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.
August 14th, 1979
The Ministry lift rattled as it descended, its brass grille vibrating softly with every passing floor. Dim golden lights glowed overhead, reflected in polished metal that had seen decades of hurried officials, nervous applicants, and exhausted Ministry workers shuffling through its confined space.
Avery stood near the back, one gloved hand curled around the strap of her satchel. The other remained tucked into the pocket of her coat. She had dressed carefully that morning. Tailored dark coat. Practical boots. Hair pulled neatly into a ponytail, but not too tight. Unfortunately, no amount of preparation seemed capable of quieting the nerves coiling low in her stomach.
The folded parchment tucked inside her satchel might as well have weighed a stone.
The words had been burned into her memory the moment she'd broken the Ministry seal. Five days ago, the letter had arrived by owl shortly after breakfast. She remembered staring at the wax seal for nearly ten minutes before opening it, absurdly convinced that delaying the moment might somehow change what was written inside.
The lift gave a soft ding, and the grille slid open to reveal the polished, echoing corridor of Level Two. She stepped out into the corridor, her boots tapping lightly on the floor, her shoulders squared. The corridor smelled faintly of aged parchment, sharp ink, and stronger tea—comforting, in a strange way.
Dark wood panels framed the long hallway ahead, each adorned with deep green Ministry banners stitched with golden thread. She passed witches and wizards in deep conversation, filing paperwork, or heading toward other examination rooms with tight expressions. The corridor was already busy despite the early hour.
And then, as she paused before the Auror Office entrance, the memory came, of the moment she'd opened her N.E.W.T.s results just a month ago; it had been an unusually warm morning at Greengrass Manor. The breakfast table was set with fresh fruit and still-warm croissants, though Avery had barely touched hers. Her eyes had been locked on the owl circling above the orchard for the past twenty minutes.nWhen it finally swooped in through the open windows, it landed with a clatter of claws on the wood, shaking off dew and presenting the parchment with a certain pomp. She hadn't moved at first.
Violet, meanwhile, had been thoroughly enjoying her suffering. "You know staring at it won't make it reveal itself."
Avery had torn the envelope open with slightly trembling fingers, then stared.
