DRAYA MATEI: SUMMER HOLIDAY, 1972
She hadn't let herself think it, but Draya had been hoping—secretly, unconsciously—that somehow, once they arrived home, things could just go back to normal between her and Leo. She hadn't forgotten their fight(s), although she'd been doing her best not to think about them. But what she really wanted more than anything as she approached the doors of her family home was to see her best friend laugh again, and know everything was forgiven between them.
Unfortunately, any hopes she'd had for a joyful reunion were quickly dashed. There was no one waiting to greet Draya when she entered the house with her mother—who had spent the entire journey back from Platform 9 and ¾ lecturing viciously after she saw her daughter stepping onto the platform, side by side with Carolina Osorio (Leonie, of course, had exited the train with Sinistra Cresswell and her gang of idiots).
When she sought out her friend, Leonie was sullen and withdrawn. She had always tended towards melancholy when they were at their respective homes, and had a bad habit of isolating herself when she was upset. But this was different. Leo greeted Draya with a sneer that she had never seen on her friend's lips before, an expression that twisted her features in a mean way. In the past, Draya would only have needed to apologise once to see the adoring light flood back into her friend's eyes and know that everything was okay. But now there was resentment, a thorny bramble that thickened the longer they were home, and Draya realised that she had no idea how to unpick it.
Thus began some of the most miserable days of Draya's life. Without her friend, life at home became unbearable. At The Academy, Draya had always been surrounded by friends. Suddenly alone, she felt as though some protective covering had been ripped away; a blanket or cocoon peeled back, exposing her to the bitter cold of loneliness.
Draya found herself spending quite a bit of time squirreled away in the library, taking refuge, as she so often had growing up, in books. She managed to distract herself by browsing some of the tomes her father kept on hexes and curses—really nasty ones, the kinds that she couldn't find in the books at The Academy. Her father's collection was full of them. Draya tried not to think about what this meant.
She was aware, as anyone who had grown up in the Salem world inevitably was, of Dark magic. She had heard vague references to Dark warlocks, past wars and atrocities. But though the term frequently came up, Draya had never been able to find any clear explanation about what, exactly, made a warlock "Dark," with a capital D. It seemed that in the history books, whatever witch or warlock was the enemy was labelled Dark with no further discussion.
Even in their classes, the professors never came out and said what, exactly, fell under the umbrella of their expertise. Curses, certainly, were dark magic—but students at The Academy cursed and jinxed each other all the time, and none of them were Dark wizards. As far as Draya could tell, there was no clear line in the sand; the term was nebulous, shifting depending on what politician was in power.
Still, she knew that many of the books in her family's library would likely be banned from the shelves of The Academy, and she was coming to realise that in the eyes of many wizards, the Matei family was full of Dark magic. She supposed that this meant the Mallow family would also be considered Dark. That it was this Darkness, in fact, that contributed so heavily to their reputation and shaped the tangled fear and respect with which many approached them.
Draya had never thought of her family as Dark. Certainly, they were involved in quite a bit of magic that might raise eyebrows at The Academy. They were politically shrewd, ambitious and power-hungry. They were hated by many, including, oftentimes, Draya herself. But—well. She didn't think her parents were Dark warlocks, for all their flaws. It wasn't like they were evil. Even if they owned quite a lot of creepy books.
