𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐍 | 𝐇.𝐏. | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟎𝟏𝟒 - 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐦𝐞

SHE GAPES at the mirror and can't believe what stares back. It certainly is a version of her, but one she had considered long lost. From before the war. But now, she stares back. Jade stares back— mighty as the pureblood royalty she once used to be.

The thought of it sends tremors to her hands, faint and subtle, but she still sees them. Damns them.

This shouldn't make her nervous. This was how it once was. She should be used to it.

She isn't.

It's because she has not looked like this for a long time and it reminds her of who she's supposed to be. But it doesn't fit her persona anymore. And she knows.

Tiny rubies, rich in colour, cling to every curve of her body before draping to the floor where they pool like a puddle of spoiled red wine. She wears long sleeves, capped at the wrists with cuffs of black satin. The neckline grazes her collarbone, showing off a necklace of pure diamond. It's the only family heirloom she still possesses. The Ministry took all other jewelry, assumed it was all dark artifacts. She fumbles with the stone. She hasn't worn it since her parents were sentenced to life in Azkaban. Had wanted to bury that part of her with them. But here she is— wearing the treacherous money again.

She shakes her head, ridding herself of those thoughts. This wasn't something she should be focusing on right now. Soon, she won't ever have to think of these miserable situations again.

She sweeps locks of her hair up and pins them on top of her head in two horns. A red and onyx hair vine of the darkest crystal goes around it.

She paints her lips the brightest red and smothers it to the sides until it resembles stains of blood.

Tonight she's the devil flaunt in Gryffindor red. She considers it enough to startle him. She's done it just for him, after all.

She glances at her reflection one last time and then opens the drawer. She picks up the kitchen knife that the tiny voice in her mind convinced her to steal at breakfast that morning.

Just in case. You can never be sure. They all have magic and you don't.

She drags the knife down the wooden table before sheathing it in a strap around her thigh.

And swipes out of the room.

***

A thousand live bats flutter from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more sweep past students in low black clouds. Jade enters the Great Hall, the beading of her dress clinking and hissing against the marble tiles.

She sees Malfoy first, his arm draped around a random fifth-year Slytherin, obviously an admirer of Voldemort's Death Eaters. She giggles girlishly at something he says.

Jade rolls her eyes, and he catches hers.

His eyes glimmer radiant silver in the moonlight of the Great Hall's ceiling. He winks at her. Brat.

She ignores him and walks to the wine table. As she pours out a glass, a voice speaks from behind her.

"Look at what she's wearing," He says in a mocking tone, making her heart sink. "It's like she's asking to get fucked in the arse. Want to have a go, Wilson? I'm sure she'll—"

A sizzle of magic sounds from behind her and she turns to find Seamus Finnigan spread out on the floor, Potter and his wand – soon to be hers – standing before him.

He catches her eye and her cheeks flush. Harry Potter looks— awfully gorgeous tonight. Dapples of white-gold moonlight shine in his wild onyx hair and she can't help but stare. She had wondered what he'd come as tonight. A skeleton? A vampire? But not one bit of her expected this. The boldness of it all.