Light in the Darkness

Chapter Three

The Greengrass family strode up to the Malfoy Manor a little while later, and Astoria wondered if she could possibly hate anywhere more than here. She never liked the place, but she never hated it with such vehemence as she did now.

For, she never hated those inside it as she did now.

Ever since her fifth year at Hogwarts, three years ago, her life, her world, was a living hell.

When she was fifteen, Voldemort and his Death Eaters, now dubbed The Augury, had overthrown the ministry, and killed the only possible savior to the wizard race; Harry Potter. He had died, the battle had been lost, and the world fell apart.

Astoria never did go back to Hogwarts after the battle. She and her family claimed she was studying at Beauxbatons, when in actuality, she was just too terrified to go back, and was huddled up at home.

But here they stood, still fulfilling their ludicrous pureblood duty, and showing up to all the parties, all the weddings, all the nonsense the pureblooded class hosted to secure their place at the top of society.

And Astoria resented it all.

The night air was crisp and chilled, but not too heinously cold, considering it was Christmas, after all.

It was no colder than it was inside the immaculate labyrinth called a house she found herself standing in. Walking up the sumptuous marble staircase, she followed the same route to the ballroom she'd walked many times, for, the Malfoys seemed to host the most of the asinine parties.

People, all dressed in their best finery, flitted and galavanted about the room, lavish pillars and decorations furnishing the vast ballroom, ornamented with a good deal of bedecked Christmas trees. Despite the jolly holiday, the decorations were all either gold, silver or black, none to bring a sense of remembrance to the actual event. Just another excuse to parade themselves around in front of the only people they deemed worthy.

Astoria was thankful that at least Voldemort was not present. If he was, she might have died on the spot of sheer terror. But then again, he never came to these parties, too busy being a psychopathic dictator. However, his most trusted companions were there, and her onset death of fright was still not ruled out because of this.

She looked over at her sister, who was sporting her politest, haughtiest look available; ready to settle on a courtship.

Daphne decided this was the night. Now, or never, she'd said.

Seeing her prepare to thank their hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, Astoria strategized her escape toward the food table in her head. Once they began to stride after the couple, looming about in the center of the room, she sidestepped and made briskly over to hide behind a large dessert platter, nearly toppled over with pumpkin pasties. There was something about the Malfoys specifically that caused her to team with anxiety. Especially Lucius; his gaunt face and cruel eyes.

She wasn't hungry in the slightest, but nibbled at the corner of one of the pumpkin pastries to make her presence seem more natural.

She eyed her family, doting and giggling over by their hosts. Their superiors.

She put another pumpkin pastie in her hand, absently picking at the flaking dough while watching.

After a few more phony smiles and forced laughs, Daphne glanced around the room, her eyes finding her sister and gracefully slipping over.

She settled beside Astoria, peering over the food like she was about to pick something, and muttered beneath her breath, "That was rude, Astoria."

"What," she mumbled back.