An Incandescent Melody

The balcony was dusted with the last remaining leaves of the sturdy oak to its left and the girl did almost everything in her power to avoid stepping on the leftovers of the various birds' nests that had littered the tree like towers on a castle front. She felt that it would almost be disrespectful to tread upon the remains of such wonderful works of art, especially since the homeowners were long gone or dead. The yellow leaves beneath her feet crunched as she made her way to the railing.

Her ebony curls were loose and free in the wind, brushing against her back like the hands of a lover and making her shiver involuntarily. There was something about today that had her on edge. Maybe it was because it would be her last day in her birth home. Maybe it was because she was moving away to what seemed like a distant land. It wasn't that far, but it still felt like it to her.

Her brother had no preference, whether they moved or if they didn't. He was a solitary creature, anyway, and had very little attachment to anyone. That is, except, his beloved little sister, Terrwyn. Her teal gaze softened at the thought. Salem loved her more than the air he breathed, it seemed. And he was a passionate creature—impulsive and protective—though he rarely had the motive to extort himself in such ways.

"Teri," a voice behind her whispered, breaking her from the trance-like reminiscing she had enveloped herself in. She peered over her shoulder and was met with the cool gaze of her brother. His black hair and startling grey/blue eyes made him a terrifying sight to those who did not know him. But Terrwyn knew him—most likely, more than he knew himself.

"Salem," she replied, calmly, turning to face him. Her flowing white skirt brushed her ankles, causing her to twitch. Salem smiled, fondly.

"You might want to watch your twitching in England, darling sister. They may think you're some first rate nutcase." He crossed his arms over his broad chest. They were twins, yes, but their looks varied in very obvious ways. One, she was female. Two, she was thin and hourglass, whereas he was wide-shouldered and blocky. Three, she had inherited her mother's curly tresses, while he had inherited their father's waves. But other than that, they looked very much alike. They both shared the pale, freckled complexion of their father, and the nearly silver eyes of their mother.

"Do you think I'm a nutcase, darling elder brother?" she asked, fully expecting the answer. His eyes turned piercing and he shook his head.

"Of course not; you are the most brilliant witch I know, Teri. And I also know that your twitches are the product of your high sensitivity, due to a trauma in your youth—falling out of a tree, for example. And I know that your twitches are the reason you've never had a boyfriend because you're afraid that their touch will send your senses overboard." He shrugged. "And, as a final fact, I know that you never listen to me when I tell you that all you have to do is find a patient, gentle guy, and you have to let your senses relax around. He has to make your feel comfortable."

Teri rolled her eyes. "Salem, you are annoying as hell, you know that? And, furthermore, I fully believe that I was destined to be single forever."

Salem rolled his eyes in response. "You can't be single forever. Your inheritance depends on you marrying a man of the correct stature and blood."

She turned away. "You mean a pureblood. And, preferably, a Death Eater," she snarled, putting her fisted hands on her hips.

He trudged over to her, squashing at least 20 birds' nests that had the pleasure of being in his way. She cringed as he grabbed her shoulder, her muscles twitching intolerably. She squirmed in his grasp. "Why does it matter so much? It's the path you're destined for. You're going to be in Slytherin, as am I. That's unavoidable. And the only guys in Slytherin house are the sons of pureblood Death Eaters! That's unavoidable as well."

Teri whipped around, nearly spitting fire. She wrenched herself out of Salem's grip and stared at him. "I don't want that life. It's surrounded by death. I may be cunning, and deceitful, sly, and even pureblooded, but I am not a murderer. And I will not consent to being a murderer's trophy wife!"

Salem scoffed. "And what if you love him?"

"Then I will have my heart broken. Because a Death Eater never cares for anyone but their master, Salem—look at Mother and Father! They haven't slept in the same bed since we were little kids!" She stomped her foot angrily. "I will not have my love be made into a mockery!"

Salem smirked. "Then you'll just have to make sure the guy you marry doesn't become a Death Eater." Teri's eyes widened.

"Who, though?"

Salem shrugged. "Anyone; love can do strange things to people. And, you have two years to do it, so if it doesn't work with the first guy, obliviate him and try again."

Teri rolled her eyes once again. "You're so cruel, Salem. There are many other ways that boys get over mushy breakups—aka get another girlfriend; or two. It's not that hard."

Salem prodded her arm. "Hey! Are you insinuating that all males are perverted polygamists, who only care about a quick shag and not the deterioration of our hearts?"

She nodded. "Exactly," she said, matter-of-factly.

Suddenly, he smirked. "You'd be about right then." He shrugged. "But then again, there are those guys that only care about shags until they fall in love. Then they're helpless to their beloved's every whim."

Teri smiled. "That'll be helpful."

"Surely."

It was overly crowded as the Eldergoth limousine pulled into King's Cross Station. The populace was mostly groups of family members, with older children—the youngest being between 10 or 11. And this was how Terrwyn knew she had found the right place. She tapped her father's shoulder, who sat next to her. His head swiveled, his black hair sashaying around his face. He quirked an eyebrow, urging her to make her comment—she did: "Father, this is the place. I know for sure now."

"How, my dear?" he asked, fake curiosity coating his dark voice.

"Look at all the children. The youngest are at the ripe age of beginning Hogwarts. There are only a few families that have younger children, at least younger children only, and you can tell by their state of dress that they're muggles." Her father nodded and then tapped the window to the front of the limousine. The driver put it down and spoke.
"Yes, sir?" he asked, his voice raspy and refined.

"This is the place, Martin. Park somewhere close—I won't have my children hauling their luggage long distances like some breed of cattle," he replied, straightening his cloak clasp around his neck.

Terrwyn then turned to her mother. Her mother was dressed in deep green tones with a tan cloak draped over her shoulders. Terrwyn couldn't help but be proud that her mother could look so regal, even when she was so unhappy all the time.

Her mother's dark auburn curls cascaded to her waist and her huge amount of freckles only increased the evidence that the Eldergoth family was originally from Ireland. Terrwyn quietly asked her: "Do you know of any boys I might like here, Mother?"

Her mother's eyes widened. "Boys? I thought you weren't interested, darling?"

"I am now. I don't fancy not having my inheritance and school's as good as any place to find a suitable husband—someone to love…or at least tolerate." Her eyes were imploring. "Please, Mother—surely you've heard some gossip of children from your English acquaintances."

Her mother smiled. "Well, as a matter of fact, one of my dear friends has a son, your age, and currently single. And the gossip is that he's terribly handsome and possesses a gentlemanly nature, despite his father's horrible influence."

Terrwyn sighed. "A name, Mother?"

Her mother replied, her smile widening: "Draco Malfoy."

Teri nodded. "Malfoy—that'll be easy to remember—I don't think many people are named that in England. Not to mention, Draco's uncommon as well."

"His family has a bit of Italian influence," her mother supplied.

"Ah, that must be it," Teri breathed, sarcasm lacing her voice. "I meant that none of the English debutantes have that name, meaning he has no sisters."

"On the contrary," her mother chided. "He does have a sister. She's just not the debutante type. She's a year below you. Her name's Lucia—though recently she's gone by Luci, if what Narcissa told me is correct."

Teri leaned back in her seat, stretching very cat-like. "Who's this Narcissa you seem to like so much?" Teri questioned, pulling a red pear out of the mini cooler and biting into it delicately. "It sounds like you two are good friends."

"We are, Terrwyn. We have been since we were young. Her family used to vacation in Ireland every summer for four months. During that time, my mother let the three girls—Bella, Cissa and Andy—stay with us."

"Cissa? Andy? Those don't sound like very regal names. Were they purebloods?"

"Yes; both of their parents were Death Eaters as well. And their actual names were Bellatrix, Narcissa and Andromeda—three sisters that varied exponentially from one another."

Terrwyn glanced out the window and noticed the long line waiting to get into the parking. She crossed her legs and sighed. "Tell me about them, Mother."

"It's a long story, my darling."

"We have time."

Her mother nodded her head. "Well, Bellatrix was the darkest of the three. She had an olive complexion and thick black hair that flipped everywhere—and it matched her personality. She was vicious, terrorizing everything and everyone she could find; especially animals. She's Voldemort's right hand now."

She twiddled her fingers nervously. "Narcissa was the fairest of the three. She was pale and had thin blonde hair that was always kept in a coif on her head—she never liked getting it dirty. She was very straightforward and loved to take charge, but she never was very friendly to anyone but her friends. She was aloof to almost everyone and considered herself the best, though I think she once said that I tied with her."

She laughed lightly and began to braid a strand of her hair. "Then there was Andromeda. She was the middle child. She had thin dark hair and an average complexion and she always had it cut around her face—though she never resembled a boy. She was the nicest of the three and loved animals and people. She'd hug people on a whim and every day my mother would find a new creature lounging in Andromeda's suite. Once she had a niffler locked up in her closet. It nearly gave my mother a heart attack." Her expression softened. "Sadly, Andromeda was disowned because she married a muggle named Ted Tonks. They have a daughter now as well who's probably about 20 or so. Her name's Nymphadora."

Teri nodded. "Andromeda sounds like the best of the lot."

Her mother shook her head. "Narcissa was always my favorite. But, then again, maybe it was because I shared a room with her and we were about the same age."

"Why did you two share a room?"

Her mother laughed. "Because Cissa was afraid of the dark—so she never slept alone. When she was at her home, she always had her house elves sleep in her room. It bothered her mother, but it kept Cissa quiet."

Teri laughed. "Wow." Suddenly, the limousine jerked to a stop, causing both Salem and her father to curse wildly.

"Who in the bloody hell runs out in front of a car like that?" her father growled, prying open the door and sticking his head out. "What in the blazes are you doing, boy?"

The boy turned and Terrwyn was met with the sight of the most beautiful silver eyes she'd ever seen. She was transfixed. To her right, her mother let out a wail. "That's him! Oh, Vincent, don't kill him!"

Her father, Vincent, whipped around and stared at his wife. "He's who, Bronwyn? I don't recognize him at all!"

Terrwyn was still watching the boy—emotions crisscrossed his face as he tried to decide if he should stay or flee. She gave him a sympathetic look, eyeing her father out of the corner of her eye and nodded. His eyes widened but he nodded just the same.

Her mother wailed again. "That's Narcissa's son!"

The boy's face morphed into a smirk as he approached the car. And Terrwyn nearly fainted dead away as he stood over her father, still smirking. "May I help you? Did I offend you in any way?"

Vincent scowled. "You almost dented by hood, you Neanderthal." He pulled out his wand and slipped it into the front of his duster. "Where are your parents? It's very unlike Narcissa to leave one of her children unattended. Especially with your father in prison."

The boy, Draco, shrugged. "She's tending to Luci. She said I could go along and wait for her at the station." Terrwyn watched the lie drift through his eyes. She had a good perception of that. She crossed her arms.

"He's lying, Father."

Vincent gave his daughter an approving smile. "Thank you, my dear." He stared at the boy in front of him as Salem got out of the car and faced the blonde teen. "My daughter thinks you're lying, boy. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Draco gulped as Salem edged closer. "Okay, I'm lying. Mother's about a mile that way and she's being her clingy self. I had to get away. Luci covered my escape, saying that she'd forgotten something in the car."

Salem scowled. "Lying bunch of ingrates," he muttered.

Bronwyn's eyes widened. "Salem Anthony! Behave yourself!" she screeched, shaking her head. Salem winced.

"Sorry, Mother, but I am right."

By this time, Terrwyn was out of the car as well, carefully sizing up the boy before her. He was blonde, with a pale complexion, and stood about six feet tall, give or take an inch, against her 5'10". His pointed chin was raised in superiority, though his posture spoke of a cowardice that branched from loneliness. He was afraid of love and comfort, just as she was denied it. Her heart clenched painfully. "Good day, boy," she said, pleasantly. "I'm sorry if my family offended you."

His smirk left his face as he studied her. "Do I know you?" he pressured, raising an eyebrow. "Because I don't believe I do. I wouldn't forget someone like you."

Her eyes danced in anger. "What is that supposed to mean, you puffed up peacock?" she spat, "Are you insinuating, before even meeting me, that I'm some freak."

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, but if I was, you only would have proved my point. I actually was giving you a compliment, you stubborn cow." He crossed him arms, haughtily. "But maybe I should have stopped myself."

Teri scoffed. "It didn't sound like a compliment. You must learn to be more direct with your compliment, or else someone decidedly more dangerous than I could take offense." She lifted her chin.

"I only have to be direct with the Irish. They're too stubborn and dimwitted to understand poetic freedom." He said, smirking.

She quickly drew her wand, concealing it in her jacket sleeve and pointed it at his throat. "I know more spells than a Hogwarts graduate. It would serve you well to never insult me, my family, or my heritage ever again. Do you understand?"

He gulped. "Perfectly."

She smirked, watching the color drain from the already pale boy's face. "I'm glad we've come to an understanding."

Okay, so this is my first non Draco/Hermione fanfiction ever. It's about the lives of Draco and a character that I created for my own purposes so I do own her and her family. So ha! You can't use them! Ha ha….so yea R & R please.