The Malfoy Project

𝙽𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 #𝟻 - 𝙻𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘

✼¹

     That Christmas, I met the man who would change my life.

     No, not a man.

     A monster.

     To say I didn't enjoy Christmas at Black Manor would be a lie. It was a deliciously luxurious event, bursting with lights and gold ornaments, succulent jewels hanging from ceilings and earlobes, swirling with gowns and coattails and jewels; everything sparkling and glistening. I didn't just enjoy it — I reveled in it.

     But first, I had to endure the train ride back from Hogwarts. It was agonising. I was alone, with Ronnie absent and Bella next to me, stiff as a board. Lucius sat across us, the seat next to him empty.

     They never mentioned Bas, or Ronnie. They avoided talking about Hogwarts at all. Instead, they discussed the affairs of the Muggle world and the Ministry: the Minister for Magic's recent meeting with the Muggle Minister, the cabinet meeting that followed. And not in the way a group of friends might over wine, but rather in the manner of parents cautiously discussing a war in front of their children — with careful avoidance of taboo words that might have been recognisable and upsetting.

     "Jenkins will be out of office soon", said Bella.

     "Obviously," spat Lucius, "given the piss-poor job she's done controlling the riots."

     "I wonder who will take her place," I said, having had quite enough of feeling left out. They turned to me and blinked, as if just noticing I was there.

     "Hopefully not another Mudblood sympathiser," sniffed Bella. Lucius gave her a hard glare and spoke at me through the side of his teeth. "I don't think it's anything to concern yourself with, darling."

     Darling? I ignored this. "But Bella's right. We won't get anywhere if they keep electing people like Jenkins." This got their attention. I wanted to laugh at the mixture of confusion and pleasant surprise on their faces.

     "What happened to justice for Squibs?" Bella asked mockingly, pulling a face. I merely shrugged. "It's a lost cause."

     I could see the pride in her eyes. Lucius was looking at me as if he were a starving lion and I was a piece of fresh red meat. And it disgusted me to admit, but their approval was strangely invigorating. It was different from the way Bas looked at me — like I was a goddess. Slight and pretty and enigmatic. Yes, let's always do good. Yes, I will marry you. He loved me for it.

     But what if I didn't want to be a goddess? What if I wanted to do more than just play truant from class or prance about the banks of the Black Lake like a fucking fairy?

     What if I wanted to live?

✧

     Of all the glitz and glamour of parties, getting ready was perhaps my favourite part of such evenings. I would spend an hour just choosing my outfit, and then another hour on putting on makeup and doing my hair.

     But as I sat at the dressing table pinning my curls to let them set, I felt a curious sense of unfamiliarity, like I was doing all this for the first time. I slid the last hairpin in place and reached for a tube of carmine lipstick. Standing and leaning in close to the three-sided mirror, so that my nose was barely two inches from it, I dabbed it on carefully.

     When my lips were well-coated with the red hue, I popped the cap back on and studied my reflection closely: the soft peach fuzz on my cheeks, the rivers of cyan running through the blues of my eyes, the fine, imperceptible lines of my lips.