Dianthus Stories
Chapter Twenty Nine - Aster's Anger
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Anything you
recognize belongs to someone else, namely, JK Rowling.
the HP universe, characters from same.
Sadly, I have no hope of publishing this story outside the fan fiction
characters I’ve created. Feel free to
give me critical feedback, including flames and harsh criticism.
personal embarrassment, but I do promise to read it and incorporate it if I
feel it improves the story.
*****
This is Chapter
Twenty Nine. This chapter contains no
smut. But fear not, sexual activity
reappears in Chapter Thirty Three, so if you’d like to, skip ahead.
bit confused if you don’t read the in-betweens.
*****
Chapter Twenty
Nine – Aster’s Anger
Dianthus sat,
breathless and wary, wondering where he’d gone – until she realized he wasn’t
coming baspanspan style='mso-spacerun:yes'> He hadn’t said where he was
going to be, or when she could expect to see him.
import of his last words: he wanted her
provide him with material to jack off by.
And he wouldn’t owl her back until she did.
room. And he had thrown her completely off-kilter with his husky
whisperiboutbout ‘something wanton’. s'> Not
only had she been unable to prevent his leaving, but she was also feeling just
as dank and sweaty as she had when she’d arrived.
She cursed him
loudly and profusely as she stormed through another shower and threw on her
under clothes and robes. She gave the
bed, with its stained and rumpled sheets and twisted blankets, an infuriated
glare each time she passed it. She certainly
didn’t want to spend the night wallowing in the evidence, surrounded by the
smell of him and what they’d done. She
fastened her shoes with a yank, and stalked out of the room, slamming the door
soundly behind her.
Her temper faded just
a bit as she strode down the street outside The Leaky Cauldron.
without her grandfather and Aster by her side.
Dianthus felt small and slightly lost as she made her way to the
underground station. Actually, it felt
odd to be walking around
all – she could just as easily apparate to the address.
a walk might help to clear her mind after the morning’s events.
Taking her time,
she navigated her way from The Leaky Cauldron to Broadgate,
where her sister was living in the residence of one Ogey
Charmichael, one of her grandfather’s lawyers.
She’d only met him once – he was a round, bald old fogey,
who sweated quite a bit and dressed in expensive
robes, and pontificated about trusts and wills.
Dianthus hadn’t been overly impressed, but she supposed he would do an
acceptable job as a guardian for Aster.
In fact, his conservative nature would probably do her a world of good,
Dianthus thought with a grim smile.
She arrived at the
address she’d received from this Ogey Charmichael,
and was a bit stunned by the ostentatious nature of the house.
neighborhood of stately brick mansions:
it seemed to be a roman palace, complete with marble columns and a
sweeping marble staircase to the front door.
Doves cooed from an upstairs balcony overhanging a wide portico, and the
gigantic front yard was dominated on one side by a huge fountain of what appeared
to be a siren, and on the other by what looked like a statf
chuckled to herself as she ascended the sparkling staircase; sometimes there
was just no accounting for taste.
to herself, ringing the doorbell – Vivaldi rang loud and
long, until the door was answered by a huge and stately house-elf – quite
possibly the largest Dianthus had ever seen.
It was almost as tall as she was, and it lacked the generally scrawny
look she’d seen on other house-elves.
stared imperiously up at her. It had a
disdainful and regal bearing, which was only slightly offset by the pure white
bath towel it wore, emblazoned with the initials CM in curly, old fashioned letters.
“May I help you,
Miss?” it said in a tone so pompous, the creature might have been the lord of
the manor, rather than one of its servants.
“I’m here to see
Aster Brandywine,” Dianthus sniffed.
“And whom shall I
say is calling?” Same
tone, accompanied by a rising of bushy eyebrows.
“Dianthus
The house-elf
hesitated for just a beat, then bowed Dianthus through
the door and into a huge foyer, larger than the lower floor of the
farmhouse. It was done in pink marble,
with accents so gaudy Dianthus thought they had to be solid gold.
lawyer dominated the walcingcing the door, and it might have been tolerable,
but for the fact that he’d continued the roman theme, and was wearing a pure
white toga. A braided cord of golden
thread was stretched around his pudgy midsection, and he held aloft a glass
goblet filled with red wine. He’d not
thought to remove his specta whe when he posed, apparently forgetting that
Romans did not wear wire rims in the ancient days.
“Please wait here,
while I see if Miss Aster is available to visitors,” the house-elf said coolly,
and he ascended a wide stone staircase to the second floor.
that if she dared to take a look around, she would be rolling on the floor
laughing when the house-elf returned to take her to Aster.
Some moments
later, these-ese-elf swept down the staircase and bowed to her.
visitors today.”
Dianthus stared at
him. “What do you mean, not receiving –
did you tell her who was here?”
“I did indeed,
Miss, and her response was unequivocal.
I have been instructed to escort you out.”
“Well, you can
just go up there and tell her again,” Dianthus snarled.
and I want to see her! Aster!
massive house-elf, but he blocked her at every turn, at the same time herding
her gently toward the door. “Aster, get
your ass down here and talk to me!”
“I am afraid Miss
Aster was quite firm with her instructions, Miss,” he said, motioning with his
hand to open the door.
“I don’t believe
you – Aster!” an>Dan>Dianthus struggled
mightily against the house-elf’s chivvying, but she almost tripped on the
threshold, and he took advantage of the moment.
“She also
requested that I tell you not to come here again.”
much as a house-elf would dare push a wizard, and closed it quickly in her
face. Dianthus rang the doorbell, and
then hammered on the door, then tried the doorbell again – but the music cut
off in mid-note, and did not begin again when she pressed repeatedly on the
button.
“Just get out of
here!” she heard Aster shriek, from the upstairs balcony.
to see Aster hanging over the balustrade.
“I don’t want to see you, Dianthus,” Aster yelled, her face twisted with
fury. “I’ve already told you!”
“Aster,” Dianthus
pleaded, “what is wrong with you? Why
won’t you talk to me?”
“You think you’re
so hot, carrying that wand and going to that stupid school, but you can’t do
anything, Dianthus! You can’t do a
fucking thing compared to me! Just wait,
you’ll see!” To Dianthus’ horror, Aster
spat over the balcony at her, so that she had to step back quickly to avoid
it. “Never come here again!”
“Aster, for god’s
sake, talk to me!”
But Aster was already gone, slamming first the French door off the
balcony, and then another door within the house.
sister had stood, tears prickling the backs of her eyes.
the lowest stair, and then she sunk her face into her hands.
finally broke through the barriers that had held them in place, and she sobbed
uncontrollably, heedless of potential passersby.
A politely
embarrassed cough brought her back to herself.
She didn’t know how long she had sat there, bawling like a baby, but she
raised her head to see Ogey Charmichael standing on
the stair above her, vague concern on his plump face.
“Ye – yes – Mister
Charmichael?” jumpjumped to her feet,
aware that her face was smeared with tears and snot.
Aster?”
The portly man
shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not,
but please, do follow me.” Dianthus
dragged herself after him as he waddled up the stairs.
Charmichael led
her to the shade of the portico, and, puffing slightly, gestured toward a
wrought iron bench nestled against one wall.
She sat, and he carefully lowered himself down next to her.
robe pocket, then daintily daubed at his perspiring
skin. “Warm day, no?” he said
nervously. “When Servy
– my butler, you met him earlier – flooed me to say
you’d been round, I knew I’d best apparate home immediately.”
“Mister
Charmichael,” Dianthus said urgently, “can you tell me what the hell has
happened to my sister?”
Charmichael did
not look at her, focusing instead on the fountain on the lawn below them.
He sighed and muttered, “Bad business, this, bad business.”
Dianthus waited
for him to go on. He made quite a show
of folding his handkerchief and stuffing it back in his pocket.
for your grandfather’s death,” he said finally.
“Well, she’s
already told me she blames me for Grandpa.”
“Yes, but I’m
quite certain that’s not the root of the matter.
his next words very carefully. “I’m
afraid Aster has convinced herself that if she had the magical ability that you
have, she could have prevented Peregrin’s death.
currently hates you. Of course, she’s
extremely jealous of you, and that doesn’t help.”
with the whole thing. I have her seeing
the very best wizarding psychologist available, someone who specializes in
Squib/wizard sibling rivalry.”
“She’s seeing a
shrink?” Dianthus gasped.
“Not
willingly. We made a deal,
grandfather expressly wished that both his and your grandmother’s wands be
broken and burned with him. I saw how
attached Aster was to one of the wands, and convinced him, before he died, to
allow me custody of Elanor’s – your grandmother’s.”
“I know my
grandmother’s name,” Dianthus snapped.
Charmichael sighed
again. “I intended to make a gift of it
to her, upon her coming of age. Anyway,
he gave me the wand, but several weeks ago, I told Aster she could to use it
now – if she went to counseling.”
“You blackmailed
her,” Dianthus said grimly.
“I knew your
grandfather a long time, Miss Brandywine.
I saw his heartache at having a Squib son, and his joy when you were
accepted into Hogwarts. We all thought
Aster would get the letter as well. None
of us knew that she was taking it as badly as she has.
to his library, and was trying to learn magic on her own.”
“I know that.
when I was home on holiday.”
“Ah, well, part of
her issue – that’s what the wizarding psychologist called it, her ‘issue’ – is
that she believes you were deliberately misguiding her.”
“What?” Dianthus
bellowed. Charmichael winced.
efforts? We worked for six weeks solid
on one simple spell, and it never worked
right!”
“But the small
effect she was able to produce convinced her that you were hiding something
from her. This is what the wizarding
psychologist is trying to overcome. Your
grandfather’s death was simply the final straw – the feelings have been
building in her ever since you went to Hogwarts – and as she’s worked on her
own, able to produce abortive spells or unintended results, her conviction has
grown stronger.”
Dianthus groaned
and leaned back on the bench. “Why
didn’t I ever see any of this?” she demanded.
“Well, you’re home
for a short time in the summer, and at the holidays, and she was able to mask
her growing resentment for those periods.
And then, the past few summers, you’ve been doing some pretty intensive
potions research even outside of school, with some success, only fueling her
delusion that you could have prevented your grandfather’s death, if only you’d
focused on the proper area. And then,
you were in your N.E.W.T year…”
Dianthus closed
her eyes. Aster’s feelings mirrored
she muttered.
Charmichael
coughed again. “It will take some time
for Aster to truly accept that she is a Squib.
She needs objective proof that her magical ability simply does not
exist.”
“Why didn’t you
tell me this before?”
“Well, when Aster
– ah – came to stay with me, I wasn’t fully aware of the gravity of the
situation. Your grandfather told me that
Aster was having a difficult time, and we both put it down to his illness and
the trauma his impending death would cause.
It was only after she arrived that I realized how angry she actually
is. I worried that without intervention,
she would spiral into chaos. I fully
intended to inform you of the situation next week – we have an appointment to
review your housing situation, I believe, on Monday?”
“Yes,” Dianthus
admitted.
“I never thought
that you would attempt to visit Aster beforehand – after how she…behaved after
your grandfather’s death.”
“I thought she was
just heartbroken, like I am,” Dianthus said miserably.
“It goes a bit
deeper than that, I’m sorry to say,” said Charmichael sadly.
psychologist does as well – that, with proper treatment, Aster will be able to
deal with the reality of things. At that
point, we can work on reintegrating the two of you, and repairing your relationship.”
Dianthus looked at
the corpulent wizard with new respect.
“My grandfather chose well in deciding on a guardian for Aster,” she
said.
The old man’s face
brightened slightly. “I’m very pleased
you think so, Miss Brandywine. I know it
won’t be easy, but if we just give her some time, I believe Aster will come
around, and you’ll have your sister back.”
“You’ll let me
know how things go?” said Dianthus, anxiously.
“Of course,” he
replied, struggling off the bench. “But
now, I’m afraid you really should leave.
I’ll owl you regularly. In the
meantime, I suggest you focus on your schooling.
acceptance on her own.”
“I understand,”
mumbled Dianthus, rising as well. “Good
day, Mister Charmichael.”
“Call me
Dianthus watched
him disapparate, and decided to follow suit, feeling
utterly alone and quite despondent, and not at all like walking back to The
Leaky Cauldron.