Serpent On Fire | DRACO x OC | HERMIONE x OC

Candied Cherries

As the Hogwarts grounds started to look like a mosaic of red, orange, and yellow, gossip about the Ilvermorny twins slowed to a low rumble. People still looked, and students still whispered. Even in Hogsmeade, they'd catch the occasional elder witch or wizard giving them quizzical glances.

Io was busier than ever, easily roaming the halls in her cat Animagus form. After her midnight talk with Draco, he reluctantly became his odd-brand of friendly. It wasn't actually friendly - he managed to muster a weak head nod whenever Io walked by, and he almost always ignored Aster all together. Not that Aster minded. Pale, sickly, and sad wasn't her type - friend, lover, or otherwise.

Slug Club invites were slowly making their way into each dorm. Blaise and the Carrow twins received their invitations in green envelopes sent directly to the dungeons, but Aster and Io's came via Slughorn himself. He caught up with them just as they tried to sit down for dinner, much to their dismay. It was roast night, and Slughorn seemed to be incapable of small talk. Knowing Harry was sure to be there, Io decided to entertain the idea of going, but after realizing he scheduled his Quidditch practices conveniently on the same night, her attendance quickly dwindled down.

Aster, on the other hand, looked forward to it. Sure, it meant eating a little later than everyone else, but Slughorn always had good food brought over from the kitchen, things that the other students didn't get to try. One night it was a beautiful Toulouse-style cassoulet, a French dish that reminded her of Uncle Altair because it was his favorite dinner to make especially after exams.

The food was the bulk of the excitement. Slughorn used these dinner parties to pick the brains of students who were either very connected or very talented.

"Ms. Visage, how regrettable your sister is unable to attend. I very much would've liked to ask both of you about your Uncle's work. His book on the different uses of the Stinging Hex was absolutely fascinating." He would droll on. "If he makes the time to visit, please send me an owl, so we can share a fire whiskey at the Three Broomsticks."

Aster didn't mind boasting about her uncle's conquests. He really made a name for himself, and was quite well-liked among the students. During their first year, many of the teachers debated on being kind to them just because of him, but he made sure to put the word out not to play favorites. Not that it really mattered - Io was always quiet and intimidating (as others put it), and Aster made a web of friends within Wampus house.

They hadn't been aware they'd become the human embodiments of Yin and Yang - Io being the darker force to fear. She was poetic but soft and romantic. The softness of her stature balanced out the icy glare of her gray eyes. Aster was the light, playful and social. She didn't have time to read romance novels, but instead spent her days tracking constellations and her nights shooting off fireworks in the common room. Unlike Io's gray, Aster's eyes were a honey shade of hazel. She smiled more, laughed more, and she made an effort to play more. She flirted with anyone who was worth her time, but scarcely gave her entire self to anyone.

That being said, it made Slughorn's parties easier to bear. She played the part, happily retold stories of Uncle Altair's discoveries with a smile, and let the Potions Master greedily take it all in.

Of course, there was a side perk.

On one side, just to her right, sat Blaise Zabini. Aster never thought anything more of him than a fellow Slytherin and one of Draco's friends. But as their DADA duels became more frequent, Aster became comfortable with him. He didn't really show emotion often, but he was always willing to help around the common room. Aster witnessed him directing a handful of first years towards the Quidditch pitch, even wishing them luck before try-outs. Whether she liked it or not, she considered him... maybe a friend. There were even moments when he'd lend her a handkerchief because of a spilled drop of ice cream.