Celestia Eleanor Young is the newest generation of the Pure-blood Young family of Singapore. The Young Clan has the power of a monarchy and the wealth of a first-world country.
Not only does she have to prove herself to her family that she's capable...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▪️⬜️▪️
Daphne and I were heading to breakfast to meet the boys early in the morning. We all were particularly excited for our Broom Flight Class. I was ranting to her of the fact that the school won't provide new robes unless it was severely damaged beyond recognition.
"I might as well just burn it up in flames right this second like Blaise had advised, because my anger level is at an 8." I channel my composure when we enter the Great Hall. Not many people were here yet.
"On second thought," she leans into my ear and whispers with spitefulness, "raise it to a 10 because that prat Parkinson is sitting where you usually sit."
I follow her eyes to Pansy Parkinson, who's sitting across from Blaise and Greg, and in between Draco and Vince. It's the fact that she has the audacity to further lean in to Draco even though he clearly seems uncomfortable and tries to lean the opposite way. Her behavior irritates me more than I'll ever admit.
"Pansy Parkinson, how lovely to see you again." I fake a pleasant smile as I walk up to her. Daphne sits down beside Blaise, turning up her nose at the sight of her.
Parkinson takes notice of me and finally leans away from Draco. She flashes a dreadful attempt at a sweet smile. "Oh, Celestia Young! I forgot you knew how to speak English."
That single comment seemed to change the whole table's demeanor. Students gawked and covered their mouths in shock. Greg and Vince stands up instantly, and Blaise, Daphne, and Draco flash her furious glares, to which she was completely oblivious of.
"And I forgot your lack of originality for insults, as well as your lack of taste." I eye her hideous hair in the latter half of the sentence. I lightly wave off Vince and Greg to sit down while still keeping my eyes on Parkinson.
She desperately tries to keep up her fake innocent grin. "Well? How's your manor?"
"How very kind of you to ask!" I beam and casually shove her aside to sit between her and Draco. "It's doing wonderful with the repair money that your family has been sued for. How's your brother?"
"Don't speak of him." Her demeanor instantly changes, her face scrunching up hideously to match her hair. "He would be walking like a free man and not rotting in Azkaban if it wasn't for your wretched mother-"
A cup of pumpkin juice splashes onto her face.
Her face paints an image of horror as she processes what had just happened. My friends—including the entire Slytherin table—all bursts out into laughter. Blaise accidentally spits out a little of his juice before covering his mouth and resuming to laughing, while Greg cackles regardless of the juice pouring out of his mouth.
"Plant your face into a bowl of flour, and you'd actually make a lovely rotten pumpkin pie." I keep up my unfaltering smile and set Draco's emptied cup back on the table.
