In a world where the title boldly declares "Voldemort's bride," fear not, dear readers, for the spotlight is soon stolen by none other than Draco x OC!
But wait, there's a twist - brace yourselves for the enticing allure of Snape x OC, complete wit...
Ah, the blissful last days of summer at the Weasleys', where warm beds promise sweet dreams until Mrs. Molly decides to transform the morning into a symphony of chaos.
Wrapped in the comforting cocoon of slumber, I'm jolted awake by Mrs. Molly's primal scream echoing through the Burrow.
Grumpy and disheveled, I stumble downstairs in my nightgown, rubbing my eyes like a sleepy owl.
"Mrs. Molly, why are you screaming so early in the morning?" I asked, my voice a blend of confusion and annoyance.
She dismisses it as the mischievous antics of the twins and Ron, a daily occurrence in the Weasley household how they stole their father car to bring back Harry.
As I yawn my way through this early morning drama, I spot Harry, who greets me with a smile. "Aria," He says, reaching out for a hug with open arms.
But oh no, not today. I swiftly halt him with a hand firmly planted on his chest.
"Silence has its own language, you know. But seriously, not a peep from you since the holidays began. I was half-convinced to see your name on the list of magical casualties!!" I huffed annoyed,
I storm back to my room and entered the bathroom, but Harry, ever persistent, follows. As I brush my teeth and wash my face, he attempts to explain himself.
"But Aria, listen to me. I was with the Dursleys, and they didn't let Hedwig out. How am I supposed to write to you?" He pleads, invading my morning ritual.
"If you had read my letters properly, you would have found an object teleportation spell I meticulously wrote. But since you didn't think it was necessary to read my letter, you wouldn't know," I retort, gritting my teeth in annoyance.
With a dramatic flourish, I shed my nightgown, leaving Harry flustered and red-faced.
"Do whatever you want! What do I care!" I scoff, donning a fabulous purple dress in a triumphant act of morning rebellion.
"I couldn't have known about the spell!" Harry protests. "That's the point, Harry! You never read my letters!" I snapped. "I tried to write back, but—" He argues.
"Excuses! I'm done with your negligence." I interrupt. "Aria, please, let me—" Harry pleads. I cut him off, "No, Harry. Actions speak louder than apologies."
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"But I didn't receive any letters, that house elf Dobby or someone took them," Harry insists. "Ha! Bullshit!!" I scoff, dismissing it as nonsense.
"I'm not lying, Aria. Trust me. He even told me not to go to Hogwarts, said it was too dangerous for me." Harry pleads.
In a moment of clarity, I realize my mental adulthood requires a mature response. "Come here," I say, pulling him into a hug and he hugged me back.
"You grew taller," I observed. "Mmmm," He replies. "You look cuter," I chuckle, earning a frown.
