The Siblings

Sunday, 15 July 1990

Malfoy Manor

A cool breeze lifted the broken brown leaves of the earth and blew them across the land.

The sun was high in the sky, the lake reflecting shimmering sunlight. Several ducks quacked, diving up and down, beating their wings at each other. Birds of uncountable kinds chirped, some visible, some just hiding behind the cover of boughs.

Darcie pulled a lock of her hair back and wrapped it around her ear.

In the shades of trees, she had taken a seat on the bank of the lake, where the ground began sloping down before meeting the waters some 10 ft away. Behind her, given away by the swaying trees, the tips of Malfoy Manor's towers peeked now and then.

At 10, Darcie Malfoy was a tall girl, with a height of 5 ft and 1 inch. She had never undergone a growth spurt. Like everything, the process of her growing up had been so gradual that none could tell the difference. It was especially so with the last year.

No new published papers. No vibrant events. And no outrageous public appearances.

The wizarding world would have forgotten about Darcie if she had not become too famous for her own good. The Daily Prophet never forgot to remind the world of her silence. Then some scholars kept commenting on her published papers and newspaper columns.

But no matter how far-reach and deplorable the talks became, Darcie had never replied.

Well, for one, she had been just too busy to reply or do anything else, as a matter of fact. For another, she wanted to spend her last two years before school with no bombastic disturbances.

Darcie leaned back and lay down on the cool grass, her blue frock gaining wet, mossy smudges here and there.

She lifted her hand and pointed the wand toward the sky.

In her ears, she heard the distinct crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder.

No one could hear it, other than her. No one could feel the tingling, cheerful, but powerful vibrations coursing through her hand from the wand. And no one could see the faintest hint of miniature green-black lightning arcs snaking up the wand, fueled by her Intentions.

A dense, black fog seeped out from the tip of her wand and gathered over her, becoming a puffy cloud.

Crack!

Tiny electric bolts of lightning slithered within it, thunder rumbling in her ears.

Darcie flicked the wand and sent the rain cloud flying toward the lake. The ducks saw it coming and paddled away from it, quacking louder and louder.

The cloud followed. It caught up with them.

Then it rained.

Another whoosh of breeze, now faster, slapped against her face.

"Whoa!" Draco made a big O with his mouth, stepping off the broom. "How did you do it?!"

Darcie shrugged.

Draco paused beside her, narrowing his eyes at the distant raining cloud, which was still chasing the ducks.

Her brother had grown as well, standing at a height of 4 ft and 10 inches. Of late, he had picked up a habit of flying around the fields, instead of torturing Dobby all around the clock.

Speaking of that, Darcie couldn't remember when Draco had kicked or shouted at Dobby the last time. She had heard her father doing so just a week back. But, compared to the constant harassment, she considered it a great leap toward decency.

The most drastic change she had seen was in her mother.

On her 10th birthday, Darcie had pulled up the courage, inviting the Weasleys. Narcissa had flatly rejected her request, though she had allowed her to invite the children. Only Ginny and Ron came, of course, but that was a different matter altogether.

"Oi!" Draco shouted, looming over her face. "Wand!"

Darcie threw the wand toward him. Draco, shocked by the sudden throw, lunged at the wand.

The moment he wrapped his fingers around it, his entire hand jolted and he gasped, then screamed. "Ahh!" The wand dropped.

"Hehehe!" Darcie laughed. "You forgot. Again!"

"What the…" Draco held his fingers and rubbed them. "Every... single... time!"

Her wand was a tricky bitch, Darcie knew. No matter who tried to hold it, other than her, it would shock the hell out of them. Darcie believed it was an inherent jinx, whose potency varied depending on the target.

Draco and the rest of her family were still alright, who got zapped by a light shock. Daphne had been shocked heavily when she had held it. And Madam Villanelle had almost been shocked to unconsciousness.

Draco bent and lifted the wand again, as the wand didn't behave oddly the second time. He held the wand out gallantly and mumbled a few spells. The wand let out green and red sparks and then oozed out rocks, which danced on the ground before crying to their death.

The corners of Darcie's lips twitched ruefully. "Ah... Behold everyone, my brother, the Grand Wizard…" she jested, smiling. "What was that?"

"Shut up!" Draco frowned. "I just learned the spells last night and…"

"Oh!" Darcie raised an eyebrow. "Cared enough to open a book, did you?"

"Cared enough to open a book, did you?" Draco twisted his lips at her, repeating her question dramatically. Then he sighed. With a plop, he sat beside her, gazing out at the vanishing cloud. "Oi, Darcinominium," he said, "can you cast curses with this wand?"

Darcie sat up. "Call me Darcinominium... one more time... and we will find out."

Draco rolled his eyes. "That's nothing compared to what others call you, you know," he said, rather slowly. "Mine is much better. I think it's an actual element, or whatever, from the muggle world."

"It's not!" Darcie snapped. "And I don't care what others call me. Don't you go and punch someone next time just because of it. OK? I have to clear up the troubles you cause, always."

Draco threw himself back and sprawled on the grass. "Whatever, bro," he mumbled, rolling the wand between his fingers. "So… can you?"

Darcie glared at him for a moment and then looked away. "No," she said. "You think they would let an underage have a wand and not monitor what magic she cast?"

Draco propped himself on his elbows and grinned at her. "But how would they know?"

"Don't be an idiot!" Darcie said, snatching the wand out of his hands. "Not all are stupid like those two you hang out with."

The thing was, few knew about Darcie having a wand, to begin with. Millicent Bagnold, the minister of magic, knew because it was she who had stamped on Mr. Ollivander's application for Darcie to have a wand. Madam Villanelle knew for obvious reasons. Daphne knew because she was Darcie's friend, and, lately, Madam Villanelle's student in studies of magical creatures.

Darcie's parents had been informed by the minister herself, but they had not told them about her studying Wandmaking from Mr. Ollivander. Not yet. That left Draco and Dobby, from whom no one bothered to hide it, anyway.

She would tell them about Mr. Ollivander, Darcie thought. When she finally created her first wand, that is. Despite being at it for over a year, she had not even successfully created a simple wand using the Core Switching Method. Sigh!

"Crabbe and Goyle aren't that bad…" Draco complained. "They are just slow."

"Slow?" Darcie repeated, pushing back the thoughts of her failures regarding wandmaking. "Slow? That's all?"

Draco shrugged. "They are the only ones who bother to—"

"Oh, shut it, Draco," Darcie fumed, poking his ribs with the wand. "They left you alone when you were fighting, didn't they? Some friends they are… Why don't—"

"What?" Draco cut in, twisting his face. "Hang out with... Weasleys? Father will…"

"Enough with 'father will say that…' and 'father will think that…'" Darcie shook her head. "Who you make friends with shouldn't matter to father…"

"Then it shouldn't matter to you too, right?" Draco glared at her.

The siblings looked at each other.

Draco fell backward, putting his hands under his head. "Forget it. They don't like me, anyway."

"They…"

"Yeah?"

"Well, alright."

Darcie pulled her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them and Draco stared at the warm blues of the sky, both silent.

"I heard them in the morning," Draco said.

"Hmm?"

Draco sat up. "Father and mother," he said, pointing at the manor with his thumb. "He was telling her how it will be great for me to attend Durmstrang."

"Yeah, don't worry about that," Darcie said, looking ahead toward the lake. "You will attend Hogwarts with me."

"How do you know?"

Darcie looked at him over her shoulder. "Who am I?"

The siblings again looked at each other… and smiled together.

"I still can't believe you are coming with us to America next week," Draco said, grinning. "What about the bookshop… or whatever…"

Darcie shrugged. "You don't see Quidditch World Cup every year," she said. "Hey! What do you mean you can't believe it, eh? You think I can't beat you…"

"How about we find out?" Darcie said, standing up. He ran and threw his legs on the broomstick. "Oh, wait! You don't even have…"

Darcie pointed her wand up. "Accio Broom!"

Draco gaped as he saw the broomstick soaring through the sky after just a few moments.

"Yeah, you keep doing that, OK?" Darcie shouted, climbing the broom.

"Shit!" Draco jolted back and kicked the earth, shooting into the woods.

Still laughing, Darcie was about to lift off when she paused. Space rippled on her left and a large, black-colored veil apparated, elongating many times its size in a fraction of a second.

Lilith circled Darcie and then dropped a letter in her hands. It was more of a card, than a letter; white, with only one line in blue ink. It said —

All materials gathered, but the last. — Red Sun

*************

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