the wizarding world is at war. wizards and witches are in a battle for dark and light- for power. the world seems like it's coming to a tragic end.
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draco malfoy meets a girl living in his home. and she's a death eater.
but that doesn't stop him...
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𓆙 Anastasia always liked to be called her nickname, Devon, more than her given name. Something about her first name always brought back memories of when she was a small child, who longed for things that were always bigger than her. So, when she grew out of her shell of a being, she became Devon. It didn't match her physical state much better than Anastasia did, but it was better than the name itself.
She always liked to hide behind a mask.
As of right now, Devon was in a library she had located in the mansion she had resided in for over a week now. She had mostly stayed cooped up in the kitchens or one of the guest bedrooms she was borrowing.
Devon didn't like to socialize. It was a trait she picked up when she was just a small child. Her mother scolded her about always being ladylike, and speaking only unless spoken to. A rule overused in today's society, but of course, she didn't speak up about it.
Devon's fingertips raked across the book spines as she skimmed through each column of book shelves. Each book was dusty and old. Not the kind of dust picked up from never being cleaned, but one from ages of years.
Not one piece of literature she's seen in the dark library was muggle-written. All of them were written about pureblood supremacy, or some other bland topic that consisted of no muggle relations.
Devon didn't mind. Seeing as how she was raised, she didn't care for muggles as much as any other witch in the world.
The doors to the library held a firm rap as they opened with a loud slam. "We're having a meeting. Let's go," called Corban Yaxley from the doorway.
Devon didn't turn towards him, back still faced towards him. "Right. Coming, Yaxley." Her rich French accent held strong from years of living in the country.
The fellow Deatheater gave no response as he left the doorway, not bothering to close the doors.
Devon finally turned around when his footsteps disappeared. She slid her hands into the pockets of her black, formal dress.
With a quick glide, her dress began to swoosh between her legs as she started for the large room that held the meetings for the Death Eaters.
The faint sound of voices leaked from behind two large, dark doors. Granted, everything in the ghastly mansion was considered dark.
Devon took a quick, short breath. She opened the two doors with a heavy push, announcing her presence broadly.
The room got quiet as heads turned her way. It wasn't a moment later that the chatter began to pick up again.
Devon made her way to an open seat at the table. She placed herself in the chair, looking up as soon as her rump touched the stiff wood.
"Narcissa, pleasure seeing you again. Again, thank you for your hospitality and graciousness of letting me house myself in your home for the time being." Devon's silky voice spoke up. She ran a single hand down her dress to finally rest in the chair.
