[Editing] Expecto Patronum: Harry Potter One-shots

4 - Marked {Voldemort/Tom Riddle}

Part One - ((Zephyrina Malfoy))

It was a world of black and white. There were no margins for error or a fence on which you could sit. You were either good or bad, dark or light. That in itself was a troublesome thing because you never really knew what your part was - or where it was. I suppose everyone assumed that it was themselves on the right path, playing for the right goal and the right endgame.

I didn't know which side I was on. Only that it was drenched in shadows.

The bed was cold when I stretched out my toes, curling my fingers around the edges of the bed. My fingers connected with something warm and soft lying not too far away from me - peeking through groggy eyes, I could see a pale blond head sticking out of the dark covers. His chest moved timidly and his forehead was damp with sweat when I pressed a soft kiss to his temple, which lead me to put the back of my hand over his forehead. It wasn't fever - only nightmares. Trying not to disturb him, I crept out of bed and stretched my spine. I tiptoed to the window and gingerly pulled on the curtain so that I could see outside.

It was my favourite kind of weather. Bleek and overcast, with skies crying in sheets of rain that painted life into the dark grey stone of the Manor. I sighed and ran my finger along the glass, feeling a strike of chill shock through my fingertip, as I traced the shape of the ornate black gates. I remembered a time when those gates hardly ever closed - when I was a little girl not tall enough to reach the window ledge. Now, the memory was painted with gloom. Those were simpler times and I would wish anything to have them back.

Forlornly, I shut the curtain and started to pick out some clothes from my wardrobe. There was hardly any colour left in my clothes selection, mostly black clothes now remained. It simply wasn't right to wear sunny, happy-looking clothes when surrounded with despair and gloom. I decided on one of my favourite outfits : a dark silk cardigan that fit loosely over my bodice, a black skirt cut at the knee (anything shorter was considered scandalous) and a pair of delicate ballet flats, each punctuated with a black rhinestone bow. It was probably the nicest outfit that I had and I was in two minds whether or not I should change, but I remained stubborn and sat down at my vanity table instead.

I could hardly recognise myself anymore. When I was a little girl, I thought I was going to look like Mother when I was older. Everyone agreed and even Grandpa Abraxas said that he would leave the famliy resemblance for me to look like Mother and Draco to look like Father. Yet somehow between the years, I started to lose that entirely. My hair was dark and coiled into thick ringlets that I couldn't bare to cut shorter than shoulder length and my eyebrows were thick and inquisitive, with that same ebony sheen. Skin pale - all Malfoys had that in common - and face round and pointed into a proud chin. I was told that I had a button nose exactly like Draco's, apparently that made us look arrogant, too, Mother would always chide us, and my lips were dark and pink, standing out on my pale face. My eye colour was a blended mixture of Mother's and Father's - hazel, sometimes more green like Grandfather's and othertimes as dark as Aunt Bella's. I tried to tug a few knots out of my hair with my hairbrush before I sighed moodily under my breath and waved my wand. All I had to do was sit back as each lock disentangled themselves on my head, before twisting prettilly into a messy knot at the top of my head, allowing a few free-flowing curls to nestle my collarbone. In the mirror's reflection, two pale hands draped over my shoulders.

"I still think you look like Mother." The voice said.

I smiled, though it was weak, and turned in my chair to see the sleepy face of my brother staring down at me. That broadened my smile as I stood and hugged him, running a hand through his scruffy blonde hair and neatening his wild fringe.

"You really should get a haircut." I remarked, "You're looking scruffier than ever."

Draco rolled his eyes and sat back down on the bed, stifling a few yawns with the back of his hand.