TWELVE | IT'S WINTERING NOW

          DECEMBER ALWAYS BROUGHT A PERMANENT DRAUGHT FLOWING THROUGH THE CASTLE WALLS. The cold air seeped into every crevice, you could feel it inside your bones. It didn't help that all the walls were made of stone—did wizards not know about insulation? They were on the brink of the first snow fall, Seline could sense it—any day now. Boy was she grateful for all the fires and candles that tried to thwart off the cold. The once green grounds were now covered in a sleet that thick, every morning Selines sneakers were left soggy by the time she trecked back from Care of Magical Creatures class—she could feel Flich's angry stare whenever she left mud on the castle floors (cleaning was his job, he should be grateful she'd given him something to fill his time with). Besides, she was the real victim; her white trainers were going to be completely ruined by the time spring rolled around.

Why Hagrid hadn't thought to teach them indoors during these conditions was a mystery to her. Down at the edge of the forbidden forest, right near his shabby hut the Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth years gathered around. A gale-like wind tore through the class and Seline regretted not wearing a beanie (she just wanted one last good hair day before winter truly rained down on them).

Seline looked side long at the magical horses belonging to the headmistress of Beauxbatons grazing in the paddock behind them. The trough was filled with a very peculiar drink of choice (for a house, anyways); fire whiskey. She's sure that's got to be some sort of animal abuse. But the horses didn't seem to mind as they loudly slurped down the liquor as Seline tried not to let the fumes clog up her nose. She could not afford to pass out in a class like this.

Her attention drifted back to Hagrid, who'd been standing at the front of the cohort talking away as he always did (never anything actually educational). The enormous man was dressed as shabbily as he normally was; an array of different furs were haphazardly stitched together to form his somehow oversized jacket. Seline could've sworn something was moving in the crevices of his matted beard. "I'm not sure if they hibernate or not," he told them and she heard Draco, beside her, make an annoyed noise at the back of his throat. "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip. . . We'll jus' settle 'em down in those boxes. . ."

No one jumped to volunteer. Seline thought it was absolutely atrocious that they were supposed to be getting graded by this moron. She loved a good bludge class as much as the next person but it was getting ridiculous. Just because she likes her neighbours cat doesn't mean she's a qualified vet—same goes for Hagrid. As much as she hated the skrewts, they still deserved to be looked after properly. It wasn't fair on them and it wasn't fair on the class.

There were only ten of the bastards left now, anyways. Between every lesson, there'd been a fight to the death and only the strongest skrewts remained (she couldn't wait to find out which one out lasted them all). They'd all grown to be at least six foot by now, which was horrifying in itself. Not to mention their thick grey armour, their powerful, scuttling legs, their fire-blasting ends, their stings and their suckers. Seline would take the dragon Potter fought over these bloody abominations. Shoulders slumped across the group as Hagrid dragged out enormous boxes lined with pillows and fluffy blankets (almost nicer then the ones provided in the dorms!). No one has any desire to tuck them in for their nap.

"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid said loudly when no one reacted, "'an put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

Seline and Pansy exchanged looks, eyebrows high. He's got to be joking. Hesitantly, they worked together with Wayne (i.e. made him do all the work) to force one of the retched creatures inside the box.

"Is it supposed to be making that sound?" Pansy asked. She'd been at one end while Seline had been at the other, holding the lid shut as Wayne nailed the box shut with a hammer was held together by duck tape. It'd been a struggle to get the lid down at all with how much the creature had struggled against them. A gurgling sound then, followed by high pitched scream and a sizzling smell made them all jump back from the crate. Wayne pulled Seline against him as the skrewt broke free and started rampaging through the class—the box was nothing bush ashes. Soon enough all the skrewts had broken free and chaos ensued.

"Fuck this," Wayne muttered, grabbing Selines hand and following the majority of their class through the back door of Hagrids dingy hut. Crabbe, Goyle and Draco got to work at piling random objects in front of the door in hopes the skrewts didn't bust it don't.

"This is getting ridiculous," Seline grumbled, taking a cautious seat at Hagrids dining table. "Shouldn't face near death every lesson, why can't we study normal creatures?"

"Dumbledore must get a kick out of endangering his students," Draco scoffed, riffling through Hagrid's drawers. He wasn't expecting to find anything impressive in this dump but he was nosy.

Nicolette huffed. "He needs to be sacked," she said and everyone nodded in agreement. It'd been the first thing her and Seline had agreed on in months.

Blaise, who'd been standing by the window watching the chaos outside shouted, "looks like Weasleys caught one—oh, never mind."

"Bloody Weasley."

And to think, Seline could've been going to a fancy private school up North but instead she'd been marked as a witch. She could've been playing croquet and riding horses but here she was locked in an (alleged) half-giants hut. She remembers how cute the uniform was going to be, even. Her eyes landed on Wayne, who'd been looking over Blaises shoulder out the window and sighed. At least it wasn't all bad.

And then Draco had to open his big mouth and complain again.

          WITH ALL THE FURNITURE PUSHED TO THE SIDE, SELINE HAD NEVER REALISED JUST HOW BIG THE SLYTHERIN COMMON ROOM WAS. Couches, chairs and coffee tables were all piled up against the wall and in the centre of it all was head of house, Severus Snape. He held a weathered looking piece of parchment and a very unimpressed look. Seline was sure he must've washed his hair this week as he was looking slightly less greasy then usual but extra annoyed (maybe his hair hadn't set correctly). Around him, all the students had crowded against the walls—it was like a really tragic mosh pit. (Seline wondered if Snape had ever been to a night club but, looking at his long nose and translucent skin she couldn't imagine him doing anything fun—even when he was young.)

"Do we know what this is all about?" Seline whispered to Pansy, resting her elbow on an upturned chair. The only briefing they'd been given was to wear comfortable shoes. Seline's hair had been in high pig tails with thin green ribbons holding it up, Wayne had made it known that he absolutely adored that hairstyle on her. It was a lot of effort to do, however, so, she didn't think she'd do it again for a while.

Pansy shrugged. "Not in the slightest," she said shortly, not looking at the brunette. Her own hair had been pulled into a very tight, head ache inducing ponytail. It must've been magically enchanted to stay in place because no normal hair gel would have that type of longevity.

"Susan Bones told me in Herbology that Hufflepuff is also having a meeting," Daphne told them, leaning over. She had clearly not got the comfortable shoes memo, Seline thought as she stared down at her shining mary-jane's. They'd not even been worn in properly yet.

Millicent nodded enthusiastically, "yeah and my cousin from Ravenclaw said they are as well."

Seline looked past her friends to Snape, who'd been overseeing two of the prefects carrying in an easel with a sheet over the top to the centre of the room. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figures out what on earth could be under there.

Suddenly, Snape cleared his throat loudly and all the chatter seized immediately—they all knew first hand not to talk over him. After a moment, Snape lifted the parchment to his eye level and began speaking in his usual monotone, "I have been instructed to inform you all that The Yule Ball, a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament is soon. . . approaching," he looked up to make sure everyone was paying attention and it became evident that he was reading a script not written by him. "The Yule Ball is a. . . splendid opportunity for you all to socialise with our foreign guests," it was also evident he was fighting off an eye roll. "The event is open to fourth years and above but you're welcome to invite younger students if you so. . . insist." His eyes scanned the sea of students in green in disgust.

The quartet of girls immediately exchanged excited looks, the ideas raging through their mind. It was perfect that this weekend aligned with another Hogsmeade visit. Seline was going to have to beg her parents for an advance on her allowance so she could buy the most perfect dress. Colours, necklines and materials started counting around in her mind—

"Yes, yes, how exciting," he drawled, rolling his eyes for real this time. "Now, as to not embarrass yourselves in front of the entire international wizarding community, we heads of houses have been. . . instructed to teach you all a simple waltz." If looks could kill, Snape would have murdered every single student who'd smirked at the implications of Snape leading a dance class. Before chatter and mocking could completely break out, Snape dramatically ripped the sheet off of the easel. A man and a woman, dressed in regency era attire stand in the middle of the painting looking shell-shocked by the sudden light piercing at them. They seem to be standing inside a ball room with a fancy glass chandelier. "I value my dignity so Juan and Maria will be teaching you instead."

"Oh, bloody hell," Wayne mumbled under his breath, rolling his sleeves up.

Juan immediately jumped into the lesson, clapping his hands together aggressively and demanding they all find a partner immediately before forming rows. It may have been his accent but chaos ensued as everyone scrambled to grab someone from the opposite gender. Instinctively, Wayne had yanked Selines hand and slipped next to Draco and Pansy in the front row (not her ideal placement). She was thankful she hadn't needed to scramble to find someone.

As soon as a majority of the students were partnered up, Juan told them there was no time to be wasted and demonstrated how they were all supposed to grab each other. Classical music began playing and the lesson began.

Wayne, clearly already knowing how to do the dance, manually placed one of Seline's hands on his shoulder and held her other firmly while holding her waist. She didn't really enjoy being lead. "Step—one, two three, four!" Juan called out, guiding Maria with him. He did not give her much time to look over at what their water colour instructors were doing as he'd taken it upon himself to drag her through the dance. She'd essentially gone into autopilot for the fifteen minutes they cycled through the dance again and again.

Beside them, she heard constant bickering between Draco and Pansy as she continued to mess up the steps. "God, how did you go all these years without your parents teaching you this?" Draco snapped, nursing his foot that'd been trampled for the tenth time.

Pansy raised her hands defensively. "This exact reason," she snapped back at him. The colour of her cheeks had changed to a dark pink.

Seline was grateful, she supposed, that she was a natural learner and Wayne seemed to have a-lot of practice. "You're doing great," he said into her ear, lingering long enough to send a shiver down her spine. She pulled back enough that she could watch their footwork closely and understand exactly what she was supposed to be doing.

Suddenly the music cut out. "Alright, you're now swapping partners with the person beside you," Juan snapped, twirling Maria off the page for dramatic effect and reappearing with another partner, "otherwise you will not improve. Chop, chop!" For a painting, he could sure make a lot of ruckus.

Seline saw the eyes roll into the back of Wayne's head in annoyance as Draco tapped him on the shoulder. "She's all yours, mate," he muttered, trying to fix his shoe that Pansy had managed to bend in an uncomfortable direction. Pansy, red faced, gave Wayne a sheepish smile as he dragged his feet towards her, sending a longing look over his shoulder at Seline who was already staring Draco down.

Seline gave Draco an apprehensive look as he held his hand out for her. "What if I wanted to swap with the people on the other side of us?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You want to dance with Crabbe?" Next to them, Crabbe and Millicent had started arguing over who was going to lead.

The thought of Crabbe putting his hands on her sent shivers down her spine. "Well, no," she grumbled, finally accepting his hand and placing her hand on his shoulder. The ghost of his hand rested on her waist as Juan began shouting instructions once again and the music started again, more intense then before. While Draco, being the more experienced dancer, still lead the dance, Seline didn't feel as though she was his personal rag doll. Their movements were slower, more rhythmic and less forceful.

Seline looked up from their feet to see a small smile being worn by Draco as he watched her. It made her stomach feel watery and she quickly looked back down. She hated that she enjoyed Draco Malfoys smile, it was supposed to repulse her (the idea of it still did). "For someone who hates me, you're always around," Seline grumbled as they moved through the dance a lot slower then she had with Wayne.

"I don't hate you, Seline," Draco sighed, looking over her head rather then down at her.

"Bollocks, you've been calling me a slur since we were eleven," she snapped, glaring up at his chin. The smile that'd once been was replaced with the signature Draco Malfoy scowl. Shocker.

Draco looked down at her finally, his eyes swarming with a plethora of words he couldn't quite let escape his mind. Besides, he's not sure Wayne would appreciate his honestly. "That's not personal to you. . . it's just what I was taught. The more I get to know you, the more I—"

The nerve he must've had to start his sentence of with an excuse as pathetic as 'it's not personal' made Seline want to hex him into the next century. Instead, she started listing things she could see, feel, smell and hear in her head to calm down. "I didn't ask," she said firmly, looking back down at their feet. "Let's just. . . be good at this in silence."

Draco obliged. He seemed to always be walking on thin ice around Seline Winchester and he wished for nothing but sturdy ground for once. It seemed every-time she spoke to him, she'd say something radical that'd send him into a spiral of overthinking his family values and everything he'd learnt about the wizarding world. How could someone like Seline Winchester exist? She went against everything he'd been taught about those born of muggle parents. She'd never held him down and tried to steal his magic nor was she any real harm to anyone's education. She wasn't obnoxious like Hermione Granger or brain dead like that Collin Creevey kid. She was just Seline. He'd never met someone that fit the Slytherin mould so perfect yet, she was everything he'd been taught the house of green and silver went against. The more time he seemed to spend around the brunette, the bigger of a headache his mind turned into. He knew what his aunt Bellatrix might say.

"And swap back!"

Before Draco could get out his lame excuse, Wayne's hands were basically ripping her free from Draco. "That was torturous," Wayne grunted, pulling her flush against him by the small of her back.

Once again, he started dragging her along through the dance and she swallowed a sigh. "Totally." Her eyes flickered to Draco and Pansy, who'd started bickering again except it was clear Draco's heart wasn't in it this time. With her back to Seline, Pansy ranted about what they needed to do while Draco looked blankly past her at, well, Seline (the audacity!).

IT HAD BEEN A GIVEN, APPARENTLY, THAT WAYNE WAS SELINES DATE TO THE YULE BALL. Information that, frankly, she'd wished she'd been explicitly informed on, thank you very much. Boyfriend, girlfriend her ass—she still expected him to ask her rather then assume. Teen romance was supposed to be about the boy constantly trying to woo the girl, not casually ask her what colour corsage she wanted on a random evening. Flowers, chocolates, cards, mixtapes; where was the effort movies had promised her?

Wayne hadn't seemed to understand why she'd remained annoyed up until the dance. Obviously she'd agreed to go with him (realistically who else if not him?) but she wasn't very happy about it. The bouquet of red roses resting on Pansy's bedside table were a constant reminder to her that even Draco Malfoy knew how to ask a girl he didn't like to a dance properly.

The Slytherin fourth year girls dorm was complete and utter chaos from the second the sun rose on Christmas Day. Not going home for Christmas had been a strange feeling for Seline; no secret santa with her muggle friends, no soppy Christmas films with her cousins or watching her mother attempt to cook the roast while her grandmother secretly took over. She wouldn't go so far as to say she felt melancholic about missing out, more nostalgic of what had been on past years. Besides, the older she got, the more the magic of Christmas seemed to fade. Her childhood felt less like home and more like a place she watched another girl know long ago.

The stack of neatly wrapped presents balanced on her chest at the end of her bed was the first thing she laid eyes on when she woke up. Looking around, her roommates started to stir and get stuck into their own gifts. Squealing to herself, she tore open the smaller gifts first. Her grandmother had written her a poem to go along with the pearl earrings she'd passed down to her—Seline stared at the faded box in awe before immediately slipping them on. Her parents had sent a box with some practical presents; new quills, refills of her toiletries, socks, a sweater and a new book bag. She was underwhelmed until she opened the box with Prada sunglasses and Micheal Jackson tickets. Everyone was confused when she started screaming in excitement (how did wizards not know who Michael Jackson was?). Pansy, Millicent and Daphne gave her small trinkets they'd picked up on Hogsmead visits which left three boxes left. One was unlabelled and she opened to find a silver, diamond encrusted necklace with a rose-shaped charm dangling from it. She looked at it in awe while Pansy examined the packaging, trying to help figure out who it was from.

"Maybe Wayne got you two things—open his next."

The present from him came in a bigger box which excited her. She threw the tissue paper into the sea of wrapping that coated their floors. The sound of glass made her eyes widen as she shook the box, trying to find ab opening. Low and behold, Wayne had bought her a teapot that looked like it belonged on top a widows mantle.

So you have something to remember our first date by.
— Wayne

"That's sweet," Millicent said, examining the intricate floral pattern that danced across the thing. Tiny flowers and swirls coated every last surface of the heavy teapot. Sweet isn't what Seline would use to describe it, she thought as she slipped the necklace around her neck.

The last gift was from Denika which made her feel less embarrassed about the present she had hiding under her bed for her sister. A disposable camera and the butterfly clips she'd eyed off at a store months ago. Seline inhaled deeply, knowing she was going to have to track down her bloody sister at breakfast which meant one thing: Gryffindor table.

Of course her friends refused to come with her to do the dreaded walk of shame. The brunette spotted the younger girl almost instantly when she entered the sea of kids still wearing their festive pyjamas. Why had Gryffindor table needed to be on the complete other side and why had Denika chosen to sit right in the middle with ginger number seven by her side. Sending Pansy one last pleading look that was promptly ignored, she stalked over to the loudest table in the hall.

Harry Potter, looking like he'd not even showered, sat down on the other side of Seline's sister and a pit formed in her stomach as she got closer. Her grip tightened on the small package and her legs got heavier. As she approached, Ginny Weasley looked up and scowled at her before nudging Denika. Wide-eyed and confused, the girl stood up instinctively and tried to form a nervous smile.

Seline stopped a meter out from the table and those around them stopped to stare (she wanted to hex them all). "Hey," she said hoarsely, pointedly looking at Denika only.

"Hi," Denika replied, not moving.

Seline took another deep breathe. "Merry Christmas."

"Yeah, Merry Christmas," Denika mumbled, nodding her head up and down until she gave herself a headache. Beside her, still sitting down, Harry looked back and fourth between the sisters as he tried to gauge how this interaction was about to go. He'd seen up close how ruthless the sisters could be towards each other and he cared about Denika too much to see her go through that on Christmas day. "Is. . . is that for me. . .?" Denika asked after a moment, nodding at the present Seline was holding.

"Oh um yes, it is," she said quickly, taking another step forward to hand the package over the table. She pretended like her arms weren't shaking a little as the gift was extracted from her grip.

Denika inspected the wrapping for a moment before looking up at her sister again. "What did mum and dad get you?"

A small smile crept its way on to Seline's face as she gave a small shrug. "Quills, moisturiser, socks, a bag, a sweater, Prada sunglasses—" Denika gasped, "and two Michael Jackson tickets!"

"You're joking?" Came Hermione Grangers shrill voice. Even Harry Potter looked stunned at the present while red-head asked who that was.

Denika and Seline ignored them. "But mum hates his music and my friends back home said you had to camp for days just to buy tickets," the brunette rambled excitedly. "How many did you get?"

"Just two," Seline told her slowly, watching carefully for her reaction.

She watched as Denika's shoulders sagged in realisation and the spark went out in her eyes. "Oh, right," she whispered. "I'd assume you're taking your new boyfriend. . . ?"

Seline scoffed, she wasn't going to ask where her sister found out about her boyfriend. "Wayne doesn't know the entire Thriller choreography."

Pride was a silly thing, Seline would come to learn. Human beings liked to build things up in their heads, dogpiling things up and up until the root was buried so deep it wasn't worth fixing. Pride was a bright blinding light that people could hide behind and ignore their own faults. Some people happily threw good things away because they couldn't see past their own pride and ego. They'd rather build a fortress of false superiority to look down at those they deemed wronged them. Sometimes we needed to take to pride with a sledgehammer.

🌸 KARLA RAMBLES 🌸

a BIG thank you superpink24 for helping me brainstorm the dancing lesson idea lol. yes i know it doesn't technically exist in the books but it's fun so idc.

this chapter was supposed to be one big chapter with the next one but i decided to split it in half

who bought the necklace? 🤔💭

@QUICKSILVRS | 2024