❝ would you do anything for me? buy a big diamond ring for me? ❞
━ in which evita rosier, a slytherin pure-blood and evan rosier's younger twin, is the reason of james potter's daily annoyance
or
━ in which two different people find themselves goin...
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Hogsmeade, with its quaint cobblestone streets and whimsical charm, offered a much-needed break from the rigid halls of Hogwarts. For the students, it was a world of magical indulgence, a place where they could escape the constant pressures of school life and lose themselves in the warmth of the village's enchanted shops.
As the Serpents—Evita, Evan, Regulus, Quintessa, and Azrael—strolled through the bustling streets on a crisp Saturday afternoon, the sights and sounds of the village enveloped them.
Honeydukes, the legendary sweet shop, beckoned from a distance with the unmistakable scent of caramel and chocolate wafting through the air. Even the most disciplined of students couldn't resist the temptation. Evan's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Salazar's tits, this is heaven. I could use some Chocolate Frogs. And maybe some Fizzing Whizzbees."
Azrael grinned, slapping Evan on the back. "Honestly, you've got a sweet tooth as large as the size of the Forbidden Forest, mate. But I'm in!"
However, before they could bolt to the said shop, Quin spoke, "We're here for a relaxing day, not to eat sweets until Ev's teeth fall off. Let's explore other places first."
Evan almost wanted to throw a fit at that while the rest of the group continued their meandering journey, their laughter echoing through the narrow streets.
Evita, glancing around, commented, "I wonder if any Dark Arts books are hidden in that dusty corner of Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Not that I need any, of course."
"You and your fascination with the Dark Arts." Regulus rolled his eyes, nudging her playfully. "Let's leave those creepy books behind for today, shall we?"
"Mate, I swear to sweet Merlin above, you've got to get rid of that stache," Azrael commented as he glanced at the snow settling on Evan's mustache that he's grown and kept since the summer of their 5th year. "I'm surprised your mother hasn't set it on fire yet."
The Rosier matriarch has made her disapproval very clear with the said stache, but Evan was simply too fond of it to let it go. He thought it suited him, though none of his friends or relatives seem to agree, deeming it as untidy.
"Oi, if Dumbledore can sport one then so can I," Evan replied.
"Dumbledore almost has a floor length beard and is, what, a hundred years old? Probably was here when Hogwarts was built. You, however, are sixteen." Azrael made sure to add as many hand movements as possible to further emphasize his point.
"You're not convincing him to get rid of it," Regulus stated, looking at Azrael. "If Mrs. Rosier can't, no one else can."
"Suffered a Cruciatus for that then, I reckon?" Azrael swung his arm on the Evan, who looked remotely annoyed at the gesture.
"You bet," He said simply.
Finally, they reached The Three Broomsticks, a favorite hangout for witches and wizards, that called them out with its inviting warmth and promise of delicious Butterbeer. The windows were decked out with festive decorations, and the cheerful sounds of laughter drifted into the crisp air. Evita led her friends through the door and into the lively pub.
