m o b i l i c o r p u s
{ an eagle in your mind }

He had had that desire to be stronger, stronger than anyone, since he had first heard of strength. Physical, emotional and magical strength. Life, of course, loves to dispose our proposals, and Draco?

Narcissa, a slender, lily-like hand placed reflectively under her chin, eyes thoughtful as she stared into the depths of the orange-reddish flames that made no noise as they burned in the fireplace, thought that fate, if it had ever been cruel to anyone, had been cruel to her son. Physical strength? He had, but it never satisfied him, only made him more colder, more detached. Emotional strength? That had gone wrong, surely. He didn't control his emotions - he converted almost each of them, almost each, into a thick veil of indifference, of icy coldness that disturbed even her, her so used to Lucius's detached manner.

Magical strength? She lowered her hand and half turned around to look at the fifteen year old seated in a corner of the giant room, head bent over a book that she knew contained every kind of spell under the sun, some of them as different from each other as the simple Mobilicorpus from the killing Avada Kedavra.


Song credit: Boards of Canada. <3