Potter's Twin Sister

*2*

Her parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy treated her with a mixture of affection and distant formality. They were both impeccably dressed, their voices laced with a refined coldness that seemed to seep into the very walls of their home. Their world was one of refined manners, ancient rituals, and an unspoken code of conduct that she had to learn to navigate. She was their only child, a precious jewel they displayed with pride, but never allowed to truly touch.

Evangeline was a curious child, her mind filled with questions that she dared not voice. Her world felt strangely incomplete, a puzzle with missing pieces. There were moments, fleeting and elusive when she felt an inexplicable pull toward something she couldn't define. An undercurrent of something familiar, yet completely foreign, tugged at her senses, leaving her with a lingering sense of unease.

Her education, like her upbringing, was a blend of classical learning and arcane knowledge. She excelled in her studies, demonstrating a natural aptitude for magic that surprised even her tutors. The spells flowed easily from her wand, their incantations rolling off her tongue like a familiar melody. Yet, there was a hollowness beneath her proficiency, a void that no amount of knowledge could fill.

She often found herself drawn to the library, its shelves filled with dusty volumes and forgotten lore. The scent of aged parchment and ink was intoxicating, a portal to a world she was not yet allowed to fully explore. There, amidst the hushed whispers of forgotten stories, she sought solace and answers to the questions that haunted her.

One day, while browsing through a volume on ancient runes, a particular inscription caught her eye. The symbols were unfamiliar, yet strangely compelling, drawing her in like a moth to a flame. As she traced the intricate patterns with her fingertips, a strange sensation washed over her. A wave of warmth spread through her body, followed by a rush of images that flooded her mind.

She saw a dimly lit room, a roaring fire casting flickering shadows on the walls. A woman with kind, emerald eyes held a baby boy in her arms, his face bathed in the warm glow of the fire. She felt a surge of love, a sense of belonging she had never known before. Then, the image shifted, replaced by a cold, cavernous hall, the air thick with dread. A man with a serpent-like face stood in the center of the room, his eyes gleaming with malevolent intent.

The images vanished as quickly as they appeared, leaving Evangeline gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest. The feeling of familiarity lingered, a phantom echo of a life she had never lived. What were these images? Who were the people she saw? Were they part of her past, hidden from her view?

The questions gnawed at her, fueling a growing unease. She knew she couldn't ignore the whispers of her past, the echoes of a forgotten life. She had to find the truth, no matter the cost.

Her first step was to confide in her mother, Narcissa. She sought her out in the grand drawing room, the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished floor.

"Mother, there is something I need to tell you," Evangeline began, her voice trembling slightly. "I've been having these... visions, strange images that keep flashing through my mind."

Narcissa's face turned serious, the mask of social grace slipping away. A glint of steel hardened her gaze. "Visions, Evangeline?" she said, her voice tight. "What kind of visions?"

"They are... I don't know how to describe them. Faces, places, emotions... I feel a connection to them, but I don't understand why."

"Perhaps you're simply overthinking things," Narcissa replied, her voice soothing yet firm. "You're a young woman, Evangeline, with a keen imagination. Don't let your mind wander too far."