❝ 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...
Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
• Emma Vanity •
„We look up at the stars and see such different things."
A change was taking place in the wizarding world, Emma had also noticed. She would have to be completely naïve not to notice it. The constant death notices and attacks had piled up in the headlines. But for her, they had always been out of reach. As if they had happened in another universe. Another reality.
Until the death of Dorcas.
What would she have to fear? Her family was pure-blooded, they always had been, and they had never given the dark lord any reason to set his followers on them. But at the same time, they would never join him. They just wanted to go on with their quiet lives. It was precisely this desire that was to be the undoing of their aunt, uncle and Dorcas. They had refused to serve him and they had paid for it with their lives.
It could have been her parents and herself. The Death Eaters could also have stood on their doorstep and forced them to swear eternal allegiance to the Dark Lord.
The wood of her racing broom gave Emma comfort. Polished and familiar, it lay in her hand as she marched across the muddy lawn to the Quidditch pitch. The treetops of the forbidden forest lay grey and menacing like a fortress before her. They swayed to the right and left in time with the icy wind. Soon dusk would set in and swallow her in the darkness of the night.
She just had to clear her head and nothing helped more than throwing a few quaffles through the rings. Dumbledore's words from the speech still echoed in her ears. No more and no less had Dorcas received. A speech that everyone would probably have forgotten the next day anyway. For her life went on. Not the Ravenclaw's.
Emma wished she had spent more time with her cousin. They had been very close as children. Hung out together at family gatherings, like Hagrid and his magical creatures. But during their school years, they had drifted apart. After all, Dorcas had certainly not been interested in a first year in her third year. A Slytherin one at that. But now they would never get the time to make up for their lost years.
Deeply, the captain of the slytherin team breathed in the freezing winter air of January and felt life, expelling it in a warm cloud shortly afterwards. Emma cursed as she spotted a person on the field she had intended to use for her own emotional outbursts. But she was not about to be chased away. Especially not by a Gryffindor.
Sirius Black didn't even look up as she came closer. He was sitting there on the seat of his trousers, playing with the Snitch that Potter usually had wrapped around him. "If you're just going to sit there, you might as well do it in your common room, Black!" she called to him, wading through the sand that covered the field. "Because others want to train."
