Chapter Text
"Darling, don't you think this is a little extreme?" Mrs. Fudge pleaded as her daughter shoved the last of her required books into her brand new bookbag.
"I could ask the same of Father when he decided to keep me at home instead of going to school," Eris said. "I think we have far surpassed extreme, mother. There's no use in fighting it." She heaved the bag over her shoulder and brushed past her mother to the corridor outside her bedroom. Her feet rattled down the stairs and she turned into the living room, tossing her bag haphazardly onto the small pile of suitcases she'd collected in the fireplace. She grabbed a fistful of the powder from the pail sitting on the mantelpiece and gazed at her belongings.
"The Three Broomsticks!" She called, tossing the powder at the pile and watching as it all disappeared in a flash of green fire.
"Eris, dear," Mrs. Fudge called from the entryway. "Why didn't you just ask?" Eris's mother was a soft-spoken woman, it didn't at all suit her harsh appearance; you would easily find that her severe eyebrows and permanent frown were highly contrasted with the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches she would leave on the kitchen counter before she locked herself in her office for the day.
Eris collapsed on the squashy white armchair nearest to the fireplace. "Do you really think your husband would have let me go if I had?" She asked, staring at the ashes in the fire grate as if she was willing all her frustration to burst them into flame. She always seemed to be staring intensely at something - so odd compared to both her parent's kind gazes; she had been told on many occasions that she was her own person, unlike her parents in almost every way - maybe with the exception of her father's stubborn demeanor and her mother's dark hair that never seemed comfortable enough to wear completely up or completely down.
"Maybe with some persuasion," her mother said. "He's extremely concerned about you." She moved around the armchair and crouched in front of Eris, grabbing one of her hands, trying to make eye contact.
Her daughter coughed out a little sound of laughter. She wrenched her hand from her mother's grip as though she had burned her and sat more upright in the chair. "I think he's more concerned with his political image than with my sanity while I rot away in this prison of a house." Eris tugged her fingers through her hair and breathed out through her teeth. "He'd rather keep me cooped up here than let word get out about my 'condition,'" she said with a huff.
For three days, her and her mother had been battling about this issue. Her mother was constantly assuring her that her father loved her and wanted what was best for her. And Eris was assuring her right back that he would first quit his job as Minister of Magic before he set up her schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry himself.
She was on schedule to attend two years ago. However, a terrible tragedy struck their lives and her father had decided Eris was to proceed with her education at home; where there was no chance that word of the tragedy would get out.
Eris put her foot down after her father refused to hire a Divinations professor the previous year and set out to arrange for her attendance at Hogwarts for the following year on her own. Of course, she made sure her parents didn't know about this plan of hers until it was too late. They had argued that she needed guardian permission to attend, and she reminded them that they had signed the papers right before the incident; that was all the headmaster had needed to approve her request. Naturally, her father was furious and attempted to get headmaster Dumbledore to revoke his original permissions. Thankfully, Dumbledore was on Eris's side and got her father to stand down.
Eris had been rather delighted when the famed Harry Potter was tagged for use of underage magic earlier in the week and her father rushed off on the case. It meant she only had to deal with her mother, who was far easier to reason with. However, that didn't stop the constant headache she caused.
"Now, young lady-"
"Don't 'young lady' me, mum." Eris stood up and moved past Mrs. Fudge, plucking her cat Opi from his resting spot on the windowsill. "You and I both know it's been a few years since I've been properly young." The tragedy that struck her life when she was eleven was one that constantly lingered in her head, and she had matured past her age without issue as a result. She cradled the dark cat against her loose bay hoodie, scratching his chin with two fingers. He purred happily, his paws flexing on her arm.
Mrs. Fudge sighed. It sounded like one of defeat and it made Eris turn to face her. Her mother had slumped into the armchair Eris had previously occupied and was holding her head in her hands.
She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, then looked up at her daughter. "What time are you meant to leave?" She asked.
Eris smirked in triumph. "5 o' clock - I don't want to miss the Sorting ceremony."
Her mother chuckled as if her husband had just told her one of his bad jokes. "Of course you don't - no one in their right mind would want to miss it." She stood up and moved to Eris, folding her into her chest. Opi meowed in annoyance, but stayed put, sandwiched between Mrs. Fudge and Eris. "I just hope your father won't be too disappointed to see you've gone." She released her daughter, grinning. Eris thought about saying something about how he would be rather relieved, but decided against it; she'd just gotten her mother to accept her departure, she wasn't going to sabotage that.
At 5 o'clock that evening, Eris said her last goodbyes to her mother before she stood in the fireplace, cradling Opi against her chest with one hand, holding the Floo Powder in the other.
"The Three Broomsticks!" She exclaimed as she threw the powder at her feet. There was a tug on her naval and next thing she knew, she was standing in the fireplace at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade village. She quickly stepped out; just in time, too, as another student took her place shortly after with his parents on either side of him.
Eris opened her arm holding Opi and let him hop onto the ground. He followed behind her as she greeted Madam Rosmerta - the owner of the Three Broomsticks- and exited the pub. Dumbledore had earlier insisted that Eris take the boats with the first years, but upon hearing that Eris had severe motion-sickness, he thought it would be best if she avoided both the Hogwarts Express and the boats.
Eris wandered down the High Street, her eyes landing on the not-too-distant silhouette of Hogwarts castle in the distance. She followed the other witches and wizards to the castle with Opi following at her feet.
Eris stepped toward the castle twenty minutes later, gazing up at the towering structure of Hogwarts in awe. This was the first time she was seeing it as the place she would receive her education. Her stomach began to churn and she clutched at it with a grimace. She had heard about the events of the last two years, all involving the prophesized Harry Potter -- the only known person to have survived the killing curse; from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, no less. And it didn't help that she had no clue who she was to be housed with. She was in her third year and had not been Sorted. It was an unusual situation, to say the least.
The entrance hall was crawling with first years, most looking a little chilled from the ride across the lake. Eris was unsure whether it was appropriate for her to be standing with the younger students, but she stayed put, keeping to the wall while the first years chittered anxiously with one another.
The doors to the Great Hall cracked open and admitted a stern-looking woman whom Eris recognized as Professor McGonagoll; they had met briefly on Eris's visit to Hogwarts in the summer before what should have been her first year.
Professor McGonagoll faced the first years with a simple smile. "They're ready for you," she said. With that, the first years poured into the Great Hall after the professor. Eris tried her best to stay near the back, but got swept into the crowd.
The Great Hall was bright and the enchanted ceiling mirrored the clear, starry sky outside. When Eris had visited two years ago, there had been banners drifting overhead with the symbols and colors from each house (Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin and Hufflepuff), but they were decorated with the Hogwarts school crest now. The other students watched with excitement as the first years and Eris crowded the aisle between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables and stopped in front of the staff table at the back of the hall. Eris shuffled to the edge of the crowd closest to the Hufflepuffs, narrowly dodging a flying elbow as one of the students swung around to look at the first years.
Eris stood with the uneasy first years, all awaiting their turn to sit beneath the Sorting Hat, of which was seated on a rickety wooden stool being put down by Professor McGonagoll. Eris glanced at each table - save for Slytherin - searching for a familiar face anywhere she could. All she managed to find was Ronald Weasley - she knew his face, like most wizards did after his family won the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw - at the Gryffindor table. Eris knew Arthur Weasley and thought he could be amusing sometimes, but her father rather disliked him and found every excuse to never invite him to dinner - especially if he wanted to bring any of his children; this meant Eris had never met any other Weasley. She dragged her gaze away from Ronald, her stomach clenching more with every face she passed over and didn't recognize.
"Eris Fudge," Professor McGonagall called. Eris hadn't realized that they had begun the ceremonies and she stood up straight at the mention of her name. It seems she would be the first one to go up. They usually started alphabetically from what she had heard from her parents; it made perfect sense that she would be an exception, due to her age.
Eris gulped hard against the lump in her throat, pulling at her fingers as she maneuvered through the crowd of first years. They all looked wide-eyed and confused as she climbed up the steps to the stool sitting at the front of the room, where Professor McGonagall waited, a gentle smile splitting her hawk-like face while she held a roll of parchment in her slender hands. Eris's hands shook as she sat herself on the stool. She placed the hat on her head, sat on her hands, and dared a glance at the Slytherin table. She recognized another face, though not necessarily one she had been particularly excited to see. Draco Malfoy. He was watching her with detached amusement while the others around him whispered to each other behind their hands. She averted her eyes and stared straight ahead, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Eris had never been concerned with her house, nor was she ever swayed into believing she belonged in any particular one; although, her father was convinced she would be sorted into Ravenclaw - it was his feeble attempt to relate in some way with Eris.
It seemed the Sorting Hat had picked up on Eris's spike of apprehension when she saw Draco. "He was easy to sort," said the hat. Eris stiffened. "You knew that, of course," the hat whispered to her. Eris's eyes flitted over the faces of the students for any signs that they had heard what the hat said, but it seemed she was the only one who had heard. "You... are a bit more complicated. You'd do rather well in Hufflepuff... There is that determination..." The hat implored. Eris moved her eyes to the Hufflepuff table. She thought that might be the case. She wasn't resigned to hate the idea; however, she wasn't sure she was as well-behaved as most Hufflepuffs were expected to be. "But alas... it seems..." After a moment of eerie silence, the hat spoke, louder this time. "Slytherin!" Eris's heart dropped to her stomach. Of all the things she had expected, it hadn't been that.
She stood and moved down the steps to join her fellow house-mates. While her results weren't what she expected, she couldn't deny the smile that spread over her face, or the warmth that flooded through her and immediately cured the icy chill in her hands as the Slytherins welcomed her, patting her back and clapping her on the shoulder as she moved past them.
Somewhere in the rush of things, Eris was placed in an empty seat at the table, where she watched the first years be sorted into their respective houses.
After the last student was sorted, the Headmaster stepped forward as Professor McGonagoll retreated to the staff table, a small smile playing about her lips - Eris had the impression that she rather enjoyed hosting the Sorting ceremony.
"Welcome!" Headmaster Dumbledore began. He looked around for a moment with a kind smile. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..." Eris glanced at the empty golden platters on the table, her hand travelling to her stomach as she realized that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."
Eris knew of this, of course; it was one of the few arguments her father had introduced when she revealed she would be attending Hogwarts. Dementors were the most feared creatures in the Wizarding World, and her father was no exception to the horror they spread. She had seen one, once; she hadn't been close enough to feel the effects she had been warned about, but there had been an evident chill in the room that hadn't been there before.
"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission," Dumbledore continued. "Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even invisibility cloaks. It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses." Dumbledore's demeanor had changed significantly from when he first stood before the school; where he had been excited and eager before, he was now plagued by a dull and serious air. "I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors." Dumbledore eyed his audience for a moment, then proceeded with newfound energy to introduce the new teachers - Professor Lupin, who would be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Hagrid, who would be taking the position as the Care of Magical Creatures professor.
Eris clapped with the others and fell onto the food as it appeared on the platters, her eyes flitting upwards as the banners above the tables fluttered, revealing the house crests. She became acquainted with the Slytherins sitting around her; one of them introduced herself as Pansy Parkinson, another as Blaise Zabini. Eris introduced herself and when asked why she looked so much older than the other first years, she explained how her father hadn't let her come for the last two years.
"Oh, wow, that's fascinating!" Blaise said, holding a bread roll in his right hand. "Why didn't the Minister let you attend earlier?" He asked.
"Oh, uh..." Eris trailed off, looking down at the half-empty plate she had been picking off as if she had had a big lunch, which, of course, was far from the truth.
"He didn't even want you to come this year, either, I hear." Eris turned with a start when someone spoke behind her shoulder. Her eyes stopped on the slender, light-haired boy she had previously recognized when she was sat under the Sorting Hat.
"I don't believe that's any of your business, Malfoy," Eris said, turning back to face Blaise.
"Oh, you two know each other?" Pansy asked, with an edge of something Eris found hard to identify.
"Oh yes," Draco nudged the girl sitting to the left of Eris, signaling her to move down. He sat at Eris's elbow. "Yes, we know each other well."
Eris glared at Draco out of the corner of her eye. "He's a liar." She paused, sighing as the others furrowed their brows at her. "We've met on numerous occasions, but only briefly," she explained, picking at the mashed potatoes on her plate with her fork.
"Oh, come on Fudge," Draco said, draping his arm around her neck. "We're besties." He squeezed, pulling her close to him. Eris shoved him away and stood up in one smooth motion.
"If you would be so kind as to point me in the direction of one of the prefects, I would much appreciate it," Eris grumbled, glowering at Draco.
"Right here." Eris turned, facing the girl that Draco had nudged away just moments ago. "Is there something you need?" She asked.
"I'd like to be shown to the dormitory, please."
The girl nodded, tossing her fork down on her plate as she stood up.
"Leaving so soon, Fudge?" Draco taunted.
Eris followed the prefect out of the Great Hall without responding to the Malfoy brat.
Unpacking her things wasn't a tedious task, nor did it take long, even with Opi attempting to get her attention by sitting on the things she needed to move. She finished slipping out of her long black robe just as her roommates began to arrive (she was relieved to see that she would be sharing a room with at least one girl she had already met - Pansy). To avoid the bustle of the other girls settling in, she retreated to the common room with a book clutched in her hand. When Eris arrived there, though, it was packed with Slytherins greeting each other and detailing their summer vacations. Eris had planned on sitting near the fireplace to read, but found, to her dismay, that the area seemed popular. So, she left the dungeons in search of somewhere more peaceful to have her well-deserved reading time - she hadn't had any since before she told her parents about her plans to attend Hogwarts.
It didn't take long to find a place that seemed suitable. There was a hall that faced the quidditch practice pitch, with only a low stone ledge to separate the hall from the greenery. Eris climbed up on the ledge, pressing her back against one of the matching stone pillars as she opened the book on her lap. Before she began to read, she took a deep breath of fresh air, the warm currents of air whispering over her pale skin.
"Running away again, are we?"
Eris groaned at the familiar orotund voice. She snapped her book shut and slid off the ledge. "What in the world are you talking about?" She asked Draco.
"Running from your own House, just like you ran from your father." Draco was in his leisure clothing, leaning against the wall across from her with his arms crossed over his chest.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Eris scoffed, setting her book on the stone ledge she was now leaning against; a signal that she didn't plan to leave this time.
"My father told me about his conversation with the Minister. It sounds like you are running from dear daddy Fudge."
Eris's stomach dropped down to her heels. Her hands began to sweat and shake, and shudders ran up and down her spine "What did he tell you?" She snapped as she stepped forward, fully intending to shut down one of his snarky remarks about her situation.
Draco held his hands up calmly in defense. "Only that you arranged to attend Hogwarts on your own."
Eris's hands unclenched and she slumped against the low wall. She sighed, "Whatever."
Draco scoffed, "'Whatever?'" He repeated as he pushed away from the wall, then took a few steps closer to Eris. "That's probably the most..." he paused, searching for the right word. "Defiant thing you've ever done." He looked Eris up and down with a smirk that told Eris he didn't normally think highly of her. "I admire what you did."
"Get off your high hippogriff, Draco. Need I tell you again? I don't need or want your crazy adulations." Eris turned to retrieve her book.
"Wait, Fudge." His tone retreated from its usual malice and became a bit softer, however slight. "I..." he dragged a hand over his face. "I'm sorry."
Eris froze, her gaze suspended on the ground. She had never heard an apology from Draco unless it was a frantic attempt to appease his father. Not that this one sounded particularly sincere, but it was an apology nevertheless.
"Just... let me speak," he said. He didn't seem desperate, Eris noted. Rather, he seemed tired.
Eris sighed, her eyebrows creased into a harsh "v." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why should I give you the light of day?"
"You shouldn't," he started. "Fortunately for me, there's little daylight left for you to give." He smirked, gesturing to the quickly purpling sky beyond the low stone wall with his slender, pasty hand.
Eris glanced at the sky and rolled her eyes. "Fine. What do you want?" She asked, returning her gaze to Draco.
He removed one of his hands from his pockets and held it out to her. "A truce," he offered.
Eris stared at his outstretched hand, then back up at his face. "Why?"
"We've similar issues with our Ministry fathers. Maybe we can help each other out." As he explained this, Eris raised her eyebrows.
"You? You have issues with your father?" She wouldn't have been so surprised if Mr. Malfoy's son was anyone else, but he and Draco had always been incredibly complementary.
Draco dropped his hand and leaned back coolly. "Secret's bound to come out somehow. Better with someone with the same problems, eh?" he said.
"You have no idea about my problems, Malfoy." Eris puffed her chest.
"Then tell me, Fudge," said Draco. "Give me an idea."
"If I did, my father would fire yours and pull me out of school before you can say pudding," said Eris. "The only idea I'll give you is the one where you stay away from me."
Instead of looking offended, Draco's face cracked into a mischievous grin. He held his hand out again. "Truce?"
Eris tried to force back a smirk, but ultimately failed. She grabbed her book from the ledge and brushed past him.
"We'll see, Malfoy, we'll see."