Title: Familial Pretensions
Author: Madraykin
Rating: R-ish I think. Language, situation, eating disorders and possible self-mutilation (non-graphic).
Summary: A new girl appears and a certain Slytherin prince finds himself strangely fixated on her. Warnings: Language, situation, eating disorders and possible self-mutilation (non-graphic)
Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Not me. I'm just playing.
A/N: I originally meant for this to be a one-part story, but the beginning rather ran away with me. So now I'm thinking maybe 2 or 3 chapters if people like it. Lame title, I'm sorry. Please review, this is only my second fic and I crave feedback in order to improve.
A/N 2: this has now been edited. Much thanks to Niuserre for beta-ing


Seraphine de Mort.

At first he had just thought that her parents must've had a strange sense of humour. But as he looks up her family in the library after the welcoming feast he discovers that her fathers name was Theodonias, and that after her marriage to him her mother had changed her name to Exousia. He surmises that it is a family tradition. He does wonder why they seem to have a varied the tradition slightly for her, but resigns himself to never knowing as he knows he will not ask her.

In his research into her family he has also discovered that she is both pureblooded and noble. However, he finds that her family took no side in the war with Voldemort, which was not uncommon amongst the French as his sphere of influence was mostly concentrated on Britain. Nevertheless the de Mort's are undoubtedly a 'dark' family.

He cherishes this knowledge, as he knows that it allows him to approach her without fearing his father's wrath.

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It is morning and he is back at the Slytherin table. He is waiting for her to put in an appearance.

As he waits, he abstractly eats his breakfast. It is only when he finishes and sees the rest of the school rise to head to their classes that he realises that she has still not arrived. He imagines that she must have overslept as he can think of no other reason to miss breakfast. He makes a silent vow to himself to try again at lunch and stands to follow his classmates.

He reaches the Arithmancy classroom and is surprised to see that she is already sitting there at the back of the room. He moves towards her, intending to say hello but the professor enters the room and he is forced to take a seat at the desk next to her without uttering a word.

He quickly becomes bored with the lesson and lets his mind drift. He watches her, glad that although he did not get to talk to her he still managed to sit near her. He looks at her out of the corner of his eye. He notices that she is still wearing those gloves, although they could just look the same as the other ones, and those boots. He also notices that while her face and eyes are turned towards the professor in an attempt to look like she is paying attention, she is not taking any notes and her eyes have a slight glazed quality that he recognises from dinner parties and balls.

He knows that there is a type of witch one marries, a type one flirts with and a type one uses for…more physical activities. He almost blushes as the final 'type' enters his mind. He knows that he has a reputation, but he is also privy to the knowledge that a high percentage of the stories that the girls whisper to each other aren't true.

He lets his eyes flick back to her face. She is still sitting in exactly the manner, the same expression on her face.

He decides that she is very well bred. And that his mother would love her. She is perfect. And he knows that she would be a wonderful Mrs Malfoy Jr.

Fuck. He wishes his thoughts wouldn't run away with him like that. Because now he's had the thought he knows that he'll keep on thinking about it. And really it isn't something he should be thinking about. Because persons of his station marry whom their parents select and not those who they consider to be lovely. And then he curses silently in his head because he used that word again.

He takes a moment to sneak a closer look at her face. Last night he had only seen her from a distance and he wants, no, needs confirmation that he was right.

He almost sighs in relief when his eyes show him that seeing her close to is just as good as watching her from far away. He observes that her cheekbones really are quite sharp, and that her cheeks look hollow. He thinks this is a bit odd because none of the other girls have this look, but then he remembers seeing it on the faces of his mother's friends, so he imagines that it is merely another thing that makes her suitable.

He wonders why he keeps coming back to that thought. He isn't even 16 yet, and all though they will expect him to be married by the time he is 21 that is just over 5 years away and he really doesn't need to think about it yet. But they do keep parading 'suitable' girls in front of him when he is at home, so he wonders of maybe he should actually be thinking about it after all. After all, his father always tells him that he should be prepared. Though he isn't entirely sure what he should be prepared for exactly, he considers the possibility that his father's comment is a statement that covers all areas of life.

A flash of movement catches his eye and he perceives that her gloves hands are fluttering slightly as though she wants to fidget but is repressing the urge. He notices that her wrists seem impossibly thin and fragile. He wonders if under her robe the rest of her is just as delicate and breakable.

He comes to with a start as chairs scrape back and students stand up in order to go to their next class.

Once they enter the corridor he loses her in the crowd, but silently renews his vow to talk to her at lunch.

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He is perturbed when she doesn't turn up for lunch. He muses on where she might be, and wonders why she has missed both meals so far today.

As lunch ends he sighs inwardly and updates his vow to state that he will talk to her at dinner. Because he can think of no reason why she should not be at dinner as everyone puts in an appearance at dinner.


End note: I'm still not too sure about the present tense. I think that this chapter is clumsy. Verdicts? Criticisms?

For anyone who doesn't understand the thing with the names: Seraphine means Angel and both Theodonias and Exousia are angels.

Thanks to Catmint for being my first reviewer.