Champagne Problem, Theodore Nott

o. ❪ prologue ❫

𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ━━━ 
𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑢𝑡𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒

      "𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐄'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐄," was the first thing Stevie Lovett said when Albus Dumbledore finally stopped announcing his lengthy message.

    "What have you got against Professor Snape?" Blaise Zabini wondered aloud, shooting her a puzzling look.

    Not that she held a grudge against Professor Snape despite the relentless jokes she makes related to him, it was Dumbledore who was her least favourite. The man was ancient yet somehow never possessed the ability to speak in anything but riddles.

    "Have any of you seen Yashna?" Cruella Lestrange asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the Slytherin boys and girls. Her curly hair was starting to sprawl all over the notebook Stevie was sketching out an idea for a building on — an odd, oval-shaped building with pillars and strained glass windows. 

    "Oh, oh, she's right there!" Daphne Greengrass pointed in response towards the other side of the Great Hall where Yashna Arora finally stepped in. "About time, she made it."

    "Yashna, where the hell have you been?" Stevie called for her, watching her trying to untangle her hair using her fingers. Yashna has always been a hot mess, having no sense of discipline or attention to the time. Stevie made a mental note to give the girl a watch for her birthday.

    "What have I missed," she asked gleefully, sitting down in between Stevie and Cruella, "bloody hell, who are all these people?"

    "The Minister of Magic," Theodore Nott spoke although he was not being spoken to, lazily gesturing towards the front with a bored look, "really, Arora, do you know anything about Britain?"

    "I know who the Minister of Magic is, you arrogant git," Yashna bit back, and Nott let out an unbothered chuckle.

    "You've got Barty Crouch Senior over there who was a much better fit for Minister compared to that buffoon Fudge," Cruella declared aloud as though the man was not in the room with them.

    "Heart of stone, that one, I'd argue he would not lead pleasantly," Stevie shared, "sent his own son to Azkaban."

    "Except, that is not the only reason they say he's stone," Draco Malfoy said, "it's what he did with his other child."

    "Barty Crouch doesn't have any other children," Stevie said, "Crouch Junior is the only one, and he's in Azkaban."

    "Word is he's a grandfather," Daphne Greengrass said in her usual dramatic manner, she was very fond of gossip despite adoring responsibilities and pleasantness.

    Draco nodded in Daphne's direction in agreement, "One is imprisoned, yes, but Barty Sr. had a daughter."

    "What are you on about?" Stevie asked.

    Theodore rolled his eyes, "You parents never told you about Coralie Crouch? What sort of bedtime stories have you fallen asleep to, then—? Alice in Wonderland?" Everybody shared awkward glances at Stevie's confusion, and then out of nowhere, Theo let out a cruel sort of chuckle out of amusement. "Forgive me, I forget you're not pureblood—"