Chapter 200: Darcie Malfoy
Darcie Malfoy shared her family's coldness in her eyes, but she had neither the gray of her father and twin brother in them nor the blues of her mother. Hers were green; the color of poisonous leaves at night.
Her long, silky hair had more white than gold, and her face matched the complexion and sharpness of her brother. Even at 6, she promised beauty and grandeur. But those were not the words she was known for.
If there was one word that could remotely hope to justify her little existence, then it was —
Composed.
Magic had embraced her early when she was just a baby in her cradle.
From making the flowers bloom when her mother had taken her out for a stroll through the gardens to making the birds fly towards her with one reach of her hand, she had shown it all.
Yet, none had ever seen Darcie crying or fussing over something since she had started to walk by herself. Draco had shown a great magical potential, too, but not till he neared 3, and she learned the meaning of this difference sooner than one could have thought.
What had pained her in the years to come was that even after being the better of the two, her father had only given her love, not promises.
It all had ever come to Draco to uphold the family's pride after growing up, Draco to live up to the family's greatness, and Draco to continue the family's splendor, as he was the heir of the great pure-blood Malfoy family.
Darcie had never hated her brother for it, for somehow she realized early that all these things that had pained her so had also pained Draco. Even more than her in ways she couldn't understand yet, perhaps.
Indignation, though, had welled up in her heart, anyway.