❝ 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨. ❞
The girl with the silver-blonde hair lived up to her family name Malfoy. Camille Malfoy was proud, well brought up and for...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
• Prologue •
„Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness."
A deeply satisfied expression adorned the noble features of the tall woman as she tapped the brightly polished wood of the door in front of her with a smooth movement of her hand. The finger bones meeting the dark mahogany produced a dull sound that suggested how solid and expensive the wood must actually be, gleaming in the faint rays of sunlight that fought their way through the thick wall of clouds.
The light silky hair that the woman had twisted into large curls that day was blown out of her face by the gentle wind. Behind her stood a handsome man, one hand propped on a walking stick and the other on his hip. His hair, as blond as hers, though a few shades darker, was tied into a loose braid with a black bow. Neither adult noticed how their two children stretched their heads in vain to catch a glimpse of the door that would be opened for them at any moment.
Footsteps approached the family with a clacking sound that announced the arrival of a woman who opened the door for them with a pretentious expression on her stern face. Her black hair was tied into a tight bun and her dark expensive robes sat like a second skin on her fair one. Nothing about Walburga Black seemed to have been left to chance, for her appearance seemed almost perfect.
"Ophelia, Abraxas! What a pleasure to welcome you back!" she exclaimed, but there was not even the slightest hint of said pleasure in her stern expression. Although Camille could hardly wait for the door to open before, she now had to resist the urge not to cover her ears with her hands at the shrill sound of the voice.
The young Malfoy, much as her mother had pointed out to her, kept behind her brother Lucius, who was almost effusively welcomed by Mrs Black. "The man of the hour, Lucius! And little Camille, what a lovely young Lady!"
Bravely shaking her hand, which was cold and firm, Camille made a little curtsy, just as she had been taught, and stepped into the entrance hall of No. 12 Grimmauld Place. While her mother was talking animatedly with Walburga Black, the little blonde girl caught sight of the beautiful chandelier hanging above her on the ornate ceiling. Below it they stood obediently lined up. The offspring of the old Black family, led by the eldest of the five. Bellatrix greeted them with a proud expression. Camille was sure she had never seen anyone who exuded more of the will to convince of her old-fashioned family.
It continued with Narcissa, but she only had eyes for Lucius. How could it be otherwise? After all, this gathering was to celebrate their engagement. Camille thought fifteen was a rather early age to celebrate such a thing. But it was not unusual in their circles and her brother and future sister-in-law did not look like they would regret it in the near future. It was possible to be lucky.
