mermaidinateacup
Cordelia Black was not raised to hesitate.
She was raised to observe, to calculate, and to understand exactly where she stood long before anyone thought to question it. A Slytherin by inheritance as much as by choice, she arrives at Hogwarts for her third year with her place secure, her loyalties intact, and a quiet certainty that the world makes sense if you know how to read it properly.
Harry Potter, unfortunately, does not.
To Cordelia, he is loud where he should be cautious, reckless where he should be precise, and endlessly protected by rules that never seem to apply to anyone else. He belongs to the wrong House, asks the wrong questions, and survives things that should have ended him. He is a problem she has no intention of solving.
But war does not ask for permission, and allegiance is rarely as simple as blood.
As the years pass and the lines between right and necessary begin to blur, Cordelia finds herself standing in a space she was never prepared for-caught between serpents and lions, between what she was taught and what she sees, between the world that raised her and the one that is burning.
This is not a story about kindness learned early, nor about redemption offered freely.
It is a story about choice.
And about what it costs to make one.