The room was filled to the brim with people, all frozen, overtaken by the sudden chill in the air and sense of dread. They could hear her, for she was the only one moving in the room. They could hear her heels click against the marble floor along with the soft swish of her ball gown dragging across the floor. Beside her was a soft patter of a man's shoe, belonging to the man she had married not long after the war had ended. He was, while good hearted, a cold and callused man, her perfect match. The war had changed her, freezing her heart and making her far colder then the man beside her. No one besides her husband and father in law had the courage to look her in the eye because what they saw frightened them.
Slowly the room went back to normal, if you could call it that. The arrival of the couple had put everyone on edge. They all watched her from the corner of their eye; careful to step out of her way should she come their way.
They can't help their curiosity, so they allow themselves a peak at her. She stands by her husband wearing a floor length sleeveless black gown and a dark emerald necklace with her dark brown hair up in a French twist. She was undeniably beautiful, but terrifying. Her dark red lips were pursed together and her once brown eyes were black with glints of hatred and anger. She turns to her husband, a glass of wine in hand, and whispers something they could not hear. He nodded to his wife before turning and disappearing out the doors that led to the balcony. Her lips twist in a cruel smile as she turns and glides over to say her greetings to the Minister and his wife.
They watch her as she walks, her black gloved hand clutching the wine glass in a death grip.
"Good Evening Minister Potter," she says in a voice so sweet yet so terrifying. They can tell that the minister is only pretending to be unaffected by her cold presence. She smirks at him, knowing full well she makes him uncomfortable.
"Mistress Malfoy," he greets stiffly. He pulls his red haired wife closer to him.
"How are the children, Ginerva?" she asks, ignoring the minister and turning her attention to his terrified wife.
"They are well."
The crowd continues to watch the Malfoy bride, a woman that was often referred to as the Mistress of the Darkness.
"How are your children, Mistress Malfoy?" They can see the slightly fearful look on the minister's wife's face as she inquires about the children that had not been seen since their births years ago.
"I don't know, I hardly care for children," the cold hearted retorts with a smirk, almost implying that they no longer lived.
"If you don't mind, Minister, Ginverva," her husband stated as he reappeared by his wife's side, "my wife and I have to return home."
Without another word the couple floated out of the ballroom like one would expect of a ghost child.
When they were gone and the temperature in the room had leveled out, everyone returned to the festivities. The men and women broke off into groups and gossiped about the couple that had left only minutes ago after only an hour of the event.
They talked and they laughed and they speculated about the couple, but they focused on her, as they always did. What was it that had made the girl, that had once been friends with the two boys that she had assisted in saving the world, freeze her heart?