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"Malfoy didn't come," Harry realises, and then, instantly regrets speaking. Hermione and Ron look at him with barely concealed worry. "I mean," he hurried to clarify, "Malfoy didn't come to our compartment. He usually does. It's - "
Tradition?
"Better off," Ron says, shrugging. "I wouldn't mind not seeing his pointy face ever again."
Harry laughs, before Hermione shushes him for the Sorting.
It's strange now that they're in their Fifth Year, seeing First Years huddled together like that, looking nervous and scared, like their lives are about to be decided.
The Sorting Hat's song is ominous. Harry tries not to focus on it.
The first girl's a Ravenclaw, the second is a Hufflepuff, third is a Slytherin.
(It's a wonder Harry doesn't spot
her
before McGonagall calls her name.)
"Malfoy, Aquila!" Mcgonagall says, and Harry startles, and stares, as Ron's jaw drops open next to him. Hermione’s eyebrows rise steadily, as almost half the school turns to see Malfoy, who's looking at the girl, intent, eyes narrowed.
"Bloody hell," Ron whistles, low.
"Girl
Malfoy."
"They could be twins," Hermione says, and Harry agrees.
The girl's hair are the same, distinctive shade of white platinum-blonde, her eyes the same flashing grey. Her mouth pulls into a slight smirk when she walks, her chin high, and Harry has no problem reconciling this image with Draco Malfoy at eleven. Hell, even now.
Aquila Malfoy sits on the stool, and McGonagall drops the Hat on her head.
"Gryffindor!"
the Hat yells, without even a pause, barely having touched her head, and all the images in Harry’s head shatter.
There's an eerie, immediate, pin-drop silence.
Harry sees Dumbledore lean forward, looking amused, McGonagall looks surprised, too. There's angry hissing from the Slytherin table, a few laughs from the other sides.
Bizarrely, it's Draco Malfoy who claps first.
The Slytherins follow him, and slowly, so do the Gryffindors.
"Potter," Malfoy calls, as soon as Supper is over, and Harry sighs, turning and bracing himself for more crap.
After Umbridge’s stupid speech, though, Harry's almost sure he can't feel worse.
"What," Harry asks, slightly surprised when he realises there's nobody with him. Crabbe and Goyle are easily visible at the entrance, looking uncomfortable.
"My sister," Malfoy says, and even those words sound odd on his tongue. "...don't- don’t treat her...like my sister."
"What," Harry blinks.
Malfoy huffs. "Whatever mutual hatred we share, keep that between us. Don't bring Aquila into this. Understood?"
"I-
of course,
Malfoy!" Harry snaps, back.
"Well," he looks distinctly annoyed now. "I don't know how things work in gryffindor. If you had a sister in Slytherin, rest assured, she would be needing this."
"We're obviously not like you, then," Harry says, starting to walk.
"Potter," Malfoy calls behind him. "Say goodnight to her by me, will you?"
Harry passes him a bewildered look, before shaking his head and walking on.
"Alright, Malfoy," he nods.
Harry doesn't turn back, but he can distinctly sense Malfoy grinning behind him.
Harry's not actually going to go to the First year girl's dormitory to pass Malfoy's message. Luckily (or unluckily), he doesn't need to.
The first years are still outside, around ten of them, and all of them are gathered around Aquila Malfoy, who's standing at the window.
Harry feels irrationally and
immensely
annoyed.
"- are you sure?" one of the girls is asking her, looking worried. "Won't your parents be upset?"
"Draco will talk to them," Aquila shrugs.
Draco,
Harry thinks, even more irritated. "I just need to break the news."
Harry wonders what he should call her.
Malfoy? Aquila? My arch enemy's baby sister?
He doesn't need to, though. Aquila Malfoy spots him before that.
"Harry Potter!" she sings, grinning and looking so ridiculously similar
and
different from her brother, at the same time, that Harry has to resist the urge to flee. "You look like you're looking for me."
Does he?
What the fuck does that even mean?
"Er," Harry clears his throat, thoroughly confused. "Malfoy- your...
brother
says goodnight."
"What a sap," Aquila says, fondly. Harry blinks. "Anyhow. I thought you hated each other or some such."
"We do," Harry replies, automatically.
"You do," she echoes, flatly, unimpressed. For a first year, she's certainly less shy than he would prefer her to be.
Harry turns to go to his own dormitory, before turning back. Aquila looks like she expected him to do that. She's standing, arms crossed, smug smile.
"What do you mean you thought we hated each other?" Harry asks, not-so-casually. "Does Malfoy talk a lot about me, then?"
Aquila grins.
"Oh yeah," she agrees, breezily, sounding delighted. "All the time. Sometimes even in his sleep."
Harry doesn't know what to feel about
that.
There's silence on the breakfast table. Blaise's mother's owl comes flying, which seems to snap them all into action.
Draco raises a hand and waves as Aquila enters the Great Hall. She's grinning, an arm around another girl's shoulders, her red and gold tie very,
very
visible.
"She's a Gryffindor," Pansy reminds him, looking uncomfortable.
There's a pause.
"She's a
Malfoy,
" Draco tells her, firmly.
"She's a blood traitor," Theo spits.
"Just like your dead mother," Draco snaps.
Blaise Zabini laughs, his eyes still on his mother's letter, scanning through the parchment quickly. "And my sixth stepfather."
"He's dead already?" Pansy asks, curiously. "Or just a blood traitor?"
"Mother has plans," Blaise says, which is hardly an answer.
"Hey, Pott- Harry!"
Harry blinks and turns. Aquila (it's easier to think of her as a rogue first year gryffindor than
Malfoy's
sister) is standing, usual, lazy smile on her face.
"Yes?" he asks, slowly.
"I need your help with something," she tells him, without preamble, and before he knows it, she's grabbed his wrist and she's pulling him along.
"What the hell- "
"Just come on," she tsks, like
he's
the one being difficult, and pulls him, all the way to the Quidditch Pitch. Harry’s already dreading what's coming.
"I want to be a Keeper," Aquila says.
"For Gryffindor?" Harry asks, stupidly, before shaking his head. "I mean- what- you're just a first year, though."
It's the wrong thing to say.
"You got on the team
your
first year," Aquila reminds him, with an indulgent smile. "And don't even deny it, Draco whinged about it for months."
That almost makes Harry smile. But -
"Right, look, those were," Harry sighs, "different circumstances- "
"Just watch me play Keeper once," she says, and it sounds a tad bit like a request. "Just give me one chance."
"I-I can't," Harry huffs when he sees her
really?
expression. "Fine. But we'll have to do it very early in the morning. Or we can get into- "
"Yeah, yeah," Aquila nods vigorously. "Does four in the morning work for you?"
Her legs are moving like she's going to jump up and down.
"Uh," Harry blinks. "I was thinking...six?"
"Lazy," she shrugs. "But fine."
The worst part is :
Draco
Malfoy's also there at six in the fucking morning.
"I don't remember inviting you," Harry scowls at him, and he scowls right back. "And I certainly didn't tell Aquila that it's fine for
you
to come - "
"Oh, get over yourself, Potter," Malfoy snaps. He's sitting on the stands, wearing what Harry thinks might be the fanciest "night-robes" ever, holding an actual book in his hands. "I just want to see her play."
"Draco!" Aquila calls from the hoops, diving upside down. She's probably showing off. She seems to be enjoying it, though.
"Can we just start, Harry?" Demelza Robins yells, sounding cross. "You called us out so early for chaser practice without even telling Angelina, and you're not even - "
"Sorry, sorry," Harry shoots Malfoy a last glare, before flying towards the hoops.
Harry was wrong, he realises, soon.
No, the absolute worst part isn't that Draco’s there.
The absolute worst part is : Aquila Malfoy is
easily
the best Keeper that Harry’s ever seen. She blocks everything, every single fucking shot, doesn't let a single Quaffle in. She looks tiny, in front of the goalposts, but she flies like a pixie hopped up on too much sugar, mad and quick.
She. Blocks. Every. Single. Quaffle.
She's still a First Year.
(Harry wants to punch the smug look off Draco Malfoy's face, even as he calls off the practice and tells Aquila that he'll talk to McGonagall.)
When he's leaving the pitch, he's sure that he sees Draco kiss Aquila on the forehead, like some kind of caring, older brother or whatever, like he's a nice person which he's so
not,
by the way, and Harry just wants to
push him off the stands.
"Well, atleast one Malfoy has talent," Harry can't help but say.
Aquila is the only one who laughs.
GALLONS OF GALLEONS!
Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? Like to earn a little extra gold?
Contact Fred and George Weasley,
Gryffindor common room,
for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs
WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANT’S OWN RISK
Harry stares at the poster, and then, at Aquila, who's standing and eagerly trying everything Fred and George give her. The puking and the purpling of her face hasn't stopped her, which is slightly alarming. (And rather impressive.)
Hermione looks uncomfortable, like she doesn't know if she should stop them or not.
"I'm buying like," Aquila clears her throat, face literally green. "Ten of these ones."
Fred and George seem delighted.
Harry sulks all the way to detention.
Everything's been getting on his nerves lately, Malfoy, Umbridge (she's getting on everyone's), Malfoy, Ron and Hermione’s constant worry for Harry and did he mention
Malfoy?
When he knocks on Umbridge’s office, she isn't alone.
Aquila's sitting there, too, holding a quill and paper, looking bored as she swings her legs.
She perks up when she sees him.
"What're
you
here for?" Harry asks.
Aquila laughs, which is alarming.
"Hem, hem," Harry shuts his eyes and turns to the voice. Umbridge is smiling, eyes bulging.
"Hem, hem," Aquila imitates right back. Harry stares at her.
"I- excuse me?" Umbridge manages, finally, slowly turning red.
"And me," Aquila nods.
"I
coughed, too."
Harry has to duck his head to not laugh.
"Miss Malfoy," Umbridge glares. "I highly suggest you don't - "
"Suggestion denied," Aquila declares, turning her nose up, sounding exactly like her brother.
Umbridge glares at her for a moment, and then, tells them what they have to do for detention, hands them quills, tells them something about messages sinking in, guilt setting in etc, and goes out.
Aquila looks at the quill very suspiciously.
Harry writes a sentence with it, and-
oh fucking fuck, really?
"Oh," Aquila breathes, looking awed. "Blood quills!"
Harry pulls a face, starts to write another line, except Aquila pulls his hand back.
When he turns to her, she's looking at him incredulously.
"Are you mad?" she asks, sounding genuinely curious. "Or do you just have a pain kink?"
Harry stares at her. Then,
"You-you're
eleven!"
he sputters. "How do you even know what- "
"I snoop around Draco’s room a lot," she tells him, looking shamelessly proud of that fact. (Harry doesn't need
those
mental images about Malfoy, by the way.) "Anyway, the point is. These
must
be illegal. I wouldn't write with them."
"And er," Harry frowns, "what exactly are you planning on telling Umbridge when she's back?"
"Eh," Aquila shrugs.
In for a knut,
Harry thinks,
in for a galleon.
("Miss Malfoy, Mr. Potter," Umbridge is sort of fuming. "Why haven't you both - "
"Before you go any further," Aquila says, primly, "let me tell you. My father will hear about this."
Harry groans.)
It seems to work, atleast.
Umbridge tells them to use normal quills for the lines.
I must not tell lies,
Harry writes, and glances down at Aquila's parchment.
She's written,
I must keep my legs to myself.
"Erm," Harry blinks. "That seems. Inappropriate. And er. Sexist?"
"Oh, no, no," Aquila dismisses. "It's literal. I tripped her."
"You
tripped
- ?"
"Fucking idiot, right?"
Aquila scoffs. Harry doesn't dwell on her language. "She totally fell for it."
He blinks.
"See what I did there?" she says, smiling.
"Aquila!" Draco Malfoy finds them when they're leaving Umbridge’s office. He looks annoyed, which automatically makes Harry feel better. "What did you do? Why were you in detention?"
"He's such a dork," Aquila mutters, to Harry. "Nerd. Fucking Prefect. Thinks he knows everything.
Ew."
"Honestly," Malfoy nears them, sounding too much like Hermione. "I can't keep clearing up your mess - "
"He can't even clean up his own," Aquila rolls her eyes. Harry has a strong feeling that she isn't talking about the type of mess Malfoy's talking about.
" - and today's like the third time mother's floo-called me," he continues. "In
four
days!"
"Loser," Aquila rolls her eyes. Malfoy probably heard her, this time. He ignores it. "Just stop receiving the calls, oh dear brother of mine."
"I can't do that," Malfoy looks appalled, and then, blinks at Harry, seemingly seeing him for the first time. "What're you staring at, Potter?"
"You, of course," Aquila replies, easily, and smiles, like the little gremlin she is. "Harry’s always staring at you."
"Wh-what- what's that supposed to mean - " Harry protests.
"Since when do you call him
Harry?"
Malfoy squawks, disgusted.
"I do not stare at him!"
"Don’t call him Harry - "
"Why would I stare a-at-
Malfoy?"
Harry’s face is probably red.
"Are you
friends!?"
Malfoy sounds like he's never even heard of the word.
"I don't stare at him! Or look! I've never even looked at him! Ever! Why would I - !"
"I have to say," Aquila's eyes dart between them both. "I thought this would be interesting. But it's just boring."
Draco and Harry glare at her and then at each other.
"Don’t worry, by the way, Harry," Aquila calls, as she's walking away, shit-eating grin on her face. "Draco always stares back!"
She disappears around the bend.
"She is the
worst
eleven year old in the world," Draco growls, when she's gone.
"Agreed," Harry says, idly.
"How fucking dare you?" Malfoy snaps back, abruptly. "Don’t talk shit about my sister."
"I-you- " Harry recoils a bit. Malfoy looks murderous.
"Yeah, only
I
can say that," he bites out. "Aquila is brillant, alright?"
Harry just wants one, single break.
"Well, she's better than you, at any rate," Harry grumbles.
"...so, if you'd like to...I mean?" Cho's looking at Harry expectantly,
hopefully,
and Harry’s literally never been so confused.
"He wouldn't," an irritated voice says from the side.
It's unfortunately, (and obviously) Aquila.
"He wouldn't like to go with you," Aquila says, rather bluntly. Cho frowns at her, and she's opening her mouth to speak, but Aquila interrupts, "and let's be honest. You don't want to go with Harry Potter either. He's scrawny and stupid, and he still hasn't understood that you've asked him out thrice. In a five minute conversation."
"Hey," Harry protests, before his brain registers the rest of Aquila's sentence. "Wait, what- "
"See?" Aquila shakes her head, and Cho's starting to grimace, in the
well, maybe you're right
kind of way. "He's slow."
"Yeah, he really is," Cho agrees. Harry feels mortified.
"You know who
isn't
slow?" Aquila gives her a conspiring smile, leans towards her, and whispers something in her ear.
Cho turns red faster than Harry would believe possible.
"Really?" Cho asks, narrowing her eyes at Aquila. "Her? You're sure?"
"Won't know till you try, will you?" Aquila grins, and whispers something else in Cho's ear.
"Merlin, you're a
first
year," Cho hisses, clearly biting back a smile.
Sirius gets Harry’s letter, and it's worrying. Sirius really,
really
wishes he could just walk out of this stupid house. He waits to talk to Harry, keeps popping up in the gryffindor common room fireplace, every hour or so, just for a few seconds to check if Harry’s around. It's a risk, but Sirius is sure he'll see Harry soon.
He's seen by someone else before that.
"Ha! HA! I KNEW IT!" the probably first year girl shouts, when he comes up in the fireplace at around seven. Sirius is just about to duck out, disappointed, but she lowers her voice to a whisper, glancing around. "No, wait, stop, I just want to talk- "
What a strange girl.
Sirius extinguishes the fire from his side, cursing his luck.
He wonders if he should put it off until tomorrow, but then he can't sleep knowing about Harry’s scar and so, he waits and waits and waits -
It's midnight by the time he tries again.
She's still there.
Fucking hell -
"Wait, wait! Stop! Please don't go, wait! I know you're innocent!"
Sirius freezes, even though he knows he shouldn't.
"I really do," she whispers, smiling excitedly and crawling over to the fireplace. Sirius edges away until he's sure she can't reach even she tried. She's tiny, anyway, blonde hair in pigtails, wide, grey eyes-
Hang on. Those hair?
"You're Narcissa's daughter," he guesses, realising it's true even as he says it.
Fuck, he really needs to leave.
"Yeah!" she whispers. "I'm Aquila. And I just wanted you to know, I think you're amazing!"
Sirius blinks at her.
"I sneaked into mother's pensieve," she explains, and
what the hell even is Sirius doing still talking to her?
"And I saw you, when you were a kid. You were so cool. You're my hero, you know!"
"Don’t do that to yourself," Sirius really feels the need to tell her.
"Don’t tell me what to do," she says, in a mocking imitation of his voice.
"But what if you’d been seen?" Harry asks, anxiously. "So many people keep crossing the fireplace. It
is
in the common room."
“Well, I think a girl- first year by the look of her- might’ve got a glimpse of me earlier, but don’t worry,” Sirius lies, rather hastily, as Harry’s friend, Hermione, claps a hand to her mouth. “I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I’ll bet she just thought I was an oddly shaped log or something."
She so didn't,
Sirius thinks, guiltily.
She's hiding right behind that couch. I can still see her hair popping out.
They talk, about Hagrid and Umbridge, and Sirius can feel Harry lightening up. Which is nice.
"When’s your next Hogsmeade weekend anyway?" Sirius asks, "I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn’t we? I thought I could - "
"No!" Harry and Hermione say, together.
“Sirius, didn’t you see the Daily Prophet?” Hermione says anxiously.
“Oh that,” Sirius grins, "they’re always guessing where I am, they haven’t really got a clue - "
“Yeah, but we think this time they have,” Harry says. “Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius - "
"Coward!"
This is literally the
worst
time she could have revealed herself. Sirius wants to sit down and cry.
Harry and Hermione both scream when Aquila Malfoy stands up from behind the sofa, looking annoyed.
"Coward," she says, accusingly, to Harry. "I can't believe he wants to meet you and he's stuck somewhere he doesn't want to be, and you won't even- "
"What the literal fuck- " Harry's panicking. Hermione’s pulling out her wand.
"My father won't be there in Hogsmeade, you know," Aquila says, rolling her eyes. "I don't even know why you'd act like such a- "
Hermione points her wand at Aquila.
"Don’t!" Sirius says, before he can think any better of it.
Both Harry and Hermione turn to him, thoroughly confused.
"Er," Sirius blinks.
Hogsmeade is nice, atleast.
"Is
that
him?" she's pointing at a brown stray dog.
"No," Ron says.
"That one?" Aquila points at a white, fluffy dog, walking alongside a lady in a large hat.
"Fuck no," Harry
supplies, dryly.
"That must be him!"
"That's a cat," Hermione grumbles.
"Well, it's big," she says, defensively.
They find Padfoot outside the Three Broomsticks, wagging his tail. Harry wants to hug him.
Aquila hugs him, though.
"He looks like the Grim!" she says, excitedly.
They take a tiny room above some dingy pub, put as many Silencing and Locking Charms as they can think of, and Sirius turns, smiling and wrapping his arms around Harry.
Aquila sits by quietly as they all talk, and Harry’s so very glad that they listened to them.
Sirius seems happier, and Harry feels so much better. There's something about Sirius's direct presence that calms him down.
"If I hear a hint of this going out, to anyone," Hermione warns, when they're coming back to the castle. "First year or no, I'll make you
regret
it."
"I took a vow, didn't I?" Aquila scowls.
She had, indeed. An Unbreakable Vow of Silence that wouldn't let her talk about Sirius, or their contact with him.
"You did," Hermione agrees, still glaring. "But I'll decide if that's enough."
Aquila stares at her, completely unconcerned.
"You remind me of my mother, you know," she says, finally, and Hermione blinks, going pink.