Promise to the Past | 🐾 ᴍᴀʀᴀᴜᴅᴇʀs ✓

Golden Era 02 | A New Silver Era

-- SEPTEMBER

When Nova Aylin Black arrived at Hogwarts, she took the school by storm. 

If she was candid, she ended up with both her parents' qualities that horrified them. Sirius had hoped she'd carry on the Marauder tradition as James Potter had hoped for his own eldest. And while Nova did inherit his strategic, scheming tendencies, she had no desire to carry out random pranks. Hermione hoped she'd be a strong, independent force who lived her life unapologetically. And while Nova was precisely that, she also didn't share her mother's self-imposed stringent views on right versus wrong. Her world existed in greys and depended very strongly on those she cared about. 

So really, it was no surprise to her when she was sorted into Slytherin. 

She was the first in her year to be sorted, and she left a good chunk of the school who knew either her or her parents in complete shock. Sirius Black was an infamous Gryffindor. With her bleeding heart and passion for justice and righteousness, Hermione Black could be nothing but a Gryffindor. But Nova was honestly pleased. As much as she loved her family and their friends, she knew her natural affinity lay with the regal house of green.  

As she walked up towards the cheering Slytherin table, she beelined for the unique tuft of platinum hair, only to find an identical set of striking grey eyes glittering in amusement. Draco stood up to greet her, and she all but flew into his arms. 

He chuckled when he stumbled ever so briefly before steadying himself, returning her hug warmly. The rest of the table stared in awe. Draco Malfoy was not a hugger. He was aloof, disinterested, posh, and always poised. Despite her Slytherin qualities, Nova Black had maintained the warmth and affectionate nature of the family she was raised in. The majority of Slytherin, still composed mostly of old pureblood families, was too obsessed with decorum to be so public about their affections. Oh well, it would change now that Nova was there. 

"Should we be expecting a howler in the morning?" He asked her with mock seriousness. 

"Oooh, I hope so!" Nova laughed. "Wouldn't that be the most deliciously dramatic start to the year?" 

She could only imagine the abject comical horror on her father's face. Her mother would obviously try to assure her that she was still their daughter wherever she ended up, and they were proud of her. Nova and Draco both took their seats as the sorting continued, their voices dropping to hushed whispers. 

"Can I be the one to owl your parents? Good god, I wish I could see their reaction."  

"You just want an excuse to write my mother," she rolled her eyes. 

Draco, a quickly growing third-year, blushed like a child. "I want no such thing."

"Right, it's not like you've been mooning over her since I was a literal baby," Nova smirked. "You might be more attached to her than her own godchildren." 

"Your mum was the first person I remember being so open with me outside my own mother," Draco shrugged. "I might've been young, but I remember how hard it was for my mother those first few years. Hermione helped us." 

"She's quite fond of you too," Nova admitted reluctantly. "In fact, that's probably the excuse I'll use. I'm in Slytherin to keep an eye on you." 

Draco rolled his eyes, though internally, he felt a little relieved. His home life and school life felt like a sharp contrast that left him with whiplash every time he tried to transition between the two. Their families prioritized honesty and affection, making for a very involved and informal dynamic between him and all of his family and family friends. But Slytherin's house was everything his mother told him she was trying to unlearn. The stoicness. The constant facade. The air of superiority and entitlement. As his mother had wisely explained to him, none of those were actually traits valued by Slytherin House but rather an unfortunate convergence of pureblood culture within the house. He hadn't fully understood when she'd explained it, but he saw the nuance more and more with every passing year.