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Close your mind, I beg the boy on the floor. Please. For if they know what he is thinking, he will die today. If they knew, they would kill us both, these men, friends of my father, champions of my childhood. Close your mind. I think. Or both of us will die.
We are young, but we will be a part of this glorious new future. No more will I have to hide my true parentage and history. Someday, the name “Tor Yaxley” will inspire greatness, as the mention of my father will bring lesser wizards to their knees in homage.
The Slytherin Boys
“D’you reckon You-Know-Who ever went out for Quidditch?” Phin adds thoughtfully. Pyxis and I exchange incredulous looks.
The Association of Slytherin Students
When Pansy sees Malfoy, she simpers – an awful thing to see on a face that looks like a pug – and throws herself down into his lap, wrapping her thin arms around his greasy head. I turn away in disgust, and wiggle my eyebrows at Pyxis. He sticks out his tongue, mocking panting like a dog, and I stifle a laugh before Pansy starts glaring at me.
The Death Eater's Daughter
My father would return to his growing family. He would quietly search for his master. He would not follow the Lestranges, Dolohov and his friend Mulciber’s foolish footsteps to the Dementors, screaming their loyalty to Voldemort obsession on the beaten-down path to Azkaban. He would not go the same way as poor Evan Rosier, dying in defense of a name.
The Worst of Crushes
The strange boy jumps up in surprise as I enter, and my first thought is that I’ve never noticed him before.
The Quidditch Trials
Surely, we are the purest of purebloods, and great witches in our own right. Theo and Pyxis, too. Theo and Daphne will be of age this year: will they leave Hogwarts forever in the pursuit of something greater?
The Hospital Wing
Quidditch, the Dark Lord thinks with bated amusement. What a thought.
The Bat Bogey Hex
I’m worried that Ginny Weasley will make me explain myself, but she seems to be smiling at a secret joke and snorts to herself in a rather un-ladylike manner.
Its strange to think of Muggles having wars, having kings and leader and revolutions. I usually don’t think of them much.
Leanne’s friend suddenly levitates into the air, her arms spread wide in a most unnatural way, her lips parted in a silent scream.
I am a fool.
But instead of the familiar black head and laughing blue eyes, I am accosted by Ginny Weasley on the way to Charms.
Emma smiles brightly at me. “I’d had a vision about you, and I thought you should know. I don’t usually reveal my visions to people unless I think they need to hear them."
I smirk at him. “Are you saying that Zabini is, what was it? Spectacularly, inhumanly beautiful?”
“Alright,” I tell him reluctantly. “But if you screw this up, its your head on the chopping block.”
Snape sits down again, wearily massaging his temples. "If you five put your magical talents and resourcefulness towards your academics, I would have five of Hogwarts' highest students sitting in front of me."
"You didn't poison all the Slytherins, did you?" I say with mild worry to Terry, raising an eyebrow as I turn to face him. "Because that might be hard to explain to the parents."
The Queen's Tale
Anne sniffs a little. "It was my own power and foolishness that brought me to my death, and of course the foolish Muggles of the time. You would do well to heed my warnings, young Astoria."
The Slug Club Party
"Winter wonderland," Theo says drily.
The Other Side of London
Halfway down the spiral stairway I come face to face with Terry and the Ravenclaw girl Leanne, who is laughing hysterically at something Terry has just said.
The House of Nott
I feel uneasy and awkward as we pass the dank, crammed cells, whittled into the stones of Azkaban as if the prison had been hollowed out around these dirty pockets.
The Ball at Malfoy Manor
Everyone knows the real business goes down in the back rooms. There are whole wings barely anybody sees.
Time moves slow.
The Secret on the Staircase
"I can trust you, right, Tor? I know... you're different. And I think I might know your secret too."
The Boy from Ravenclaw
Anthony takes care of Mike, and I take care of Anthony. And Tor takes care of me, but neither of my best friends know about that yet.
The Slytherins Unleashed
I never thought Demetria would be the one to drive the wedge in the relationship between Terry and I, the nail in the coffin of a relationship that was doomed since its inception.
I confine my thoughts into careful regiments, saluting at my command, silent and somber. My emotions are a cold breath on a warm day, a flicker of darkness in a well-lit room. Sometimes I fear I will descend into nothingness: unloved, unwanted, undecided.
There is no sign of a thin figure moving through the darkness, and I light my wand as the path narrows and I find myself next to Greenhouse Three. As Terry promised, one of the higher glass window panes is open, and I eye it nervously.
“What’s happening now?” Terry whispers. I am perched upon his bed in the hospital wing, peeking an eye through the curtains which are drawn about it.
I raise my eyebrows at Pyxis. His eyes are shrouded by dark circles beneath them, his dark hair messy and unbrushed, his robes hanging off his thin body.
We have no way of knowing what night this is, what will happen in the late hours of midnight. But you might know, reader. You might know what happened next.
The thing is more than a memorial, than a grave: it is a symbol of lost hope, of possible futures forever beyond reach.
The first domino falls without a sound.
The Fall of the Ministry
My father comes home very happy one July night. A secret smiles lingers at the corner of his face, and he kisses my mother on the lips and brings out rather expensive chocolates for Daphne and I and asks if we need any help with our schoolwork.
The Beginning (Again)
Soon, a darkness descends from the sky and envelopems the train as we draw into the station, the shallow roofs of the village lit by torches in the streets.
My heart beats in my throat. Carrow's eyes say it all.
Either way, things are not looking promising for Ginny’s impulsive, fool-hardy mission.
I draw my wand, rushing through the defensive spells that I know. My heart pounds in my chest, up into my neck, constricting my airway, but my mind is strangely clear.
“Perhaps it is horrible – but I think your father wants to you see what this war truly means,” Draco says quietly. “There are two ways to seduce wizards and witches into his order.” He looks down. “Through glamour. Or through fear.”
The next day is the sort which leads to frost gathering at the edges of windows, creeping and creeping towards the glass, casting a silver glow over the view of the garden. It is the sort of morning where my eyes sting from the tears that stained my pillow, my jaw sore from the clenching of teeth, my skin cold, the hair rising on its ends.
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