Chapter 7

Bellatrix moved with an unhurried grace, her steps light but purposeful. The flowing emerald robes she wore seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light, giving her an almost ethereal quality. There was no mistaking her presence—even in the subdued ambiance of the Slytherin common room, she radiated a quiet authority that seemed to command the very air around her.

"You're up early," Bellatrix observed, her voice low and smooth, carrying a subtle note of curiosity. Her dark eyes flicked to the room, scanning it with a habitual wariness, then settled on Andromeda, her expression inscrutable. Despite the softer edges to her appearance this morning, there was still a sharpness to her gaze—a constant vigilance that never seemed to waver.

Andromeda shrugged, offering her sister a faint smile. "I couldn't sleep." She gestured toward the couch near the fire. "I thought I might read for a bit."

Bellatrix's lips curved into a small, knowing smirk. "Up and about before the others. That's not like you, Dromeda." She settled onto the armrest of the nearest chair, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp as they flicked over Andromeda's book bag.

"There's a first time for everything," Andromeda replied, her voice light but tinged with a hint of exasperation. She crossed her arms, leaning against the back of the couch. Her gaze drifted to the far end of the room, where a figure sat, hunched over a desk.

Thaddeus. The mysterious transfer student whose arrival at Hogwarts had caused more than a few murmurs in Slytherin House. Andromeda had been introduced to him just the day before—Elysia had made a point of it—but even that brief meeting had left more questions than answers. He had appeared at the start of term—a cousin of Elysia's, if rumours were to be believed—but his existence had been a well-kept secret. No balls, no banquets, no family gatherings had ever hinted at his presence.

For Andromeda, though, Thaddeus was still an enigma. As Elysia's best friend, she had heard her fair share of musings and theories about her mysterious cousin—the boy with a penchant for pranks and an adventurous streak that rivalled even Elysia's own. Still, there was an air of mystery about him that neither Elysia's anecdotes nor his quiet demeanour at school could entirely dispel.

Bellatrix's eyes followed Andromeda's gaze, her brow arching slightly. "Him again," she remarked, her tone unreadable. "What do you make of him?"

Andromeda hesitated. "I don't know. He keeps to himself. Seems… focused."

Bellatrix tilted her head, considering him for a moment. "Focused, yes. And unreadable. It's almost as if he's playing a role."

"A role?" Andromeda repeated, glancing at her sister. "What do you mean?"

Bellatrix's smirk returned, but there was no warmth in it. "People like him always have a purpose. They don't just appear out of nowhere without reason. And they certainly don't escape the notice of our family unless they've been hiding. I don't trust him."

Andromeda frowned, her curiosity deepening. Thaddeus hadn't looked up once, seemingly oblivious to their conversation, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that he was aware of their every word.

"He's… different," Andromeda admitted, choosing her words carefully. "But that doesn't make him untrustworthy."

"Perhaps not," Bellatrix allowed, rising gracefully from her perch. "But caution never hurt anyone, Dromeda. Just remember that."

With that, she disappeared up the stairs, leaving Andromeda alone with her thoughts and the soft, steady rhythm of Thaddeus's work in the background. For a moment, she considered joining him—perhaps asking about his research—but something held her back. Instead, she settled into the couch, pulling a book from her bag and trying to focus on the words before her.

But no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept straying back to her sister's warning and the quiet, unassuming figure at the far end of the room.

The sound of footsteps broke her reverie. Andromeda glanced toward the entrance just in time to see Elysia enter the room, her steps composed and measured. Her golden-brown hair was pulled into a loose braid, and her vibrant green eyes held a spark of their usual mischievousness, though her expression was more subdued—a polite mask firmly in place. Only the faintest hint of warmth in her gaze hinted at her true feelings.

"Good morning, Dromeda," Elysia greeted smoothly, making her way over. She settled onto the couch beside Andromeda with a graceful ease. "You're up early."

Andromeda smiled faintly, setting her book aside. "Couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?"

Elysia's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "Breakfast, of course. And to check on my favourite best friend." Her voice was light but sincere, and her mask softened just a fraction as she nudged Andromeda gently. "What are you reading?"

Andromeda held up the cover but didn't respond immediately. Elysia's gaze flicked past her to where Thaddeus was still absorbed in his work.

"Ah, Thaddeus," Elysia remarked, her tone calm but tinged with a trace of affection. "Always so dedicated. I trust he hasn't caused any trouble?"

Andromeda shook her head. "He's been quiet. Focused."

Elysia chuckled softly. "He has his moments. Give him time—he's not as mysterious as he likes to appear." She turned back to Andromeda, her eyes sparkling with a trace of mischief. "Come on, let's get breakfast. You'll need energy if you're planning to keep up with me today."

Andromeda hesitated, glancing once more at Thaddeus. Elysia followed her gaze and smirked knowingly. "Don't worry about him. I'll drag him out of his shell soon enough."

Reluctantly, Andromeda allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Together, they left the common room, Elysia's composed demeanour slipping just enough to reveal the warmth she reserved for her closest friend. As they walked, Andromeda found herself grateful for the steadiness of Elysia's presence, even as her thoughts lingered on her friend's words and the enigmatic figure they left behind.