𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑲 𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬𝑫𝒀 [𝑺𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑼𝑺 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲]

iv.

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CHORUS: Enough for me to groan aloud often, from a gloomy heart

-Agamemnon, Aeschylus

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Phaedra was quick to adapt to a life at school. She much preferred it to life in Malfoy Manor; though she wouldn't claim either were a home. Malfoy Manor was far too cold - too absent of any light or warmth. Their only decor were portraits of their ancestors - all bearing the same curtain of pale-blonde hair and startling grey eyes; and so Phaedra was reminded everyday that she was not like the others. And that meant, too, that Abraxas Malfoy was reminded everyday that his youngest daughter was different.

It was for that very reason that Malfoy Manor wasn't a home - Phaedra thought that a home ought to be where someone feels safe and content; where they are nurtured and cared for, supported through everything they do. The youngest Malfoy didn't think she had felt that way since Sirius had stopped caring to show her that it was possible. Neither her father nor brother would ever show Phaedra that love was something obtainable.

She supposed Lucius was the closest thing she had to a companion in the gray halls of their home; she supposed she loved her brother, in the way that seems only natural for two siblings, but neither were affectionate. The closest thing she to love she received from her brother were small, reassuring smiles and his subtle guidance.

But at school, she felt on edge. Like she was being watched, and constantly judged - simply because she was a Slytherin. Perhaps she would have been kinder to a fair few students if they hadn't instantly assumed she was a despicable person. She wasn't unaware of the dirty glares she received, and the people who sneered at her back simply because of the color of her tie. Students she had never met nor spoken to would grimace simply when she entered the room. It only soured her mood.

She was relieved when Saturday morning came; a break from classes was all the girl needed. She was exhausted - every night was spent studying and writing essays. Sometimes she would practice spells, though it never went as well as the girl found herself hoping it would.

"You'll get it soon," Andromeda's voice was soft, and she placed a hand on Phaedra's shoulder, a warm smile on her face, "It just takes practice."

"It's my stupid wand," Phaedra complained, glaring at the useless piece of wood in her hands. She didn't know why it would choose her and then refuse to listen to any of her commands. She sneered at the Carrow twins when they snickered from their spot on the black leather couch - she knew they delighted in seeing her fail. Bellatrix hit the back of Amycus' head, scowling at the boy. She extended her wand to Phaedra, nodding encouragingly, "Why don't we try something new?"

"Your wand?" Phaedra hesitated, biting her lip. She didn't know why any other wand would work when even the one who chose her wouldn't. But Bellatrix nodded, and Phaedra gently exchanged their wands - hers was a dark wood - walnut, if she had to guess - and was curved at a slight angle. Phaedra quickly wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt and tentatively raised the wand, experimentally flicking her wrist. Bellatrix rummaged around her messenger bag and pulled out a small glass vial. She gave a victorious cheer and smashed it on the ground, shaking her fists slightly when it shattered. She then looked up at Phaedra expectantly and motioned towards the shards. Andromeda tip-toed around the glass and settled on the couch beside her sister; she gave the pale-haired girl an encouraging nod.

"Reparo," Phaedra's voice was shaky, barely audibly. The small glass shards levitated, floating closer together before dropping back to the ground. Amycus snickered, but he was quickly silenced by a violent glare from Bellatrix. Andromeda smiled lightly, "Try it more confidently. Reparo."