"Didn't know you was into gingers, Malfoy?"
"Shut up Weasley"
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Gemma Weasley shared many similarities with her siblings, the ginger hair, pale skin, freckles and a super sense of humour, yet she was the one that stood out from them all. Even her tw...
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The train back to Hogwarts was quieter than usual, the complicated yet festive cheer of the holidays giving way to the weight of the new term. Snow still blanketed the countryside as the Hogwarts Express sped north, and though I tried to focus on the book in my lap, my thoughts kept drifting to Draco.
We hadn't spoken much since our last meeting, but his brief letter—delivered by an unfamiliar owl—remained tucked in my pocket. Stay safe, Gem. I'll see you soon. The words replayed in my mind as I gazed out the window, the landscape blurring past.
Hermione and Ginny sat across from me, absorbed in their own reading. Though things with Ginny had softened since our talk, there was still an unspoken tension between us. I knew it would take time for her to truly accept my choices, and I was willing to wait.
As the train slowed to a halt at Hogsmeade Station, I wrapped Draco's scarf tightly around my neck and followed the others into the biting cold. The carriages awaited us and my heart twisted as I climbed into one.
The castle loomed ahead, its warm light spilling across the snowy grounds. For a moment, it felt like a sanctuary again—a place where we could be children, even with the shadow of the war pressing in.
But as soon as we stepped into the Entrance Hall, Professor McGonagall was there, her sharp gaze settling on me.
"Miss Derbyshire, the headmaster would like to see you in his office. Now."
Hermione and Ginny exchanged worried glances, but I gave them a reassuring nod before following McGonagall up the stairs. My mind raced as we ascended toward Dumbledore's office. He didn't waste any time waiting after his letter informed we needed a meeting.
At the top of the spiral staircase, McGonagall knocked once before opening the door.
"Miss Derbyshire," Dumbledore said, his tone warm but serious. "Please, come in."
I stepped inside, my gaze flicking over the familiar room—its shelves lined with books and trinkets, the soft glow of the Pensieve in the corner. Fawkes sat perched near the window, watching me with curious eyes.
McGonagall left, the door closing softly behind her, and Dumbledore gestured for me to sit.
"Tea?" he offered, pouring himself a cup.
"No, thank you," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
He nodded, settling into his chair. For a moment, he studied me, his blue eyes twinkling with an unreadable light.
"Gemma," he began, his tone gentle. "You have had a rather eventful term, haven't you?"
I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. "I suppose so, sir."
"Your relationship with Mr. Malfoy," he said, his voice soft but piercing, "has not gone unnoticed."
