A/N: It's my last day of summer vacation, so I thought I'd take a break from finishing my summer assignments to update this. Two short things: First, I know there a few errors here and there, but this is a chapter that I don't have the time to edit right now, and second, just be aware moving forward that I don't necessarily agree with all the things any of the characters do, even Hyacinth.
"She's just -I just -"
"Expected the blood purist not to be a blood purist towards you?" Hermione's eyebrows were raised.
Hyacinth looked down, ashamed to be complaining about Drisana's prejudice when Hermione had always gotten the very worst of it.
The Gryffindor softened. "Hey, Hya, it's alright, you've always defended me, it's alright for you to be upset. To be fair, she hasn't called me a you-know-what since the start of last year anyway. At least, not to my face. Maybe she's getting better."
"Well if you'd like to be friends with her, then by all means, take my place."
"You don't mean that. You wouldn't be so mad if you didn't love her. It's the same reason you didn't leave the infirmary when I was petrified, and the same reason you don't care when Parkinson says the same thing. You love her, but you don't love her, not like you love me, and not like you love Malfoy."
"That doesn't make it okay," persisted Hyacinth.
"No, but it was never okay. You're just not used to her directing it at you."
They sat in silence, finishing their Transfiguration notes, as Hyacinth sorted her thoughts and her feelings.
"And," added Hermione when they had almost finished, "I won't say I'm above feeling smug at the way she looked when you walked away with me, but still. This isn't too far from her boggart, you know."
"I know. I've been thinking about that."
"Listen. I don't care what she says about me anymore, but it's different when you're friends. It's alright for you to be mad for a while, but just . . . don't shut her out for too long. She needs you in more ways than one."
"When did you become so wise, 'Mione?"
Her lips twitched. "Many moons ago, flower."
. . .
The party actually went pretty well. Tracey and Blaise came, as well as Ginny and a few of the older-year Slytherins, and there were plenty of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in addition to the torrent of Gryffindors. Somebody had brought a stereo and everyone from third year and up was dancing and singing and complaining about the start of term and Merlin did you hear about the semester project Sprout's assigning isn't she supposed to be the bloody nice one.
"She's very nice," retorted a sixth-year Hufflepuff, "Doesn't mean you don't have to earn your grades."
There was the vague sound of "Bloody Hufflepuff."
. . .
"Granger's right," agreed Theo a few days later. They were taking advantage of one of the few warm days left, the two of them sitting by the edge of the Great Lake before they would have to back into the castle for advanced potions. "It does feel a bit hypocritical of you. I realize you've never supported Drisana's views, but you've also never given her a shoulder quite this cold over it before."
Hyacinth bit her lip, frustrated with herself.
"You know she's right, and so am I," continued the blue-eyed boy after a moment. "You care more because it's never been aimed at you before."
"Yes it has," she protested, "Don't tell me you haven't heard those little backhanded jabs Pansy gives Tracey and I."
"Well, yes. But first of all, Pansy has something cruel to say about almost everyone, even those she loves, and in her own petty way she does love both of you; secondly, she doesn't resent either of you for being half-bloods, Tracey's a bleeding heart and -in her eyes- you both are blood traitors, not to mention you're famous for something you can't even remember. Thirdly, you've never had it aimed at you by Drisana before, and that's the difference."
He had her there.
"So, what? I'm supposed to just gloss over it and pretend like it's all okay?"
Theo shrugged. "Do whatever you'd like, Hya. If your feelings are hurt then that's between you and her. Actually, it's all between you and her, but you seem to be flailing."
"I'm just -how can she -we've been friends for years, Theo, and I thought -I just thought -"
"You thought muggleborns were one thing but at least maybe she'd gotten over the blood traitor thing? Or the half-blood thing? We both know those prejudices have always been there. If you want the truth, those prejudices are also harbored by Lucius and Narcissa, although they are far better at hiding them in front of the darling Girl Who Lived, Slytherin's shining star of an example that we're not evil."
She couldn't help it now; hot tears were starting to slip out from behind her eyelids.
"Hyacinth," Theo said gently, pulling her in, to lean on him. Luckily, there weren't many people that had a free period this hour, so no one caught her crying indecently like this.
After a long moment, she pulled away. Her tears had soaked into Theo's white button-down, but he simply cleared them with a drying spell with barely a flick of his wand.
"I know all of those things," she said in a voice that sounded nearly numb, "I just." She took a deep breath, then let it out. "Can I tell you a secret? Very few people know this."
"Always," affirmed Theo.
"The Hat offered me Hufflepuff. Told me I had a dichotomy." She laughed dryly, her voice hoarse. "Here's a riddle: if someone is an even fusion between ambition and justice, do you put them in the House of the ambitious or the House of the just?"
"I'm not exactly in the House of the wise or anything, but I'd say it's up to them. We choose our own paths more often than we think."
She nodded, slowly. "Well done. I think the raggedy old thing was leaning towards Hufflepuff, truth be told. Until I had a thought. The thought was that if I were aware of a prejudice, I ought to fight it. And the best way to fight a preexisting structure like prejudice is from the inside out. At least, I thought so at the time. It remains to be seen if that's actually true or if I've just entrenched myself in something far bigger than myself. Anyway, the Hat basically said 'Unlikely, but do what you want to do,' and sent me on my merry way. Even now, I still wonder if that was the right choice. Or if I'd ultimately be better off down by the kitchens. You know they get sunlight down there? It seems like a better condition under which to bloom."
They sat in silence for a minute or two.
"I think," responded Theo slowly, "That the fact that you even conceived the notion to take down an existing power structure from the inside out is so incredibly Slytherin that your Sorting was sealed the moment you thought about it. You could have chosen Hufflepuff, but you chose Slytherin just for the opportunity to try and achieve your goal. Your goal is very noble, of course, but that doesn't change the method you chose to achieve it. I think you have had an impact on Slytherin, moreso than you think. Do you think Tracey would've ever had the spine to go and befriend Granger, if not for you by her side? Tracey's lovely, and a good person, but she too is made of the self-preservation present in almost all Slytherins. She wouldn't have taken the risk if you weren't there to encourage her. And as hopeless as you might be thinking Drisana is, she's different. And you're responsible for that as well."
"And anyway," he added, as an afterthought, "We get the Great Lake, and there are flowers that bloom underwater."
She smiled then, something small but genuine. "Yeah. Who could stand all that yellow, anyway?"
. . .
Hyacinth deliberated for a week more. Hermione and Theo had the kindness, or maybe just the patience, to say nothing further of it, although Blaise did ask her what Drisana did wrong.
"It doesn't matter," she answered, shrugging. Blaise looked at her doubtfully, but dropped it.
Finally, she set a spell to wake her up before Drisana did (usually an impossible feat) and waited with her bed curtains open.
When Drisana rose, she went straight for the bathroom, not realizing in her grogginess that Hyacinth was up already. When she came out, she was running a comb through wet hair and she was fully dressed.
She saw Hyacinth and stopped in her tracks.
"Good morning."
Drisana returned the greeting, gray eyes clouded with uncertainty.
Hyacinth stood, revealing that she too was already dressed. "How about a sunrise?"
They walked in silence, Hyacinth waiting to speak perhaps for the dramatic effect, and Drisana too afraid and unsure.
They got to the top of the Astronomy Tower just in time, the faint hints of orange were just starting to slip into the sky.
Hyacinth took a deep breath in and released. "I'm not mad anymore."
"Finally," said Drisana, gaining back some of her arrogance.
"That is not to say that I am apologizing."
Drisana looked at the floor. "I know, but neither am I. You know I didn't mean it that way, you know I don't think about you like that, no matter what your blood status is."
Did she? No. Theo had been right -it was more likely than not that Narcissa and Lucius considered her nothing more than a pawn -a pretty little Slytherin showpony they could trot out to prove to the magical world that they weren't blood purists, or at least weren't adherents to Voldemort's ravings anymore.
But smart Slytherins knew when to stop pushing. "Sure. Anyways, I'm not mad about it anymore, but don't ever say something like that to me again."
Drisana just nodded, and took her hand.
. . .
"Thank Merlin," breathed Blaise when the two of them walked into breakfast, arm in arm.
. . .
"Wonderful news, Narcissa dear," declared Lucius Malfoy. His wife was at the window of the study, staring out into the garden. "Hyacinth has reclaimed Drisana."
Narcissa pursed her cherry lips, eyes unwavering. "Yes. See to it that such a rift does not open again. The last thing our daughter needs is to give the world any more of a reason to despise her than our legacy already has." The words were spoken bitterly.
"Cissa, you know if I could change the past -"
"You cannot. And now she must live with the consequences."
There was a moment of cold silence. "And if he should return?"
She spun, sharply, her silken hair whirling behind her. "There is nothing I would not do for my daughter, Lucius."
"Nor I, but we must prepare for the circumstance -"
"We already have."
"What, teaching the children Dark magic? A few malicious spells and potions? You imagine these will hold against him? Or do you expect them to join his ranks?"
"Do not mistake me, Lucius."
. . .
So, autumn gave way to winter with the subtlety of nature, until one day the snow was coming down and they were making preparations for Christmas.
"What are you getting everyone, Hyacinth?" Theo asked one night in the common room.
"I'm not ruining the surprise," she denied him with a smirk.
"I hope it's a puppy."
"And where would you keep this puppy?"
"In your dorms."
Pansy wrinkled her nose at this. "Absolutely not. Filthy animals, slobbering everywhere."
"Yes," countered Theo, "but loyal."
"What are we, Hufflepuffs?"
. . .
Christmas passed with the typical gift exchange. No one worth mentioning received any puppies, and the eve of the new year found the usual crew at Malfoy Manor.
The ball was held again, and Hyacinth found herself being pulled into the library by Drisana, who slammed the door behind them.
"What's wrong?" questioned Hyacinth. This behavior was abnormal.
"I don't know. The air started feeling really tight, and I just couldn't stand to be surrounded by so many people anymore."
"Okay. Just breathe."
Drisana nodded. She was leaning against one of the antique desks, and her knuckles were turning white, starkly contrasting with her emerald green acrylic nails, courtesy of a girls' trips Narcissa had taken all the girls on several hours prior.
The only sound was the deep, slow breathing of the blonde girl. Finally she turned around. Hyacinth wasn't sure how many minutes had passed by then.
"I feel better now."
"Do you want to go back out?"
Drisana twisted the silver skirt of her dress. "Not really."
"How long do you think we can stay here before they notice we're gone?"
"Maybe five more minutes."
"Five more minutes, then."
Drisana nodded, looking down at the wood floor.
After many more deep breaths, Hyacinth took her by the hand and led her back to the party, keeping to the outskirts, giggling together at the way Pansy was vying for Blaise's attention.
. . .
When Sirius Black broke into the castle, Hyacinth ended up in a sleeping bag in the Great Hall, fitted between Drisana and Tracey.
"I don't think he came to kill you, Hya," confessed Drisana in a hushed voice. "Mother is his cousin, and she said with the way he was attached to your father's hip in school, she can't believe he'd ever do what they say he did. She says she never even heard anything about him coming to their side."
"But then what is he doing here?" Hyacinth hissed.
Tracey's dark blue eyes looked concerned. "Well, it's obvious he's after you, one way or the other. Plus, how could the Ministry send an innocent man to Azkaban for twelve years?"
"The Ministry was scared and wanted more people to lock up to make the public feel safer," bit Drisana, "In those days, they probably would've locked up Merlin himself and thrown away the key if he so much as sneezed in the wrong direction."
. . .
Unfortunately, the students were forbidden from Hogsmeade after that, and Hyacinth hadn't made it to the first two trips, being tied up with Potions.
The bright side to that was that she was the best Potions student in her year, managing to best even Hermione. The Gryffindor girl simply pursed her lips at that and side-eyed her good-naturedly. She was, after all, still the best in every other class. She would concede just this once.
"Only for you, the best of friends," she said with a soft smile.
Incidentally, it was around this time that a certain Weasley twin began to make his affections known for the bookworm.
"Come on, Hermione, won't you go out with me?"
"First of all, even if I did say yes, where would we even go? Hogsmeade is forbidden until Sirius Black is caught."
The redhead grinned. "I have my ways."
"If you think I'm going to take part in your complete disregard for the rules which are only in place for our safety, you have got another thing coming Fred Weasley!"
Fred shot a mischievous wink towards Hyacinth, who was watching the scene unfold with mirth. "So,once Black is caught, then?"
Hermione glared at him.
. . .
"So, would you, then? If we could go to Hogsmeade?"
Hermione cut a glance at her. The boy had scampered off, no doubt to torment a clueless first year, and it was just the two of them in the library.
"Would you?"
Hyacinth wrinkled her nose. "He's a good friend, but I don't think I could get past the red hair."
Hermione laughed. "Didn't your mother have red hair? And so does Ginny."
"Yes, but my mother's was more of a dark red, and Ginny's is deeper as well. The twins are orange. Think of the children."
"I'll not be thinking of any children any time soon, thank you very much, and in case you haven't noticed, my children will more than likely be brunette." She pointed to her dark curls.
"Maybe, but considering the fact that they popped out seven children, and all of them are gingers, I wouldn't risk it. And you didn't answer the question."
She shrugged. "Maybe next year. There's time."
"Personally," said Tracey, who had approached unnoticed and now threw her bag on the desk with a flourish, "I think that as far as Gryffindors go, he's not so bad, but why stick with Gryffindors?"
"Would you date outside of Slytherin?" asked the Gryffindor.
"Please. I wouldn't be caught dead dating within Slytherin."
"And you, Hya?"
She shrugged. "I mean, it's probably more interesting to get to know someone from a different House. I already know everyone in Slytherin."
"But is there anyone in Slytherin you would date, if you had the chance?" asked the Gryffindor. Tracey looked at her with curiosity.
"Athena for sure," she answered immediately.
"What?" Hermione was flabbergasted.
"No, no, I see it," agreed Tracey. "There's something about all the skill and raw energy."
"Exactly. It's not like I have a crush, but come on, 'Mione, anyone would date Athena Rosier if they had the chance."
"Eh. I mean, I kind of see that. Still, that's not who i was expecting."
"Who were you expecting?"
. . .
It was mid-May when Hyacinth woke to the feeling of Venus kneading on her chest.
"What in Merlin's name?"
The cat looked at her with glowing green eyes, kneaded on her once more for good measure, and then leapt to the door, watching her still.
Knowing how to take a hint from a magical cat, she slipped her shoes on and followed, pulling on her invisibility cloak as she went.
Venus led her through the halls until she caught sight of a rat, which she then began to tail at speed, forcing Hyacinth to run to keep up. They ended up all the way outside, heading towards the Whomping Willow.
"This cat will be the death of me," muttered Hyacinth, who was starting to contemplate the risks of following a magical cat in the middle of the night. The rat ran through a hole in the base of the tree, and Venus tapped a knot in the wood before following. At once, the branches halted their movement, and Hyacinth ran after them, squeezing through the hole as well.
She came down into a passageway, and Venus was running after the rat about twenty feet ahead of her.
They came out into a room, where, much to her surprise, Professor Lupin and a man who closely resembled the pictures of Sirius Black she had seen in the papers were already present.
They looked at her in surprise.
"Hyacinth, what are you doing here? You must get back to the castle at once," said Lupin.
"Uh, sure thing, but what exactly is going on here?"
Just then, the rat that Venus had trapped between her paws grew, and grew, and grew, until a grown man stood before them.
He was ugly.
"Um." Hyacinth was quite interested in the explanation of this situation.
"She looks just like James," said Sirius Black quietly, and then shook his head, pulling out a wand and directing it at the rat-man.
"Peter! You traitor! How dare you show your face!"
"Sirius, you have to understand, there was no choice -"
"There is always a choice!" Black had a dangerous look in his eyes. "There is always a choice and you made yours!"
"Please, it's what James would have done, or you, or you, Remus -"
"James would have died rather than betray his friends, even you, you coward!" snarled Black. _
Hyacinth was debating on whether it would be worth risking the wrath of an escaped convict to figure out what any of this meant.
"Hyacinth, please," Lupin pleaded, "You must get back to the castle -"
"I will take care of that."
Hyacinth wasn't sure if this situation was made more or less weird by Severus Snape showing up.
"Oh, you'll do no such thing, Snivellus, if you think I trust you to take care of my goddaughter you've got another thing coming -" ranted Black.
"I think you will find, Black, that I have managed to keep her alive for this long, no thanks to you."
"Goddaughter?" Hyacinth had indeed been caught by surprise.
"There was nothing I could do from Azkaban, but I'm out now, and she won't be needing some greasy Slytherin."
"Sirius," warned Remus.
"Greasy Slytherin?" This night was a rollercoaster, and while everyone was talking about her, they also were ignoring her.
"Oh? And what House, pray tell, do you imagine your goddaughter was placed in?"
He scoffed. "Gryffindor, obviously."
"Wow, they really must not get a whole lot of news in wizard prison," she muttered to herself.
Snape smirked, triumphant. "You are incorrect. Hyacinth Potter is, as you so eloquently put it, a 'greasy Slytherin.'"
Black was aghast. "No!"
"Sirius, it's true," murmured Remus.
Sirius Black finally looked at her, really looked at her. She was in her pajamas, a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded orange t-shirt. She could forgive him the assumption of her House status, considering she wasn't wearing anything affiliative, but really, what was so bad about Slytherin?
The rat-man named Peter took this opportunity to turn back into a rat and scurry away.
"You -but Lily and James -"
"Sirius. Children are not their parents. You of all people ought to know that."
"But they were so good."
"And Slytherin is evil?" snarked Snape.
"I mean," offered Hyacinth, "it never felt like it to me."
"No, of course not, you've never known anything else." He put his head in his hands. "Things would be different if it weren't for that godforsaken rat. I would've raised you, I should have."
Hyacinth had quite enjoyed being raised by Aunt Petunia, but it might be rude to say so.
Just then, Lupin began to twitch.
"Hyacinth, we must get back to the school at once," said the Potions Master, gently pushing her by the shoulder towards the passageway.
Before long, Lupin's body was convulsing, and Snape was all but dragging her through the passage.
They ran back to the school with a speed she hadn't known the man possessed. They slowed down once they were safely inside.
"Professor Lupin is a werewolf," said the Head of Slytherin as he escorted her back to the dorms.
"Oh." She wasn't sure how to handle that. He was, after all, a very nice man, who had apparently been close to her parents.
"Sirius Black is your godfather. He was falsely accused of murder, betrayal of your parents, and crossing to the Dark side. I know he was falsely accused because he was so insufferably passionate about Dumbledore and the Light that these allegations are impossible."
"But you don't know for sure," she pressed.
He side-eyed her. "I can almost guarantee it. Realistically, it would make far more sense for Peter Pettigrew to have framed him, especially considering the fact that Peter Pettigrew is supposed to be dead. And if Sirius Black had come to the Dark side, I can assure you I would have known about it."
Finally, they reached the dorms. "The man is obnoxious at best, and pigheaded at worst, but if you are looking for the truth about Sirius Black, he is a man in which you would be safe to place your trust. He had an unfailing adoration for your father."
"What about the things he said about you?"
Snape's mouth twisted. "He and I have never been friends."
"You weren't friends with my father either, though."
"No. But that is hardly your fault."
She was struck by the kindness of the Potions Master, the ways in which he undermined all the accusations lain at his feet by those outside of Slytherin. She had often wondered what it might be like to be in the charge of Professor Sprout, the sweet Herbology Professor, and at times even McGonagall, the fiercely protective Head of Gryffindor, but she decided now she was luckier and better off under the watch of Professor Snape, who would go to any lengths to keep his students out of trouble and out of the public's baseless hatred, and cared not if the rest of the world despised him.
"Oh, and Miss Potter, the next time your cat decides to wake you in the dead of night, you had bloody well better go back to sleep."
"Of course, Professor."
. . .
"You have grown to care for the child."
"Albus."
There was a twinkle in the old man's eye, but it was sad. "Why?"
"Haven't you?" demanded the Slytherin man.
"I care for all my students, Severus, but when you have seen so many of them die, you will try to avoid having favorites. And Hyacinth Potter is your favorite."
"I am not a favoritist."
"Everyone is. We can't help it, we're only human. You favor her, over even your own goddaughter."
"Yes, well, Hyacinth hasn't got two doting, filthy rich parents, and her godfather spent the majority of her life so far in prison. Drisana will manage just fine."
"So, what then? Are you trying to make the girl in your image? Is that why the Potions?"
"No. She could do far better things with her life than be anything like me, and if I have anything to do with it, she will be. But potioneering is a necessary skill for success."
"You know, Remus taught her to cast a Patronus. She learned it in one day."
"One -one day?"
Albus nodded. "I fear she is far more powerful than we may have thought, than even she knows. Lupin did not tell her this was a record speed, merely that the Patronus Charm was not something all witches and wizards can do."
"What is her Patronus?"
Dumbledore smiled here, and it was almost a grin. "A moose."
"A moose?"
"Yes. The animal of balance."
"Not so far from a stag."
"No. But you of all people must have noticed the contrast between Hyacinth and James."
It was true. She was very little like her father. She was more similar to Lily, but even that was not exact. She was more patient, and more subtle than either of her parents had been. Something distinctly Slytherin, distinctly Hyacinth Potter.
. . .
Sirius Black was not caught by the Ministry, and remained on the run. That did not stop him, of course, from writing to her about a week later.
Hyacinth,
Forgive me for not writing sooner. It's been difficult. I want you to know that I don't really care what House you're in, you're my goddaughter and I will always be here for you. It's a tragic injustice of fate that I was absent from your life for so long.
I am sure you will have many questions. You may ask me anything you wish to know about your parents, or me. I'm working on getting back home, and when I do, you are invited to come stay any time you wish, for however long you wish. For now, rely on Remus for anything you might need. He is one of the few trustworthy individuals in this world.
-Padfoot
She knew who it was from. Lupin had explained a few days earlier that he, Sirius, Peter, and her father had all been good friends at Hogwarts, and Sirius had been nicknamed Padfoot.
Truthfully, based on her first impression, she hadn't expected him to look past the Slytherin thing. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
Even Snape spoke positively about him.
. . .
"My cousin was always a rebellious boy," Narcissa confessed to her a few months later. It was about time for the annual summer gathering at Malfoy Manor, and this time they would finish off their stay with a trip to the Quidditch World Cup.
"Even before school, he was stubborn," she continued. It was just Narcissa and Hyacinth, they were in the library and Narcissa was telling her the story of Sirius Black as she plucked books from the shelves, adding each of them to one of four piles. "Aunt Walburga used to rage at him like a harpy, poor boy. He refused to be obedient. Quite like my sisters." Her voice went cold here. "Of course, Andy and Bella went in polar directions with their bullheadedness. Anyhow, Sirius was in the same year as me, and we were always close. When he was Sorted into Gryffindor, his mother was infuriated. Quickly, he became friends with a boy called James Potter. Two others, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, but Sirius and your father were thick as thieves from the day they met."
Hyacinth wanted to ask if Narcissa had known her father, or what she'd thought of him -what the deal was with Snape and her father, anyway, but thought it best not to break the steady, rhythmic flow of the woman's storytelling.
"It got worse from there, in Walburga's eyes. Of course, his little brother Regulus, was Sorted into Slytherin like the rest of us, further alienating Sirius as the black sheep of the Blacks."
Narcissa entered Hyacinth's field of vision, coming out from behind a bookshelf with an old leather tome in her slender hands. She made direct eye contact with Hyacinth.
"You are old enough now to be told certain realities. You will forgive me for the directness, but it is important that you are aware of the dangers that lie in this world. Hyacinth, the Dark Lord wanted you dead. To this day, I don't know why, but he was certain that you were not to live. Your parents took you and went into hiding. Hyacinth, do you know what a Fidelius charm is?"
"It keeps secrets, right?"
"Yes. Everyone believes Sirius was your parents' Secret-Keeper and he gave them away, but I don't believe it, and I doubt you do either after recent events involving a certain rat."
"Well, if Sirius Black murdered Peter Pettigrew, then why is Peter Pettigrew still alive? And if that's false, it would make sense that Sirius being a Death Eater is false too. Sirius doesn't seem like the type."
Narcissa spun sharply, her heels clacking on the wood as she stepped forward, until she was but a foot away from Hyacinth.
"Your conclusions about Sirius are correct, but do not assume that anyone is or isn't innocent based on what they seem like, do you understand? It would shock you, some of the people who willingly came to the Dark Lord, and the people who ended up fighting against him."
"I understand." This conversation was getting heavy.
Narcissa backed up, and let out a deep sigh. "It's complicated, dear. What people do in a war . . . they often act out of character. But Sirius didn't, Pettigrew did."
"Did you act out of character?"
She hadn't meant to ask. She gasped softly at herself even as the words slipped out of her mouth.
Ice blue met emerald green. Narcissa Malfoy had been grooming her as a Malfoy ally since she was eleven, and everyone knew it, but it didn't change the strange affection she held for the woman who had so integral into exposing her to wizard culture and tradition, into knowledge she could never access at Hogwarts, and even, at times, into fashion. She was a high society socialite, but she had also once been the wife of a Death Eater in a country at war with itself. She had also once lived under the ever-present eye of Voldemort.
And she had survived. That was far more interesting to Hyacinth than any ballgown Narcissa might find.
Hyacinth was expecting a hostile, cold, or short answer.
"That's hard to say. I have always been interested in Dark magic, most of the Blacks were, but . . . the horrors he inflicted were not to my taste. I did what was necessary to keep Lucius, and later Drisana, alive."
"He's not gone, is he? Not forever." It was a sneaking suspicion she'd had for a while, and this summer she'd been having the worst nightmares. She now understood why Daphne was unable to sleep in a room alone. Hyacinth herself had taken to knocking on Drisana's door without bothering to even try to sleep alone. Before that, she'd spent a few weeks with Hermione. The nightmares featured green light, Pettigrew, and a cold, high voice.
"Do not say such things to anyone else, especially Drisana." Her voice was now sharp.
"But it's true?"
"I don't know. But Hyacinth, if it comes down to it, you will not be given to the dogs. Now, this stack is for you, I want you to read them as soon as possible." With a shifted demeanor, the woman handed her a pile of five books. Three were about curses and hexes, another transfiguration, and another potions (like she needed to read anything else about potions).
. . .
Incidentally, Tracey, Athena, and Theo also received reading assignments.
"She's got me studying Herbology, primarily," Tracey murmured, fingers flipping through pages a few days later as they gathered in Hyacinth's room. "A bit of ancient runes, a bit of curses, but mostly plants."
"Potions," Athena said. Theo and Hyacinth snorted.
"Curses and hexes," Hyacinth offered.
"Mine's a split between Charms and Magical Creatures."
"You know what she's doing, right?" checked Athena.
"If you're referring to her training the four of us in different magical fields to create a well-rounded team of young, elite sorcerers in the event of another war, then yes," answered Theo.
"Another war?" asked Tracey, deep blue eyes flickering.
"One way or another, it's coming," confirmed Athena. "For one thing, most of the humanoid and/or sentient magical creatures in this country are miserable, because we treat them like second-class citizens. For another, there's plenty of Dark witches and wizards left over from the last war itching to take their revenge on the Ministry and even Dumbledore himself. There's also the Muggleborn riots."
"There have been Muggleborn riots?" Hyacinth asked in confusion and slight fear. Riots meant aurors cracking down on the rioters, and Hermione was a Muggleborn inclined towards social change.
Theo waved a hand. "Just a few, not particularly organized as a movement yet, but the push is against the aforementioned leftover blood-purist Dark witches and wizards who are gaining more and more leverage in the Ministry, which has to do with the fact that most of them are from wealthy and well-known pureblood families."
"So it's a seesaw, then," concluded Tracey. Theo and Athena nodded.
"Well, one way or another, it's obvious Narcissa wants us to be ready for anything," Hyacinth murmured as she looked through the book of curses. "Athena, don't suppose you'd help me practice these?"
The Rosier girl nodded. "As long as you help me with Potions."
"Why isn't Drisana getting any of these assignments?" asked Tracey.
"She probably already knows most of this. There's a whole month or so every summer before we get here, and usually another after we leave. She's had lots of time to learn."
That sounded true enough, but you'd think learning so much magic, much of which crossed into the Dark Arts, would have a more visible effect on someone. But Drisana acted like she always did.
A/N: The dynamic between Hyacinth and Drisana is complicated, and it's something I wouldn't mind addressing in a longer author's note some day down the line, if anybody cares to hear my personal thoughts on it. Anyways, thanks for reading, and please leave a review. It really keeps me going.