Harry Potter and The Daughter of Sirius Black. [CedricxOc and DracoxOc]

Letters and The Weasley House.

Arista Gryffindor's point of view.

The summer had ended on a bitter note, and I found myself back in the familiar yet unwelcoming halls of Malfoy Manor. My uncle, who had been my guardian, had lost his right to care for me, and now I was left in the hands of Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa. My old room, down the hall from Draco's, felt smaller than I remembered. The air was heavy, and the walls seemed to close in as I stood there, sorting through my belongings.

A sudden breeze brushed against my pajamas, sending a shiver down my spine. I turned, but before I could react, Draco was already too close, his presence pressing against my back like a shadow. "You know, Ari," he drawled, his voice dripping with that smugness I'd come to realize was his heir persona, "if our arrangement had stuck, it wouldn't have been long before Father had us wed. And then..." He paused, letting the insinuation hang a bit.

"I'd have had my way with you." I rolled my eyes, elbowing him a bit to get some space. He only stepped back just enough for me to turn and face him. "Draco, why must you make that joke it's not funny," I snapped, my voice just barely containing my slight annoyance, he looked like he could barely contain his own amusement. He smirked, leaning over clutching his stomach as he fought off his laughter. I rolled my eyes at him. His sense of humor varied,

Some days his jokes were funny other times they left a lot to be desired. Today was one of them. "Because," he said, his voice cracking with laughter, "it's so funny." Rolling my eyes again, he calmed down and kissed my cheek in apology, "What are you wearing today?" he asked as he moved over to my closet. "I haven't decided yet," I told him as he rummaged though the clothing. 

"I'll find something for you, keep packing," he said and I did, returning to what I'd been doing when he came in. I turned back to my things, my fingers brushing over the stack of letters I'd been exchanging with Cedric and the others. The familiarity of his handwriting brought a small smile to my face. "How many did you two write?" Draco asked, his tone sounding more rhetorical than anything else.

"Probably more than you have written to your parents since first year," I said giving out my own joke and he chuckled. "Touché," he said. "Here wear this," he said setting the clothing he picked for me on my bed. As I was looking it over he noticed my casual clothing in the pile on the other side of my bed, "Do you plan on wearing these for the weekends at school?" he asked obviously picking on my sense of clothing taste, 

Or more like picking on my horrible coordination of clothing. It reminded me of simpler times, before the Triwizard Tournament had become a point of contention between us. Every student seventeen and older was eligible to compete, and the winner would be crowned champion, opening doors to opportunities after graduation. But the tournament was dangerous. The mortality rate was high, and the challenges changed every five years, 

No matter where it was hosted-Beauxbatons, Dumstrang, or Hogwarts. The thought of Cedric risking his life for glory made my stomach twist. Hermione had been buzzing about the Yule Ball, her excitement palpable. She'd gone on and on about how it was the most prestigious wizarding dance, and if it were held at Hogwarts this year, she'd wear the dress she'd bought over the summer. "Just in case," she'd said. 

I'd offered her one of my many dresses, but she'd refused, insisting she wanted to wear her own. Still, I planned to bring at least three options. Variety was key, after all. With my belongings shrunken down and packed into a single bag, I set it by the door and began preparing for the Quidditch World Cup. I'd be going with Ron and his family, and this year, I'd take the train with them. 

The thought of spending time with the Weasleys was a welcome distraction from the stifling atmosphere of the Manor. "Arista!" Aunt Narcissa's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. I opened my door and called back, "Yes?" "We have some errands to run. If you're not here when we return, we'll see you during the holidays!" Her tone was clipped, as always, but there was a hint of something else-relief, maybe, at the thought of me being gone. I didn't really know.