The Wizard-Born Muggle Chapter 1
Sequel to The Pureblood Squib.
Octavia Zabini has escaped the torturous expectations of pureblood society, desperate to live out her life in the freedom of the muggle world. Alas, nothing can deter Draco Malfoy from claiming what is his, and Octavia is his most prized possession. Will she succeed in her escape or be tied to a man she loathes to her core?
Running around in their bikinis, their perky bums just barely covered by denim shorts, Octavia and Pansy squealed and laughed as water poured all over them. The girls gripped tightly onto their soaked water-guns as a group of muggle guys chased them through the streets of Phuket, Thailand, the entire city enjoying water fights with strangers and tourists. It was the day of the Songkran Festival – the Thai New Year – and the entire city was alive with celebratory joy.
So far, it was Octavia's favourite cultural festival. Elephants paraded up and down the roads of the streets, shooting out blasts of water from their waving trunks and soaking the crowds. It was spectacular. Persons of all types, young and old, all races, and all nationalities, ran through the streets, attacking strangers with their water bombs and water guns, everyone as merry as a child on Christmas morning.
This was it. This is what they fled for.
Freedom. Expression. Fun.
It had been over two years since Octavia and Pansy had escaped the Zabini Manor in the dead of night, and travelled around the world without magic. They could not risk the trace of Pansy's magical signature. For they did not doubt that their families and betrotheds still hunted for them. Even Blaise. They would all be searching.
So the girls lived as muggles, engrossing themselves within the rich and vibrant cultures of communities from all around the globe. Each time they visited a new place, they found themselves even more impressed than in the last country they had visited. Constantly, their expectations were exceeded by the splendour of life and happiness surrounding them, and for two years, they were a part of it.
Pansy laughed as a muggle man, who was her lover, grabbed her around the waist and spun her in the air, Octavia running and attempting to avoid the same being done to her. The muggle that chased the wizard-born was not exactly her partner, but their relationship was hardly of the platonic variety. Let's just say that his skilled tongue performed wonders. Yet, she refused to take their relationship to the next level.
Octavia refused to enter into anything serious with the muggles they encountered on their travels, for she did not wish to suffer the heartache she had previously been victim to in her life. The two men she had ever allowed access to her vulnerable heart, had broken it beyond repair. She would never let that happen again.
The sun had set hours ago, but like most nights, sleep evaded Draco Malfoy. He performed his regular ritual on the sleepless nights he had suffered over the past two years, and stood on the balcony of his opulent bedroom. The glow of the moon above shone down on the lush Manor gardens before him, but his eyes were fixed on one particular feature of the gardens.
The Whomping Willow.
Draco had the old hostile tree removed from Hogwarts upon his graduation, and paid handsomely to have it relocated to Malfoy Manor. His absent little squib adored the brutal tree, for reasons unknown to Draco. Regardless, he acquired her favourite piece of the magical school and had it planted in the section of the gardens that the balcony paralleled.
He longed for the day that he would watch his filthy squib visit the Whomping Willow in the gardens, and he would watch the bedroom balcony. It would provide her with happiness, would it not? To have the tree in the grounds of her home? Well, the Malfoy Manor would be her home when he found her, at least.
In his mind, however, the Manor was already her home. She had just yet to return.
Each day he resided in the Manor without his squib, he felt his soul shatter and tear a little bit more. Perhaps it was beyond repair now? He didn't know. Nor did he care.
Draco cared about one thing, and one thing only: Finding his ungrateful bitch of a fiancé, and dragging her home to her rightful place.
Even after two excruciatingly long years, Draco continued in his hunt for the kitten that evaded him. But she would not evade him forever; of that, he was certain. He would find her. She would slip up, and he would be there waiting for her to do so.
It was only a matter of time.
The time was coming. Draco knew it, for he felt it. The bones within his muscular body vibrated and tingled with the nearing discovery of her whereabouts. His soul stirred deep within him, alerting him to the upcoming encounter with his beloved. He knew it. He felt it.
Octavia would be found.
The fingers of his left hand weaved and entwined with the purple silk ribbon in his grasp, his silver eyes focused on the tree ahead. The pad of his thumb brushed over the soft and expensive material of the ribbon as he imagined Octavia sitting at the base of the tree, gazing out onto the field of Saffron Crocus flowers. Her favourite flowers created a field of purple amongst the browns and greens of nature.
Draco slowly brought his hand up to face, inhaling the strawberry aroma of the ribbon as his heart yearned for her. The alluring scent of strawberries and Octavia filled his senses and soul, stirring a dangerous combination of emotions within the cold man.
His heart ached for her return; his soul yearned for hers; but his pride demanded retribution.
Draco was not concerned, however. For he knew that he would have all three.
Hermione Granger stifled a yawn as she secured her mass of wild curls at the top of her head with a stretched hair-tie, her flat and boring shoes connecting with the cheap tiles of the corridor. There were no windows lining the hallway she ventured down, but she did not require the sight of the night-sky to determine that it was late. Her aching bones told her as much, as well as her exhausted and over-exerted brain.
The third and final year of her studies showed on the weariness of her tired eyes and the tightness of her lips as she approached the door to her office. The internship she was undertaking required her to work constantly, throughout the days and nights. Hermione had almost forgotten the feeling of falling asleep in her own bed at her parent's house, as she tended to sleep under her desk or in her chair these days.
At times, Hermione felt the desire to quit her studies and enter into a more leisurely profession. Perhaps owning her own bookstore? That was a lovely thought. Alas, her interests and ambitions would not be dismissed, causing her to enter into the unappreciated sector of Creature Equality. Fortunately, however, she was four months into her final year, and would complete her post-graduate studies come December.
As Hermione was merely an intern at present, her voice went unheard at the frequent conferences. So she bit her tongue and bided her time, waiting patiently for her final year of studies to come to an end. For when it did, Hermione would take on the Wizarding World and present the prospect of House-elf rights to the world.
Hermione pushed through the heavy and creaky door to her small office – which she shared with three others, of course – and stopped dead in her tracks at what she saw.
Another blasted investigator rummaging through her desk.
"Hey!" Hermione shouted, the cloaked man spinning around to face the livid muggle-born at the doorway. "Get the hell out of my office!"
The cloaked figure grinned widely, the brightness of his toothy smile shining in the dim room as Hermione stormed toward him, wand raised.
"I will not repeat myself," Hermione seethed, her brown eyes ablaze with injustice. "If I ever see you or your associates here again, I'll blast you to smithereens."
"As you wish," the investigator laughed, pushing passed the bristled woman and disappearing through the ajar door.
The moment he departed, Hermione slammed the door shut and bolted over to the ransacked desk. Her panicked expression took hold of her weary face as she rummaged through her belongings, cursing under her breath repeatedly.
Hermione exhaled deeply in relief as she spotted the postcard in the drawer where she had left it, sinking into her chair as she ran her hands over her tired features. It was not a regular occurrence for Hermione to keep the postcards from Octavia in her office, but she had received that particular postcard that very morning in the muggle mail at her parents' home. Having been late for work, she had taken with her to her lengthy shift and read it over her three-minute lunch break.
It was how Octavia would communicate with her over the years; via rare postcards sent in the muggle mail, addressed to Hermione's parents, and signed under the alias of 'Annabelle Polly'.
The investigators were a frequent nuisance for Hermione, and had remained so over the past two years. They never stopped breaking into her office, nor did they cease ransacking her bedroom at her parents' home when vacant. Of course, she had reported it several times, claiming that the investigators were hired by the Malfoys and Zabinis. But nothing came of her allegations, for gold went farther than crimes.
Hermione had learned that over the years in her studies and internships. It was undeniable.
Status went beyond morality.
In nothing but black sweatpants, Draco stormed out of his bedroom and strode down the lengthy corridor. He had just been alerting, whilst thinking of his squib on the balcony, of his investigator arriving at the Manor. Draco knew that it would be favourable news that the hired swine had brought him, due to the late hour of the visit.
His bare feet connected with the runner rug on the ground of the corridor, the portraits on the walls stirring in their slumbers as he stormed passed them in the dead of night. The fires of the torches on the wall gave an orange glow to his marble-like chest, the muscle definition emphasised in the flattering light.
It took Draco little more than ten minutes to reach the west wing of the Manor, barging into his study, his silver eyes alight with desperation as he swiftly approached his desk. Draco didn't bother seating himself like the investigator had already done so, and instead slammed his hands down on the mahogany wood of the desk and glowered expectantly at the cloaked figure.
The feral toothy grin of the man shone beneath the shadows of his cloak, the investigator removing a thick paper-like material from his robe. The man placed it on the desk, Draco snatching it immediately as he eyed the strange paper.
"A postcard," the man explained, his amber eyes glowing brightly as he removed his hood and revealed his identity. "I can smell her on it. Such a delectable scent."
"Where did you acquire this?" Draco demanded harshly, staring Fenrir Greyback dead in the eye.
"In the mudbloods office," Fenrir answered, inhaling deeply as he drew on the strawberry aroma that coated the postcard. "I duplicated it, so she could not suspect my discovery. It should prevent a warning reaching your precious squib before you can reach her yourself."
Draco tossed the postcard onto the desk, grabbing a quill from the inkpot and swiftly scribbling three words onto the parchment scroll. The words that he had longed to say for two years.
Three words that pieced all the broken shards of his being back together, reigniting his fury and thirst for vengeance. Causing his heart to swell within him and stomach to flutter incessantly.
I found her.
Octavia handed the vendor money in exchange for the coconut, taking the course drupe from the callused hands of the Thai man. Inclining her head at the smiling man, Octavia thanked him with the polite gesture before running over to Pansy by the other fruit stand. She waited patiently as Pansy purchased half of a watermelon, the pink insides already carved into cubes, and the green shell serving as a bowl.
"Gosh, O." Pansy shivered as she watched her friend suck the juices out of the coconut by use of a long straw. "That's disgusting."
"What is?" Octavia frowned before sipping more of the murky coconut juice.
"Coconut water is simply revolting," Pansy drawled, taking her watermelon from the vendor. "I don't know how you drink it."
"It's pretty gross," Octavia laughed. "But it's cool to drink coconut water."
"You drink it to be cool?" Pansy grinned, her brow arching. "That's the opposite of cool, Octavia."
"Don't be a hater," Octavia winked, trying out a newly learned word as Pansy laughed.
They two girls made their way down the street lines with trash bags, the familiar scent of garbage and pollution invaded their senses. But Pansy and Octavia had grown accustomed to the putrid aroma over their time in Phuket, and therefore barely noticed it anymore.
At first, the ghastly smell was unbearable for the girls. They had sworn to only remain in Patong, Phuket for a few weeks before moving on to another part of the world. But as the days had gone by, Pansy and Octavia found themselves to have grown rather fond of the lively tourist spot and had come to forget the horrid scent surrounding them. Now, they only smelled the sizzling meats on the kiosks on the streets of Phuket, laced with the saltiness of the ocean and the alluring aroma of freedom.
Octavia's white canvas shoes connected with the filthy cracked pavement as they journeyed through the streets, making their way to Bangla Road to meet up with their muggle friends. The humidity in the air caused O's curls to frizz and grow wild, Octavia being left with no choice but to fasten her hair atop her head, only a few loose tendrils framing her pretty and sun-kissed face. Her shoulders were protected from the strong sunrays by use of a thin flannelette shirt, unbuttoned to reveal her grey crop top. Light blue denim shorts adorned the wizard-born muggle, hardly shielding the bottom of her perky bum from those who looked.
The attire would never be sanctioned by her family back home, but it felt like a second-skin to Octavia now. She couldn't imagine tottering around the uneven pavements of Patong in heels, the heaviness of formal robes causing her to perspire. Even in her light and revealing outfit, her brow grew damp from the intensity of the heat, the gorgeous girl wiping away the sweat repeatedly.
They turned onto Bangla road, the vibrant atmosphere washing over them instantly. It was the street of Patong designed to accommodate those who wished to party 24/7, lined with clubs, bars and 'gentlemen' establishments. Stunning Thai girls stood at the front of their workplaces, luring in the men who were undoubtedly tourists, lady-boys scattering the lively street. You could never tell a lady-boy was just that by looking. They were equally as gorgeous as the women, if not more. Their make-up was 'on fleek', as the muggles would say, and their outfits were flattering to say the least.
Octavia and Pansy had been rather shocked to discover the existence of lady-boys, but had quickly come to realise that it was not a strange occurrence in Thailand. Furthermore, the lady-boys they had encountered and spoken with over the three months they had spent in Patong, were perhaps the nicest people they had met during their travels.
As they approached their intended establishment of choice, Octavia slurped the last of the coconut water through the straw before tossing the coconut remains onto the pile of trash on the road. A burp escaped her lips as Pansy threw the remainder of her watermelon onto the same garbage pile, a few stray dogs digging into the fruits immediately.
"Anna!" A handsome muggle shouted, spotting the two approaching girls coming toward the bar.
The muggle man, named Luke, jumped over the fence of the outside area of the bar, jogging over to Octavia with a wide grin on his exceptionally attractive face. Pansy had once said that Luke resembled Draco to a degree, but Octavia denied the resemblance. Yes, he was considerably pale given the strength of the sun above, and his light blonde fair fell over his forehead much like Draco's had. But the warmth of his blue eyes was nothing like Draco's icy silver orbs. Although their muscular builds were quite similar, as well the masculine definition of their jawlines.
"Hey," Octavia giggled as he swept her up in his arms and hauled her over his muscular shoulder.
Pansy laughed, following Luke back over to the group of muggles in the outdoor bar area, kissing her own muggle man on the lips to greet him. Despite the physically intimate nature of Pansy and Octavia's relationship with Luke and Brad, neither girl harboured romantic feelings for them. It was all just fun, and the two girls were not in any way prepared to relinquish a fraction of their freedom any time soon. So it was all fun and games, and nothing more.
Luke plopped Octavia down on a bar stool at the high table, the wizard-born laughing and brushing loose curls from her pretty face.
"Took your bloody time, didn't ya?" Brad laughed, his Australian accent thicker from the liquor he had consumed.
"Anna decided to become distracted by a pack of stray dogs," Pansy explained as Luke ordered a round of drinks from the waitress.
"They were hungry," Octavia shrugged. "I bought them meat from a vendor."
"And fussed over them for the better part of an hour," Pansy laughed, a tray of shots and buckets of booze placed on the table by the waitresses.
"Yeah, ok." Octavia rolled her eyes. "You're totally not exaggerating at all."
Luke handed the waitresses several notes of Baht, the waitresses evidently excited at the generous tip he had given them. The Australians were hardly known for their tips in Thailand. It was the Americans who tipped generously on most occasions.
"Well you missed the best part of my holiday," Brad grinned, draping his arm over Pansy's bare shoulders.
"Oh yeah?" Pansy prompted before picking up a shot glass, Octavia mimicking her actions.
The two girls toasted one another before tossing back the putrid liquid, a combination of various types of liquor trickling down their throats and surely burning holes in their livers. Octavia shuddered before pulling a bucket of booze toward her, Pansy doing the same, neither caring that it was ten in the morning.
It was 12 o'clock somewhere, right?
"Get this!" Brad entered into an exciting reiteration of prior events. "So some chick came up to Josh-" Octavia noticed that Josh, who sat on the edge of the bar table instantly burned crimson with mortification. "-He goes up to this hooker, right? All good, until he gets into the alleyway and, listen to this; it turns out-"
"She was a he?" Pansy interrupted, smirking at the tomato-faced Aussie at the end of the table.
"How'd you know?" Brad frowned, staring at Pansy in awe.
"Call it a lucky guess," Pansy laughed, impressed by the level of Brad's stupidity.
Let's just say that she wasn't dating him for his intellectual stimulation.
Pansy – who the muggles knew as Victoria – smiled as Octavia – A.K.A. 'Anna' – snickered discreetly at Brad's expense. It was rather refreshing to not be the dumbest person in the group, Octavia realised.
"You guys coming to Tiger later?" Luke asked, pulling O's chair a little closer to his.
Octavia nodded as she slurped at her bucket of booze through a straw, excited at the prospect of her favourite club in Phuket. The double-story club offered a variety of music, her favourite being what the muggles called 'Hip-Hop'. Octavia was not ashamed to admit that she had become quite skilled at the dancing fad 'twerking', and wasn't afraid to show off when they hit the dancefloor. Pansy, however, was more a 'slut-dropper' herself.
It was at times like these when the girls did not miss their homes or families. It was in moments like these that they lived for the now, and didn't look back. Octavia didn't feel the gaping hole in her heart in these fun and joyous moments. She didn't feel the yearning inside of her to see her family again, or her forgotten friends; Luna and Hermione.
For in times like these, she was not Octavia, and Pansy was not Pansy. They were sisters; Victoria and Annabelle Polly, two travelling rich kids from Oxford, England, spending their parent's money as they travelled wherever the wind took them.
Nothing compared to the freedom they possessed. Not money, status or family. They had each other, and that's all the family they needed.
If that was true, however, then why did O's heart still ache? Always, it ached. Even when she ignored and dismissed it, the hollow pain remained.
Always, it was there. Mocking her; taunting her; punishing her.
Octavia wished for the dull pain to disperse, but it had yet to do so over the years. If anything, it increased; thriving on her dismissals and attempts to ignore it.
She didn't know that it wouldn't go away. She didn't know that by continuing to run, she was only worsening the heartache. And it would not go away until she realised the source of the pain.
Alas, Octavia would not realise the cause on her own. But she would realise the cause very soon. Much sooner than expected.
The fire in the parlour room emitted a strong orange glow as the flames danced and licked together dangerously, the occasional crack and pop sounding out from the engraved fireplace on the wall. All seats were occupied by a mixture of Zabinis, Malfoys and Parkinsons as the postcard was passed around, each person handling it delicately as though it would crumble to ash if they were too rough.
Mediana, Narcissa and Ethel Parkinson all sat on the leather sofa, their anxious gazes fixed on the odd paper postcard that was currently being inspected by Leonardo. The Zabini patriarch flicked his hand, causing the postcard to levitate in the air right before his narrowed eyes as he inspected it closely.
Blaise sat by his father's side, his grip on the tumbler of fire-whiskey perhaps a little too tight. Draco noticed, his silverly eyes narrowing in on the firm grip before moving up to assess the tightness of his comrade's lips. From Draco's visual inspection of Blaise, he suspected that the Italian was less than pleased at their latest discovery, which Blaise attempted to conceal with a stoic expression. How peculiar.
Draco's peaked suspicions went dismissed as Leonardo addressed him.
"How can we be sure that is Octavia?" Leonardo asked, the postcard spinning slowly in the air as his dark eyes assessed it carefully. "The charms are showing no solid results. No fingerprints, or evidence of DNA."
"I doubt she touched the peculiar item with her hands," Lucius countered, sitting on the armchair to the side of Leonardo.
"It is possible that she wore gloves as a precaution," Alexander added, pouring himself another generous helping of fire-whiskey despite the early hour. "They have been very careful apparently, for this is the first lead we have had since their disappearance."
Draco had no doubt in his mind that it was due to Pansy that the two had gone undiscovered for so long. Had Octavia fled on her own, Draco would have found his fiancé within a matter of days. Alas, Pansy had gone with her, therefore the squib had her friend's logical input on their cautionary behaviour. Fortunately, a breadcrumb had been revealed. Hopefully, a breadcrumb which would lead him right to his elusive kitten.
"It has her scent," Draco drawled, fingering his tumbler absentmindedly as he reclined in the armchair. "Greyback confirmed it."
Leonardo nodded slowly, his pensive gave on the atrocious scribbles on the postcard.
"Additionally, I would recognise Octavia's dismal handwriting anywhere." Draco added coolly.
Mediana stifled a whimper of joy at the strengthening of the clue, the prospect of her favoured child returning home elating her heart. The heart that had been broken and heavy for the past two years.
Ethel Parkinson gracefully wiped a stray tear from her cheek with her index finger, her hopeful gaze fixed on the clue that rotated in the air.
"Phuket," Leonardo said as he read the location on the motionless photograph on the postcard. "An odd place to travel."
"A place we would not have searched," Alexander countered. "Limited magical communities that hold no connections to our own society; pureblood or not. They would go unrecognised in Thailand, no matter which city they journeyed to."
"If this is our daughters," Leonardo spoke firmly, "we must reach them before they leave Phuket. I do not doubt that they move regularly to prevent capture."
"What of the engagements?" Mediana asked, speaking for the first time since entering the room.
"Pardon?" Leonardo quirked his brow at his watery-eyed wife.
"When the girls are brought home, they will learn that their engagements are still in position." Mediana said, her voice thick with the tears she shed. "They may flee again."
Leonardo nodded before meeting Draco's icy eyes, the latter inclining his head and removing a small black box from the inner pocket of his robes. Draco flipped open the box, revealing a massive pink diamond ring to the other occupants, the spectacularly expensive engagement ring twinkling in the dim lights of the parlour.
"That is very pretty," Ethel drawled, eyeing the costly ring approvingly. "However, I am at a loss as to how that ring answers Mediana's query."
"Draco will send the ring away to be examined and modified by the curse-breakers at the Ministry," Lucius explained. "Once it is returned and placed on Octavia's finger, she will be unable to remove it."
"The ring will be spelled to connect with Draco's wand, alerting him of her whereabouts at all times, should he desire to check." Leonardo added.
"Why have you not had the ring charmed already?" Mediana asked, a crease at her brow.
"It requires Octavia's essence," Draco answered coolly. "Whether it be a fresh drop of her blood, or a recently taken strand of hair."
"The 'Semper Iuncti' charm," Blaise drawled, his brow quirking and eyes darkening at the realisation.
Draco inclined his head, noticing the fleeting concern that flickered in Blaise's dark eyes. Very peculiar. The handsome blonde pureblood snapped the box shut before placing it into the pocket of his robes. He cared naught about employing the eternal charm – or 'curse', depending on your views – as he would never allow his kitten to escape him again. She was his. Now and forever.
Always.
"It would take a curse-breaker of the highest calibre to break the enchantments on the ring," Lucius drawled, swirling his tumbler leisurely, the ice clanging together from the movement. "In saying that, might I suggest Octavia's restriction to the Manor? If she were to escape, even though Draco would find her in a matter of minutes, we cannot risk another scandal."
Leonardo nodded in agreement, finding that the scandal that had already arisen from his daughter's escape had yet to dim in the two years that followed. Publications and articles were still printed frequently in the Daily Prophet, accompanied by the expected whispers throughout the magical community.
Of course, the father's and fiancé's of the two escapees had assured that the girls were enjoying an approved trip around the world to educate themselves in a variety of cultures. A lie that they maintained despite the constant pestering of the media and journalists. Parasites.
A deafening crack ripped through the parlour room, Tatty, the house-elf, appearing directly before his Master, Leonardo Zabini.
"My Lord," the house-elf greeted with a low bow. "The portkey is heres, My Lord."
"When does it activate?" Leonardo asked sharply as Draco rose from the armchair, followed by Blaise.
"The portkey is to go in eight minutes," Tatty answered, still bowing deeply.
"Where exactly are you portkeying to?" Mediana asked, rising from the sofa.
"Phuket, dear." Leonardo answered as though it were obvious.
"I understand that," Mediana responded coolly, her husband arching his brows at her tone. "Phuket is a very large city, to my knowledge. The girls could be anywhere in the metropolitan area, or in the suburban outskirts."
"Do not concern yourself, dear." Leonardo smiled, approaching his anxious wife. "When I return, Octavia will be with me."
Mediana nodded, seeking reassurance and comfort in his words as Leonardo kissed her lips softly. Even after all these years, her heart still fluttered at his touch. If Octavia allowed herself to, Mediana was certain that her daughter would be just as happy as she. For there was nothing grander than being loved dearly by the man that held your heart. And Mediana did not doubt that Draco held Octavia's, no matter how oblivious her daughter was to that fact.
Draco unfastened his robes and removed them from his body, now standing in black slacks and shirt of matching colour. The striking paleness of his complexion was emphasised by the dark shade of his attire, the silver glow of his eyes even more fierce if possible. The others followed suit, removing their Wizarding robes in preparation of their arrival to a muggle city, where they would locate the wayward pureblood girls.
Running his long fingers through his blonde hair, Draco inhaled deeply as he attempted to soothe the peculiar feeling in his stomach. The fluttering sensation that only increased as their departure neared. It was a ghastly feeling, he decided. It was as though his entire body - veins, organs and all - were alight with horrid nerves that ate away at his composure.
A horrid feeling. But one that would not relent.