The morning air was crisp and warm as it wafted through the open windows of the Zabini summer home. Fresh linens clipped to drying lines outside, birds sung their morning songs, waking each creature for the start of a new day.

Inside the kitchen, you all curled up, staving off the unfortunate hangovers from the previous night, already in your swimsuits. Lorenzo rested unceremoniously against the kitchen island, allowing the marble to cool his skin. Behind him, Theodore sat on the kitchen counter, shoulders brushing with Mattheo who stood head-in-hands, praying for his pain meds to kick in soon.

Pansy and you stood between Draco and Blaise at the counter, as the latter came up behind the two to reach the coffee pot. “Morning, assholes,” Blaise greeted, voice smooth like water, low. With Pansy’s head against Draco’s shoulder, and your temple pressed between her shoulders blades, you sigh at the domesticity of it all.

You all gave some hum of acknowledgement, not wanting to be off in your own worlds for very long. Sixth year would be starting in a few, short months. And with it, the Second Wizarding War would soon spiral bigger than any of you could’ve imagined.

You can already feel the sting of the Dark Mark on your forearm— you have gotten it yet, none of you had. But, soon, it would be etched into your skin forever.

“God, we shouldn’t have drank,” Lorenzo groans, earning a scoff from Mattheo, who kicks out a foot to nudge at his leg. “Poor baby.” Pansy replies, words sharp and teasing, mocking, even for the early morning.