Chaos. Chaos was not a term Narcissa was familiar with. She could tell you the root of the word. The alternative in five foreign languages, and spell it in each one without faltering. But still, she was very unfamiliar with the term. But as the Minister fell, the chandelier following, she was surrounded by it. Shrouded with the chaos, unable to find an escape from it, even as her mother ushered her behind an overturned table, whispering that sheâd be safe if she stayed there. Only, safe or not, her body shook, muscles tensing at each loud noise that came. She felt blood spilling down her cheek from where the chandelier had cut her, and rushed to put powder over it with a shaky hand. Not her best idea, as it only made it look worse. She stayed huddled on the ground in her ridiculous dress even after everything had stopped until finally... finally, she pushed herself up, shaky arms clasping hands behind her. A shaky smile, flashed at the person closest to her.Â
âWell thatâs...â She paused before she could stutter. What would be worse than faltering with blood smeared on her face. âThat was something,â she finished. âAre you alright?âÂ
