“Sweet girl,” Augustine whispered into her daughter’s ear, who had turned sixteen just a few days ago. It was time for her to find someone; it was time for her to marry. Augustine swore it to be so. Her daughter was the most glamorous girl in all of the United Kingdom, and if she could not find a proper suitor, then Augustine would have been very cross. It was impossible. Her sweet girl, her clever girl was so perfect, in every single way. She made sure of it.
She made absolutely sure, even as she stripped her daughter of her clothing, making sure that every mark on her skin was absolutely flawless. Felicity stood in front of her mother, naked as the day she was born, her arms covering her breasts shyly. Augustine tore Felicity’s fingers from her skin, leaving her entirely exposed to her mother, who stared at her so very eagerly, taking in every detail of her sweet girl.
“Don’t hide from me, my girl. We must make sure you look perfect for Mr. Greengrass tomorrow night. He may not see you this way tomorrow, but there could be wedding bells in your future, sweet girl.” Augustine stared at Felicity, impressed with her looks, trying to show Felicity that it was good to be excited. She would be a wonderful housewife, if Augustine had anything to do with it.
Augustine’s eyes suddenly snapped down to Felicity’s foot, unexpectedly. “What’s that?” she asked, her tone laced with poisonous anger.
“Mother, it’s – it’s nothing, Mother,” Felicity fussed, trying to cover up her exposed ankle, which bore some sort of lizard that Augustine did not care to think of.
“When did you get this?” she asked, her calm expression truly frightening Felicity.
“It was just a fun thing, Mother – just a few girls at school –“ she tried to explain, though Augustine quickly cut her off, taking her foot in her hands as she bent down to examine it. She shook her head with disgust and pulled out her wand, ripping the ink from her perfect daughter’s skin. Felicity cried in anguish, the ink inside of her skin slowly seeping from her foot. It felt as if she was bleeding, without any actual blood. Within ten seconds, the tattoo vanished, the only trace was ink on the floor.
“It’s all better, my sweet girl,” Augustine whispered, kissing her daughter’s ankle before standing up again and examining her. “You’re just as perfect now as you were before that awful mark. Now, you are marked by nothing.”
Felicity felt her eyes welling up with tears, but she could not cry when her mother was so adamant. Not when she was sure that not having this tattoo would make her the perfect housewife. Not when she was so sure that avoiding the Dark Arts would make her more appealing to men, make her look less intelligent and more of a pawn. Felicity knew that this was her duty in life, and she was to carry it out, but she simply wanted to be a child for just a little longer.
“Sweet girl,” Augustine whispered, fawning over her dear girl as the ink oozed onto the floor.
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