Narcissa Malfoy was most definitely exasperated. Ameline had decided to run off again, And Draco was throwing a tantrum over some new broomstick he wanted. Knowing that her son would win over Lucius shortly, she had left and was now searching for her daughter.
"No other pure-blood witch is trudging through a muggle neighbourhood looking for their disobedient child," she told herself. "I was never like this. Not even Bellatrix was like this, and I thought she was misbehaved!"
It really didn't take that long to locate Ameline, but the search wasn't the problem. Sitting in a germ-filled sandbox, in the middle of a playground completely surrounded by muggles was 10 year old Ameline- smiling and laughing with the filthy things of course!
Now, Narcissa is a very controlled woman, but keeping her mouth shut and simply dragging her daughter home took every ounce of her willpower. Ignoring Ameline's complaints, she continued all the way to their front yard, far from those disgusting children, before releasing her arm, and trudging across the lawn.
"Mum, wait!" Ameline begged. "What did I do? I was just playing with my friends!"
Narcissa froze, turned rapidly on her heels, and marched back to her daughter, pointing a finger directly at her chest.
"Friends?" She exclaimed. "You call those wretched things friends?"
Frustrated, Ameline threw her hands into the air. "And what on earth is wrong with that?"
"How can I make you understand? They. Are. Muggles! And your blood is as pure as can be! You are so much better than those... creatures!"
"How Mum? You're being completely ridiculous!"
"I cannot believe that I am actually having this conversation with you! I'm sick of your attitude. Go to your room!" This time she didn't stop on her quick trek for the door, slamming it behind her upon entering the home.
Ameline sighed over-dramatically, something she was getting rather good at, stomped all the way into the house, and kicked off her shoes before noticing Draco's presence. "Some-one's in trou-ble!" he sang from his place on the parlour sofa.
"Oh shut up you! Where's Dad?"
"Comforting Mum, of course. She's really upset, you know. What did you do, uproot her rosebush?"
Some things are just not worth responding to. Following this principle, she went and hid in her room.
Chapter note: I wrote this a few months ago, but just found it again, and realize it's terrible. I am posting it to simply placate a friend (you know who you are!) If anyone actually enjoys this I'll continue the story. If not...then I won't.