Chapter 23

                                    

                                          
Lucy Rosier 🐺
1st of November, Waxing Crescent 🌒
If someone had told me I was going to wake up in a Victorian country manor, having just slept with the owner, I would have told them they must be dreaming.
I woke up late, like I never do. I could tell it must have been the noon already. I smiled softly as I turned in the crimson duvet, morning cosines settling in as I stretched and glanced around the room sleepily. 
It was gorgeous in the faint light of day. I noticed a bookshelf filled to the brims with volumes of poetry, figurines and trinkets. A large landscape painting of mysterious castle shadowed by mist and sharp mountains hung over the fireplace behind a golden frame. 
I could still smell our love in the air. Tinge of another scent lingered around too. A white cup with black coffee was waiting for me on the nightstand, accompanied by a butter croissant and a single rose.
I felt utter happiness in my chest, spilling like sweet honey down my bloodstream. 
I could not wait to be in his arms once more. 
I sat up and sipped the beverage, inhaling the leftover musky scent of Lucius that seemed to have stayed on my body and the bed. A single long silver hair lied over his pillow. 
After having my coffee and pastry, I walked up to the windows and parted the curtains. The view was outstanding. Rough terrain with endless trees slowly shedding their last leaves. A lake spilled at the feet of the estate and the red and golden woods. It reflected the colours in its black as a raven feathers surface.
I saw the path leading to my aunt's house. 
'I should go, shouldn't I?' I bit my cheek, thinking vigorously. My heart rate sped up at the thought. 
Lucius would possibly bring my hearing letter. It would have been awkward to meet her at the court without speaking before. I found my handbag tossed over a cushy chair and I picked my scattered pieces of clothing from the floor. I then pulled out a fresh set of clothing I packed in case I stayed overnight. 
Not only Malfoy did expect Samhain to be... hedonistic, after all. 
I smirked at the thought, as I used my wand to put my hair in place, pinning the front section to the back and I put on a comfy, long black skirt along with a red blouse. 
I walked down the corridors towards the main door, glancing around in awe. The Manor seemed to live and breathe long history of generations calling this place home. I loved every corner of it, the mystery bringing thrills to my neck. I could almost hear whispers of ghosts of the past. 
The front yard welcomed me with bushes of blooming roses, enchanted to live forever as they decorated the tiled path crowned by an iron gate. I enjoyed chirping of the birds and quiet, shy sounds of nature preparing for a long sleep. The walk didn't take long and the day was very warm compared to the last few days. I enjoyed the lack of blinding sun though. The weather was simply perfect.
The charming English cottage with the little front garden was tucked by the road and a forest. The chimney smoked cheerfully into the grey sky.
I rang the doorbell.
I thought she wouldn't be home for a moment and just as I was about to leave, the door parted. Vinda's cat-eye shaped glasses added to her sassy attire. Her hair was tied in a braid and she was wearing an elegant purple suit. Her gaze sparkled with warmth as she spoke French to me. 
'Bonjour!' she exclaimed and I embraced her tightly. I felt bad for avoiding her. Hopefully I could make this right.
'Bonjour, auntie. May I come in?' I asked gingerly and she opened the door further.