FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT ► harry potter ¹

010. Holidays

CHAPTER TEN

(tw: sexual assault, spiking.)

CHRISTMAS IN THE SLYTHERIN Common room was a spectacle of excess and indulgence, an annual tradition where opulence was displayed without restraint. The room, dimly lit by a flickering fire in the large stone fireplace, was draped in green and silver. Shadows danced along the dungeon walls, casting an eerie glow over the few students who remained at Hogwarts during the winter break. Most had gone home, but those who stayed behind were the pureblood elite—an assortment of heirs and heiresses whose parents found it more convenient to keep them in the castle rather than in their homes.

Pansy Parkinson sat perched on one of the green velvet sofas, her sharp, nasal voice cutting through the low hum of the room. She was in the middle of boasting about her latest acquisitions. "I got a new wand—twelve inches, cherry wood, core of basilisk fang. Custom-made, of course. And look at these shoes!" She extended one leg to display a pair of ornate silver slippers encrusted with emeralds. "And my parents bought me a new owl—direct from the Alps."

The other girls ooh-ed and ahh-ed in exaggerated awe. To Lyra Black, sitting cross-legged on the floor near the fireplace, it was nothing but noise. She glanced up from her activity—ripping apart an old, forgotten roll of parchment. She tossed the torn pieces into the roaring fire, watching them curl, blacken, and turn to ash with a certain satisfaction.

Pansy continued, "Nothing here is cheap," and she flicked her dark hair, turning her head to show off a pair of diamond earrings that caught the firelight, making them sparkle with a cold brilliance.

"Except you," Lyra drawled without looking up, her smirk widening as she threw another piece of parchment into the flames.

Pansy's face flushed an ugly shade of red, and her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "Believe me, I'm not cheap," she retorted, her voice low and venomous.

Lyra didn't miss a beat. "Fine, free then. Whatever." Her tone was light, almost amused, as if she was playing a game only she understood.

Pansy's jaw clenched. The common room went quiet except for the crackling of the fire. Charlotte, sensing the tension, tried to intervene. "Ladies," she said softly, trying to smooth things over. "It's Christmas. Let's not ruin it."

Lyra ignored her, her attention caught by something tucked under a pile of torn wrapping paper and empty boxes. She reached out and pulled a small green velvet box from the debris. It was unmarked, with no tag or name to indicate who it was from. Intrigued, she flipped the lid open. Inside, nestled in a bed of silver satin, was a gold pendant with an intricately carved "L." The pendant was dazzling, with diamonds set around the letter that caught the light and refracted it like tiny prisms.

"Wow!" Daphne Greengrass exclaimed, her eyes widening. She leaned in closer, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. "That's beautiful, Lyra! Who's it from?"

Lyra shrugged, her eyes still fixed on the pendant. "I don't know," she murmured. She picked up a piece of thin, yellowed paper folded neatly beneath the pendant and opened it. "There's a note," she said, and began reading aloud, "'Your mother bought this for you when you were born.'"

The room fell silent. An uncomfortable silence, thick with tension, settled like a fog.

"And you don't know who sent it to you?" Charlotte asked, her brows knitting together in concern.

Lyra rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Charlotte? I just said I don't know." She reached for the letter, but Charlotte, ever the cautious one, pulled it back, her expression troubled as she scrutinized the note.