"Without you I am lost."
Karina Rosier Grindelwald is pure blood royalty. After all, being the love child of two of the most powerful pure blood families has it's perks: lavish balls, expensive gowns, unobtainable status in the Wizarding World. But...
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"Mila Rose Abbot," the Dark Lord's voice bellowed from behind me, scaring me half to death as I whipped around to see him with his wand against the arm of a young, scarlet haired girl, "You are now appointed with the title of a Death Eater."
The girl, with a firm hand around her newly marked arm, turned towards the crowd with a small, but proud smile. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning, the kind of beauty that strikes you at first glance. However, I didn't recognize her, which could not be possible. She was an Abbot, a member of the sacred twenty-eight just like me. As a pureblood, it is required to learn the entire history of all the families of the sacred twenty-eight. I could name the very first ancestors, all the way up to the heads of the families now, all their children, their grandchildren, their cousins, their relatives. So, why was it, I'd never once heard of Mila Abbot? As far as I knew the Abbot family had only sons and no daughters.
Suddenly, the memory faded and changed into another one. I now stood in inside a grand ballroom, one I recognized to be inside of the Abbot family mansion. The room was busy with a flurry of people, dancing to orchestral music, eating off gold platters, drinking wine from crystal goblets, and conversing loudly with their friends. As I looked more closely, I came to realize all the attendees were pureblood. It looked like a celebration and a familiar one at that.
"Wait a minute," I whispered to myself, watching the familiar people around me spin and dance. I'd been here before... to this exact party. Yes, I remembered this night. It was the engagement party of the Abbot family's eldest son. Although my memory of the night was a bit fuzzy, I remembered how one of the Black sons had asked me to dance, but Mother had denied the request for me, deeming it "unsuitable behavior." Whatever that meant.
"You look stunning!" I heard a voice shout through the crowd, a voice that made me cringe. The voice, without a doubt, belonged to me but hearing myself speak in a memory was just plain bizarre. Stepping through the crowd, I navigated my way through the ballroom until I reached my past self, and what I saw chilled me to the absolute core.
There I stood, in the lavender ballgown I had been dying to wear for weeks before the event, my hair done up in waves that had taken much too long, laughing and gossiping with Mila Abbot herself, as though we'd been friends for ages.
"So," past me said with a suggestive look at the drunken scarlet haired girl, "who's the mystery man you've been hiding?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Mila laughed, but even now, as I approached her to take a closer look at the face I could not remember, I could see it in her eyes.
"Oh, c'mon," past me rolled her eyes. "I've seen you come back with swollen lips and offered you a napkin for your smeared lipstick way too many times for you to pretend like you have no idea what I'm talking about."
Mila bit her lip at this, her eyes trailing off towards the clock to check the time. "It's not important, just a little private fun as your mother would say."
