In the exclusive world of Hogwarts, Clarissa White is known as the "Slytherin Princess" for her fierce demeanor and sharp intellect. Born to the powerful and wealthy White family, she embodies everything that is expected of a true Slytherin: cunning...
"I'm not the jealous type, but what's mine is mine. End of story."
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During the holidays, Clarissa often heard the sound of footsteps echoing outside of the dark manor. She knew without a doubt that it was her parents who were dealing with the return of the Dark Lord, and were trying to avoid being caught by the Ministry. Their connections and reputation with the Ministry, as well as Joseph's high-ranking position, were all at stake.
Despite her disgust for the revolting, filthy creature that was lurking around her manor, Clarissa kept her feelings concealed. She couldn't let her emotions get in the way of the greater good, which was to resurrect the one who should not be named.
The sight of Peter Pettigrew made her skin crawl, and the way it leered at her with a greedy glint in its eyes was enough to make her want to retch. She couldn't let it get the better of her, though. She had to remain composed and focused on the task at hand, no matter how repulsive it was.
There were moments when she felt uneasy about keeping this massive secret from Draco. He had been her childhood companion, and she had never kept anything from him. But she knew that this was the only way to avoid being caught. Draco was known for being overly obvious at times, and he had a tendency to blabber on about everything he knew. She couldn't risk jeopardising everything her family had worked for by confiding in him.
Her parents always tried to convince her that they were the only ones who truly believed in blood supremacy, unlike the other supporters who didn't bother to look for any signs. They were convinced that it was their duty to revive the Dark Lord and bring the new era of pureblood dominance. Clarissa, for her part, was motivated by a combination of her loyalty to her family and her belief in the superiority of purebloods. She was playing a dangerous game, and she knew that one misstep could mean the end of everything.
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As Clarissa made her way down the grand staircase, the white of her coat contrasting beautifully with the darkness of her dress, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement coursing through her veins. She had been to many events before, but this was different. This was the World Cup, and she and her family had been personally invited by Cornelius Fudge himself.
She adjusted her delicate white gloves and looked down at the pendant around her neck, a gift from Draco. It was a symbol of their love, a love that had grown stronger over the years. Clarissa knew that she was truly in love with Draco and that nothing could ever change that. She had made sure to bring her beloved ferret, Draco, with her as well.
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As Clarissa stepped out into the cool evening air, she couldn't help but notice the elegance of the Malfoys, all dressed in their finest robes. The fabric flowed beautifully with their movements, and the intricate embroidery showcased their wealth and status. Draco, in particular, caught her eye. He was wearing a black ensemble that contrasted beautifully with his bright platinum blonde hair. The rings Clarissa had given him in their second year glinted in the moonlight, adorning his fingers with a quiet grace.
