𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄, little malfoy

Chapter Three

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August 1994

OVER A HUNDRED THOUSAND witches and wizards were presently finding and settling themselves into their seats, which surrounded and rose to unimaginable heights around the colossal oval field. The stadium, a marvel of magical architecture, was bathed in a warm, mystical golden light that seemed to seep into every corner, creating an atmosphere of enchantment and anticipation. From their lofty vantage point beside the Minister of Magic, the Malfoys had a commanding view of the field below, which looked as smooth and pristine as velvet under the stadium's illumination.

At either end of the field stood three imposing goal hoops, each fifty feet high, their majestic forms casting long shadows on the ground. Directly opposite them, at eye level with the spectators, was a gigantic blackboard. The blackboard, an intricate piece of magical craftsmanship, was currently hosting a continuous parade of golden text. The writing danced across its surface as if an invisible giant's hand was scrawling and erasing words in a ceaseless rhythm, adding a dynamic touch to the otherwise static arena.

Narcissa Malfoy, seated in the opulent luxury of her reserved box, pursed her lips in thinly veiled irritation. Her gaze remained fixed on the blackboard, her expression one of barely concealed disdain as she watched the golden letters flash by. The constant motion was both mesmerizing and maddening, and she found herself struggling to concentrate on the spectacle that was meant to be the highlight of the Quidditch World Cup.

However, her attention was abruptly diverted by a flash of familiar golden light. Her peripheral vision caught a glistening reflection, and she instinctively turned her head. Her eyes were drawn to a petite figure standing alone at a distance, her back turned towards Narcissa. The girl's golden blonde hair shimmered under the stadium lights, and an inexplicable pang of recognition struck Narcissa.

The sight of the girl—her golden locks, her toothy smile, and the piercing blue eyes—sent a wave of memories crashing over Narcissa. The features were strikingly similar to those of a young girl she had not seen in years. The realization hit her like a jolt of electricity: this was her daughter. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched the girl, her emotions a tangled mess of hope and trepidation.

The girl, seemingly floating in an ethereal aura, was approaching the Malfoy Clan's box. Her presence, unexpected and hauntingly familiar, commanded Narcissa's full attention. An obtrusive siren suddenly resonated throughout the stadium, a sound designed to capture the crowd's focus. The noise caused the girl to turn towards it in surprise. As she did, her eyes met Narcissa's.

The impact of that moment was shattering. Narcissa's heart sank as she observed the girl's eyes. Instead of the rich sapphire blue she remembered, her eyes were now a weak, almost transparent shade of crystal. The change was so stark, so disheartening, that Narcissa could hardly breathe. The realization that this was not her daughter, but a stranger with a startling resemblance, left her reeling. She took a sharp intake of breath, her gaze shifting away from the girl with a mix of confusion and dismay. The sudden clarity of her mistake left her feeling disoriented, as if she had been chasing a mirage that had now dissipated into thin air.