Chapter 1 - You Are A Memory

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12/15/2020: I have edited this chapter for some clarity--general clean up as I do not have a Beta. Thanks for reading!!

Hi guys! :)

This is a DracoxOC fic that has been living rent-free in my brain for a month or so, I just haven't had the time to get it all down. I'm not sure that it qualifies as slowburn for this chapter, but from here on out, it will be. You'll understand why at the end of this chapter.

I will be disclosing TWs at the beginning of any chapter where they're necessary.

As always, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise—none of JK Rowling's characters or storylines came from my brain. I lay claim only to my own original characters who have been placed into JK Rowling's world—Rowan, Orin, Callum, Maggie and Laura.

Chapter 1 — You Are A Memory

TW: blood, death, vomit.

Rowan Blake.

Third year.

I smoothed my robe in the mirror, straightening my green tie against my chest. I took one deep breath before I turned on my heel to slide the bathroom door to the side and exit. We were approaching Hogwarts for my third year—I felt like I'd never make it here. The break had stretched on, far too long sticky and humid in the United States' Georgia heat, where my family had visited for two long months alongside the Diggorys.

The rain that now pounded against the windows was a comforting sound—no matter how humid it was in Georgia, it never seemed to actually rain. When it did, it was not a cool drizzle, it was sideways rain that felt like microscopic bullets against your skin. When it finished, the air still felt heavy. There was no relief.

I walked slowly back to my shared compartment with Malfoy, Goyle, and Pansy. I had grown tired of Pansy's longing stares into Malfoy's eyes and excused myself to change clothes. As though he had the context clues to pick up on her complex feelings for him. I wasn't convinced she felt love for him, but I'd believe that she lusted after him. After his family's renown.

As far as I was concerned, he only cared about being an arsehole to those who he perceived as below him.

Which, to be fair, was almost everybody. Almost.

As I prepared to slide through the door to the correct section, a warm hand clapped down on the shoulder, pulling me backwards. I whirled around, facing the inviting smile of Cedric Diggory.

"Merlin, Ced! What do you need? We just saw each other," I recalled, thinking of his father's cigar-scented, organ-crushing hug I'd received shortly before departing for Hogwarts.

He rolled his eyes and dropped his hand. "You'd think you'd be nicer to an official Prefect," he replied with fake concern, bringing his hand to his chest as though he'd been hurt.

I crossed my arms matter-of-factly. "Really funny. I don't think you'll be the one dishing out my Detentions this year. Try again. Is there something I can do for you?"

He fixed his own bag around his shoulder as he shrugged. "Not really. If you'd like to come to the Hufflepuff Common Room tonight, we're having a small get together."

"Because I obviously can't get enough of you," I said sarcastically, pretending to fawn over him.

"Yeah, right. I'll wait at the edge of the Great Hall if you want in, alright?" He turned to make his way back to his own compartment and I shook my head in disbelief.

Cedric had been a good friend to me all summer. Our families ideals had always aligned, but our fathers had also been in Hufflepuff together. By default almost, Cedric and mine's mothers had become quite good friends over the years.

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