𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 '𝟗𝟔 ; 𝐝. 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲 ✓

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞

11:34 am
June 6, 1985

"Now, Draco. Don't get stingy with those presents of yours." Narcissa Malfoy scolds while adjusting the collar of her youthful sons classy polo. "I know how you get around other kids."

Her stubborn son huffs. Stares at his father with an apprehensive gaze, hoping to earn sympathy from his mothers advice. Lucius Malfoy just smirks.

"Son, you act like making faces behind your mothers back is going to earn you my approval. These new neighbors of ours are your mother and I's great friends, you must be on your best behavior."

Draco glares at the door while his mother stabilizes the inflexible gel dolloped in his pale locks. His gaze shifts back to her, among her gentle smile and sparse laugh-lines pining across her features. Her silvery eyes stare back graciously into his. She holds a love for him that cannot be reciprocated despite obstacles.

Narcissa stands, adjusts her elegant black attire while glimpsing to Lucius, who bears a dark tuxedo. A classy family—dressing for the greeting of old friends.

A homemade luncheon sits on the table, it's savory scent flooding the atmosphere—drowning the vigorous scent of Narcissa's famous teakwood candles. Draco spares a couple of glances to his parents before slithering off to the grand dining room, grazing upon the selection of food.

He curls his lip when coming face to face with an asparagus entreé. "Yuck."

The tell-tale clicking of his mothers heels resound throughout the rafters—she emerges from the threshold and takes his hand. "Draco Lucius! Our guests will be arriving any moment now, and you mustn't sneak off and devour our meal out of greed! Come back to the foyer." She insists coldly.

Draco and Narcissa rush back into the foyer, in perfect timing for the doorbell to amplify throughout the house.

"Where did he go?" Lucius inquires, glancing skeptically to his five-year-old—and very cheeky—son.

"Dining room. I assume trying to steal the food."

Draco just snickers slightly, masking his grin behind his shirt.

Narcissa heaves the sumptuous door from its lock, revealing another high-class family—opulent, indeed. Possibly not nearly as posh as the Malfoys, they bore more floral and pastel patterns.

"My goodness, Lucia! It's been years!" Narcissa grins graciously while pulling her dearest friend into a delicate and tender hug, carefully kissing both blush-painted cheeks.

"Narcissa, you look absolutely beautiful. Not a day over thirty, I daresay!" The woman replies with a pleasant simper.

Bennett and Lucius welcome in such an orderly way—old friends, they are. They shake hands—slap on the back, like a brotherly bond.

"Good to see you, Armstrong. How are you holding up, eh?"

"Well. Very well, thank you. And you?"

"Wonderful. I assume you've met our son, Draco?"

Lucia doubles to eye level with the childlike boy, extending a hand for him to shake. "It's nice to meet you, Draco! Your mother and father have said such excellent things about you. I heard you enjoy Quidditch?"

Draco timidly nods, taking the more elder woman's hand. "I love Quidditch! Want to see my new broom I got for my birthday yesterday? It's the new Cleansweep model!"

Lucius scoffs. "Now, Draco! Don't boast to our guests. Your mother has taught you to always be humble."

"Right, sorry father!"

"Your birthday was yesterday, hm?" Lucia begins, completely ignorant to Lucius' snarky comment to his son. "How old are you?"

"I'm five!" The blond retorts cheerfully.

"Well isn't that a coincidence!" Lucia shifts her stance slightly. "My daughter is five in a couple months, but I assume you'll be in the same year at school, yeah?"

Bennett encourages the hidden girl from behind Lucias dress. She doesn't budge—not even merely.

"Oh, I do apologize. She's quite shy around new people." Lucia chuckles.

From behind Lucias leg emerges a youthful girl, four in age—and quite stunning for her age, as well.

Draco clutches his heart, furrowing his sparse brows and scoffing. A slight sting twinges inside of his heart strings—through each nerve—especially when he meets eyes with the extraordinary girl.

Her eyes are like gazing among an ocean. Ripples of silvery tints tumble and weave through the overall blue hue—meeting to the dull center of her pupils. They glow in the rays of the sun. Glow. Illuminate. They pair flawlessly with her semi-tanned skin, and the blush on her somewhat plump cheeks with youth. She wears a floral sundress, similar to her mothers—and impeccable, ebony curls drown her tiny frame.

"I-I'm Draco." He stutters in awe, slightly in no understanding why his heart had such an airy and anxious feeling.

Her lips stay sealed, and a brittle blush braids through her magnificent and starry freckles.

"Introduce yourself, darling." Her mother advises warmly.

"I'm Estelle." The minute girl chirps.

The luncheon carries on from there. Narcissa ventures the charismatic family through her magnificent home, Bennett and Lucia both in extreme astonishment at the superb crafting of the home. They enjoy their gourmet food—well, everyone but Draco—who bears a few bitter scoldings from his father until he actually feeds himself.

Concluding their encounter, Narcissa and Lucius dismiss Lucia and Bennett to their home again, as it was becoming rather late. The chatter seemed to diminish the time. Before officially exiting, Draco spared another word to Estelle.

"Good-bye, Estelle."

She shyly glances to him. "Bye-bye, Draco."

His heart thumps harder when the door finally slams.

"Mother!" He sputters furiously, "That—that girl! She— she has some sort of jinx, or a curse—I know she does!"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, Draco?" Lucius replies, perplexed.

"It's her eyes!" He widens his eyes and gestures to them, "They're haunted!"

Narcissa chuckles. "Draco, that's completely nonsensical!"

"No, mother. I felt it, right here!" He slams a fist dramatically to his chest. "It hurt! It stung! Like you know the feeling in the carriage when you're going down a hill! Or— or while swinging!" He points his teeny finger to the teetering swing in the backyard adjacent to the grand woods, "That's how it felt right here. Her eyes are cursed, with a spell! You taught me about Dark Magic— I know what it does—"

"Draco, Draco. Calm down."

Lucius and Narcissa exchange appalled, but knowing glances, as a smirk flourishes across both of their lips.

"They're cursed. I know they are."

"The girls eyes are not cursed, Draco. You'll know when you're older."

"Much, much older..."