𝕾𝖑𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖇𝖊 𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖔

Ferret boy

The next day, even though the previous night had been a blast, I found that I couldn't get out of bed. It wasn't really a big deal, since it was Saturday, but I still felt like crap for not saying good morning to anyone.

Besides the mild hangover and the buzz of conversation I'd heard from the common room downstairs, my bed seemed like the only place in the world where I wouldn't be hounded. By Severus and Malfoy. Even by Cedric, who I supposed would want to talk to me about it.

Instead, I closed the curtains on my four-poster bed and wrote a spindly letter to Sirius, pausing every so often to sit and think. Thinking about the awful things my father had said about me the previous night. Thinking about the Slytherins, who were undoubtedly counting on me. Thinking about Malfoy, who I'd inadvertently forced to continue on the closet by himself. I'd have to help him, perhaps sneak out of the common room at night when no-one was watching me.

And so I wrote to the one person who I knew would accept me for who I was - fully. I wasn't the death eater who was soulless and evil and cruel. I wasn't the kind, naive Slytherin girl either. Only he knew the tightrope I walked day and night.

Dad,

So, you've probably heard in the Daily Prophet that I got chosen to be a champion for the Triwizard tournament last night. I'm excited- of course, I think.

Severus is mad at me- called me horrible things last night for being chosen. I'm not sure if he's sent you a letter or not, but he thinks I rigged the goblet because he couldn't believe I'd be chosen. I know what he said was a load of rubbish- that he didn't mean it, but I can't help thinking that it's true. I only put my name in to seem normal in front of my friends. But - is it possible?- that someone could have rigged it I mean?

Cedric (best friend) got chosen as well. He's super excited and won't understand why I'm sad about it. So, I've decided I'm going to avoid him - probably the best idea for me being a Slytherin and all.

If you have any advice, that would be great.

Love you, Morri.

PS. Missing Bethilda right now :(

Bethilda was the cat I used to have, by the way. A soft, old thing, bought for me when I was too young to know what to do with her. But- she never dissapointed. Was always there when I needed her, even hunted down castle rats for me- which surprisingly never bothered me at all. In fact, I'd just throw the poor dead things into the fire, and if they were still alive I'd brign them outside to let them free, all before vigorously washing my hands.

It took me about 2 hours of writing, then scratching out, throwing away notes to get the blasted letter right. But afterwards at least I felt like I could stretch my limbs out, gulp down a glass of water and get out of bed. After lunchtime, I managed to get dressed and put some makeup on, careful to cover up the bags under my eyes from lack of sleep. Then, I sat at a small desk in the dorm room, carefully sealing the letter with the Black family crest in green wax and a small sprig of lavender from a vase on my bedside table. Since it was Saturday, I'd have to climb all the way up to the owlery to post it, which warranted a thick coat, scarf and gloves. Perhaps the chilly walk would be good.

But as soon as I stepped into the common room I was bombarded by a small group of first years. They huddled around me as if I were a heater and they'd just gotten inside from a snowstorm. As if they'd been waiting there for me to get out of my dorm all morning. "Can you sign my book?" a small blonde girl held up a copy of magical drafts and potions.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" I adjusted a black beret on my head.

"Madelyn," the girl said. "Please?"

The boy next to her pushed in front. "Mine too?"