𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 . 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓

𝐋𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐒.

SEPTEMBER 1, 1993;

Third year had arrived in the blink of an eye, Of course, with some havoc caused by a group of specific three students. Four-eyes, Weaslbee, and kiss arse. That's what Viola dubbed them, both to their faces and behind their backs.

A couple months prior, she had celebrated her thirteenth birthday. Her grandmother made sure to spoil her with the finest treats: Jules, Gallons, and even a brand new garden in their courtyard, adorned with flowers, specially the one she was named after.

Her relationship with her grandmother was peculiar. It wasn't necessarily terrible; all she had to do was meet Victorie's expectations to maintain harmony. However, these expectations were set quite high, and Victorie held unwavering beliefs that Viola wasn't allowed to question.

"I hope you approach this year with seriousness, Viola." Victorie remarked as they neared the train.

Victorie had only grown sterner as the years passed, more aggressive. Especially now, considering the man who had gotten her beloved daughter pregnant had escaped Azkaban and was now on the loose, this created an even messier reputation for her granddaughter.

She was almost in denial when talking about it, not that she ever did so, choosing to ignore the topic when talking to Viola. But Viola wasn't stupid; she knew that Victore was doing something that had to do with Sirius, most likely cleaning up the said mess.

"You act as if I haven't taken the past two years seriously." Viola replied, rolling her eyes and glancing to the side.

Viola adjusted her black skirt, which fell to the middle of her thigh, paired with thin tights, a fitted white shirt, and a slightly oversized leather jacket she discovered in a box labeled "1978."

"Don't misinterpret my words," snapped Victorie, her slim figure adorned in a long black fitted dress, her hair in its usual slicked-back bun. "You'll be starting elective courses this year, chèrie. I expect nothing but excellence from you. Understand?"

Her tone was cold, lacking warmth. Viola knew her grandmother cared deeply for her, but this was just her way—harsh.

"Of course, grand-mère." Viola replied stiffly, nodding.

The young girl then placed a pair of sunglasses she had found in the same box. She used it as a makeshift headband to keep her hair out of her face. This action made Victore scoff, snatching the glasses off her head and forcefully placing them on the girl's chest.

"Don't be foolish, Viola," Victorie scolded.

"Of course, grand-mère," Viola muttered, annoyance evident in her voice, feeling like she had repeated that statement a hundred times already today.

Victorie then caressed her granddaughter's cheek, studying her features. Although Viola didn't resemble her daughter, she took after her father, much to Victorie's dismay.

Viola had striking grey-blue almond-shaped eyes, well-defined arched eyebrows, fair skin with a mole above her lips, that were a shade of light pink. That was all Sirius. Victorie couldn't deny her grand-daughter's uncanny beauty, and she felt a sense of pride in it.

"Right then," sighed Victorie, releasing her grasp on her face, and gazing around.

Despite her advanced age, Victorie's face showed little signs of it. While she did have a few wrinkles here and there, her dark eyes remained vibrant and not sunken. Her blonde hair still maintained its thickness, and her cheekbones were sharply defined, almost as if they could cut.