As a daughter to an already corrupt family, the only way to corrupt Cordelia was to turn her against the Blackwood family values ... and George Weasley was just the wizard for the job.
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[ 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐖𝐚𝐫 ]
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prologue the perfect daughter
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THE BLACKWOOD SISTERS could not have had a more strained relationship. They were poles apart in both age and morals, and their differing interests separated them to such an extent that they didn't feel like sisters at all. They were simply three strangers who shared a house, a sick father and a dead mother.
Goneril, the eldest, cared only for herself. She was headstrong and brash, with the will to do anything in her power to fight off those who stood in the way of her path to greatness. She was selfish and oftentimes ruthless and was obsessed with the growing illness her father suffered as it would lead to her gain of the family inheritance, and thus solidify her desires for power.
Like most middle children, Regan was the forgotten child. She strived to make a name for herself, her ambitious ways going almost unnoticed as she gained her formidable reputation with unnecessary cruelty. She was deceitful to all who knew her and her lack of conscience led her down an inescapable path of greed — one which would surely cause destruction wherever she tread.
Lastly, but by no means least, was conscientious Cordelia; the favourite. It was no secret that she was preferred by her father over her elder sisters, and that was potentially the cause of their resentment of her. She was a kind and thoughtful girl who was adored by her teachers at school and revered by her closest friends in Ravenclaw house. She ensured her father was cared for when she was unable to, tended to her mother's grave and made sure she remained the best version of herself that she could be. She had learnt to be quiet — and that silence was a virtue — and had discovered herself to be a daydreamer, fantasising during her lessons and school feasts about those she surrounded herself with and the things that made the stars inside them shine so vividly.
The courtyard of Hogwarts castle was often Cordelia's escape during breaks and free periods. Her best friends, Bunty and Lacey, usually accompanied her. On rare occasions, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet — the two Gryffindor girls in their year — would join them on the ledge of the water fountain. Cordelia tended to prefer being alone amongst the quiet buzz; it was never silent on the Hogwarts grounds, but it was the sort of low bustle Cordelia need not engage with, allowing her attention to drift elsewhere as she romanticised the moment in peace, occasionally with a sketchbook in hand.
The afternoon of her fifth day of her second year, however, was not one of those occasions.
'... and I really think you're all very wrong about this, don't you think, Delia?'
'Think about what?' Cordelia asked, closing her sketchbook shut in a forced calm for what felt like the seven-hundredth time that minute.
