𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐬 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐭

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t h i r d    y e a r

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t h i r d    y e a r

ONCE the Fat Lady starts singing bloody murder about Sirius Black, Hogwarts declares a lockdown. Adeline writes to her uncle. 

She tells him about the mumurs that Sirius is looking for Potter, about her patches of foggy memory and how time seems to be lost on her more often than not. She writes to him of the darkness she's been seeing, of the Boggart incident and how she's barely slept since. 

The rumours about their family go unmentioned. Adeline thinks about telling Arthur what people have been saying about them, but what good will come of it?

There isn't anything he can do and Adeline knows that if her family were to hear a whisper of what had been said, she'd be summoned home immedietly. It would be lucky if she was ever let out of the house ever again. The estate's best kept secret would be the girl who had been hidden away in her rooms and forgotten by the rest of the world. 

The letter is written and sent off before everyone is shuffled into the great hall. God forbid anyone touch a hair on Potter's head. Adeline can't exactly go around telling people one of the world's most wanted men really isn't all that bad. So she stays quiet and watches it all unfold. 

The houses are seperated. Adeline finds Ari and Dean in one of the hall's corners. They're leaning against the cement walls sitting atop their bedding. They fall silent as she approaches, an indicator that they don't want her to be part of the conversation. 

She looks between them in confusion, almost ready to let it go, but Ari looks annoyed and she doesn't think she's ever seen him so. 

Dean looks bored, as usual. 

"What's going on?" She asks, taking a seat amongst Ari's blankets. 

Ari looks toward Dean expectantly and when he doesn't receive anything but a bored sigh, he turns back to Adeline. 

"Dean has something to share with you." Ari explains, heaving himself up and walking away.

She looks to Dean, who appears exasperated by even bothering with this conversation. 

"Well?" Adeline prompts, never one for suspense or surprise. 

"It's not even a big deal. No one would even remember at this point. Yet they all think you should know." His voice is a lazy drawl, his American accent so stark against the hushed whispers surrounding them. 

"Know what?" Adeline begins with to twitch with nervousness. She doesn't know what she hates more - the way all her friends seem to already know or the fact that Dean had something to do with it. 

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