Dear Brother, Sweet Brother

Spoliers: From 6th book. Sorta.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter Related, really. You all should know what's 'harry potter' related, right? Right. I do when Aricia Malfoy, though– so back off.

Exta: Aricia, from Greek origin, meaning princess of the royal blood of Athens. Middle name Morgan... like Morgan le Fay.

Author's Note: This chapter is kind of like a prologue. But kind of not. It's... to set the scene, more or less. Give you some background on Aricia.


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Aricia Morgan Malfoy.

At the fresh age of twenty, Aricia Morgan Malfoy already felt as if she could already conquer the world. She had inherited her mother's beauty and ferocity to protect those she loved. From her father, Mr. Lucius Malfoy, wealth was already well established in her life. Pure blood running through her veins. From her father, she had also inherited loyalty to the powerful, respect to those that mattered– to the ones that didn't matter... why give them a second glance? Her wealth to be inherited was split in half with her baby brother. Sweet Draco.

The manor, Malfoy Manner, was under Draco's name in their parents' will, Aricia knew. She wasn't at all panicked though. There were always wealthy, pure-blooded, handsome young that were lined-up for Aricia. A complied list of them, infact. Every surname within the country, from clean, reliable descent, was on the list– if they had an unmarried son. When that perfect son was married off- the name vanished from the list. Her father and mother kept the list away from Aricia, locked away in a beautiful wooden chest in a beautiful, locked room. Though it may same as if her marriage plans were being planned without her– that was not happening. Her parents did have preferences of names, and even took the time to organize lavish dinner parties and balls, and they warmly introduced Aricia to the young man. If Aricia did not like the man... they sent him away as quickly as their could. Nothing was too good for the only daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

Her aunt, Bellatrix, also fawned over Aricia, feeding her silk words as she loomed around. Gifts were often showered upon Aricia, as her aunts and other family members would smile on. For the majority of her years, Aricia had lived with Bellatrix. It was just the easiest convinence. Before the letter of Hogwarts came by owlpost, was filling in paper after paper after paper for an all girls school hundreds of miles away from Hogwarts. Schooling at this particular school began at the blossoming age of ten and ended at the smirk-worthy age of eighteen. It was one of the best. They prided themselves of making the most out of a girl's mind... though how they did it wasn't really with all-smiling professors and kind words. Tolerance was low and punishment was severe. It helped the minds, all of the professors insisted. It had also built up a type of stone– an endurance stone.

The tolerance and punishment just added to a fun little game that girls tried to play on eachother: Getting away with as much as you could... and if caught, brushing the blame off to others around. It might seem as if these girls were cruel to eachother, but that wasn't the case. If a girl had brushed the blame to you– you'd just do it right back, call it even, and laugh together about it, exchanging the punishment stories. It was like a life lesson. It was survival... and if it wasn't survival, it was taking as many people as possible down with you. Though it had never been admitted, it was guessed that all of the professors knew that this was happening. It was just another lesson, though. Another way of getting the most out of a girl's mind. A way to sharpen their minds. To keep them on their toes for life.

Aricia had made herself well known at the school ever since she entered. The ten year old girl had stuck out of the wave of girls with her pure silvered-gold hair which flowed to her waist. Her silver eyes always seemed calmed and collect- and yet vigilant and in-control. At the time, there had been some of the baby's fat still sweetly sticking to her bones. It hadn't made her self-consious. It was too young of an age to start to care. Besides, the broad smile with the chubby cheeks had always been able to win over the hearts of her elders. A twelve year old did not seem to think too fondly of it though, and yet proded her with a few words. She was only ten, but she already felt the surge of anger and boiling blood. Offense to Aricia had came quickly and with a lash... her parents had always reminded her to stand up for herself and be proud of who she was. The Malfoy princess like they had treated her. Without a second thought, Aricia had turned her heel, raised her wand, and shouted a hex. Immeditly the girl's face broke out in ugly boils, which resulted in a shrill scream from her as she looked in the reflection of a trophy case. It had earned Aricia a few glares, a few eye-rolls, but... admiration as well. A few older students were surprised that a ten year old could handle herself well, the other girls her age were amazed the she knew exactly what she was doing.

For that first year of Winter Holidays Break, Aricia came home to boast to her prideful parents of her excellent grades, how she was a favorite of professors, of how she had beaten out older girls in late-night duels. Her parents had to leave though, Christmas shopping, so she ran to her seven year old brother. His chubby, pale face grew into a grin as he saw his sister bounding down one of the highly furnished halls towards his room. At reaching him, she threw her arms around home, holding him close, giving him squeezing hugs. "I missed you, Draco!" Aricia would tell him happily as they pulled away from eachother. "I missed you, too!" The young Draco would eagerly reply. Aricia told Draco to close his eyes, not to peak, as she pulled out a gift for him. It had been a small magic-carpet, though they were outlawed, of which only hovered a foot or two off of the floor. And for the rest of the time that their parents were busy, Aricia and Draco would always spend their time together... Actually, that's how it had been for the following years, as well.

But now, two years after the schooling had been finished, Aricia was without her precious Draco. The Manor was in gloom. Her mother seemed to always cry, sob, or have that lost, distant look in her beautiful eyes. Her father was in Azkaban. Draco was on the run. The wizarding world was in a brutual war. The muggle world was becoming involved in it as well– they could no longer deny the existence of magic as easily as they once had.

Malfoy Manoy would receive a small piece of parchment scribbles from him every so often. A small piece with few words. Not enough to provide any amount of comfort.

Sweet Draco. Previous Draco. Her baby brother was on the run.


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