"whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same"
-emily brontë
Clarisse Fawcett has been raised to be a proper member of the elite Pureblood Society. Her hair is always done, she never forgets her table manners, she is a silent type...
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Clarisse was awoken by the sunlight drifting in through the open windows of her bedroom.
She sighed happily as she sat up. It was once more time to go back to Hogwarts. Time to see her friends. Time to see her D-. Draco. Time to see Draco.
Rising out of her canopy bed, Clarisse quickly slipped on her warm fur slippers. She padded her way over to her bay window.
Unusual for England, the sun was shining brightly. Poking her head out into the morning air, she could hear the birds chirp & could smell the morning dew. A sign, she decided. A sign that today was going to be a great day.
She looked around her room. This would be that last time she would see it for a while.
The pink room was a place of comfort. Somewhere she often retreated when she felt like she had no control; when she felt like she couldn't breathe.
There was her vanity, where perfumes, jewelry, & beauty products were perfectly arranged in a way that looked elegant, yet effortless.
Then there was her bookcase dedicated to her antique teacup collection. Each so tiny & dainty, but nonetheless intricate. Each was a piece of art. Clarisse had collected teacups from all over the world. Places she had been, places her friends & relatives had been.
There was her ornate canopy bed, drowned in pinks, creams, & ivories. Her travel cases sat piled high at the foot of bed. They had been packed for days now. Clarisse had had the girls over to sort through what wardrobe pieces were needed for the fall & what were not. Daphne Greengrass & Pansy Parkinson were her best friends in this world. Closer than friends, they were more like family.
Of course, those were just the girls. Her clique extended further than that.
In pureblood society, children tended to be raised within a circle of families, who had children of a similar age. Most stay close with this group & this group alone. A way to preserve the culture. Although, this doesn't always work. As evident of the removed Black heir, Sirius Black, who had now become a cautionary tale told to pureblood children of what happens when you forsake your blood & duties.
Clarisse, being the daughter of a deep bloodline, was brought up with others from prominent pureblood families. Specifically, the Zabinis, Notts, Parkinsons, Greengrasses, & of course, the Malfoys. Blaise, Theo, Pansy, Daphne, & Draco were her people. Her forever group. A constant.
"Mistress Clarisse," her house elf, Tilly, appeared. In her small hands, she held a fresh cup of tea. Peppermint, her staple flavor.
"Thank you, Tilly" she said, reaching for the intricate cup, which was a pale blue with pink & white flowers. "Ah" Clarisse sighed, smelling the relaxing scent. She smiled down at Tilly, "You always make it so perfect".
The house elf blushed & twisted her hands into her little apron, which acted as her uniform. She looked down. "Mistress is too kind."
Clarisse took a sip of her tea, before setting it down on her in-table. She dramatically threw her body backwards into her bed. "I just don't know what I'm going to do without you this fall, Tilly."
