My Blood

Chapter 1 - A New Journey

As the first light of September 1890 streams through my London window, it brings with it an aroma I adore-the rich, comforting scent of woodsmoke from distant hearths, intertwined with the fresh, cleansing smell of rain lingering from the night's downpour. The sunlight, soft and golden, filters in, warming my skin and the room, its glow accentuating the dance of these familiar scents. It's a symphony of the city awakening, a blend of elements that speaks directly to my heart, promising the unfolding of another chapter in the tapestry of this day.

I woke up that morning with a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through me. It wasn't like any other day; I wasn't in my familiar Parisian home but in London, preparing to embark on a new journey at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor Fig had spent the summer diligently teaching me magic, and although he assured me of my quick learning and potential, I couldn't shake off the feeling of apprehension.

My parents, with their high expectations, always expected the best from me. While they didn't express it explicitly, I could feel their unspoken desire for me to excel. Even at the Paris Opera Ballet School, where I was previously enrolled, the pressure to be the best was relentless. Would I live up to their expectations in this new magical realm?

So many questions raced through my mind. What if my initial success in magic was just beginners' luck? What if I couldn't keep up with my fellow students, who seemed to be light years ahead of me? The fear of falling short gnawed at me.

But amidst the anxiety, there was excitement bubbling within me. This was a fresh start, a chance to turn the page and perhaps leave behind some of the turmoils that had plagued me before. As I stepped into this new chapter of my life, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope for what lay ahead.

A gentle knock at my door pulls me further from the remnants of sleep, and I know without a doubt it must be Molly, my ladies' maid. Despite my protests, Mother insisted on her presence, a luxury she deemed essential for a lady of our standing.

"Miss Du Pont, are you awake? It's time for your morning practice. May I come in?" Molly's voice, calm and soft, drifts through the door, as gentle as the morning light.

I straighten in bed, touched by her consideration, "Of course, Molly, please enter."

As the soft morning light that filters into my room Molly, steps in with a quiet grace. "Good morning, Molly," I greet her, already feeling the comfort of our routine.

"Good morning, Miss Seraphina. Let's get you ready for ballet," she replies with a gentle smile, laying out my practice attire.

First, she helps me into my bodice, its snug fit a familiar embrace. I stand still, trusting her skilled hands. Then comes the long skirt, its fabric swishing softly around my legs, promising freedom of movement. Molly's careful adjustments ensure it falls just right.

As I pull on the woolen tights she hands me, warmth spreads up my legs. Molly presents my ballet slippers next, their soft leather a reminder of countless hours spent at the barre.

With my attire complete, Molly turns to my hair, gathering it into a neat bun atop my head. "There, all set," she says, stepping back to admire her work.

"Thank you, Molly," I say, feeling a surge of gratitude for her meticulous care. "I'm ready now."

She nods, her confidence in me a quiet force. "You'll do beautifully, Miss Seraphina. Just let the music carry you."

I take a deep breath, feeling fully prepared for the day's practice, bolstered not just by my attire but by Molly's unwavering support.

____________________________________________________________