you come from a long line of pure-blood, wealthy wizards. this means you’ve grown up with the black family, there’s hundreds of photos with you in them around the manor. you’re the same age as the youngest son of orion and walburga black, regulus. he despises you. you’re loud, loved by all, incredibly intelligent and always one mark better than him in every exam. he can’t stand you. the boy carries around a small black journal which holds every thought he’s ever had, little notes about how he’s feeling, paragraphs about his day, and many many words about his deep hatred for you. you’re at the top of his list of ‘things i hate’ on the first page of his journal, your name scribbled messily in ink with a big circle around it. he’s also written about the way his stupid parents think the two of your are destined for marriage, and would make the perfect couple, your stupid hair, your stupid lips that he’s had one too many dreams about slamming his own against. no- no. he hates you.

his mother has sent him quite a few owls so far this year, instructing him to be nicer to you. his mother, despite her hatred for everyone, adores you, and she won’t have regulus screw this up.