❝ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮? ❞
Maisie Evans Potter never considered herself The Chosen One, her brother had been more than grateful to fill out that...
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃 from the empty corridor heading towards the Hogwarts Great Hall. Their breaths hitched by the speed they were walking at, they didn't wish to cause a scene in the middle of Dinner. The train ride was enough to raise their suspicions of them, they didn't wish to meet their infelicitous deaths at the hands of sixteen-year-old assassins. Lord Voldemort, Maisie had met him and unknowingly insulted him. She was known for being critical, her brother never could form sentences without remarking on them. The opposite was to be known about her, she could spit sentences before she had analyzed what she had muttered. No wonder Dumbledore sent her with Draco as her supervision, did the greatest wizard alive believe she could save everyone she loved when she had just spat in the face of her brother's cause of ultimate death. She was more than proud of herself, Draco however could say otherwise.
"How could you have been such an arse Potter? You didn't even know it was him!" Draco reprimanded her for almost causing their downfall. He never liked running away from their problems, but Maisie hasn't given him the choice.
"Well, I'm sorry. I suppose I should recognize You-Know-Who with a nose."
She tripped over her feet several times by the speed they were making their way to get sorted. She wished to have fallen on her face, and headed to the east wing, before facing the embarrassment of getting sorted to their houses. First years who would nervously gain from their family's name on getting sorted. While, their name wasn't theirs to hold, only a facade. A facade that carried a reputation, blood at its purest, wizards yearn for it to flow in their veins. But with reputation comes rebuttal.
The doors of the Great Hall opened themselves, the voices died down. They felt the eyes of thousands of students on them, people knew who they were. All sorts of whispers floated around them, most of them thought they were decaying in their graves. What family did Dumbledore tie them with?
The Headmaster sent one of the teachers to gather them to the front of the Great Hall. The lady took out a scroll of the students to be sorted and scanned it squinting her eyes at the names, widening her eyes when she found their names. "The Fawleys. One of you shall take a seat to let the sorting begin. You both are utterly late." Maisie heard several laughs from the Gryffindor table when she turned to face them, their smiles faded from their faces.
Maisie had moved to take a seat on the stool when Draco put his hand in front of her to make his way to the stool first. She never would've called Draco a savior, but at the moment she wouldn't hesitate to say it. The lady put the hat on his head without needing to lower it from a few inches, it didn't halt in placing him in Slytherin. Scattered applause came from the houses.
It was her turn now, the lady motioned her hand for her to come along. She took a breath in before taking a seat on the stool shifting around trying to find comfort in her situation. She heard the hat in her head clearly as if they were her thoughts, Worthy you are. Hesitant you are not, you wish to prove yourself. Gryffindor is your best suit. You know this of course. It's all here, a yearning to make the world your own. Resourceful at most, you have no sense of self. But where to put you?
Her body was frozen in place, her legs had started to shutter in fear. Slytherin is my best suit. She thought trying to shift the hats thinking. Fool me you shall not. Say.. a Slytherin? "SLYTHERIN!" The hat shouted before she made her way to the Slytherin table taking her seat next to Draco.
Dinner passed by itself, Maisie couldn't bear to place her arms at the table. She looked absent-mindedly at the table watching others partake in their conversations. The house prefects were to lead them to their common rooms, she walked behind Draco when she noticed a girl her age walking behind the group. Maisie took notice of the weak, they attached themselves to her. She walked next to her side where the girl took notice of her. "Hello, I'm Maisie Fawley." She gives her hand a shake before she could even say her name. The girl wasn't afraid of her as that all the other Slytherins made a motive to walk ahead of her. She wasn't the only one the students at Hogwarts feared, the group of pre-mature deatheaters was a group the students considered deadly. Only by rumor, no one had ever dared lead to their exposure or for that purpose hold the memory.
"Alessandra." She took her hand away a bit taken aback by Maisie's sudden introduction. Maisie closed her eyes noticing her name, she bit back announcing her last name and forced a smile out of her wits. She continued to walk without another word walking next to Draco's side.
Black. The Sacred Twenty-Eight. The wicked woman who burnt her uncle's name from his family tree. The one who terrorized Grimmauld Place whenever a person she'd consider an intruder would dare step foot. How harmless she looks, what caused her upheaval?
They had reached their common room, and the whole introduction of the rules, and all the things Maisie knew she'd be breaking. The group of students scattered out when she made her way to the stairs to the girls' dormitory when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Edgar Lestrange.
He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulder when she faced him. "I apologize on the part of everyone. These boys can be so inhumane, they just had to see if the rumors were true." He gave her a smile that seemed pitied, It didn't dare crease his eyes. She figured all his smiles were like this.
"It's quite alright. If you may let m-" She turned to make way for the stairs when he cut her off.
"You are welcome to join us next Saturday at Hogsmeade. You and your brother. I do not want you to get the wrong idea." The idea had never crossed Maisie's head as going on a date with him. She had to hold the thought of vile coming up her throat, she could not deny his appearance was enticing. She only nodded at him and made her way to the stairs. If she hadn't thought of it twice, his intention would've passed her as pure. She knew who the deatheaters' were, now she needed to know what they do. What part do they play to be handled as puppets on strings to Tom's game?
They needed to make a plan, how were they going to take out the devil's apprentice.
