House: Ravenclaw

Word Count: 1568

Category: Standard

Prompt(s): [Clothing] Black Velvet Cloak

Year: Head

Warning: Definitely diverges from Canon for reasons of comedy. Use of OCs, as of the time period it's set in. You'll have to read till the end to understand how it ties in with the more modern age of the Harry Potter Universe.

School: Ilvermorny

Theme: Crisis Era 1300 – 1692

Prompt (Main): [Colour] Burgundy

Prompt (Extras): N/A

Year: Year 3

Word Count: 1568

Info: According to google the Salem Witch Trials took place from June 1692 - May of 1693. Hence why I've still included that as a point within my storyline, because it started mid-year.

It was the black velvet cloak that had initially drawn her to him. Or, to be more specific, it was the mystery and intrigue the cloak brought with him when he'd first arrived in the small town of Salem that captured her attention. She was immediately intrigued by him and the aura he was surrounded by, though she didn't quite know why at first. In the beginning she couldn't really comprehend why she was so attracted to the man who was the subject of all the whispers and rumours that had spread around her quiet village. Rumours she'd never been one to take part in until now. Still, no matter the situation, Elanora was hooked from the first moment she'd laid eyes on him. From that moment on she couldn't help but be drawn to the man whose English accent sounded so very foreign to her ears.

It took a week of walking around in shadows for him to show his face. Elanora recalled that every single time he'd pushed his way through their bustling town center he would pull his cloak tighter around himself, as if he didn't want to be seen - didn't want to be noticed. It was decidedly odd that he would do so in a cloak of such expensive material. In a town full of the lower-class where people who couldn't afford something as luxurious as velvet; he stuck out like a sore thumb. It wasn't like he changed up the cloaks he wore either. He was never seen in a burgundy cloak of wool like the ones she would don on chillier days. No, instead it was always the same exact black velvet cloak. She could tell because of the tear in the bottom corner.

The intrigue was well worth pursuing, Elanora decided, as she was lucky enough to be the first to officially meet the town's new resident. Perseus Brimstone, a dapper young fellow with impeccable manners, who quickly took a liking to her as soon as they met.

Brimstone, her mind echoed for days after their meeting. Why couldn't she shake the feeling she'd heard that surname before? It wasn't until three days later when a witch was burnt at the stake that she realized why his name sounded so familiar to her. Lyra Brimstone disappeared into thin air that evening as the fire continued to grow higher and higher. She was magical, which meant that he had to be too.

He was a witch, she realized as she lay in bed that night. The realization hit her suddenly, like a flash of lightning in the sky. Brief, but vivid, leaving no chance of hallucination in its wake. She knew she was right. And yet, it wasn't a shocking revelation. In fact, it actually made his actions all the more understandable. It explained why he was so hesitant to tell her his full name, why he'd been so withdrawn from their community, and why he just wouldn't give up wearing his miserable velvet cloak. He wore it almost constantly, and it drove her insane.

Though she wasn't exactly one to talk. She always wore the same burgundy dress out into town, and if that wasn't enough, she would wear shoes of the same exact color. Burgundy was, admittedly, the only color of cloth she owned. So perhaps her reason for wearing the same clothes was more justified than his. But, despite her revelation, she wasn't pushed away by his magical abilities. It actually made him all the more interesting, to her at least. All the little things that made him not so normal, like how he heated up their tea without saying a word, things that made him less mundane. She'd been dealing with the mundane for her whole life, she could do with some change.

And that's how, as the months passed, the two became quick friends and, not so long after, lovers. It wasn't a shock to the people of Salem, however. Elanora was just as good-looking as Perseus. She had perfect porcelain skin and stunning blue eyes; her long, flowing platinum hair complemented her delicate appearance wondrously. The townsfolk all agreed that she fit with Perseus perfectly. Perseus, who had a widely untamable head of dark brown curls, whose tanned skin was dotted with thousands of freckles. They were opposites, but perhaps opposites did attract.

Which is why it was no surprise when the happy couple announced their engagement in the town square not even two months after Perseus had arrived. It was a warm summer day, barely any clouds looming overhead, and Elanora was positively beaming with delight. She gazed lovingly up at her soon-to-be husband, and he, in turn stood smiling happily down at her. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that the two were hopelessly in love. And in that moment the threat of witches being burnt alive was temporarily forgotten. After all, they had a wedding to plan.

In the weeks leading up to the couple's wedding, the town was more alive than Elanora had ever seen it. The crowds were just as dense, but everywhere she turned there was now someone reaching out to her, congratulating her and Perseus on their engagement. It was a lovely change for her, though she couldn't ignore the whispers and rumours that surrounded them too. While she was buying burgundy cloth to made herself a wedding gown she could overhear others talking about them. About how odd they were together.

About how while the two made such a wonderful couple, there were the small oddities that didn't add up. Like Perseus' English accent, which was definitely not from any of the colonies around Salem. Or the fact that he was taking her last name, instead of wishing her to take his. Though Elanora, always one for a quick retort, insisted he was merely ashamed of his last name, and wished to take hers as a way of leaving it behind. Which wasn't a complete farce - after all, he did desperately want to leave his last name behind. Just due to both of their safety, not his own embarrassment. After all, being a Brimstone in any country was dangerous. It would be better to leave that behind and adopt the surname of a Muggle.

The weeks sped by, the wedding quickly approaching, though there was now something new to be heard around town. Elanora and Perseus would be leaving Salem as soon as they were wed. Instead of living out the rest of their lives in America, they would be heading off to live in England - no doubt upon Perseus' request. The news evoked sadness, not only in the townsfolk, but in Elanora as well. This was where she'd grown up, where she'd built a community of friends and family all around her.

But, contrary to what her friends believed, it had actually been her who had suggested the idea of leaving for England. Perseus' family had a Manor in a county called Wiltshire, so there was no doubt they'd be taken care of. Besides, it was something new, something unknown. Elanora was more than fascinated with the unknown. And so, perhaps it shouldn't have come as a surprise. She'd always held a curious spirit, eager to investigate anything new and different. That's how she ended up with Perseus - how she'd been so willing to marry him and start a new life. Besides, they could both agree that America was growing to be a far too dangerous place to live.

And thus without many hiccups, the two finally stood in Salem's small church, standing side by side, anxiously waiting to speak their vows. Elanora was in a brilliant burgundy gown, one that trailed far back behind her. Perseus stood at her side, his hand clutching her own, looking dashing in his wedding attire - which just so happened to be a similar shade to her gown. He was wearing his black velvet cloak over his garb, much to Elanora's great amusement and even greater dismay. The Priest cleared his throat, stepping up onto his small podium and flattening out his robes. He opened his mouth, the next words he spoke beginning the ceremony that would change their lives forever.

"Do you, Elanora, wish to take Perseus as your husband?" came the Priest's quiet voice.

"I do," she replied with a bright smile, taking a moment to gaze affectionately up at Perseus as he tucked a strand of her platinum hair behind her ear.

"And do you, Perseus, wish to take Elanora as your bride?"

"I do," he replied, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

"And you are certain," began the Priest with a raised eyebrow, "that you wish to take her surname and, in turn, give up your own?"

"I'm certain," Perseus responded resolutely, stealing a small glance at the woman who would soon be his wife.

"Very well then," the old priest drawled slowly, leaving the two in silence for a few agonizing moments. This was it, this would be their new start, their new lives. Elanora couldn't wait, and she was positive that Perseus shared in her excitement.

"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," he finished, leaving the two to beam at each other for a few moments. This was a new name for him, and a new start for her. They couldn't have been happier.

"You may now kiss the bride."