"OBLIVIATE"
He spoke that dreadful encantation.. and just like that, all of Isabelle's memories of him were gone.
The way his hand felt in hers, the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach when their lips touched for the first time, erased from her memory forever - but not from his.
No. He'll never forget her. Despite his age he knew now that he loved her, and he knew he'd find her again one day. When he was older, wiser and perhaps understood the twang in his chest now he knew whatever they had was gone..
I awoke to the bright September sun beating down on my face, through a crack in the curtains. He smiled wide at me, which I returned with a distasteful scowl.
I rolled over to the other side of the bed with an exaggerated sigh, savouring the last fleeting moments in my own mini heaven for the next coming weeks.
This was nothing like one of those coming-of-age movies I'd watched, in actuality it felt quite dreadful.
Being that I was barely 5'2, the queen-sized bed swallowed me up. My bed was by far the focal point of my room, hand-carved from wood and stained a pearlescent ivory colour, pillows and blankets scattered to fill the extra space in every shade of pink imaginable. Only the best for Daddy's little angel.
Once you exited the palace my bedroom bestowed, it almost felt as though you'd been transported to a different dimension. The rest of our.. living quarters, I say that as I feel a space must be actually lived in to be described as a home, was gothic.
Dull, dreary, sad looking.. expensive, but incredibly mundane. My Father's interior architecture wasn't particularly to my taste. However any guests we had, which were few and far between, found the establishment rather exquisite.
"Isabelle, darling" I heard the unmistakable racket of my Father's voice, echoing through my bedroom as he opened the heavy wooden door, completely unannounced. He had a habit of doing such things.
I seized the opportunity to roll my eyes in annoyance, as my back was still facing him. "Good morning Father" I replied with a smile, rolling back to my original position, face to face with him.
I was an expert at forcing smiles by now, after years of my Father telling me my beautiful face was wasted on a girl that never smiled. I didn't have much to smile about.
"Come on now, you'll be late you don't want to be running for the train on your first day. No one will want to be your friend" I laughed at my Father's comment, although I knew he were very much serious.
It wasn't common occurrence for my Father to crack a joke. He seemed more nervous than I, for my first day in my new school.
I'd begged to go to Hogwarts for as long as I could remember. Although when I tried to pin-point the time in which my obsession with attending came about, everything was a blur.
My Father described me as having a clouded brain, I thought it rather likely that my prefrontal cortex had failed to develop properly due to lack of human interaction.
I was admittedly awfully forgetful, clumsy, the list goes on; but my soft "oops" and "sorrys" made all my awkwardness seem somewhat cute, and not that awkward at all.. or at least that's what my Mother told me.
I considered myself a modern day Rapunzel, minus the evil Mother, and minus Prince Charming exhaustively trying to save me from my strict Father's confinement.
I mean it's not like I'm locked away in a tower with no way out. But I live in the middle of nowhere, and have no friends outside the confinement of Luvair Manor.
My Father, Orpheus, kindly left the room to allow his precious daughter to prepare for the day ahead. I paused, allowing myself to summon the courage to brace the cold crisp air of my bedroom.
As I stood up, the bottoms of my long silk pyjamas fell like tipis over my feet, as they were ever so slightly too long on my short legs. I smiled as though bidding farewell to an old friend, stroking my feather down pillow.
"Oh how I'll miss you" I said aloud. I'd been mentally preparing myself for weeks, for what I could only imagine to be rickety old beds I'll be subjected to sleeping in at my new school.
I assumed they'd provide bedsheets thin as paper, so my Mother kindly packed my own. I took the gesture as a non-verbal answer to my fears, seeing as she'd stayed there long before me.
I slipped out of my ivory pyjamas. Every single pair I owned matched the colour scheme of my room, my Mother was a stickler for such details.
I ran myself a hot, steamy bubble bath, deciding to take my time and make sure I looked my absolute best. I hoped that the nicer I looked, the more welcoming my student body would be.
I pictured my entrance to the school in my head a hundred times over. Every eventuality was horrid and cringe-worthy, but I just hoped all of the boys would fall at my feet and all of the girls would be dying to be my friend, just like in all of the films..
Although I couldn't be positive that truly would be the case. I could be utterly unbearable for all I knew, stuck in my muggle ways of doing things.
Despite the fact I were quite good at it, I barely ever felt the need to use my magic. I'd oftentimes forget that it could provide a much more efficient way of doing things.
I had an awful nagging feeling that I'd be an outcast, coming into the school in my 5th year not knowing a single soul.. I gulped hard, what if I had no friends? What if I never got a boyfriend.. fuck what if I never even kissed anybody.
I shook my head violently to rid of my pessimistic thoughts, playing with the bubbles surrounding me like little islands in my bathtub ocean.
After what felt like hours, I dried myself off and took a seat in front of my dressing table. In front of me lay all the most amazing perfumes and cosmetics a 15 year old girl could dream of owning. I felt them somewhat wasted upon me.
I didn't quite care for materialistic things, but still always appreciated the gifts my Father would give me.
As well as those from his best friend, who felt more like a blood relative than a family friend, fondly known as uncle, he showered me with gifts from the moment I was born.
If I ever sat and thought about the money they must of spent on me throughout my life it sent a shiver down my spine, perhaps my Father thought it made up for the absence of paternal affection I'd experienced growing up.
The lack of said affection I experienced boiled down to the absence of my Father for weeks at a time, with no explanation when he returned.
When I was younger I often asked my Mother, who had never worked a day in her life as far as I was concerned, what my Father was doing whilst he was gone.
It was pretty obvious he was working, because how on earth would they afford our house on a single persons wage if not the case. But my Mother, Agnes, always managed to divert my attention elsewhere.
I decided I'd no longer ask questions, I was sure I'd find out in due time. Yet after 15 years I was still non the wiser.
I loved to do my hair and makeup, it was a creative outlet for me. I daren't say it but I feel I care almost too much about my appearance at times.
It wasn't like I didn't enjoy being gifted makeup and perfumes, but when it came to gifts, I was one for sentimental gestures rather than material items with no meaning behind them.
I turned on my radio to listen to muggle music for the last time in a while. I sat for a couple of seconds staring blankly at my own reflection whilst Whitney Houston filled the silence surrounding me.
I don't quite understand why but I always pick my own appearance apart. I'd never had a boyfriend, purely because I'd never met another boy, that said I'd never met another girl either. Not even relatives.
As far as I was aware I didn't have any other family, it was always just me, Hokey our house elf, my Father Orpheus and Mother Agnes, and our jet black Labrador dog, Monty. I'd been home schooled by my Mother my whole life, as well as a plethora of lessons from a close family friend, Severus.
We'd lived seemingly in the middle of no where since I was born, I'd never even had the neighbours children to play with when I was younger.
We often went on holidays and I'd meet children there in passing, but my Father always intervened and pulled me away, with a disgusted look on his face which I could never understand. Muttering the word "muggle" as he ushered me back to where he could control my every move.
Muggle, half-blood and mud blood were slurs I didn't care to use, I couldn't quite fathom why I'd prejudice another because their background differed from my own. It had been drilled into me, from my Father not my Mother, that we could only ever associate with those that came from pure blood families.
Something I'd chosen to ignore from the moment I heard such a ghastly way of viewing the world. How boring a life of venturing no further than the confines of pureblood families would be. Although I'd never met another pureblood child either, as of yet.
Perhaps this is what caused me to doubt myself, because I'd never had anyone other than my parents to instil confidence into me. I had hopes that this would change in Hogwarts, and had every intention of making as many half-blood and mudblood friends as I could.
I smiled genuinely at my reflection, pleased with my work as I placed the eyeliner brush back down in its place on the table in front of me. I practiced the way I'd look at people in the mirror, overthinking every possible thing. Doing far more harm than good.
I curled my long icy blonde hair to perfection, and the winged eyeliner was just the finishing touch to my makeup. It made my emerald eyes stand out against my pale complexion, that they often got lost in.
I heard a soft knock at the door, my Mother made her presence known before entering unlike my Father, followed swiftly by Monty to say his final goodbyes to his best friend. "Oh Monty how I wish you could come with me, perhaps I could sneak you in under my robes".
I dodged his every leap, as his tongue eagerly tried to lick the makeup I'd just spent an hour doing off of my face. Mother chuckled at our overly excited pooch, placing a plate of lightly buttered toast and a cup of tea in front of me.
"I don't want you to go, I don't quite know how I'll cope without you here, we've never been apart" she spoke softly, her angelic voice made every word that left her mouth sound like a song. Everything about her oozed elegance and grace.
I'd never had a proper friendship, but I was far from starved of love when it came to my Mother. She embodies everything I hope to be one day, I'd never seen her in a foul mood, not once.
Which were quite the achievement, seeing as my Father found an issue with anything and everything I did. I could imagine he did the same for her, when they were out of my earshot.
"That's not ladylike Isabelle". "What would someone think if they saw you sat like that Isabelle" blah, blah, blah. I'd have to actually fucking meet another human being before they could judge my posture and mannerisms.
Mother was like a breath of fresh air, she radiated love and kindness in everything she did. It was impossible to feel like shit when she was around. She was more like a friend than a Mother.
I jumped to my feet and held her tight. "I'll write you all of the time Mother don't worry, I'll miss you so much, but I'll be home before you know it."
Mother stayed at the house whilst my Father drove me to Kings Cross station. The two hour car journey seemed to go by so quickly, and as my anxiousness was rising, I wished I could somehow slow down time.
If there were such a spell to do that, my Father had made sure I definitely didn't know it.
He quickly hugged me goodbye and sped off instantaneously, I furrowed my brow in confusion at his behaviour. Why was he in such a rush?
Mother had already briefed me on how to pass through the secret entrance from the muggle train station, into the magical one. Thank goodness she did, because my Father definitely didn't want to stick around to ensure I got there unscathed.
I began lugging my oversized trolley full of all my belongings, many of which I'd probably not need for the first term of Hogwarts, trying not to knock my owl Oswald off in the process.
He was a beautiful owl, quite large and completely white. His eyes were bright yellow and his claws black. My Father ensured I'd have the best of the bunch as far as owls go. He was quite hilarious, considering he couldn't actually speak, he sure did make me laugh.
Father ensured I had the very best of everything, my robes were tailored to fit my frame perfectly. My quill, and textbooks, the best money could buy.
He'd even tried to buy me a broom, to which I politely declined. I didn't plan on exerting any of my precious energy on a quidditch field, or more in the air above it.
"Sorry Oswald" I grimaced as he squawked aggressively, judging my inability to push a trolley in a straight line.
"I'd like to see you try and push this trolley, you fat lump" I laughed as he turned his head 90 degrees to the right, showing me he wasn't interested in what I had to say next.
I struggled all of the way to the wall I'd have to pass through. I stood in awe at how dull it truly looked, compared to what it contained.
"Hold onto your feathers" I jeered at a still very much angry Oswald, before I braced myself to charge at the seemingly solid brick wall.
I'd never even left the muggle world, so I was unsure what to expect. Yet as I ran through the wall to find myself on platform 9 3/4, everything seemed so familiar.
It was exactly as I had pictured it in my head all these years, oddly enough.
"You look like you need some help, Isabelle" I heard a voice emerge from behind me, bringing me out of my thoughts.
I turned to find a tall boy about my age I think, with ginger hair and a face full of freckles, his smile wide enough I could almost see his back teeth.
My vision then shifted to the pretty girl with mousey brown hair that stood next to him, with a scowl on her face aimed at the boy she was accompanying.
"Uhm yes, but how do you know my name?" The boy opened his mouth to reply, before he was quickly shut down by his female counterpart.
"We're in your year Isabelle, everyone's been made aware we have a new girl, and to be welcoming as it's her first time in the magic world" she smiled warmly, her face made me feel safe, and seemed awfully familiar.
"I'm Hermione, and this is Ron, who will be taking your luggage for you now and going ahead to find Harry, won't you" she spat the last two words at the boy, he quickly obeyed and grabbed my trolley from my grasp.
"Good save" he whispered before he trotted off ahead of us, leaving me alone with my new companion, Hermione.
What an oddity Ron was, I thought to myself. She rolled her eyes as he left and I laughed at her abruptness, whether I understood her reaction or not it still amused me.
"You can sit with us on the train of course, I'm sure we'll grow to be great friends Isabelle" she emphasised the word great, raising her eyebrows as though she was holding back information I was blissfully unaware of.
In the distance I watched as Ron dropped my luggage off to be loaded onto the train and ran to a dark haired boy with glasses. That must be Harry I narrated to myself.
I watched as Oswald was carefully loaded onto the train, staring at me blankly as though I'd left him for dead.
I followed Hermione eagerly through a door onto the train, copying her long strides as to not get lost within the tropes of rushing students.
The Hogwarts express was comprised of a long corridor that stretched the length of the train, and little compartments where about 8 pupils could sit together.
As we walked up the long stretch of corridor towards where we saw Harry and Ron enter a compartment, I looked at my feet.
Looking at the faces of the pupils as I walked past them filled me with anxiety as every single person was staring at me, or at least that's what it felt like. I felt eyes burning into the top of my head and managed to bump into a good few people as we made our way down the train.
Hermione grabbed my hand in hers, as she must of sensed the nervousness radiating from my body.
She stopped in her tracks abruptly causing my head to jolt up, but to my horror my legs didn't respond as quickly to the situation and I walked straight into someone's firm chest.
"H-hi Malfoy" Hermione stuttered, addressing the owner of the chest I found myself pressed against.
I quickly took a step back, expecting to see an angry face looking down at me, intending to apologise before I could be told to shove off. But as soon as I looked up I couldn't quite get the words out.
I looked up to see a tall handsome boy. I got a sickly feeling in my stomach for a moment and I couldn't stop myself from staring at him, like a deer caught in the headlights. He stared straight back at me, into my eyes. It felt as if he was looking straight into my soul.
We stood like that looking at one another for what felt like minutes, but was probably more like a mere 3 seconds. I took in every inch of his face from his strong jawline and cheekbones, to his plump pink lips that beautifully contrasted his pale skin, the same colour as the slight pink of his cheeks that was becoming more prominent as we maintained eye contact.
His eyes were bright blue like nothing I'd ever seen before. I read any magazine I could get my hands on, and watched every rom-com film you could think of, and yet never had I come across such beautiful eyes as his.
Although at this moment I could be mistaken, but they almost looked sad.
My arms felt tingly and for some deranged reason unbeknownst to me, in that moment all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around his neck. But that would be fucking weird, I think he'd probably break my nose.
On the topic of noses his was perfect, as far as noses go... His hair looked like my own, so blonde I almost felt cold just looking at it, as if it were a sheet of freshly fallen snow.
"Isabelle" he said coolly, snapping me out of my trance, his facial expression was hard to read. It was almost as though he was trying to act annoyed, but his eyes looked glazed over like he'd burst into tears any minute.
I watched intently as the protruding lump in his throat moved up and down as he swallowed, like he was suppressing something he was about to say. "So sorry" I managed to squeak in response, not quite as I'd of liked to of said it.
"It's ok, don't be sorry, my fault" his words came out so quickly, his face made me think he wished he could secretly swallow them back up and alter what he had just said. I heard a muffled laugh from the two boys on either side of him, I had barely noticed their presence until now.
"Just make sure you look where you're going, because next time I won't be so forgiving" his tone had changed completely and it was definitely evident on my face that I was somewhat scared of this boy that stood before me.
I don't understand why everything and everyone I'd seen so far seems so familiar to me. Maybe I've imagined what it would be like so many times over that I'd actually imagined the reality of what my life was to be like. And then forgotten again, making everything feel like deja vu.
Maybe I'd seen it in a dream years ago, that is what deja vu is isn't it? I mean I am a powerful pure blood witch and I can do spells non-verbally without setting foot in Hogwarts, I don't know what I'm capable of.
My mind was racing, mulling over every possibility until it was cut short. "Cat got your tongue Belle" he laughed before stopping abruptly... "Belle?" I questioned, my heart was pounding mercilessly against my chest, but I couldn't let him know that "giving me nicknames already are we Malfoy?" I said, recalling the name Hermione had called him moments before, praying so badly that I'd said it right.
Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy. I repeated the name over and over in my head, it felt so good to say. Why did it feel so good to say?
Maybe my Father knows his Father and I'd heard it in passing? Yeah that must be it. "Would you like that Isabelle?" he said, licking his teeth as his face formed a proud smirk.