ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴛᴛᴇᴅ ʟɪʟᴀ ʜᴏʟᴍᴇꜱ || ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟꜰᴏʏ x ᴏᴄ || ʏᴇᴀʀ 4

rumours

Last summer, I was investigating the identity of my father's new girlfriend. The following summer, my father insisted that I was in my "rebellious phase." He was probably right. I cut my hair (rather, Angela did) so it sat just above my shoulders. I started experimenting with my makeup and clothes (more luck on the former than the latter, I'm kind of a fashion disaster). And last but not least, I'd finally learned the liberation in listening to music really, really loud.

This is no doubt the influence of the aforementioned girlfriend, as she'd bought me the record player, as well as Sirius Black, who'd brought me the records.

He'd send a different owl every time, always with a new record attached. He'd have my mother's favorite song underlined, and he'd make sure to let me know in his letters which were his favorite. Sometimes he'd just send some he'd think I'd like. Apparently my mum had really liked Fleetwood Mac, so I listened to Rumours a lot.

I inquired about the logistics of these transactions, but Sirius had a simple explanation: his "miserable old house elf" had them taken from his vault under the family name. That's how he'd paid for Harry's Firebolt too, apparently.

Sirius wasn't the only one spoiling me. Angela has tsked and called him old-fashioned for sending me Bowie and The Rolling Stones. Angela responded by making sure I was "up to date," and presenting me newer artists she listened to like Mazzy Star, the Cranberries, and Alanis Morissette.

My father, of course, might have been just as much an influence. He provided me with more ABBA, more Nirvana, and started sliding the Smiths and Radiohead in as well. Now I had an abundance of records and was listening to music almost all the time. I felt like I finally understood my Aunt Kara — music is good for the soul.

This also might have been because I was plagued with nightmares and flashbacks alike. I no longer felt sick but sometimes I'd be stuck in bed all day with a migraine. I couldn't help but dream vividly, so I couldn't discern what was real and what wasn't.

Hence why I woke one night in a cold sweat, heart hammering and still shivering from the chill of the room I'd been in. A snake had lunged at my face. I'd feared for a moment I'd died. After realizing it was yet another too-real dream, I simply put on Rumours to calm myself down. It was a great album — I could see why my mother liked it so much. My favorite song was probably Gold Dust Woman. Hers was Dreams.

My sleep was dreamless afterward, but I slept in so late I had to scramble to get ready to go dress shopping with Angela. Yes, you read that right. Me. Dress shopping. I wouldn't, if it weren't for some mandatory and top secret event that was to take place at Hogwarts this year.

Angela has friends everywhere apparently, including Ludo Bagman himself, who had blabbed to her all about it over tea sometime in July. I've noticed that it's hard for people to resist Angela's charms, though I've found out recently that it's because she's part Veela. She'd had to explain that to me while cutting my hair.

Furthermore, Veela would be Bulgaria's mascots for the Quidditch World Cup, so I'd get to see Ron and Harry make complete fools of themselves. Then again, that wasn't really anything new (affectionately).

Having to shove all my records, the record player, the dress, and the several extra outfits Angela had packed for me had been a futile attempt until Angela performed some kind of Charm to make my trunk large enough to climb into. Granted, it was only about the size of a small cupboard, but still impressive. It was quite light too.

Having a magical person around really was quite helpful, and I knew my father agreed. We were living a life of luxury, watching in amazement our dishes now doing themselves. I feared we were growing complacent — what if one day they turned on us?