The Lost Prophecy | Year One

Les Trois Mousquetaires

Desmond Selwyn was running across the shoreline with a handful of the seashells he had picked up earlier that evening. The howling wind almost knocked the five-year-old into the lake as he crouched down to pick up the violet seashell that was about to be washed away into the lake by the waves. He held the shell firmly in his hand as a triumphant smile crept on his face. This would mostly complete his seashells collection, and he could finally learn how to fly on a broom, just like his brother and sister. The very thought of being able to fly made him giddy with excitement. He could feel the wind in his hair, covering his sea-green eyes, making it difficult for him to see.

A sudden realization dawned upon him. He had to get back inside the house before anyone could discover he wasn't in his room. He took one last glance at the lake, before dashing back towards the house through the back gate, which lead him straight to the living room.

"What are you doing here?" rang the voice, startling Desmond.

"Red!"

Scarlett gave him a pointed look, "Where were you?".

"I was... going to the loo!"

"Loo?"

Desmond nodded.

"At the lake?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What! Me, At the lake? I would never go out alone. It's roaring outside," he blurted out.

Scarlett smirked at his unwitting confession, "Sure, sure. Nice seashells by the way," she added, pointing to the shells in his hands.

"Thanks! I found a pretty violet one," he exclaimed, running towards her and placing all the shells on the couch.

"See!"

"It matches your hair," she teased, ruffling his hair.

Desmond looked up at her running his hands through his hair, "Is it still violet?" he asked, earning a quick nod from Scarlett.

"Cool! Just like Tonks!"

Scarlett laughed, "Don't wander off alone to the lake, it's dangerous," she cautioned.

Desmond nodded giggling, "I wanted to learn flying. So, I went off to get more shells".

"I'll teach you, but on one condition," she added, as Desmond's eyes went wide with excitement, "No sneaking off, alone," she hinted, with a wink.

Desmond chortled, "Promise".

"Wait a minute, why were you here? Aren't you supposed to be at the Malfoy's?"

Scarlett's face flushed, "I was".

"Did you two fight again?"

When Scarlett remained silent, he huffed, "What was it this time?"

"Absolutely nothing," she muttered, images of Draco's face flashing in her mind. He was so nervous before the party, as Lucius and Narcissa had made it their task to ensure nothing was out of place, not even a single strand of hair. Hence, the slicked-back white-blond hair, that annoyed him to the core.

Desmond watched his sister as she stared into nothingness. Having nothing to do, he went back to inspecting his shells. Silence engulfed the room. The only sound emitting was from the cackling and popping of the wood from the fireplace. The only sound emitting was from the cackling and popping of the wood from the fireplace, which eventually died away.

Scarlett shook herself from her thoughts when she felt something heavy on her lap. Desmond had fallen asleep with his thumb in his mouth. She gently pulled his finger and wiped it clean with her handkerchief. Scarlett picked him up and cradled him against her chest, slowly making her way towards his room. She tucked him into the bed and turned on the night light.