𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 / 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒 / 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐖𝐒

𝟏𝟔 - 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟓

"Do you have that lipstick I let you borrow last weekend?" Andromeda asked, peeking around the ornate paper room divider she and her sisters brought from home at the beginning of the year. No one ever really used it—the four of you had known each other practically your whole lives and didn't bother hiding yourselves as you changed in a flurry before early morning classes, but it was perfect for hanging the two black evening gowns you planned on wearing to tonight's supper party.

You weren't entirely surprised that Andy had been invited as well. She embodied wisdom well beyond her years, and wasn't afraid to show it off in class. Women of the Black family had a long and proud history of being seen and appreciated rather than being heard and understood.

"Here," you said, glancing away from the vanity mirror for a split second to toss the gold tube into her awaiting hand. You would never in a million years trade places with either of the three Black sisters, but you had to admit you were envious of their mastery of cosmetic application. It was written in their bloodline to keep an eye out for the best and rarest perfumes, serums, and glosses.

Less than an hour later, the two of you emerged from your crypt of a dormitory and walked arm in arm through the castle, deflecting the strange looks you received from students on their way to and from the library.

"If it's a collection Slughorn's after," Andy whispered in your ear, hiding her words behind a silk-gloved hand. "It's a collection he's got."

And she was absolutely right.

Students from every reach of the castle were scattered across Slughorn's office-turned-dining room in small puddles. First-year Ravenclaws discussed potion-theory with fourth-year Gryffindors and an odd grouping of Slytherin huddled anxiously by the window, tapping the rims of their punch glasses to avoid eye contact with one another. A single laugh rang out through the stiff atmosphere of the room and you glanced toward the very back of the room to see Lily Evans reacting to what could only have been another one of Slughorn's terrible attempts at a joke.

Lily was gorgeous, and you always thought so. Her flaming red hair was pulled away from her face in a long flat plait that brushed against her hip as she talked animatedly to your professor. James always cursed you for not being a Gryffindor, but these days it was mostly because he could have used you to get closer with the likes of her.

For a split second, she glanced toward the door and offered you a polite smile and subtle wave, which you returned. You prayed for her sake she kept her wits about her when it came to your brother.

"I'm simply parched," Andy said, hooking her arm around yours and guiding the two of you toward the punch bowl packed with your fellow Slytherins. Dinner didn't start for another five or so minutes but the shoes she insisted you borrow for the occasion were already digging uncomfortably into your heels.

The two of you already made a pact before walking in that you wouldn't leave each other's side throughout the whole affair no matter what. You intended to make good on your end of the deal, especially after seeing what shifty characters Slughorn was considering for his collection.

"Potter," a voice behind you rang out. Your back stiffened and Andy bit down hard on her painted bottom lip in anticipation of what you would find upon twisting around.

Lucius Malfoy stood in the exact same place as you did not even moments before, swirling a decadent brass goblet in one hand while the other pet the silver snake handle of his wand that peered up at you from within his jacket pocket. "What a surprise to see you here," he purred, a vexing smile tugging at the corners of his thin, serpentine lips. It was a smile frozen in time, like that of a statue. It didn't quite reach his eyes. Behind him, Severus walked like his shadow, gulping but refusing to look up and meet your eye.