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"My apologies, if you die I'll make sure to knock and wait for your response!"
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
In the countryside of the town, miles away and out of muggle sight, was a manor. There it sat, tall and desolate, hedges and vines surrounding it. The sun was setting, and sitting in the gardens of the estate along with the view of a small pond sat a girl.
With her jet-black hair gently waving in the summer breeze and a quill rested upon her right hand, Estella Nott thought about what she should write to her friends, whom she would see in less than a week back at Hogwarts. Next to her, a boy with the same features as her was laying on the ground, attempting to twirl his wand in his left hand.
"Theo, watch where you're twirling that damn wand before you slice my eyes out!" Estella turned to him and hit his head with her blank piece of parchment.
A grin formed on his face, and before she knew it, there was a sharp pain in her shoulder. Her brother had poked her with the tip of his wand. Theodore Nott turned away as his sister flicked his forehead with her fingers.
"Who're you writing to?" he asked, scooting closer to get a better view of the parchment.
"I was gonna write to Ron, not that it's your business."
"But father checks the mail. You know how he feels abou-"
"I don't give a damn if father doesn't like me hanging out with them. Plus, you've been covering for me for two years." Estella looked at her brother.
"He's gonna find out, Este," Theo sighed, "I'm going to write as well." He grabbed some parchment and a quill, then wrote something addressed to Blaise Zabini.
"Not if you keep covering for me."
The boy pursed his lips. "What will you say when father asks why you're writing to a 'blood traitor?' "
"Don't call him that." Estella looked at him in disgust.
"I was mimicking what he would say."
They heard the back door open, and out came a house-elf yelling, "Miss and Mister Nott! Food is prepared!"
"Coming!" Theo called back while Estella followed, pocketing her quill.
The inside of the manor casted a gloomy mood. Stella preferred the acres of land outside much more than the cold floors of her home. They walked to their dining room, passing old portraits of ancestors; a whole family of purebloods. Right outside the entrance to the dining hall was pictures and belongings regarding their late mother, Christina. The twins' father never mentioned how she died, but when Estella thought about it something felt odd in her head.
The Notts often ate in silence; only the clanking of the silverware sounded through the manor. Then, their father, Tiberius Nott, cleared his throat and spoke firmly, "Have the house-elves prepared your luggage for tomorrow?"
