I closed my eyes as soon as I got into the bed, feigning exhaustion. I heard the door close slowly, and footsteps down the hall. Another door opened, and then closed again, after a moment, and footfall down the stairs. Once I was sure that my Uncle had reached the first floor and that no other was coming up to my room, I got out of bed. I took several tentative steps around the room, gaining a little strength with each step. I was mostly sore and stiff, likely bruised from where Nagini had fallen on me, but not truly injured. I needed to move, work the ache out of my body slowly.

Where was Nagini now? I thought absently. With Tom, surely…

I was not sure that revealing so much to my Uncle had been wise, but he had taken oath, and I believed that he would protect me, for now at least. I wondered that he did not seem to know that I had married – it should have been threaded into the tapestry as soon as the bonding ceremony was complete. Perhaps he had not looked on the family tree in some time…

I concentrated on taking one step at a time, keeping my balance, walking as straight as possible. Like as not, the Lord Dumbledore would be soon coming to talk with me, perhaps with audience. I had to work on clearing my head, and gaining my composure.

It had been an emotional experience, meeting my Uncle for the first time. I had not known exactly how much of a wound remained in my heart from growing up an orphan. The look in his eyes before he had embraced me… love was there, a strong, fierce love, the love of family; it was something that I had so desperately lacked as a child. Narcissa loved me, sure, but I was never more aware of my loss than the first year spent in Malfoy Manor.

It was the September that followed my sixth birthday, and I was to begin magical education alongside the Malfoy Heir. All around me were trunks filled with my clothes and books and dolls, all lovingly packaged and placed by Ginger. I sat on my bed, watching the elf finishing the trunks. Nagini lay beside me, a great black adder nearly twice as long as I was tall. I loved her very much, just as much as Ginger, even, though she had only been with me a month. She tucked me in at night, and told me stories about great wizards and magic that she had seen. It had been Nagini who explained to me that I was a Parselmouth, and that not everyone else could understand her. She told me that her former master had been a Parselmouth, and that it was a rare gift that I should be proud of. I had asked her about her former master several times, but she would not tell me anything about him. She seemed so sad when I asked, that I was sure that he must have died.

"Why won't you come with me?" I asked Ginger again, for what was likely the hundredth time in the past few days. I was excited to be moving to Malfoy Manor, but I could not imagine what my life would be like without Ginger, or any of the other Bellthorn elves.

"My duty is to this house, Young Mistress," Ginger replied, not looking up from her work. I stroked Nagini's smooth scales absently, trying to calm myself.

"Don't you want to take care of me?"

"You is knowing that I love caring for Young Mistress," she scolded. "But Young Mistress is to become a young lady now, not a child. Ginger is only taking care of babes, and Young Mistress is not a babe anymore."

"I'm only six," I protested. "I'm not grown up. I don't want to leave you, Ginger." Tears welled up in my eyes, and my lip trembled. This was the strongest emotion I had ever felt in my young life, the first taste of grief. It was as if my sorrow was trying to choke me as it filled my throat, making it hurt, and my cheeks burned as the first drops fell from my eyes. I felt Nagini wrap herself around me, firmly, squeezing in a way that reminded me of a hug.

"Do not be sad, young one. You do not lose your friend simply because you move to a new home. You will see her again."

"I will?" I asked, staring into those acid green eyes, trusting.

"Yes."

"Is it true, Ginger? Can I still come and visit you?" I asked, turning back to the elf. She came to the bed, and Nagini released enough of me so that Ginger could wrap me in her own arms.

"Of course, Young Mistress. This is always being your home, and Ginger is always being here." She held me while the rest of the tears fell, and then pulled away. She pulled a small clothe from the pocket of her apron and wiped my face. "You is not needing to cry for Ginger, Young Mistress. Ginger is only wanting smiles and laughs." I nodded solemnly, sniffling a little, feeling only slightly better.

"There now," she said, smiling at me, "Young Mistress is crying no more. You is not wanting to meet Mistress Malfoy's family with red eyes."

"No," I agreed with a little hiccup.

"And you is needing to say goodbye to the other elves, for they will miss their Young Mistress as she will miss them."

"Alright," I said. She sent me out of the room to bid my farewells. Nagini came with me. I did not know why, but the adderess seemed to make the elves nervous. I supposed it was simply that she was so much bigger, but I knew that Nagini wouldn't hurt any of them. I thought that she was very pretty, with her smooth, shiny black skin and glowing eyes.

I made my way through the house, to the kitchens and the garden, and then the many rooms that the elves were cleaning. I said goodbye to all of them, and hugged them, and promised to return as soon as I could. Bellthorn was my home, and always would be, for I loved the house and the creatures that were a part of it with my whole being. I was still sad, but I did as Ginger told me and did not cry again. By the time we finished, Ginger was in the main hall with my trunks, and we were awaiting the strike of the clock, when the Floo to Malfoy Manor would be open to Bellthorn.

"How will my trunks get there, Ginger?" I asked, truly curious. I wasn't sure that they would all fit in the great fireplace with me, even though it was big enough for two adult wizards standing together.

"I is worrying about that, Young Mistress, not you."

"Alright." The chimes sounded, and I turned to the elf that had raised me. "I love you Ginger, and I shall miss you," I said, hugging her one last time. She patted my back with her long fingers, and then straightened my cloak, and sent me into the green flame.

Narcissa Malfoy returned to her private office. Harriet had arrived that morning, and was settling in to her new home. After a light lunch in the garden, she had sent the girl to arrange her room to her liking and unpack her bags.

The child had been impressed by Malfoy Manor, naturally. The Manor was considerably larger than Bellthorn, and far grander. Harriet had gazed in wonder at every bust, statue, and portrait – the treasures of the Malfoy family, displayed with a museum quality elegance that encouraged visitors to behave accordingly. She had loved the library, especially, which did not surprise Narcissa at all. She had told the girl that she was welcome there at any time, so long as she was careful with the books. Not that Harriet would ever abuse a book, of course, but rather, Narcissa wanted to make sure that the girl didn't happen upon any books that might harm her. She herself had not been through the entirety of the collection, despite having been mistress of Malfoy Manor for nearly ten years. There was no harm in practicing caution when it came to anything in the Manor – one never knew what sorts of artifacts had taken the fancy of a Malfoy ancestor.

Narcissa felt surprised at the pleasure she felt in having the child there. Harriet was a delightful girl. She was eager to please, quick to learn, and had a generally warm and open personality. She expressed true gratitude, so rare in a six year old, even rarer in a grown wizard. Lucius was hesitant to have the girl take lessons with Draco, but Narcissa knew that if he spent some time with Harriet that he would find nothing wanting.

Draco…

He had been upset when Narcissa had told him about Harriet coming to live with them. He was, of course, jealous of her and Lucius's attentions. It was natural, she told herself. She recalled the experience she had felt as a child when Bellatrix had been born, and told herself that Draco would adjust in time. It would be good for him to have another child to play with. Narcissa felt a pang of regret that she had been unable to give Draco a sibling. It had been a miracle that she had carried him in the first place, and the healers had declared in no uncertain terms that another child would be dangerous. Lucius was content – he had a son and heir, and so she had not failed in her duty. Still… she would have liked to have had another child. Perhaps that was why she was so attached to Harriet.

Regardless, the child was her ward. It was merely happy circumstance that she enjoyed the duty.

With a sigh, she sat down at her desk, sorting through the post. There was a small black linen envelope, sealed with green wax and the familiar ensignia of the House of Slytherin. She opened it immediately, having expected the letter.

'I require a copy of your notes. Inform me when the child is settled. I expect continued information on the child's progress.'

The Dark Lord's missive was a brief, as always. He was currently in Belgium, and likely to remain there for some months, garnering favor with the noble houses and the Belgian Ministry. Belgium was largely a neutral country, magically speaking, and while Narcissa had no doubt in the Dark Lord's skill, it would prove challenging to court the Belgians to their cause. In their favor was the fact that the Muggle Belgian government had recently attempted to force a tax on wizard landowners, without the permission or agreement of the wizarding House of Lords. The upset might be enough to convince the nobility that further contact with the Muggle world would only lead to loss of their rights.

She shuffled through the stacks of leather folios neatly arranged in the desk drawer, extracting a bulky file. These were her notes on Lily Potter's work. It had taken little effort to obtain the key to the Potter vault, considering that Narcissa was Harriet's guardian; the discretion of the Gringotts goblins was easily won, considering that the Malfoy, Black, and Potter families had been Gringotts clients for centuries. The goblins took care of their clientele, and thusly securing the influx of gold into their vaults, and held no loyalty to anyone but themselves.

The Potter's personal belongings had all been transferred to the vault prior to their placement under Fidelius. Lily's notes filled several large journals, a miriade of potions logs, experimental charms, short essays, and musings. Narcissa had sent Lily's brewing experiments to Severus over a year ago, knowing that his expertise far surpassed her own, to glean usefulness from the extensive potions notes.

What was of value to Narcissa were the pages of magical theory. It seemed that her late friend had spent years researching the nature of magic, starting with charm creation and ending with the magical origins of Muggleborns. It was a pity that Lily had never published her work - she truly had a brilliant, inventive mind, and a startling insight into the essential nature of the Light and Dark. Lily had proposed that the two branches of magic existed only in communion, and that magic itself was a balance of opposing forces. She went further, suggesting that the existence of Muggleborns came from the need to balance the magical and nonmagical populations. She pointed to data that she herself had assembled, demonstrating a surge in the occurance of Muggleborn witches and wizards in direct correlation with a rise in the Muggle population. Similarly, she highlighted decreased birth rate in the generation of wizards that followed the Muggle Dark Ages – the plague had wiped out the Muggle population, while wizards had survived, creating a dramatic increase in the ratio of the wizards to Muggles. Even the populations of magical creatures declined at the time, confirming that the magical balance worked both ways.

Her theories suggested that magic itself was almost sentient, and most definitely self regulating. If one side, Light or Dark, became overrepresented, magic compensated. The conclusion was that the frequency of powerful Dark Lords corresponded with an increase in the general use of Light magic, acting as a counterbalance. This left the rest of the Dark population weaker magically, but with stronger leaders. Lily even suggested that future generations of Muggleborns would likely tend towards Dark magic, and powerfully so. She expressed a fear, however, that magic itself was growing generally weaker.

Narcissa couldn't agree more. Current prejudice against Dark magic might prevent those born to it from practicing, which would weaken both sides. Those who naturally tended towards the Dark could use Light spells, but the effect would be much weaker than a naturally Light wizard. As more and more Muggleborns entered the wizard population, it was essential that they been allowed to foster their natural magic, not be restricted to only to the Light. Furthermore, it was necessary to keep those children in an all magical environment during their formative pre-adolescent years, in order to foster their connection with their inner magical core; the more exposure a child had to magic, the more quickly they were able to control their own power, and the more strongly their natural tendencies were felt. It would be increasingly difficult for a Dark child, raised in a Dark home, to perform Light spells, and vice versa.

At the end of the journals, it appeared that Lily had been working on a spell that would identify the magical potential of infants, so that appropriate training and education could begin even before school age. She was trying to not only be able to recognize Light and Dark, but also the myriad of subclasses of magics on both sides – divination, necromancy, elemental magic, all of it.

Needless to say, Narcissa had been fascinated by Lily's work and had spent the past two years working to complete the magical potential spell. She was nowhere near the charms mistress that Lily had been, but she hoped that with Severus's help, a combination potion and incantation might work. The Dark Lord had been pleased with her work, and in her comprehensive abstract of Lily's theories. He was using them to win over the educated minds of Light and Dark leaders alike. It was what he had been fighting for – to gain recognition for the Dark, to determine what it was that was weakening the magical population overall, and to eliminate that weakness. If they could only get the Light leaders to stop this war against the Dark and accept that they must exist together for the sake of the entire wizarding world. Lord Voldemort, she was convinced, was the only wizard alive strong enough to stand up for the Dark, and brilliant enough to lead their world back into balance.

She arranged her treatise, complete with the comprehensive population studies that Lily had conducted and Narcissa's own conclusions, and bound it with black ribbon. The ribbon had been a gift from Lucius – enchanted to prevent anyone from untying it save the intended recipient. She used it only for her communication with the Dark Lord. Completing this, she pulled out a free sheaf of parchment and penned a quick note to the Dark Lord, informing him that Harriet had arrived at the Manor that afternoon without incident, and that her lessons would begin on Monday. She provided a brief list of the subjects that would be covered by herself and Bellatrix. Narcissa knew that the Dark Lord would likely respond with amendments to her lesson plans, but she hoped that there would not be many.

His interest in the child had not faded in all these years, and despite his busy schedule, every week, Narcissa faithfully reported Harriet's progress and activities and received a brief response from the Dark Lord in return, expressing simply his pleasure or dissatisfaction with her report. She had yet to uncover the mystery of her Lord's interest in the child, but had long since suspected that Harriet might be his own daughter. Lucius vehemently disagreed, insisting that while Lily had been favored, she had never been shown such interest. Still… what other explanation was there? The child was a Parselmouth, after all. The trait could only be inherited, either by blood or magic. If she was not Voldemort's blood heir, it was also possible that he intended to make her his magical heir and had transferred some of his power to that effect. She was powerful – as a babe Harriet had shown great potential, and as she grew, Narcissa felt the child's magic more and more. Already her aura rivaled Narcissa's own, smelling strongly of vanilla and mint. She had not seen much in the way of accidental magic from the child, however, nor had Ginger ever reported an incident. This was somewhat of a concern – Draco had had several bursts of magic by age four. The Dark Lord was concerned with this as well. It had occurred to her that Nagini was there to watch the child on the Dark Lord's behalf. Narcissa hoped that with the child residing in the manor, she would have greater opportunity to observe her.

Narcissa looked up as a house elf appeared before her with a soft pop.

"Mistress is needed upstairs!" the elf exclaimed in high pitched alarm. She was wringing her hands in the fabric of her tea towel dress, anxiously darting her eyes from Narcissa to the ceiling and back.

"What is it Winny?" Narcissa asked, rising immediately, body tensing with worry.

"Is the Young Master Draco, Mistress Malfoy! He is hurting himself! Winny be trying to stop it, Mistress! Winny is a bad, bad elf for not stopping Young Master!"

"Take me to him," Narcissa commanded, grabbing the elf's hand before she could begin gnawing at her fingers.

"Isn't it wonderful, Nagini?" I whispered to the snake, taking in the enormous play room.

My bedroom was almost as big as the Rose Library back at Bellthorn, with a huge soft bed and lots of stuffed dolls on a bench that sat under the window. My room was on the third floor, and the window looked down into the main gardens. There were two other doors in my bedroom – one of which led to a bathroom that had a tub and sink all sized so that I could reach them, and the other which led into the play room.

There was a large circular table set rather low to the ground, with little stools tucked under it. Two walls of the room were lined with books, and to my delight, I found some of my favorites from the Bellthorn library within easy reach on the shelves. Another wall was covered by a black board.

'This must be where we will receive our lessons,' I thought excitedly.

"It is very nice, child," Nagini hissed. By her tone I could tell that she liked the room too, and she set off in another direction to investigate.

I walked over to the bookshelves and sat down before them, looking over the titles and deciding whether or not I wanted to read while I waited for Narcissa to come and fetch me. I pulled a few into my lap, undecided.

"Those are mine!" came an angry voice. I looked up and saw a little boy storming across the room at me. He had the same color hair as Narcissa, a pale butter yellow, but his eyes reminded me of Lucius Malfoy.

This must be Draco.

I stood, brushing my skirt in to place nervously, and put on my best smile. I hadn't ever spent time around those my own age. Was I supposed to curtsey? I wasn't entirely sure… I could barely feel any power coming from his body – not the way that adults felt to me – and it was difficult to judge where I stood in comparison.

"Hello, my name is Harriet," I said, at last, offering my hand. He stood before me, mouth a thin line, cheeks pink as if he had been running for a long time. He was an inch or so taller than me, but I was used to everyone being taller, so that didn't bother me. As he stared at me, though, those grey eyes looking so angry, I felt myself growing nervous. Was there something on my face?

"Who told you that you could touch my books?" he demanded, sounding just like his father.

"No one," I replied, unsure what I had done to make him angry. "I didn't know that they were yours."

"I am a Malfoy," he said imperiously. "That means everything here is mine. You have no right to touch anything."

"I live here too," I said, starting to get upset. I had never in my wildest dreams thought that Narcissa's son would be so disagreeable.

"But you aren't a Malfoy," he snarled, as if that explained everything. "You're just a stupid Half-Blood orphan, and you aren't allowed to touch my things!"

"Take that back!" I said, feeling tears come to my eyes. What had I done to him? Why did he hate me so much? I had never been in a confrontation in my life – I had never had a cross word with anyone. What right did he have to be so cruel?

"I will not!" he yelled, reaching out and shoving me hard enough that fell back. My arms flailed out trying to catch something to balance on, but I just ended up hitting my wrist hard against the bookshelf instead. My wrist hurt badly, and my face screwed up in pain.

"Remember that, orphan, before you come near my things," he said nastily, standing over me with his arms crossed. "You don't belong here."

I began crying in earnest, holding my wrist against my stomach.

I didn't see what happened next. I only heard the sound of something hitting the carpet and a muffled cry. Looking up, I saw that Nagini had wrapped her massive body around Draco and was squeezing him tightly enough that he couldn't move. He stared up at her in horror, eyes wide.

"Nagini, stop!" I cried, scrambling to my feet.

"This nasty little worm has no right to speak to you that way," she hissed angrily, "You are worth ten of his kind, more powerful than he could ever hope to be!"

"Nagini, you'll hurt him! Stop, please!" She gave me a look, and then let him go.

"He will never be grateful for your kindness. Learn that now, Harri."

To make things worse, Narcissa opened the door of the play room that moment. She looked to Draco first, then to Nagini, and finally, to me.

"Explain, Harriet," she said, voice stern.

"He - he frightened me," I said quickly, "I yelled and Nagini thought he had hurt me. She was just protecting me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, but I couldn't look into her eyes while I did. I hated myself for lying, but I just couldn't tell Narcissa what Draco had said to me. He was her son, after all, and I was just an orphan that she had to take care of. He would blame me, I knew, and make her hate me, and then I would have to leave.

"Very well. Winny," Narcissa said, and a worried looking house elf appeared from around her skirts, "Take Draco to his room and bring my bag of potions, please."

"Of course Mistress," the elf said, and then quickly scooped up the unconscious Draco in her arms and disappeared. Narcissa came to me, kneeling down and reaching for my hand.

"Harriet, what happened to your wrist?"

"I fell, and I hit it against the bookshelf," I replied. At least that wasn't a lie. Narcissa looked into my eyes, and I almost blurted out the truth. She was the closest thing to a mother that I had – surely she would believe me!

"Let me fix it for you," she said softly. She drew out her wand and with a flicking movement, she tapped it against my wrist. Immediately the pain went away, and I sighed in relief. "You need to be careful here, Harriet."

I nodded solemnly. "I will."

A/N: As promised, another chappie this month. I'm sure you think this isn't fast enough, but I'm rather proud of myself... Anywho, this begins one of several chapters that deal with Persephone's life at Malfoy Manor. This is going to skip around in time a bit, covering years 6-12, but the sooner I cover this, the sooner we get back to present day. As usual, please read and review.