PROLOGUE

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ABRAXAS MALFOY WAITED PATIENTLY as he knew that his mother and father would come with it any day now. For a two year-old he was as smart as he was rich. Abraxas would be excited to find out what had happened, as he had heard crying earlier, cries of happiness. He knew that, whatever happened, his life would change. Both his parents had been very serious about the subject, giving him the impression that it was important. He just hoped that he would be happy with his surprise.

"Abraxas!", he heard the voice of his mother. He took notice of the fact that her eyes were gleaming, and she looked less-stressed than the last months. He felt content, knowing that his parents were going to tell him now.

"I have been looking for you everywhere.", his mother said to him, clearly relieved that she had found her young, yet very intelligent son.

"I have been here, Mother. I have been waiting for you and Father. You want to tell me something right?", Abraxas questioned in perfect english. His parents were very proud of him, and often boasted about him and his intelligence to their pure-blooded friends.

"Yes, my boy, something that I think you will rather like.", his mother replied. "Remember, Abraxas, how I once told you that you would not have a sibling?", She asked her son.

"Why yes Mother, something about unable to.", Abraxas drawled. If this was going where he thought it was going, then he was going to be a good brother.

"Well, remember when I had a scène with your father around eight months ago?", she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"Yes Mother.", Abraxas replied politely, even though he was very curious; he had inherited his father's ability to mask any kind of emotion.

"That was about a woman, remember? Her name was Astoria Aleister and she had made a proposition to him that he could not refuse. Your father and she have gotten a child yesterday.", his mother explained, looking at him intently, as if looking for some kind of disdain.

She continued. "Unfortunately, Astoria died during childbirth, meaning that your little sister is all ours and the heiress to all of the Aleister fame, wealth and estates. We are going to raise her, and I am going to be having another child, and you are going to be having a sister. How do you feel about that?"

Abraxas tried to wrap his mind around that. He, as any other child his age, knew about the Aleisters and he was happy to have a little sister. It would be an honour to have her in the family and he knew that he should be very grateful, because all he had wanted, but had not had at this point was a sibling.

The brand new mother watched her oldest intently as his face showed different emotions. She had been happy with the new development, especially with the death of Astoria Aleister. Now she would finally have a little girl to dote on. Unfortunately, a nasty hex had rendered her infertile after the birth of Abraxas, ironically enough casted by Astoria herself. The mother looked back at her son to see a stupid, happy smile on his face.

Abraxas battered his eyelashes at his mother before asking; "Can I see my little sister now please?"

Brutus Malfoy was very inquisitive, and wanted to know if his son would accept his new sister. Thinking about the girl, he looked down at her, as she was currently lying in his arms. She was petite, a quality all of the born Malfoy females seemed to possess. The unnamed baby in his arms had beautiful silvery blonde hair that every Malfoy had, yet hers was a bit lighter, seemingly almost white. Her eyes were the only Aleister thing about her, as her eyes were two different colours, something all Aleister's possessed. Her left eye was the usual Malfoy colour, icy blue, while her other eye was a purple colour. Apparently, as the myths state, the magic of the Aleister's was so great that their eyes developed a unique colour because their great magic was so powerful that their bodies alone couldn't hold it, hence the reason why wands of any member of the Aleister family would not part with its master until death.

Tranquility ➳ Tom RiddleWhere stories live. Discover now