Chapter 30 - Apologies

A/N: You can definitely skip this note btw...

Firstly: Why the slow updates? WELL. It's all Jafar's fault. I've been very busy binging everything StarKid 😍 I've been making my way through all of their musicals, interviews and behind the scenes! Initially I was like ooo Dylan 😏 and then I watched Black Friday and now I'm like OOO Dylan 🥵 lel okay TMI. Anyways, moral of the story - pls DM me for StarKid yarns

Secondly: one of the 'writing rules' I've heard is to make sure all your characters' names start with different letters so the reader can differentiate and remember them easier... so who the fuck knows why I decided to pull a George RR Martin and name one of Asha's friends ALISHA which is literally the CLOSEST thing you could get to ASHA 🤦🏻‍♀️ Ahahahaha wtf why 💀 That might have to be one of the changes I make once I complete this story...

Okay, that's all x congrats on making it through my ramble

*

"Ash, you coming up to breakfast?" called Victoria from the hallway.

"Coming!" Asha swung her bag over her shoulder and hurried from the dorm, Accio-ing her school tie just in time for it to soar through the crack of the closing door.

"I suppose it's not so much my company, but rather my Transfiguration homework you're so eager to have next to you at the breakfast table, aye Victoria?" Asha teased as the two girls fell into stride.

"That is a totally outrageous accusation, Asha Winters!" scolded Victoria, before casting a sideways smirk and holding out her hand expectantly. Asha chuckled and pulled a roll of parchment from her robes, making sure to bat her friend's head with it before handing it over.

"Thanks to your two-week homework hiatus, I think McGonagall finally figured out the enigma that was Victoria Cotton and her Transfig' inconsistencies," said Victoria as they exited the common room.

"What?" Asha laughed.

"You know; why my homework grades were always exceptional but I'm somehow super shit at actually doing the spells," said Victoria chirpily.

Asha snorted. "I hate to break it to you, but I have a feeling McGonagall solved that mystery a loong time ago."

"Yeah, well, since I basically flunked the latest assignments - because no one else bloody well let me copy, by the way! - she's definitely been giving me more sour looks than usual and has been asking me way more questions in class. All I'm saying is, I hope you realise that it's all your fault."

"Oh, I'm sorry, would you like me to take that homework back?" Asha offered in mock earnest. She reached for the roll of parchment.

"No! No, that's not what I meant," Victoria giggled, whipping the scroll out of Asha's reach.

"Hey guys, wait up!" called a voice from behind. Maive jogged up the stairs to meet them. "What's with the early breakfast?"

"Oh nothing special," said Asha casually, then, raising her voice to an unnecessary volume, "Victoria just needs time to copy my Transfiguration homework."

Asha and Maive burst into laughter as Victoria emitted an aggressive "SSHHH!" before hastily glancing around the corridor. Luckily for her, Asha had already made sure there weren't any professors around. The fourth year Hufflepuffs were in agreement that it was always good practice to give Victoria's blood pressure a little spike if the opportunity presented itself.

Once seated in the Great Hall, Asha and Maive had an enjoyable breakfast while Victoria feverishly scribbled away, paraphrasing Asha's work in between bites of toast.

"You really shouldn't let her do that, you know," said Maive as she took a final spoonful of cereal, "passing the homework is meaningless if she fails the exam."

"Pfft, Victoria knows that just as well as we do - it's just how she chooses to roll," Asha replied dismissively.

Maive rolled her eyes. "Like you can trust her to make the responsible choice."

"Oh come on, she wants to be a singer, not a Transfig' scholar!"

"I suppose... Speaking of, their band does sound really good at the moment!" Maive perked up. "You haven't heard them in a while - you should come with Matt and me to their practice tonight."

"Yes, you should!" Victoria chimed in while keeping her eyes and quill glued to her homework.

"I can't tonight," Asha admitted, "I've got to see Professor Dumbledore." Then, in response to the girls' looks of astonishment, she added, "He's just checking in on me after my ... absences."

Maive nodded solemnly, then upon further thought said, "Wow, I've hardly even seen Dumbledore up close, let alone talked to him. I wonder if he's just as weird in a private setting..."

"He's not weird, he's eccentric," tutted Hannah, who had just taken a seat and begun spooning fruit salad into a breakfast bowl.

"One time, I swear he made eye contact with me," insisted Victoria as she handed Asha her homework back. "It was just as he said 'I wish you all a happy holidays' back in second year," she said with a surprisingly accurate imitation of Dumbledore's genial voice and characteristic hand gestures.

"That's nothing," piped up Matt from further down the table, "one time, I walked past him in the corridor and he said 'Unless I am quite mistaken, you have donned your robs inside out this morning, Mr Walters. An interesting choice, though not likely to start a trend I don't think. But then again, what would a barmy old man like me know?'"

"Told you he was weird," said Maive.

Having talked with Dumbledore several times over the years, Asha didn't find him nearly as mystical as the rest of the students. Even so, she had yet to solidify her opinion of him.

When she had first arrived at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had been very gentle and kind. She knew from the history books and his reputation alone that he must be an incredibly gifted wizard. And his speeches and participation in Christmas Feasts showed him to be eccentric (to use Hannah's words) and good-natured.

But Asha's opinion of Dumbledore had been tainted during the past year. Even if she could accept that everything the old man had done with regards to herself and her memories had been for the best, she couldn't get past the Goblet of Fire. She now completely understood why she certainly couldn't have risked becoming a champion, thereby drawing international attention to herself. But for Dumbledore to bend the rules and let golden-boy Harry compete? That contradicted a lot of the assumptions she had previous drawn regarding the headmaster's nature.

After breakfast, the day became much busier. Asha rushed between her classes, using extra time either before or after the lessons to apologise for her truancy and hand in overdue work. All the professors were very kind and understanding, not to mention pleasantly surprised to see the work Asha had done over the weekend.

Before she knew it, it was lunchtime. She entered the Great Hall without her usual entourage. She'd told the group of Hufflepuffs to go on without her while she hung back to talk to Professor McGonagall.

The exchange with McGonagall had been Asha's most uncomfortable of the day. Initially, she had been worried that the professor was going to bring up the fact Asha was obviously the one letting Victoria copy her homework every week. But what had transpired was, in Asha's opinion, much worse. Professor McGonagall had seemed more concerned about Asha's wellbeing than her missed homework. She'd even tried to persuade Asha to stay for tea and biscuits. The way McGonagall had spoken to her in an almost motherly way had pulled at a pool of emotion that lay deep in Asha's stomach. She hadn't liked it one bit. Feeling unexplainably angry, Asha had declined McGonagall's offer of drinks and nibbles and departed as hastily as could still be considered polite.

Now safely in the Great Hall, Asha spotted a familiar face in the sea of students and strolled over to the densely populated middle section of the Hufflepuff table.

"Sup Diggory."

Cedric turned around, the quizzical look on his face immediately morphing into one of pleasant surprise.

"Ash!" he grinned. Asha could tell that he was surprised to see she had broken her own rule of not being friendly with him in public. She smiled and gave him a little shrug. She had much bigger things to worry about these days; a little gossip that Cedric Diggory was friends with that girl who once punched Professor Binns' cupboard was the least of her problems.

"Guys, this is Asha," Cedric told the group as he shuffled over to make room on the bench for her (much to the annoyance of the pretty fifth year girl who had, until then, been strategically edging her arm closer and closer to his), "she helped me with-"

"-he helped me with some flying lessons one time," Asha cut in, thinking Dumbledore probably wouldn't approve of her advanced duelling abilities becoming public knowledge.

"Oh I bet he did," smirked a dark-haired boy Asha recognised as Brad. The group laughed while Asha rolled her eyes.

After that, the sixth years didn't pay her too much attention. She and Cedric chatted about trivial nonsense for a while, until Asha finally brought up what was really on her mind.

"So," she said, lowing her voice, "are you gonna let me see this golden egg?"

Cedric shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, we're not really supposed to get help, Ash."

"Are you kidding!" Asha exclaimed quietly, but couldn't help smiling at his stubborn integrity. She could tell he wanted to show her and also detected a hint of nervousness behind his eyes - he mustn't have figured out the clue yet. "I don't know if you've forgotten, but last week you let slip that Harry literally told you what the first task was!"

"Shhhut up," Cedric insisted, glancing around nervously, but everyone in the vicinity was absorbed in their own conversations.

"Come on, just one peek!" Asha urged, prodding his arm. Cedric finally gave in.

"Okay fine," he agreed, breaking into a mischievous smile, "just one."

With Asha's mission complete, she and Cedric spent the next half an hour in engaging conversation. She found just the extra two years of life Cedric had on her usual friends made a big difference. He was much closer to being a vaguely mature grown-up than say Victoria or even Maive. Living on the streets and off the grid required one to grow up fast. Asha felt like she had been forced into adulthood by the age of fourteen, even thirteen.

As lunch break was ending, she and Cedric agreed to meet up before dinner so he could show her the egg.

History of Magic was an unusually productive lesson given that Asha unintentionally caught up on an hour of sleep. Following this refreshing nap, the final class of the day was Potions. Snape's lessons usually built on what the class had learnt the previous week. Therefore, having not done any catching up in this subject, Asha was quite convinced that this afternoon's lesson was going to be a disaster. Because of this fact, she was surprised to find she was looking forward to it.

But as she entered the classroom, she realised the origin of her mild enthusiasm. Standing beside the chalkboard, draped in black robes, hands behind his back, staring down every student who entered the room and thereby intimidating them into silence, stood Professor Snape. Snape felt like the only constant in Asha's life; the only person on the same wavelength as her; the only thing that seemed truly real; that made her feel real.

"We will not be brewing today," he announced before anyone could start taking out their cauldrons. "Sit and take out your textbook and a roll of blank parchment." The class did as they were told.

When the time came to submit their weekend assignment, Asha handed in a blank rolled-up scroll so as not to evoke suspicion from everyone who had seen her hand in the homework for every other class.

Next, Snape announced that this lesson they would be doing a revision session of all the content from the last month. Asha raised her eyebrows. A lot of other students also looked relieved to be going over old content. Asha tried to catch Snape's eye but he refused to look at her for the next few minutes, by which time she had become preoccupied with copying down the diagram he had drawn on the board.

Asha spent the lesson frantically scribbling down notes as Snape recited about eight lessons worth of content in the space of one hour. To the man's credit, he was an excellent teacher when he was explaining the applications of different ingredients instead of sneering at anyone who didn't live up to his expectations.

Four feet of parchment later, the bell chimed for the end of the school day. As the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws vacated the classroom, Maive mouthed "Good luck" to Asha, followed by a grimace to display just how much faith she had that Asha would come out of this apology unscathed.

The stragglers trickled out and the dungeon door swung shut, but both the potions professor and Asha remained silent until all footsteps and chatter had faded up the corridor.

Severus was aware that Asha was only hanging back to pretend to be apologising to him for her missed lessons, but he was glad for the opportunity to speak with her. Logically, he knew she was capable of taking care of herself, but he still found himself worrying what she was up to, whether she was getting herself into more trouble, or what she was thinking and feeling. He didn't have the same grasp on her as he did with other people. For example, here she was now, waiting patiently for the fading noise of the children she somehow put up with twenty-four-seven; standing tall, confident and calm; like life had never beaten her down or slashed at her with cruelty's knife... yet it had... multiple times.

When they were finally truly alone, he began using his wand to set up the tables for tomorrow morning's lesson and asked, "How did it go today?"

"Fine," Asha replied, leaning against the backbench, "I just have Flitwick and Sinistra tomorrow and then that's everyone." She briefly considered thanking Snape for doing the revision lesson that was clearly only for her benefit, but decided against it. He knew she knew. And Snape was just as uncomfortable with receiving gratitude as she was with giving it.

"Good," said Severus plainly. He finished levitating the chairs into a stack at the back of the room and slipped his wand back into his inside pocket. He sat back against his desk and folded his arms, now giving Asha his full attention. "So are you still planning on seeing Dumbledore tonight?" he asked pointedly.

"Yes," Asha replied calmly, though her stomach gave an uncomfortable twist.

"Have you informed him of this meeting? Or do you plan on waltzing in unannounced?"

"I assumed you've already taken the liberty of notifying the headmaster of my intention to see him tonight," said Asha. Snape scowled. "...And I see I was correct." The pair stood in silence for a few moments until Asha decided to lighten the mood by saying, "That was a conveniently timed review lesson."

The ghost of a smirk brushed Snape's lips. "I thought you might think so." But the glimmer of light in his expression quickly disappeared. "But now the class has you to thank for being a lesson behind schedule," he drawled.

Asha folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, but Professor, I think you'll find I didn't have anything to do with it. The content of your lessons is on you."

Unfortunately, Snape's emotionless expression didn't waver and in the end, Asha looked away. The jars on the wall caught her eye - jars seemingly identical to the ones she had accidentally smashed on Friday. The memory made her grimace.

"I spent my weekend replacing some very hard-to-find specimens," came Snape's smooth voice. Asha felt a lump rise in her throat. There she was, being a burden again.

"Sorry about that," she muttered.

"Don't be stupid," said Snape sternly yet somehow also gently. He picked up a book and quill off his desk and extinguished the hearth, getting ready to lock up for the day. Strolling over to Asha, he locked his dark eyes with hers. Without thinking, Asha straightened up from the bench she'd been leaning against to meet him almost eye to eye.

"All of this, that's happened," he told her, extremely earnest all of a sudden, "it's on the headmaster, not you". Asha's breath caught in her throat. For a second time that day, her emotions stirred. It felt like everything was her fault. It felt like everywhere she walked things fell apart and disaster followed. Yet here was this man - probably the person she trusted most in the world right now - telling her it wasn't her fault. Did it hurt because she knew it wasn't the truth? Or did it hurt because he was striking one of her innermost insecurities, and looking at her like he knew it? Or did it hurt because deep down she had desperately wanted to hear this? had needed to hear it?

Suddenly Asha couldn't bear to look at him. She brushed past him and walked over to a quietly simmering cauldron, pretending to inspect its contents.

Severus' eyes followed her across the room. He had struck a nerve. In a strange way, the idea pleased him. He might not be able to read Asha Winters as well as he could others, but he still understood her better than anyone. Even Albus. Asha peered into the cauldron sitting on the demonstration bench.

"Can you give me it's name?" Severus asked, returning to his role of professor.

"No," Asha responded, having not even really listened to the question.

Severus sighed and half rolled his eyes, "Merlin... You brewed it last year."

A few seconds was all Asha had needed to push her emotions away and pull herself together. She registered what Snape was wanting.

"It's Confusing Concoction," she said in a bored voice. Snape gave her a small nod.

"You should take Potions more seriously, Winters," he began to lecture, "you easily have the potential to get straight Os in your N.E.W.Ts later on and that will set you up with excellent career..." but Asha wasn't listening. As she was watching him, a thought had occurred to her...