THE STAR'S DYNASTY

UNFAMILIAR ROOM

The Moon's Muse

When icy water filled her lungs and blood hammered behind her eyelids, she felt as though air was being dragged out of her body. Her breaths were painfully short and excruciatingly painful. Helplessly, the girl's hand reached for the surface, but it was already too late. The moon appeared unaffected, as magnificent as it always had been, in spite of the loud thunder and lightning. The girl was happy that this moon would be her final sight before she passed away. This same moon—a glowing bluish white, loomed large, encircled by an ethereal glow; as it shrank from her sight, it grew brighter.

Rigel Lestrange experienced sharp pains in her temple. She tried to get up and move, but she was suddenly unable to do either. Her eyes squinted around the room as she heaved; it was a nightmare since she was back at the manor. Unconsciously, Rigel bent her fingers to loosen the excruciating rigidity. She was still wearing the same bandages on her body, which was now yellow from the medicines and in some places even red.

A portion of her room was illuminated by the moonlight's glitter. It wasn't a full moon, but it was still really bright. Every part of Rigel's body hurt so horribly that she struggled to sit up straight. She winced as she stared out the window at the lovely garden, where the sound of the rain on the glass made her pale image appear to be sobbing. It was elegantly choked by flowers of various colours on perfectly maintained shrubs, a wood fence covered in vines, and light purple flowers in the shape of stars. Fountain in the middle, with a stone statue of an angel with tiny wings holding a teapot that pours clean water into the fountain's bowl form. Rigel has likely never seen a garden as stunning.

Though it's been two months since Rigel has arrived at this manor, she was only aware consciously of the last three weeks. Rigel was uncertain of what was actually happening and confused as to whether it was a dream because everything around her was moving too slowly.

Rigel was likely aware of her surroundings the entire while she was still asleep. She could sense it, not precisely see it. When people bandaged up her wounds, and when some icky concoctions poured down her throat with such force that she wanted to slam a chair in their faces. Only if she could; nevertheless, the fact that she couldn't was fortunate for them. Voices that kept saying she couldn't live any longer and kept indicating numerous medical conditions that would cause her death – ruptured intestines, third-degree burn and broken bones; they also said she was supposed to die from the lung and kidney failure. But ironically enough, here she was. Rigel wasn't sure whether she should be grateful or not. She wanted to die; and for some logical reason, it wasn't possible for her to survive that night.

Someone would massage her hand, fingers ran through her hair; she was unconscious yet she could feel all of it. She does not, however, feel any better as a result. Rigel eventually opened her eyes after regaining consciousness one day, only to find herself in a strange room.

Compared to other rooms in that house, this room was worth five times larger than her old one. It smelled like newly polished wood and some recently gathered flowers and everything was arranged in its proper place. The bed and its plush mattress were ideally placed next to the window. A large wooden desk with a crimson-colored chair was to her right, and a built-in wall bookshelf was directly across from it. In front of the desk, the built-in wall bookshelf held a neat stack of old leather-bound books with their titles printed in large, black letters. On its left, a bulb burning gasoline was situated. A black ink bottle with a quill dipped in it was sitting beneath the lamp.

And until a woman who introduced herself as her aunt – a younger sister of her true mother introduced herself a moment after she woke up. Rigel might have addressed her as ‘Aunt Cissy,’ but she really intended to refer to her as a ‘jerk’. Not only her, everyone who was basically being hypocrite. Was welcoming Rigel back into the family really that simple? When she was literally on the verge of death after they had been ignoring her for years.

For no apparent reason, Rigel had asked about her parents' whereabouts; even she had grown to despise them. Nevertheless, Aunt Cissy claimed she was unsure. It was unknown. When Rigel and her brother Zenith Lestrange were only little kids, they abandoned them and vanished without a trace. What a coward.

In furthermore, Aunt Cissy explained her that this placement was different from the one she had previously called home. In this place, humans are able to do magic and other feats that muggles (non-magical folks) could not. Aunt Cissy didn't think it was a good thing when Rigel told her about all the peculiar things she had done. She seemed to be worried and fear it, as if Rigel has done some questionable crimes. If Aunt Cissy was about the same as her; Rigel reasoned, she wouldn't act in that manner.

“I can speak to snakes too. I can give them command if I want to. Is it normal to people like us – Aunt Cissy?”

From that moment Rigel swore she would never bring up that subject again to her. The thing was, her reaction wasn't welcoming at all. Rigel wasn't expecting anything as a turn, but Aunt Cissy’s face turned paler than usual and tear trinkled in her eyes. A fear precisely. Rigel wasn't guilty for that.

Singularity

“How are you doing, Rigel?”

Doctors, or they called healers here, were five in total, took care of her as long as she was in need of them.

“Spectacular to begin with.”

One of them, a late twenties female healer smiled dearly as she approached her with a new bandage. She signed to the two of male healers to go outside. When they were out of sight, she properly removed the old bandages, cleaning up her wounds and replaced it with a newly white one.

‘Carter’ as it said on her name tag; neither her or any of them introduce themselves. Carter somehow reminded Rigel of Ms. Wilkins. It's been a while since the last time Rigel met her.

“Hold your breath and swallow this,” a drink tasted cold minty and metallic, but she did feel better afterwards.

“How old are you, dear?”

“I’m ten years old.”

Carter regarded her with a smile.

“You are one strong girl. You are already... breathless by the time when we got here,” she sighed. “Just what kind of human who would do this to you?”

For a moment Rigel was deep in empty thought then, she shrugged. Monsters. Her small guess gave a silent answer. Carter brushed Rigel's hair neat, tied it back before packing her belongings and leave.

Just what kind of human who would do this to you?

It rang in her mind. Rigel used to wonder that too. But most of all, what had she done to deserve it? Was it entirely her fault? Rigel need to be reminded yet again of how pitiful she was for being unable to defend herself that she had to imagine blades tearing her skin bits to bits.

A walking stick sat on her side, perhaps for her convenience. Rigel couldn't help but felt a surge of humiliation imagining herself to ever use those. With difficulty, she summoned all her strength, pushing aside the pain until she finally stood on her feet. It wasn't long before a pain pounded in her head and she fell back onto the carpeted floor with a thud. Rigel groaned as the pain coursed through her body. Despite the agony, Rigel forced herself up, supported by one of the desk's leg and landed on the chair.

She stared at the many books in front of her. “Defense Against Dark Arts Magic Year 6.” Dark Arts. What a way to make a book soounded so intimidating.

Filled with curiosity, Rigel slid the book out from its place. With excitement, she flipped open the cover as her heart gave a thump reading the name of its past owner. ‘Bellatrix Black’. That's her mother. As far as she concerned, that's only what Aunt Cissy told her. And their sister, Andromeda Black, whose Rigel never saw her. She undoubtedly don't live in this manor.

Reading its contains, Rigel determined to know more about it. To her disadvantage, she only rummaged the whole bookshelf to find a book that actually talk about Dark Arts, but she couldn't find one. Absurd – how could people defense against something they don't understand? The whole book, roughly speaking – blindly teach about what to do against curses. If it was for her who used the dark magic, no spell would stand against it. But it was a school book, no wonder it was very... bland.

‘The Unforgivable Curses.’

“Eerie,” scoffed Rigel.

“Miss—” something called as she reflectively threw the book to the voice’s direction.

“Ouch,” it squeaked. Rigel managed not to yelled, but it was a close thing. Short, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Rigel figured it was an elf, like in the folk stories she used to read. However, this thing or person, in front of her successfully replaced it place as the most bizarre thing she had ever seen after those freaking men in the robes.

“Just what the hell...?” Before she could finished her sentence, the elf got up and with its body shaking it bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Rigel noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm- and leg-holes. She wants to know who in the world got this nasty sense of fashion but the creature said, “Dobby is very sorry miss!” in a high-pitched voice Rigel was sure would carry this whole place.

“Uh... Nevermind that. I'm the one who supposed to...” said Rigel, her voice faltered. She was still stunned with this elf called Dobby.

“Are you a maid by any chance?” suggested Rigel. The elf seemed to be stunned too.

“A servant, miss.”

“Ah, I see.... You wants me to give you some new clothes? To replace your old—” to her horror, the elf burst into tears, very noisy tears.

“New clothes!” he wailed. “Never ever... Never...”

“What did I do?”

“Dobby has never been offered by his master to have new clothes!” choked the elf. Rigel stared at the rag he's been wearing.

“You can't have met many wizards with decent fashion sense then,” whispered Rigel. The elf doesn't seem to hear.

“By the way, what's your importance here?” asked Rigel.

“Master called you for dinner, miss.”

“Oh, thank you. Off you go, and make sure after this, knock the door first, okay? If I didn't die from drowning, I will die from heart attack.”

The elf nodded in understanding and to her shock, it disappeared out of thin air.

“That bastard.”

It was the first night Rigel was able to had a dinner with the Malfoys at dining table just like her request. Usually, Aunt Cissy will send it to her room, or she would just simply skipped her meal when Aunt Cissy occasionally forgot that she was in the house too. Starving has always been her routine, so it wasn't really a big deal. Even Rigel would on the edge to murder people when she was very hungry.

Rigel watched the plate flying overhead magically and saw Aunt Cissy held something like a stick, a wand precisely.

“Where can I get that thing?” asked Rigel eagerly, pointed her finger to the wand. But instead of an answer, Aunt Cissy exchanged nervous look with Uncle Lucius. She hated it when they did that. It was like she just asked an instruction how to hang a person upside down.

“Finish your meal first okay?” Uncle Lucius tried to persuade her.

“You're not answering my question.”

Even Draco in his little kiddie chair watched her with his mouth wide open, perhaps Rigel raised her voice too much it surprised him. Uncle Lucius shifted in his seat uncomfortably and signed to his wife to answer her question.

“You can get yours at Ollivander's shop, Rigel – when you are old enough.” said Aunt Cissy.

Rigel sneered at her last reply. “Don’t treat me like an idiot only because I just got here,” Rigel blurted out. “I’m not stupid that I didn't know I only need three months before I am old enough to have one.” She added as the table fell silent.h

Whalien 52

When everyone was sure to be asleep, Rigel was wandering again around the house, looking for something useful. Dobby was nowhere, perhaps in the attic.

Speaking of attic, the upper part of this manor hadn't discovered yet by her. As Rigel descended the dusty stairs, she saw a rope jangling from the ceiling. Curious, she pulled the rope as a hatch opened right over her head and a ladder slid down to her feet. A pleasant cold breeze swept over her face along with the sound of trees rattle.

“Whoa...”

The place opened to a pavement rooftop. She walked closer to its edge, and Rigel took a seat, let her legs swaying happily. It reminded her of her favorite spot on a hill's edge.

The dark blue sky is wide open above her head while the forest looks like a carpet of artificial grass beneath her. Peaceful and calming here – apart from when she was drowning, she felt so calm now. As if she was far from human. The stars visible tonight, its light colored the sky. Beautiful, exactly like Rigel herself.