Being a Greengrass after all should sound pretty serene.
But being a part of "the Emeralds" should not, especially when hearts become entangled with the infamous Regulus Black.
Goodness, lawfulness, or evilness. Which path will they tread in the ti...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
September 2nd, 1977
Avery woke up to the dull gray light seeping through the window, her limbs heavy and her mind still fogged from the night before. She blinked slowly, the memory of last night's sleep paralysis clinging to her like a cold mist in winter — the familiar helplessness, the weight on her chest, and the flicker of something at the edge of her vision she knew wasn't real but couldn't forget. It always came to her when she pushed herself too far, and yesterday had been a marathon — walking all the way to Hogwarts and then staying up late with Dorcas and Pandora until well past midnight for their usual "girls' night."
Avery dragged herself out of bed and brushed her teeth half-asleep, her head leaning against the wall, and fumbled through her trunk to find a clean white shirt and skirt. She tugged on her shirt, fastened a dark blue tie loosely, and pulled the skirt over her tights. She couldn't be bothered with the robe, not today. Her hair still smelled faintly of firewhiskey and whatever enchanted perfume Pandora had sprayed on all of them during their "glamour hour."
By the time Avery stepped into the Great Hall, the noise hit her like a wave — clinking cutlery, fluttering owls overhead, and the sharp click of Professor McGonagall's heels echoing off the stone floor as she moved between tables, handing out timetables with her usual precision. Avery made her way toward the Ravenclaw table, where the emeralds were sitting. She slid into the empty spot next to Pandora, who was drawing shapes in the condensation on her goblet.
"Ave, can you pass the sugar?" Barty asks, not even glancing up from his toast.
Avery shot him a deadpan look, noticing how the sugar bowl sat well within his reach — barely an arm's length away.
"It's the O.W.L.s bet," Dorcas chimes in, rolling her eyes. "He's been acting helpless to me and Evan all morning."
Hearing this, Barty's smug grin widened, and before he could utter another word, Avery reached for the sugar bowl with a sudden burst of energy. Without warning, she grabbed a hefty handful of sugar and, with a flick of her wrist, splattered it directly across his face. The table fell into an amused silence for a split second. Barty blinked, his eyes wide with surprise, the white granules sticking to his face like glitter.
"What the fuck??" he exclaims, wiping at his eyes with a napkin, clearly in shock, but his grin quickly returns.
"What?" she shoots back, trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "You asked for it."
Just as she leans her head on Pandora's shoulder and clutches her sleeve, a piece of plain toast comes flying towards her, launched with unmistakable intent. It smacks Avery squarely on the head before bouncing off and striking Pandora's goblet, causing coffee to spill out and splatter across Avery's class timetable spread out on the table.
"Shit, shit," Avery mutters, hastily snatching the paper away before the ink blurs completely.
"Barty!" Pandora yells, exasperated, as the toast culprit springs to his feet and bolts from the Great Hall without looking back—clearly uninterested in hearing complaints or suffering any possible retaliation.
