~Where dwell the brave at heart, their daring, nerve and chivalry sets a Gryffindor apart~
What if there was another prophecy made? It talked about a girl destined to the with the chosen one.
Regulus Arcturus Black. His name was forgotten, his dee...
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DearLia,
It's very upsetting and disturbing to know whatishappeningaround in Hogwarts.
Unfortunately, I have stand no chance against her. If anything, I fear it could only become worse for me.
I really am sorry.
Don'tgetinto any trouble. I wouldn'thave minded had it been anotheryear, butafter the gained knowledge. I'drather you stay on your best behaviour.
Don't do something foolish, specially not on impulse.
Look after yourself.
Also, what is this I hear about you and Harry?
Love, Remus.
As expected, the letter was nothing very pleasant.
Cordelia sighed as she folded the letter.
"I really don't understand how you can call that half-breedyour guardian" Draco said the the word half-breed with disgust that could have rivaled Umbridge's hate for half-breeds.
Cordelia had made the mistake of sitting with the Slytherin's for breakfast that day.
Lia fisted her hands as she glared ahead.
"Whatever you prat" she spat before abruptly walking away.
"What was that about..." Blaise asked aloud as he saw Cordelia walking away.
Cordelia sat alone for History of Magic. Not wanting to talk to or listen to anyone's ranting.
She hadn't been doing her best when it came to socialising.
But seeing that she had Daphne, it worked. She didn't need a hundred good for nothing friends. Unlike Draco.
As they moved to Potions, they heard Draco bragging about how Umbridge had given the Slytherin quidditch team permission to practice only because Draco went to ask her.
“I mean,” said Draco, raising his voice a little more, his gray eyes glittering malevolently in Harry and Ron’s direction, “if it’s a question of influence with the Ministry, I don’t think they’ve got much chance. . . . From what my father says, they’ve been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years. . . . And as for Potter . . . My father says it’s a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo’s. . . .apparently they’ve got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic . . .”
