The great pureblood House of the Dragon was ancient. Spanning back a millennia, countless witches and wizards walked the halls of Hogwarts and so did their descendants. Though, no one house held more prominence within the line, many were sorted to Slytherin, a house of cunning and unbridled ambition.

Maegor was one of these descendants. Sorted into Slytherin in his first year, Maegor excelled in many courses, but none better than Defense Against the Dark Arts and Quidditch. The young man joined his team as Captain in his fifth year, a star beater with a hell of an arm, with dreams of going professional once through with school.

His brother Aenys was nothing like him, however. Aenys was studious and kept his focus on courses such as Charms or Transfiguration. Sorted into Ravenclaw five years prior to Maegor, the two had no overlapping courses and rarely saw each other in the halls.

Unlike their sister, you. Everyone in the family had suspected the quiet, observant but intelligent girl to be sorted to Ravenclaw or even Hufflepuff. But to the surprise of many, you were sorted to Slytherin.

It came as a relief for a time, until the house mates only associated you with Maegor, clear of the young man's wrath and possessiveness, none dared to get too close, none dared to truly bond with you.

Proficient in divination come your third year, and by your sixth you excelled in potions as well, spending your time at the end of the table in the Great Hall, your eyes skimming the pages of various books while you ate in quite, interacting briefly with Maegor's teammates and himself as he passed to take their own seats.

Maegor had only told a handful about the betrothal, and only purebloods at that. No one else would understand, which is what led to this discussion.

"But she's your sister, isn't she?" Adrian quipped, mouthful of food and an incredulous expression.

Maegor picked at his food, amethyst eyes flicking to you down the way, lingering for a beat, "Half...but yes. It's just how our family works."

"Bonkers, if you ask me," Adrian shook his head. But Maegor simply shrugged, his gaze stuck to you before he acknowledge his teammate.

"No one asked you, Pucey," Maegor's voice was gruff as he continued to eat, mentally going over the discussion with his Father the summer before term began about the betrothal and the wedding planned for after your graduation. Two years, after your seventh year...you'd be wed.

Maegor was drawn out of his trace by a small cough behind him and a warm hand on his shoulder through his button up. He glanced up the arm to find you, standing there with a nervous smile and cautious glance at his friends.