𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔬
𝖈𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖗

🔥

ONCE ELIZABETH STEPS IN, the argument doesn't last much longer — and it's decided that Potter should be allowed to hear whatever it is he wants to.

And so, Diana sits through a long conversation of Sirius telling Harry basically everything she already knows, before the time finally comes for both her and her grandmother to head off home.

Diana's happy to say goodbye to everyone and thank Molly Weasley for dinner — she wants nothing more in this moment than to get home and sprawl out on her bed, being as lazy as she wants. Elizabeth seems to be thinking along the same lines.

"So, you've taken an interest in Potter?" Diana says, upon the door of Grimmauld Place closing behind them. They begin to walk down the pavement, the street around them entirely silent.

"Why shouldn't I? He's an interesting boy," Elizabeth responds.

"Is he?"

"No, not particularly,"

Diana snickers, before her grandmother continues.

"But Voldemort's after him at the end of the day — he plays a very huge part in the Dark Lord's return, not to mention the information he carries. And the Ministry seem to have something on him, too,"

"You think the Ministry are after him?" Diana asks, as they both reach the end of the pathway and linger on the corner of the road, under a flickering street lamp.

"Dementors don't just happen to turn up out of nowhere to go for a little hunt," says Elizabeth. "And it most certainly wasn't Voldemort that sent them to Potter,"

"How do you know?" Diana asks.

"Voldemort doesn't want the boy to be dead and gone in an instant — if he did, he'd have sent his followers to kill him ages ago. He wants to kill him himself. And if there's one thing I know from the First Wizarding War, it's that Voldemort likes playing with people. There's no way he would have just sent dementors to kill Potter, that's not enough for him,"

"So it's the Ministry," Diana nods. "It couldn't be anyone else. Nobody has that power over dementors,"

"It makes sense, if you think hard enough about it. The boy saw the return of Voldemort, and the Ministry are trying to keep it all quiet, claiming it's all bullshit — most likely to try and keep some control, no doubt — but as long as Potter stands by his word, he'll be a pain in their arses. And Fudge won't like that, not one bit. Especially with Dumbledore getting involved. The people love Dumbledore. He might even have more power than Fudge himself if he ever stood up to him properly,"

Elizabeth retrieves a cigarette from her pocket and lights it using Silverstone magic.

Diana's always in awe when she sees her grandmother casting fire even without a wand. She's never seen the lethal part of it — but still, Diana's excited to perfect it herself. Even the thought of her one day being able lighting a candle without having to move a muscle creates a buzz.

Elizabeth puffs on her cigarette.

"And the boy's being put on trial for defending himself after a Dementor attack. Ridiculous,"

"I know," Diana says, crossing her arms. "What did they want him to do? Have his soul sucked out of him?"

"...Maybe," Elizabeth says. "You could be on the right lines,"

Diana stares into the darkness of the street ahead of her. She was being sarcastic, but honestly? Her grandmother's theories don't seem that unrealistic. And for someone that used to work in quite a high position at the Ministry, there's no doubt that Elizabeth doesn't know how their minds work.

Still, the thought of the Ministry turning away from the real horrors rather than preparing protection for the Wizarding World does leave a sick feeling in the girl's stomach.

"We'll never be able to properly trust them, will we?" Diana says, turning to look at her grandmother.

Elizabeth takes another puff, looking back at her granddaughter with an expression that always gives Diana the impression she's reading her mind.

"We'll never be able to trust them at all, Di,"

This seems to stick in Diana's mind — like, as soon as the words leave Elizabeth's mouth, they imprint themselves into the white-haired girl's brain, like a tattoo inking itself onto skin.

We'll never be able to trust them at all.

The words turn her stomach. It's not even like Diana's surprised, she's always had a small dislike for the Ministry — which was her grandmother's influence, no doubt. And it wasn't like she'd always been big on trusting people either — in fact, she's a strong believer in 'trusting no-one', although she might not abide by that rule entirely. She trusts her grandmother. She trusts her two best friends, Alison and Daphne. So, that's not no-one. There's a lucky three Diana knows she can put her faith in. And that's enough for her.

Of course, she is sort-of friends with the other people in her year — specifically, her house — but Diana's not stupid. You can be friends with someone and still not trust them entirely. At least, that's what she thinks.

Because she's seen it all happen in front of her — not to anyone close to her, or to her personally. Not really. But she's a good observer.

She once saw a Slytherin couple in the year above split up. It was the talk of the common room, really, and the girl was heartbroken — the girl's so-called friends were there for her anytime she needed, as they should've been, absolutely dragging that boy's name through the dirt with her. But the sight of them laughing and grinning around the ex-boyfriend when their friend wasn't around didn't fail to stick in Diana's brain.

She also saw a boy being all lovey-dovey with his girlfriend one day, only for her to leave to go to her lesson and for him to absolutely slate the shit out of her to his friends behind her back.

Diana doesn't like it. It puts a strange feeling in her stomach — the same feeling those words her grandmother had just spoken did.

Sometimes the young Silverstone thinks there's something wrong with people, nowadays. Like something's broken. She knows she's not an angel. She's definitely far from it. But everyone seems to lack compassion. Nothing feels real anymore, like everyone lies to everyone, like the possibility of someone being genuine is practically nonexistent.

Maybe she's just been stuck around the wrong people. Maybe there are hallways with happy couples and loving friends in.

Diana sees the Ministry as exactly the same. Outside they're all organised and presented as wanting the best for their people — but that's all a shitty facade to hide the lies and the greed and the self-interest.

Or the fear.

Diana knows fear makes people do stupid things, student or adult. Like being scared your partner is out of your league so you cheat on them to look the better person. Or ignoring the claims of Voldemort's return because you can't face the possibility of another Wizarding War.

Or having to shoot spells at your own son and his wife and kick them out one Christmas, stopping them from visiting their daughter ever again because they promised her a pretty drawing of a cat on her forearm but instead attempted to give her the dark mark when she was just four years-old.

Diana still has the scar from where they'd almost gotten halfway before Elizabeth came in.

It looks all funny — half a black snake imprinted on her arm, it's back drawn upwards where it abruptly finishes in the middle, without the weird swirly part that looks like a figure of eight and the skull resting at the top.

In fact, sometimes Diana doesn't even think it looks like a snake, and more of an oddly shaped anchor. She's just thankful for long sleeved clothing. Although she doesn't really care too much if someone were to point it out. She doesn't bother making up lies to cover it up — her parents are awful people, and Diana won't make any effort to hide it.

What pisses her off the most usually is when people act all sorry. She knows they mean well, but what's done is done. She doesn't want pity. Pity gets her nowhere.

But anyways, let's move on. Diana finds thinking about it all a bit draining — and she doesn't have the time for that.

They arrive home minutes later, the girl immediately rushing upstairs to find her cat — who's sitting in her usual spot on the young Silverstone's bed, purring at the sight of her owner's return.

Ghost was given to Diana as a gift to bring to Hogwarts with her when she began her first year. The young Silverstone feels it was only yesterday she was merely a tiny ball of black fluff jumping around her on one of the sofas in the Slytherin common room — but, as Diana grows, so does her cat. And she's raised Ghost like a mother raises a child. In fact, that cat practically is her child, Diana would say.

Perhaps she's a crazy cat lady at heart. Nothing wrong with that.

Diana decides to hunt through her muggle records and decide which album her background noise for the night will be.

No matter how many times The Weird Sisters' music is shoved down her throat in the common room when somebody else has control of the record player — Diana stands by her own opinion in the fact that muggle music is so much better than the Wizarding World's. Like, there's only so many times you can listen to Do The Hippogriff before wanting to throw yourself from the Astronomy Tower. But bands like The Smiths, Oasis and Fleetwood Mac? Timeless.

She's managed to convert a few purebloods into agreeing with her (the muggleborns and halfbloods pretty much already had the same opinion) — and then there's the ones in denial. Like her friend Blaise, who complains all the time when she takes over the common room phonograph and blasts Louder Than Bombs to everyone. But Diana always catches him humming to Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now — and that's enough for her.

She shuffles through many records, including The Queen is Dead and Tango in The Night. The silver-haired girl eventually settles with the album Bella Donna, just because she's craving a listen to Edge of Seventeen (her favourite song since she was, like, twelve).

As her record begins to play, she grabs a book from her bookshelf and two envelopes that had arrived for her earlier that day, before turning back to her bed - where her cat stares at her, still sitting curled up.

Diana sits on the edge of the bed, where Ghost crawls over to her and finds a cosy spot to curl up in her lap. Diana smiles, before opening her letters.

They're from her two friends — Allison and Daphne. Daphne's letter is long and detailed, as she talks about her holiday abroad she'd just gotten back from after two weeks. Allison's is fairly short, as she and Diana send each other letters all the time, meaning there's not always much for her to say.

As predicted, the letter from Allison is only about five sentences long, and it's mainly focused around her trying to organise a shopping trip before the end of summer. She talks about meeting in London and visiting some of the Muggle shops, before venturing into Diagon Alley for school supplies.

Diana loves shopping. Especially at Muggle shops. If she can tie that in with the chore of purchasing everything she needs for school, then she's more than happy to.

She turns over the parchment and starts scribbling on the back, before finding a new envelope to put it in. She writes Allison's address on the front, before putting it on her beside table. She'll take it downstairs in the morning and place it on top of the pile of letters that are always sitting on the kitchen table ready to be sent off.

Diana's grandmother always has mail to deliver — her letters are usually replies to other wizards and witches, perhaps in the Ministry or the Order. Diana doesn't really know who they're for or what they're about. As she's grown, she's learned that her grandmother is simply just a busy woman — and that's always how it will be.

Around half an hour later, the young Silverstone decides to go to bed, creating a mental list in her mind of all the different kinds of things she needs to buy. She'd quite like a new necklace before going back to school... and perhaps some new tops for when she isn't in uniform...

Ghost is curled up in a ball, fast asleep in the middle of Diana's king sized bed.

"Come on, you," Diana says, reluctantly picking her up and shifting her to the other side of the bed, in order to climb under the covers herself.

The cat gives her a look of annoyance, which makes Diana chuckle, however she soon reclaims a spot next to her owner — huddling up to the girl and purring softly.

Diana lies awake, her mind set on all the different shops in London she wants to visit. It was a yearly tradition at this point, a huge shopping trip right before going back to school — and so, with the reminder that summer is ending and Hogwarts is nearing, Diana's mind naturally flicks to wondering what her fifth year will bring for her.

She wonders how the awful events that happened just before she finished her fourth year will affect the school year ahead of her.

One thing is for sure — everything will start to change now, what with Voldemort's return.

🔥

SINCE BOOKLISTS ARE NEEDED in order for Diana to actually know what she has to buy, her planned shopping trip alongside her two best friends was delayed until the last day of summer — which was when they received their booklists.

But, funnily enough, when the letter eventually does arrive during Diana's breakfast, the booklist ends up being the last thing on her mind — because instead, an emerald badge with a silver lining tips out of the envelope as well. She picks it up and reads the word 'Prefect' engraved on it, before realisation creeps up on her face.

She'd forgotten her year were supposed to be chosen for Prefects this summer.

"What's that?" Elizabeth asks her granddaughter, eyeing the shiny silver thing in her hand. Diana flips it around to show her.

"They've made me a Prefect," Diana says.

She's not overly surprised, or overly excited. Of course, she's not against the idea of being a Prefect, either — in fact, she doesn't mind it at all.

Introducing the first years to Slytherin doesn't sound so bad. Diana might dislike a few people in her house, but that doesn't take away a bit of her house pride. It's not Slytherin's fault they ended up with a few assholes sleeping in their dormitories — Diana knows there's definitely a fair amount of those in other houses, too.

Not to mention, she's pretty lucky when it comes to her house colours. The silver and green definitely compliment her hair.

"Ah!" Elizabeth exclaims with delight. "I was a Prefect. You'll be thankful for the bathroom, it's much nicer than all those other grubby common room ones. You'll never want to leave,"

Diana lets out a chuckle. "That's good to know. I won't have to fight Pansy for a turn in the shower,"

"And you'll do good with a bit of authority," Elizabeth says. "Nothing gets past you,"

"Too right," Diana agrees with a nod, her lips curving upwards. "Patrolling the halls sounds exhilarating, though,"

"I suppose there's a downside to everything. I never really enjoyed being on patrol either — but it was all worth it for that bath, I'm telling you!"

"That bath better be as good as you're telling me," Diana says, taking a final swig of her orange juice she'd been nursing whilst reading her start-of-term letter. "If it's not all it's cracked up to be, I'll be extremely disappointed,"

"Oh, you won't," Elizabeth says. "I suppose you'll be heading into London, now you've got your list?"

Diana nods. "Want me to get you anything?"

"A new pair of shoes would be handy," Elizabeth replies. "Just some black heels — like the ones I bought last Christmas,"

Diana nods, as Elizabeth reaches out her arm and hands her some money.

"That should be more enough. Any money you have spare, treat yourself to whatever you want,"

"Cheers," Diana says. "I'll probably bring Allison and Daphne back later — just a heads up."

"That's fine," Elizabeth says. "Just don't be out in London too late — especially with all the funny stuff that's happening at the moment. You never know who's around,"

"I know, I know," Diana says, having received this lecture regularly over the summer.

She puts her money from her grandmother into a black purse, alongside her own which she'd put aside specifically to spend today. She then places her purse into a matching, small cross body bag, also containing her booklist, before saying goodbye to Elizabeth and leaving.

She can't wait to see her friends.