The summer heat had reached its peak that day, and British civilisation struggled to cope. Families fled to the park as though it were a pilgrimage, mothers trying desperately to reason with their irritable, sticky fingered children and fathers using every inch of their self restraint to not stare as a group of long legged golden teenage girls sauntered past.
Just on the outskirts of the park was a Greasy Spoon, serving to groups of builders, local crackheads, and the occasional family who had strayed too far from the nicer part of town. Within the grimy, tea coloured walls of the said cafe was the most famous witch in modern history; Lorna Potter. Despite not yet being fifteen years of age, Petunia and Vernon had decided that she had been a parasite to their resources for too long, after all, hand me down clothes and left overs from their own plates cost a great deal. Vernon got in touch with an old friend of his, and told him of his troublesome, drug addict niece, who was a negative influence on their dear son, but that he was sure a few hours of hard week each day would keep her occupied from the horrendous gang crime with which she had previously been affiliated. The friend in question, Terry Brown, was more than happy to have a servant at his disposal, someone he could abuse and humiliate without fear of retribution.
As Lorna took a deep breath before plunging her hands in the burning hot water to scrub the dishes (hot water worked best, and there was no way he would risk her getting even a moment of relief from cold water, hence he cut it off from the mane).
"Potter!" Terry barked, storming into the kitchen. Lorna spun on her heel to face him, and his unfortunately proportioned features. His wide face, flat nose and blackened teeth made him to be the stereotypical ogre from a children's story; yet unlike Hagrid; his personality was just as vile. "I've got lost members of the fucking royal family out there; jewels and all, now you go and serve everything at twice the price. At least try and look decent, I don't want them to walk out at the sight of you. Lady wants a cup of tea first though, three sugars" he snarled, and Lorna merely nodded obediently, her thoughts preoccupied on what sort of remotely wealthy person would waste their time in such a dump as this.
Before taking out the mug of tea, she glanced at her pitiful reflection in the stained metal of the boiler: her messy black hair, although tied back had gone frizzy from the humidity, yet some strands stuck to her cheeks from sweat, alongside her lopsided glasses and pen resting on her ear; she looked dreadful, and she hoped that the rich costumers would not be too offended by her appearance. Taking a steadying breath, she pushed open the door and entered the dining area. Her eyes scanned the small room, looking past the leering men and the old woman talking avidly to her ketchup bottle, then she saw them, and her heart stopped in her chest.
The girl facing her direction looked like a Goddess; a higher deity of some sort, she emitted a breathtaking glow about her, matched by her long white blonde hair, which framed a perfectly carved face. The light from the window wall made her dainty nose, strong cheekbones and shaped eyebrows to appear as though they had been carved by angels. Lorna knew her as well as she knew her own face, it was Dea Malfoy.
Then a far taller woman turned to look in her direction, and Lorna lost feeling in her hands just looking at her. Narcissa Malfoy gave the impression that she could kill with just her stone cold,black eyes. Her intricate lightweight robes radiated dignity and grace, and fit her lean body so perfectly that her overall allure appeared too beautiful to be human.
Lorna didn't realise that she had dropped the mug of tea until she felt her wrist burn from the spilt liquid. Still her shock prevented her from acting logically, she dropped to her knees and began to scoop the broken shards with her hand.
"What the fuck is wrong with you! Fucking useless you are!" Terry had suddenly emerged from the store room, steam practically emitting from his ears. Remembering the honourable guests in front of them, he attempted to smile lightly amidst his rage. "Please excuse her, Ladies. She's retarded, don't speak much English neither, ain't that right Lorna?" he asked maliciously. Lorna didn't trust herself to speak, so merely nodded meekly, not daring to look up at the witches. "This mess better be cleaned before I come back" he hissed under his breath before storming outside. The cafe, which had fallen silent, resumed the usual hum of conversation, yet Lorna was acutely aware that neither Malfoy's had said a word, she hurriedly took the broken glass in her hands, and in her haste barely noticed how they seemed to levitate into her palms. Her head still bowed in shame, she rushed back to the kitchen, slid the glass into the bin and, as though all her energy had been extracted from her by a single spell, slid down against the fridge, pulling her scrawny knees to her chest instinctively.
"Jesus Christ" she whispered shakily, "Merlin's fucking pants" What could Dea and her mother possibly be doing in arguably the most deprived, muggle area in the country, in her cafe as well. How could they have found out where she worked? Had Dea gone to such trouble just to humiliate her in front of her mother? Now she had a novels worth of embarrassing insights of her life to bring back to Hogwarts. Lorna scrunched her eyes and tried desperately to control the lump in her throat. She wanted it to be a secret. Not even Hermione and Ron knew how the whole truth about things, she was too humiliated to tell them. She'd rather keep her school and home life as far away from one another as possible, and it had taken her nearly four years to build a new identity for herself, she was Lorna Potter, daughter of two brave Gryffindors, she was the Gryffindor seeker, she was the girl always in detention with Snape. Any identity, any connotation of her name was better than the pathetic, weak lowlife she was when she was in the muggle world.
She heard the door creak open, and rushed to her feat, semi preparing for a slap in the face from Terry. Instead, Narcissa stood before her- an intimidating foot taller than her too, she looked down upon her with a look of clouded confusion. Lorna instinctively stood back, feeling her face harden. It was them she realised that Dea was stood by the door, her blue eye wide.
"What do you want from me?" Lorna asked, regretting that the uncertainty in her tone overruled the hint of aggression.
"To see you, of course. You're injured, come here" Narcissa said in a business like tone, Lorna had no choice but to follow her across the room to the tap, which was still running.
"There's no cold water. I'm fine, anyway" Lorna dismissed, but drew in a sharp breath when she caught sight of her blistered hand,
"Well then it's a good thing that I'm a witch now isn't it, Miss Potter? Give me your hand" yet again, Narcissa's no-nonsense tone made no room for negotiation, yet it took all Lorna had to lift her damaged wrist, she was showing weakness, and as Narcissa's long fingers snaked their way around her forearm, Lorna instinctively cringed against the touch, however was surprised by the cold softness of them. The elder witch brought out her wand and tapped the mouldy tap three times, causing a stream of poetically blue water to stream out.
The moment is touched her skin Lorna let out a sigh of relief. The water's coolness seemed to branch from her wrist and through her body, ridding her of the uncomfortable heat that had been torturing her.
"Will she need stitches, mother?"
Lorna had been so absorbed by the magic of the water that she had not noticed that Dea was barely an inch away from her, she automatically flinched. Narcissa pretended not to notice.
"Merlin no, I'm far too skilled to require stitches" she rebuked, and Lorna swore she saw a hint of a smirk.
Suddenly painfully aware that she was trapped between two witches she hardly considered friends, or even allies, Lorna cleared her throat and spoke again.
"How did you find me? Did Dumbledore send you? Does he even know you're here? I- I don't mean to be rude but-" it went against her instincts to be rude to an adult that she knew to be both very powerful and not implicitly unkind.
"But you fear that due to the childish dispute between yourself and my daughter, that my intentions are not pure? That perhaps don't want to help you, rather I'm here to hurt you, because injuring unarmed teenagers the same age as my daughter is something that appears desirable to me?" she interrupted, cocking a perfectly shaped brow. Lorna felt her cheeks flush.
"Uh, yeah, I guess"
From behind her, Lorna heard Dea snicker, and instantly spun round and gave her the same dirty look she habitually threw at her in the corridor. Nonetheless, rather than throwing a preprepared insult, the blonde covered her mouth with her hand and muttered an apology. By the time Lorna looked at Narcissa, she was watching the pair of them with a calculating look that she couldn't quite decipher.
"Well then I'm afraid you are much mistaken. Dea here has told me so much about you" she purred, walking over to her daughter and placing a hand in her shoulder. It was Dea's turn to blush, and Lorna's turn to hold back a laugh. "In fact, the reason we came to see you today Lorna -may I call you that?" she digressed, Lorna quickly nodded. "Is, we were wondering if you would care to join us for dinner this evening?"
The question was so unexpected that it took a moment it to register.
"Um, I- I have to finish my shift, Mrs Malfoy, I'm not off until eight" she confessed, her mind still bubbling with thoughts and ideas.
"It would barely take a second to hex that charming manager of yours"
"But what about Dumbledore?"
"What about him?" Narcissa asked, as though he were the most irrelevant person in the world.
"I'm not allowed to be in the Magical World during summer. Not until near the end anyway. I can't even see my god-" Lorna stopped in her tracks, the buried bitterness over not seeing Sirius and Remus, of course, she was eternally great full that they could write to one another, but still, they were the only connection she had towards her parents, and she would have walked over a bed of nails to spend time with them this summer rather than with the Dursley's.
"I'll make you a deal, I'll handle Professor Dumbledore afterwards. If you wish I can take you to Sirius's house this minute" Narcissa promised, and Lorna stiffened.
"How did you know-"
"Let's just say that your god father and I knew each other once upon a time"
It seemed to good to be true, too simple. One swish of a wand and Lorna's problems would dissolve as though they were nothing. Why had Dumbledore made it appear so complicated, as though there were a million obstacles in the way of her seeing Sirius that she just could not overcome.
She thought for a moment, biting her lip.
"What about dinner?" she asked dumbly
"That's up to you, I would never force you against your will Lorna. Either way I promise to give you what you want"
Why? Lorna wanted to ask, but it felt too rude. It would also be rude to decline the dinner invitation, in fact a small part of her was desperate to go, for a reason she did not understand.
"Thank you, for inviting me that it, and of course if it isn't too much trouble I would love to come" she forced herself to say.
"Wonderful" the elder which smiled, and Lorna could have sworn that she saw Dea's face brighten from the corner of her eye. "However there is one thing that you must din return" she added, and Lorna's heart sank.
"What's that?"
Narcissa smiled, though there was a fiercely determined look in her eyes. She extended her hands outward with her palms facing the ceiling and for a moment, how her cloak billowed slightly from a breeze, she looked like a warrior preparing for battle.
"Trust me"
Hi! so i found this in my notes from months ago and thought to post it just to see what type of reaction I'd get. So all feedback is greatly appreciated and let me know what you want to see in the next chapter or the story as a whole.
Thank you for reading :)