𝓖𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝓥𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚
⟠
Gunpowder, broomstick handle polish, and vanilla — a most seductive aroma wafted in the air as Edelyn walked into their first N.E.W.T. potions lesson the next day. She frowned as she perched herself onto the stool beside Hermione. For a moment, she thought she had stuffed her face into a box of toy explosives. The overpowering scent of sweet vanilla was oddly familiar too, but like a word at the tip of her tongue, she couldn't quite pinpoint why.
Professor Slughorn stood at the front of the classroom, his immense belly hidden behind two steaming cauldrons. As Edelyn breathed in the vapours, she felt a warm, bubbly sensation glowing in the pit of her stomach. The corners of her mouth curled into a grin.
"Now then, now then," Slughorn greeted. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits. And don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making."
Edelyn was digging her textbook out from her schoolbag when she heard the distinct sound of Ron's blundering footsteps.
"Sorry, Professor Slughorn!" Harry said as he and Ron stumbled in. "We didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T."
"Professor McGonagall informed us just now," Ron panted.
Sniggers broke from the Slytherin bench. Hermione stopped Edelyn from chucking a sloth brain.
"Ah, Harry m'boy!" Slughorn exclaimed, clapping his hands together excitedly. "Not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. We've got a small stock of old books in that cupboard in the corner over there. You can borrow a copy from there, and in any case, we'll be working in pairs for the majority of the term."
Harry and Ron quickly grabbed two copies and joined Edelyn and Hermione at their table.
"Lyn, you wash your hair this morning?"
Edelyn blinked at Harry and touched her hair self-consciously. "No...why?"
"Now that we're all settled—" They returned their attentions to Slughorn. "—, I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of things you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. I'm sure you have heard of them, even if you haven't made them yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"
He indicated the cauldron nearest to the table at which the Slytherins sat. Everyone raised themselves slightly in their seats to get a better look. Harry shrugged — it appeared nothing more than plain water boiling. A few of his peers, however, seemed to have seen something he couldn't, for their hands shot up in the air.
Slughorn pointed to Edelyn. "It's Veritserum," she answered, "it compels the drinker to tell the truth."
"Very good, very good!" Slughorn said happily. "And what about this one?" He pointed to a second cauldron from which rose spirals of steam. Standing once more from his seat, Harry could tell that the potion inside gleamed a mother-of-pearl sheen.
This time, it was Hermione's voice that rung confidently in the air. "It's Amortentia, sir," she answered. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world, and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us. For example, I can smell freshly mowed grass, new parchment and..."
Her voice trailed off.
Harry took a sniff and simultaneously smelt treacle tart, something woody like that of a broomstick handle, and the unmistakable scent of strawberries that was Edelyn's shampoo. But if Edelyn hadn't washed her hair that morning, then why was it so strong?
And then it hit him.
Face burning scarlet, he ducked his head down and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide his clear discomfort. His actions only drew attention to himself, however, and as Professor Slughorn went on to asking Hermione her name, Edelyn turned to him and whispered with a voice that was laced with concern, "Harry, you alright?"
His face felt like it was burning. Nodding, he averted his gaze, eyes wide in embarrassment behind foggy glasses.
"And what's your name, my dear?"
"Oh!" Edelyn glanced up to see Slughorn hovering over their table. "Edelyn, sir. Edelyn Black."
Slughorn's face lit into an expression of utter joy. "Oh, ho! A Black you say!"
Edelyn shrunk slightly in her seat, hoping, begging that Slughorn could see that she was not comfortable going into this. But the old wizard didn't.
"I taught many of your family, you know," he said cheerily. "The whole Black family had been in my House — Slytherin, of course — the last I taught. But, hmm...I didn't know that Regulus had a child..."
She swallowed thickly, a lump forming in her throat. "Regulus was my uncle, sir."
"Oh? But that would mean—"
Slughorn cut himself short, and with eyes softening, he gave Edelyn the most pitying of smiles before saying, "Ah, so you're Sirius' daughter then."
Tugging at the sleeves of her robes, Edelyn muttered, "Y-yeah."
"Well, yes, you do look a lot like him, now that I think of it," said Slughorn gently, "and you have clearly inherited his knack for Potions. Ten points to Gryffindor I think for you and Granger having answered my questions correctly."
Edelyn gave him a small smile and relaxed as his gaze finally drifted back to the rest of the class.
"Well, back to the lesson at hand, I think. I will now place you in pairs for the term," he said, picking up a roll of parchment from his desk. He squinted and read, "Mr Boot and Mr Corner, Miss Parkinson and Miss Patil, Miss Granger and Mr Nott..."
Edelyn slipped off her stool.
"—Mr Malfoy and Miss Black."
Fifteen minutes later, Edelyn was seriously contemplating drowning herself in Draught of Living Death, the potion Slughorn had assigned them for that day's lesson. She roughly chopped the root of asphodel before her, face contorting into an expression of utter displeasure when a voice snarled, "You're cutting those all wrong."
Grip tightening around the knife, she glared at him and hissed, "Don't cross me while I'm holding this, Malfoy, or you might just lose a finger."
Malfoy scoffed. "As if you'd have the nerve," he challenged, voice haughty and face smug. "You might be used to failure, Black, what with the company you keep, but I'd like that vial of Felix Felicis, so either pass me that knife, or—"
He halted when Slughorn approached them, and his expression instantly lifted into a pompous grin. Edelyn faked gagging into her shoulder.
"Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"
Slughorn did not grace Malfoy with a glance. "Yes, I was sorry to hear he had died, although of course, it wasn't unexpected. Dragon Pox at his age..." He nodded at their cauldron, then swept away.
Edelyn sniggered and added the asphodel into their cauldron. "Bad luck, Malfoy," she jeered, "but it looks like Slughorn doesn't give a rat's arse who your granddaddy is."
Malfoy's jaw clenched. Snatching the knife from her hands, he sliced down into the spophorous bean. The blade was dull and his force was great. The bean bulleted into the air.
"Oh, you numbskulled git!" Edelyn seethed, leaning over the table and blinking rapidly as her left eye watered.
The corners of Malfoy's mouth twitched.
By the time they had finished the lesson, Edelyn was in a more sour mood than a Ron who had skipped a meal.
"That's it, I'm done!" she huffed as the Golden Quartet made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, "That's the end of my Hogwarts career. I'm dropping out."
"Oh, stop being so dramatic," said Ron with a yawn. "It wasn't that bad."
"Of course it wasn't bad for you. You're paired with Harry, and the two of you managed to win the vial of Felix Felicis, didn't you? Meanwhile, I had to deal with bloody Malfoy! All he did was sneer at me the whole time, and complain that I was messing everything up...That insolent son of a—"
Hermione quickly cupped Edelyn's mouth with her hand as a few first-years walked by.
Harry, who was equally as upset with this new Potions arrangement, opened his mouth to say something but turned around when he felt a tap on his shoulder. A nervous-looking Hufflepuff student peered up at him with a note in his hand.
"H-hello. You're — erm — Harry Potter, right?" the second-year asked. "I've got a note here from P-Professor Dumbledore." His gaze shifted once Harry took the roll of parchment. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Hi, Miss!"
Ron, Harry, and Hermione all sent him quizzical looks. Edelyn, meanwhile, felt her irritation fade and gave him a warm smile. "Well, if it isn't the boy who owes me a prank," she grinned. "You know, you never told me your name."
"It's Dale. Dale Creevey," the boy beamed.
"Creevey? As in Dennis and Colin Creevey?" Harry asked, wary that Dale was suddenly going to pull out a camera.
He nodded. "Yeah, they're my brothers. I'm a Hufflepuff though...not in Gryffindor like they are."
"There's nothing wrong with being in a different House than your family," Edelyn said.
Dale shrugged. "I know, but I would much rather be in Gryffindor than in Hufflepuff...Sorting Hat didn't think I was brave enough though..."
Edelyn quickly shook her head and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'll have you know, Dale, that one of the bravest wizards I have ever met was a badger."
Taking the golden snitch necklace off her neck, she cupped the charm with her hands, and when she released it, it gleamed with the picture of her and Cedric at the Quidditch World Cup.
"See here? That's Cedric Diggory, and he was my older brother. He was in Hufflepuff and died while standing up to You-Know-Who. He was extremely brave, but also kind and loyal...You're a Hufflepuff not because you're not brave, but because you have other traits that shine even brighter."
Dale beamed. "Thank you, Miss."
Edelyn chuckled. "It's Lyn. Please, call me Lyn."
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"I can't believe you're not going to be there," Ron grumbled on Saturday morning, fork playing with the heap of scrambled eggs on his plate. "I mean, it's Quidditch tryouts and Harry's Captain. It's just...wrong that you won't be there. Even Hermione's coming out to watch."
"It's not like I want to be missing it," Edelyn muttered, picking the raisins off her bran muffin, "but we have that assignment for Slughorn due on Monday and Malfoy claims that this is the only time he's available to work on it."
"And what in bloody hell does that git have to do that's taking up so much of his precious time?"
Edelyn shrugged. "How in Merlin am I supposed to know that?"
"Bet he's busy with whatever he's plotting," Harry mumbled under his breath, to which Hermione gave a groan of exasperation. "We've already been through this, Harry," she hissed in a low voice. "You're reading too much into it. There's no way Malfoy's a Death Eater."
"You didn't hear him on the train, Hermione. I'm telling you, he's replaced his father, I just know it."
"Well, maybe Lyn should ask him during their study session," Ron half-joked. "Ask him what's under that left slee—" He heaved over with a puff of air when Edelyn elbowed him in the ribs.
"Maybe you could — er — come by once you're done?" Harry spoke. "I mean, by the number of people who have signed up, tryouts will probably take all morning." Then, as an afterthought, he said, "Dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden."
"Oh, come off it, Harry," Hermione said impatiently. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you!"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they?" she explained. "After all the persecution last year, the whole Wizarding world has had to admit you were right all along about Voldemort being back. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One' — come on, can't you see why people are interested in you? Not to mention, you've grown about a foot over the summer...Frankly, you've never been more fanciable."
To this last remark, Ron gagged on his eggs and Edelyn spluttered on her coffee before quickly flickering her gaze away to anything but Harry; Hermione sent them both a look of disdain.
Harry felt very hot and wondered whether Edelyn had noticed he had grown taller.
"I should — erm — get going," Edelyn said, flustered as she downed a gulp of coffee and stood up from the bench. Seeing the discontented expression on Ron's face, she added, "Look, you're going to do great. We practised loads last Wednesday, and you blocked a bunch of my shots. You'll perform just fine."
Ron only gave a small grunt in reply.
She sighed softly and squeezed Harry's shoulder in encouragement.
Harry watched her leave, a knot twisting in his gut.
It was almost lunch by the time Edelyn and Malfoy finished their Potions assignment. Irritated, Edelyn quickly collected her things into her schoolbag, hoping to stop by the Quidditch pitch before tryouts ended.
"See you on Monday then," she said and made to exit the Library. When she walked into the first-floor corridor, however, someone grabbed her wrist and harshly yanked her around.
"What the—?"
"What are you playing at?" Malfoy demanded, pale grey boring intently into gunmetal blue. Edelyn tried to tug her arm away, but his grip was firm. "Playing at what?"
"Cut the bullshit, Black," he snarled. "Well, see you on Monday then? What the hell was that?"
Edelyn quirked an eyebrow. "I'm not sure what dear Mummy and Daddy teach you, but that was me extending basic courtesy. Now, let go of my arm before I show you how uncourteous I can be."
Malfoy's grip only tightened. Edelyn flinched and took a steady breath before speaking in her most composed tone, "Look, in an unfortunate turn of events, you and I are stuck as partners for the rest of the year. It's a cruel form of punishment, but I'm not going to waste my energy on arguing with you. I'm tired, and by the looks of it—" She noted the dark shadows under his eyes, contrasting his pale complexion. "—so are you. So, either we work with civility, or you can go take it up with Slughorn that you want to switch partners."
His jaw clenched. "You want to work with civility?" he sneered. "Are you daft? You realize my aunt killed both your parents, right?"
Edelyn blinked at him, body stiffening as she spoke flatly, "Yes, Malfoy, I'm aware."
"Then why in Salazar are you even bothering with working together?" he hissed. "She's my aunt, I'm a Malfoy. Civility, my arse!"
Edelyn sent him a look of disbelief. "Because I'm not a privileged little butterfly like you, whose parents can get him whatever he wants!" she spat. "I actually need to work and get my Potions N.E.W.T. to make something of myself, and I'm not letting something as pathetic as you stop me from that. And for Merlin's sake, grow up, Malfoy. It's high time you stop using your name as some excuse."
He scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that whatever choices you make are yours and yours alone. You can't blame your actions on being a Malfoy."
"You don't know what you're talking about, Black," he growled. "You don't know what it's like to grow up in my family."
"No, I don't know what it's like, but my parents did," she said. "We're not born into this world as either good people or Death Eaters. We've all got both light and dark inside us, and what matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are. Stop playing the victim. You've made choices. Own up to them."
His grip slackened.
Edelyn slid her hand out his clutch. "I've acted on the dark side before. I've used an Unforgivable before, so trust me when I say that it's not just performing any other spell. It takes something away from you." Her expression hardened. "Something you can't ever get back. So, just fair warning, dear cousin mine."
By the time Edelyn reached the Quidditch pitch, her mind was a buzz, eyebrows furrowed in thought. She rubbed her sore wrist. Harry was just calling Ron as Keeper when she arrived by his side.
"Give me another go," Cormac McLaggen demanded.
"You've had your go. You saved four and Ron saved five. Ron's keeper, he won it fair and square."
McLaggen looked as if he was going to punch him. "Well, there's still a Chaser position open, isn't there? I can play that position just as well. Let me show—"
"We've already got three chasers," said Harry, quickly losing his patience now. "Katie, Demelza, and Edelyn."
McLaggen furrowed his eyebrows and then looked over at Edelyn who was giving Ron a high-five. "She didn't even try out!" he protested, flinging his arms up in the air. "That's unfair. You're just being biased toward your friends. Black's been on the team for — like — four years, and that's only because Wood and Johnson just kept keeping whoever was already on the team. For all you know, I could be much better than her."
Edelyn felt as if he had just punched her in the stomach, and the happy expression of congratulations she had had quickly fell from her face.
Harry grimaced and folded his arms. "Fine then. If you think you're better than Lyn, score a single goal past her while she's playing defence, and you can take her place as Chaser."
"But she doesn't even play defence."
"Precisely."
McLaggen pondered on the proposition, then stormed off the pitch, growling threats beneath his breath. He shoved Edelyn in the shoulder as he passed.
"Git," Harry mumbled.
Ron made a rude hand gesture to McLaggen's back. "You alright, Lyn?"
Edelyn felt Harry's hand gently caress her shoulder. "Mhm. Fine!" Her voice was higher than usual and her cheeks glowed red.
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❛ One-sixty. ❜
published: April 24, 2018
⦅ thank you for reading! ⦆
―hugs, aelizia
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