Chapter Four
The next morning, Evelyn walked with Draco to Potions immediately after breakfast. They made quite the striking pair, his effortless confidence radiating off him like a beacon. Evelyn followed his lead with an ease born of their shared understanding. Draco's posture was relaxed yet commanding, and Evelyn's own quiet strength complemented his energy, making it impossible for anyone to look away.
It was easy to notice how the crowd in the corridor seemed to part for them. Students moved aside, some with wide-eyed curiosity, others with poorly hidden whispers or sideways glances. The attention wasn't new—Evelyn had grown accustomed to being the center of speculation. Over the summer, the wizarding papers had been relentless. Articles about the Malfoys' tarnished reputation following Lucius's imprisonment and whispers about Evelyn's connection to Voldemort painted the two of them as figures of suspicion, even as Harry and Dumbledore's warnings about the Dark Lord had been proven true.
Draco, the son of a Death Eater, and Evelyn, the Dark Lord's niece—it was a narrative too enticing for the press to ignore. Evelyn knew the weight of those headlines, the way they painted her as a tangible figure to channel the wizarding world's fear and doubt. It didn't matter that she'd spent years proving herself at Hogwarts or that Dumbledore himself had vouched for her. To them, she was a convenient target, a living reminder of the darkness that loomed over their world.
Now, walking hand in hand with Draco, their presence seemed to stir a mix of unease and intrigue among the students around them. Evelyn could feel the weight of their stares, but she didn't flinch. She kept her chin high, matching Draco's stride. His hand in hers was steady, grounding her in the moment. Together, they made a statement: they were unbothered, united, and unapologetic.
Draco glanced down at her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he noticed the hushed whispers and furtive glances around them. "Quite the audience this morning," he remarked dryly, his tone laced with amusement.
Evelyn rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "They're just curious," she said, though her voice carried an edge of defiance. "Let them stare."
Draco chuckled, clearly pleased by her response. "That's right, love," he murmured, squeezing her hand lightly. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.
"Come on," he said, his tone light. "We don't want to be late. Slughorn might be less terrifying than Snape, but I don't fancy being on his bad side either."
They continued down the corridor, Evelyn's hand still clasped in Draco's, his touch a steady and familiar comfort. As they approached the Potions classroom, the buzz of whispers and stares began to fade into the background, replaced by the quieter hum of students settling in. Evelyn shot Draco a loving smile, catching the way his smirk softened ever so slightly in return.
Inside the classroom, Evelyn's gaze swept over the room, immediately noticing how much smaller the class had become since the previous year. It didn't take much to guess that fewer students had scored well enough on their OWLs to continue with advanced Potions. Her eyes landed on Hermione, sitting alone at a workstation near the front, her quill already poised and ready. But there was no sign of Harry or Ron. Evelyn hesitated for a moment, half-considering walking over to sit with Hermione.
Before she could act, Draco gave her hand a gentle but firm tug, guiding her toward a table near the back. It was clear from his expression that he expected her to join him. Evelyn sighed inwardly but didn't resist, allowing him to lead her. They settled at a table with Blaise and Theo, the four of them quickly falling into their usual camaraderie.
Slughorn, standing near the front of the classroom, was greeting students as they arrived, his booming voice carrying easily across the room. When his gaze landed on Evelyn, his face lit up with an almost theatrical enthusiasm.
"Miss Riddle! A delight to see you in my class! Welcome, welcome!" Slughorn exclaimed, his round face beaming as he waved her in.
Evelyn forced a polite smile, nodding in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Professor," she replied, her tone measured.
Blaise and Draco exchanged amused grins, while Theo leaned forward, his grin positively gleeful. "Day one," he began, his voice low but dripping with mockery, "and you're already the teacher's pet. Even with a different professor, some things never change, do they, Riddle?"
Blaise chuckled, clearly enjoying the teasing. "Don't forget, Theo, she's not just Slughorn's star pupil. She's also the top of Snape's list too. Maybe she's aiming to collect them all."
Evelyn shot them both a pointed look, though her lips twitched in amusement. "Oh, shut it," she muttered, flipping open her Potions textbook.
Draco, ever the picture of nonchalance, leaned closer to her with a smirk. "Don't worry," he drawled. "If Slughorn starts getting too attached, I'll step in and remind him you're taken."
Evelyn rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but smile at his remark. As Slughorn turned to start the lesson, the door creaked open, and Harry and Ron trudged in, both looking slightly disheveled and decidedly annoyed. The class, which had already begun to settle, turned to watch the late arrivals, curiosity rippling through the room.
"Harry, m'boy! I was beginning to worry!" Slughorn's voice boomed with warmth as he gestured for them to come in. His eyes twinkled as they landed on Ron. "And I see we've brought someone with us!"
"Ron Weasley, sir," Ron introduced himself hurriedly, his tone sheepish. "But I'm dead awful at Potions, a menace actually, so I probably should just be going—"
He began edging toward the door, clearly hoping to make a quick escape. But before Ron could retreat any further, Harry gave him a firm shove forward.
Slughorn waved away Ron's protests with a jovial chuckle. "Nonsense, we'll sort you out. Any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine. Right then, find your seats, books out—"
"Um, sorry, sir, but we haven't got our books yet," Harry quickly interrupted.
Slughorn clucked his tongue, but his smile didn't falter. "Ah, no matter, no matter! There are spares in the cupboard. Help yourselves, gentlemen."
Evelyn, seated between Draco and Blaise, leaned back in her chair slightly, watching the scene unfold with mild amusement. Harry and Ron shuffled to the back of the room, muttering under their breath. They reached the supply cupboard, where shelves of old, dusty textbooks awaited them. The pair began rifling through the shelves, their faces a mix of curiosity and exasperation.
It didn't take long for their expressions to change. They both spotted the same book—a clean, brand-new copy of Advanced Potion-Making nestled among the battered ones. For a moment, they froze, their gazes locking. Then, in an instant, both lunged for it.
There was a muffled scuffle as they jostled for the prize. Moments later, Ron emerged victorious, clutching the pristine book to his chest, a triumphant grin on his face. Harry, meanwhile, was left holding a worn, second-hand version with frayed edges and faded ink. His expression was a mix of irritation and disbelief as he glared at Ron.
Evelyn stifled a laugh, earning a nudge from Theo, who leaned over to whisper, "Looks like Potter's already having a rough morning."
"I'm sure he'll manage," Evelyn replied lightly, her amusement clear.
As Harry and Ron settled in, Hermione cast them a disapproving glance, clearly unimpressed by their late arrival.
Slughorn clapped his hands together, drawing the attention of the class. "Now, as I was saying, I've prepared a few concoctions this morning," he announced, gesturing to three simmering cauldrons at the front of the room. "Any ideas what these might be? Yes, Miss—"
