Hogwarts – Slytherin Dormitory
The warm, golden-orange glow of the floor lamp filled the room, wrapping the two figures on the sofa in soft light. They were pressed so close they almost looked like one silhouette.
A man's black suit jacket and a pair of diamond-studded stiletto heels lay scattered across the floor.
Their breaths tangled together. The air between them grew hotter with every second.
Draco's platinum-blond hair, usually combed back to perfection, had a few rebellious strands falling across his forehead. His pale grey eyes were locked on the silver-haired girl lying beneath him on the plush sofa, a stormy tide of desire swirling in their depths.
His tie hung loose, shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the sharp line of his collarbone.
He leaned down, scorching breath brushing the delicate skin of her neck. A faint green-apple scent lingered there, threaded with subtle notes of pinewood that drifted into her senses.
"Why do I always see you with Nott… with Blaise… even that idiot Potter?" Draco's voice dropped, low and magnetic. "Stelle…"
Just hearing her name in that tone made the girl's breath hitch. Her long, raven-feather lashes trembled.
"Draco…"
His eyes darkened. His lips brushed her neck in a warm, deliberate kiss that sent a shiver racing down her spine.
"You know exactly what happens when you say my name like that, don't you, little troublemaker…"
"Stelle… sometimes I get so jealous I feel like I could lose my mind."
Then came a slow, possessive rain of kisses on the lips he had wanted for so long.
His fingertips traced upward, inch by inch, lingering on the soft curve of her calves. Suddenly those long, elegant hands closed around her small, delicate feet with unmistakable hunger.
The night grew deeper, the only sounds left in the room her soft whimpers and his ragged breathing…
Ten Years Ago
Midday sunlight poured through the mist like molten gold, spilling between ancient branches and painting the forest floor in warm, dazzling patches.
Towering trees stretched toward the sky, their leaves thick and lush. Along the winding path bloomed strange, magical plants in every shape and vivid color.
A white winged stallion moved at an easy pace, carrying a silver-haired little girl on his back. Trotting beside him was a fluffy cat with misty-blue fur—twice the size of any ordinary cat, equal parts adorable and majestic.
"Pegasus, you really agree with Brian's decision?" the cat asked in perfect human speech, turning its head with clear resentment.
The winged horse stayed quiet for a moment before answering in a deep, masculine voice. "Mammon, we can't fix Stelle's condition on our own. You know that as well as I do."
"Besides, she'll grow up one day. We can't keep her locked inside Belling Manor forever, or we'll end up with the same fate as Brian."
Mammon's nose wrinkled. His big furry head drooped. "But the thought of little Estelle forming a contract with some outsider…"
Pegasus sighed. "The Belling family has no other choice. Do you honestly expect those old portraits to teach her how to live in the wizarding world?"
Mammon gave a soft snort. "Fine, fine… I just hope the godfather Brian picked is actually trustworthy."
Pegasus offered no reply. Instead, the tall stallion glanced back at the silver-haired girl sleeping soundly against his mane. A very human sadness flickered in his eyes.
Poor little Estelle—only five years old and already without both parents. And now she had to leave the only home she'd ever known and face the outside world…
As if she felt his gaze, the exquisitely beautiful child mumbled in her sleep. Her tiny snowball body shifted, snuggling deeper into his warm feathers, then slipped back into peaceful dreams.
Her skin was snow-white with the faintest blush of pink. A delicate little nose, softly pale lips, thick lashes still carrying traces of dried tears. No one could guess what breathtaking eyes waited beneath those lashes.
Even Pegasus, who had watched over her every day for five years, paused for a moment at the sight. If he didn't know the Belling family was one of Britain's oldest pure-blood lines—descended from a close friend of Merlin himself—he might have suspected she carried Veela blood.
The family's ancient affliction had kept them reclusive for generations. Every descendant suffered from "skin hunger," a desperate need for physical touch that made them wary of outsiders. They handled their problems quietly, behind closed manor gates.
But the condition came with immense magical power. Estelle had inherited her father Brian's vast magic, and the two were inseparably linked.
As Pegasus had said, the last heir of the Belling line needed a partner contract with a trusted outsider to calm both the hunger and the wild magic inside her. Otherwise she would suffer the same tragic end as her father and so many ancestors before him—either dying of heartbreak when their partner passed, or taking their own life to stop their magic from destroying the entire manor.
So the two magical guardians who had raised Estelle had only two requirements for her future partner:
Pure-blood.
And strong enough to live as long as a tortoise.
The portraits of their ancestors added one more: he had better be handsome enough to match Estelle's beauty. No ugly goblin was going to taint the sacred Belling bloodline.
All of that, however, was still years away. According to wizarding tradition, Estelle wouldn't come of age until fifteen.
Right now, the most important thing was the godfather Brian had chosen before his death—Lucius Malfoy—was arriving at the manor this afternoon to take her away.
Thanks to their ancient protective spells and enormous magical wealth, the Belling family had never been touched by You-Know-Who's terror. Only someone with Belling blood could open the manor gates.
Once Pegasus carried Estelle back inside the castle, she had barely napped for half an hour before a soft paw poked her cheek.
"Meow! Meow! Estelle, time to wake up!"
"Mmm… kitty…"
The little girl rubbed her eyes, revealing misty blue irises the exact shade as Mammon's fur. With practiced ease she rolled over on the deep-red canopy bed and buried her face in the cat's fluffy belly, cheek pressing warmly against the soft fur.
After losing her mother Gloria and watching her father fall apart, cuddling with Mammon and Pegasus had become her favorite way to soothe the aching skin hunger.
The second-best cure was the strange herbs they brought from the family's enchanted forest—herbs that always pulled her into deep, dreamless sleep. For a Belling, sometimes the best rest was the deepest kind.
Feeling that small, warm body against his belly, Mammon—who usually hated being touched—melted completely.
He was certain little Estelle was the most beautiful Belling in a thousand years.
Unable to help himself, he gently rested a soft pink paw pad against her cheek.
"Meow… Estelle, no acting spoiled and cute to stay in bed today," Mammon's voice was cool and sisterly. "Get dressed quickly. Your godfather is here to pick you up."
"As an elegant Belling, I know you won't keep a guest waiting."
Estelle, who had been blissfully lost in cat cuddles, popped her head out of the fluffy fur with a soft rustle. Her silver hair was adorably tousled.
"Godfather…?" She tilted her head, confusion flickering through her beautiful eyes.
Godfather… Was that someone like a father?
Then… would he suddenly leave her too, just like Mama and Papa? Would he disappear one day and end up frozen forever inside a square picture frame?