The Forbidden Four: Year Two

Chapter One - Prologue

Chapter One - Prologue

     Castor Domain was born into a family of people with god-like features. There wasn't a single unattractive person in his entire family, on both his mother's and — from what he knew — his father's as well.

When Castor was a kid, it was obvious he would be no different. His skin was dark, like mocha, and his hair was as black as a raven's feathers, curled and wild. His eyes a striking silver that had people cooing over how utterly beautiful he would be as he got older.

     But, as he got older, the opposite seemed to happen. His skin dulled, no longer having a beautiful glow. His hair turned lifeless, the same inky black but marred with split ends and lacking the healthy shine it used to. Circles, dark and menacing, formed under his eyes and made them appear to sink into his skull. But there was one thing that never changed; his eyes. His eyes were still the same, piercing sterling they had always been. They never lost their seemingly supernatural glow.

Despite all of these things, Castor had never been bothered by his looks. He never really cared what he looked like, as long as he had a body to get around in he was fine.

     He wasn't like the Malfoys, who prided themselves on their flawless features. Even Lucius, as rotten and ugly he was on the inside, was absolutely stunning on the outside. Like the prettiest of flowers hiding a poisonous secret.

Castor was no longer beautiful, and he had never cared.

     Now, though, as he stared at his reflection in the mirror of his private bathroom at '3:41' in the morning, he was starting to think differently.

It's getting worse, he thought, as he absentmindedly poked at the protruding bone of his cheek. He swallowed thickly, feeling his throat scratch itself raw at the simple movement.

     He was getting worse.

Castor's beauty had begun to fade when his mother died. It was as if she had taken his beauty with him when she had left. But Castor had never actually felt as bad as he looked until now.

     Nearly three months ago today, Castor had collapsed and thrown his guts up in a toilet — something he hadn't done since his mother had died, and it seemed as if three months had done nothing to cure him, despite Narcissa's best attempts.

No, if anything he was getting worse.

     His lips were chapped, his skin covered in the smallest sheen of sweat, his nose was both stuffed and runny, and nausea turned his stomach constantly now.

But the biggest difference was how much thinner he looked.

     He had always been a bit on the leaner side, but never before had he been so thin. Not even when he put off eating with the Malfoys for anything but dinner. Even then, he was still a rather healthy size.

Now, though, if he lifted his shirt he could just barely make out the faint lines of his ribs.

     The biggest problem with his sickness was that Castor hadn't been able to eat. Even just the smell of food with cause him to hurl in the early days of his newfound sickness. Narcissa, however, ever the brilliant witch and an even more brilliant cook, had helped a little.

He was able to eat mainly meat-based dishes, though they tasted like chalk and felt even worse, he could power through it to get enough basic nutrition.

     But only barely.

Even the doctors hadn't known what was wrong with them — and there had been multiple.

      First was Dr. Lightborne, a fairly young pure-blooded woman who had ended up concluding that it must have been a severe case of Scrofungulus, and had given him thirty small vials, telling him to take one every day for a month, and that he should be feeling much better by then.

Of course, that didn't happen, and they ended up calling another doctor, who gave him the exact same diagnosis, and then another, and another, and another, two of which said that he was simply faking it, and another who said that they had no clue what was happening to him.

     Eventually, they stopped calling.

It had gotten so bizarre that at one point Narcissa had recommended they call Dumbledore — which had resulted in several horrified shouts from Draco, yells from Lucius, and frantic protest from Castor, all at once.

      Castor didn't know what was wrong, he just knew that he wasn't getting any better.

~~~

Yay! It's out!

Originally this was supposed to take a lot longer but I literally couldn't wait any longer and I had to publish something to stabilize my mind or else I was going to go insane before the first chapter was even out.

Yes, I know this is short but my prologues are always pretty short because they're just a way to get the story up and running.

So, I hope you guys like this short (but hopefully okay?) chapter. What do you guys think is wrong with Castor?👀🍵 I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Oh, yeah, I also found this song called "My Demons" by STARSET and I think it really fits Castor for this book, so maybe listen to it and hopefully that will help you guys figure out what's wrong with him.

Also, I found one that fits Tom Riddle (Voldemort) as well (In my opinion at least). It's called "Royalty" by Ezgod & Maestro Chives

Anyway, if you enjoyed please leave a vote and a comment!