The Malfoy Project

𝟓𝟏 - 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

༻⚜༺     

     I allowed Ainsley to lead me back out completely blind. I grumbled when her fickle instructions made me trip over a step and sighed when my shoulder nudged a wall, but kept my eyes firmly shut.

     As we walked, I ran the map of the house in my head, trying to tell where we were going from the twists and turns she was leading me through. It was fuzzy, but I could just make out the hallways, the corridor past the ballroom, the study where I had found her earlier.

     The front doors rumbled open, and a blast of stinging cold air hit me, singeing the tip of my nose instantly. I thought she would've asked me to open my eyes then, but she did not. Down the steps of the porch we went, to the driveway, and then onwards into the winter darkness.

     We walked for what felt like hours. The wind was dreadful, chilling me to the bone. I could feel the snow sprinkling down, blooming ice cold where it came into contact with my scalp and skin. Ten steps down the driveway and I had already lost all sense of where we were.

     "Just a little while more, I promise," she said at least three times. I thought of opening my eyes, because I was certain I would have to pretend to be surprised at whatever unsurprising thing she was about to give me anyway. But I was determined not ruin this for her. After all, my own gift had been a failure. 

     We made a sharp left, and suddenly it was warm. It was as if we were not in the bleak midwinter, but smack-dab in the middle of a balmy May morning. Foliage rustled against my suit, and I could feel some sort of ceiling above my head. The air was damp with the scent of fresh wet leaves, the petrichor tickling my nose pleasantly. 

     My feet crunched the ground, ground I have walked on many times before. A memory struck me, and suddenly, I knew what I was going to find. Despite this, I hastily reigned in my anticipation — nothing was worse than premature happiness. 

     A distant melody of tinkling bells drifted quietly towards us, the tinny, high sound of metal being struck. We finally came to a stop. 

     "Okay," Ainsley said. "Open."

     We were enclosed in four walls of hedges dark, dark green. They towered above us, restored to their full, glorious height. Hundreds of glowbugs nestled amongst the leaves, dotting the perimeter like twinkling Christmas lights. Here, we were untouched by the wind and snow. They blew in the air all around us, but never touched the hedges, as if stopped by an invisible dome.

     At the base of the hedges, bushes were in full bloom. All the flowers had grown back even bigger and brighter, flaunting their rainbow hues in the blue-black light. In place of the neon-orange Flitterby moths were butterflies, no bigger than the size of my pinky. They danced on the dew-dropped petals; their iridescent wings flashed cyan and purple. And instead of humming like the Flitterbys, they chimed like the tinkling sounds of a music box, the individual staccato notes forming an indistinct but pretty melody.

     My gaze unavoidably landed on the swing in the middle of the velvet grass; a large benched structure with four seats. This one was painted a deep midnight blue that, in the darkness, reflected the shimmer of the butterflies' wings.

     "What do you think?" Ainsley sounded pleased with herself. "I know it's not exactly the same, but Flitterbys are not as easily found as I thought. Hagrid has loads, apparently, but I didn't really know how to ask him, so I got the butterflies instead. Bought a pair and let them do their thing. I hope you don't mind. You can cast Muffliato over them if the music gets too loud." She jogged around, pointing out the changes to me.