"I smell fresh rain...chocolate...evergreen...toffee, and-" Lucy's eyes widened as she recognized the familiar fragrance.
Draco's cologne.
.・。.・゜❦・.・❦・゜・。.
in which lucy armstrong, smells a certain blonde slytherin in a love potion, and realizes th...
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Lucy's heart fell into her stomach as she heard a sharp, repetitive knock upon the front doors. The noise announced that more guests had arrived as her father jumped eagerly to his feet, and bustled to the door in the next room. She glanced over at Theo with a terrified expression upon her face as she took a small sip of the red wine that sat before her.
"Please everyone, let us move to the drawing room," announced Yaxley, ushering the group into the nearby room complete with leather couches and plush armchairs. Lucy's lets trembled slightly as she grimly followed Theo and his father into the drawing room.
The first person she noticed was Bellatrix Lestrange, who was helping herself to a glass of firewhisky. Her dark curly hair was unkempt and wild as she sent a sinister grin in Lucy's direction. Meanwhile, her eyes then wavered over to the sight of Peter Pettigrew, the odd, plump servant to none other than-
"My Lord, please—this is my daughter, Lucille," her father declared with a hint of fear in his voice as he grabbed tightly onto her forearm, lurching her abruptly forward.
Lucy came face to face with a pair of red eyes belonging to that of a venomous serpent. The Dark Lord was tall, and indeed had a nose of mere slits, just like a snake. He was bald and his skin was nearly translucent—a stark contrast to his dark robes. She could now see why Draco was so terrified of him.
"Lucille," he hissed, drawing closer to her. The air around her grew cold, and time felt as though it had slowed down.
"My Lord," she mumbled, forcing herself into a curtsy, shifting her gaze down to her feet.
"I am sure you are quite proud of your daughter, Orion, to join such a noble cause," he crooned, reaching out to pick up a piece of her raven hair and curiously twirl it around his cold fingers.
"Y-Yes, my Lord, o-of course," Orion replied anxiously. "S-She just turned of age,"
The Dark Lord merely waves his ghostly white hand at the man, ushering him away.
"Open your mind to me, Lucille," purred Voldemort, turning her head with the touch of his cold wand made from a white wood.
Lucy fluttered her eyes closed, trying her best to keep her fear at bay. Surely if Draco could handle this, she could too. She could feel her mind grow fuzzy, and she quickly attempted to wash away her fearful thoughts to appear calm and composed.
"Well then, let us begin," he concluded before her eyes shot open to once again, be staring directly at the serpentine face of the Dark Lord.
He smiled a terrifying smile before reaching out for her left arm. His fingers were frigid cold, much colder than Draco's, as he rolled up the sleeve of her dress to reveal her pale skin. It was as if he had no blood, although she did not doubt the possibility of that. Lucy glanced over at Theo to see him nervously pale as he watched the encounter. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as the Dark Lord took his wand and pressed it harshly into the delicate skin within her inner forearm.
