Beginning

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Hey guys, this is the first story I'm writing.
Please feel free to leave your feedback <3 thank you and enjoy the story!

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It was a cold, dark night, as usual. The kind where the chill crept under the doorframe and settled into the marrow of your bones. But I'd long stopped expecting warmth, long stopped believing anything could change. The house had a way of swallowing all light, making everything feel still, as if time had frozen here.

"Family breeds content," my aunt used to say, her voice full of warmth and certainty. I had admired her once, trusted her, believed in her words. But that was before—before she was gone, and before the world had shifted. It was before I realized that contentment, in this house, was a lie.

"Alvira!" My mother's voice broke the silence, sharp and demanding. "Come down here at once!"

I sighed, the weight of the house pressing on me. The walls seemed to close in, each day blending into the next until they all felt the same. When had life become such a grind? I couldn't quite remember, but one thing was clear: I couldn't wait to escape it—though I knew, deep down, that escape was nothing but a fantasy.

"Alvira!" the voice repeated, louder this time, a touch of impatience creeping in. She never could understand why I took so long.

I stood, casting one final glance at my reflection in the mirror. It felt like a stranger staring back at me—someone wearing a mask I could never take off. The same pale skin, the same tired eyes, and the same tight smile. I'd perfected it over the years. A smile that hid everything I was really thinking. A smile I hardly recognized anymore.
Downstairs, everything was exactly as it always was. The same silverware gleaming on the table, the same chill in the air, the same cold silence that never quite seemed to dissipate. My mother didn't even look up when I entered the room, her eyes focused on a pile of letters.

"Good morning, Alvira," she said, her words flat and lifeless, as though she were reading from a script she had long since memorized.
"Good morning, Mother." I spoke the words automatically, knowing exactly how they would sound—meek, obedient, but empty.

"Ares is leaving in a few hours," she continued, her voice detached as she sorted through the letters. "Put on the green dress. It's the one they laid out for you. You'll look presentable." Her tone held a note of finality, as if there was no room for argument.
I nodded and turned away. I had no choice, really. My brother, Ares, was the star of the family, the one everyone looked up to, the one who was about to finish his final year at Hogwarts with honors. He was the golden child, and everyone knew it. Even if it wasn't entirely his doing.
My father's influence ran deep in that school, twisting everything in his favor—like everything else in our lives.
As I walked up the stairs to my room, I couldn't help but glance at the dress laid out on my bed. A perfect black dress, crisp and flawless, as expected. The same way everything in our family had to be. Perfect. Flawless. Without blemish.

I had never been given the chance to go to Hogwarts. That place, with its magic and possibility, had always been a distant dream for someone else—someone who mattered more. My place was here, in this house, playing the role of the dutiful daughter, the quiet shadow. I had been trained to serve, to fade into the background, and to be grateful for it. I had been made to believe that my worth was defined by what I could do for others.

But something inside me—a quiet, stubborn part—knew better. It had always known. There was more to me than what they saw. More than what they wanted to see. Magic. Power. Ambition. But they were terrified of it. I could feel their eyes on me sometimes, the way they looked at me with just a hint of fear, as if they could see the fire smoldering beneath my skin. And they feared it. They feared me.

I dressed quickly, the fabric cold and unfamiliar against my skin. I looked at myself in the mirror again. The face staring back at me was the same as always—composed, polite, obedient. But under that surface, I was restless. There was a part of me that wanted to scream, to throw everything away and run. There was a part of me that wanted to burn this life to the ground and start again.

But not today. Today, I would play my part. I would smile and nod and pretend. And one day, when the time was right, maybe then I would step out of this shadow. Maybe then I would be free.

I forced a smile as I descended the stairs. My mother was already waiting, already watching, already judging. But I didn't care. Not completely.

One day, I'd show them. One day, they would see

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(The dress)

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