Cordelia Potter-Clermont, born a Potter but raised as a Clermont, is a girl caught between two legacies. When she arrives at Hogwarts in her sixth year, she is a whispered enigma-brilliant, alluring and veiled in shadows. Unlike her brother James, C...
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'Merlin have mercy.'
The thought surged through Cordelia's mind like a silent scream as her gaze swept over the sea of students before her. She despised crowds-the jostling bodies, the tangled arms and legs, the suffocating press of human warmth. The cacophony-a mingling of laughter, excited chatter, and the indistinct rumble of countless conversations-scraped against her nerves like shards of broken glass.
With a sigh, she turned to the one who had led her here, intending to ask what she was supposed to do next. But he had already forged ahead, his shoulders squared, navigating the mass with a determined air.
"Finally, you're here. I thought you might have run away," Barty greeted, his tone carrying a teasing lilt.
Regulus rolled his eyes but a smile tugged at his lips. "You always say good deeds never go unpunished, so one should never bother with them. From now on, I swear I shall listen to you."
Barty, lounging with casual arrogance, smirked. "Is this good deed in any way connected to the rather enchanting company you've brought along?" He nudged Regulus playfully with his shoulder, his tone light but his gaze curious.
Regulus let out a small, dismissive huff, eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, spare me," he replied, glancing back toward Cordelia.
She was making her way toward them, arms folded tightly across her chest, moving with a deliberate grace that suggested she was intent on avoiding any unnecessary contact with the throng around her. Her expression was one of practiced indifference, but there was a flicker of disdain in her eyes as they swept over the crowd.
As she drew closer, her attention shifted to Barty, her gaze sharp, piercing. "I'm here to collect a token from you," she said, her voice cool and composed. "At least, that's what I was informed by another student."
Barty straightened slightly, his fingers fumbling for a moment in his robe pocket, a slight flush coloring his cheek. "Ah, yes," he managed, his voice a shade lower, though he quickly cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. He retrieved a handful of tokens from his pocket, selecting one with a deft flick of his wrist and extending it to her. "Your number is on it. When it's your turn, it will light up, and you may proceed."
Cordelia took the token with a slight nod. She examined the token briefly, her expression inscrutable, then looked up. "Thank you," she replied with a formal politeness that felt almost dismissive.
Without another word, she began to move again, her eyes scanning the place for a quieter corner, someplace where the press of bodies was less suffocating. Yet, despite the chaos, she could not help but notice that the space by the window, where the two boys were standing, seemed to be the least crowded, almost as if their presence alone had repelled others from coming too close.
Regulus, meanwhile, had taken the bunch of tokens from Barty's hand, inspecting them with a raised eyebrow. "This whole system reeks of Evans," he muttered, his lips curling slightly. "James Potter couldn't come up with something this organized if his life depended on it."
