Vengeance; hp universe

chapter nine: school's... back in.

Escaping Ronald's grasp was actually decently easy after the Death Eater attack. I stayed for a few more days, mainly sticking to the twins or Hermione, and then claiming that my aunt was rattled by the attack and needed me at home.

Petunia stared at me like she could see right through me when I got back, and I just smirked as I left. The green eyes I'd 'inherited' from her sister were sparking eerily, a weird color against the skin that seemed to grow paler the longer she looked.

"Au revoir, Tuney," I say with a smirk, leaving her behind. I walk around the corner, pulling out a portkey of my own. Despite my personal feelings on the transportation method, it was efficient enough to satisfy me.

When I arrive back at the manor, I'm greeted with Rogue, tail flicking lazily on the table at the entrance. She mews when she sees me, padding across the floor. I pick her up, cooing, and walk through the house to the kitchen.

Whoever told Molly Weasley that she was good at cooking needs to be obliviated. Or told that they're a liar with the inability to even make coherent sense. Either would work. I nurse a cup of coffee as I flip through the mail that's arrived since I'm gone. Not a lot-- just basic obligatory invitations to different soirees and the like.

I pause at a Malfoy soiree invitation, flipping it over to open it. Just out of curiosities sake, and I read a lot of language that can be summarized to: Draco's old enough for us to think about marrying him off. Come here, flaunt your child, and we'll see.

The letter drops back onto the counter, and I sip my coffee again. There's a Daily Prophet for me to read, about Sirius Black, etcetera, and I wonder where she's getting the complete and utter bullshit that she keeps spewing. I watch Rogue pounce at the paper, claws digging into the articles, and I leave her to her fun.

My letter from Hogwarts has arrived~

I take it upstairs, with a fresh cup of coffee, to the portrait room. I sit down on the couch, looking up from the letter, to be greeted by another face in the portrait. "Hello, dearie," the woman says, looking as if James' mother.

"Hello," I greet back carefully, sipping my coffee.

"I'm Euphemia, dearie, your grandmother." I nod at that, figuring it out from their similar facial structures. I sip again.

"Nice to meet you," I say kindly, smiling at her. James comes into the portrait, then Lily. "Mother, where were you-- ah! Prongslette!" James sits down at the chair, leaning to the edge of the painting, and Lily sits on the arm of his chair, Euphemia situated in the chair that Lily normally sits in. "I assume your Hogwarts letter has arrived?" Lily comments, a hand on James' shoulder like he was an overzealous puppy she had to calm down.

Euphemia seems to be thinking the same thing as me, if the fond look on her face is anything to go by. "Yeah, and there's a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... again."

"Again?" Euphemia questions, and I explain how the position was 'cursed,' and that two teachers so far were a. possessed, and b. absolute idiots. She tsk-ed, commenting, "I always knew that Dumbledore would run the school into the ground." James whines, "Mama..." and she gives him a look. He shuts up.

"What... what do you mean?"

"Well, darling, most of us disapproved of Albus Dumbledore having any sort of reign over the school, considering how he grew up... such a shame, that poor, poor girl."

"What girl?" I question, feeling as out of depth as I did the first time I was in Diagon Alley, but without the awe. I was just.. numb. What horrific thing has the headmaster done now?