August 1, 1802

Althaea stood alone as she observed her family tree, her eyes fixated on the golden vine flowers that represented all proper purebloods and the names that were embroidered in silver beneath them. She vaguely traced her own name on the tapestry.
Althaea Achillea Melifua.
A voice jolted her out of her reverie.
“I’m impressed, sister,” a quiet, calm voice murmured from the doorway. His footsteps were silent and he had long, graceful strides for he was by Althaea’s side less than a moment from speaking. Althaea waited for him to elaborate.
“For you to have acquired yourself a fiancé and you both haven’t even left Hogwarts..,” he trailed off as his gaze followed his younger sister’s. His eyes fell on her nimble fingers and the name that she was tracing. They had crept onto the golden flower whose vine was attached to hers.
Septimus Lucifer Malfoy.
“You’re worried.”
He said it bluntly, a statement. Her hand fell away from the flower and to her side. Her eyes stung with the tears of uncertainty and a bit of shame. She didn’t trust her voice, so she simply nodded and tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear. His expression softened.
“Septimus will treat you well, you know, there isn't anything to be worried about,” he said softly, placing his hand on her shoulder. She bit her lip uncertainly.
“I’m not worried about that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper and her voice shaking. Before her brother could respond she had turned, shrugging off his hand, and ran, her dress flowing around her.
Althaea went to her room, hurriedly pulling out her wand and casting several rushed privacy charms before pulling back the curtains on her bed and falling down onto it. She desperately tried to keep control of her muddled emotions, ignoring the single cold tear that ran down her cheek.
Narcissus wouldn’t ever understand. No matter how hard he tried to, he would never understand. Neither would Eve and Amphitrite, no matter how hard they tried. They might understand when they themselves got betrothed, which Althaea was sure wouldn’t take long, and only then might they feel her insecurities.
She focused hard on not thinking about anything, and she looked up to stare out the window. The day was dreary, dark and stormy. She sighed heavily, looking out at the huge expanse of forest that surrounded the property. She numbly got up and waved her wand to straighten her bed and dress before walking to the window.
She had always gotten chills up her arms when she looked out at the great height her room was at in the mansion. Today was no different, for goosebumps crawled up her sleeved arms. It was eerie, to look out at the pristinely cut green grass and the herd of Abraxan horses at the edge of the forest knowing just how high up you were.
She briefly wondered if hers and Septimus’ room would be upstairs like this.
Most bedrooms were. When you were a pureblood with a whole fortune of money at your fingertips, one family might have several mansions scattered around the wizarding countries. When you lived in a mansion, most of the more “strictly family” rooms were upstairs, and things like ballrooms and the sort were all downstairs.
Althaea moved away from her window and was randomly overtaken by another bout of dread and fear. She closed her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into her immaculate, porcelain skin. Another tear escaped from her eyes and she wiped them furiously with the back of her hand. Pureblood women shouldn’t cry over such pathetic issues.
There was a knock on her door. “May I come in Althaea?” It was her mother. Althaea gathered her wits and took a deep breath.
“Yes Mother,” she replied, doing her best to sound cheerful and uplifted. She turned back to the window so her Mother couldn’t see her face.
Her Mother came in, gently closing the door behind her. “It’s normal to have insecurities, you know. Although I can’t pretend I’m not a slight bit disappointed. What are you so upset about?” Achillea said this all in a bit of tone of incredulity. Althaea didn’t turn around.
“Nothing Mother,” Althaea said shortly and simply. Her gaze moved to stare out into the forest as a brief silence stretched into almost a full minute. She could feel her mother’s gaze boring into the back of her head.
“You should be overjoyed to have secured yourself into such a profitable marriage with the Malfoys. Such a prestigious family! Although, I guess it wasn’t such a surprise. With beauty like yours, you were bound to get some attention. You know, even the Gaunts reached out to us to assign a marriage, even with their strange obsession with marrying cousins. Then the…” Achillea’s voice faded into background noise as Althaea got lost in her thoughts. She would get to see Septimus soon; it was around a few weeks until school started again.
“Althaea!” Achillea snapped and jerked Althaea out of her reverie. “Yes Mother?” Althaea asked, doing her best to sound as though she had been listening. She turned in time to hear and see her mother angrily huff and fling the door open wandlessly and storm out in long, graceful strides. Althaea bit her lip guiltily. Oops.
Althaea winced as the door slammed, the sound echoing throughout the hallway. She sighed heavily and walked towards her bed and sat down, summoning a book and staring at the pages unseeingly and lost in thought, trying not to think about her troubles.