𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗 - ʳᵉᵍᵘˡᵘˢ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ

Chapter 20: Christmas Eve

[ December 24th, 1977 ]

     EUPHEMIA POTTER was a smelly liar. If that smell was roses and hot cocoa, of course.

     The Potters' annual Christmas Eve party was, in fact, an overly fancy ordeal. It wasn't even a real party; it was a ball. She'd known it the second Sebastian returned from his short trip their apartment, with his dressing robes and one of her old gowns in hand. She'd been to enough balls in the past to know the dress code.

     Looking in the mirror now, she felt as if she still was in the past.

      The plum coloured gown fell to the floor in cascading layers of tencel twill. The flat-top, off-shoulder neckline was modest, with puff sleeves down to her wrists. She'd gone into a full blown nostalgia spiral, digging out her old pearl necklace and earrings for the occasion.

     The monstrosity she'd created stared back at her with reproach. She had hated herself when she was this girl, and she hated herself now for looking like her. It reminded her of forced smiles and boring conversation and hopeful suitors. It reminded her of rigid backs and high expectations. It reminded her of Theonalia Belmont.

     How she hated that name. Theona Bell was much better.

     "Theo?" Sebastian called from the doorway.

     She turned to him, lips tight, and stood with her arms out at her sides.

     "You look-" he struggled for words, "pretty."

     "I look like Mom's wet dream," she huffed, facing the mirror once again.

     "Mom would've never let you wear your hair down," he noted, coming up behind her. "I'm still surprised she didn't kill me for singeing your hair and giving you bangs."

     They didn't kill him because she told them that she'd done it to herself.

     "My hairs a mess, she would be right for that," she grumbled, ignoring the resentful thought.

     "Sit, let me fix it," he hummed, pointing to the chair at her vanity.

     She complied, watching as he meticulously began braiding at her hairline.

     "You look good," she complimented, eliciting only a ghost of a smile.

     He did look good, but she imagined he felt the same way she did. Like Sebastian Belmont, not Bell. He got to keep his first name in their escape, the asshole. He had no legal papers to sign except for their apartment lease, so the change of last name was his only requirement. Her, on the other hand, had to have her entire name shortened, as having her real one in the Hogwarts registry was too risky.

     His dressing robes were a dark red. 'It symbolizes the strength of our blood,' their father would say. He did switch out the usual white button up for a black one, something that would enrage their parents if they saw. His hair was gelled back, but only so much could be done to tame his unruly hair.

     "Just because we look like Belmonts doesn't mean we are," Sebastian murmured, "we're Bells. We always will be."

     "We haven't always been, though," she sighed, fighting against Sebastian's grip so she could crack her neck. "Running from our parents doesn't mean we can escape the past."