A Flurry Of Crimson

Chapter 1 | A Hell Of A Night

I stare at my reflection in the large mirror of my room, with a gown tight around my torso and waist

I rove my eyes over my shoulder to see Deesy's dark purple ones on me.

"Straighten your shoulders so I can zip the back of the gown," she squeals, as though giving me a demand.

I do as I complain, "Do I really have to wear that thing?"

"You know you should, no more questions," she says with quite an ill-tempered manner.

The skirt of the dress slightly flutters over the floor with layers of chiffon fabric that are the colours of rose gold and ivory. Numerous, small butterflies are embroidered on the skirts that they get less as they go upwards.

For the last touch for my clothing, she pushes the straps up to make sure everything's settled then goes to fix my hair.

Her pointy nails almost prick my scalp and I wince as she takes a wisp of hair from each side, twisting them into two braids.

"Don't forget your ballet shoes for the dance," she commands again and I nod, bored. Bored that I have to dance each year at this event, in front of narcissistic Purebloods.

It's an occasional thing Pureblood families do, and one of them would be a masquerade.

When Deesy leaves, I pick up my ballet shoes and the wooden blocks. My insteps mark scars of excessively practising and now, these scars will be reimpaired.

"You're talented in many ways. Why don't you feel all confident about it?" Mum once said when I felt timid to dance around them.

"It's okay," I lie to myself and continue out of my room.

In the ballroom, an enormous chandelier hangs above our heads. Various types of drinks in fancy glasses hover their ways into the hands of our visitors who wear their masquerade masks.

I directly spot Daphne, and she waves for me to come towards her. It takes me a little while to recognise the people's faces.

"Hello Mrs Zabini," I say nervously, looking at a woman whose seven husbands mysteriously died, leaving her an extensive amount of gold.

She looks at me like I'm some piece of rubbish with a phoney smile on her face.

"Aurora my dear, you're exceptionally lucky to have Daphne as your sister," she says.

Surely they like to talk about my pureblood princess of sister.

"Yes," I say, trying to keep my tone untraceable from any traces of my intense sarcasm.

They continue talking about Daphne and her life accomplishments while I stand next to them looking like an idiot.

Later, uncle Nathan calls me for a little talk. He hasn't attended the masquerade for 3 years now, for he works as an Auror mainly employed in the discovery and analysis of dark objects. He came this year on the mission of seeking an object belonging to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Mum and Dad are standing are next to each other, glasses of wine in their hands. She takes off her mask, beaming at me with a beautiful smile.

The coincidence of having a veela mother and not being one is very unfortunate, especially when your sister is one.

Father holds in his other hand a casket. "There's something essential to be given to you at this event. And in the presence of your uncle," he says, a tender grin on his face as he opens the box.

A bracelet glistens in its tiny diamonds with an emerald holding the symbol of our family.

"An heirloom?" I ask with pleasure and surprise.