March 31st, 2004 - the birth of Y/N Crimson.
Two years before the First Wizarding War (1995-2006) ended, the newlyweds - Caspian and Amaryllis - welcomed a beautiful baby girl into the world. A blessing from God himself accorded upon the good Brit...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇
"Mr Potter and Miss Crimson-Thornfield."
Y/N and Harry turned around, and the crowd of students that had crowded them parted. McGonagall made her way over to the children, sporting her usual emerald green dress and raised eyebrow. The students averted their gaze, murmuring to themselves.
"Never, in all my time at Hogwarts — "
Parvati Patil stepped forward. "It wasn't his fault, Professor — "
"Be quiet, Miss Patil. "
"But Malfoy — "
"I said be quiet," McGonagall's head whipped around, blue eyes sharp beneath her square spectacles. "Crimson. Potter. With me. Now."
The students shared glances with one another, waiting for someone to say something and not finding it. Draco and his goons snickered underneath their cloaks, but straightened up the moment Y/N's gaze swept over them.
"Stay where you are," McGonagall told the class, and then, to Y/N and Harry, "Come along."
Y/N exchanged a quick look at Harry, then followed. Harry came beside her, still holding the Remembrall; his face damn near blue from sheer nerves, clammy hands and all. Y/N raised an eyebrow at him and huffed ever so.
"What are you so worried about?" she asked.
Harry looked over at her, terror written all over his face. "What if we get expelled?"
Y/N rolled her eyes. "We're not getting expelled."
Behind them, the class broke back into motion. Draco's voice carried through the most.
"She's going to get them both killed," he said.
"Shut it, Malfoy," Hermione shot back, though not very convincingly.
McGonagall led them across the grass at a pace with no regard for whether they could keep up or trip and fall. Y/N matched her steps with Harry's without looking at him. The three passed the edge of the pitch and went up the slope toward the castle. The noise of the class dropped behind them, replaced by the soft drag of shoes over grass and the distant movement of the trees beyond the lawn.
Harry swallowed, then mustered up the courage to ask, "Did we do something wrong?"
McGonagall did not turn around. "Yes."
