Temptation

As Cassiopeia quickened her pace to match Draco's, she couldn't shake off the tension hanging in the air like a heavy cloak. It was as if they were competing in a silent race of who could avoid conversation the longest. With each step, she hoped the distance between them would bridge the unspoken gap, yet it seemed to widen instead. Though she often didn't mind the silence between them, she found herself wondering at times. When did they become so distant? What was the turning point in their relationship?

Since he had not mentioned anything about last night, Cassiopeia finally put her worries about Theo snitching to rest.

But then, like a scene from a scripted play, Lucius and Narcissa emerged at the exit, statuesque and composed, their presence commanding attention. Narcissa's eyes softened at the sight of her children, a silent reassurance in her gaze. Meanwhile, Lucius remained the epitome of sternness, his demeanor unchanged, as if etched in stone.

Cassiopeia couldn't help but wonder if Lucius had taken lessons in stoicism from the very walls of Malfoy Manor or was it that he was the one who taught them.

"My darlings..." Narcissa's voice was a delicate whisper, laced with affection as she addressed her children. Her gaze lingered on them as if silently assessing their well-being and appearance. Cassiopeia felt a flicker of warmth at her mother's gaze, but it was fleeting, overshadowed by the weight of the unspoken tension between them. "Shall we?" Narcissa's question hung in the air, carrying with it the anticipation of the evening ahead.

Draco's nod was resolute, while Cassiopeia's smile wavered uncertainly before settling into place.

Narcissa linked her arm through Lucius', a silent gesture of unity, before leading the way towards the waiting carriage. It was a mere formality, a means to reach the apparition point beyond the Hogwarts grounds.

Lucius, ever the gentleman, assisted Narcissa into the carriage with a tenderness that belied his stoic exterior, one that he only held around her, and her only. Cassiopeia watched silently as her brother followed suit, their father's presence a silent reminder of the expectations that hung over them like a dark cloud.

As Cassiopeia settled into her seat, she murmured a barely audible "Thank you..." to her father, the words lost in the quiet hum of the evening air. Draco joined them, and with a final glance exchanged between the family members, they set off towards their destination, each lost in their own thoughts amidst the silence of the carriage ride.

As the Malfoy family arrived at the apparition point, Cassiopeia felt a sense of familiarity wash over her. She knew exactly where they were headed – a wizarding restaurant in Paris, renowned for its elegant ambiance and exquisite cuisine. The view of the Eiffel Tower from their usual table was simply breathtaking.

They have visited the restaurant countless times, so it was no surprise the seating host immediately recognized the family. He greeted them with a warm smile, his calm voice blending seamlessly with the soothing music in the background. "Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, welcome. Follow me, please, your usual table. The waiter will be with you shortly." The restaurant was regularly frequented by famous British wizarding families, so it was expected that the staff spoke English. However, when it came to the Malofys, they had the luxury of choosing which language to speak, as each member of the family was fluent in French.

Taking their robes, the host led them to their secluded table in the back, away from prying eyes. Cassiopeia couldn't help but notice the subtle glances directed their way – a reminder of their prominent status in the wizarding world.

As they settled into their seats, the atmosphere was filled with an air of anticipation. Without much conversation, they turned their attention to the menu, focusing first on the drinks selection.

A waiter, impeccably dressed like the others, approached their table with a polite greeting. "Good evening, how can I get you started?“

There was a brief pause before Lucius took the lead, ordering a bottle of wine with a subtle glance at his children. Cassiopeia sensed the unspoken message – they were finally deemed old enough to join in the family tradition of wine with dinner.

The wine arrived, and poured into their glasses with a flick of the waiter's wand, marking the official start of their dinner. Cassiopeia couldn't help but feel a sense of privilege at being included in this ritual, a fleeting moment of unity amidst the complexities of their family dynamics.

Each of them took one last glance at the food side of the menu, silently deliberating their choices for when the waiter returned. The silence lingered, a palpable presence at the table. Now that both Draco and Cassiopeia had reached the age of wine and dinner, it seemed questionable if the adult family conversations would follow. However, Cassiopeia appeared slightly unprepared for this shift, while Draco exuded an air of composure, as though he had anticipated this moment.

"How is school?" Narcissa finally broke the thick barrier of silence that nestled between the family members. Her gaze lingered on Draco, granting him the honor of answering first as the elder sibling. Draco's expression remained unchanged, though his voice softened slightly. This was not surprising to Cassiopeia; she couldn't recall a time when Draco spoke to their mother in any other manner. Their connection had remained unchanged over the years.

"It is fine, Mother. We're only a week in," Draco replied, his posture composed, his eyes locked on Narcissa.

Cassiopeia contemplated her response as her mother's attention shifted toward her. She had spent much of her time acquainting herself with the castle and reconnecting with her childhood friend, nothing particularly noteworthy to mention.

"Cassiopeia?" Her mother's voice jolted her back to the present, and she raised her eyes to meet the gaze of the darker blonde witch before her. Narcissa regarded her with curiosity, awaiting an answer that Cassiopeia had only seconds to conjure. Fortunately, the next question provided her with an opportunity to offer a response that would likely please her mother. "Have you settled in, dear?"

"Yes, I have. Hogwarts has yet to disappoint me," Cassiopeia replied evenly, her voice a steady line. She offered a pleased smile, which her mother graciously accepted.

"And what about friends? If I remember correctly, one of the Greengrass sisters is your age?" Narcissa inquired, clearly well-informed. Cassiopeia wasn't surprised; her mother's frequent tea gatherings with other pureblood wives often served as platforms for gossip. When it came to the wizarding society, Narcissa was sure not to miss the latest news.

"Yes, Astoria Greengrass. I share the dorm with her. We found each other quite familiar," Cassiopeia replied, carefully choosing her words. Astoria, in her parents' eyes, was the epitome of the ideal friend for Cassiopeia. She checked all the boxes: pureblood lineage, from a prestigious and esteemed family, excelling in her studies with a flawless record. Something that some of her previous friends hadn't come close to. It made her mother smile.

"That's lovely! How are your friends, Draco?" Narcissa's attention shifted back to her son, a question Cassiopeia was all too familiar with. She had heard it countless times over dinners at Malfoy Manor after returning from France. Her mother adored Draco's friends, likely for the same reasons she admired Astoria. Draco excelled in something Cassiopeia struggled with—his friends met their parents' expectations perfectly. Most of them came from esteemed families, were well-connected within the sacred 28, and held prominent positions in the wizarding world, cementing their status at the top of the social pyramid.

"They're good, as always," Draco replied, his tone carrying a hint of indifference. He made no mention of Mattheo's greeting, as expected. Such greetings were often meant to irk Draco, a game Mattheo seemed to enjoy playing.

As the waiter reappeared to take their orders once more, a brief silence settled over the table. After the waiter departed, their father interjected into the conversation.

"I'm hoping I won't have to clean up your mess in Hogwarts too, Cassiopeia," he remarked, his tone carrying a weight of implication. It was a veiled question, intended to draw her attention back to her past actions at Beauxbatons. Cassiopeia met her father's gaze, maintaining a polite smile that masked her inner thoughts. She had anticipated such inquiries tonight and had prepared her response.

"I assure you, Father, there will be no such issues repeated," she replied calmly, careful not to show any signs of defiance. Despite her inner reservations, she understood the importance of respecting her father, even when she disagreed with him. That was simply the expectation placed upon her as his daughter.

"Good. I'm expecting you to excel in your studies," Lucius continued, his expectations clear as always. It was a standard that came with bearing the name Malfoy—a legacy of high achievements and unyielding standards. Cassiopeia understood this implicitly, knowing that she too would be held to the same rigorous standards, now more than ever with Astoria as a close rival in academic pursuits. She felt a pang of sympathy for Draco, knowing that he had too faced this pressure since his first year at Hogwarts. Turning to Draco, Lucius raised the familiar topic once again, his gaze expectant. "Like your brother, right Draco?" The unspoken comparison to the muggle-born witch Granger, the top student in their year, hung heavily in the air. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Granger wasn't a muggle-born, which by default made her less deserving of the title of a witch than any pure-blood. It wasn't like he wasn't giving all of himself, he did, and that's what made it sad. However much he tried he was always second to her, and that was a problem in Lucius' eyes. Cassiopeia could see the weariness in Draco's expression, the weight of constantly being second-best taking its toll.

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding his father's gaze as the conversation replayed like a broken record. Cassiopeia felt a twinge of empathy for her brother as she watched him struggle under their father's expectations. Finally, after a moment of unbearable silence, Draco met Lucius's eyes, his expression resigned. "Yes, Father," he replied quietly, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. It was a response laced with resignation, a silent acknowledgment of the relentless pressure he faced to measure up to an impossible standard.

As the silence enveloped the room, Cassiopeia's gaze fixed itself ahead, caught in a moment of contemplation. She found herself pondering whether this pervasive quietude was the perennial state of their family dynamics. Was it always like this? She struggled to recall the last instance she had regarded her father with genuine admiration and affection. Undoubtedly, she still loved him; Lucius was, after all, her father, and an enduring affection lingered within her. However, expressing this sentiment had grown arduous over time, as he seemed incapable of providing her with the emotional connections she yearned for. She couldn't help but wonder if the cherished aspects of him from her childhood had dissipated if the tender father who once delighted in showering her with affection and gifts had vanished into the abyss of passing years. That Lucius existed now only as a distant memory, a relic of bygone days lost to the relentless march of time.

As the food materialized on the table, the oppressive silence persisted, each family member hesitant to shatter it. Cassiopeia pondered whether there existed any words or actions capable of alleviating the discomfort of the dinner table. Ultimately, she resigned herself to the ongoing silence, recognizing that any attempt to interject might only exacerbate the tension. Patience seemed the only recourse, acknowledging that healing required time. But how much time? Would the atmosphere thaw by the next family gathering, or perhaps not until the holidays? Uncertainty loomed over them like a heavy cloud, casting doubt on when, or if, normalcy would return.

The magically prepared food tasted exquisite, as it always did in France. Yet, despite the culinary delight, Cassiopeia couldn't shake off the sensation of trespassing. Although far from Beauxbatons, the familiar ambiance of France stirred conflicting emotions within her. She had frequented this country countless times before her time at Beauxbatons, and its unchanged beauty was a constant in her life. However, returning after leaving the school felt disconcerting. Suddenly, she no longer felt the warmth of welcome she once experienced, a feeling she knew was irrational considering her peaceful departure and the enduring presence of her old friends in her life. Despite this, an inexplicable unease settled in her chest.

Snapping out of her reverie, Cassiopeia redirected her attention to the silent dinner unfolding before her. A quick glance from Narcissa conveyed an inscrutable message, leaving Cassiopeia perplexed. As the conversation tentatively resumed, it became apparent that it served only to fill the uncomfortable void of silence, devoid of genuine connection. Superficial questions hung in the air like a thin veil, shrouding the table in an aura of detached politeness. Despite sitting among family, the atmosphere felt strained, as if they were mere acquaintances exchanging polite inquiries rather than blood relatives sharing a meal.

The wine on Cassiopeia's palate carried a bitter-sweet taste, a departure from the pleasurable indulgence it had been on countless occasions before. Rather than feeling like a reward, it now resembled a symbolic initiation into adulthood, tinged with a hint of punishment. As she swirled the liquid in her glass, her parents observed her discreetly, attempting to conceal their scrutiny as she feigned the demeanor of someone experiencing the taste for the first time.

The strained atmosphere weighed heavily on Cassiopeia as dessert remained nearly untouched, her mother's reminders of politeness echoing in her mind. As Lucius announced the end of the dinner, she couldn't shake the sense of sorrow for what their family had become. Despite the rain having ceased, the tension lingered in the air like a palpable force.

Once outside, they parted ways at the apparition point, Lucius and Narcissa heading to Malfoy Manor while Draco and Cassiopeia made their way to Diagon Alley. Narcissa's final admonition hung in the air: „I will expect a response to my letters!“ A moment passed before she added: „Now, good night, take care of your sister Draco!“. Cassiopeia fought the urge to roll her eyes, but it seemed futile.

As they prepared to apparate, Cassiopeia stepped closer to Draco, acknowledging the safety of his apparition compared to her own. "Goodnight, Mother, Father," Draco said curtly, to which Cassiopeia echoed softly, "Goodnight."

Draco's silence often reminded Cassiopeia of their father, though she refrained from commenting on the resemblance. She didn't believe a few details were enough to compare the two.

As the carriage came to a stop in front of the castle, Draco alighted first. She noticed the subtle flinch as he debated offering her a hand, but he ultimately chose silence, extending his hand silently. Cassiopeia understood and accepted it without resentment.

For a fleeting moment, she considered asking him if he was alright, sensing the weight of the dinner on him, but opted for continued silence instead. It had been a while since they engaged in anything beyond superficial chit-chat.

Their footsteps echoed through the towering walls of the castle. Cassiopeia no longer attempted to match Draco's long strides, content to lag behind in the dimly lit corridors. As they descended into the Dungeons, the darkness obscured her view of her brother, reducing him to a distant silhouette. She followed his lead, disappearing into the shadows. Ultimately, she lost sight of him when he turned towards the boys' dormitories.