Quiet the tease

Hey, I am Selene Blackthorn. In just a few hours, I will be starting my third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It should have been an exciting prospect—new spells to learn, new adventures waiting around the corner—but instead, I find my thoughts clouded with something far more pressing.

My parents—Silvia and Caius Blackthorn—are proud, dangerously so. Arrogantly prejudiced purebloods, devoted followers of the Dark Lord, they hold firm to the belief that blood purity is paramount. I, on the other hand, have never been drawn to the darkness that surrounds them, nor do I have any desire to step into the shadows they so revere. And yet, deep down, I know that when the time comes, my choices might not be mine to make. I try not to dwell on it too much—it never does me any good.

But there are things that are mine. Fashion, for one.

I've always loved dressing up, expressing myself in fabrics and colors, a stark contrast to the cold, dark tones of my family home. My bedroom, a sanctuary in the midst of all the expectations and suffocating ideals, is a reflection of me—soft pastels, delicate lace, an array of carefully curated outfits neatly arranged in my wardrobe. It's the epitome of girlhood, a space that feels truly mine in a house that often doesn't.

The Hogwarts Express ride is long, and I prefer slipping into my robes on the train rather than spending the entire journey in them. I carefully packed my essentials—wand, a few books, my journal, and, of course, a few beauty items—into my trunk and called for the house-elf. The small, trembling creature appeared instantly, bowing deeply before taking my things.

I brushed my long, dark hair until it shone, applied a touch of makeup, and slipped into an outfit I had picked for the day—a fitted blouse, a pleated skirt, and knee-high boots. A mix of elegance and effortless charm.

Our manor, in stark contrast to my choices, was a looming estate with towering walls and corridors that always seemed to stretch into darkness. To an outsider, it might appear cold, unwelcoming even, but to me, it was simply home. The thick stone walls had watched me grow up, had held secrets and whispered expectations into the silence.

As I entered the dining hall, the rich scent of brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the delicate aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted meats. My mother sat at the head of the long, dark oak table, dressed in an all-black ensemble, her sharp eyes immediately landing on me. A look of faint irritation crossed her face.

"You need to start dressing better," she remarked, barely waiting for me to take my seat. "You are growing up, Selene. You won't appear 'cute' forever. It implies immaturity and childishness."

I sighed, rolling my eyes slightly as I took a sip of my coffee. "Mama, please. I oblige with everything else you ask of me. Can we leave my fashion choices out of it?"

She shook her head, clearly unimpressed, but said nothing more.

Across the table, my father remained silent as usual, his sharp features unreadable as he sipped his tea. A man of few words, he only spoke when absolutely necessary. While I never particularly admired this quality, I supposed it was far better than my mother's insistence on speaking even when silence was the wiser choice.

I focused on my breakfast, letting the conversation die down, but the weight of expectations still hung over me. It always did.

Soon, I would be back at Hogwarts, away from all of this. For a while, at least.

I apparated with my parents on the platform.

The moment I stepped onto Platform 9¾, the familiar buzz of chatter and the gleaming red engine of the Hogwarts Express filled my senses. Yet, my eyes immediately searched for one person in particular—Draco Malfoy.

Draco had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. Among the sea of students in black robes and frantic goodbyes, he stood out effortlessly, his platinum blond hair neatly combed, his posture exuding the same kind of effortless confidence he always carried. There was something about him that was different from everyone else. I didn't just see Draco as another Slytherin or another pureblood with a name that carried weight—I saw him.

As soon as he noticed me, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Took you long enough, Blackthorn," he drawled. "I was starting to think you'd abandoned me."

I rolled my eyes but grinned, making my way toward him. "Like I'd ever leave you to fend for yourself among the first-years. They'd probably start worshipping you like a prince."

Draco scoffed, though the pleased glint in his eyes betrayed him. "Not my fault I was born into a family of actual importance. Speaking of which, I've been thinking—if I were to write a book about myself, a self-introduction, it would be nothing short of grand. Want to hear it?"

I folded my arms and gave him a look. "Oh, absolutely. How could I possibly pass up the opportunity to hear the great Draco Malfoy narrate his own life story? Life full of luxury, isn't that hard?" I said sarcastically.

He grinned, straightened his robes, and cleared his throat dramatically.

"The name's Draco Lucius Malfoy. Son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy—perhaps you've heard of them? Of course, you have. The Malfoys are one of the most ancient and noble pureblood families in the wizarding world. Wealth, power, and class—these are not just things we possess, they are part of who we are. I was raised in Malfoy Manor, an estate grand enough to make even the most prestigious of wizards feel unworthy upon stepping through its doors. My father, a man of influence, has always ensured that I understand the importance of our name. My mother, the most elegant woman in all of wizarding society, has instilled in me the refinement and poise befitting a Malfoy."

He paused for effect, casting me a sideways glance to gauge my reaction. I raised an eyebrow but let him continue.

"Ever since I first set foot in Hogwarts, it was clear that I was destined for greatness. A Slytherin, naturally. Anything else would have been an insult to my lineage. My academic prowess, sharp wit, and exceptional Quidditch skills have ensured that my presence never goes unnoticed. But beyond that, I am a firm believer in the traditions that make our world what it is. The importance of heritage, the strength of our bloodlines, the undeniable fact that some wizards are simply superior—"

"Alright, alright!" I interrupted, unable to hold back a laugh. "Merlin's beard, Draco, do you ever get tired of talking about how wonderful you are?"

He smirked, leaning against his trunk with an air of practiced ease. "No, actually. But you seem to enjoy listening."

I shook my head, but there was no real annoyance behind it. The truth was, there was something about Draco that made everything more entertaining. He had a way of making even the most mundane conversations feel important, as if the entire world should be paying attention to whatever he had to say.

To others, he was arrogant, condescending, and—on more than one occasion—downright insufferable. But to me? He was just Draco. My best friend. The boy who made the dullest train rides feel like grand adventures. The boy who, despite his air of superiority, always saved me a seat beside him before the train even left the station.

I nudged his shoulder playfully. "Come on, future best-selling author, let's find a compartment before you start planning a second volume."

Draco let out a mock sigh. "Fine. But don't be surprised when my book becomes required reading at Hogwarts."

I laughed as we boarded the train together, knowing that another year at Hogwarts awaited us—another year filled with magic, mischief, and, undoubtedly, more of Draco Malfoy's legendary storytelling.

"So, have you heard about the latest news?" I asked him as we feasted on Chocolate Frogs. My parents, and his too, never let us eat things they believed to be 'unhealthy,' so a train ride to Hogwarts was our opportunity to unleash those junk-loving demons.

"About the Azkaban escapee?" he replied.

"Yes, Sirius Black," I said gravely.

Draco unwrapped another Chocolate Frog and popped it into his mouth before replying, "I wonder how he did it. Well, I don't even know how he got into Azkaban in the first place."

"Well, you don't know him personally," I shrugged my shoulders.

Draco leaned back against the seat, his expression unreadable. "Well, he's my mother's cousin."

I nearly choked on my own Chocolate Frog. "What? Your mother is related to Sirius Black?"

He nodded, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Yeah, she's the sister of Bellatrix Lestrange too."

I was at a loss for words. "Oh my god, that's crazy."

Draco smirked slightly at my reaction, but there was something else in his eyes—something contemplative. For all his bravado, he didn't like talking about family matters that were... complicated. And the fact that Sirius Black, an infamous Azkaban escapee, was tied to his own bloodline? That was bound to stir something in him.

For a moment, we just sat there, the hum of the train filling the silence. Then, as if shaking off the thought, Draco straightened up. "Anyway, if he managed to escape, I bet he didn't do it without help. Azkaban isn't exactly easy to break out of."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. And if the Ministry is worried, then there's got to be more to this than what they're telling us."

Draco gave me a knowing look. "Now that's the first intelligent thing you've said today."

I threw a Chocolate Frog at him. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"Don't you ever get tired of that obnoxious color?" Draco asked, pointing at my pink outfit with a look of exaggerated disdain.

I placed a hand on my chest, feigning deep offense. "Obnoxious? Excuse me, it's pretty."

He snorted. "You look like a walking, talking cotton candy."

I gasped dramatically. "And yet, you're still sitting next to me. Which means you must like cotton candy."

Draco chuckled, shaking his head. "I tolerate it."

Before I could fire back, the compartment door flew open, and in came the entire 'clan'—Kaelthorn Vexley, or as I called her, Kenny, with her effortlessly confident stride; Sreena Valebrook, my other best friend, grinning as always; Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, looking as clueless as ever; Pansy Parkinson, who predictably made a beeline for Draco's side; and Blaise Zabini, cool and composed as ever.

"Hey, you lot," I greeted, leaning back as they all piled into the compartment with familiar ease.

Crabbe and Goyle immediately squeezed in on either side of Draco, practically making him the filling of a sandwich. I couldn't help but giggle at his brief look of suffering before he rolled his eyes. On the opposite side, Kenny, Sree, Pansy, Blaise, and I claimed our seats, settling in comfortably.

Kenny and Sree were my real best friends—if I ever needed an accomplice for a late-night adventure or someone to talk to until dawn, it was them. Pansy, on the other hand, was more of an okay-ish friend. She had her moments, but her tendency to be male-centric—specifically Draco-centric—was honestly exhausting. She would go out of her way to make sure she was the center of attention, even if it meant subtly (or not so subtly) putting other girls down. It was annoying, but otherwise, there wasn't much to outright dislike about her.

Blaise, meanwhile, was effortlessly cool, always carrying himself with an air of quiet confidence. He wasn't loud or boastful like Draco, but his presence was just as commanding. Kenny had the biggest crush on him, and I swear, every time he so much as looked in her direction, she turned a shade of pink that rivaled my dress.

As for Crabbe and Goyle? Well... their one true love was food. Always had been, always would be.

"Anyone got snacks?" Crabbe asked, already eyeing the Chocolate Frog in my hand.

I smirked. "We just got on the train, and you're already thinking about food?"

Goyle, completely unfazed, nodded. "Yeah. And?"

Draco shook his head. "Honestly, it's a miracle you two don't turn into pumpkins by the end of each year."

"That's rich coming from you," I teased. "The amount of sweets you hoard is borderline criminal."

Draco shot me a look but didn't deny it.

Pansy, meanwhile, had already draped herself beside Draco, twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. "So, Draco," she cooed, "tell us, how dreadful was your summer without us?"

Draco smirked. "Oh, agonizing, Pansy. Could barely get through a day without your constant commentary."

Sree snickered, and Kenny muttered, "That was sarcasm, in case anyone missed it."

I grinned, settling into my seat as the train began to move, the familiar hum of the Hogwarts Express filling the air. Another year at Hogwarts had officially begun.