Chapter Text
early 1965
Pandora Rosier was always a happy child with a vast imagination. Before she was old enough to take on the expectations of her parents (at only four years old), she would twirl around and fall into the grass. She would giggle as she walked through the large house. She would pretend she was a princess at every meal. She would pretend to be the dragon that her twin brother would fight. The second her parents realized she was old enough to be molded into the perfect child, however, the joy was gone. Lessons took the place of play. Silence and blank faces replaced her giggles. She wasn't a princess at meals: she was a child of one of the most respected pureblood families. In the Rosier family, Pandora was a vibrant orchid surrounded by briars.
Pandora was not built to live in a perfect pureblood family. She couldn't sit through French lessons followed by her mother droning on about proper behavior. Forcing her face into an unreadable mask was impossible for a girl who just wanted to smile.
"Pandora! Fix your face!" her mother would snap and slap Pandora's knuckles with her wand before they walked into yet another pureblood gala.
She was no stranger to the feeling of her mother's wand hitting her knuckles. She dreamt though her French lesson and received a hit on the knuckles. The wand slapped her knuckles when she would laugh at her imagination around her parent's friends. She barreled through the halls and the wand tapped her knuckles. She forgot to be polite or didn't speak in an esteemed way then the wand would hit again. Her knuckles were permanently red and sore.
Her imagination kept her sane as she forced herself to be an unreadable, perfect pureblood at only four years old.
"Pandora! Evan! Your father and I need to speak with you about something serious!" her mother called one day.
She started to race to the sitting room until she met her mother's stern glare and slowed to a walk, head held high. "Mother, Father?" she asked stiffly and expectantly. It was so hard for her to not to burst into laughter right there.
"Pandora, I know your mother has taught you better than this! Sit down and wait patiently. You are a child. You will not rush us as if you have something better to do!" her father said angrily. She glanced at her mother who had her hand over her eyes. She was muttering to herself.
"Yes, what your father said," she said as she took a deep breath. Her pail curls were piled on top of her head elegantly. "Now, do either of you know anything about the mudbloods?"
Pandora didn't say anything. Thankfully, Evan spoke up. "Wizards who don't have," he paused, "magic parents? Cassandra said they are dirty!"
Pandora thought about Cassandra, their au pair. She had a red face and would constantly say things like "Those muggleborns are disgusting!" or "We should get rid of the mudbloods!" The though of the mean, angry woman almost caused Pandora to shiver. By now, she had learned to restrain herself.
When she glanced back up, both of her parents had started to smile. They fawned over Evan for a few minutes. This conversation was obviously not something she wanted to be a part of. Instead of learning about the mudblood problem, she was Princess Dora.
Princess Dora was elegant. Her hair was styled elegantly, but not like her mother's formal hairdo. She looked beautiful and perfect, yet still happy. A pale purple gown fit her perfectly. She danced through the halls, spinning and laughing. She attended balls with a smile, not a mask. Evan lived with her and he was happy as well. She had a pet lizard who looked identical to one she tried to keep but was met with a tap on the knuckles.
"Pandora Rosier!" her mother screeched.
"I'm sorry Mother. I'll pay attention more better." She was met with eye roll. Her mother waved her and Evan out of the room. As she left, she could hear her fathers loud, deep voice as he shouted and her mother's shriek as she shouted back.
The only parts that she could pick out were, "I thought you trained your daughter better than this, Delphine!" and "Sebastien, do not yell at me!"
Fights about her mother's ability to raise her children always lasted at least an hour. Pandora had figured this out when her parents fought every time Pandora got lost in her head too much. She didn't mind, though. When her parents weren't around, she could share her stories with her brother. They could be kids together. They could laugh. They could smile. They could have fun. However, they had to be very careful. Their parents were like hawks, ready to dip down and pluck any bit of joy out of her hands.