From a young age, Leonora Potter had discovered that she was quite different from the rest of her family. After getting sorted into Slytherin, her relationship with the Potter's crumbled, and she was forced to find family in other places. Perhaps th...
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December 31, 1978 - Sunday
New Year's Eve came quicker than Leonora would have liked, the dreaded day she had attempted to delay in her mind, as if ignoring it would somehow change what awaited her. It was only her second time attending, though the thought of returning year after year already tormented her mind.
She sat on the edge of the bed in the Crouches' guest room, legs dangling over the side, eyes fixed on the dress hanging from the wardrobe. She had just bought it at Diagon Alley, a simple black satin gown that fell just to her ankles, similar to what she had worn the year prior.
A sudden, quiet knock at the door broke the silence within the room, making Leonora jolt up and immediately cross the room toward the wardrobe.
"Just a minute," she called out, already tugging at the hem of her shirt, scrambling to make it appear as if she had been ready all along, rather than sitting in quiet dread for the better part of an hour.
She wrestled the dress off its hanger and stepped into it quickly, the cool satin sliding over her skin in a familiar way.
She smoothed down the dress with one hand while running her other through her hair, attempting to fix whatever damage the rush had caused. Then, she crossed back across the room and pulled the door open, slowly.
She expected it to be Barty.
Instead, his mum stood there, smiling gently.
"There you are, Leonora," she said, her voice warm. "I don't mean to rush you, I just thought I'd let you know that Barty is ready whenever you are."
Leonora opened the door a bit wider, straightening instinctively. "Sorry it's taking me so long," she said with a sheepish smile.
Cressida waved it off. "No need to apologize, dear." Her eyes then drifted to the dress, her smile softening. "Don't you look lovely. The dress suits you beautifully."
Leonora glanced down at herself, heat rising to her cheeks at the compliment. "Thank you. It's similar to the one I wore last year. Plain, so I don't stick out any more than I need to."
Cressida raised an eyebrow knowingly. "I take it you aren't very fond of the New Year's party, then?"
Leonora sighed and turned on her heel, beginning to search for her shoes. "I've been dreading it all day."
The older witch stepped into the room lightly, her voice soft. "I know how suffocating that gathering can feel. How every sharp stare feels like a weight on you."
Leonora paused for a moment, glancing up at the witch. "Barty told me you never go to the parties."
Cressida gave a small smile. "I used to... until I fell ill. After that, I couldn't even breathe without feeling eyes on me. I could sense the whispers behind my back. Those people are judgmental. My husband thought it best if I didn't attend anymore."
