She was the last of her line, according to her father. A natural parseltongue, and a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin.
Gaunt. The long lost Slytherin heir. The long lost phantom queen.
She was bred by her father to be determined, cunning, ru...
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"Come on, Mor, we'll be late and Diagon Alley will be packed up, I need to get that firebolt and gloves!", Aidan Lynch screamed from the ottoman waiting for his younger cousin.
"Coming, cousin dearest, beauty takes time, of course, you wouldn't understand", Mor said clad in an emerald dress and a black suit.
"Yes, yes, I get it, the queen has a reputation to uphold, now come on!"
She nudged her cousin as they appeared in Diagon Alley. Aidan extended his arm as she looped an arm around it, an aristocratic gesture. Passing through the alleys and shops, people would nod or lightly bow their head in recognition. They would never disrespect the Gaunt girl.
"Go to Flourish and Blott's, I'll go to get my firebolt. I'll meet you there. Mother said that you could pick any book you want that has to do with your lessons!", Aidan said, slowly sprinting for his firebolt.
He got into the Irish team. He was to be the new seeker starting this summer. He'll be gone after this year. This would be his last year. Aunt Mala and Uncle Seamus were livid that he chose Quidditch, but when they saw that the Ireland team only accepted pureblood, they were glad. He was promised to greatness with his impeccable skills. Whoever took his spot on the team had big shoes to fill.
That was another scold at home. Both their Uncle and Aunt fumed when they found out that Morrigan was the new Slytherin chaser. However, Aidan convinced the couple that she was the first female, and that she was proof a strong bloodline coming from the only female competitor. In the light of this, they let her train with Aidan the small time he was home. It was the only thing that kept her away from her reputation duties.
Besides that, Uncle Seamus unsheathed a bound scroll full of possible understandings. She could spot from the top of the scroll men almost twice her age that made her flinch. Three names were circled with a black ink.
Draco Malfoy. Theodore Nott. Blaise Zabini.
She could have gutted herself right there. The thought of being something else with her best friend repulsed her. The fact that Draco Malfoy was in the list made her scoff. Of course, Lucius Malfoy would look for the best bloodline to grasp his slimy fingers in. She wouldn't allow him to even have her that easily. She knew that if she wanted to secure a promising future, then Draco Malfoy was the best choice.
She scoffed at the list, throwing it in the fire. While her uncle scolded her, she could only watch the names vanish. She refused to have a man dictate her life. Not Lucius Malfoy. Not Draco Malfoy.
Walking to Flourish and Blotts, she inspected the eyes on many pureblooded heirs on her. She had grown. With Quidditch training and her teenage growth spurt, she was proving to have small curves with a slim aristocratic build and high cheekbones that made her face sharp and cold.
Before entering the place, she was ushered by a photographer to the front of the store. She glared at the cowering man who had placed his hands on her shoulder. Before she could even bother to give another glare, Gilderoy Lockhart pulled her to his side.
