Assassination was out of the question. Completely out of the question, in this lifetime or any other. All she could do was work hard enough to pay for her own education.
Praeris buried her face in the blanket and refused to exist.
It had to be said, maybe Lady Prim was right. Her moods had swung wildly since the holidays began, to the point where she'd started talking herself down from ledges. That was new.
Alright. The last letter. Might as well look.
Yes. Professor Snape's letter.
The strict professor was urging Praeris, who had been letting herself drift like a kite on a cut string, to collect herself before the new term, lest he personally send her flying when she arrived. Attached: supplementary assignment requirements, and a reading list.
Oh, Merlin. He was so thoughtful. He'd even included the books themselves in the package, which neatly eliminated any excuse involving insufficient funds.
Praeris buried her face back in the blanket and pretended to be an ostrich that did not have to face supplementary assignments.
Half an hour later.
She was sitting at her desk, muttering under her breath. "...add toad legs... hmm, skinned."
Ostrich was also not an option.
Books delivered directly to her door during the holidays. Free of charge.
Today she would give thanks to Professor Snape, genuinely. This was far more considerate than the unknown Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who had seen fit to assign her seven bestsellers.
It would have been perfect without the essays.
The next day. Madam Prim's Beauty Shop.
"Darling, what are you staring at nothing for?" Lady Prim stroked the top of Praeris's head like she was petting a dog.
Praeris was privately grateful she hadn't put her hair up today.
"I'm thinking about how to get rich overnight," Praeris said, with complete sincerity.
Lady Prim patted her cheek lightly. "Just go to sleep early, darling. You can have anything you want in dreams."
Praeris smiled, a little sourly. "Alright. I'm thinking about my homework. I have several Potions essays to write."
"Oh heavens, darling, that's dreadful." Lady Prim pressed a hand over her mouth. "I'd better keep my distance — what if you explode later~"
"Don't worry. If I'm going to explode, I'll run outside first. But before that, I need to find Gilderoy Lockhart. If anyone's getting blown up, it's him."
Praeris finished mixing the day's beauty potions without much enthusiasm, pulled out a sheet of parchment, and started on the essay.
Fortunately, things went smoothly. She finished the essays 2 full weeks before term, and spent the wages Lady Prim had given her on her books, money she hadn't even had time to warm in her hands.
Not that she'd been completely cleaned out. It was just the universal feeling of every working person: pulling hard-earned money out of your own pocket was essentially murder.
As the start of term crept closer, Praeris cut back her work hours. She'd finish the potions each day and leave.
She had a holiday to enjoy. What remained of it, anyway.
Miss Winnie invited her out shopping, which in practice meant Praeris was there to carry bags.
"What do you think of this skirt?" Winnie turned in a circle.
Praeris reached out and felt the fabric, ran her eyes along the seams, then stepped back to take in the whole thing.
"It's fine." She nodded, serious.
Miss Winnie laughed. "You're so thorough!"
Praeris knew how to make clothes herself, which gave her particular opinions about them. Those opinions didn't survive the afternoon.
Miss Winnie changed into another skirt. "This one?"
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She changed into another. "Does it look good?"
She changed into yet another, and another, and another. "What do you think?"
At first Praeris gave actual assessments. By the end she had become a machine that produced praise on demand. "Very nice. Really lovely. You look good in everything..."
When she finally walked out of the clothing shop, both hands were full of bags.
"Miss Winnie," she said, "you bought so many. Can you actually wear all of them?"
"Of course not!" Winnie said, looking faintly amused. "But I have money. With money, you buy what you want, as long as it makes you happy."
"Prince?"
Praeris turned toward the voice on instinct.
Draco Malfoy. Of all people.
Since when did he go around greeting people on his own initiative?
"Oh, long time no see. Is this your father?"
Praeris was sorry she had no free hands to offer a proper greeting to her classmate's father.
The elder Malfoy shared the same hair color as Draco Malfoy, but the two of them looked nothing alike. Clearly Draco Malfoy's mother had contributed significantly.
Draco Malfoy stepped forward and introduced her himself. "Father, this is Praeris Prince. She's a Slytherin."
"I've heard of you, Prince. A very talented witch."
That was what the elder Malfoy said. His expression was something else entirely. He was practically looking at her down his chin, and his words had the texture of polite social obligation rather than genuine sentiment.
Winnie reached up and tilted her hat back. "Lucius Malfoy?"
"Winnie Brown?" The elder Malfoy's brow furrowed almost before the name was fully out.
Winnie pushed her hat back down. "Malfoy. Give Narcissa my regards. Let's go, little Prae!"
They walked for a bit before Praeris tugged at Winnie's sleeve. "You know the elder Mr. Malfoy?"
Winnie's expression had gone flat. "Unfortunately, yes. Not a fond memory. He and I and some others used to belong to the same group. I was seventeen, thought I was invincible, thought I was going to change the world."
"And then?" Praeris had already half-guessed the answer.
"And then our leader kicked the bucket, and the whole thing fell apart." Winnie spread her hands. "That's it. I grew up a little. Realized our so-called leader had been an absolute idiot, and was lucky I hadn't managed to do anything before it all collapsed. After that, I resigned from the Ministry of Magic and became my own leader."
Praeris genuinely hadn't expected Winnie to have been a Death Eater.
Her gaze drifted downward.
It was true, though. No matter how hot the weather got, Winnie always wore long sleeves.
"Praeris," Winnie said, something quiet in her voice, "I was very young. I didn't know there were things you couldn't come back from. I only wanted knowledge, stronger power. Fortunately, fate was kind enough to give me a chance to begin again."
So Winnie leaving the Ministry hadn't been a simple career change. The Death Eater history was the real reason.
Which explained why, when Praeris had suggested she modify the laundry spell into a tornado spell, Winnie had gently, firmly declined.
Praeris lifted her armful of bags and hugged her anyway. "Miss Winnie. All of that is over. The person I see right now is a very good friend."
Winnie hugged her back. "It looks like your classmate is going to dislike you now. You should probably tell him you and I have nothing to do with each other. Lucius Malfoy won't think well of me — he never did. Men like him only value people who are useful to them, and the moment I resigned from the Ministry, I stopped being useful."
Praeris shook her head. "No. You are absolutely connected to me, because you're my friend. Whether Lucius Malfoy dislikes you has nothing to do with me. Whether Draco Malfoy dislikes me has nothing to do with me either. I like you. That's what matters to me."
Winnie went still for a moment, as if the words hadn't landed the way she'd expected.
Praeris had always seemed so self-possessed, so older than her years, Winnie had stopped thinking of her as a child a long time ago. But it was only now, hearing this, that Winnie felt something she hadn't been able to name before.
Winnie smiled. It was the first real smile she'd managed all day. "Come on. Ice cream is on me."
And just like that, summer was over.
During the holidays, the time had felt endless, thick and slow, stretching out in every direction with nowhere to go. And then it ended, and suddenly she hadn't done half the things she'd meant to do.
Human feelings and time never quite line up. They never had.
But this year, the crowd seeing Praeris off had grown. Miss Winnie, Lady Prim, and even Mr. Florin from the cold drink stand were all there, all reluctant. She boarded the Hogwarts Express with the sound of the whistle at her back.
Millicent was waiting in the rear carriage, as they'd arranged.
"Prae! I haven't finished my homework — let me see yours." Millicent spotted her like a drowning person spotting a rope. "You and Daphne are genuinely the only people on earth who could actually look forward to going back."
Daphne's face was a study in contempt. "You're absolutely right, I can't wait. You have no idea how much I hate my little sister. Oh, she's gentle, she's kind, she's absolutely perfect — and I'm just the difficult one, apparently."
Praeris shook her head. "I don't look forward to it at all, for the record. And Daphne, your family has the wrong idea about you. If they'd spent five minutes with Pansy and Millicent, they'd know what accomplished actually looks like."
Civil was Pansy, whose mouth could argue three points of reason out of thin air. Martial was Millicent, who could send several people airborne on her own.
Millicent raised one arm and struck a pose. "Look at these muscles."
"Where's Pansy?" Praeris had just noticed the absence.
Daphne raised an eyebrow with an expression that said everything. "With Draco."
Praeris asked the question she had never quite been able to answer. "So what does she actually like about Malfoy? The immaturity, or the impulsiveness?"
"Praeris." Daphne's smile was soft and a little distant. "I don't know either. But think about my name. Why did Apollo like Daphne? He didn't even stop to wonder whether Daphne liked him back. Love is sometimes just that way."
They were second-years now, which meant no boats across the Black Lake. They reached the Great Hall before the first-years were anywhere close.
Marcus's face lit up when he saw her. "I still don't know how to thank you. This is the first year my mother didn't lose her temper at me after I got home. She actually thinks I've turned a corner with my studies."
"You should be thanking yourself," Praeris said. "I'm the one who owes thanks here. I got an E in Flying and completely escaped Professor Snape's criticism. Speaking of which, where is Professor Snape? Who's that blond up at the front grinning with all his teeth showing?"
➤ Next: Pride and Prejudice