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Fawkes flashed into the Great Hall in a burst of flames, drawing Hadrianna Potter’s attention away from Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who were making ridiculously sappy faces at each other. Hadrianna Potter was happy for them, truly, but seeing how happy they were only made her feel more alone. She didn’t have anyone, had never had anyone.
Voldemort had been much too obsessed, offering her a place at his side more than once. She wasn’t going to paint a target on anyone’s back, so she did her best not to notice any of the guys who wanted to date her.
The Sorting Hat was clutched in Fawkes’s talons, and Hadrianna flashed back to second year and the Chamber of Secrets. The last time she had seen the two together, she had been given the Sword of Gryffindor and fought a basilisk. The war was over now, so what possible reason could Fawkes have to be in possession of the Sorting Hat? The Sorting had been performed the night before, so it wasn’t needed for the ickle firsties.
Fawkes glided across the hall on wings of fire, circled the Hufflepuff table, and then swooped down and dropped the hat on top of Zacharias Smith’s head. The brim of the hat moved, but no words echoed through the now silent Great Hall. Zach looked as stunned as she felt, and she wondered if her friend knew why the Sorting Hat had been brought to him. It didn’t look like it.
Then understanding swamped his face. All right, so maybe Zach did know why this was happening, after all. He reached up and pulled the hat off his head, revealing something curved and silvery-white lying in his pale blond hair.
“Is he really?” asked Hermione. She craned her neck to see better.
“Smith? It came to Smith? Ugh, just great. Now he’ll be even more of a pompous prat,” Ron groaned. His eyes were narrowed, but that didn’t hide the flash of jealousy in them. “Already rich, isn’t he? Now this too? Some people have all the luck,” he muttered.
“Is he really what?” Hadrianna asked as Zach reached up and grabbed the shiny thing off his head. It looked kind of like a bracelet of sorts. Why would the Sorting Hat give Zach a glittering bracelet?
Fawkes’s talons curled around the top of the hat, and they vanished.
“Lord Hufflepuff,” said Hermione as she bounced in her seat.
Hadrianna blinked and then spun around to face her friend. “What?” Yes, she knew that Zach was the last scion of the Hufflepuff Line—he had told her so himself in sixth year—but how could Hermione know that? It was a secret, or so she had thought. He had smugly informed her that Founder’s Heirs should stick together—excluding He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, of course.
“His nose is going to be even higher in the air than Malfoy’s,” Ron spat as he glared at Zach. “Oh, look at me, I’m a Founder’s Heir and Lord Hufflepuff. Bow to me, cretins!”
Hermione grinned at Ron. “I didn’t know you knew that word. You’re expanding your vocabulary. I’m so proud of you!”
Ron blushed and stuttered.
Offended, Hadrianna huffed and folded her arms. “I’ll have you know that I’m a Founder’s Heir, too. Gryffindor’s, remember? Are you saying it’s a bad thing?” She wanted to sigh and hang her head. Ron was a good friend, but when his jealousy got out of hand (quite frequently) he was a right prat. Besides, Zach didn’t deserve his disparagement.
Zach was brilliant. He had never treated her like a princess on a pedestal just because she was the blasted Girl-Who-Lived.
They had casually run into each other a great many times in fifth and sixth year, but always when Ron and Hermione weren’t around. She hadn’t given much thought to how important he had become to her until she was hunting Horcruxes and he wasn’t there to tease her, poke fun at the foibles of others, and give her little gifts. No matter what time of day it was, or even when they had last seen each other, he always had a gift for her: it could be as simple as a chocolate frog, or as elaborate as a self-correcting quill or a gift card to a wizarding clothing shop. He would hand those to her intently, a silent command to use them, and say, “Buy yourself something new.” Unlike others, he never snickered at her for wearing her cousin’s cast-offs. She loved that about him.
“No! I’m just saying—you’re not like that git!” Ron exclaimed, cheeks flushing.
“He’s not a git,” Hadrianna said mutinously. She had never spoken up for him before, because she hadn’t wanted Voldemort or the Slytherins to find out she was defending someone and attack him. Now, though, she wouldn’t allow that kind of talk, just as she wouldn’t let other people insult Ron and Hermione.
While Voldemort had still been alive and hunting her, she hadn’t been able to admit, even to herself, that she might possibly fancy Zach. Now, though . . .
“Whatever his personality traits, we can be sure of one thing,” Hermione interjected, before a fight could break out between Hadrianna and Ron. “He has been recognized as Lord Hufflepuff.”
“But how do you know that?” Hadrianna demanded. She carded a hand through her scarlet waist-length hair and then absently began braiding a section of it. The color was identical to her mother’s, and scarlet hair was a trait of the Prewett family; there was rampant speculation that Lily Evans was an illegitimate child of the late Lord Prewett, which would make Ron her cousin. Even without the official confirmation, she was glad she had never been attracted to any of the Weasleys. That would have been too bizarre for her. She wasn’t obsessed with blood purity like the Blacks had been and had no desire to bond with one of her cousins.
Hermione huffed and tilted her head in the same way she normally did before asking, Don’t you read? However, she didn’t this time. “Well the Sorting Hat gave him the unicorn bracelet, of course!”
Knowing her next question would annoy Hermione didn’t stop her from asking it. She wanted answers. “The what?”
Hermione straightened her shoulders and leaned forward in a conspiring manner. “The unicorn bracelet is—”
“Absolutely none of your business, Granger,” Zach spat. “So I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep your mouth shut for once. Do you think you can manage to possess knowledge without sharing it with the whole world?”
A blush overtook Hermione’s face, and Ron stood, his fork pointed threateningly at Zach. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
Zach placed both his hands on the Gryffindor table, one on either side of Hadrianna, and leaned forward, his chest meeting the back of her head. “Then keep her in line. Your girlfriend has no right to discuss my private family affairs in public.”
Instead of blowing up, as Hadrianna had thought he would, Ron nodded ruefully and sat back down. “You’re right, of course. Apologize, Hermione.”
Hermione looked as flabbergasted as Hadrianna felt, but she dutifully said, “I’m sorry, Smith.”
“Accepted,” Zach replied. “Just see that you don’t do it again. You like learning, so why don’t you ask Weasley about wizarding etiquette. You have a lot to learn.”
Hadrianna felt like she should say something, but she didn’t know what. Honestly, she felt guilty for asking Hermione about the bracelet in the first place, and riling Zach’s temper. But she could understand where he was coming from; she hated it when people gossiped about her, and she had been grilling Hermione on something related to him behind his back. Hadrianna winced. She should have just waited and asked Zach her questions the next time they randomly bumped into each other.
“Step away from her.”
Hadrianna wondered if people would think she was more mental than normal if she bashed her head against the table. If she had known saving Malfoy from the bloody Fiendfyre would result in him practically stalking her, she might have left him to die. He always had this weird gleam in his eyes when he stared at her, as if he was imagining something. She really didn’t want to know what it was.
“I don’t think I will,” Zach said, still caging her with his body.
A quick glance at the high table showed the teachers smiling down at her with amusement. Great. So she obviously wasn’t going to get any help from them. Traitors.
“I’m warning you, Smith,” Malfoy snarled. “Get away from her.”
Zach snorted. “Why should I? It doesn’t seem like Hadrianna has a problem with my being so close to her.” As if to prove that point, he stepped even closer. The front of his body was now plastered all along her back, and her head was nestled against his chest.
The surrounding Gryffindors inhaled sharply and edged away from her. Hadrianna knew they were awaiting the tirade that followed anyone calling her by her full name. Even Ron and Hermione were eyeing her warily. It didn’t come, though. Zach had granted himself permission to use her full name in fifth year, haughtily informing her that her parents had given it to her and that a future lady, even one of Gryffindor’s line, should never be called ‘Harry’. She hadn’t known what he meant by the lady comment, but referring to her parents had let him emerge victorious from the argument.
“She’s just too polite to tell you to back the bloody hell away from her, Smith. I recommend you do so now. I’m not polite enough to keep myself from cursing you for touching her,” Malfoy spat.
“He’s not polite at all,” Ron muttered.
“Stay out of this, Weasley!” Zach and Draco said in unison, each sparing him a scathing glance for interrupting.
Hadrianna stared at the high table, unable to avert her eyes from the empty seat that Snape used to sit in every meal. She could see the taunting smirk on his face, and hear the drawl in his voice. She knew exactly what he would say if he were present to see this, “Really, Potter, inciting war between the houses—just like your father.” In private, though, he would pat her head and smile awkwardly while murmuring, “Men fighting over you already—just like your mother.”
“You seem to be operating under a misconception, Malfoy,” Zach said. He removed one hand from the table and wrapped his arm around Hadrianna, right under her chest. “Do you see this?” Zach’s other hand rose to her hair and burrowed into it, causing Parvati to stare at him with horror. He lifted a section, and she could feel that it was the part she had tied back with the ribbon he had given her after the final battle occurred. The ribbon was satin: black with gold stitching. She had assumed it was a playful joke about him being in Hufflepuff, but the rage on Malfoy’s face didn’t seem to agree.
“That’s not possible,” Malfoy said. His jaw was clenched, making his chin look pointier and his face more sharp.
“Oh, but it clearly is,” Zach said smugly. His fingers danced through the strands of her hair, distracting her from the conversation. She loved having her hair played with.
“You must have tricked her,” Malfoy spat. His right hand was white where it gripped the hawthorn wand she had returned to him. For a moment, she wondered if he might snap it in his rage.
“Hadrianna accepted the ribbon of her own free will.” Zach tugged her hair lightly. “Isn’t that right?”
She felt warm and safe. This was brilliant. Wait . . . hadn’t Zach just asked her something? “Hmm? Oh, yes. You gave it to me.”
“But did he tell you what it means?” Malfoy demanded, eyes like slits of silver.
Hadrianna cocked an eyebrow. That made no sense whatsoever; what was Malfoy playing at? “It’s a hair ribbon, Malfoy. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“You didn’t tell her?” Ron and Malfoy yelled in unison, before glaring viciously at each other.
Fed up with the whole argument that she could not follow in the least, Hadrianna slammed her hands on the table. Zach released her and stepped backward, which made Malfoy grin victoriously. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on”—Malfoy opened his mouth, but she ignored him—“and I don’t care. Yes, Zach gave me a ribbon. Yes, I accepted it. Yes, I’m wearing it. End of story.”
“You call him ‘Zach’?” Hermione asked, stunned, speaking for the first time since Ron had advised her to apologize.
Hadrianna huffed and put her head in her hands. Her reply was muffled. “It is his name, Hermione.” What was the big deal? She didn’t understand at all, and it was starting to piss her off.
A soft cry of pain made Hadrianna look up in time to see a small bolt of magic leave the bracelet around Zach’s wrist and zap Ginny, who had been staring at it in awe. Ginny was mortified, and Ron suddenly looked like he wanted to castrate Dean, but Hadrianna had no clue why. Why would—? Wait a minute. Hadn’t Hermione said it was a unicorn bracelet? Hadrianna grabbed Zach’s hand and stared at the bracelet; it spiraled around his arm like a circular staircase, covering roughly six inches of skin. It was silver-white, magical, and felt pure. Could it really be—“Unicorn horn?” she mumbled.
“Yes,” Zach agreed.
Then why would it . . . ? “But you’re not bonded!” Hadrianna exclaimed, staring at Ginny in disbelief.
The only thing her Aunt Petunia and Snape had ever agreed on was that she was never, ever, ever to gift a man with her virginity before bonding. Snape had then happily volunteered (or she thought it was happily; his eyes had shone with a fervent light) to curse anyone who tried to convince her otherwise.
As Ginny was stuttering, she saw Hermione lean against Ron’s side, which put a greater distance between her and the bracelet. “You didn’t!” But Hermione’s red cheeks and Ron’s coughing told a different story.
These were her friends. What if people thought she had . . . ?
Hadrianna almost gave herself whiplash as she snapped her head back to stare at Zach and Malfoy. “I never! I certainly haven’t—” She couldn’t bring herself to say the actual words. “I’ll prove it!” She dropped Zach’s hand and then closed her fingers around the bracelet itself. Her magic seeped out of her skin and hung around her like a foggy cloud; it was iridescent white—just like the bracelet.
As Malfoy gaped at her, Zach slid the bracelet off his wrist and extended it to her. Hadrianna was so accustomed to accepting gifts from him that she didn’t even think to refuse it. She slid it over her own hand and onto her wrist, admiring its beauty as it resized itself to closely hug her skin.
The awe on Malfoy’s face disappeared, lividness taking its place. “You choose him? Why? Why save me if you were going to choose him?”
Hadrianna’s forehead wrinkled. “What are you talking about?” The leer on his face was unnerving: a mix of desire and hatred and loss.
“You’ve just accepted my final courtship gift, Hadrianna,” Zach said. The grin on his face was beatific, as if he had just accomplished a Herculean task.
She blinked. “Courtship?” Now that she thought about it, the gifts had gotten more extravagant over time, and he had always looked quite pleased with himself when she took them from his hands. Was that why Snape had laughed at her when she had told him she had gotten the white lily from a friend?
Zach’s fingers caressed the bracelet on her arm possessively. Then he leaned over and whispered in her ear, “The plebeians call it the unicorn bracelet because it’s crafted from unicorn horn. In the family, we call it the Matchmaker. It was Helga Hufflepuff’s, and is used to find a wife for each Lord Hufflepuff—a witch who is pure in heart, mind, spirit, and body.”
Hadrianna tugged some hair forward to hide her face as the compliments and implications got to her. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, and didn’t want people thinking Zach was whispering inappropriate things in her ear.
“Even before the hat gave me the Matchmaker, I already knew you were it for me, Hadrianna,” Zach whispered.
“So we’re—what, engaged?”
The smile on his face was amused, but he looked more worried than anything. “No. Hadrianna, once a witch places the bracelet on her wrist, she’s Lady Hufflepuff.”
Hadrianna gulped and stared at the possessive grip Zach had on the bracelet. She waited for righteous indignation to flood through her body, for hatred to swell at the thought of being tricked into bonding. But all she could hear was Sirius’s voice telling story after story of how her father had ruthlessly and persistently sought her mother. All she could see was Snape glaring at Zach and ordering him to detention for the silliest of reasons, and Zach not complaining once. All she could feel was the love she had buried so deep that Voldemort would never glimpse it.
“Do you love me?” she breathed. His actions spoke of his love, but she needed the words. No man had ever said them to her before and meant them—at least, not in a romantic way.
“With the love of a Hufflepuff—eternally loyal,” said Zach solemnly.
She glanced down at her lap and then grinned. Let him suffer for a few moments for plotting against her. He must have learned of her father’s courtship of her mother and sought to avoid the drama by tricking her into it. Instead of being irate, she was impressed; it proved how dedicated and hardworking he was. She had nothing to worry about; Zach was the ultimate Hufflepuff. “Why did Ron and Malfoy freak out about the ribbon? What does it mean?”
“Black and gold are my family colors. By wearing it you declare that you are in an exclusive courtship with me and other wizards are to leave you alone until you decide to bond with me or break off the courtship,” he confessed.
“Which I, of course, had no idea how to do, seeing as I didn’t even realize you were courting me.” Hadrianna cocked an eyebrow, enjoying how nervous he got as she refused to react to his pronouncement that she had inadvertently agreed to be his wife.
“I love you, Hadrianna,” Zach said. He leaned forward and stared directly into her eyes. “I might not be a Potter, but I was never going to give up the woman I love to anyone else. I learned from your father. He would be proud of me. I won the witch of my dreams.”
A gentle smile graced her face. “Yes, you did.”
And then she kissed him in front of their silent audience, sighing as he pulled her into a tight embrace. His hands tangled in her hair and tilted her head. As he claimed her mouth, hidden behind the scarlet curtain of her hair, she wondered if her mother had felt this precious and loved while finally surrendering to her father.