Momento Mori

Chapter Nine: The Stars Were Worlds

Bethany and Draco hadn't spoken to one another since their disagreement at the Quidditch game. Bethany had no regrets; if she had to live with him (or his whole family, for that matter), she would not put up with the abuse they threw malignantly at Ron, Harry, Hermione, or any of their families. Her friends were more important to her than all the gold in the Malfoy's vault at Gringott's. And Bethany was alright with that. She certainly wasn't about to apologize for it, anyway.

Narcissa, however, found the discord unacceptable. One morning she had brought Bethany into their music room, where Draco was sitting on the bench, playing a piece that didn't sound familiar to Bethany. Perhaps it was a wizarding composer?

"Well done, Draco!" Narcissa congratulated him, "That piece is sounding wonderful. Saylor, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mother."

Bethany pointedly ignored him, instead watching the dust particles dancing through the air as they were exposed to sunlight from the open window. What was the word for that again? Mite? Or was it—

"Bethany?"

"Yes?" She said, paying attention once more.

"I was just saying that it would be wonderful if you and Draco would practice a song together," Narcissa said. "We have plenty of vocal music, and I think it would be a great way for the two of you to bond."

A quick glance at Draco told Bethany that he was as thrilled by the idea as she was. "Well, I wouldn't want to take away from any time Draco could be using to practice for Quidditch—"

"Nonsense!" Narcissa insisted. "I think it would be worthwhile for the two of you practice this. Draco has never accompanied anybody before, this will be new for him!"

And so that was how Narcissa had decided that every day, Draco and Bethany were to spend an hour working on some unspecified song. It was something Bethany was certain filled them both with disgust, but nothing could be done when Narcissa's mind was made.

The following day, Bethany and Draco were wordlessly searching through several files of music, looking for one that could possibly work. Many of them were in foreign languages, and a majority of them were by artists she had never heard of. Saylor, Grandley, and Fawcett were just a few she could name.

"Here's one," Draco held it up.

Bethany took it from him before handing it back with a scowl. "This is written for a bass!"

Draco put it back, grumbling something Bethany sure was unpleasant.

Finally, they managed to find a piece of music written for a mezzo soprano titled If There Were Dreams To Sell by John Ireland. All the lyrics were in English, which made thing simpler for Bethany, and it wasn't a long song—which, hopefully, meant they would be forced to spend as little time as possible together.

Only fifteen minutes had passed, so Draco took the music and began playing the accompaniment. "Why aren't you singing?" He asked almost instantly, turning around on his bench to glower at her.

"You haven't given me my notes! I thought maybe you were practicing for yourself!"

"So you want me to play your notes?"

"Yes!" Bethany said. "That's what my voice teacher at school did!"

Draco groaned. Staring at the music, he hit a white key. "This is your first note," he said. He hit another. "And here is your second—"

"You know that you can just play what is written there for a given phrase, right?" He gave her a blank look. "Look—" she leaned over his shoulder, and pointed. "The part where it says 'If there were dreams to sell/ What would you buy?' If you just play that whole part, so I can hear it, then play it with me singing, then we could move onto the next set of words."

"Well, if I'm supposed to do all this for you, when am I supposed to learn my part?"

"Once I know my part well enough, you can start playing yours," she explained calmly, but inside she was seething. He was getting on her nerves. "Your mother is making us practice every day, so I am sure you'll have enough time to learn it."

He sighed, and played the section she requested while she hummed along. She sang along, voice cracking when she went for the highest note. "You sang that wrong," Draco said once he finished, a devilish smile of satisfaction on his face.

"I am aware!" Her face had gone beet red. "I haven't properly warmed up!"

Draco shrugged. "Okay. Warm up, then." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wooden part of the piano.

Bethany shook her head. "No. Since this time is so important to you, we needn't waste it. Just play it again for me, please."

He played it again, and she sang it perfectly. They continued on. Once they reached the middle however, Draco halted his playing and said, "That last note was flat. And you are messing up the rhythm."

Bethany wanted to scream. "Can you play it again for me, please?" She asked in a level voice, refusing to betray her feelings of annoyance.

Draco sighed and played it again. She sang it back, but this time he snapped, "Now you're sharp!"

Bethany groaned. This was going to be longest summer of her life.

Over time, it grew easier. Bethany had to begrudgingly admit, Narcissa's plan had worked. They were now able to hold civil conversation once more. It became almost unspoken rule between the two of them to not mention their respective friends, and if they were mentioned, it was in passing and the other simply would not comment. Overall, the Manor became a harmonious place to live in as a result.

Bethany wrote every other day to her friends, updating them on what was going on in her life. She had managed to alleviate their largest fears, but she tried to be as honest as possible. She professed that while the family, as a whole, expressed views that were repugnant to her, they treated her well. She didn't tell them about anything Lucius or Draco had said about the Weasleys—there was no point in them hearing such vile things— nor did she discuss anything she had gleaned about Draco's private life with them. Just as their lives were none of his business, his life was none of theirs.

And it wasn't just Bethany's relationship with Draco that was improving. Narcissa and Lucius adored her, and they did whatever they could to make her happy. Narcissa would always make a point to have conversations with Bethany, asking her about her life experiences, hobbies, favorite things, and even friends. Even though she knew Narcissa disapproved of Ron, Hermione, and Harry, she never voiced it nor made any facial expressions to indicate her true feelings.

Lucius was also doing what he could to earn her favor. Nearly every night, he came home with something new for her and Draco; sweets, a book or two, even a few magazines. In many ways, Bethany reviled how obvious it was he was trying to buy her affections, but it came from such a genuine place that Bethany could not bring herself to judge him too harshly.

Each night, they all gathered at the long dinner table and enjoyed a meal prepared by Batty and Winnie. Bethany always whispered her thanks to the elf that served her, which boosted their spirits considerably.

On this particular night, Lucius wiped his lips with his dark green napkin after drinking a sip of wine. "I have some very good news for us all," Lucius said. His hand reached out to cover Narcissa's. "We will be leaving for Rome by the end of the week."

Bethany's eyes widened. She had never left the country before.

"Rome?" Draco frowned. "I thought we were going to France this year!"

"Maybe next year, Draco," Lucius said calmly. "I have business I must attend to in Rome, and I am certain you will enjoy yourself there just as much as you would in France."

Draco let out a loud sigh, slumping forward. Bethany was surprised that Narcissa wasn't chastising him for it— but she was even more surprised by his reaction. She was overjoyed at the prospect of traveling.

Almost immediately after dinner, Bethany began packing her trunk full of clothes and books.

"What are you doing?"

Draco was standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He was scowling at her.

"I'm packing," said Bethany, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

He shrugged wordlessly. "So what makes France so great?" Bethany asked, sitting down on her trunk.

"What?"

"You clearly would rather go to France than Rome. I just wondered why."

"Oh," said Draco, eyes widening. "Because the ancestral Malfoy home is in France. Malfoys didn't come here until the 1100s, and we were originally from France. Father, Mother, and I used to go every summer. Then Father got busy at the Ministry and we haven't gone on many trips since then, and anytime we do, we always end up going to stupid places like Rome."

"Rome isn't stupid!" Bethany insisted. "It was one of the most prosperous societies of the ancient world! The fact so much of it remains is wonderful!" Bethany could see that Draco was ignoring what she was saying, and added, "But I am sure France is fascinating as well. What do you like so much about it?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. We have a larger Quidditch pitch in the back, and we're more isolated out there. We usually hosted parties there, too."

Bethany tried to imagine this place he was describing, with little success. The best she was able to conjure up was a larger sized Malfoy Manor. "Well, hopefully you'll go there next year. I mean, we. I would like to visit it," she said.

Draco's spirits seemed to brighten. "So...if I asked Father to let us go to France, would you help me convince him?"

"What? No! I want to go to Rome, too!" Bethany said. "Besides, you heard him— he has to go for work."

"He doesn't have to do anything," Draco responded with another scowl. "We have more than enough gold in Gringotts. Dad could quit working at any point in time, and we would be fine. He just wants to make as many connections as he possibly can." He stepped into Bethany's room, settling against the wall. "When I own the Manor, I'm not going to work. Well, not at the Ministry anyways."

"Where would you want to work?" Bethany asked, curious. Even though she had been part of the wizarding world for two years, nearing three, she had no idea what sort of careers she could pursue once she finished school.

Draco shrugged. "I like Quidditch," he said, "that would be fun. But I probably would never get to play it professionally."

"Why not? You're a good Seeker," Bethany asked.

"Not as good as Potter," Draco spat, but unlike any other time he spoke of Harry, Bethany sensed it was out of genuine sadness. "I didn't catch the Snitch when I was up against him."

"You just let yourself get distracted," Bethany said. "I remember that game. You were too busy taunting Harry, and you didn't have notice the Snitch. And besides, it was only your first year. You have..." (she counted in her head quickly) "five more years left. As long as you focus on what you're doing, I think you stand a good chance." Truthfully, Bethany believed Harry was the superior Quidditch player. But at the same time, she had grown to have a certain affection for Draco Malfoy. Was he the most pleasant person to be around? No. But he could be a nice person, when he chose to be. And right now, he was choosing to be.

"So what do you want to be?" Draco asked Bethany.

It was Bethany's turn to shrug. "I don't know. To be perfectly honest, I don't know what sorts of careers are available for me in the wizarding world. I assume I'll end up working for the Ministry in some way, shape or form. I just don't know know what options there are."

"There's a lot of departments," Draco stated, "and that could help you narrow it down. I don't know. It just sounds boring to me."

"That's understandable."

"You could work at Saint Mungo's. I know you're good at potions," said Draco. "They have potioneers there, brewing things for sick people. Or you could just work for an apothecary."

That did sound intriguing. But how... "How do you know I'm good with potions?"

"Severus told me," Draco replied.

"Who is Severus?"

"Professor Snape," he answered. He grinned. "He's my godfather. Didn't you know?"

"I didn't," said Bethany. That would explain a great deal of his loyalty to the Malfoys. Bethany wondered how he would know them so well.

"Yeah, he told my dad we were his two best students," Draco said with a grin. "He thinks we're better than Granger."

"That's not true," Bethany said instantly. "Hermione's the top of our class. Besides, she brewed a—" She nearly said 'Polyjuice potion' before quickly realizing just who she was talking to and said, "um, a highly difficult potion last year. I helped her out, just for fun, but it was mainly Hermione."

"Well the reason Granger scores better on tests is because she practically memorizes the bloody textbook," Draco said with a scowl. "You and I though, we actually have an innate ability for the subject."

"What do you mean?"

"We're naturals," Draco said. "Your mum was good at potions, right? That what Mother always told me."

"Yeah."

"Well, so were both of my parents. Father was better than Mother, but she's not bad. And your father was the top of his class—"

"So?" She cut him off, how wanting to hear anything more about him.

"So it's all in our blood," Draco stated, standing in front of her now. "We inherited it. And being good at something boils down to more than just reading some book about it. Magic is something that you can feel inside of you, and lot of it is instinct."

Bethany nodded. It was an interesting point of view, and it wasn't one she could wholly dismiss. "You have a point, but shouldn't that mean Hermione really is better than us?If she performs better on tests and does not have the supposed genetic advantage, doesn't that mean she ultimately is better at it than we are, since she worked harder to excel at it?"

"Some might see it that way, but if it were down to you and her, brewing the same potion, and you didn't have the book in front of you, I think you'd do better at it. You'd be relying on instinct," said Draco. "What potion did you two brew last year, anyway?"

"Why does it matter?" Bethany asked defensively. She hoped he had forgotten.

"I'm just curious. Who knows? Maybe I'll have to brew it myself at some point, and I could ask you for help."

The idea of Draco asking for help seemed laughable. Bethany suspected he would rather die than ask somebody else for help. To be fair, Bethany supposed she was the same way. That was probably why Hermione was top of their class; she wasn't afraid to admit when she didn't understand something and required help. She was a better student.

"I doubt you'll need to brew this position," Bethany said.

"Oh, come on! Just tell me!" Draco whined. "It's not like I'll tell anybody!"

"You wouldn't?" Bethany quirked an eyebrow up. "Even if it meant my friends would get in trouble?"

"Well, if I did that, you would get in trouble, too," Draco pointed out.

Bethany was surprised. She didn't realize that she had somehow earned Draco Malfoy's loyalty. Was it because of who her father was, or did he genuinely view her as a friend? At any rate, Bethany found herself sighing and saying, "We brewed Polyjuice potion."

His brow knitted together. "Why would you..." His eyes widened as his jaw dropped. "That was you! In the Slytherin common room!" He pointed at her accusingly. "I knew that wasn't Pansy!"

Bethany gave him a weak smile. "Damn," she said with a small laugh. "I guess I should work on my acting skills—"

"Why were you doing that, anyway?" He asked. "And was that Weasley and Potter with you?"

"...yeah," she said with another sigh. "We— well, no, not we— they thought you were the heir to Slytherin. So I got hair from Pansy, and the boys got hair from Crabbe and Goyle."

"How?"

"Um, the boys left out sweets with a Sleeping potion in them, and I ripped out some of Pansy's hair during our fight in the greenhouse," Bethany explained.

Draco's face broke into a grin, as if he had solved some sort of mystery. "So that's why you started that fight!"

"Yeah—"

"I thought that was strange," he continued. "You don't usually get involved in that sort of thing. What about the Mu— er, Granger? Did she just brew the potion?"

"Uh... yeah." There was no way Bethany was about to tell him about her accidental transfiguration into a half cat creature. Even though he wasn't going to snitch on them, he would most certainly taunt her if he knew what had transpired.

"I knew somebody had used Polyjuice potion, and I figured Potter was behind it, I just didn't realize you were involved in it. I thought maybe Granger was impersonating Pansy."

"Nope, that was me," said Bethany. "Apparently, I wasn't as stealthy as I tried to be."

Draco shrugged. "You had me fooled, at first," he admitted. "It wasn't until you ran out of the Common Room like that with Potter and Weasley that I knew something was wrong. That, and the fact that Pansy was gone the rest of break and told me she never came back."

"I'll make a note of that," said Bethany with a grin. "Just in case I ever need to impersonate Pansy ever again."

Draco grimaced. "Please don't. That would be...just ask me yourself."

"Oh. Yeah. I suppose that is an option now," Bethany said, laughing at herself.

"That was always an option," said Draco, looking as though he wanted to roll his eyes. "You know, just because you hang out around a bunch of Muggle lovers doesn't mean I hate you."

Bethany blinked. 'I don't hate you' seemed like it was Draco Malfoy's version of 'I love you'. At any rate, it seemed like a much nicer statement than it really was. "I don't hate you, either," said Bethany, giving him a smile.

At the end of the week, the Malfoys and Bethany had left the Manor for Rome. They had taken several Portkeys, while the house elves simply Apparated their luggage to the hotel. Bethany wondered why they were bothering with the time consuming process that was taking Portkey after Portkey after Portkey when they could have Side Along Apparated with Winnie and Batty, but she supposed there was some sort of law that prevented such a thing. At any rate, it was interesting to see the streets of Amsterdam, the beaches of Monaco, and the Vatican, even if it was for the briefest of moments.

Finally, the four of them reached the outside of L'hotel dei Maghi Barbuti. "Here we are!" Lucius proclaimed, wrapping an arm around Narcissa's shoulders. "We are going to be in room 415—"

They rode up and enchanted elevator, which was operated by an elf who introduced himself as Franco. They were let out on the fourth story and ushered to a room with a gold 415 on the black door.

Bethany's eyes widened as she gazed at the luxury surrounding her. It was ostentatious, really. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, and in the corner a gilded spiral staircase lead up to another level of the suite. There was so much space...the size of the living room alone was at least four of her bedroom at the orphanage.

Later, Narcissa, Draco, and Bethany ventured out and explore the city—namely, the shopping district. Bethany seized the opportunity to buy birthday and Christmas gifts for her other friends, since Ron's gifts were already taken care of. One of the best parts about living with Malfoys was actually having money; she wanted the opportunity to show her friends how much they meant to her, now that she could afford to do so.

Hermione had recently had her ears pierced, so Bethany bought a pair of gold hoop earrings that were a fashionable look in the Muggle world as well. And of course, as it was Hermione, it only seemed right to purchase a book on Roman mythology and how it tied into wizarding culture.

Harry, unfortunately, was more difficult to shop for. Unlike Ron, who had a favorite Quidditch team he supported and Hermione, who had a hobby that she was devoted to, Harry's main interest was Quidditch. And Bethany, despite her best efforts, was clueless when it came to Quidditch.

However, she knew someone who was knowledgeable when it came to Quidditch.

Bethany, Draco, and Narcissa entered a broom shop, and Draco immediately rushed over to a display where a broomstick levitated itself. "Mother, look at this!" he said, pointing to it. "That's a Firebolt!"

Bethany glanced at the broomstick. She didn't see what was so special about it. It looked like any other broomstick to her. "Yes, it's very nice," Narcissa said.

"Can I have it?" He asked, turning around to face her.

"You better ask your father," Narcissa said. "After all, he bought you a perfectly good broom last year."

"Yeah, but this is a Firebolt! It's the fastest broom in the world! International Quidditch players are using these!"

"You'll have to convince your father," Narcissa said. "I'm not going to get involved in this."

Draco began mumbling under his breath, and Bethany suspected it was nothing pleasant. Still, she decided to follow him, and see what he gravitated to. He was, after all, a seeker— perhaps he would lead her to the perfect gift for Harry.

Bethany observed as he glanced through broom cleaning kits with a lack of interest. Eventually, he noticed she was following him. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she lied, avoiding eye contact by intently studying a scowling, shirtless Quidditch player on a nearby magazine. "I really don't understand Quidditch, so I'm just following you around until you find what you want."

He seemed to accept her answer. "You fancy Viktor Krum, then?"

Her eyes widened once she realized what he was inferring. "No!"

"I think you do," Draco grinned. "You were staring at him as if you did."

"His abs are nice," Bethany responded honestly, her cheeks flushing, "but he's not really my type." And that was true. She'd take Fred over this broody Quidditch player any day, no matter how nice his abs were. Besides, he seemed far too serious for her.

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing more. He continued browsing, and Bethany kept a close eye on what he was examining.

Finally, Draco began inspecting gloves. There were many sorts; dragon hide, faux leather, real Italian leather... "Which sort of glove is the best quality?" Bethany asked him.

"Either the leather or dragon hide," he responded, picking up the dragon hide gloves and inspecting them carefully. "The dragon hide is less expensive, and you can get that anywhere. Since Italy is known for its leather, it's less common back home, but it is ultimately more expensive."

Bethany eyed the leather gloves with interest. It would be something unique, as well as practical. "They are very nice," she commented, reaching for them.

Draco paused, and turned to glare at her. "You're looking for a present for Potter, aren't you?"

"Maybe," Bethany said, paying little interest to him.

"Well, if you are getting him those gloves, then I'm buying these." He stalked off with his new dragon hide gloves up to his mother.

Bethany shrugged. Well, she supposed that decision was made for her then.

Surprisingly, Bethany managed to find Harry's Christmas gift only a couple of days later. "You know that was a scam, right?" Draco was all but sneering at her as they walked away from vendor she had bought it from. "There's no proof good luck charms work!"

"Draco, hush," Narcissa said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I think what you selected is very nice, Bethany."

"Thank you," said Bethany, staring down at the small wooden cone.

While they had been browsing through the wizarding shopping district, a vendor had shown Bethany an array of good luck charms. There were a variety of familiar symbols, like a four leaf clover, but Bethany had been intrigued by the object shaped like a chili pepper. The vendor had explained that it was called a cornicello, and it was a common Italian good luck charm to protect against evil. Truth be told, Bethany wasn't superstitious, but she found herself handing the man four Knuts and leaving with a cornicello attached to gold chain.

And who in her life needed more protection than Harry? How many times had he faced off against the Dark Lord? He had been lucky every time so far, but it was better to be safe than sorry. She only hoped he would like it; it was an unconventional gift.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! I hope you like the gloves! I even managed to find some Italian chocolate— hopefully this is higher quality than last years chocolate!

I'm so sorry you're stuck with the Dursleys. If I thought I even stood a chance, I would ask the Malfoys to let you stay here, but that would be a hellish experience for you if they even allowed you. It's scary how often I can forget how awful they can be, because they are always so nice to me.

Since you asked me in your last letter, I'm loving Rome! There is so much to see and do here— I'm even learning a little bit of Italian!

As I said earlier, I wish you could be here! As surprisingly nice as my summer has been, it would be even better if I could spend it with you, Ron, and Hermione.

I can't wait to see you at Hogwarts!

Love,

Bethany

The Malfoys and Bethany had been in Rome now for nearly three weeks. In that time, Bethany and Draco had been supervised by Narcissa anytime they wished to explore the city. It was irksome for them, as they both felt they were old enough to wander out on their own.

Finally, after Draco's relentless persisting, Narcissa allowed the two of them to visit beach ten minutes away from the hotel, under strict orders that they were to stay together.

"Finally!" Draco exclaimed as they left the hotel. "I thought she would never let us out!"

"She's probably just worried," Bethany said, playing with the ends of her hair. "After all, you're her only child."

He groaned. "I know, but she's so paranoid! It's like she thinks I'm going to get grabbed at any moment!"

Bethany raised her eyebrows but said nothing. She wondered if Narcissa's fear stemmed from Bethany's own kidnapping. In that case, their own home had been infiltrated by Professor Snape, one of their closest friends.

Bethany and Draco wandered over to the beach. It was packed full of people, ranging from children splashing in the sea to adults suntanning. "I don't know why people do that," Bethany said quietly to Draco. "Muggle scientists have proven that it can lead to skin cancer!"

Draco ignored her, walking on. "I wish we had thought to bring our swim suits."

"Yeah." The waves from the ocean were almost lazy, and it looked lovely. Coupled with the heat from the blazing sun, today would be the perfect day for a swim. "I almost always burn though."

"I didn't realize you had been to the beach that often," Draco said as they walked down the sidewalk. "I thought you were locked up in the orphanage every summer."

"We used to go to the coast for a couple days when I was younger. That was when there were less kids, so Dana was able to afford it," Bethany told him. "I always used to go into a nearby cave. It was really cool— literally and figuratively."

They kept walking, making small talk, their gaze either on the other, the ocean, or the sidewalk in front of them. It wasn't until they passed an American couple with a Dachsund that Bethany glanced over to see the beach itself. Her eyes widened in horror as she looked away. "OhmyGod!"

"What?" Draco asked, as Bethany grabbed his hand and began turning around. "What's wrong?"

"Don't look!" She all but shrieked, her face growing warm. "That's a nude beach over there!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Don't look!" She yanked him harder when he began turning his head around.

Draco immediately began laughing hysterically. "It's not funny!" Bethany insisted, as he began slowing down. "Stop laughing!"

He didn't stop laughing, and began leaning against a nearby palm tree, with no hope of regaining composure anytime soon.

Finally, Bethany caved and began laughing as well. As embarrassing as it was, it would be better if she could laugh about it instead of feeling humiliated. And really, it was sort of funny. It would make for a good story in the future.

Once the last of the giggles finally escaped them, Bethany and Draco resumed their walking again. "You know, they really should have a sign or something for that," Bethany said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You mean like that one there?" He pointed to a sign that read Spiaggia Nudista with the words Nude beach written in smaller letters underneath.

Bethany gaped at him. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? That could have spared me from some trauma—"

"I didn't see it earlier! Besides, you weren't traumatized, you just saw a bunch of naked people laying around in the sand—"

"That's easy for you to say!"

The two of them bickered until they reached the hotel once more.

Bethany,

Dad won the lottery at the Ministry! It's going to be published in the Prophet, but I wanted to let you know firsthand. We're using the money to go Egypt and see Bill!

Hope your having a great time in Rome— well, as good a time in Rome as you can, seeing as you're staying with the Malfoys.

—Ron

"Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban," Lucius announced their final morning in Rome as he held the Prophet up. A crazed looking man with tangled hair shook his head at them on the front page.

Narcissa merely sniffed. "Why should I care?" She asked her husband, clearly on edge.

Bethany glanced over to Draco in the seat beside her, wondering if he knew what was going on, but he remained oblivious as he wolfed down his breakfast. She rolled her eyes. Typical.

"It is newsworthy," Lucius said, opening up the pages to read more. "Nobody has ever escaped before."

"I hope he is caught and put straight back into prison!" Narcissa grimaced as she stabbed at her sausage links.

Lucius's eyes widened. "I thought he was your favorite cousin, darling," he said, seeming to forget about Bethany and Draco's presences. By now, Draco was paying attention.

"He is not my cousin!"

Lucius merely nodded. "He was rumored to be serving the Dark Lord before he was arrested," Lucius reached across the table and took her hand. "Of course, I never heard such a thing until after he killed those Muggles. But someone—"

"Lucius, stop." Narcissa's eyes were closed shut. "Stop talking about him."

Lucius hesitantly released her hand, turning back to his paper. Narcissa stood up and went to her room, locking herself inside.

"Why was she so upset?" Bethany asked Draco later, as she packed her trunk.

Draco shook her head. "I don't know. I've never heard of Sirius before." He frowned. "She had a cousin named Regulus, and he died when he was really young. I think he was only eighteen."

"That's sad," Bethany said, shoving a pair of robes inside her trunk without folding it.

"Yeah. Especially since he's known as a traitor."

"What? Why?"

"Your dad wasn't pleased with him. I don't know what he did, but he did something bad. He ended up being killed for it."

Bethany felt ill. "That's awful."

Draco nodded. "Mother told me that she wanted my middle name to be Regulus, after him, but Father told her that your father would be displeased, and that's when he explained what happened to her. Nobody in their family had known what happened to him."

Bethany didn't know what to say other than what had already been said. Only eighteen years old and a Death Eater? It sounded to Bethany as though Regulus had made a rash decision to join and come to regret it. Being branded as a traitor implied that he tried to leave the cause, and paid with his life for it.

"Wait," Draco said suddenly. "Mum has some of the Black family tapestries in Malfoy Manor! Maybe we can find out who Sirius was from that!" He seemed excited, and Bethany couldn't help but feel his enthusiasm.

Once they returned to Malfoy Manor That afternoon, Narcissa immediately retired to her bedroom. Bethany suspected she was still angry with Lucius for mentioning Sirius, whoever he was. Nevertheless, Lucius followed her up to their room— which left Draco and Bethany to explore the Manor without worrying they would be caught.

Draco weaved through the Manor, finally leading her to a room she had not yet been in. "It used to be a bedroom for Muggle servants, but we just keep the tapestries in here now," he told Bethany, opening up the door.

Bethany's eyes widened. Along the walls were tapestries with faces etched onto them, depicting each member of the family with a spidery scrawl beneath labeling who they were. "This one is Mother's grandfather, and Cygnus was my grandfather—" Draco pointed towards a stern faced man with dark hair.

"Did you ever meet them?"

"No," said Draco, staring up at the man. "He died a year before I was born. See?" Indeed, Cygnus Black's lifespan had lasted from April 13, 1927—October 20, 1979.

"He must have went to school with my dad," Bethany commented. "He was born in 1926."

"Huh," Draco said, seeming to not be disturbed by the fact her father was as old as his grandfather. "Oh! There's Regulus!" He pointed.

Bethany followed where his finger was pointing. Regulus A. Black. June 17, 1961— December 8th, 1979.

"His birthday was the day I was supposed to be born," said Draco. "And he had died right before I was born. So that's why she wanted to name me after him."

That made sense. Her eyes followed a black splotch next to Regulus. "What is that?" She asked, pointing to it.

"That's what the Black did whenever they disowned somebody," said Draco. "Look, See? There's one between my Mum and her sister Bellatrix."

Indeed, between Bellatrix D. Black Lestrange and Narcissa D. Black Malfoy, it was completely blackened. "Her sister Andromeda ran off with a Mud— Muggleborn," he corrected himself quickly. "Her parents were furious."

"So... that might be Sirius up there? The one who was disowned?"

"Probably," said Draco. "It would make sense. She said he wasn't her cousin— and he isn't. Not anymore."

It seemed like such a cruel, callous thing to do, casting a member of your family our because they did not conform to their ideals. But Bethany didn't want to focus on that. "Who is Bellatrix? I've never heard your mother mention her." She pointed to her.

"Bellatrix is my aunt," Draco said. "She's been in Azkaban for years, though. She didn't renounce your dad in public like mine did. Her, her husband, and her brother in law all went to prison."

"How did he get away with it?" Bethany asked. "What if Bellatrix or someone else told the Ministry that your dad was a Death Eater?"

"He told them all he was under the Imperius curse," said Draco. "Bellatrix tried to throw him under the bus, but he had already worked it out what to say with your dad."

Bethany frowned. She had heard of the Imperius before, but she couldn't think of where... "What the Imperius curse?"

"It's one of the three unforgivable curses," said Draco. "It lets you control people into doing whatever you tell them." Bethany's blood suddenly ran cold as she remembered. Her mind wandered back to those fuzzy memories where she had told Ginny what to do, and the young girl had listened to her without questioning. "A lot of former Death Eaters used that as a defense after Father used it," Draco continued on, "which was really stupid of them. Your dad wanted mine to stay out of Azkaban, so he could take care of you, but nobody else had permission to do that. I bet he'll be furious when he returns."

Bethany felt as though her blood was running cold. She never wanted to hear about the supposed return of her father, and coupled with the fact that she might be a criminal, it was too much for her to bear at once. "Can we leave now?" She said, feeling as though all four walls of the room were about to collapse upon her. "I'm not feeling very well."

"Of course," said Draco. "Come on, let's go outside— I've got to practice Quidditch— you can release the Snitch for me."

Bethany nodded, unable to trust her voice to speak. That sounded like a good idea to help take her mind off things.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, followed, favorited, or read this story. It means so much to me to know people are enjoying my work, and you are all so kind! I've been enjoying this experience so much and it's all because of you wonderful readers!