"Does this make you happy, Mr. Hart?" Astoria Greengrass asked, her voice trembling with tears.
She stood by a willow tree more than ten yards away. Droplets rolled from her long lashes, falling silently to the ground.
Jon felt his breathing grow unsteady and took a few steps toward her.
"I'm sorry," he said, biting his lip.
"That's all?" Astoria choked out. "You lied to me for months, and a simple apology is enough?"
Jon froze on the spot.
He didn't know what to say.
"When I heard you'd died... do you know how it tore me apart?" Tears streamed down Astoria's cheeks. Her eyes were swollen and red, her face filled with heartbreak and resentment.
"I'm so sorry…"
"Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why did you wait days before writing that letter? Why didn't you open the mirror afterward? Why did you ignore me for months?" Her voice broke as she sobbed. "And why come back to Hogwarts? Did you want to fool me all over again?"
"I'm sorry…" Jon whispered, when suddenly a sharp pain made him yelp. "Ah—!"
The Bowtruckle on his hand had bitten him—hard—as if joining Astoria's outrage.
It then darted from his grasp, scurrying up the nearest willow branch and baring its tiny teeth at him in defiance.
Jon clutched his hand, where a line of blood marked the bite.
Astoria looked up. Her tear-streaked face softened into worry as she instinctively took two steps toward him.
Jon gritted his teeth, gathered his courage, and rushed forward.
Before she could retreat, he pulled her tightly into his arms.
...
Tears fell like droplets from a leaking faucet, soaking into his robes.
Jon felt his right shoulder grow damp, but he said nothing. He simply held her close, gently running his fingers through her pale golden hair.
He stayed like that until her sobs subsided and her breathing calmed.
"I'm truly sorry…" Jon murmured. "But... this was all Professor Dumbledore's plan."
He had decided that, to comfort her, he'd let Dumbledore take the blame for everything.
"You-Know-Who really returned?" Astoria asked, disbelief and fear in her voice.
"Yes," Jon nodded. "Even his return was part of Dumbledore's plan. I'm sorry, I can't share too many details, but... I was accidentally drawn into it."
Jon gave her a brief account of what had happened the previous term—though he kept the most important details vague or omitted them altogether.
"I can hardly believe it…" Astoria whispered, her expression pale.
"I didn't have a choice back then," Jon sighed. "I had to transform a hidden Death Eater to look exactly like me... and then You-Know-Who killed him, right in front of Harry Potter."
"To everyone else, it looked as though I'd been murdered by You-Know-Who."
"After that, I couldn't show my face anymore. So I fled to Sweden, then to France, and took on a new identity—with Professor Dumbledore's help, of course."
"Dumbledore didn't want me to tell anyone I was still alive... but I couldn't bear to leave you worrying. So I sent Fawkes with a letter. Because I trust you—I knew you'd keep my secret."
Jon felt the faint tremor that ran through her body in his arms.
"No one else knows. Not the teachers, not the students."
"I never told anyone either," Astoria said quietly. "Not even my sister or my mother. They don't know what that letter said."
"Thank you," Jon murmured, holding her a little tighter.
...
After that explanation, much of Astoria's anger seemed to fade.
"Then why did you come back to Hogwarts?" she asked softly, no longer accusing.
"Because I couldn't get you out of my mind," Jon said plainly. "That's why I came back. Though... I couldn't leave everything else at Hogwarts behind, either."
For the first time, a faint smile appeared on Astoria's face.
"And you?" Jon asked quickly. "How did you figure out it was me?"
"The moment I heard a transfer student was joining the fourth years, I suspected it might be you," Astoria explained. "Ever since you arrived, I've been watching you in secret."
"You didn't act like someone who was new to Hogwarts—and you kept avoiding my eyes..."
"Then the next day, I had Jorglin send you a letter," she added proudly. "I addressed it to Jon Hart, and it went straight to you. The owl knew your scent—it couldn't possibly be mistaken!"
Jon suddenly remembered the empty letter he'd received the previous morning.
He hadn't realized it had been Astoria's test.
"Why did you still keep it from me when you got here?" Astoria pressed.
"Because I didn't know how to face you," Jon admitted honestly. "I didn't know how to explain everything... or whether you'd ever forgive me."
"Hmph. What you did was awful—truly awful," Astoria said, tilting her head as she rested against him. "But after thinking it through... I've decided to forgive you."
"Thank you," Jon breathed, visibly relieved.
He wiped the tear marks from her cheeks with his sleeve. "Don't cry anymore. Your eyes are all puffy."
"That's your fault…" she muttered.
"I swear, nothing like this will ever happen again!" Jon said quickly, seeing her expression darken once more.
"You'd better remember those words," Astoria warned. She took his hand and looked at the bite from the Bowtruckle. Then she pulled out a bottle of Dittany and a bandage, applying the potion carefully before wrapping the wound.
When she finished tying the bandage, she let out a sharp little huff.
"And I think you deserve a little payback."
Before Jon could react, she leaned down and bit his arm.
...