𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠- 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕓𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕚

chapter 1: greetings and goodbyes

tw: very mild mentions of homophobia in this chapter

Rigelle

Rigelle had come to find out that her mother had severe separation anxiety

"You do not—under any circumstances—have to stay there if you don't want to, Astre." Hélène de Brûle was gripping her daughter's shoulders and firing warnings and goodbyes in rapid French.

"Send me a letter and I'll be there in a second, but either way, promise me you'll be careful. Make good friends, and don't worry about being sorted into Slytherin like your father or making the 'right kind of connections' as your grandmother told you," her mother mimicked her grandmother's haughty voice and made a face as she repeated Walburga's words from the previous day.

The woman herself chose to make her appearance just a second after, making Rigelle repeat her usual ritual—shaking hands, frozen bones, spine locked in perfect posture, faintness, ragged breathing. Her hair would have darkened again if it hadn't already been pitch-black out of nervousness. Walburga held a cruel smile on her thin lips, and brought her hand forward to caress Rigelle's face with long, sharp nails.

The arrival of the Malfoys interrupted a long rant of 'bringing honor to the Black family' and 'sticking close to Dearest Draco.' Chandra looked like she was about to be sick, while her twin, Draco seemed to be having the time of his life. But that was nothing far from the ordinary. While Chandra's combination of pointed features and lack of haughtiness made her look ill, Draco had learned how to wield his looks and status like a pointed knife at a mere eleven years old. It was similar to the way Lucius, his father, carried himself. He had authority over others, and knew it, often using it to his advantage.

Rigelle only understood the gravity of Chandra's worry, though, when her cousin slipped to her side and tightly wound their hands together. Chandra wasn't particularly comfortable with touch, even from her loved ones. Rigelle had never been big on physical displays of affection, so it never strained their bond in any way. But as Walburga greeted Lucius and Aunt Cissy, while patting Draco on the back affectionately, they recognized the need to support each other.

So there they stood, pale shaking fingers intertwined, frantic hearts matching beat by beat, standing united against their family and its oppressive ideals.

Zenith

Zenith was late, as usual. The Lupins had never been punctual, but still she mentally scolded herself while racing past muggles at the train station, wide eyes taking it all in. Remus ghosted her steps behind her. This was her first time outside their little cottage, save for her grandpa's house. It should be overwhelming, but Zenith only felt wild anticipation.

She almost tripped in confusion as she saw a sea of ginger in the corner of her vision. There were, what seemed like, twenty red-orange, bobbing heads with a dark haired bloke in the middle who looked very confused.

Maybe the Ginger Gang kidnapped the poor sod, she thought, setting her trunk down and preparing to say her goodbyes to Remus. Her grandfather couldn't be here, but had wished her a good year at school and told her to "make some trouble," with a cheeky wink.
Remus looked down at her—she was still waiting for her growth spurt, unfortunately. He assured Zenith he was going to be just fine without her, which (naturally) she disregarded, and jokingly fussed over him, straightening her father's cream cardigan.

"You've to do laundry at least once a week, don't forget. And don't drink too much coffee, Pa. That shit is gonna kill you one day," Zenith put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him. She had never understood the appeal of the bitter substance, often getting sick if she had so much as a drop of it.