⫶⫶⫶ ᴇ ᴅ ᴇ ʟ y ɴ ⫶⫶⫶
― Edelyn Aurélia Black learned
from a young age that h e r o e s
aren't always the ones who win.
They're the ones who fight. And
so, Edelyn fights, until the green
lying dormant beh...
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𝓐𝓨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝓦𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳
⟠
"Blimey, get off! I DON'T — WANT — TO — GO!"
Edelyn struggled as Hermione and Ginny grabbed an arm each and dragged her out of the girls' dormitories and down the steps into the common room. It was the night of the Yule Ball and it had taken the combined efforts of Hermione and Ginny to force Edelyn into the dress Juliet Diggory had sent her by owl post a week prior. Ginny nearly got punched in the face when she then proposed putting makeup on Edelyn; she and Hermione resolved that Edelyn was fine without it ( she was a descendent of the Black lineage after all ).
"You're not — leaving us — to go — alone!" Hermione panted, wondering what in Heavens Oliver Wood had ordered for Quidditch practices to make Edelyn so strong, despite a seemingly scrawny build.
Edelyn huffed. "Neither of you is going alone. You're going with Krum, and you with Neville." She groaned. "Urgh, where's my wand? Granger, Weasley, you let go of my arms right now or I'm going to blast your hands off!"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oie! George!" she called out to her older brother. He was standing with Lee, fixing his bowtie. "A little help here?"
"Ah, don't you ladies look lovely this evening," George grinned as he pranced over. "And of what service may I be to you?"
"We need to get to our dates," said Ginny, indicating Hermione and herself, "and you, George, need to get Lyn to the Great Hall."
"No, you don't," Edelyn snapped, sending Ginny a disgruntled look. "It's just a stupid Ba—" But before Edelyn could even finish, George had swooped her up off her feet and slumped her over his shoulder.
"George Fabian Weasley!" she seethed, hands clenching into fists as she threw punches to his back. "Let me down this instant, you arse!"
George smirked. "And you've got a pretty good view of my arse," he said, giving his bum a little wiggle.
"You bloody git!"
A string of profanities then escaped her lips and Hermione sent her a disapproving look as Ginny simply laughed.
"Well, run along then," said George. "I've got this."
Ten minutes later, Ginny raced excitedly down the steps into the Entrance Hall to meet a stammering Neville. Hermione, meanwhile, took her time descending the stairs, hand firmly holding the railing as she struggled with her new shoes. The crowd already gathered down in the hall looked up at her and pondered who the foreign face was before dropping their jaws in awe. This was a Hermione Granger they had never seen before.
She was wearing a gown made of a floaty periwinkle-blue material and black heels that added an inch to her height. Her usually untamed bushy hair was tied up into an elegant knot at the back of her head, and her smile, though rather nervous, was vibrant. Not a single person who set eyes on her could say anything negative, not even the Slytherins.
