A Gentleman of Independent Means

Draco had never visited Antares Hall until he apparated into the property after his unceremonious departure from Malfoy Manor. He was surprised to find the grand house to be located in London, near Kensington Palace, in a stylish muggle street known as The Boltons. It was immediately clear to Draco that the house wasn't nearly as old as Malfoy Manor, and wondered how the family came into possession of the place. Looking from the window of the second floor library, he also learned quite startlingly that the house was not under a Fidelius charm when a woman walking her dog on the street looked up at him and inclined her head in his direction.

"Curiouser and curiouser!" he exclaimed. "Diggy!" he called out. Presently a house-elf appeared at his side.

"Yes, Master Draco? What may Diggy do for you, sir" She gave a low bow, her large ears flopping against the marble floor. "Diggy and Tickety has Master Draco's suite all prepared. We is just finished. Would Master like his supper now?"

"No, thank you, Diggy." The elf stared at him in shock. She'd never heard him thank her in his entire life. "I was wondering what you knew about the house."

"Only that Master Abraxas purchased the property and outfitted it sometime before Master Lucius was born, but no one ever lived here, and Master Lucius added it to Master Draco's birthright. So now here Master is!"

"I wonder why there is no Fidelius Charm on the house." He said more to himself than to the elf. He shrugged. "Well, Diggy, we have much work to do. This house is perfectly unsuitable!"

"Oh, sir! Please forgive Diggy! We is not knowing that Master Draco is not liking the house. We is only preparing for his arrival!" she wailed, throwing herself at his feet and banging her head repeatedly on the hardwood floor.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Draco cursed, realizing that the elf thought that he was displeased with her work. "Diggy, stop that at once!" he snapped. "Look at me!"

The elf remained on her knees and turned her large eyes upward.

"I'm not displeased with you, Diggy. I only meant that I would like to make some changes. Tickety!" he called. Another elf appeared beside Diggy.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"Listen to me, both of you. I think I'd like to do things a little differently here. This is my house, not my father's. Do you understand?" The elves nodded. "Good. Now, first, the house will continue to have a muggle address." The elves stared at one another and back at Draco. "Yes, I know. That is different. I will be returning to school, so you are responsible for the property while I am away. Do not allow the muggles to see you. Keep your clothes clean. I will not have an unpresentable elf before my guests. Do you understand?" The elves nodded dutifully. "Good. You may sleep in the staff rooms in the basement."

"But, sir. Those rooms is so big! Surely we is not deserving of such lavish treatment!" Tickety exclaimed.

"Well, I have no plans to use them, so they might as well be good for something. Oh, there is just one more thing. Madame Narcissa may visit the property when she pleases. However, under NO circumstance is Lucius Malfoy to enter this property without my express consent. Are we clear?" The elves nodded vigorously. "Fine. You are dismissed. There is no need to prepare a meal. I shall accommodate myself." The elves disapparated immediately and Draco set about placing protection spells on the property, including an anti-apparition charm. He decided to leave off Repello Muggletum and debated with himself for quite a while whether or not to place a Fidelius charm. Finally, he decided to forego it. Lucius already knew where he was, no one else did, and as the house wasn't already unplottable, he thought it might appear odd to the neighbors if the house were to suddenly disappear from sight.

Satisfied that the house was sufficiently protected, Draco retired to the library with a bottle of wine and his portable CD player. He inserted a disc and pressed play. To his delight, the muggle artifact worked! He pointed his wand at the headphones and cast a Sonorous charm. He cheered silently as the room filled with music and he placed the player on his desk, where he discovered a small pile of letters. He regretfully realized that these were the letters he'd penned to Épiphanie and never posted. It had been more than a week, and he was sure that she thought he'd forgotten her. Draco tossed the letters into the fireplace and retrieved fresh parchment from the desk. He took a sip of wine and sat down to write.

Dear Épiphanie,

I sincerely hope that you can forgive me for failing to write before now. In fact, I have written several letters to you since my return to England, but to be honest, none of them seemed to convey what I was feeling. I have finished one of the books that you gave me: The Diary of a Young Girl. When I look back upon my role in our wizarding war, I find myself feeling the tug of guilt for having been acquitted. Certainly, my family bears the responsibility for lives lost and families torn apart forever, even if it was not our wands that did the deed. Well, except Auntie Bella—she was truly a madwoman. No, I am not planning on making any late night excursions to the Thames for an endless swim. Do not be concerned for me. I have focused my energies into changing my outlook on the world. Upon my return, I spent a week in a muggle youth hostel. I don't know if you are familiar with the term. It is rather similar to the accommodations at your home. Apparently, hostels are quite popular in muggle Europe. I haven't made any friends, but I used the time to contemplate my future—not much progress there. Perhaps once I return to school, I may have some idea of what I would like to do with the rest of my life. I have made a few significant decisions, however. Father and I had a vicious row, complete with fisticuffs, wands drawn and curses thrown. Clearly Malfoy Manor cannot withstand the egos of two masters. However, since I am of age, I now have access my birthright—a sizeable sum of money and assets in a vault of my own as well as a few properties in my name. I have selected one of the properties and made it my home, so you may now consider me a man of independent means! I do confess that my mother was quite distressed by my decision to leave the Manor. I shall have to summon the courage to visit her as often as I can bear it. Oh! I didn't mention that my home is located in a muggle district of London! It appears to be a lovely neighborhood—two crescent streets with a communal garden in the centre. I've not yet had the opportunity to explore the neighborhood, but I do believe that my next muggle project may well be to obtain an automobile. Yes, it's quite ambitious, I know! I have contemplated your conjecture as to whether your father may in fact be a wizard. I do believe that there is a distinct possibility that he is—or was. (Sorry to be so maudlin, but the war took its toll on many.) The place that you say your mother told you she met your father—I know it. There is a bookshop on the muggle street, just outside of a wizarding pub. Despite my current social position, I do still have some connections. If you would like me to try, perhaps I might be able to learn who your father may be. If you can persuade your mother to tell you his name, I may be able to discover his identity and whether he survived the war. I don't want to get your hopes up, I just feel compelled to help you solve this mystery. I know that I have already told you this, but I feel that you have changed my life. I don't know if I would be sitting here writing this letter if we had never met. For that, I am ever in your debt. My petition to return to school was accepted, and I shall return on 1 September. I find myself quite looking forward to it and I plan to make the best of every opportunity. I think I should like to attempt to make amends for some of the wrongs that I committed in my ignorant fervor. I only hope that Harry and his friends accept my olive branch without suspicion. I doubt it, but my conscience will be clear. I do hope that this letter finds you well.

With all my love,

Draco Malfoy

P.S. I bought a Discman and LOTS of CDs at the airport. Happily, it still functions in my house. I hope to attempt a telephone next. I think I really like this Tupac Shakur. I understand that he was murdered two years ago. How unfortunate! The lyrics of his poetry are quite profound!

They apparated into the foyer at Kingsley's home, her father explaining that the house was located in a muggle neighborhood, and she should therefore only apparate directly into the house or the attached garage. Kingsley chuckled. "The neighbors tease that I'm some sort of recluse, and they would suggest that I perhaps suffer from agoraphobia if they didn't see me in the garden or walking to the corner with my post. However, you will be happy to note that your electronics do work in the house. This is not the case for many witches and Wizards, due to magical interference." Come; let me give you the lie of the land, my dear."

Épiphanie looked around as Kingsley indicated the dining room through a set of double doors on her left. A row of columns defined the reception room on her right. The walls were a sunny yellow and the furniture and draperies complemented the walls in shades of red and gold. Épiphanie was drawn to the scarlet settee with its large cushions. The furniture was arranged around a hearth with a large gilt mirror above the mantelpiece. Kingsley pointed to two sets of double doors on the opposite wall, and she followed him down the hall and into the library. The walls were lined on two sides with breakfront bookcases filled with leather bound tomes. The hearth was flanked by a large window on one side and a French door that led to stone patio and faced a large desk, laden with parchments and a well-worn leather chair. Kingsley pointed to a door on the far side of the room. "My bedchamber is just there."

She followed him from the library and down a short hallway where he pointed out the butler's pantry and a set of stairs that led down to the kitchens and wine cellar. There was also a rear entrance to the dining room. An open archway on the right led into a modest drawing room with a grand piano at the near end. This room also had a large hearth and was outfitted with traditional Georgian furniture. Although it was dark outside, Épiphanie could just make out the shapes of trees in the garden beyond the windows. There was another small library just off the far end of the room. "It is largely disused, but perhaps you would like to make it your own," he suggested. "Now, let us advance to the second floor, shall we?" They returned to the foyer and he led her up a grand staircase that landed in a wide gallery. The walls were lined with paintings and Épiphanie was astounded to discover that the subjects of the paintings could actually move and speak! "These are your ancestors my dear. Do take the opportunity to get to know them, although at this late hour, I'm sure they will be rather disinclined to engage in conversation." His voice was low as he spoke. "I thought you might like this suite. He opened a door at the end of the hall.

Épiphanie looked around the large room. The walls were a cool tiffany blue, trimmed with white crown moulding. A large bed with sumptuous satin bedding and a tufted headboard was the focal point of the room. Traditional shaded sconces flanked each side of the bed above elegant night tables. A hearth faced the bed with two comfortable-looking tufted armchairs with upholstery that matched the bed. A knit throw was draped over the side of one of the chairs and an arrangement of candles decorated the mantelpiece. A large bay window overlooked the gardens below and featured an inviting window seat with an array of cushions to match the walls. It was framed by built-in breakfront bookcases with glass doors and shaded sconces to illuminate the seat. A vanity that matched the night tables faced the windows on the other side of the room. The suite had a lavish lavatory with a deep white porcelain slipper tub adorned with silver imperial claw feet and a gleaming faucet with a hand shower that reminded Épiphanie of an antique telephone receiver. Beside the bath was a magnificent walk-in closet with double hanging areas for her blouses, skirts and trousers and separate full-length hanging compartments for her dresses, plenty of shelving and drawers for folded items, a compartmented shelf for shoes and a tufted bench in the center beneath a dainty crystal chandelier. She was surprised to find that her clothing and belongings were already sorted and stowed away.

"Ah, yes. That would be Topsy's doing." Kingsley said.

"Topsy? Isn't that the name of the slave girl from Uncle Tom's Cabin?" she asked. Kingsley gave a hearty chuckle.

"It is, but ironically, it is also the name of one of my house elves."

Épiphanie gave him a curious look and he gestured for her to sit in one of the chairs before the fire. "Perhaps I should explain. House elves are magical creatures who are immensely devoted to their masters. Not all wizards and witches own house elves. Topsy has been with the Shacklebolt family for only about two generations. You may find the concept a bit difficult to accept, owing to our history of slavery in the muggle world, but you must understand some very important things about house elves. Some families severely mistreat their elves and you will no doubt encounter some elves whose appearance is quite vile—tattered and filthy rags. Topsy has been well-treated by my family and you will see the difference between her and others that you meet largely by the cleanliness and variety of her towels, but you must never give her proper clothing."

"Why not?" Épiphanie was appalled by what her father was telling her. Ragged elves who live like slaves?

"The only mission of a house elf is to serve the needs of witches and wizards. They have their own unique brand of magic and will use it to protect you, even at their own peril. Giving an elf clothes is tantamount to setting them free, but elves consider it the highest insult to be offered gifts and payment—especially clothing. You must be patient with elves, for they tend to harm themselves quite terribly if they believe that they have displeased their masters."

"Oh, my god!"

"I know it is alarming to think, but as I said the Shacklebolt elves are well respected and treated with kindness."

"There's more than one?"

"Her brother Patches also serves the house and is my personal valet. Topsy has always been the ladies' maid, so she will attend to the majority of your needs when you are home, but you may feel free to call on Patches if you need. They live in the basement behind the kitchen pantry and generally make themselves scarce when muggles are around. Topsy! Patches!"

Épiphanie gave a startled leap when the two house elves appeared in the center of the room. They were similarly attired in linen tunics that looked to be made of old pillow cases, and one had a hem embroidered with pale flowers. Épiphanie assumed that this was Topsy. The tiny creatures bowed low and their floppy ears touched the ground.

"Welcome home, Master Shacklebolt! What can Topsy do for the Minister of Magic?" the elf in the embroidered tunic spoke first, confirming Épiphanie's conclusion.

"I am quite well at the moment, Topsy, thank you. I merely called you to meet my daughter, Épiphanie Marie Catherine Duminy de Glapion-Shacklebolt."

"Welcome, Mistress!" they squealed, bowing again.

"We is so happy that Mistress is home at last! We live to serve the house of Shacklebolt and are happy to provide Mistress Épiphanie Marie Catherine Duminy de Glapion-Shacklebolt with all of her needs!" Topsy exclaimed and snapped her fingers. The bed turned itself down and a small tray appeared on the side table with a warm cup of cocoa and plate of sugar cookies.

"Oh, my gosh! That's so cool!" Épiphanie exclaimed. Kingsley let out a hearty laugh.

"Well, that is all, Topsy. Patches. You may go." He dismissed the elves and they disapparated with a crack. Kingsley turned back to Épiphanie and stood. "Well, it is late, and we do have the press conference in the morning at the ministry. After that, Harry has invited us to Grimmauld Place for lunch. You can see the gardens and the conservatory where the owls roost tomorrow when there is more light. I am so pleased that you have decided to come here, my child. I do hope that you will come to think of it as another home." He gave her a smile and left the room.

Épiphanie gave a weary sigh. The day had been quite exhausting with the long flight and customs process. But she was filled with restless energy as she explored her expansive bedroom suite. There was a painting above the mantelpiece that depicted a garden table set for tea as if someone was expected at any moment. A small dog slept on the ground beside one of the chairs. It rolled over and panted loudly for a moment, as if responding to its dreams, then settled back into its curled position. Épiphanie laughed softly. She opened the doors of one of the bookshelves and scanned the titles. Hogwarts: A History, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. There was a series of books all titled The Standard Book of Spells. She saw that each of them was indicated with a grade level.

"Hm, These must be textbooks," she murmured. She flipped through another book titled Tales of Beedle the Bard, and lightly touched the collection of porcelain dolls on another shelf before closing the cabinet. Épiphanie returned to the table and took up her cocoa and the plate of cookies, carrying them to the window seat where she curled up and summoned the knitted throw, which draped itself over her legs. She rested her head against the bookshelf and gazed up at the moon from her window as she sipped the decadent hot chocolate.

"Damn, these elves certainly make a mean cup of cocoa!" she remarked. "Hello, world. I'm here," she murmured.

The young blond wizard standing at the library window of the grand residence on the opposite crescent of The Boltons stared up at the moon with an expression of contentment as he sipped a glass of wine.

"Welcome to your new home," he murmured.