Being a Greengrass after all should sound pretty serene.
But being a part of "the Emeralds" should not, especially when hearts become entangled with the infamous Regulus Black.
Goodness, lawfulness, or evilness. Which path will they tread in the ti...
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September 1st, 1976
"Avery."
No response.
"Avery!"
Still nothing.
"Bitch, wake up. It's seven thirty-three."
Avery groaned as daylight suddenly poured into the room, forcing its way beneath her eyelids. She buried her face deeper into the pillow before a particularly bright ray landed squarely across her face the moment her sister yanked the curtains open. "Ugh—Vio! Do you always have to do that?"
"Yes," Violet replied matter-of-factly, unfazed. "Mom and Dad fought again this morning."
The pillow slipped from Avery's face. Of course they had.
She had seen it coming. They always seemed to find the worst possible moments—birthdays, holidays, exam days, the first of September. Anything that was supposed to be happy inevitably became another casualty of whatever war they insisted on waging inside those walls. Sometimes she wondered if they realised they were doing it. More often, she decided it didn't matter, because intent didn't soften the outcome.
Only this year felt different, at least in the way that Violet had already graduated in June. She worked at the Ministry now, spending more time away from home than in it. For the first time in years, the train to Hogwarts would leave with only one Greengrass daughter aboard.
Avery pushed herself upright, not bothering to ask if the fight was bad or not anymore. "We're leaving at ten?"
Violet nodded. "Mum left early. Grandma wasn't feeling well."
"So she didn't even say goodbye."
The words came out flatter than Avery intended. Violet offered a small, sympathetic smile. "I'm sure she'll write when you're at Hogwarts."
Right. Letters.
The thought pulled Avery's mind somewhere else entirely, cutting through the morning like a clean line. Prefect announcements.
She'd been made Ravenclaw Prefect this year, alongside a shy, studious boy named Henry whose name she'd already forgotten half of in favor of his nervous expression. She still hadn't decided whether she deserved it. Being a Prefect came with privileges, one of which was receiving the list of every other Prefect before the start of term. Most names she'd skimmed over, and one she'd read twice: Regulus Black, Slytherin Prefect.
She hadn't been surprised. If anything, she'd have been more surprised if someone else had been chosen. Regulus carried responsibility as naturally as breathing. He rarely sought attention, rarely raised his voice, and somehow managed to command respect anyway. It suited him.
She wondered, briefly, whether he'd already pinned the badge onto his robes. They weren't the sort of friends who exchanged letters everyday or arranged visits during holidays. Their friendship belonged almost entirely within the walls of Hogwarts, tucked between lessons, late-night conversations in the library, and Hogsmeade weekends. Still...she found herself looking forward to seeing him again, which she refused to examine why.
