┌───── ･☆☽･ ─────┐ 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟙 𝟡 𝟡 𝟜 ━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━ "one shouldn't toy with emotions"
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NARCISSA WATCHED DESPAIRINGLY as Rosalie disappeared in a ball of emerald flames. It was the cruelty of life that a heart can keep on beating even after it has been broken in two.
When frost begins to seize the heart, all strength is depleted. . . and once you think it's finally started to thaw the ice merely strengthens it hold around it.
Narcissa closed her eyes in distress. Seven tormenting years. . . where all hope was lost. She needed a minute. . . No, all she wanted was her daughter back in her life.
Stepping away from the group, the mother retreated away. . . fearful this had all been some cruel dream her mind had conjured up to haunt her.
"Draco, what show?" Lucius remarked firmly, taking a step towards the staircase where his son stood.
His tone was harsh, particularly for the circumstances. Yet, apologising would mean justifying himself to his father; and right now he just didn't have the time or energy to trade bitter remarks with his father.
Draco took a step backwards, almost defiantly as though he wouldn't tell. His stone-grey eyes racing around the room but always landing on his favourite.
"Please Draco," Anita urged, her tone soft and reassuring as she stepped towards him. "We just want to see her again,"
Draco's posture visibly relaxed at the sight of his grandmother. She'd always been the kindest and most caring woman besides his mother. In fact, in many ways, the two women's attributes resembled each other quite greatly; yet, only related by marriage.
"She's performing in a Muggle Ballet Performance in London," Draco revealed, watching as Druella's face instantly screwed up in disgust at 'Muggle'. His internal values told him he should too. . . but this was his little sister and he knew he could put his pride aside for just one night. "It's for the Junior Royal Ballet."
"Well, we must get tickets at once!" Anita declared, squeezing her grandson's shoulder appreciatively. "Thank you, dear. You know how much this will mean to your mother and I." She whispered, embracing him in a tight hug.
Lucius nodded, moving away from the group with Cygnus and Abraxas following suit. The three men wandered away, with their wives accepting that their angry liquor lipped words would mean nothing by the end of the night.
A few harmless interrogations later, a group of muggles had decided on their own accord to hand over their tickets to tomorrow night's show. Now, they just had to blend in. . .
