𝗦𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗗𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 || 𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗘𝗿𝗮

ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵀⁱᵐᵉˢ | ᴱˡᵉᵃⁿᵒʳ

E: There's this kind of panic attack related thingy in the second half of the chapter, but it isn't meant to be deeply accurate, and it's kind of just there for a couple of lines...sorry if this offends anyone.

❝Girls, so heavy the crown
They carry it tallBut it's weighing me down.❞

Princesses Don't Cry - CARYS

✧★✧

"Of course! You're the one with that brother...the lame one, aren't you?"

Eleanor sighed, thinking back to the train ride and staring blankly at her feet. Perhaps she had overacted, going straight for her wand, but a surge of anger had simply just taken over. Invaded her thoughts, and blocked all common sense from her head so all she saw was red.

And then black. A defeated anger. A guilty anger. One that wasn't even aimed at Artemis Oakley.

It was Liam - it had always been Liam. Because while she loved her brother to the end of the world and back, it was Liam who had been holding her back. And now that she was, in some form, free from the life of being directly judged by her brother, here, he was still holding her back, even if he wasn't there in person.

It was just frustrating.

Maybe the sorting hat had sensed that when it looked in to her thoughts - maybe it had already made up its decision before it spoke to her.

"Ravenclaw or Slytherin?"

She'd thought about it genuinely. And then, with sadness and guilt curling in her stomach...

"I don't want to be defined by him anymore."

And the hat had understood what she meant. It had given a little chuckle, and she could imagine it smiling in her head, as it spoke its next words.

Words that confirmed her decision

Words that would stay with with her forever.

Words that she didn't think she'd ever be able to share.

And then the hat had sorted her into Slytherin, sending her off with those words ringing in her ears and an accepting smile on her face. And here she was now, walking side by side with Morgana Anderson, a blood traitor both to her family and society, Harley Foster, a girl with a mysterious history and a surname that Eleanor could've sworn she had heard before, and the one and only Artemis Oakley, pureblood and proud, yet walking with three girls anyone else like her would consider beneath them.

While Eleanor's earlier anger hadn't been directed straight at Artemis, she still hadn't appreciated the comment, and she would be lying if she said that she didn't resent the redhead's behaviour - not just on the Hogwarts Express, but through the whole day.

The brunette was jerked out of her thoughts, as the crowd came to a stop, pausing in front of what looked like a wall. A tall boy with blonde hair looked down upon them, sniffing slightly at Harley Foster's ruffled robes, and then moved to speak.

"I hope you've paid attention to the directions, because I'm certainly not showing you the way again. Students have gone missing in these dungeons before, we-"