Chapter One
"There is no happy ending. I'm sorry, but there is no miracle solution that solves all problems. Life goes on even when we close the book. We still make mistakes, we still have things to overcome. The world will never be a perfect place. But you really just have to keep your chin up, and keep pushing on."
Out the window, the hills flew by quickly as the train chugged along. Cecilia Donahue paused for a moment, pushing the quill thoughtfully against her lips. She looked over her flowing script for issues and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.
"Oi, Dominique," She said suddenly. There was only one other person in the trolley, a lithe teenage girl with a strawberry-blonde hair and a freckle-spattered nose that was scrunched up in concentration. The girl looked up when she heard her name and put down her wand, taking a break from practicing her transfiguration.
Dominique Weasley's lips spread into an excited grin at the voice of her best friend. "You finally finished it? Lemme read, lemme read."
Cecilia handed the well-loved journal over and nervously sat on her hands. "Be honest, though." She told her sternly. "Don't sugarcoat it if it's awful."
Dominique nodded, shooing away Cecilia's worry hands and began to read thoughtfully, munching on a chocolate frog. Cecilia watched her dark eyes scan the words so lovingly etched onto the parchment. Once she was done, she handed the journal back to Cecilia, looking impressed. "Dude, it's amazing."
Cecilia scowled. "You always say that. Is it like, amazing enough to get published? I really want to be taken seriously as a writer."
"Well, it's relevant to today, and it comes from the heart. I don't see any issues with it. Except for perhaps maybe a missing Oxford comma or two."
Cecilia nearly shrieked. "For real? Where?"
"Nah," Dominique teased, sticking her tongue out. "I'm only joking. Grammar's perfect as always."
Cecilia shut the journal and smiled to herself, leaning her head against the window. "This sounds horribly idiotic, but I have a good feeling about this year, you know. Just think about it, a perfect year to cap off our Hogwarts experience. I'm Head Girl, you're our trusty Quidditch Beater and our Captain to boot!"
"Yeah, I'm looking forward to you helping me get away with a lot of trips down to the kitchens and sneaking around and such."
"Only sometimes," teased Cecilia. "I'd like to actually graduate, y'know."
Dominique rolled her eyes and smiled. "Whatever," She said, a jilting tone in her voice, "But you're right, it should be a good year if play our cards right."
"If only I can keep you in line," Cecilia laughed. "If I somehow I manage to, then I don't see why we can't win the House Cup, ace our NEWTs, and then dominate the Wizarding World together."
"Yeah, I'm imagining me as a professional Quidditch player someday, and you're Editor in Chief of the Daily Prophet."
Cecilia grinned, imagining it in her head. "Sounds amazing."
Dominique nodded happily, but she wasn't done fantasizing. "And then imagine our powerful little magical kids playing with each other, and both being sorted in Slytherin, like how we met."
"Aww, I like that idea." Cecilia pursed her lips. "But I thought you didn't want kids?"
Dominique thought for a moment. "Eh, maybe if I find someone who can keep up with me. That Lysander Scamander's looking better and better every year. Y'know, that Ravenclaw intelligence thing is sexy. You're friends with him, hook me up, will you?"
Cecilia burst out laughing. "Lysander's not interested, Dom."
"What?"
"You've heard the rumors about him and that MacMillian boy."
Dominique's eyes went wide in shock, and then they both went quiet. The short-lived silence was soon broken by Dominique's simple reply.
"Oh, I figured."
Laughter filled the compartment. So much that they could hardly hear the train whistle pierce through the air; they would be at their destination soon.
Later that night, as she sat at the Welcoming feast, surrounded by her friends and fellow Slytherins, Cecilia noticed a general feeling of nostalgia in the air. The Great Hall felt very bittersweet to her. This was the last sorting she would ever witness in her long seven years at Hogwarts. Like always, Cecilia cheered with the rest of her Slytherin housemates whenever a first-year scurried over to their green-clad table. The first new Slytherin, a girl by the name of Amelia Ambrose, wore the widest, most excited smile Cecilia had ever seen. How full of innocence she was. Little did she know she'd be so changed and experience so many new and wonderful things during her years here. Even though Cecilia was excited about the future, she had to admit that she would miss walking these castle corridors. As she saw the new Slytherin girl, she couldn't help but see another girl, one who was sorted nearly seven years ago. It was herself, a trembling young girl with long dark hair, wide blue eyes, and a chewed-up lip. Cecilia remembered being nervous and alone when that hat was placed upon her head. Funny how different she felt now, feeling so at home under the bewitched night sky ceiling and the floating, flickering candles.
"Feeling sentimental yet?" Dominique asked from behind Cecilia, a thoughtful tone in her voice. Cecilia turned to see a small smile on her best friend's lips.
"A little," Cecilia admitted. "I still don't know if I'd go through it all again, but I'm definitely not ready to say goodbye."
"I'd do all again in a heartbeat," Dominique said sadly, looking at a redheaded boy who had just been sorted into Hufflepuff.
"There's so much more out there, though. I'm excited to get on with my life."
"Oh, Ceils, only you'd say that." Dominique laughed and then began to recite from the Sorting Hat's song earlier in the Feast. "'Slytherin, the cunning folk, full of ambition, wearing the green cloak!'"
Cecilia laughed too, stuck her tongue out playfully. "Guilty as charged, I guess."
With that, she then turned her attention back to the Sorting to see a familiar face up next.
"Luke," The words trickled from Cecilia's mouth before she even knew it, and a small smile formed on her lips, barely containing her excitement. Her younger brother, Lukas Donahue, next in line. He clutched his fists together tightly, not knowing what to do with his hands. He was long and lanky in build, like Cecilia. He also shared her light blue eyes, but instead of dark hair, beautiful blond curls sat atop his head.
He wore a look of determination. For a moment, Cecilia wondered if that was a mask. She looked on with bated breath as Luke managed his way over to the Sorting Hat and gingerly placed it atop his head.
The hat deliberated and mumbled to itself. It didn't have to think very hard, however, for it was only a moment later when its mouth-shaped rip spread widely and it yelled out, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Loud, obnoxious whoops came from the red-clad table as Luke scurried over with excitement. Cecilia clapped as loudly as she could, radiating pride and wearing a smile that spread from ear to ear. Lukas quickly squeezed himself in next to two familiar faces: a young girl with long red hair pinned back and a boy with a mop of messy brown hair and freckles spattered across his face.
"That's interesting, though," Dominique commented with a smile.
"Tell me about it. Looks like he'll be well acquainted with nearly half of your family. Hugo and Lily are close to his age, right? Wonder where they're sitting?" wondered Cecilia aloud, craning her neck.
"Ha, yeah, I think they're sitting next to him, actually."
"Oh." Cecilia smiled and sat back down comfortably in her seat. "Y'know, I just hope he'll fit in. I really didn't peg Luke for a Gryffindor. I guess the Sorting Hat works in mysterious ways."
"It's not as obvious for everyone," Dominique shrugged.
"Just wish I could know why," Cecilia mumbles, circling her finger around her spoon absentmindedly, making it dance in her cup of tea with magic.
"Well, you know what people will say," Dominique said quietly. "They won't believe their ears."
"Yeah, they'll assume." Cecilia sighed defeatedly.
"He's such a sweetie, Ceils, if only they knew, then I bet rumors wouldn't pop up." Dominique's voice softened, her dark eyes meeting Cecilia's light. She gripped Cecilia's arm supportively.
"They probably still would," Cecilia said dryly, face unreadable as she looked ahead, grasping her teacup tightly.
Dominique's face fell. "I'm sure he can handle it."
"I hope he can. He's just so young. He's been through so much already. It must have been so hard growing up without understanding why he didn't have a dad. Understanding why he was such an awful person, why he must not be like him."
Dominique didn't know what to say. She pondered around for the right words of comfort. She couldn't relate to Cecilia's situation, she grew up on the opposite side of the battle. The side that had emerged victorious. The side that had emerged without a lasting legacy of past mistakes and crimes against wizardkind.
"I know," Dominique said finally.
Cecilia could sense the tension and Dominique's uncertainty, so she flashed a smile. "Hey, don't worry, I'm fine. No need to get all heavy and intense." She reassured the Weasley girl, waving a hand.
Dominique looked relieved when she smiled back at Cecilia. "Alright," She squeezed Cecilia's hand just as the last first-year was called to be Sorted. The two Slytherin girls turned their gazes back on the stage and watched on with anticipation.
The last first-year girl squirmed in her seat with the Sorting Hat placed atop her head, fiddling with strands of her honey-colored hair, eyes shut tightly, ears keenly attuned, listening for the one word that would seal her fate.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
The emotion that the girl wore was one of relief and utter bliss. The Gryffindor table roared with applause, standing up, whistling and making a general racket. This time, the rest of the Houses cheered genuinely, unlike when Slytherin house would gain a new student.
On her way over to the proud table in red, the girl's eyes flickered over in a judgemental stare to where Cecilia and Dominique were seated.
"Yikes," Dominique snickered, making light-hearted fun out of the first-year's rather intense and condemning glare. "What was that for? What's stuck up her butt?"
Cecilia forced a nonchalant smile on her face that masked the dull pain that always lingered this time of year. "Yeah, I wonder why she did that," Cecilia lied.
It was a lie because Cecilia already knew exactly why she had looked so hateful. It was because that young girl knew what sort of people had been sorted into Slytherin house in the past. Her parents most likely gave her a stern warning before they kissed goodbye on the platform. "Goodbye, dear!" They most likely had said. "Remember, we love you no matter
house you get sorted into!" Most likely they had stopped once they had said that, and then had attempted to retract their steps. "Except for y'know,
one!"
Cecilia could tell by the look on that girl's face that she also had recognized the Donahue name when Lukas had been sorted. It was because she was scared of them, of their name.
How silly, thought Cecilia, to be scared of a name, especially when it belongs to a harmless young boy like Lukas.
But actually, it was pretty easy to be scared of a name. Even when it belonged to wide blue eyes, soft blond curls, and untrained fingers. It was especially easy when the name being shared was that of a murderous, torturous Death Eater.
Celia sighed and rested her chin on her hand. She was used to it by now. It was so unfair, for the Donahue children did not even really know their father, yet they were stuck paying prices for mistakes made before their time.
