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Chapter 65: The News Brought by the Owl
This morning was Potions class.
She couldn't skip it.
Audrey reluctantly dragged herself out of bed and went to the Great Hall.
Ah—days without ghosts were truly good days.
"Good morning, Audrey!"
"Morning."
She had barely sat down when she heard the little snakes across from her whispering excitedly about Quidditch.
"Have you heard? Gryffindor's holding a new Seeker selection."
"I know. Their Seeker fell too badly last match—now he's too scared to play."
"Hah! Gryffindor, my foot. Where's his courage?"
"Don't laugh. Our Terence isn't much better. He's handed in his resignation to Flint too."
"What? Why?"
"His mother forbade him from playing again. He's the only son in the family—they can't risk him getting hurt."
"So… does that mean we don't have a Seeker now? The reserve is that third-year, Avery. He flies worse than I do! Does that mean we're guaranteed to lose to Ravenclaw after Christmas?"
"Professor Snape will organise trials. There's always a way."
As the Slytherins discussed Quidditch, Audrey calmly took a bite of a large meat bun.
Whoosh.
Hot juices burst out.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. The gravy froze mid-air, gathered neatly, then flowed straight back into her mouth.
Quidditch?
What did that have to do with her?
She'd rather focus on eating her buns.
"Audrey!"
Iselin walked over in surprise.
"Why are you here so early today? You were already gone when I went to your room!"
Audrey shook her head. She couldn't exactly say that her right eyelid had been twitching so violently that she hadn't been able to sleep, so she'd come down for breakfast instead.
"Am I really that lazy in your eyes?"
Iselin tilted her head.
…Wasn't that obvious?
"Iselin Windsor," Audrey said seriously, "I'm very hardworking. Otherwise, where do you think my singing skills came from?"
Iselin hesitated.
That was true. Audrey's singing was extraordinary—she must have practised tirelessly!
"Iselin," Audrey continued softly, "have you ever seen Hogwarts at four in the morning?"
Iselin's eyes widened.
So that was it!
Audrey must wake up early to practise singing. When she saw her lying in bed, she was simply resting after exhausting training!
"Audrey!" Iselin's eyes sparkled.
"Call me next time you get up early to practise!"
Audrey: …
She'd oversold it.
"Haha… we'll see, we'll see."
Just then, a flock of owls swooped in, rescuing her perfectly. They delivered letters and parcels with flawless accuracy.
Draco Malfoy happily opened a package from home—inside were all his favourite sweets.
"Malfoy!" Audrey's eyes lit up.
"Give me all the lemon liquorice!"
Without the slightest shame, Draco picked up a box and rushed over to her.
"Here! I asked my mum to buy this especially!"
Then he lowered his voice.
"My father remembered—it's your favourite."
Audrey paused, then whispered,
"You told your father about me?"
"Don't worry, Cousin," Draco murmured, making sure only she could hear.
"My father won't tell anyone."
Audrey frowned—not because of Lucius, but because she could feel an extremely hostile gaze.
It came from Pansy Parkinson.
Tch. What business is it of yours if I talk to my cousin?
"Cousin," Draco continued excitedly, "Dad also helped restore your reputation!"
Audrey snapped back to attention.
At the same moment, Iselin gasped.
"Audrey—look at today's Daily Prophet!"
She shoved the paper into Audrey's hands.
The front-page headline read:
"HYDRAS LESTRANGE, WANTED FOR FIVE YEARS, WAS FRAMED!"
"Another Miscarriage of Justice by the Ministry of Magic!"
"After his arrest, Bod Grey confessed to framing Miss Lestrange in order to seize the Lestrange family fortune. This reporter has reason to believe Veritaserum was used during questioning."
"Barty Crouch, former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and current Director of International Magical Cooperation, provided evidence from the original case."
"Hydras Lestrange killed Northon Grey and Daniel Grey in self-defence."
"…"
Iselin clicked her tongue.
"The Grey family committed insubordination. They're finished."
Draco added proudly,
"My father's already taken over all of the Lestrange businesses. He's just waiting for Miss Lestrange to return and reclaim them."
Audrey glanced casually toward the staff table—at Professor Quirrell.
If it weren't for that cheap father of his, she thought, Lucius wouldn't be nearly this cautious.
Iselin asked in surprise,
"Why is the Lestrange fortune being managed by your family?"
Draco straightened smugly.
"Because Hydras is my cousin!"
He'd finally said it.
Even if he hadn't said Audrey Astray, what did it matter?
Sooner or later, these idiots would realise that the greatest singer in the wizarding world—Audrey Astray—was his cousin.
Draco Malfoy's cousin.
The thought made him tremble with excitement.
Audrey covered her face.
Idiot cousin.
Pansy Parkinson slammed her hand onto the table.
Daphne froze, then abruptly stood up, her face pale, and stormed out.
Because of that woman!
Two months' confinement—damn it!
---
After a moment, Iselin seemed to remember something.
"Oh, right—speaking of the Greys," she said.
"Do you remember Alan Ash? His mother was a sixth-generation Grey."
Audrey nodded.
"Of course."
"The people who attacked you that night," Iselin continued,
"were brought into Hogwarts through a secret passage by Alan Ash."
"Oh?" Audrey raised a brow. "How do you know?"
Iselin sighed.
"You're always hiding in your room. He was expelled yesterday and left Hogwarts."
---
Potions class.
Audrey looked down at Snape.
Despite his bitterness and hostility, he was still perfectly happy to use her to earn points for Slytherin.
In a single lesson, Snape awarded Slytherin twenty points—using her as the excuse.
A man should have some backbone, she thought.
"Astray—stay behind."
Iselin gave Audrey a I'll wait outside look and left.
Audrey approached Snape's desk.
"Yes, Professor?"
Snape's expression was unreadable—so controlled that Audrey strongly suspected Occlumency.
Is that really necessary? I don't even know Legilimency.
"I want you to become the Seeker for Slytherin's Quidditch team."
Audrey: …
Audrey: ? ? ?
Audrey: Excuse me?
Σ(ﾟдﾟlll)
For the first time in her life, Audrey mentally produced an emoticon.
"I refuse, Professor. I'm not suited for Quidditch."
"No detention duties," Snape said flatly.
"I'll approve a complete exemption."
Audrey: …
Could you not bribe people so shamelessly?
She hesitated.
The exemption was tempting.
But she truly didn't want to play Quidditch.
"Professor," she asked cautiously, "why me?"
"I saw you fly."
"I don't even own a broom."
"I find it difficult to believe you can't afford one," Snape replied calmly, staring at the witch who used Galleons as bedding.
"I will handle it."
"Professor, I've reconsidered. I still don't think I'm a good fit—"
"Five hundred Galleons," Snape said stiffly.
"I'll add another five hundred."
He looked distinctly pained.
"If you still refuse—get out."
"Agreed!"
Audrey accepted instantly.
A free broom.
A thousand Galleons.
No detentions.
She didn't like Quidditch.
But Snape offered too much.
After all—
No one's Galleons came from thin air.
Except hers.
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