𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐧 | 𝐭.𝐦.𝐫

𝟏𝟔

It wasn't until Draco informed Aster about the letter from his mother that Aster finally felt satisfied about the situation. If there was anyone best to get back at him it would be through Narcissa.

Aster was no snitch but she felt it was the last favour she can do for her since if not for Aster pardoning him, her son would practically be a paraiah for what he'd done—to the queen no less.

What was four became five. Draco's integration into their circle was seamless. It was familiar companionship after all. Without the animosity, Draco was actually decent if not full of hidden snarky humor in a different light.

Her court accepted him quickly enough after he was publicly pardoned, despite not being filled in on what transpired in their conversation between the Aster and Draco. That was something Draco had asked of her and she obliged.

The backlash from the reveal of her being a parselmouth was beginning to show itself and even though her relations held strong—after all she was nothing but the innocent, hard-working, and friendly Girl-Who-Lived who defeated You-Know-Who, what do you mean she's evil—there were still those she hadn't made contact with that were the most adamant protesters that she was the Heir.

Despite the fact that there has been no further attacks. Some people you just can't argue with, no matter the number who defended her. Though those accussation would soon be whisked away to nothing as the Yule break fever would spread and people would naturally speak of other things.

But now she had other issues to take care of.

'Call me little devil another time so maybe I could send Dumbledore to hell and it just might work' Aster scribbled to Riddle in a hurry.

'A little devil and the antichrist, what a pair we make.'

'Dumbledore's worst nightmare, apparently.'

'He always has been after us Slytherins.'

'Was he the Headmaster that denied you refuge back then? I could see him doing that.'

'He was only the Transfiguration Professor back then, but I'm sure he shared the same sentiment.'

'Really? Even perfect little prefect Tom Riddle wasn't liked by Dumbledore?'

That was another thing they seemed to share. Wearing a mask to fool the rest of the ignorant public of their true nature. There was nothing a pretty face and pretty words cannot win over. How vexed he must've been to fail catching such prey.

'Our first meeting was nothing short of disastrous. I can show you, if you like,'

'Let me see.' She let herself fly close.

The diary's pages flipped endlessly, a glow spreading throughout the space and it was like gravity no longer worked as Aster lost her sense of balance and was suddenly falling forward.

She landed in a haze of smoke as she scrunched her eyes to rid of the headache from whatever kind of travel that was.

To her surprise it was the same orphanage she stayed in for a while.

Despite how it should've looked newer instead it looked decrepit. The paint was peeling from the walls crawling with mould and the gate she could see outside from the window was falling on itself.

Far from how she shared a room with other girls, this room had a single bed and closer to storage unit than it was fit to be a bedroom. There was a single wardrobe, a wooden chair, and an iron bedstead.

She moved her focus toward the two people in the room.

The old man had auburn hair, still lengthy along with his beard. It was Albus Dumbledore, certainly, albeit younger he still sported the same eclectic fashion.