CHAPTER 1.
kerfuffle

❝ welcome to my darkness,
i've been here for a while,
clouding up the sunlight ❞

THERE WAS A REASON that Felicity Granger was so fond of dandelions.

Not only were they one of the most useful flowers to ever exist - each part holding its own unique function in the hands of dye, food and medicine - but there was a charm about them that made them seem almost magical. And when you observed them more closely, you would recognise how versatile they were, with each phase of their life holding its own celestiality. When they fluttered with bright yellow petals they were like the sun, warm and glistening. But the ball of fluff that made up its rounded center represented the moon, pale and divine. And when you blew on it, its tiny seeds would disperse into the wind, scattering into the air like a sky full of stars.

They were a common flower -  their presence was harmless, but their beauty was almost always missed. Nobody ever really noticed how they were one of the only flowers that was in season all year round, but that they were at their brightest in the spring. Nor did anybody ever take the time to discover that they were the first plant to colonize abandoned land after a disaster led them astray, bringing the ruined soil back to life.

And in May, when the delicate flowers came into full bloom, they decorated the fields of green with tiny specks of modest gold that could be seen for miles.

But no, most people never saw any of that quiet magic. Instead, people chose to ignore their strength, and resort them to nothing but a common garden weed.

It was for that reason that Felicity loved them so deeply - there was a beauty to them, and a power, yet they were almost entirely overlooked.

With a heaving sigh, Felicity threw another knitted jumper into her trunk and pressed down on the fabric to flatten the space it was taking. She didn't have room for that many pieces of clothing this year, (certainly not the chunky kind, anyway), not when fifth year required so many blasted textbooks - just staring at the mountains of printed pages was making her feel stressed. Of course, no one had made her take such excessively hard subjects for her O.W.Ls, she could have just taken the simpler electives like Care for Magical Creatures, like everybody else, but she just wasn't that type. She would much rather take something she enjoyed, and be challenged, than cop out for a couple of easy grades. Perhaps that was one common trait that ran down the Granger line.

Still, that didn't mean it wasn't frustrating, having to cram so many darn textbooks into such a dingy space.

Felicity usually loved going back to Hogwarts, but this year things felt a little different. Darker, almost. There was some kind of brooding, ominous energy that was surrounding the entire Wizarding World, with an unruly feeling that something wasn't right. And it wasn't just the wizards that were feeling it either - even Felicity's parents couldn't help but feel a little off about the situation, and Graham and Jean Granger were not wizards at all, they were muggles.

The fear was spreading over everyone like wildfire, and it didn't seem like long until everything would burn to ash.

But of course, Hermione had convinced them to let the girls return anyway. She had always been pretty good at that, convincing them of things. Felicity had never really had the same touch.

Though she would never admit it out loud, Felicity had always found that being the younger sister of such a golden child had come with its fair share of challenges. Having been born first, Hermione had always had the head start - she was the first to talk, the first go to school, the first to discover she was a witch - and ever since then, the fact that she had done everything so exceedingly only meant that she was deemed the blueprint that Felicity should aim to follow. And alongside that, there was the fact that not only were the expectations on Felicity so high, but they were destined to never be reached, because it was impossible to top such a golden daughter, and even if she did achieve something, Hermione had done it first.

It wasn't like Felicity was neglected, she knew that her parents loved her dearly, but that didn't make it easy, constantly feeling like second place.

And she wasn't Hermione, maybe that was the other key point. Hermione Granger was the duplicate of her parents - she felt what they felt, liked what they liked, but Felicity had a mind almost entirely of her own. She didn't want to go to the theatre, and she didn't want to discuss intellectual topics over the dinner table; she just wanted to talk about the footy, or sing karaoke with her friends, or watch whichever cartoon reruns she could find on the TV. Perhaps the only thing she did have in common with her dignified family was her love for the piano, and she would always be grateful to her parents for putting her through those lessons her entire youth, but aside from that, she could have been born into an entirely different family and you wouldn't tell the difference. Indeed, Felicity had intellect - there was little doubt about that - but she would much rather save her brain for term time. Being a distinguished family was a fat load of tosh.

"Felicity", the sound of her mother calling interrupted her from her packing trance, "Lucille and Liam are here!"

Felicity smiled to herself and scurried to tidy her stuff up, "Tell them to come up!"

Liam Inkwell was Felicity's oldest friend. The Inkwells had always lived next door, and Felicity's mother had known Mrs Inkwell since school, so it just made sense. Besides, Liam's personality was essentially just the male equivalent of her own, and after spending all their time together since they could toddle, at this point he was like an extension of Felicity's own body - a super irritating extra limb.

And he was a wizard too, but of course, neither knew until they received their Hogwarts letters at age eleven. Of course, Felicity had had some kind of hunch - considering her sister had received her own letter a year earlier - but Liam was an only child, and his magical blood had come as a complete surprise.

Lucille's older brother, Dean, went to Hogwarts too, a year above herself and Liam, but Felicity had been best friends with the eldest Thomas siblings long before Dean had even discovered he had magic in his blood. The Thomas family had moved to Hampstead Garden Suburb when Felicity was six, and given that the area was so close-knit, it hadn't taken long for Felicity and Liam to befriend the eldest of the four Thomas children and allow them into their little duo, forming what became the greatest of four-person cliques.

But it was Lucille that Felicity was closest to. Being the only muggle friend that she really had, Felicity had always found it refreshing to have a best friend who was separated from all the magic and gave her at least a slice of the real world. She loved Hogwarts, but it grew tiresome sometimes - she liked coming home to relax in a world that was entirely magic-free. Lucille was kind but rambunctious, and hanging around her was like a breath of fresh air. Plus, she always knew exactly what to say, but then, that wasn't a surprise - after all, she was a Thomas.

And thank god for the Thomases.

If there was a family that Felicity should have been born into, it was this one. The Thomases didn't care about coming across as distinguished, they weren't even from Hampstead - Wendy Thomas had been born and raised in Stratford, the middle daughter of a working class family, and she had worked for every penny she had. It wasn't until she married, and her husband gained enough of a promotion as a doctor to afford a neighbourhood like Hampstead, that the family had uprooted. And so, the Thomases had never put their children through years of language classes, or training in classical piano, and they didn't discuss intellectual topics around the dinner table, or spend their evenings at the theatre watching ballet. They baked homemade cookies, and played ball games out on the grass, and when the weather got hotter they ditched dinner for picnics in the park, where they could discuss the latest West Ham football season over finger sandwiches and apple pie.

She heard the familiar sound of two sets of footprints trudging up the stairs, before the door swung open and two figures bounced into her room. They looked the same as always, Liam's pretty-boy curls ruffled and his band shirt skin-tight, Lucille's black hair free and loose to frizz out and frame the sides of her head. She was wearing burnt orange, which was a colour Felicity had always thought beautifully complimented her bright eyes and glowing, dark skin - though of course, Lucille had known that already. And the weather must have been hot, because Liam's legs were bare, and Lucille had her sunglasses slung onto the top of her head.

"You're still only half packed?" Lucille questioned in astonishment as she swung into the room and fell onto the bed, "Your train leaves tomorrow morning."

"Which means I have at least twelve hours to finish", Felicity said with a raise of her brow, "Besides - I'm not sure why you're lecturing me, I doubt he's packed either."

Liam plonked himself next to Lucille on the bed and folded his arms proudly across his chest, "I think you'll find that my mummy finished packing for me yesterday, actually."

Lucille scoffed. "Your mum still packs for you? Are you seven?"

"The privileges of being an only child", Felicity rolled her eyes as she continued to fold clothes into her trunk, "He hasn't had to do a thing in his life, mummy does it all for him."

"Absolutely she does, and speaking of", Liam continued to boast proudly, evidently showing no shame at his pampered lifestyle, "Mum said you and Hermione are welcome to come with us to the station tomorrow if you want a lift."

"It's alright, Hermione's already been with the Weasleys for days", she responded, "So I told Mum and Dad they could take me, I think they feel a little left out when we spend all our time with other people - they get disappointed enough that Hermione hardly spends Christmas with us anymore."

Everything fell quiet then, and Lucille began rummaging through the open closet, tossing items of clothing across the room that she deemed worthy of packing in her expert opinion. Liam's feet began bouncing, his attention deficit disorder kicking in, and eventually he began hosting through the stuff laying around the room to settle his inability to sit still.

Eventually, his eyes fell onto the open letter resting on the top of the dresser, "You got Prefect?"

Felicity nodded, and Lucille turned to Liam, "No surprise there - didn't you?"

"You must be joking, Old Mcgonagall would rather give it to her left shoe than give it to me."

"And she'd be right about that judgement, too", Felicity chuckled to herself, "Who do you reckon got it then, Bucket?"

"Nah, got to be Creevey I reckon", he chirped back, "It's Quidditch I'm after anyway. I heard through the grapevine that Harry's captain this year, too - do you think you could put a word in?"

"You know too well that my word to Harry has little power over anything, particularly the Quidditch team", she reminded him, "You'll just have to play your best and we'll find out. Besides, I have a feeling this year is going to be important for reasons a lot more important than Quidditch."

It was a little past half ten by the time Felicity finally trudged her way onto Platform 9 3/4. Mr and Mrs Granger weren't particularly fond of the magical platform on the best of days, but with the atmosphere this year so broody and disturbing, they didn't feel massively inclined to step over the mystical barrier whatsoever. And so, the pair had said their goodbyes to their youngest daughter back in Kings Cross Station, muttering their usual mumblings to stay safe, focus, and make sure her sister didn't overwork herself too hard before finally letting Felicity run through the wall.

And her parents had been right to be worried - the atmosphere surrounding the Hogwarts Express was a little off that year. On the surface, things seemed completely normal: the claret steam train billowing with smoke; the smell of carefully-washed teenagers in new robes, and freshly baked pumpkin pasties filling the platform with the aroma of home. But people were quiet, shifty. Anybody above the age of about fourteen seemed to know that something about this year was going to be different, but nobody particularly wanted to find out what.

In the heaving crowd, Felicity struggled to allow her eyes to fall on any of her friends, who could have potentially even gotten on the train already. The Hogwarts Express always left at eleven am, sharp, but by Granger standards, she was practically already late. At their grand old ages, most of Felicity's friends didn't even bring their parents with them to the platform, either travelling by themselves or allowing their families to come as far as the gates, so it wouldn't be any surprise if they had abandoned the hectic platform to bagsy the best carriage on the train instead.

On most occasions, she would travel to the station with either the Inkwells or the Thomases - they all lived in the same tiny suburb, so it just made sense to combine lifts - and so she was used to turning up to the platform with Liam and Dean by her side. But this year, the three muggle-born families had arrived on their own, and her two close friends would have already said goodbye to their parents and dispersed into their separate groups.

That was the thing about Felicity's friendship with Liam and Dean - they were two of the bestest friends she had, at home, but at school they had their own separate groups, and they tended to go their separate ways.

After it became abundantly clear that Felicity stood no chance in spotting her group of friends on the people-ridden platform, she decided that she was probably better off just getting herself settled on the train instead. Her trunk was outweighing her, and the bundle of fur lying passive in his travel cage wasn't helping either, but she wasn't about to leave any of her stuff behind.

This was the year. Her year. She just knew it.

Something deep inside her was just telling her that this was going to be her best year so far. Regardless of the darkness, or the broody feeling that somebody was looming over them with a knife. It didn't matter that her sister almost died again last year, just for being friends with Harry Potter, or that they had all spent the last year being secretly trained to be agents of war. There was just a feeling, this year - like the sparking of something different. Something new. Something was going to start this year, that would be the beginning of the rest of her life.

She was about halfway to the train doors when a tall shadow appeared to block her path.

Just the smell alone was enough. Citrus was how it would start, because whatever product he used in his overly-gelled hair was flavoured with lemons, and then what came next was peppermint and musk, the painful stench of somebody who wore too much designer cologne. And if the pungency of his scent was not telling enough, the crispness of the black fabric would only confirm her suspicions. Pure wool, not polyester - like it had been stripped straight off of a sheep's back and stitched onto his bare body.

She hated him.

Every word he spoke made the nerves in her body twitch. Every move he made sent shivers down her spine. With every fibre of her being, she despised him, and his existence made her feel so angry that she could have been driven to murder. Just looking at him made her feel physically sick. And yet, somehow, by some completely unfortunate inconvenience, he seems to pop up just about everywhere she goes.

Draco fucking Malfoy.

"Now now, what do we have here?" his tongue seemed to curl when he spoke, like the twisted tongue of a snake, "I hope you weren't planning on getting on the train without saying hello to your superiors, Granger. You know, it's awfully rude, really. You should really learn your place."

"Oh please, has your mummy been putting shots of audacity in your cornflakes, again, Malfoy?", she shot back with a roll of her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling in disgust, "If you'll excuse me, you don't own the fucking platform."

Behind him, his usual gang of cronies were standing proudly, eating up his every word. Pansy Parkinson, with her flowing hair and her pig-like attitude. Blaise Zabini, and the brooding smoulder he thought made him enigmatic. Crabbe and Goyle, who didn't seem to have a single brain cell between the two of them. And Theodore Nott, well - he always just looked lost. She couldn't stand the sight of them, any of them; they were the most vile breed of human beings known to man, with their villainous daddies and their designer clothes. They were like rats, that no poison seemed to get rid of.

"You really could try being more polite", he paused, and his eyes narrowed, "Something's different about you this year, Granger, but I can't put my finger on what it is. New hair, perhaps?"

Felicity's eyes narrow to mirror his expression.

"Belly button piercing", she says bluntly, her head tilting, "Now, if you don't mind."

She attempted to move past their broad bodies, but Draco only shifted his body right enough to further block her path. For a second time, Felicity felt her eyes chronically roll to the back of her head, feeling so utterly over it that she could easily bash her own head in with a rock.

Draco smirked, "Say please, first?"

"Bite me."

"You're pretty gutsy for a mudblood, you know", just the two syllables burned a fire in the back of her skull, "You should watch your tongue."

There was a certain disgust in his final words, his face grimacing as he spoke. As he enunciated the hateful term, he practically spat at her, and his perpetual repulsion for people like her was evident from the malice of his tone. With that, he shoved past her so harshly that she went stumbling backwards, sending her body toppling until she fell firmly onto the ground. As she sat in a pile of limbs on the dirty platform floor, a fury burning in the bottom of her stomach, she heard the hissing of their snickers as they hustled towards their end of the platform.

As she willed herself to stand back up, dusting the pavement dirt from the fabric of her clothes, she found herself approached for a second time.

"Here", the soft voice spoke, and Felicity was sent shuddering at the feeling of a hand on the top of her back, "This was stuck to your back."

The girl in front of her handed her an old platform ticket, clearly unknowingly abandoned by a student who had already boarded the train.

Felicity would recognise the girl anywhere, and she guessed anybody else would, too. Her skin was pale like ice, and her silvery-blonde hair fell just below her shoulders. But it was her eyes that made her so recognisable - dangerously striking and a harsh grey, as cold as steel, like it was their branding.

She didn't know what the hell Peyton Malfoy wanted with her, but she didn't want to find out.

"Thanks", Felicity responded bluntly, letting the ticket fall back onto the platform floor. She normally wouldn't be so keen to litter, but there was no use in pocketing it, and she didn't know if somebody would come back searching for what they had dropped.

"I'm sorry about my brother", Peyton spoke warmly, much to Felicity's utmost surprise, "He doesn't know when to limit his own pride sometimes."

"He's a spiteful little git."

"Well, there's that too, I suppose", she nodded, "You're Felicity, right? I'm Peyton."

"Yeah", Felicity's facial expression remained blank, "I know."

"I'm actually a Prefect this year, and if I know the Grangers, I can almost guarantee you are too", Peyton continued, "You want me to help you out?"

Felicity scoffed, "I think I've had enough help from you Malfoys today, but thank you."

She placed her hand back onto her trunk and attempted to wheel herself back towards the train, but the youngest Malfoy appeared to be following her.

"No, Felicity, wait", she called as she attempted to catch up, "I'm not trying to be a git, here. I'm trying to offer you an olive branch, on my brother's behalf. Let me do you a favour."

Felicity stopped herself in her tracks, turning back to give the panting Peyton a glance, "And what help could you actually have to offer me, huh?"

"Well", her eyes glittered with a spark of mischief, "You wanna really piss him off?"

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AUTHOR'S NOTE ... welcome to the very first chapter of epiphany! for any readers of the old epiphany, you'll recognise that this chapter is still vaguely reminiscent of the first chapter of that version, though obviously very revamped! I really love the new version of this story and I'm very excited to start this story up properly and for you to get to see some more of it. the characters are very very dear to me. anyway, lots of love, ─── dani xoxo