Snowflake ||d.m||

•01•

     The girl ignored the adults banter for the most part, her polished black shoes being much more interesting. Up until she was harshly shoved forward out of her hiding spot, causing her to stumble over Gordo’s cage- resulting in a hiss of disapproval from him. She did her best to regain her balance before shyly smiling at the Malfoys. Heat rushed to her cheeks, creating a very noticeable pink hue as a result of her embarrassment.

     “This is our darling daughter, Lumikki.” Her mother introduced, her usual cold tone masked by a sickly sweet and soft vibrato, and this only frightened the poor girl. The introduction was unnecessary, the Malfoys knew who she was. The adults having discussed the subject of their children on a few occasions.

     “She is our absolute pride and joy.” Her father added on. His voice was also masked by a friendly tone, a rare smile appearing on his thin chapped lips.

     Placing her hands on her knees, Narcissa Malfoy bent down to match Lumikki’s height. She genuinely smiled at the girl, who now gave her a wary look, feeling the lady’s peppermint breath touch the tip of her nose in an even pattern. “Well aren’t you adorable. Are you excited for your first year at hogwarts.”

     Lumikki stood frozen for a few seconds. The innocent question catching her off guard. She felt a sharp but subtle kick to her shin- her mother’s way of telling her to answer the question. So she did, “yes, very much so. I will surely learn a lot.”
     “A determined little thing, aren’t you?” Lucius’ gravely voice spoke, startling the young witch. She stared up at him with wide eyes. Even the way he talks is unsettling, she thought to herself, hating the way his beady eyes stared into her soul.

     Grimacing at her husband’s impolite intrusion, Narcissa continued her attempt to create small talk with the eleven year old. “He means you have quite a strong mindset. It’s a good thing to set goals for yourself.” Returning to her original height, now looking down at Lumikki, the blonde woman continued. “That is what we teach our boy Draco.”

     “Draco is eleven, right? Starting his first year as well?” Ren Neva rhetorically asked, still keeping on his facade. He had heard Narcissa gush about her son constantly, and although he would not say it out loud, it greatly annoyed him.

     “Obviously.” Lucius grumbled, his boredom not well hidden. His wife then weakly hit his arm, disliking his attitude.

     “I have a feeling Lumikki and Draco would get along quite well, they’re both quite headstrong.” Narcissa smiled at the Neva family with confidence in her statement. Although if asked for any other reasons why the two kids would get along, her mind would go blank.

     Lumikki began tapping her fingers against her sides, her attention span shortening rather quickly. She also felt quite uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, not knowing how she should react. She had never met the young Malfoy, only hearing his name tossed around during family meals every now and then.

     “Speaking of Draco, I do not see him with you.” Mrs Neva observed, double checking if she had missed a third head of bleach blonde hair.

     “He’s already on the train. Which leaves in three minutes, so I would suggest that your daughter-” Lucius’ eyes averted to Lumikkis small frame, no sign of hospitality in them as he spoke, “-go find her seat, before she’s forced to sit with other irresponsible kids.”

     Not even waiting for her parent’s to give her permission to leave the conversation, Lumikki took Mr Malfoy’s threatening words as a sign to leave. She grabbed Gordo’s cage, the cat now fast asleep, and ran off to the nearest entrance, not caring about how her suitcase bumped harshly up the rusted steps. The girl slowly walked through the long carpeted train car in search of a seat. Lumikki noticed immediately that almost every door was closed, indicating those compartments were either full, or the people in them were content with only having their friends there. This gave her a view of distorted figures through the misty glass. Coming to an abrupt halt, she debated whether or not she should just knock on a few doors and politely ask if she could join the group of students seated, or if she should continue her journey further to see if at least one door was open.