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(🥀)═══ CHAPTER ELEVEN ❝ it only gets better and worse from here ❞
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The Hogwarts Express chugged along the tracks, carrying its eager passengers back to the familiar halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In one of the wider compartments of the train that has been taken over by a couple older Slytherins, three friends sat together at a booth, ready to tackle their fourth year.
Mazikeen, leaned back against the cushioned seat, flipped through the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.
She had grown taller over the summer, her frame now more slender and graceful. Her long dark hair was braided back, and her eyes, once wide with childish curiosity, now held a more focused determination.
Mazikeen had spent the summer either under her father's wing —exploring several magical interests and the political wizarding world— or outside the Malfoy Manor —playing quiditch with Abraxas and Alphard, as it has become tradition for them during their summers.
When she wasn't doing either, you could find her huddled up around a cup of tea, whispering with her mother about everything and nothing. It was undeniable; after every summer, there was a new, quiet confidence about her.
"Blitz Devastates London: Hundreds Dead, Thousands Displaced," Read the headline of the first page of the newsletter.
Mazikeen's eyes scanned the article, her brow furrowing with each passing sentence.
The report detailed the relentless bombing of London, describing how entire neighborhoods had been reduced to rubble. It spoke of families torn apart and children evacuated to the countryside.
The article continued with narrowing descriptions of firestorms that had swept through the East End, consuming homes and landmarks alike. The once bustling streets were now filled with debris, the air thick with smoke, and the acrid smell of burning.
Abraxas, seated across from her, Artemis sprawled lazily across his lap, had shot up in height, now towering over his peers with a lanky, almost skeletal frame. His platinum blond hair was cut in a more stylish manner, and his sharp features gave him an air of sophistication.
"What does it say?" he asked, his tone more curious than concerned.
"It's about the war," Mazikeen replied, her voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and fascination. "London's been hit really hard. Entire neighborhoods destroyed, so many people lost..."
