''𝙅𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙨𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝙄'𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬- 𝙨𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣.'' Loving you was the most exquisite form of self destruction.
- VOLUME I of the HOUSE OF B...
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• ── ≪ ✧ ◦《✩》◦✧ ≫ ── •
tw. non graphic mentions abuse
THE PACKING OF TRUNKS AND JOURNEY HOME ABOARD the Hogwarts express was a rushed affair for Estella who'd slept well through the early morning, wrapped in the strong embrace of none other than Evan Rosier.
Or at least that's who it was once she'd woken, in her dreams those firm arms belonged to another.
As she waited on the platform in Charing Cross alongside her sisters, scouring the jam packed crowds for her parents, Estella recalled the mornings wakeup. How she'd risen before Evan, her body so used to the gruelling five a.m. study regime.
Unlike the harsh angles of his features during the day, when Evan slept he looked completely at peace.
Estella recalled how she had traced her fingers featherlight over his sharp cheekbones, watched how his chest rose steadily with each deep breath, how his long eyelashes fluttered against his skin. Estella hadn't wanted to leave. She'd wanted to stay.
''Mother!'' Bellatrix called excitedly. She released Estella's hand to wave as Druella and Cygnus walked over to the three girls. Their steps were clipped, short and efficient.
''Don't holler, Bellatrix.'' Druella chastised. She snapped her fingers and an unfamiliar house elf darted out from behind the pair to collect their trunks.
''Sorry mother.'' Bellatrix mumbled sheepishly. Andromeda squeezed her hand in silent support, yet instead of welcoming the comforting gesture, Bellatrix slapped her hand away.
That's what Cygnus and Druella did to the girls, they turned love and affection into things to be despised. Things that inspired weakness. It was much better to stand alone, pride intact.
''Come along now.'' Cygnus spoke hastily. He disliked the crowds of platform nine and three quarters greatly, it was common and caused him to break out into hives.
The sisters didn't need too be told twice. Following Estella's lead they gathered in a tight circle and linked arms as the family were promptly apparated away.
The whirling sensation was over before it had time to root itself in Estella's stomach and before she could blink, her feet were touching solid ground once more as the Black's stood in the entryway of Black Manor.
Contrastingly to aunt Walburga's city townhouse, Black Manor was the ancestral home of the Blacks, passed down from generation to generation.
Black Manor was a sprawling Estate deep in the English countryside, concealed from all muggle eyes and whomever might pry by a carefully manipulated shielding spell performed by the Dark Lord himself.
