𝐓𝐚𝐝𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚 || 𝐃.𝐌

𝐈 || 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐚

~❀~

~❀~

[𝐅𝐞𝐰 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐀𝐠𝐨]

Paris, France. The year 2003 in the month of July. The city of light was always the place where beautiful cafés, delicious pastries, boutiques, and of course, the well known "Eiffel Tower" are to be found. Though, It wasn't only these beautiful sights, food and things that can be seen in the City, but also a well known Prima Ballerina has started her career here and became one of the most successful ballet dancers of all time in France.

Y/n Adellaine Magindara. Born in the year 1981 and aged 22. She is determined as a perfectly fine young girl and adored by many. Her mother, Mrs Glinda Clair-Magindara, did her best to have such a fine daughter. Y/n is her greatest joy and pride, and she did everything to make her daughter known in the classical art of Ballet.

However, to add this statement on, her blood has a mixture of English and Filipino, the blood of her English Mother and the blood of her Filipino father.

Mrs Magindara, whose maiden name was Clair, was the Chairwoman of the company that has been owned by the Clair Family for generations. It was a Clothing Company. It has been passed down to her since she's the first child in their family. Mr Gabriel Magindara, her father and the husband of Glinda, was a lawyer. He's not just any ordinary lawyer, he is ranked 3 in one of the best lawyers of France. Although, this has come to an end when he met the end of his life through a car crash on that one evening when Y/n was only 10 years old.

However, many could determine that Y/n has inherited a lot from her father's features. Her raven and shining hair, her brown skin, which Filipinos call Morena, and her dark eyes with a hint of her mother's hazelnut eyes.

The Magindaras lives in a Mansion, which in french they call Manoir, in the village where wealthy people live, the Village of L'ange. The Magindaras' Manoir was one of the oldest Manoir that lived and owned for 50 years of the Clairs. It was another possession of Mrs Magindara, other than their company, from her family.

The Manoir was composed of 20 bedrooms, a gourmet kitchen, a library, a formal and casual dining room, a living room, fitness room, a ballroom, wine cellar, activity room, Housekeepers quarters and of course, let us not forget the young miss' ballet room, where she would take her practice every day.

Her Ballet room has wide and tall mirrors for her to see her movements and across those mirrors are tall windows with a balcony on the middle of it and white curtains hanging on the top of each and every window as it danced with the wind, coming from the outside. The walls are perfectly painted with cream and the ceiling is with a crystal chandelier.

Y/n was there, sitting on the light-coloured wooden floor and customizing her pointe shoes as she banged them on the wooden floor to make them comfortable for her to wear.

"Ms Y/n," Her mother's secretary, Ms Ysabelle Fronchester knocked on the opened door. "You must get ready. You have a practice at 1." She informed, looking down at the schedule that Y/n's mother had organized.

To which, she replied, "Let me just finish this then I'll get ready in a mere moment. And oh— Please do tell Mr Smith to prepare me something light in the stomach. I might eat it on my way to the theatre."

"I'll let him now. Good day," Ms Fronchester crept up a smile, giving it to the young miss and went back to her work.

Y/n did the same, going back to what she was doing.

Fifteen minutes has passed and Y/n got up to her knees, carrying her pointe shoes after fixing the mess that she created whilst fixing her pointe shoes earlier.

She gave out a sigh, a sigh that indicates that she felt relieved that she has fixed her shoes to her liking and to her comfort.

She proceeded outside the room, her shoes clicking on the white marble tiles of their home.

The Hallway of their house was painted white, matching it to their wooden furniture such as paintings hung on the wall, the wooden small round table with a bunch of flowers in its vase, and armchairs and couches, pressed against the wall, for someone to sit when in need of rest.

She had entered the foyer of their Manoir and was greeted by the imperial staircase with a round table in the middle. On the top of that table was a variety of flowers in a vase.

Her feet carried her to the left stairs, her hand running on the black bannister as she climbed up to the second floor of their Manoir, heading to her bedroom.

~❀~

It was all over the gossip papers that one young man had decided to settle in for a while in France to write a new book. He is known to be a friend of one of the interns and a friend of the famous choreographer, Louis Lemmington. Marc Thompson was the name of that one friend, a 23 years old friend and an intern, that this young writer met whilst staying in Japan.

Who might this young traveller and writer be? Well, it is already certain that he is no other Draco Malfoy, a 23 years old man who started traveling around when he was 18.

He is not just an ordinary man. He is a wizard himself and no one has to know. It is a secret that must be kept to the non-magical people, who they call muggles.

He left his home when he was 18, for he turned his back on his family's perspectives or views among the non Pureblooded wizards. He got sick and tired, especially when his parents had forced him to find a bride, whose blood is pure like theirs. And so, he had chosen to leave the Malfoy estate to open his eyes to the world that he once believed was disgusting.

However, he has learned that muggles are just like them too, but they just don't possess any magic like theirs.

Draco had settled into his apartment, which has a view of the beautiful and famous structure of France, the Eiffel Tower. His apartment was not large, nor small, it was just the exact size for him to live and he didn't care whether it was expensive or not, and he even bought his own car so that he could drive around the city. He has his own savings and he had sold many copies of his books: Fiction and Nonfiction. And he bas been living comfortably becoming of his savings.

He had a cup of coffee in his hands, standing on the balcony and admiring the site in front of his eyes.

He had been in France before, but he never always got the chance to freely roam around like the others. But now, it is his chance to finally explore the city and start a new chapter of his new book.