Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding W...
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"By far the most horrifying thing to happen at the World Cup was Saintday's make over," Pansy scoffed bitterly with a deep frown on her features.
Daphne who had been sitting in the same train compartment as Malfoy, Zabini and Parkinson lightly rolled her eyes. She had been growing sick and tired of Pansy's pessimistic attitude and the fact she seemed to criticize everything and everyone around her. She had no doubt the standards also applied to her behind her back.
"I liked it," Daphne said tossing a strand of hair over her shoulder vainly. "You're awfully picky and even you fancied it, didn't you Blaise?"
"Saintday might actually look decent now, but she's still as wicked as a doxy. You can see it in her eyes." Zabini said lowering the copy of the Daily Prophet he was reading. The cover of it depicting the Dark Mark that had been casted over the Quidditch World Cup campgrounds. "Not that I mind," He added slimily the edge of his lip turning up.
Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes, he simply kept a disinterested gaze focused on the blurring greens and blues outside of the window. Nel's eyes, doxy like wouldn't have been how he described them. Maybe he would've used the word intense, usually pregnant with a strong emotion be it rage, sadness, mischief and on rare occasions joy. Like when she took the first bite of a lemon tart or whenever Ireland scored back at the Quidditch World Cup.
"What do you think Draco?" Pansy who looked beyond irritated tossed the question at him. "Hm?" He asked after a moment suddenly caught off-guard.
"See, he didn't even notice," Satisfied by his disinterest in the topic. Pansy rolled her eyes towards her friend. "You know what they say. You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear," She said nastily. "Snelly Nelly might have a new wardrobe but she's still a graceless, nameless clod. Even the Lestrange wouldn't claim her."
"Stars, Pansy, are you always so unbearable?" Daphne scoffed fully annoyed before standing up and leaving the compartment. Her attitude getting on the last of her nerves.
"What?" Pansy looked at her incredulously a confused look on her pug like face. "Was it something I said?"
Daphne shut the door behind her. Blaise nudged Malfoy who seemed completely out of tune with reality.
"Something on your mind?" The Egyptian boy asked his friend partly concerned but more in a nosey matter.
Xxxxx
'Mr. Black,
I really wish we could have had a more proper conversation when we met. I have a lot of questions and it seems like we have reached a miscommunication, so here I am, writing to you demanding asking for an explanation. Seeking answers to unanswered questions.
You claimed you 'saved' me from some very dark people. Who? Why? How did you find me? Why did you take me away from this 'bad' place?
I don't mean to preach about my miserable young life, but perhaps things would have been better this way. Maybe then I wouldn't have grown up in a hellish orphanage where I was locked up in a dark room in isolation and starved for most of my life. Or adopted by a Pureblood fanatic who keeps me tied to a chair in a locked room.
