Inferno | Draco Malfoy

088 | A Deadly Harp

The sun gently rouses me from sleep, its rays filtering through my silk curtains, creating a pleasant ambience that signifies the warmth of summer mornings.

It is early July.

Willoughby experiences a sense of alienation from the broader British wizarding community; for the people here, it is merely a typical day — one in which children engage in playful dress-up and feast the whole day.

Despite the passage of several weeks since Dumbledore's death, a pervasive melancholy persists across Scotland and England, particularly in London. Furthermore, the Daily Prophet exacerbates this atmosphere of despair by continuously publishing alarming news in its subsequent editions.

It is indeed selfish for Willoughby to be assured of peace while the remainder of the community endures the relentless assaults from Death Eaters. However, selfishness should not be categorically deemed a vice or a virtue; in this instance, my parents are merely striving to safeguard their people, for these people here have resided in this Willoughby for generations, and their bloodlines have persisted over the centuries. That is why this treaty is good, for it ensures the continuation of familial legacies.

Yawning and stretching my arms, I rise from my bed and move towards the curtains to draw them open. And at that moment, the fragrance of the thornless red roses by my window envelops me, including the rose I received on Valentine's Day, I now have three of them, and I have chosen to keep them, as they appear to defy decay due to an enchanting charm that has been cast upon them. Furthermore, I find myself curious about the intentions of the sender who gifted them to me.

Anyway, today presents a demanding agenda for me, as I must travel to Blethynfolk to retrieve some important documents for my parents. Following that, I intend to dedicate time to studying and reviewing the seventh-year curriculum in order to gain an advantage, like always. But, at this moment, I find myself with the opportunity to engage in any adventure or leisure activity I desire.

The weather is pleasantly mild, neither excessively warm nor too cold, prompting me to select a light pink summer dress from my wardrobe. I allow my hair to fall freely, loving how it takes on a rich brunette hue in the sunlight, contrasting with my usual black shimmer.

Content with my appearance, I descend the stairs, filled with anticipation and urgency. Since my return home, I have composed three letters addressed to Draco Malfoy. The act of writing multiple letters to him had never been part of my intentions, and it reflects a significant level of bravery on my part to actually dispatch these letters rather than merely drafting them as I had done the previous year.

After all, he did tell me that he would write to me, even when the seasons change, under any circumstance, so I felt encouraged to write to him.

However, I am now uncertain about the wisdom of my decision, as I have yet to receive a single letter from him. With each passing day, I find myself anticipating a correspondence bearing his signature. I cannot claim to be patient, nor can I dismiss the negative 'what-ifs' that occasionally plague my thoughts.

Nonetheless, there must be a rational explanation for his silence. It is possible that my letters have not reached him; my mother has informed me that the manor is currently under a temporary lockdown, fortified by magical barriers designed to prevent any unauthorised entry.

"Good morning, Your Ladship," Remi sweetly greets me as she exits the sitting room, carrying an empty tray.

I respond with a smile and a nod, reciprocating her greeting as I enter the sitting room. There, I find my parents comfortably settled on one of the couches, with my mum nestled against my dad's chest as they read through the letter together. Their shared laughter fills the room, and my dad tenderly kisses her forehead. This moment reminds me of a saying my mother once told me: "One needs to feel love in order to give love." Yeah, no wonder why my parents have such deep affection for Camden and me.