frostbite [fred weasley] [editing]

six

❛ six | torture ❜

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Olivia was unwillingly trailing behind her mother and father. She could feel the tangy metallic taste of blood pool on her cracked lips. Nothing felt right about the current situation she was trapped in - Olivia was supposed to be in Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, free from the presence of her parents.

It had been the day prior to the festive holiday when she had received a yellowing parchment from a tawny owl, holding the familiar neat script from the hands of her father. She had been puzzled - her parents neglected her completely while at Hogwarts, never bothering to check up on their daughter through letters like most parents did. The words held a particularly sinister and apprehensive aura to them as she read the letter, demanding her to board the scarlet Hogwarts Express to Kingscross station where she would then meet them among the crowds of people.

Olivia wouldn't dare to disobey her parents, so she found her legs taking her down the snowy winding path that led to the station at the bottom of the castle, near Hogsmeade, leaving behind the alluring smells of Christmas - ginger and a whole lot of other spices, along with holly and the gentle scent of pine, coming from the branches of Christmas trees that were placed among the corridors. They were all decorated magnificently with colourful and sparkly ornaments, tinsel and multicoloured fairy-lights - it was a miracle that branches could withstand such a weight - Olivia was sure that they were supported with the occasional flick of a supporting charm.

The Slytherin desired nothing more than to be curled up beneath her green quilt, a steaming mug of fragrant tea in hand, eyes on the fire that roared merrily in the hearth. But there she was - wind whipping her blonde hair, turning her bones to ice by the bitterness of it. Her mother and father's robes were billowing behind them, merging in with the dark environment, while her navy blue cloak rippled violently, the material resembling the surface of an ocean among a rough storm.

From what she could see from the distance where she was walking, the Malfoy Manor was the epitome of elegance - a demeanour that could never be achieved in the House of Grey. The marble walls gleamed under the crescent moonlight, flawless and pristine. Pearly white peacocks strutted about, pecking the soil among the pruned rose bushes. Everything seemed perfect - void of flaws, unlike the people who walked in the halls of the manor. They were definitely flawed with their inhumane ways and their deceitful views on society.

In her opinion, the House of Grey was more honest, truthful, no illusions painting people's reality. Cobwebs and shadows and nightmares were the three main things that stood out in her house.The dark wood screamed ANCIENT. And with the word ANCIENT came the word SECRETS. Perhaps if a fire had been lit in the dusty fireplace, perhaps the secrets might've been unlocked, free into the chilling night air, the walls letting out muffled creaks of relief as they finally let loose of the burden of the ancient history within the house.

The Malfoy Manor was not honest. It was a false - it put people under the impression that the family was proud and perfect - sure, they had mastered elegance, but the perfection had wavered in Olivia's mind. When she was younger she had always looked up to the Malfoys, but now she only saw them as . . . Cowards. Because that was what they were, as well as her parents and herself.

They approached the entrance doors. Two cloaked silhouettes of people were situated on either side. They simultaneously walked forwards, and her parents went over to greet them, conversing in low murmuring voices, while Olivia hollered about restlessly, finding that waiting made her feel more nervous about whatever was about to happen next.