Whenever she got sad, there was 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲.
And on the other hand, whenever he got sad, there was 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫.
Until they discovered something that only required both of them in the same room -- nothing else.
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 �...
I was walking back to the common room with Danielle when a voice stopped us in our tracks. We turned around to see a first-year boy, slightly frightened and disheveled. His eyes widened as they landed on Danielle. It wasn't everyday you got to come face-to-face with the daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Yes?" She asks.
"P-professor Umbridge summons you t-to her office. Now." He shifts uncomfortably and runs away after delivering the message. Danielle and I share a look.
"Now? I have Quidditch practice in like—" She pauses to check her wristwatch, "ten minutes,"
"What could she want?" Regardless of us being skeptical and not really having much free time, we turned around and began walking to the direction of her office.
When we arrived, I lifted a fist to knock—but only after the first was the door opened, revealing about ten other fifth-year Slytherins standing on her nauseatingly pink room. She stood before us with a wide smile, stretching across her wrinkled and painted face.
"Ms. Lestrange and Ms. Bass! Why don't you come inside and join the rest?" An annoying giggle followed this, and I could see Danielle press her lips into a thin line to suppress grimace.
It smelled strongly of sugar—burnt sugar—and a hint of cheap perfume. We stood near the doorway, seeing as there was not much space left, as she made her way to her pink desk and sat on her pink cushioned chair.
I ran my eyes through the room, but I cared not to continue when a pale blond head caught my eye. He was already looking at me, but averted his gaze when I stared back.
Pansy, Theo, Blaise, Millicent, Montague, Crabbe, Goyle, and Astoria were also there—but I did not pay much attention to them. His presence was enough to distract me.
That was—until an annoying screech sounded across the room. I only realized it was a voice, a speaking voice, when I turned to see the source; Umbridge had started talking.
"Tea, anyone?" She asked, gesturing to a tray of teacups that looked like they belonged to either an eighty-year-old grandma's antique set or a seven-year-old girl's tea party set. When no one had answered, she let out another giggle and smiled widely. Like she always did.
"You all must be wondering why you're here today," I began to wonder if it hurt to smile like that.
"Flint is probably planning ways to kill us by now." I heard Danielle whisper lowly to Theo, who was closest to us.
