Epiphany |Scorpius Malfoy|

Prologue

"Mum, mum, wake up!"

Elisa Demont groaned as she was woken up by her daughter banging on the door. Her husband, Albert, let out a groan similar to hers as he was woken up, just as the banging on the door got louder.

"I am going to Hogwarts mum, wake up! I cannot be late!"

"Settle down, Isabelle, I am coming!" the woman called back to her eleven-year-old daughter who let out a happy squeal immediately at her words. The sound of the child limping away was heard, along with giggles that it seemed the little one could not manage to drown out. The woman let out another groan as she shut her eyes tightly, knowing that she had to leave the bed soon. With a sigh, she slowly started pushing herself up.

"She takes after you in that aspect," her husband mumbled as he prepared to continue his sleep. Not that his wife would allow any of that.

The woman narrowed her eyes at her husband, and without an ounce of guilt, pushed the man off the bed. A loud thud was heard as the man hit the floor, soon accompanied with a groan of pain. "Shut up Albert and get dressed."

Isabelle got in her room, a huge smile on her face despite her limping. She had gotten somewhat used to it by now.

From the moment she could remember herself, the girl had never been physically whole. Her right leg, was somewhat different than her left. She had a right thigh and a right knee, but from then on, the flesh existed no more. She did not have a right ankle, she did not have a right foot. Her leg stopped some inches after her knee.

To be able to walk and stabilize herself, Isabelle had taken to wearing a case that was coloured in the exact same colour as her skin. The case was tied around her knee and from there it reached the place her foot should have been. She wore socks and shoes just like every other person, and the only way one could understand she was not like everyone else was because of her slight limping. But still, no one ever thought that something like that could have happened to her.

The child was generally smiling and many would consider her a happy girl. Because she was quiet and polite, it had been many times that women had approached her mother to congratulate her on her child's upbringing.

A small happy squeal escaped Isabelle's lips as she looked around her room. Her eyes landed on the open suitcase she had near her bed. Without a second thought, she walked over to the suitcase. She kneeled with some difficulty, a light long strand of hair falling in front of her face as she did so. The girl did not hesitate to place it behind her ear as she tried to close the suitcase.

After some time, she managed to close it. She then slowly stood up, grabbed the suitcase's handle and made her way to the kitchen.

She faintly heard someone moving in the kitchen as she walked in the corridors of her home, the smile never leaving her lips. She left her trunk in the living room, just next to the portkey her and her family would use to reach Platfrom 9 and 3/4; a paintbrush.

She then made her way in the kitchen, to find her mother, her dark curly hair looking as if some kind of bird had decided to use her hair as a nest of some sort. Isabelle giggled at the sight, leaving her mother to turn around to see at what she was laughing at. As she noticed the girl was laughing at her, she scowled.

"Laugh all you wish, I am still prettier than you."

"Come on maman," she rolled her eyes, "you must admit, your hair looks funny!"

"I was not aware I had a hair stylist for a daughter."

Isabelle giggled at the sarcasm dripping from the woman's voice. She sat down on the table and waited for her breakfast. As she did so, she took to examining herself in the mirror on her right.