Rules (Mauraders Era)

Chapter II

According to the hallway gossip, James Potter was released from the medwing after a night's rest and let loose into the halls of Hogwarts once again. Did Evelyn Mallory ever worry that he was going to tell his head of house what happened? Was she worried that her prefect badge might be revoked? Absolutely not. One fact you will learn about Evelyn during the events of this story was that she had the astonishing ability to always remain calm. She was a good woman to have in a crisis, a detail you should remember as the reader.

She trekked through the 3rd floor halls, her hand placed sturdily on the strap of her beaten bag. Students shoved and pushed their way past her, the sea of teenagers flooding out of their classes, but the crowd stopped when a shrill shriek tore through the air. "No, no, no!" She heard the familiar voice, advancing the speed of her walk until she encountered her sister leaning over the bannister just above the magically moving staircases. The blonde-headed girl's hands shook as she ran them nervously through her hair, balancing on her tiptoes to look to the tumbling floors below.

Evelyn gingerly picked up Elle's forgotten book bag, shaking her head disappointedly at the smashed bottles of ink on the stone floor. "How many times have I told you to be careful in the halls, Elle? Ink isn't cheap, you know." The 4th year jumped in suprise, turning around in shock, and scanned the hallway with a worried glance. "Where-where did you come from?" "I heard you all the way down the hall," Evelyn raised her eyebrows at Elle, handing her the bag in her outstretched hand. "You scream like a banshee, Mallory."

Elle sighed helplessly, taking the bag hesitantly from her sister's hand, and cast a guilty look back at the stairs. "I-I dropped the sheet music for my solo in the frog choir when I tripped and it flew down the stairs and now it's-" The blonde shoved her head in her hands, her figure slouching forward meekly. "Everything's just been going wrong this week. It's like I can't do anything without...messing up." Evelyn scanned her sister with an unemotional expression, but the guilt weighed down inside her.

She reached for Elle, extending an uncomfortable arm, but the girl stopped her. She looked back up to see her sister's attempt of comfort, as a sad expression crossed her face, and she took a few steps back. "I should get going, anyways. I'm already late to my next class." "Elle-" The blonde retreated back into the student-filled hall, casting one last somber look over her shoulder, before her yellow robes disappeared from sight. And so, the young songbird left her sister standing alone in a puddle of black ink, pooling pitifully at her very feet.

By now, Evelyn was infuriated. She was frustrated how upset her sister was at her, she was enraged by the actions of James Potter (who clearly caused this whole mess), and guilty of her failure to comfort her own family, a guilt she would never acknowledge. She sat in the dimly lit Slytherin common room, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment with a long quill. Scratch, scratch. A pile of crumbled pieces of parchment lay on the side of the dark desk, all of which had been pierced by the rage-consumed speed Evelyn was writing with.

The common room was filled with only a few students, some who read, some who played chess, and some who watched the frustrated girl at the desk. Among the latter was Severus Snape, who examined Evelyn with his beady black eyes. Do you remember when I said that Evelyn Mallory would not converse with Snape for the last time in that small Transfiguration class?

He approached the girl warily, stopping occasionally after a few steps in a bit of hesitation. Once he was only a few inches from the back of her chair, the girl spoke. "What do you want?" She muttered coldly, not raising her eyes from her eloquent essay on the polyjuice potion. "Revenge." Her quill stopped, for just a few moments, but she still did not look at the greasy-haired boy. "You have thirty seconds before I walk out of this room." Almost on cue, her writing utensil moved once again, and Severus Snape spoke quickly.