He was a handsome man, I thought, but his face wore a very serious expression. His eyes were soft as he took in his wife, but changed as soon as his attention was drawn to a young wizard who appeared at his side.

"Shall I hold your messages, Lord Malfoy?" the young wizard asked. He did not look Lucius in the eye, and I wondered if he was afraid of Narcissa's husband.

"Yes, Merriweather. And let the Minister know that I shall return this afternoon." Lucius's voice was just as serious as his expression, an elegant aristocratic drawl. It was the voice of a man who gave orders all day, I thought, and who expected those orders to be carried out as exactly as they had been given. Sure enough, Merriweather tipped his head in a nod of acknowledgement and scurried off down the hall.

It was then, that those hard mercurial eyes fell upon me.

"Of course, you recall your cousin Armand's daughter?" Narcissa said, gesturing toward me. "Dear Ophelia has grown since you've seen her last, has she not?"

"Indeed," Lucius replied, a faint smile on his face. "And it is your birthday, is it not, child?"

"Yes, Lord Malfoy." I bobbed into a little curtsey as I said so. I could feel a gentle hum coming from Lucius – a measure of his power, Narcissa had told me – near equal to what I felt from his wife. He was my peer, surely, and therefore I was not to be intimidated by him. From the wizards and witches in the office around us, I felt half of the magical presence that I got from the Malfoys, and for the first time in my short life, it dawned on me that not all witches and wizards were equal in their magical abilities. I wasn't sure how to process this, and chose to consider it later.

"Then, I shall not have Armand send his youngest girl to London without a birthday present to bring home. Shall we venture forth, ladies?" Lucius held out his arm to Narcissa, who accepted it, and we left the office, Malfoys leading the way and myself trailing behind.


I emerged from the floo once again. We were in a dimly lit room that reminded me of the kitchens at Bellthorn - scrub board tables, a merrily crackling fire and the aromas of warm, fresh food filling the air. The place was filled with people, some at the tables, some before the hearth, others standing at a bar on the other side of the room. Apart from the delicious smells that tickled my nose, the air was saturated with something that I could not name. Whatever it was, this invisible thing, I could feel it, hanging heavily around my body, warm, like a blanket. I had the urge to laugh, to dance, to just… do something, anything. I felt like singing, like I had awoken not in my own bed but in some fairytale castle, like all dreams were possible and real. I wondered why no one else seemed to be feeling the way I was, why no one else seemed to be as happy as I was to be standing in that room.

There was a burst of air behind me. Suddenly, all eyes were directed and me and the place fell silent.

"Lord Malfoy," said a man coming from behind the bar, wiping his hands on an already dingy looking apron. "I am honored –"

"Merely passing through, Tom." Lucius stepped out from behind me and I realized that the bar patrons were staring at him, which made me certainly feel better.

"Come, my dear," came Narcissa's voice quietly in my ear, and a hand pushed at my back, directing me forward.

We made our way through the pub and out the back door. Witches and wizards stared after us, some wishing Lucius a good day. I got the distinct feeling that these people feared Narcissa's husband, and I wondered at this… I had a feeling that I would be doing a lot of wondering that day.

As we walked into the sunlight, I almost stopped in my tracks – that feeling that I had in the pub hit me tenfold and I gaze in astonishment at the sheer numbers of people crowding the street before us. Wizards and witches of all ages, dressed in colorful robes and hats, swarmed around me, laden with bags and packages, hurrying past each other in a complex dance that left me dizzy. I saw for the first time a wizarding child, like myself. He was standing next to a witch – I assumed his mother – holding her hand in his left, while his right was wrapped tightly around and ie cream cone. Some of the ice cream was smeared against his cheeks, and he was happily occupied lapping at his treat. He saw me watching and smiled briefly, before returning to the task at hand.

"We shall go to Olivander's first, for you training want," Narcissa informed me, taking my hand and directing me down the cobblestone alley.

"A training wand?" I asked, excited at the prospect. I would finally be able to do magic! Real magic, with a real wand!

"Olivander is the best wandmaker in England, of course," Lucius commented form Narcissa's other side. I noted that, as they had in the tavern, wizards and witches stopped to tip their hats and bid Lucius good morning, and yet others moved quickly to get out of our path.

"You will be measured today, so that your wand is ready by September, when your lessons shall begin," Narcissa continued. "And then, we shall get your birthday present."

"May I ask what it is?"

"It is a surprise, darling child," Lucius chuckled. The sound of his laugh made me somewhat uneasy, but I ignored this.

We came to a dark, weather worn door that had the name "Olivander and Sons" faintly visible in gold paint. A little bell tinkled overhead, announcing our entrance, and an aged wizard with clear blue eyes looked up from behind the ledger that he had been working in.

"Lord and Lady Malfoy," he greeted, inclining his head slightly. He did not seem afraid of Lucius, and I thought then that I might like this wizard very much.

"Mr. Olivander," Narcissa returned, smiling graciously. "We are here to order a trainer's wand."

"But your son's is in working order, surely?"

"There is no fault in your craftsmanship, Mr. Olivander; Draco's wand arrived a week ago is exactly what we wanted for him. Today, we are here for my niece." She gestured towards me, and I felt those blue eyes focus with such intensity that I had to fight the urge to fidget.

"Of course," he said finally. "If the young lady will accompany me?" He held out an ancient hand. I looked at Narcissa, who nodded encouragingly. Lucius was looking around the shop, apparently bored.

I accepted Mr. Olivander's hand and followed him behind the counter to a narrow little room just to the right of the shop. He ordered me up onto a little wooden stool and took out a worn measuring tape. He touched his wand to the tape, which began measuring me while he took down measurements in a little notebook that he pulled from his front pocket.

"You feel it, don't you, child?" he asked suddenly, startling me.

"Feel what, Mr. Olivander?"

"Magic, child, magic! All around us, hmm? I bet you feel every hum and pulse of it. Do you not?"

I stammered nonsensically, unsure how to answer this man and his inquisitive blue gaze. He was looking hard at me, as if seeing something that no one else could. His presence was somehow… richer than when I was standing with Narcissa or Lucius, as if he were no more powerful but had some other quality to him that made his aura different.

"Tickles across the skin, doesn't it? In the pit of your stomach. Always there, except when it's not."

I thought a moment, wondering if he meant the feeling that had left me giddy when I stepped through the floo and into the greater wizarding world for the first time.

"I believe so, Mr. Olivander," I said, uncertain. He gave me a crooked smile, and I felt somewhat better.

"You are a unique child. Many will underestimate you."

I nodded, for lack of any other more appropriate response. He plucked the tape from the air – where it had been measuring my ear length – and pocketed both in and his little book.

"Pointless, absolutely pointless," he said, seemingly to himself, half chortling. He walked back toward the main part of the shop and I followed, confused and more than a little tired by my trip to London thus far.

"The wand will be ready in three weeks, Lady Malfoy."

"Excellent, excellent. We will settle the matter on delivery?"

"Very good, madam."

"Come Ophelia," Narcissa said to me, extending her hand. "Are you ready?"

I followed the Malfoys out of the shop, but couldn't stop myself from turning back to get one last look at Mr. Olivander. He had pulled an old rectangular box from within his desk and was looking at it thoughtfully. It was the same shape as all of the other boxes on the shelves – a box for a wand. Whose, though, that had him staring at it so? I decided that Mr. Olivander must be a very strange wizard.

"Is he always like that?" I asked Narcissa in a low voice. We were making our way down the busy and very much crowded street. Vendors boasted their wares from shop doors. One storefront had a crowd of young witches and wizards chattering excitably. The sign above the shop read "Quality Quidditch Supplies" in bold orange lettering. I felt a sudden urge to visit the shop – I had heard of quidditch, of course, but I wanted to see the fast racing brooms used and made especially for the sport. I wondered if Narcissa would let me learn to fly.

"Mr. Olivander? Were it not for his skill, he would be considered more than a little eccentric."

"Lucius, that is unkind," Narcissa scolded. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"He is very strong," I remarked. "We should be respectful." Narcissa smiled at me approvingly; Lucius turned that eyebrow on me, but his look was far stonier than the one that he had given his wife.

We stopped in several more shops – to order new robes for Narcissa for the Minister's autumn charity ball, to visit the editor of the Daily Prophet (with whom Lucius met privately while Narcissa and I watched the photographers bespell the prints for the evening paper,) to pick up an order of potions ingredients for Draco, and so on. I remained generally silent, content to absorb the bustling rhythm of wizarding life that surrounded me. I felt truly part of that world for perhaps the first time in my life. I was just like the other children, out with their parents, fascinated by the magical objects held in every shop window along the alley. I was in love with my world, and with my people. I counted myself fortunate to have been born a wizarding child, that I could consider myself one who belonged.

We stopped at a little outdoor café for lunch. Lucius then bade us farewell, promising to meet Narcissa at home that evening. After a time, we came to a storefront filled with yipping krup puppies. The door to the shop was open, an odd mixture of hoots and hisses and sqeaks and purrs pouring out into the alley.

"You may pick your present now, Harriet," Narcissa whispered, taking us inside of the shop. "But choose your familiar carefully."

"Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed and ventured through the aisles, wide-eyed and staring at the many creatures filling the cages and tanks. In one cage, a crowd of sleek black rates performed flips and tricks that made me laugh. I passed into the owl section and was about to approach a golden tawny when a voice caught my attention.

"Bloody birds… don't know when to shut up."

I turned around, looking to see who had spoken. To my left, at the far end of the aisle, I saw Narcissa chatting with the proprietress. No other wizards seemed to be in the shop.

"Just need a nap, that's all. Peace and quiet to take a nap… miserable creatures."

"Excuse me?" I whispered. I heard a rustling to my right and turned. A few paces down the aisle, a black snake lay coiled on a rock. A magical light shone in her tank, sparkling off the intelligent green eyes that stared at me.

"Do you Speak, child?" the snake hissed.

"Of course," I said, more confidently. "I am six, after all."

"What is your name, child Speaker?" I stepped closer to the tank and whispered at the glass,

"Harriet Potter. But I'm in disguise today, so you must call me Ophelia in front of everyone." It was very difficult to tell what expression a snake is making, but I was certain that she was surprised.

"Why tell me your true name, then?"

"It is bad luck to lie to a magical creature," I stated matter of factly. Ginger had told me that most magical creatures can tell a lie directly, and that only bad things could come from invoking their anger or mistrust. The snake hissed in a manner that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"Fear not, young Harriet. No one can understand us."

"What do you mean?"

"We are speaking my language – the serpent tongue."

"No we're not," I replied, thinking the snake rather foolish. "I don't know any other languages. You're speaking English, just as I am." Again, the snake laughed – or, that is what the hissing sound reminded me of.

"I like you, Harriet Potter. I shall leave with you."

"Ophelia, you know better than to sit on the floor," came Narcissa's voice above me. "You'll get your dress…"

I looked up at the sudden silence. Narcissa was staring at the snake in astonishment, mouth parted, eyes wide.

"Tell Mrs. Malfoy that it is impolite to gape."

"That's Lady Malfoy, and you tell her yourself," I replied, frowning at the creature's rudeness.

"Harriet." Narcissa bent low, staring at me now. "Do you… do you understand what the snake is saying to you?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know that you shouldn't speak with the animals. But she was not being very nice to you."

Narcissa lifted my chin so that I was meeting her eyes. She seemed to decide something, and stood suddenly, expression completely neutral.

"It is alright, child. We shall… we shall take her with us, hmm? And then let's get home. I'm sure that you are exhausted."

She called the shopkeeper over to retrieve the snake and then paid for the creature. The shopkeeper practically threw the poor thing into a wicker crate, as if afraid to touch her. I heard the snake hiss some very rude things at the proprietess and had to stifle my laughter.


Narcissa left Bellthorn later that evening. Harriet, worn out from the day's excitement, had fallen asleep on the chaise in the Rose Library while Narcissa read to her from a new book. The massive black adder remained coiled about the child, eyeing Narcissa's every movement with a suspicious eye.

Narcissa still didn't know what to make of the situation. She recognized the creature immediately, of course. Who didn't know Lord Voldemort's familiar? And, had she any doubts, Harriet had happily introduced her to Nagini when they arrived back at Bellthorn.

The child was a Parselmouth. A Parselmouth, for Morgana's sake! How? Only Voldemort himself, heir to Slytherin's line, spoke the language. No other wizard alive had the power. There was no link in the Potter line, no way that the child had a drop of Slythering blood in her veins.

So, how? How was this half blood Gryffindor the only other wizard alive with this particular power? Did Voldemort know? Was this part of his interest in the girl?

Narcissa had found herself constantly asking this question over the past five years. Why this girl? Why did the Dark Lord spare her and not her parents? Why did he demand faithful correspondence of the child's daily progress.

And what if the Dark Lord had no idea? What was she to say?

"Returned at last." Lucius's silken voice broke her from her thoughts. She looked up into the mirror of her vanity. Her husband moved from the doorway to stand behind her, never losing her gaze.

"What do you think?"

"Of?"

"Harriet."

"Ah." Lucius didn't respond immediately. He took time to unfasten her necklace, lay it gently on the table, and caress her neck with light, soft strokes.

"She is powerful," he said simply. "Perhaps too powerful for a child her age. Certainly more than I would expect out of Potter's half born ilk."

"She is a Parselmouth." Her husband's hands stilled at that.

"You are certain?"

"More than. She is bound to Nagini." At that, Lucius's eyes widened – a gesture of absolute shock that was normally absent in the Malfoy repertoire of expression. "The adder sleeps coiled around her as we speak," Narcissa continued, regaling what took place in Magical Menagerie.

"So this is why the child is important to the Dark Lord," her husband said at last. "Do you think that the girl is his?"

Narcissa had considered that very possibility many times in an attempt to understand the Dark Lord's motives.

"I do not believe so," she said at last. "I do not recall him taking such an interest in Lily."

"And yet there is no other explanation for the child's ability."

"None yet that I have discovered."At this, Lucius smiled. He loved his wife not only for her beauty and grace, but for her inquisitive, cunning intellect.

"Shall I inform the Dark Lord of these events, do you think?"

"It is likely that the Dark Lord already knows of the girl's power."

"But what of Nagini? How long has the Dark Lord been without his familiar, Lucius?" Her husband looked thoughtful.

"I do not recall her going missing in the first place," he admitted. "We all believed that he kept her in his personal rooms."

"If he has not mentioned this, then perhaps it would be best that we do not say anything. Could he have sent to serpent to watch the child?"

"It is a possibility," Lucius said. "And what are we to do with the girl?"

"Begin her education, like a normal wizarding child. It is as the Dark Lord wishes. In fact, I had thought to bring her here to take lessons with Draco."

Lucius frowned at that. Though Narcissa disapproved of the attitude, she knew that her husband cared little for half bloods. She worried about that prejudice finding its way into her son.

"Is that wise? I do not believe that our young Dragon will take kindly to a rival for his attentions, my dear."

"He is his father's son." Lucius chuckled, a deep velvety sound that sent a thrill of pleasure down Narcissa's spine. His deft fingers were making quick work of her bodice.

"There is something about her that draws attention, isn't there?" Lucius continued, thoughtful. "If her power is at this level now, what will she become as she matures?"

Narcissa studied her husband's face in the mirror before turning around to look at him directly.

"You are planning something."

"Not yet, my love, not yet. Merely, seeing possibilities newly presented."

Narcissa rose from her bench, allowing the gown that Lucius had been unlacing to fall to the floor. Those cool silver eyes darkened, taking in her naked form.

"And what possibilities lay before you now, Lord Malfoy?"

With a throaty growl, Lucius lifted his wife and carried her to their bed.

Some hours later, as Narcissa fell into a deep, sated slumber, and thought wormed its way into the back of her mind.

'What if Harriet was to be as powerful, magically, as the Dark Lord himself?'

And with that, she drifted off to sleep, curled up against her husband.


A/N: Sorry for the long haitus! I am currently attempting a doctoral program, which has left me little time for anything else. But the muse has struck, and if I didn't get another chapter out, I was going to go crazy. Don't give up on me, folks, the story is not abandoned, but I will be somewhat slow to update. As always, please read and review!