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𝟭𝟲:𝟬𝟭, 𝗢𝗖𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝟮𝟴𝗧𝗛, 𝟭𝟵𝟵𝟭
ONE OF THE MOST COMPLEX THINGS IN THE WIZARDING WORLD WAS THE SPELL OF FLIGHT. Oh, and Marium's relationship with her father.
She hadn't spoken to him since she last found out about her adoption; mainly because she didn't want to. Draco was constantly writing letters directed and dispatched to Mother and occasionally to Father. Marium had only written one to mother with no mention of Lucius. In avoidance of writing, Marium had revised all her subjects with Daphne and even read further, which was very unlike her. However, after Draco's irritating ramble on how Lucius was waiting for letters from Marium, she felt guilty about not writing. So, there she was, with her quill, ink, and rough piece of parchment, sitting at a desk in the Slytherin Common Room after school.
"Are you going to write?" Draco annoyingly asked after Marium's entire hour of thinking. He is so annoying.
"Can you shut up?! I'm writing!" She said, a little too loud, because Crabbe turned from the couch and raised an eyebrow. Marium rolled her eyes at the fat git and slammed her head onto the parchment, the ink bowl twirling around from the pressure.
"NO! THE PARCHMENT!" Draco yelled and he instantly moved the ink away from his sister.
"Who cares? I can always get a new piece." Marium said, laying her head on the table and facing Draco. One thing she hated about her brother was that he was a clean freak. No one likes clean freaks.
"A new piece? A new bloody piece? That's a mighty waste." Draco sternly said. With realisation faster than light that he was serious, Marium returned to the parchment, drumming her fingers on the desk. Draco started to ramble about the importance of parchment, which randomly led to all the spells and tricks he could do with his wand after Pansy asked.
While Draco got lost in a one-sided conversation with Pansy, Marium was trying to figure out what to write without mentioning her and her father's awkward distance. But all the other topics such as 'How's the weather today?' and 'Do you want to hear about what I did in class?' that she could think of sounded monotonous and nonsensical. Then again, Marium could talk about her time at school and how many friends she made, but there was barely anything to say about that. Marium didn't want to sound uninterested or even the taciturn type.
Finally, after hours of reasoning, Mairum concluded with a terminal topic. The note. She knew that she could've been wrong about the entire situation, but she had a great surmise that she had told anyone yet. She needed out of her system, and what better way than to tell her father, a professional of the Dark Arts and suspicions.
So, Marium began to write – sort of.
"What are you doing?" Marium looked up to see Nott staring at her parchment.
