Nefarious ➳ T.Riddle

II.

Walking towards the attic, Ascella hummed a few notes of a tune she herself was unfamiliar with. She reckoned she must have heard father hum it once or twice. Continuing floor after floor, stairs after stairs, she was accompanied with the occasional yell of an ancestors' painting who told her to "shut up." Ascella didn't think too much of it, they were – after all – dead and she couldn't think of a single time in her whole childhood were the paintings had actually said a nice word to her.

Finally reaching the old door to the attic, Ascella opened it slowly. The sound of a loud creak bounced off the walls. There were no lights in the attic and with it being midnight, the darkness encompassed her.

"Lumos"

Holding the box in one arm and her lighted wand in the other, Ascella looked around. Everywhere she turned her eyes upon lay crippled tables, broken tableware, decorations that were out of fashion and things she didn't understand anyone would ever buy.

All the old and broken put together, what a cruel joke, she thought. Her lips twisted up in a sarcastic smile.

Ascella placed the box down, resulting in dust flying up and into her face.

She let out a few coughs while trying to hold in the tears from her burning eyes. While the dust was resettling itself around her, she opened her eyes and couldn't help letting them fall on the box that was closed with tape at her feet. She tried to not fall into the temptation of opening it, tried to think of the undeniable anger she felt for the woman, but curiosity overrode her other feelings.

She sat down and took her wand out to cast a quick spell to open up the box. When she looked inside, she saw a lot of things she couldn't remember.

A brush, a mirror, some fabrics, nothing truly valuable of important, at least not to her.

Then she noticed something that was tightly wrapped in blood red silks. Carefully threading her finger through the soft silks that felt like flowing water rolling over her skin, she took the object out and saw that it was a picture, a picture she remembered.

In the picture, a man and a woman were standing side by side in their finest clothing. The woman was wearing a beautiful white gown, a wedding gown.

It was expected to see happy, smiling faces in wedding picture, however in this picture all Ascella saw were two hard, unyielding stares.

What did I expect? For them to be happy to marry someone they had never spoken to before?, she sarcastically thought. Her father had married that woman out of duty, like so many other people with pure blood had done.

She remembered the stories that were told to her when she was younger, that if you were blessed with being born in a pureblood family, having – so called – pure blood, that you were superior. Superior because their lineage consisted only of wizards and witches, not one filthy muggle, like her grandfather had said.

Ascella didn't truly understand how her blood could be different from anyone else. Isn't the blood that runs through my veins made out of exact the same things as them? Of course she didn't voice those words aloud, she had already learned as a child to never doubt anything her family said.

Suddenly she noticed there was also something engraved in the frame:

James Rosier and Cassiopeia Rosier (née Black) – 7 May, 1923

"Cassiopeia," Ascella mumbled, trying the word out like it was a foreign language. It was a tradition in the Black family to name everyone after stars and constellations and even though Cassiopeia wasn't her mother, the world thought so, that's why she was still named after a star.

"Cassiopeia," She mumbled again, even softer this time. Cassiopeia was named after a constellation, but that constellation was also named after something. A figure in Greek Mythology. Ascella had learned about that in Muggle Studies.

The Queen Cassiopeia, so beautiful yet so vain and it was that arrogance that led to her downfall.

Ascella suddenly felt unwell.

After hastily placing all the items back in the box, she left the attic and hurried back to her room, ignoring all the calls from the painting to put down the light. Only when she was safely inside her bed, did she spoke the words to do that

"Nox"

Okay let's just get out of the way that this is my first time writing a story and that English isn't my native language, so if there are any grammar mistakes feel free to point them out. That will make editing easier for me.

Now second, this chapter is really short and shitty but I will be going on a holiday in about 8 hours and still haven't completely finished packing. I just didn't want to leave for 10 days while only having uploaded chapter one lmao.

I want to know who actually reads anything and who just skips past most paragraphs so comment and vote!