𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝒀 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑴𝑬 ︱𝘊𝘌𝘋𝘙𝘐𝘊 𝘋𝘐𝘎𝘎𝘖𝘙𝘠

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑾𝑶

❝ Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop. ❞

― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince
word count: 1600

Sylvia's eyes opened wearily as they adjusted to the beams of morning sunshine pouring through the windows and into her shared room. She lay there still for a few silent moments, peacefully recounting her dreams in her head, before she stretched out her limbs and massaged her eyes.

She sat up on her bed and let her eyes wander to the other girls in their beds, still fast asleep and rather serene-looking, with the exception of Harriet, who must have made her way to the common room.

Sylvia placed her feet flat on the ground and pulled herself up. Her robes were neatly folded on top of the chest at the end of her bed, not at her own doing. Sylvia glanced in a mirror by the wall. Her hair was tangled, and her pajama pants were pushed up her legs. Her eyes were slightly puffy. At the sight of herself, she went through the rhythms of her routine and got ready for the school day ahead of her.

It was the beginning of November, and the air was getting colder, which Sylvia could feel. She found herself layering more under her robes and wearing two pairs of socks, which might prove to be a mistake later on, but she felt rather toasty against the chill that only the early mornings held.

She made her way down to the common room, where only a few students lingered sleepily. Her eyes fell on Harriet, who was sitting lazily on an armchair near the fire, reading what looked like the class schedules.

Sylvia sank into a chair nearest the lit fire and let her eyes rest upon the flickering flames. "Herbology," sighed Harriet, slamming the paper down on her lap, interrupting Sylvia's moment of peace, and making her face her friend.

"Herbology? It could be worse. Imagine having to listen to that mangy ghost drone on about the history of Hogwarts this early in the morning," Sylvia says as she fiddles with the end seams of her sleeve. Harriet exudes a small laugh and goes back to looking at the timetable.

A sudden realization jarred Sylvia from her peaceful respite, they shared this class with the Hufflepuffs, which meant Sylvia would have to face Diggory and his infuriatingly charming presence. She wanted to extinguish her complex feelings for the boy, but having him in her class only complicated matters. In honesty, her initial attraction to Cedric stemmed from his thoughtful observation and interaction with the world around him, a stark contrast to the Gryffindors she was accustomed to.

"I'm starving," Harriet declared, her voice echoing through the room as she sprang from her seat, dragging Sylvia along with her. Their bond was undeniable, which started in the early days of their Hogwarts years. Despite her occasional tendency to be overly critical of others, Sylvia cherished their friendship, often finding herself laughing along with Harriet's remarks, even when her conscience nudged her guiltily.

Harriet's short, dark blonde hair framed her face, her warm brown eyes possessing an ability to deceive with their welcoming charm. Her figure was short, and her complexion was painted with a dusting of light brown freckles.

Harriet dragged Sylvia to the great hall, and both took a seat at the Slytherin table. The table was bestowed with an arrangement of tempting breakfast foods, and both girls didn't hesitate to start filling their plates.

As Sylvia piled her plate with some toast and bacon, Harriet leaned into her ear and whispered, "Look, there's creep." Sylvia looked straight to where Harriet was looking and landed her eyes on the Hufflepuff table, where Cedric sat with around four other people. He was reading the daily prophet lazily and taking bites out of some jam toast, and he smiled occasionally at his friends' remarks.