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Turning twenty-one might be significant to a lot of people, it marks a point of time when you enter the adult world without restrictions of childhood. At eighteen you might receive adult privileges without all of the responsibility. At sixteen you foolishly feel on top of the world. And at thirteen you think you're no longer a kid. However, ones entire life changes at the ripe age of eleven when part of the wizarding world.
So on the dawn of July 31st, Eloise Malfoy was awake before anyone else in the household. She grinned at the letter in her hand that she'd received the week before. Of course, she knew she was meant to wait for her cousin to rise so that they might return their owls of notice together, but she wanted to get just one more look at her letter before the day truly began.
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HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF
WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear, Miss Malfoy,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
𝑀𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓇𝓋𝒶 𝑀𝒸𝒢𝑜𝓃𝒶𝑔𝒶𝓁𝓁
Deputy Headmistress
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"Mother said we'd send them together," Draco interrupted the silence. He descended the stairwell, crossing his arms as he stopped in front of her.
"I thought you were still on the fence about Durmstrang," Eloise replied, folding up her letter. "And I haven't even sent the owl yet, so just relax."
"Durmstrang was Father's idea," Draco reminded her. "Mother doesn't want me attending school so far from home. She probably just wants me to keep you out of trouble."
"Please," Eloise scoffed. "Between the two of us, I think trouble favors you."
Draco's lips pursed as if building up a series of contradictions; however, that's when the boy's parents descended the stairs—each coming from opposite ends of the hall to meet at the stairwell in the center.
"Do be quiet, children," Lucius sighed, rubbing between his eyes as if five seconds in their presence could actually give him a headache. "You'll wake our guests."
Eloise and Draco glanced at one another before resigning to silence. The guests that her uncle had mentioned were that of one Mr. Benedict Edevane and one Ms. Lavinia Gaunt: both individuals of high society and pure-blood status. Common guests in the Malfoy household, if one didn't know better, they might have assumed the pair as residents with how often they frequented the premises.
Mr. Edevane was a—well, Eloise wasn't actually sure what the man did for a living. To be honest, she couldn't even say what he uncle did. It was all very hush-hush. What she did know, was that Mr. Edevane was constantly traveling. He never said what for, but she did appreciate the gifts that he'd bring back for her and Draco. He was quite like an extended uncle that one never knew when he was bound to show up. He was a tall man with dark hair and a couple silver streaks here and there. He was usually found with a tie around his neck and a briefcase of oddities at his side.
Ms. Gaunt was a widow. Eloise had to ask her Aunt Narcissa what that had meant when she first heard the term, but now she understood it to be someone who was once married and now is not. Apparently, Ms. Gaunt's first husband died under mysterious circumstances—as well as the others that followed—yet her prestige in society as a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself was enough to keep the aurors at bay. She was an angular woman with dark hair and cold eyes. She always wore black, and often had a veil covering her face—the only exception being when she stepped foot inside the Malfoy household.
"Come now, Dear," Narcissa placed a hand on her husband's arm. "The children are just excited. And we've put this whole thing off long enough because you were insistent that Draco attend Durmstrang."
"And yet he's attending Hogwarts," Lucius countered as if to remind his wife that she'd gotten her way.
"Not if we don't get the letter sent," Eloise added, brushing some of her golden-ginger hair from her eyes. "Today's the last day."
"I'm sure they'd make an exception," Narcissa calmed the girl with a smile, running her fingers through the girl's fluffy curls. "I don't think I need to remind either of you that our family name holds quite a bit of power."
"And power is the key that unlocks doors," Eloise quoted with a smile and a giggle. "We're still going to get our supplies today, right?"
"Of course, darling," Narcissa agreed. "But I believe the kitchen has a surprise waiting."
Lucius stood back and watched a moment as his wife led both his son and his niece into the kitchen. There was a fond look in his eye, reserved only to be seen within his own household. To the outside world, ice was the only thing they'd find in his eyes and he liked it that way.
Although Narcissa had originally thought the additional child to be a nuisance and burden, Eloise had quickly won her favor. Of course she'd never be Draco, but she was as close to a daughter as they'd ever have. His sister never mentioned the girl's father—he had his suspicions—and he never asked. For if they knew, they might look at her differently. In their eyes, she was a pure-blood Malfoy. And that was the lie spoken to the public when Cordelia Malfoy disappeared, never to be seen again.
The deep clearing of a throat on the stairwell above stole Lucius's attention. He turned his head, facing Benedict as the man descended, adjusting his tie with briefcase in hand.
"I'm off."
"So soon?" Lucius asked. "You've just returned from America..."
"Time waits for no man," Benedict replied with a cheeky smile and wink. "I'm off for India this time 'round. I know you were dying to ask."
Lucius pursed his lips and lifted a brow, although revealing little, he was amused all the same. "And how long?"
"However long it takes," Benedict replied vaguely. "Don't worry, I'll bring back something nice... and maybe find something for you too."
Lucius rolled his eyes, but offered a parting nod of his head as Benedict passed by to exit through the front door. The man was eccentric, but it was a trait entrusted to be shown only to a select few. As if summoned by a thought, Dobby scurried forward, opening then closing the door behind their guest.
"Dobby has prepared breakfast for the master," the house elf trembled, stooping into a bow.
Lucius hardly paid the creature a second glance, leaving the foyer to follow the rest of his family into the kitchen... where Narcissa and Lavinia had already started morning tea. Lavinia's veil was pushed back, almost like she were a bride in black, as she sipped her tea... nodding her head ever so slightly in Lucius's direction to address his presence.
"What do you think, darlings?" Lavinia asked the children, but her challenging gaze remained focused on Lucius.
"This is a brand new broomstick!" Draco exclaimed with delight, then noticing the look he received from his father, calmed down a bit. "I mean, it's alright. It's no Nimbus-2000, that's for sure."
Eloise was silent though as she held the small, silver locket in hand. Her fingers almost trembled as she traced her fingers along the intricate snake engravings.
"A pretty little thing, isn't it? Cissa saw it in one of the shops this weekend and insisted that it was just perfect," Lavinia explained. "I'm sure we could get a magical portrait made—"
"I hope you don't mind that I've already taken the liberty of putting something inside," Lucius interrupted, returning Lavinia's look of challenge.
Eloise slowly nodded her head, wiping away a single tear that rolled down the side of her cheek. "It's my mother..."
And indeed it was, a young moving portrait of Cordelia Malfoy when she wasn't much older than Eloise herself. The girl's white-blonde hair was unmistakable as she giggled. Even at eleven or twelve, she'd perfected that Malfoy sense of grace with not even a single hair misplaced.
Lucius frowned. "Is there something wrong with it?"
Eloise quickly shook her head, smiling with a broken chuckle. "No, it's perfect. Thank you so much."
"Of course, Darling." Narcissa smile. "We had to do something special for your eleventh. Now eat up, we've a busy day ahead of us."
"And what of the owls?" Lucius asked. "You were so eager to send them before."
"Too eager to wait for you, Dear," Narcissa agreed, still smiling. "They sent them off while you were parting with Mr. Edevane."
Lucius briefly looked offended and from there the conversation only continued, most of which Eloise and Draco didn't pick up as they were too preoccupied with the gifts they'd received. Dobby had set out breakfast, unnoticed until the smell of eggs and sausages wafted into the air.
Eloise clasped the chain of the locket around her neck, unable to take her eyes away from the glittering silver as she continued to trace the decals. And beside her, Draco was once more enraptured by the broomstick that he wouldn't even get to use until the following year. Casually, Eloise glanced over her shoulder to where her Aunt and Uncle continued their conversation.
"Do you ever notice that your parents never sleep in the same room when Mr. Edevane and Ms. Gaunt are visiting?" Eloise whispered out the side of her mouth to Draco sitting beside her.
Draco choked on the bite of eggs he'd just tried to swallow. Once his throat was clear, he pointed toward Eloise accusingly. "Shut up! At least I still have parents."
Eloise rolled her eyes. It seemed to be her cousin's most popular retort whenever he was even minorly peeved with her. She'd heard every orphan joke out of the book, and it was unbearable up until the point that she turned eight. She'd learned the word inbred that year and made a subtle jest. Draco stopped most of his jokes from then on, realizing that his cousin finally learned to hold her own against him. So this time when he rebutted, she knew it was half-hearted and that he didn't really mean it.
"See me out?" Lavinia asked, standing from the table before approaching the front door. Narcissa gently squeezed Lucius's shoulder then followed Lavinia to the door. Only once their home was free of house guests did the Malfoys prepare for Diagon Alley.
Diagon Alley was vibrant with life and color this time of year. It almost looked like every young witch and wizard was in town, gathering their supplies for the upcoming term. And the heavenly smells coming from the sweets shoppes only seemed to attract more people.
"What all was on the list again?" Eloise asked as they walked down the cobblestone street.
"Three sets of plain black work robes, one plain black pointed hat for day wear, one pair of protective gloves, and one winter cloak," Draco replied as if he'd memorized the list. "A whole bunch of course books, one wand, one cauldron, one set of crystal phials, one telescope, and one set of brass scales."
"Why don't the two of you head in to Madam Malkin's," Narcissa suggested. "It could take a while to have your robes fitted."
With quiet obedience, the children listened. They entered the shop and it took a matter of seconds to be led across the room to their own pedestals where their robes would be fitted.
"You don't suppose it will actually take long, do you?" Draco asked. "I'd like to take a look in some of the shops."
"I doubt this will take all day," Eloise confirmed, rolling her eyes lightly. "You just want to see if you can get your hands on some Quidditch equipment."
"And why wouldn't I?" Draco asked. "It's better to start early with these things. Though I could start later and still excel. I have a sense for these things."
"For what things?" Eloise asked, trying to face her cousin. However, at the risk of being pricked, the tailor kept her still.
"Greatness," Draco replied with a grin.
Eloise scoffed with a laugh as she played along. "Was it greatness that threw you from your broom two summers ago?"
"I told you that the winds changed," Draco insisted, crossing his arms. His tailor wasn't quick enough to pull away, allowing Draco to be pricked. The boy whined as a drop of blood fell from his hand. "Ow! You've cut me! My father—"
"Draco, it's a scratch," Eloise contradicted. "And it's your own fault anyway."
Draco muttered under his breath, briefly embarrassed that his cousin called him out. The bell to the front door chimed and a moment later, another boy was situated to be fitted. As Madam Malkin slipped a long robe over the boy's head—knocking his glasses sideways as the fabric temporarily caught—and began to pin the frantic to the right length, Draco turned in his direction.
"Hello. Hogwarts too?" he asked.
The boy nodded his head, trying to adjust his glasses. "Yes."
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," Draco said. It almost sounded as if he were bored, adding a drawl to his voice that Eloise knew for a fact was fake. But she also knew her cousin acted differently around family than he did others. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms—"
"You just got a new one this morning," Eloise proclaimed. "You don't think they'll buy you another do you?"
"I'll just bully father into buying me one," Draco replied. Silently, the challenging look in his eye offered a bet. Without hesitation she accepted it. The boy stuck in the middle looked between them confused. "I don't see why first years can't have their own. Either way, I'll figure out how to smuggle one in somehow."
"Maybe you can hide it in that ego of yours," Eloise playfully retorted. "It's certainly big enough."
The boy smiled, slowly lifting a hand to cover his quiet snickering. Madam Malkin briefly chastised the movement before returning to her work.
"Have you got your own broom?" Draco asked, oblivious to the prior interaction while ignoring his cousin's remark.
"No," the boy shook his head.
"Play Quidditch at all?" Draco went on.
"No..." the boy's answer was hesitant, as if he didn't completely understand what Draco was talking about.
"I do—Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree." It was almost like Draco just enjoyed hearing himself talk... which Eloise could confirm was true. "Know what house you'll be in yet?"
"No," the boy answered. Eloise could see that the he was growing more discouraged with each answer.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been—imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" Draco continued his little rant.
However, Eloise could also tell that although her cousin was showing off, he wasn't trying to put down the other boy. It was just the only way he knew how to communicate. The only reason Eloise wasn't the same was because she'd grown up listening to Draco rather than actually participating in the conversation.
"Hmm..." was the boy's reply.
"Does it really matter which house?" Eloise asked. "You're learning magic all the same."
The boy nodded his head as if he agreed, allowing himself to smile as he looked over at Eloise. "It's got to be amazing, right?"
"Precisely my thought," Eloise agreed. "I can't even begin to imagine all that we'll learn and see."
"It's certainly a lot to take in though," the boy noted. "There's so much to remember and so much more I don't understand."
Eloise eagerly nodded her head, misinterpreting what he meant. But before she could reply, Draco nodded toward the window with a sudden exclamation. "I say, look at that man!"
"That's Hagrid," the boy almost looked pleased that he knew something Draco didn't. Just outside the window, Hagrid stood grinning at the boy while pointing to the pair of large ice creams in his hand as if to explain why he couldn't come inside. The boy smiled just as wide. "He works at Hogwarts."
"Oh," Draco sounded less than impressed. "I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?"
"He's the gamekeeper," the boy corrected, his lips curling into a small frown that Draco overlooked.
"Yes, exactly," Draco agreed as if the boy had said the same thing. "I heard he's sort of a savage—lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tried to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."
"I think he's brilliant," the boy returned coldly.
"Do you?" Draco asked with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"
"They're dead," the boy replied shortly.
"Oh, sorry," Draco replied, sounding the very opposite. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"
"You can't just go asking that question," Eloise hissed, but her cousin dismissed it.
True, even she thought a bit less of the muggle-born wizards and witches, but that was the family ideology. It really only made sense that they wouldn't be as strong, they weren't raised in the ways of magic. That didn't mean they should hold it against their kind. She almost pitied them really. However, they'd been told a multitude of times that many of the discussions held in the Malfoy household were meant to stay in the Malfoy household.
"They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean," the boy replied.
"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you?" Draco asked rhetorically before returning to his spiel. "They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they got the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in old wizarding families. What's your surname anyway?"
Before the boy could answer, Madam Malkin took a step back and dusted her hands. "That's you done, my dear."
The boy hopped down from the footstool and headed for the front door as if he couldn't leave the conversation soon enough. Draco turned his attention back toward the mirror. "Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose."
The bell chimed as the boy left the building. Eloise rolled her eyes and huffed under her breath before glaring at her cousin.
"What?" Draco asked, knitting his brows together in confusion.
"I think you scared him off," Eloise replied. "Besides, you started saying more than you should have. Just because it's true, doesn't mean it needs to be said."
"And I think that's it for the two of you," Madam Malkin interjected, sounding as if she was exhausted from just listening to the cousins' playful banter and squabbling.
"Mother's probably ready for us at Ollivander's anyway," Draco agreed, dusting himself off.
Eloise paid with the galleons that her uncle had handed her prior to entering the shop. Once their robes were packaged, they walked down the cobblestone street into the wand shop on the corner. Narcissa was waiting inside, speaking with an elderly man.
The man turned toward the cousins with a glimmer in his eyes. "Welcome. I suppose you're looking to buy your first wands, yes?"
Whatever animosity was left between the two faded as they were fascinated by the aura of magic surrounding them. Eloise could feel it in the air almost like she could reach out and touch it.
"I'll be right back," the elderly gentleman said, holding up a finger before turning his back to retrieve a pair of wands.
"I bet mine will be bigger than yours," Draco whispered.
"You're on," Eloise whispered back with a competitive giggle, "but I'm warning you now that you'll owe me a Galleon at this rate."
"You'll eat those words," Draco retorted.
"Ah," Ollivander returned with a couple boxes, setting them down on the counter. He handed Draco a sleek, dark wand. "Let's try this one."
Draco grinned, taking the wand in hand. He lifted it in the air, waving it around the shop as if playing about that he might cast a spell. He laughed as the tip began to glow a light gold.
"Hawthorn and unicorn hair," Ollivander described the characteristics of the wand. "Ten inches. Reasonably springy. And it seems to have chosen you."
"On my first try?" Draco asked, pleased with himself as if he were being timed.
Ollivander nodded his head, then turned toward Eloise. "Now for you, young lady, a maple with unicorn hair. Seven inches. Nice and Flexible."
Draco scoffed at the length, holding up his own ten inch. However, the instant the wand touched Eloise's hand, Ollivander snatched it back.
"No, no, that's not right." Ollivander shook his head, then paused almost as if he recognized her. "You've got your mother's eyes..."
He glanced behind him at the shelf, almost hesitant as he pulled out a wand and offered it out to her. "This one's an unusual combination. Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
Eloise shared his hesitance, almost as if she feared it were another mistake. Slowly, she took the wand in hand, feeling the knotted wood in the plan of her hand. However, the wand failed to interact like Draco's had. It remained absolutely still, though she could feel the magic resonating inside the wand and a thrumming power that almost touched her mind like a whisper.
Ollivander released a sigh. Disappointed or relieved, she couldn't tell. He took the wand back, gentler this time. "I wanted to test a theory... after all, you were born on the same day."
Eloise felt her heart stutter and trip for a moment. She knew exactly whom Ollivander had been referring to, she'd heard it most of her life. She couldn't go a single year without being reminded that she was born on the same day as the chosen one.
"No matter..." Ollivander glanced over his shoulder then looked back at the young girl with a spark in his eye. "I think I've got something in the back. Something special for a special day."
As Ollivander walked back to retrieve the wand he'd mentioned, Eloise took a breath then turned back toward Draco. "It's not to late to drop out."
Draco scoffed. "At this rate you'll be lucky to find a wand at all."
"Yeah, but mine's going to be special," Eloise countered as the two began to go back and forth in a sing-songy pitch.
"I bet he says that to all the wizards who can't find one to speed up the process," Draco retorted. "Or maybe you just need an extra-special wand to make up for your lack of natural talent."
She flicked him in the ear and he whined. Narcissa finally looked away from the shelf of wands that she'd been perusing to shoot a glance in their direction. Eloise feigned innocence while Draco continued to rub his ear.
"Here we are," Ollivander reannounced his presence. He opened the case that contained the wand to reveal a warm, dark wood. "Elder wood and dragon heartstring. Twelve and a half inches. Hard flexibility."
"Elder wood?" Eloise questioned. "What kind of tree does that come from?"
"An exceedingly rare one," Ollivander replied. "Not many wand makers are willing to sell wands like this in their shops, and certainly not to a customer they believe will blend in with the rest. No, elder wood is reserved for those who will rise above their peers."
As Ollivander continued to explain the lore behind the craftsmanship of the wand, Eloise notice that Draco bristled with jealousy. He'd crossed his arms and turned his back, looking at his own wand as if trying to convince himself that his was still better because he'd found it first.
"Elder wood is trickier to master than most other woods though," Ollivander said. "But remember it's the wand that chooses the wizard."
Eloise reached out for the wand and Ollivander's smile grew. Before her hand even connected with the wand, the room grew brighter as if the wood claimed her before she could claim it.
"Congratulations," Ollivander said. "It looks like great things are in store for you... and happy birthday."
"Thank you," Eloise whispered, unable to take her eyes away from the wand.
By the time they returned to the manor, dusk had fallen and stars began to twinkle in the evening sky. Dinner was quiet and rather uneventful, and the routine of the evening set in. Lucius locked himself away in his office and Narcissa retired to the library, leaving Draco and Eloise to themselves in the common room.
Most of their school supplies had been set aside, so that they'd remain in one place until it was time to pack for the school year. However, Draco had convinced his father to allow him a few more minutes with the broomstick he'd received that morning.
Eloise cleared her throat then held out her hand expectantly. Draco rolled his eyes with a huff before handing over a sickle. She cleared her throat again, and begrudgingly, he handed over a second.
"I should've increased the wager to a Galleon," Eloise remarked.
"You got lucky," Draco contradicted. "Usually father wouldn't hesitate to take me inside the Quidditch shop, but since you took so long to pick a wand..."
Eloise scoffed, cutting him off. "Right, it's my fault."
"Glad we can agree." But behind the faux animosity, Eloise could see him smile.
It was all in good fun really, a little healthy competition. Sometimes she'd win, sometimes he'd win, but mostly she'd win. She only let him think otherwise. The two had a bond most never experienced in their lifetime. Although they knew how to annoy one another to no end, they also had a severe sense of loyalty for the other. Lucius had once said their family blood tied them together. And they took that to heart.
"What if I'm not a Slytherin?" Eloise broke the silence. "What if I get sorted into Hufflepuff?"
"I thought you didn't care," Draco countered.
"I don't," Eloise protested. Her demeanor softened as she began to fidget with the locket around her neck.
"You? A Hufflepuff?" Draco chuckled. "You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?"
"Just play along," she nudged his shoulder. "What if I don't get sorted into Slytherin?"
"Well..." Draco hesitated. He then lightened the mood with his coy smile. "I'd probably make fun of you—"
"Draco."
"—But then," he continued, interrupting her interjection, "we'd just carry on like normal. Nothing needs to change."
Eloise wrapped her arms around her cousin as she pulled him into a tight hug. He allowed it to go on for a couple of seconds before he pushed her away. He refused to let her think he was softening since he still believed there was a reputation to uphold even in their own household.
Draco cleared his throat. "But that's not going to be a problem because there's no doubt that you'll be a Slytherin. I say after one week we'll be running the place."
Eloise laughed. "Is that a bet?"
"Yes," Draco agreed, but quickly retracted his statement. "No, it's a goal. Something to work toward."
"Then maybe give yourself a little more than a week," Eloise playfully suggested. She paused, looking down at the locket once more. Watching as her mother giggled in the moving portrait. "Do you think I look like her?"
Draco glanced over then shrugged. "I don't know... maybe a little in the eyes. The rest of you is a bit different though. Your hair is darker—"
"It's not that much darker," Eloise self-consciously brushed her curls from her eyes.
"—You've got loads of freckles where her skin is flawless," Draco added. "You tan more than the rest of us too. I mean, I step outside and feel like I'm burning."
"That's because you're a vampire," Eloise retorted. "Now would you take this seriously? I just want to know if... any part of me is like her. That way I'll know I'm not just trespassing."
"You're a Malfoy," Draco replied. "Of course you belong here. It's our pure-blood birthright."
Eloise chuckled bitterly under her breath, looking down at the ground. "And what if my dad's not a pure-blood?"
"We'll never know," Draco insisted, brushing the comment aside. "Don't take this the wrong way, but if he wanted to be involved in your life then you wouldn't be living here with us."
"You're right," she half-heartedly agreed, eyes still locked on the hardwood floor.
"Our blood ties us together." Draco leaned forward to lift her eyes from the ground. "Pure and strong. Nothing can come between that... even if you get sorted into Hufflepuff."
She laughed and rolled her eyes, brushing away any tears before they could fall. "Thank you... sometimes you can be pretty great."
"We're Malfoys, greatness is our destiny," Draco remarked with a cocky smile. He paused for a moment then sighed as he outstretched his arms. "One more hug."
Eloise beamed then wrapped her arms around her cousin for the second time that evening. Once he'd had enough, he gently pushed her away again, grabbed his broom, and exited the room with a genuine "good night". Eloise retired to her own room pretty soon after. Sinking under her covers in the dark of night to finally get some rest after such a long day.
In just one month she'd be on her way to the train station and from there it was only a hop, skip, and a jump to Hogwarts. The place where she might finally receive some answers. And as her eyes drooped closed, her fingers once more traced over the snake decals of the locket.
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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | And we've started with chapter one! A little bit of a lengthier chapter, but there was so much about the Malfoy family I wanted to show. I'm so excited for the potential of this series and to dive deeper into some of the canon relationships that we don't really get to see. Although it took a little time for Narcissa to warm up to her, she looks at Eloise as her own daughter. Which means Eloise was raised to have the same virtues and beliefs as Draco, she's just a little more hesitant to express them. Draco's the confident talkative one, Eloise falls more under the strong silent type. Their dynamic is going to be so interesting to play around with later down the line.
I'd love to hear your thoughts about what you think. As always, don't be shy to leave a comment and don't forget to vote!