firecracker ???

The news of Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly-Headless Nick being petrified swept through the castle like a cold wind. Students whispered in corners, glancing over their shoulders, and eyes lingered too long when Harry passed.

In the Slytherin common room, the mood was different.

"I swear," Pansy said, flopping onto the velvet divan with theatrical exasperation, "he looks at you like you killed his cat and he liked it."

Daphne nearly dropped her quill from laughing. "It's true! He practically vibrates when you're in the room."

Elestara gave them a long, elegant look. "He vibrates?"

"Like a tragic poet," Pansy confirmed. "He's obsessed."

"I'm beginning to worry you're the Heir of Slytherin after all," Daphne added. "The boy looked like he was ready to beg when you stepped near that snake."

Astoria sat quietly on the floor, her arms curled around a pillow, wide-eyed and hanging on every word.

Elestara didn't reply. She dipped her quill into ink and kept writing, but the flush in her cheek betrayed her. She wasn't sure if she enjoyed the attention. But she wasn't sure she didn't, either.

The teasing only stopped when the mail arrived.

A formal letter bearing the Malfoy seal arrived on cream parchment. Inside, a short note from Narcissa: they would not be coming home for the holidays. Work obligations. Last-minute Ministry matters. Something about Lucius needing to handle delicate financial arrangements.

Elestara didn't speak after she read it.

Draco looked at her and didn't say anything either. He just nodded. Understood.

The others watched in silence.

Then Blaise shrugged. "Well, if we're all staying—might as well make it interesting."

"We?" Pansy asked.

"Obviously," Daphne said. "We're not letting the twins sulk alone."

So the Slytherins stayed.

A few days later, an owl came for Elestara in the early morning—curled black parchment sealed in silver wax.

It was from Regulus.

He didn't write much. But he always knew what to say.

I know it's disappointing. But you're not forgotten. Your mother told me you handled yourself well in the Duelling Club. I'm proud of you. Stay clever. Stay steady. And remember—being alone is not the same as being abandoned.

She folded the letter neatly and tucked it into her sleeve. No one asked. No one needed to.

Christmas came quietly. Presents appeared at the foot of their beds, wrapped in velvet and ribbon. Draco pretended not to be touched by the matching silver watch Narcissa had sent for both twins.

Elestara got a new set of dragonhide gloves and a rare potions tome annotated by Snape himself. She hid her smile behind a cup of cocoa.

That evening, the Slytherin common room was transformed. Pillows, blankets, and spell-bound ornaments turned the space into something soft and glowing. A pillow fort large enough for eight took over the corner by the fire. Blaise and Daphne were arguing about chocolate frog cards while Pansy transfigured candy wrappers into confetti.

It was warm. It was peaceful. It was theirs.

After dinner, Crabbe and Goyle began eating more than usual.

Which wasn't saying much.

Moments later, they slumped against the table, snoring gently.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved fast. Hair was taken. Polyjuice was poured.