NOTE: The 11th Volume is unique in that it was the purest Drama I had ever written. Schemes, Manipulations, Schemes under Schemes, and unsaid Hints behind Manipulations... It had all. It was also the only Volume which was focused solely on Darcie Malfoy while simultaneously laying a solid foundation for Kai's plans in the upcoming volumes.
The reason why I am writing this Note should be obvious by now. With the Webnovel's readerbase, it might not appeal to some.
So, if you, at any point, would like to drop the novel, you are welcome to do so. If you don't have trust in the fanfic, with everything that has already happened in the last 10 volumes, then I have no intention in keeping such readers by explaining them the stuff that's gonna happen in the future volumes also.
Anyway, I will try to up by publishing rate with this Volume, but only if I am not writing brand new chapters on Patre0n for the revamped version. The 11th volume will be finished in 2-3 days on Patre0n, if anyone's interested to read it one go.
Good luck.
droopyauthor
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Chapter Begins:
Saturday, 21 June 1986
06:30 am
"A girl should show more delicacy, Darcie," Narcissa said, breathing down her neck as she picked up the brush. "Do you have to play with Draco on brooms daily? It's not like you have any interest in Quidditch."
Darcie looked into the mirror and at her mother standing behind her, brushing her long hair. She had yet to learn the reason for this sudden intrusion. Her mother did attend to her now and then, but not this early in the morning.
After a few more minutes of silence, Darcie got to know what she was waiting for.
"Millicent Bagnold will have dinner with us tomorrow," Narcissa said, pausing, and looking thoughtful. "She must not see you in such an unrefined state."
"The Minister of Magic?" Darcie reflected. "Will there be a party, mother?"
"No." Narcissa made her stand up, looked at her up and down, and nodded to herself. "It's some private thing between your father and her," she told her. "Just try not to be too reserved around her, OK?"
Darcie didn't know what to say.
Narcissa sighed. "Come here, love," she said, taking her to bed, and making her sit beside her. "You are spending a great deal of time with that Greengrass girl these days…"
Darcie felt confused. "Aren't the Greengrasses a pure-blood family?" she asked, her confusion apparent on her face. "They are also a part of Sacred Twenty-Eight like us, aren't they?"
Her mother looked troubled. "They are, Darcie," she said, her eyes becoming hard. "But not all pure-blood families are the same. And the Greengrasses — Well, few of our kind favor them."
"Is it because of their views regarding muggles, mother?" Darcie asked.
Narcissa looked shocked. Now, a pained expression washed over her face like a tide.
She ran her hand over Darcie's head and said, "Sometimes I think you are growing too fast. Yes, love. Because of their muggle views. I am not saying you should distance yourself from Rachel's daughter. Just spend some time with other children as well. What about Parkinson's daughter…"
"Pansy?"
"Yes, that one," Narcissa nodded. "I know you two are not exactly of the same pot, but no harm in experiencing a change of scenery. Perhaps you may come to like her too, right?"
Darcie won't. She would never come to like someone like Pansy. She knew it, her mother knew it, and even her brother and father knew it.
But the books had taught Darcie too much for her not to see the implications behind this request.
Just a few days ago, she had heard her parents whisper about a political position that was in Parkinsons' control by happenstance.
"I will try, mother," Darcie said. "How about inviting them to brunch on Tuesday next week?"
Narcissa beamed. She leaned and kissed her on the forehead. "Of course," she told Darcie. "Let's go, now. I am hearing Draco's shouts even from here. What spell did you put on him, anyway? He never waited before having breakfast without you."
Her mother seemed pleased with her decision, Darcie reasoned. Perhaps it was the right time to ask about that.
"Mother," Darcie mumbled, as they crossed the gallery, and entered the Dining room, "may I have your wand this afternoon to practice some basic spells?"
Narcissa's head snapped down towards her.
Even among family members, sharing wands wasn't a common practice. Not to mention, children had no particular Control over their Magic and did not know what kind of Spell they would perform unknowingly, resulting in some irreversible actions.
Darcie's request was too absurd to even consider.
But her timing was impeccable.
"OK," Narcissa said reluctantly. "But only in my presence. Just let me know before you need it."
Darcie took a deep breath, smiled, arching her lips as high as permitted by her reservedness, and nodded. "I will be more than happy to have you beside me, mother," she said, as Draco looked at them oddly. "Draco can join us, too."
"For what?" her brother asked suspiciously.
Darcie helped herself to a sip of pumpkin juice. She put the cup down and found her brother's head still moving from her to her mother, anxiously.
"No!" Draco suddenly blurted, shocking Narcissa. "I will not have etiquette and dancing lessons anymore! I hate them!"
Their mother laughed.
Darcie looked at her mother, and couldn't help but think that perhaps she should advise Draco to not spend too much time with those brutes, Crab and Goyle, either.
Today's morning was bound to be noisy.
*
*
It was a windy afternoon, so Darcie, Draco, and her mother had instead come down to the suitcase-cum-library.
Narcissa was sitting on a couch with the latest copy of Witch Weekly in her hands. Draco was engrossed in a far corner with Seeker Weekly, the only thing he took an interest in reading, or seeing the pictures within it.
Darcie closed the book on charms, repeated her theories to herself, and made up her mind. "Mother," she said, approaching the couch. "May I have it now?"
Draco looked over, and when he saw Darcie approaching their mother, he came running to them.
Narcissa held her wand and handed it over to Darcie handle-first. "Now, you must be extra careful, Darcie," she said sternly. "When I say stop, it means to drop the wand, back away, and not speak a word. Am I clear?"
Darcie nodded.
She gripped the wand and felt the smoothness of its exquisite handle. It wasn't the first time she was seeing it. Nor was it her first time holding it. But it was indeed the first time for her to have it, intending to use it.
"The wood is Holly," Narcissa said, introducing the wand. "Its core is Dragon Heartstring. 11 inches and quite flexible. That's how it was introduced to me. Seems like it was just yesterday…"
Darcie heard her mother and took a few steps back.
To say she could feel nothing extraordinary would be wrong. There was a slight prickling on her palm where the wood was touching her hand.
The wand welcomed her but with a mother's affection, not a friend's. It didn't feel like a part of her existence, as described in books to Darcie.
More like something that just didn't reject her.
"Remember, Darcie," her mother guided her. "Speak loudly and clearly. Keep your hand steady and —"
Narcissa's words got caught in her throat.
A brilliant burst of white light exploded from the tip of Darcie's wand, illuminating the furthest corners.
Draco squinted his eyes, and Narcissa stood up in stunned silence.
Darcie flicked her wand, cutting off the magic. Now she repeated the same words as before to herself.
Specific…
Belief…
Intention…
Her Magic tore its way through the wand, and she pointed it at the table between her and her mother. The table immediately softened as if it were made of jelly, not wood. Its leg shook, and the books placed over it made a deep depression.
This was just the beginning.
Darcie seemed to have stumbled upon something. It just seemed a hair's breadth away from her fingers. Here lay some hidden aspects of wands and pure raw magic.
Something elusive. Yes, she must practice more.
Darcie flung her arm in a wide arc and pointed it towards the roof, and a blue-red ball of fire burst out of the wand's tip the size of an adult's head.
"Darcie, stop!"
Darcie's eyes narrowed. But her fingers uncurled themselves, dropping the beautiful tool on the carpeted floor. She stepped back and looked over at her mother. Draco was behind the couch, his mouth opened wide, and his face pale.
Her mother showed the same paleness, and, if Darcie wasn't wrong, a touch of fear in her blue eyes.
The blue-red fireball over their heads was still burning with unmatched brilliance.
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