After years of training, a person could maybe pick up a sort of sixth sense for things, like emotional ranges. Something she had learned years ago with her father. So whenever someone slipped into the darkness, she could practically taste the hatred, the violence that radiated from the stranger. She was positive she knew who the person was, but couldn't exactly pinpoint the name. She could barely pinpoint her own name. She didn't hear the steps but felt malicious intent and tried to brace for pain, because it always came.
When it did, like usual, she felt as if she left her body. She could picture it clearly in her head, the vision of light, the sounds of waves crashing, the feel of sand under her feet. She could even see herself, sunglasses on her face, leaning against Charlie, her brother and Potter running in the waves of the ocean. She felt serenity, safety, and peace in the dream her head tried to use to protect her from the pain. Even locked inside her head, she would've felt a probing at her mind for information, but it never came. She hadn't been taken for information on the Order or Potter. She could barely handle the lack of noise, could barely handle the lack of sound, the lack of feeling.
She couldn't let herself forget who she was. She was Asteria Malfoy, and she wouldn't lose her mind in this desolate place.
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The Lost Malfoy
Fan fikciaBook 2 After everything Asteria Malfoy has sacrificed, lost, and learned. It doesn't stop the repercussions of a coming war. And on the night Albus Dumbledore is murdered, Asteria is kidnapped by a Death Eater. Held in captivity, her determined brot...
