Ecdysis

Chapter 17 - Fifth Year: Responsible

I ignored Dumbledore's speech about unity and fresh beginnings at the Welcoming Feast, in no mood for his vague brand of optimism. Waved hello to Theo across the table. His cheek was propped onto his fist, looking like he wished he were anywhere else. He smiled at me and said I looked like I'd gotten some sun. I hadn't, but it was a valiant effort. Daphne's gaze was faraway, hands on her lap, disengaged from the chaos around her. I didn't try to talk to her in front of everyone when it was clear she wanted to be left alone, but couldn't help but stare, feeling nostalgic for my vibrant friend from a year ago. Beside her, Pansy's hair was blue. Not all of it, just the bottom layer of her signature short bob. I couldn't decide whether I liked it or not. Perhaps on someone other than Pansy.

I was back at Hogwarts like I had longed for all summer, but it lacked its lustre. Returning to school never became easier. People weren't suddenly nice to me now that I had my prefect's badge and, if anything, the stares had only grown more ceaseless. I felt like I was constantly being watched. Whispers hovering behind my shoulder like ghosts. I knew it had to do with Viktor more than anything, but maybe it went beyond that. I'd 'rescued myself' during the Second Task last year after showing up to the Yule Ball in a Muggle dress that was elaborately flashy, and now I had earned prefect status in Slytherin House. The Mudblood was crawling up the ranks and she wasn't being subtle about it.

Blaise's goblet was tipped haphazardly to the side, cranberry juice dribbling down the edges like beads of blood as his dark eyes narrowed disdainfully on Draco's golden badge. He righted it the moment the juice leaked onto his hand, sparing his shirt cuff, which I realised upon entering the Great Hall was different this year, spanning nearly halfway up his forearm and embellished with dark green buttons and matching thread.

Blaise was serious about his vanity—his shirts were always pressed, his cuffs never ink-stained, his cloak perfumed with violet and peppercorn. He returned to school after every break with his hair styled differently. Sometimes parted in neat rows of tight braids, sometimes buzzed short. Today he sported short dense curls on the top of his head, shaved on the sides and back to a smooth fade with sharp clean edges. A thin dash shaved through his right eyebrow.

At first, I had assumed Blaise had embellished his uniform himself, but then I noticed the same design on Goyle's uniform, and beneath Crabbe's cloak, hanging lopsidedly off his shoulder as he stuffed bread rolls into his mouth like he hadn't seen food in weeks. Draco and Pansy too. Though not Theo, who tended to ignore uniform guidelines, or Daphne, who was usually well-dressed, but after last year, seemed disconnected from her former self.

I fidgeted with my boring shirt sleeves, wishing to hide them. The one year I couldn't afford it, Malkins decided to switch up our decades' old uniform. Such rotten luck.

The shirt collars were different too, deeply slanted and cut longer. Some of the girls sported bow-tied ribbons in their house colours instead of the classic striped ties. There was a chic French quality to them that made me wonder if Beauxbatons had spurred this change. Their frilly uniforms had certainly been eye-catching. Even Durmstrang's bold red coats and fur cloaks made for a dashing entrance. Hogwarts had paled in comparison. We'd looked so Muggle, I realised now that our uniforms had changed.

My gaze wandered to the girls at the lower-year end of the table, measuring who might be the same size as me. If I excused myself now, I could snatch one of their spare uniforms before anyone entered the dorms. The wealthy snobs would just assume they forgot to pack it. As house prefect, I already had our common room password: Parseltongue.

I glanced at Draco, weary that he'd notice me leaving. We were supposed to escort the first years to their dorms after dinner, giving them a tour along the way. But he was busy bragging loudly to a fourth year about becoming Quidditch captain since Marcus had graduated, threatening to cut those who didn't show him respect.