Her weakness

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• Camille Malfoy •

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• Camille Malfoy •

„Our dreams were lost
inside the nights
we never spent together."

Camille Malfoy had her head resting on her clasped hands and her turquoise eyes fixed on the window of the Hogwarts Express. As yet, she could see nothing but the platform of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and the numerous families saying goodbye to their children, but as soon as the train began to move, the different landscapes would blur before her eyes.

A knock jolted her out of her thoughts and only seconds later did the blonde realise that the knock was coming from her compartment door. But the visitor was not waiting for an answer, but was already standing in the compartment when Camille looked over at the door.

"Oh thank Merlin you reserved a compartment, I was starting to believe we'd have to sit with Goldilocks and the other second years next door." Emma Vanity had breathed a sigh of relief and was already heaving her heavy trunk onto the rack along with all her Quidditch equipment. While she merely tossed most of it carelessly and almost indifferently into the tray, she placed her broom on the red bench as carefully as if it might break like a branch at any moment. The dark-haired girl was captain of the Slytherin team and quite fond of the sport, which she made no secret of.

"It's nice to see you again too," Camille smirked, while Emma was still talking heartily about Gilderoy Lockhart. "How can you be so incredibly annoying at twelve? It can't be healthy to have that big of an ego. He's seriously going to ask Dumbledore to start one of those Muggle school newspapers. He just wants to read his own name anyway, that's all!"

"Unfortunately, the first years seem to think his curls are quite fabulous, which must be why he actually has an audience," said a high-pitched voice from the direction of the door. Emma turned with a grin and gleefully took in her other friend. "Lorraine!"

Camille sighed, for indeed, at the age of twelve, he was already as well known at Hogwarts like a sore thumb. Though probably not in the way he would like to be. "How was your summer break?" she then asked gently, as she hadn't seen her best friends in weeks and didn't want to waste their time together gossiping about that twit from Ravenclaw.

Lorraine started talking about her vacation with her family the moment the Hogwarts Express finally picked up speed. They had been in a village somewhere in the north of Sweden, but by now Camille had long since stopped listening to her, because all the little blonde had told her in fifteen minutes was that it had been just as you would imagine; quite cold.

"And how was it with you?" she asked then, brushing the light curls out of her face. Lorraine Avery probably looked what one would imagine an angel to look like and was now looking at her with interest with her green eyes, which made her squint slightly and seem a little naïve. Admittedly, she wasn't the brightest candle on the cake, but she was by far the warmest. At least among the Slytherins.

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