Chapter: Snowfall

It had been three days since the patrol night, since she found the photo.

Maddie hadn't told anyone.

She kept it tucked away carefully inside the inner pocket of her school robe — even folded a protective charm around it so the image wouldn't smudge. Every now and then, when no one was looking, she'd slip it out and stare at the two laughing boys frozen in that fleeting, carefree moment. Sirius Black. And her father. Together, as if they'd grown up like brothers.

The memory made her heart twist.

Sirius was a fugitive, someone people spoke about with hushed voices and nervous glances. She had heard her father mention him before — never in great detail — only that he was "complicated," and "not all bad once."

Not all bad. What did that even mean now?

After her last class of the day, Maddie made her way to the library, slipping in through the oak doors unnoticed. Madam Pince was busy lecturing a pair of fourth-years over returned quills, so Maddie disappeared into the older, dustier section of the archives.

She scanned the spines, fingers trailing instinctively, until she found the book again: The Hogwarts Yearbook, Class of 1978.

The same one from a week ago.

She pulled it from the shelf and set it down at one of the hidden back tables, the ones by the tall windows where the light was always soft and golden, like honey trapped in glass.

Opening the book carefully, Maddie turned past the portraits until she found them again.

Sirius. Her dad. Remus Lupin. James Potter. Peter Pettigrew.

She studied their faces.

So young. So loud and full of fire, even in still photographs. And somewhere in there was the reason Sirius had returned. Harry was the obvious target — James Potter's son. But something itched at the back of her mind. Her name, Oldkey, was clearly connected too. She couldn't help wondering... was Sirius after Harry?

Or... after her?

A shiver tickled her spine.

"I've seen that face before," a familiar voice said behind her, warm and amused.

Maddie jumped, her fingers instinctively sliding over the photo page before turning around.

Adrian Pucey was standing there, relaxed and smiling, his dark green school robes slightly open over his sweater. His grey eyes were soft, curious.

"Didn't mean to scare you," he added, stepping closer.

"You didn't," Maddie lied, closing the book. "I just didn't hear you come in."

"I walk quietly," Adrian said with a grin. "Comes from being chased by Filch in first year."

Maddie smiled faintly and nodded at the book. "Just some old photos. Research."

"Mm," Adrian hummed, sliding into the chair opposite her. "So... is the date still on?"

Maddie blinked.

"The what?"

He leaned on his elbow, mock offended. "Butterbeer, remember? You said you'd pay this time. I've been holding onto that promise like it's a signed contract."

She gave him a half-smile. "You make it sound like a debt."

"I prefer to think of it as anticipation."

Maddie laughed softly, closing the yearbook and tucking a parchment inside to mark the page. "Well, if you're so eager to get paid back..."

Adrian tilted his head, playful. "I am."

She leaned back a little in her seat, thoughtful. "Everyone's going to Hogsmeade on Sunday."

"That they are," he said, watching her. "And I was thinking... if the offer still stands, maybe that's our chance."

Maddie glanced toward the window, watching students cross the courtyard below. The idea of stepping out of the castle — away from Sirius Black, from photos and questions — and just... being normal for a moment, was deeply tempting.

She looked back at him. "Sunday then."

Adrian's smile widened. "It's a date."

Maddie narrowed her eyes, feigning suspicion. "Only if you don't bring the whole Slytherin Quidditch team with you again."

"No promises," Adrian teased, already standing. "But I'll make sure Flint stays in the castle. Just for you."

He winked, then turned, striding between the shelves like he'd never been there at all.

Maddie watched him go, still smiling faintly.

Then she looked down at the closed yearbook, her smile fading.

Her fingers brushed the cover as she whispered to herself, "What were you really doing with him, Dad?"

The wind outside howled softly, tapping against the library windows like it was trying to remind her: the story wasn't finished yet.

⸻

The Sunday morning air in the castle was crisp and quiet — the kind of stillness that only came after a late autumn snowfall.

Maddie Oldkey stood in front of the dormitory mirror, brushing the last curl into place. Her hair fell softly around her shoulders in loose waves, and her outfit — a high-collared black dress cinched at the waist, paired with soft grey stockings and her polished Mary Jane heels — gave her the kind of quiet, effortless elegance she'd always admired in the portraits lining the halls.

She gave her reflection a final glance and smiled.

From behind, her roommate Evelyn stepped out of the bathroom, drying her hands on a green towel. She raised a brow, smirking.

"Going on another date, Oldkey?"

Maddie shrugged with a playful grin. "Maybe."

Evelyn leaned against the wall, eyes narrowing. "With Pucey again? The Quidditch heartthrob?"

Maddie gave a light laugh. "You'll find out soon enough."

As she grabbed her small bag, Evelyn called after her, "Next time, double date, remember!"

"I promise!" Maddie shouted over her shoulder, already halfway out the door. "But I'm late!"

She sprinted through the common room, passing the emerald firelight, her heels clicking softly on the stone. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Draco Malfoy and his usual entourage — Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy — huddled together, whispering and snickering about something.

Maddie caught Draco's eye.

Just for a second.

A flicker of something — curiosity? Jealousy? It passed too quickly to name.

But she kept moving, brushing it off as she headed through the dungeons and out into the cold.

Snow had begun to fall again, soft and light, coating the world in a pale, glittering blanket. Standing near the main gate, arms crossed and scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, was Adrian Pucey.

The moment he saw her, he smiled wide.

"Well, well," he said, offering his arm. "Miss Oldkey, you look absolutely divine."

Maddie blushed, laughing as she took his arm. "You're not so bad yourself."

He twirled her gently before they started walking toward Hogsmeade, the fresh snow crunching beneath their feet. They passed small groups of students heading into town, some already throwing snowballs at each other, others clutching steaming cups from earlier café stops.

They wandered the narrow cobbled streets together, popping into Honeydukes and browsing Zonko's — where Adrian nearly bought a box of belching powder just to see Maddie's face wrinkle in disapproval. Eventually, they made their way into The Three Broomsticks, where a booth by the window was open just for them.

Adrian ordered for both of them — two butterbeers and a warm treacle tart to share. Maddie didn't object. In fact, it was nice to let someone take the lead for once.

"I still think it's funny you're buying today," Adrian teased, lifting his mug. "Didn't take you for the chivalrous type."

Maddie gave him a sly look over the rim of her own butterbeer. "I like surprising people."

"You're doing a very good job of it."

Their conversation flowed easily — school talk, professors they liked (and didn't), theories about the latest Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Adrian made her laugh, and Maddie, usually reserved and guarded, found herself relaxing into the rhythm of his company.

But even in the warm flicker of the lanternlight, something in the back of her mind kept tugging — like an itch she couldn't reach. Her eyes flicked to the window more than once, watching snowflakes swirl and the shadows stretch long across Hogsmeade.

When they finally stood to leave, Adrian was quick to reach the door. He opened it with a small bow and a grin. "After you, m'lady."

Maddie rolled her eyes but smiled. She stepped out—

And slipped.

Not on ice, but something moved. Something brushed her shoulder.

A sudden force nudged her balance, sending her pitching forward — until Adrian grabbed her arm, steadying her with a firm grip.

"Whoa! Maddie—are you alright?"

She blinked, heart racing. "Y-Yeah, I think so. Just... the wind."

But it wasn't the wind.

As Adrian helped her stand straight, Maddie's sharp gaze dropped to the snow.

Footprints.

Clear, fresh, and leading away—as though someone had just been standing right there. Only... no one was.

She didn't say anything. Not yet.

Adrian didn't seem to notice. "That could've been worse. Guess I'm lucky I caught you."

Maddie forced a small laugh. "Yeah. Thanks."

They walked back to the castle through the snow, Adrian talking animatedly about Quidditch practice and Professor Flitwick's duel demonstration earlier that week. Maddie nodded along, but her thoughts were still tracing the invisible footsteps behind them.

At the castle doors, they slowed.

Adrian stepped in front of her, stopping gently. His expression softened, shifting from light-hearted to quiet.

"I had a really nice time with you, Maddie."

She looked up, suddenly aware of how close they were. His eyes flicked down toward her lips, and without a word, he reached up — fingers brushing a curl from her cheek, tucking it neatly behind her ear.

Maddie's heart skipped, but not in the way she expected.

He leaned in, just slightly—

"Oi, Percy!"

A voice barked behind them.

They both turned.

Three Slytherin Quidditch players were coming down the steps toward them, green scarves swinging in the wind. Flint was at the front, smirking.

"You skipping post-practice drinks for your little tea party?"

Maddie took a small step back.

Adrian hesitated, clearing his throat and stepping away from her too. "Just finishing up. I'll catch you in a minute."

Maddie gave him a polite nod, already pulling her coat tighter. "See you later, Adrian."

She turned, walking quickly up the stairs and back into the castle, boots tapping briskly on the stone.

What she didn't see was the figure in the shadows of the courtyard — someone leaning by a snow-covered pillar, having seen the whole thing.

Draco Malfoy stood still, hands buried in his coat pockets, jaw clenched.

He hadn't meant to watch.

But he had.

And now, he couldn't shake the feeling curling tight in his chest — cold, strange, and sharp.

Jealousy.

______________

Draco is jealous uuuuu...