14 | lonely witshire



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"I'M A MESS."

Valerie Grindelwald could hardly bare to look at herself as she stood in front of her mirror. The young witch had fallen asleep in the courtyard by accident, and so here she was, trying to fix her disheveled appearance before the Malfoy carriage arrived.

Her light blonde hair had grown over the summer, falling just below her shoulders, but unfortunately, the frizz had grown with it. She mentally cursed herself as her mind went blank, suddenly unable to remember any useful spells for the matter at hand.

"Uh, Crinus Muto?" with a wave of her wand, her hair was washed into a horrifying neon pink, "Merlin, help me."

Valerie somehow managed to turn it back, but the sound of hooves pattering against the castle grounds rang through her window, and her eyes went wide as she realised who had arrived. Peering from atop her tower, she spotted Lucius Malfoy stepping down from his carriage, clad in black from head to toe.

"At least I don't wear extensions..." Valerie murmured under her breath, taking one last glance at her less than acceptable reflection before rushing down the winding staircases.

Valerie walked out the doors with two guards by her side, trying to keep a collected composure as she came face to face with the guests.

Holding her hand out, she introduced herself, "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. I'm Valerie—"

"Grindelwald," Lucius finished for her, shaking her hand curtly, "We meet at last."

She drew her hand back warily, sending him an awkward smile that could pass as more of a grimace, "The pleasure is all mine."

"Oh, Draco has told us the most wonderful things about you," Mrs. Malfoy spoke, "Call me Narcissa, dear."

As wrong as her words sounded, Valerie respectfully greeted the woman back. She then noticed the absence of a certain infuriating boy, a feat she would have paid no mind to if not for the current circumstances.

Lucius seemed to have caught on her confusion, "My son is waiting at the manor. He's got this peculiar case of motion sickness."

Valerie slowly nodded, and it abruptly hit her that this journey would be a thousand times more uncomfortable than she had expected.

If she'd lost control, Valerie swore that a cell in Azkaban would already be waiting for her. Cause of arrest— pushing Lucius Malfoy off his own carriage. The fake-haired man had continuously been asking her every question known to wizard, particularly invested in her academic endeavours.

"I heard you have an astonishing talent for Charms, yes?" he queried, "Strange. Your grandfather had it too."

"Yes," Valerie forced a smile, "It's called genetics."

There was a twitch on Lucius' austere facade, but the bitterness was quickly buried with dry laughter, "Gutsy. That might prove useful, or terminal."

Valerie narrowed her eyes at the man, before shifting her gaze down at the scene outside the carriage window. Her jaw nearly dropped at the sight of it.

The Malfoy Manor was a colossal structure, large enough to rival Nurmengard Castle. It was unconvincing to her that its residents consisted of a family of a mere three people. Valerie couldn't help but notice its dreary, prosaic ambience, akin to the aura she'd felt at the citadel. It looked like a prison. And, maybe to some extent, it was.

She was lead into the compound by Lucius and Narcissa, the latter of which had given her a light tour of the entrance area, musing on the dark green hedges enveloping the vine covered walls. She felt a sense of warmth in the woman's small smile. To others, it might have looked like a hoax, but Valerie remembered her grandfather's words. Sometimes, you can see a person's motives right in their very eyes, and she knew that Narcissa Malfoy held a troubled sincerity behind hers.

They had eventually made it to the main entrance, tall doors creaking open at Lucius' command. The young witch yelped when she felt something on her feet, backing away from the small, bony-looking creature that now stood before her.

"Er," she stammered, backing away, from the house elf, "Excuse me?"

The creature stared up at her with his large eyes before bowing incessantly, "Dobby apologises, Miss. Dobby was only trying to shine Miss Grindelwald's shoes."

"Oh, it's alright," she denied, "You don't have to do that."

"What did I tell you, Dobby?" Lucius spat, kicking the house elf to the floor, "You do not speak to a prominent guest."

Valerie rushed to Dobby's side, before sending Lucius a look of disgust, "You're poison."

Lucius hummed quizzically in response, as if his thoughts had clocked into place, before walking away from the two. Valerie pulled the house elf up from the ground, "Are you okay?"

"Dobby is more than okay," he spoke in a shaky voice, "From this point on, Dobby is eternally in debt to Miss Valerie Grindelwald."

"What? No, you're not, Dobby," Valerie violently shook her head, trying to stop him from bowing. She eventually succeeded, compelling that she was fine on her own.

Narcissa watched as the girl cautiously followed into the capacious dining area, "Make yourself at home, dear. Let me call Draco."

Curiosity getting the best of her, Valerie stopped the woman before she could stand up, "I could do it, if you'd like?"

"Oh, how kind of you, Valerie. I'm truly sorry for the inhospitality," Narcissa told her, referring to both Lucius and Draco, "Upstairs, first door to the left."

Valerie smiled in understanding, starting towards the grandiose flight of stairs leading to the second story of the manor. She took her time observing the endless portraits hanging on the walls as they stared at her with intrigue or distaste. Her expression contorted into one of confusion, however, when she heard feint sobs from the room she had been directed to.

Looking through the door's narrow opening, she spotted a figure seated at the foot of the bed with his hands covering his face. She lifted a hesitating fist to the wood, knocking thrice.

"I'm coming, father," the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy answered. His tone was deep and cold, free from its usual spite.

"Malfoy?" Valerie pushed the door open, revealing her presence, "Are you alright?"

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked, clearly taken aback.

"You invited me," Valerie replied, leaning on the doorframe as she surveyed the room. It was empty and bleak, save for a few displays of Slytherin trophies or tapestries. Across the exorbitant bed hung a painting of his family, their faces unsmiling.

Draco looked like he was about to deny, before putting on his usual scowl, "I meant, what are you doing in my room?"

Valerie waved off his question, "Seriously, I saw you—"

"You didn't see anything," Draco snapped, storming out of the room and into the hallway.

"Your eyes give it away," Valerie spoke as the boy stoped in his tracks, "It's your father, isn't it?"

There was a crack in his composure, but it was gone in a second, "I don't know know what you're talking about."

Valerie raised her hands up in defence, knowing that he didn't want to talk about it. She was about to walk back down the stairs when she heard him sigh.

"I just— I just wish I could get it right for once."

"Get what right?" Valerie asked, turning around to face him.

"Anything," Draco shook his head, "It's never enough for him."

He let out a scoff when he was met without a response, looking down at the floor, "It's stupid."

Valerie was at a loss for words, not expecting what he had told her. She finally spoke, "I don't know what your father's definition of right is, but you are capable of it."

Draco furrowed his eyebrows at her, not a clue on what she was trying to say.

Valerie grimaced before continuing, hoping that she was helping the situation, "Last year, at the forest. I don't remember much before passing out, but I did see you run away like a headless chicken."

"Your point?" Draco crossed his arms at her, undeniably insulted.

"But you came back," Valerie shrugged, only confusing him even more, "You could've run back to the castle, but you called Hagrid for help instead."

There were a few moments of silence between the not-so-friendly pair.

"Besides, that saying 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree'? It's codswallop in my opinion," Valerie told him honestly, before her lips curved into a sly grin, "Unless, you wear hair extensions as well?"

Draco's head shot up, "What?"

"Nothing..." Valerie averted her eyes, stifling a laugh. From a peripheral view, she caught the boy on the verge of what seemed to be a smile. The whole conversation, he was nothing like he usually was, no taunting remarks or discriminatory insults. Maybe she had him all wrong.

"We should head down," Draco declared, "My mother might be worried. I am alone with the granddaughter of a mass murderer."

Or maybe she didn't.



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