The Last Gryffindor (Sirius Black)

Sequel? Ch IV

One after another, the girls flooded the entry room of the carriage, their dresses, varying from sleek, form hugging fits to ones that flared out at the waist, made the spacious carriage interior feel cramped. The men, decked out in coats and dressing robes of fluctuating expense, could scarcely cross the room unhindered by bustling fabric underfoot. The most commonly admired, of course, turned out to be Fleur — and why not? Her Veela roots left her breathtaking even without a jaw dropping silver dress. If anything, it might have only distracted from her beauty

But Fleur wasn't who I sought out. I dragged myself out of my bitter slump long enough to force a smile on my face and pretend to be happy for Maellie when she at last arrived. I could sink back into my conflicting swirl of emotions surrounding discovering who my mother actually was after seeing Maellie off. She deserved at least that much.

I didn't need to wait long.

She appeared before me in a flash of glittering gold, slipping easily through the groups of weaving people awaiting their dates or otherwise preparing to depart. Her dress was a sight to behold, even amongst so many others to admire, befitting only a princess with the way the layers upon layers of fabric exploded out from her waist in heavy waves of material I couldn't hope to name.

Without realising, my forced grin stole into something more natural. I waved her over to the seats I'd been jealously hoarding while I waited, and she moved the bag I used to place-save the unoccupied one, carefully settling herself into it, though not before giving the dress a dramatic twirl for my benefit.

"I see you went for a more subtle look," I teased. "If someone shines a light on you, you'll blind the whole room."

Maellie cupped her bejewel hand over her ear and feigned difficulty hearing. "What was that you said? My beauty is absolutely blinding? Why thank you, Caius, I have to agree."

"Sure. Let's stick with that," I said, rolling my eyes. "Do you know what time your date is supposed to relieve me of your presence?"

She glanced down at her wizards' watch, an ancient thing utterly clashing with her current attire, and hummed out, "I'm supposed to meet him by the carriage in about... er... five minutes?"

Normally reserved for boys when they came of age at seventeen, the watch had been a gift from her ailing grandfather before he passed two summers ago. His own watch, that he, too, had received upon reaching majority. She treasured the precious heirloom above just about everything, including her wand. I couldn't remember a time where I hadn't seen it clunking around on her wrist since the day she got it, possibly because she thought a jealous relative might steal it were it not physically attached at all times. Their more conservative ideals took great offence at being snubbed in favour of someone who was neither male nor seventeen.

The fact that they expected her to take care of her grandfather day in and day out for months, even at the expense of keeping her from school, and then be surprised when it turned out he appreciated her efforts enough to reward her, while simultaneously rebuffing their neglect, was adorable. They probably would try to steal it away given half the chance, and she spared none of those. The watch had quickly become her most treasured possession, only in part because she missed her late grandfather. The other reason, I suspected, was because she genuinely enjoyed causing her backwards, chauvinistic relatives distress.

Realising I had been staring, I shook the unnecessary thoughts from my head, asking, "Is that five minutes in British Summer Time, or Dubiously Accurate Maellie Time?"

Without missing a beat, she pulled a deliberately patronising face followed by an equally false patronising laugh. "Ha. Ha. You are so funny. What would I ever do without your boundless wit."