassingly small-minded her fellow Ravenclaws were.
“Thank you, Lady Astoria,” Luna said, her unspoken ‘for intervening, for defending me and my beloved mother’ coming across with true sincerity.
“You’re welcome, Lady Luna,” Astoria replied, hating that any pureblood lady, let alone one as pleasant as Luna, should ever have cause to express gratitude for being treated with respect and care.
Luna smiled. Astoria’s heart sank.
Even when you smile, your eyes are still sad, Astoria thought and resolved right then that she would change that.
Someday—perhaps far in the future, despite her best efforts—Astoria was determined to see a smile on Luna’s face that reached all the way to her eyes. It might be a long journey to get there after what Luna had suffered through, but Astoria knew it would be worth it.
Luna was worth the effort.
She always had been and she always would be.