The Quidditch World Cup {Pt 1}

                                    

                                          
Seren's POV
We pass through the crowds virtually untouched, a breath of black fog weaving through the mass of bright colours – greens and golds, violent reds and browns. 
My mother and Lucius lead the pride like lions, intimidatingly tall, perfectly postured, taking even, measured steps that are smoother and more fluid than anything I've ever managed in my life. But I'm trying, and this is the role I've been raised to play since I was born - it's not a joke anymore is what my mother keeps saying, it's our legacy on the line.
And I think about this as I note the eyes that ride upon our faces, calm and controlled; our shoulders, straight back and rigid; our clothes, jet black and smart enough to be dress robes... remembering the words 'we stand up, we stand out, we stand forever' repeating it in my mind like a mantra.
I let the stares roll right off me, relishing the attention, relishing the fact that I'm doing something right, that I'm making my family proud. I ignore the underlying awkwardness and the instinct that keeps trying to pull my shoulders into a slump and my face into an irritated scowl every time I notice the ache in my shoulders, or the burn in my thighs.
We stand up, we stand out, we stand forever.
I straighten up again, holding the eye contact of a brunette teenage boy openly gaping at me - at the hair upon my head meticulously styled in a half braid away from my face, at the glittering diamond stars within it and the subtle trails of thin silver ribbons streaming through its golden-brown length. I watch the way his round, blue eyes catch on the carefully selected jewellery furnishing my skin; my father's ring, the elegant bangles on my wrists, the serpent necklace that Draco bought me for Christmas hanging gracefully from my neck... all picked to match the slithers of silver adorning the half-moon of my lash lines and the stars in my hair. 
I avert my eyes from him, instead focusing on the blonde next to me and his parallel perfection - black robes, sleek hair - adorable grin - I blink and bite my lip, using the pain to mask the heat rising to my cheeks.
"You look amazing," he'd said earlier, such a simple compliment that had such a profound effect.
"Chin up, my shooting star," my father nudges gently, tapping my elbow.
I hadn't even realised that my eyes had fallen to the floor, but at his reminder, I lift them back up - straight ahead, "Yes, father."
This part was the most important - the part where everyone was watching. 
Because this entire afternoon has been precisely crafted to our advantage, planned weeks in advance. Careful flattery of Fudge, perfectly timed ministry visits, generous donations to St Mungo's... it's the reason the carpet beneath our feet carves a separate path from the rest of the rabble of wizardkind, the reason why we are on the way to the minister's booth - not - the public stadium seats.
People like us don't belong with the public - we stand up, we stand out, we stand forever.
"Seren, look," Draco whispers suddenly, only the fact that his mouth is so close to my ear meaning he is heard over the muddled roar of the quidditch fans. 
His shoulder bumps into mine, the contact making my skin fizz, and he points to the staircase currently parallel to ours. On it, stands a group of unpleasantly familiar people, "Ugh," I say before I can help myself, disgust knitting my features into a grimace. "What are they  doing here?"
The sudden inclination of Lucius' head marks the beginning of the game, a wicked gleam flaring in his cold, grey eyes. He pauses his steady stride and my mother, Cissy, my father - all follow his eyeline to where the Weasleys, minus the mother, Potter and Granger are making their way eagerly towards the opening leading to the public seating, just as loud and obnoxious as everybody else on their side of the stadium.