First Signs of a Magical Future
The morning started off with a familiar thrill in the air. I could tell by the way Draco kept looking at me across the breakfast table that he was plotting something, his blue-grey eyes lit with an unusual amount of mischief. It wasn’t just his typical everyday troublemaking, either—this was something different, something he could barely contain. I felt it too, that odd little buzz at the back of my mind, like Draco’s excitement was reaching out to me through some invisible thread.
When Mother excused herself to fetch another cup of tea, Draco seized his chance. “Come on, Ursa!” he whispered urgently, sliding out of his chair and darting to my side, grabbing my hand with a wide grin.
I didn’t know exactly what he had in mind, but I could feel the thrill of it humming between us. I let him lead me into the drawing room, and the moment we were alone, he turned to me, looking fit to burst with excitement. “I can do magic!” he announced in a loud whisper, his whole face lit with pride.
I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow at him, silently asking, What kind?
Instead of answering, Draco closed his eyes, scrunching up his face with the sort of dramatic intensity only a five-year-old could pull off. I watched, half doubtful, until—suddenly—one of the small throw pillows lifted a few inches off the sofa. My eyes widened as I watched it float, wobbling slightly in the air. Draco grinned at me, clearly delighted with himself, and I couldn’t help but clap silently, impressed by his little display.
Then, spurred on by my reaction, he tried again, this time pointing at a small footstool by the fireplace. He wiggled his fingers with a flourish, and the stool actually lifted a few inches off the floor before plopping back down with a soft thud. I shot him a smile, signing “good,” and his face beamed with pride.
But, as usual, Draco got a little too confident. He turned his gaze to the tall, delicate vase on the mantelpiece—the one Mother prized so highly. I tried to signal to him, waving my hands a bit frantically to say not that, but he was already concentrating, his little face scrunched up with determination.
The vase wobbled dangerously, teetering at the edge of the mantel, and I felt a surge of panic as I reached out instinctively. My hand tightened, and suddenly, almost without thinking, I focused on the vase, willing it to stop. It froze mid-tumble, suspended in the air for a moment before I managed to guide it back to the mantel, setting it down gently.
We looked at each other, eyes wide, our silent connection buzzing with excitement. I could feel his glee and pride pulsing in my own chest.
Our shared joy, however, was cut short by the sound of the drawing room door opening. We spun around, and there stood Mother and Father, both staring at us, their gazes fixed on the vase we’d nearly knocked over.
Mother’s eyes went wide, and she clutched a hand to her mouth. “Lucius,” she whispered, turning to Father with a look of astonishment, “they’ve done it. They’ve shown their first magic!”
Father’s usual stoic mask slipped, replaced by an unmistakable look of pride and amazement. His lips curved in a small smile, and he gave us a nod, his gaze lingering on me with a newfound gleam in his eyes. “Indeed,” he murmured, his tone reverent. “Our children are truly gifted.”
Mother’s face broke into a delighted smile as she knelt down, reaching for Draco and me with open arms. “Oh, my darlings!” she exclaimed, her voice full of pride and warmth. “You’re both so talented. And so young—such magic at only five!”
Draco, clearly loving the attention, puffed out his chest and announced, “We did it together, Mother. Ursa helped.” He looked over at me, his eyes shining with pride, and I couldn’t help but give a little smile back.
Mother’s gaze softened as she took my hand, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re both wonderful, my loves,” she said, her voice full of warmth. Then, she glanced over her shoulder at Father, her eyes bright with an idea. “Lucius… they could attend the Yule Ball this year, couldn’t they? With their first magic displayed, they’re certainly ready.”
Father’s smile grew, and he nodded, a proud gleam in his eye. “Yes, they are. I think it’s time they attend the Malfoy Yule Ball,” he agreed, his voice filled with pride. “It will be their grand debut.”
Draco’s face lit up with excitement, his eyes widening at the mention of the ball. “Really?” he squeaked, his voice high with delight. “A real ball?”
Mother laughed, ruffling his hair. “Yes, Draco. A real ball. And you, Ursa,” she said, looking at me with a soft, adoring smile, “you’ll look so lovely. The perfect little lady.”
I gave her a shy smile, feeling warmth in my chest as I signed a simple, “Yes,” unable to contain the excitement building up inside me.
Father reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder, his expression softened in a way I rarely saw. “You both make us very proud,” he said quietly, his voice full of admiration.
Draco leaned close to me, his excitement practically vibrating through our twin bond. “We’re going to a ball!” he whispered, barely able to contain his joy.
And as I looked around, seeing Mother and Father’s faces filled with pride, I felt the same joy swelling inside me. We’d made them proud, and I couldn’t wait to see what else this life would bring.