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THE manor, as always, was silent and chill as Athena descended the stairs, the weight of solitude pressing on her with each step. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, her gaze drawn to a portrait of a relative—who was dead. Every other Malfoy was, except for her own family. Her eyes fixated on the woman in the frame, immediately drawn to the color of her hair.

Blonde—just like every other Malfoy.

She was the only Malfoy who had ever had a different hair color. Her hair was a stark contrast, a darkness that had once felt like a small rebellion, a way to carve out an identity distinct from the suffocating legacy of her name.

It had been a solace to her, a sign that she could be more than just a reflection of the family she loved and loathed at the same time.

Being a Malfoy was both a blessing and a curse. She cherished the lineage she was born into—the power, the prestige, the history that wove through her veins.

Yet that very name cast a shadow over her, a weight of expectation and inherited burdens she could never escape.

Her black hair had been her shield, allowing her to be seen as Athena, not merely as an extension of the Malfoy name.

Now, as her reflection in the portrait seemed to echo back at her, she felt a pang of disquiet. The dark hair she had once reveled in was gone, replaced by the blonde she had fought so hard to distance herself from.

The transformation felt like a betrayal of her own identity, an involuntary return to the very thing she had tried to escape.

She stood there, caught between the love and resentment she felt for her name and her heritage.

The name Malfoy was both her birthright and her cage, and her new appearance seemed to entrap her once more in its cold embrace.

As much as she craved the freedom her black hair had symbolized, she was now unmistakably and irrevocably a Malfoy.

And in that realization, she felt an old ache resurface—a bitter reminder of the duality of her existence.

Athena could never escape the echoes of her name, nor the inescapable truth of who she was.

She let out a breath and finally looked away, continuing to where she had decided a while ago to go: the dining room. Her stomach rumbled, begging her to eat, even though she felt like she had no appetite at all.

She had barely eaten for three days. Three days since what she had endured at the hands of her own mother—the woman who was supposed to shield her from stuff like that.

Athena was sure nobody had even noticed. Nobody except Abraxas, who had tried to get into her room a few times but was always shut out by her. She could not stop thinking about how he had let Riddle know her biggest vulnerability: being unwanted. Being extra. Being unloved.

The fact that her sense of being unloved was now a weapon in someone else's hands was a chilling betrayal. It left her feeling exposed, as if her deepest fears were laid bare.

With a halt, Athena stopped in the dining room, where she expected her family to be. They always were eating breakfast, and any meal for that matter, as a family—something she despised but never argued about.

However, instead of her family, there was a house-elf who hadn't noticed her—cleaning with a wave of their hand, clearing the mess on the dining table.

It was the same house-elf who had basically raised her. She had fed Athena food when her parents forgot to, changed her nappies when her parents forgot to, and overall took care of Athena more than her parents ever did.

Athena would be lying if she said she didn't have a soft spot for Izzie, the house-elf she basically considered family at that point. The house-elf, who not only fed her, but also continued taking care of her even after fourteen years. Izzie had been the one popping into Athena's room and getting her water, food, healing potions, and wet rags after the fever Athena had gone through in the days after the torture curse. The three horrible days.

"Where is everyone, Izzie?" asked Athena immediately, brows furrowed in confusion.

The house-elf jumped and turned around, then relaxed for a moment after noticing who it was.

Standing at just over three feet tall, Izzie had the typical large, expressive eyes and floppy ears characteristic of house-elves. Her eyes were a warm, hazel brown, often filled with the responsibilities she and the other house-elves carried in the manor. Her long, thin fingers were deft at handling tasks with surprising agility.

Izzie's attire was a bit shabby but lovingly mended—a simple, threadbare tunic that hung loosely from her small frame and a pair of worn-out, patched slippers. Despite the modesty of her clothing, there was a certain charm in the way Izzie carried herself, as though every stitch and patch told a story of dedication and care.

Unlike the rest of her family, Athena treated Izzie as best as she could.

At a young age, she had offered Izzie a sock, signifying that the house-elf was free to leave. But Izzie had refused—had claimed that she would rather stay and have a purpose in both cleaning the manor and taking care of Athena.

Athena, despite her offer, hadn't wanted Izzie to accept it deep down. She had nobody else, after all.

"Master and Mistress Malfoy and Young Master Malfoy, they were gone some time ago. Izzie does not know where, Miss Athena," replied Izzie, with a hint of sympathy in her eyes as she looked up at the girl towering over her.

Athena stiffly nodded and sat down, her jaw clenching at the fact that, like usual, she was left alone and not told when her family had gone out. She hadn't even been offered to go with them—not that she expected it.

"Would Miss Athena like breakfast?" Izzie straightened up, her eyes lighting up in expectancy.

When Athena quietly nodded, she popped away and came back a moment later with a plate of food in her hands and a cup of tea. She put the food in front of Athena and popped away again, leaving the young girl to eat in solitude.

Athena dug into the pancakes in front of her, chewing slowly as she tried to digest the food she had no appetite for. Her cheeks had gone hollow, and the color in her face was drained after three days of being in bed and not doing anything except crying and debating whether she should chop all her hair off.

Her eyes snapped up when an owl flew into the dining room through the open mirror, where a gentle summer breeze was coming through. The gray owl dropped the letter right beside her plate of food and immediately flew away.

Athena glanced at the letter before picking it up with another look of confusion. Her name was right there, on the envelope written in black ink. Who had remembered to write to her?

She supposed she would know if she bothered to read it. She almost didn't, fearing who might have actually remembered her existence for once. However, Athena knew she never let her fears get the better of her. If she did, she would have run away from Malfoy Manor a long time ago.

So, she opened the envelope and took out the parchment inside, her lips quirking upwards immediately as soon as she realized who it was from.

"Dear Athena,

How is everything going in your Manor? I do hope it is going quite well, and if it isn't, please do not forget that Avery Manor always has its arms—and windows—opened for you.
That being said, I wanted to check up on you. Not writing since summer started is awfully rude of you, you know? I expect a reply as soon as you finish reading this! Also, Druella got betrothed—"

Athena's eyes widened at that sentence. She shot up from the chair she was sitting on, shaking her head at the stupidity she was feeling. She had been so focused on herself that she forgot all about Druella's problem. And Lucinda's for that matter.

Even though she couldn't have done anything about it, she could have at least sent a letter to check up on the two friends who had their own problems. However, she remembered how she couldn't even get out of bed to go to the bathroom sometimes. Her shaky legs barely got her to her private bathroom, which led to her basically crawling back to her bed after she was done.

Her eyes would flutter open and close, only noticing Izzie hovering over her with a cool rag in her hand and putting it on her forehead.

She let out a sigh and continued reading.

"—to Cygnus Black, as much as she has been dreading it. Poor girl hasn't been replying to my letters ever since she wrote to me about the news, and I'm awfully worried for her. Please write to her when you can. Tell me all about your summer so far! And please visit next weekend. The fireplace in my Manor has its wards lifted so that you can floo anytime!

Don't forget to write back,
Lucinda Elias Avery."

Athena folded the letter and put it back into the envelope, called for Izzie to clean up the almost untouched breakfast on the table—earning a soft sigh from the house-elf—and rushed up the stairs to her bedroom.

She wrote back to Lucinda, then wrote a letter to Druella. When she was done, she gave the two envelopes to her black owl and let her owl know where and to whom to give them.

When her owl hooted and flew away from her bedroom through the window, Athena turned around and walked out of her room. She might as well spend the rest of her uneventful day in the library, where the books would be her only company.

The sound of footsteps made her stop as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She swore, her eyes finding her father—who was looking at her with a guarded expression.

She plastered on a smile, which immediately faded away once she realized what he was staring at—her hair.

Athena clenched her jaw, not letting herself show the vulnerability she felt. Instead, she whispered almost to herself, "It's rude to stare."

"Manners," scolded Septimus Malfoy sharply and immediately. His arms were behind his back, his impeccable suit neatly pressed, showing off the wealth his last name carried. He stared his daughter down, his brows almost knitting together. "Is something different?"

Oh. He hadn't even noticed what was different. Only that something was.

Athena would take it. It was better than nothing.

She nodded stiffly. "My hair color," she confirmed, earning a nod from her almost emotionless father.

She stared back at the man who never chose her, her eyes never leaving his face.

Septimus did not have anything else to add. He turned around and was about to leave, but stopped when Athena asked something.

"Where were you all?"

He turned his head, not giving her a direct answer as he said, "Do my whereabouts need to be known by you, Athena?" with a small scowl.

"No," replied the girl quickly, her eyes widening at the awful assumption. She swallowed when she noticed his look—that guarded distaste in his eyes. "Why am I nothing to you, Father?"

Her question was nothing but a mere whisper—a whisper that broke the way her heart did.

Septimus Malfoy fully turned around, his blue eyes clashing with her hazel ones.

Another differentiation between Athena and her family.

"You are not my heir," he replied coldly, his eyes hardening as he looked at her. "You are nothing, Athena."

She froze in her place, not stopping him as he turned around again and left her.

The words sliced through her heart like a knife, tearing it into shreds and pieces.

It was not the first time she had been told that by her father—not the first time she had been shown how she was an afterthought—but it hurt just the same.

Feeling tears rush into her eyes, Athena took a deep breath and refused to let them fall.

Instead, she turned around and went back up the stairs, planning to do nothing more than spend another day in her bed.