Author's Note: Welcome back and happy holidays to all of you who celebrate them! A big thank you to TheMushroomGuild and Lillylarlar for reviewing last week's chapter and, in response to your review TheMushroomGuild: the fun is only just starting ;).
Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to let me know what you think in a review!
August 4, 1996
London
Entering the room, Sophie found it to be in the same desolate state of faded glory as the rest of the house. The walls were covered with dark wooden panels that looked if not rotten, then at least severely worn down. The dark wooden floor – similarly worn, as if too many feet had passed over it across the years – was covered by a thread-bare Persian rug in dark maroon and brown colours. The room was of a moderate size, but contained only two cast iron beds, one of which had a pile of linen at its footboard, and a small dresser. As instructed, Sophie sauntered over to the bed with the linen pile and dropped her backpack on top of it. When she sat down next to it, she found a deep sigh escaping her.
This was the first moment of rest that she'd had ever since Draco and Narcissa Malfoy had arrived on her doorstep the day prior. The first moment since she had given them rooms, planned their flight, and packed her bag. Now, given time, there were a million things to consider, a million things to figure out. Instead, she found her exhaustion catching up to her – and she was asleep within five minutes.
-xxx-
What felt like minutes, but was actually hours later, she was awoken by a knock on the door. Scrambling upright, she was in the middle of rubbing the sleep from her eyes when the door opened and Mrs Weasley appeared in the doorway. 'Remus and Nymphadora have arrived. Can you get Narcissa and Draco while I finish dinner?'
She left after Sophie nodded, leaving her to stretch her arms lazily overhead while she collected her thoughts. Right, dinner. Tonks and Lupin – were they married yet? Hoisting herself to her feet and out the door, she figured it fortunate that at least she would not be facing the entire Order at once. In fact, she thought optimistically, as she stepped onto the third floor landing, Tonks and Lupin may be the least intimidating of all Order members.
She stopped in front of Draco's door, hand raised as she realised that not just facing Order members may be intimidating. Indeed, she and Draco had not freely spoken until the prior evening, when she had brought his tea. Even then however, they had only discussed what was necessary – and much had happened since then. She swallowed, hands suddenly clam, and knocked before opening the door a crack.
The room behind it was quite similar to the one she'd been assigned, with two twin beds and a dark wooden wardrobe. Draco was seated on the left bed – whereas she had taken the right one – looking rigid and uncomfortable, as if he had settled into that position when he arrived several hours ago and hadn't moved since. At first, Sophie wasn't even sure if he had noticed her presence, until those mercury eyes shifted on her – and she wished she had remained unnoticed.
'Mrs Weasley came to tell me dinner is almost ready,' she forced out, trying not to squirm under his heavy gaze. It wasn't easy, especially when he did not move, only keeping his gaze trained on her as if he was trying to figure something out.
'I've read about the Fidelius Charm once,' he said at last, slowly, 'I know that it contains a secret, and a Secret Keeper – but I don't understand how you knew about it. And more importantly, how you knew the secret.'
'I don't think now is the time for questions; we're getting late as it is and I don't want to give them any more reason of kicking you out, do you?'
This seemed to make some sense to Draco for he stood reluctantly and, after dusting invisible dust from his jeans, moved past her. Just as he was about to step into the hall, he turned back, expression blank. 'It never is the time for questions with you, is it? You didn't ask questions when we were children and I talked about Hogwarts and Houses. You didn't ask questions when you saw our House Elf. You didn't ask questions when my mother and I turned up at your doorstep yesterday evening – and you still haven't.'
Sophie didn't know what to say to that – and fortunately, she didn't have to say anything, because Draco simply proceeded down the hall to where she presumed Narcissa was staying. Still, she couldn't quite let go of his words. She had known this moment would come eventually, hadn't she? Even in her first years in this life, when she had still believed herself a witch, she knew there would come a time when she would have to tell him the truth – whether that be that she was a Muggleborn witch, a Muggle, or even a time-, world- and body-traveller. And then today, had she not plainly told the Malfoys that she not only knew of magic in general, but was aware and even involved in some very specific and highly advanced magic? And she had done so, knowing exactly that if she did there would be no turning back. No, before she would leave the next morning, she would have to divulge some of her secrets – and, if what she knew of Albus Dumbledore was at all true, it wouldn't be just to the boy she had at one point called her only friend.
They had reached the front entrance and as they passed by the portrait of Mrs Black, soft voices could be heard from the dining room. Remus and Tonks, Sophie realized, at the same time that she realised she'd forgotten to inform Draco. Well, she could now only hope the surprise would stay his tongue.
By the time they had closed the last few metres to the door of the dining room, Sophie had allowed herself to fall back, preferring the two Malfoys take the lead in this particular encounter. As such, it was only when she was herself good and well in the room – and it was too late to run – that she noticed the icy calm that had befallen the room. Certainly, Mrs Weasley's welcome had not been a warm one, but at least had carried some emotion, even if it was only reigned-in suspicion and dislike. Now, the air in the room was so thick with coldness that even her mother's premium, stainless steel knife would not be able to cut it.
'Nymphadora,' Mrs Malfoy broke the silence at last, 'You take much after your mother.'
It was unclear whether the statement displeased her, or if it was the mere presence of the Malfoys, but the expression of the brown-haired woman at the set table was stuck in one of disgust – and with her raised nose and piercing eyes, Sophie suddenly did not find it so hard to believe she was related to the two people standing next to her.
'Draco, this is your niece, Nymphadora Tonks.'
'Just Tonks,' The woman in question countered in a beat, voice as cold as her expression. Still, it was not only her expression that made Sophie surprised to find that this was the bubbly and outgoing woman she had read about. Her hair mousy brown and her features plain, Sophie wondered if she misremembered the part where the witch could change her features at will. 'And this,' here Nymphadora – Tonks – gestured to the man seated two seats away from her, with so many scars and fresh wounds lining his prematurely aged face that he could only be one person, 'Is Remus Lupin, though I suppose you two must already know him, since he taught Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts three years ago.'
'A pleasure,' Narcissa remarked, in a voice that made most clear that it was not, and moved towards the chairs at the other side of the table. Following her example, Draco and Sophie both moved to one of the nearby chairs, though Sophie couldn't help but keep her eyes from wandering towards the two figures opposite of her – and her mind from wandering. From the large gap between them, she could only conclude that they weren't yet a couple – and Sophie vaguely recalled reading how Lupin had kept Tonks at a bay for a long time, thinking the witch deserved better than him. Still, they were here, both of them, which had to mean something.
Suddenly, she noticed that while her gaze had lingered on Lupin, his tired, but keen green eyes were carefully observing her. She quickly averted her eyes, and cleared her throat uncomfortably. 'So where's Mrs Weasley?'
Just then, the dining room opened behind them and in came the witch in question – though instead of her previously guarded expression, she was now wearing one of clear unease. 'I am sorry to keep you waiting. Arthur Flooed to tell me there has been an emergency at the Ministry, some sort of breach of secrecy near Bath, which will keep him late.' Sophie's head shot up at this, something churning in her gut, 'He was supposed to be at the Burrow for dinner with the kids but… it seems we have some additional unexpected guests.' With those words, she threw a warning look behind her, before she stepped out of the doorway. And in filed four figures.
August 4, 1996
London
The first to enter was a lank boy with unruly black hair. As he stepped into the room, Sophie noticed his green eyes were narrowed at Draco behind his round glasses, and she knew without spotting the lightning bolt-shaped scar behind his mess of hair who he was. The boy behind him was taller, with long limbs that seemed to get in his own way, but his truly defining feature was the mob of bright ginger hair on his head. Like the first boy, his eyes were trained on the boy at Sophie's side, and his freckled face was coloured red. Next followed two girls: the first with bushy brown hair and the second with the same ginger hair as the second boy. Again, there was no uncertainty as to who they were.
They stood next to Mrs Weasley for a moment, before slowly approaching the table and – all except Hermione – without taking their eyes off of the Malfoys, sitting down. Mrs Weasley then also sat herself at the head of the table and after a wave of her wand, said 'Now that we are all present, let's eat.'
As silence fell over the table, Sophie suddenly – and perhaps a bit belatedly – found herself struck by how odd a situation she found herself in. For many long years, she had wished these three people, and perhaps to a lesser extent Ginny too, would be her friends. She had wished to join them on their adventures, had dreamt of sneaking past Fluffy, freeing Sirius, winning the tournament, and destroying the Horcruxes. For many years, she had known everything and anything there was to know about them. She knew where they were born, what their full names were and what the names of their parents were. She knew where they had grown up, where they went on vacation (if they went at all), and what at least two of them saw in the mirror of Erised. She knew what they smelt when sniffing the Amortentia Potion, who was their first crush, and how they would name their future children.
She was for a moment distracted from these thoughts when a stack of four extra plates and cutlery, shortly followed by several hot looking and delicious smelling dishes, came floating into the room. As she watched these dishes seemingly put themselves on the table, Sophie could not help but gape at the first actual feat of magic that she witnessed. Sure she knew of the charms that protected this place, could probably beat some first and even second year Hogwarts students in the naming and incantations of spells, but to actually see it – even when it was something as simple as levitating food. Well, that was something else altogether.
'Don't stare at it – tuck in!' Mrs Weasley urged, in that motherly way that reminded Sophie that this was the Molly Weasley she had read about.
A clanging of silverware and quiet "excuse me's" and "could you pass me the potatoes" followed as they all helped themselves to the mashed potatoes, roast lamb with apple sauce, and stewed carrots. Then, as everybody sat back in their seats with a full plate in front of them, silence once more fell over the table – and Sophie once more noticed the not-so-subtle glares that Harry, Ron, and Ginny were throwing in Draco's direction. Hermione was only a little better with the occasional scrutinizing glance, as if he were a puzzle that she couldn't solve. Almost proud of him for not acting like a total douche, Sophie was glad to note that Draco kept his eyes fixed on his plate.
'I didn't know Voldemort and his followers were a fan of Muggle football, let alone of Tottenham.'
Everyone stopped eating at that seemingly innocent comment, delivered with such spite that Sophie already knew who had spoken before her eyes fell on the Boy-Who-Lived across the table. His green eyes were blazing, and he was leaning forward as if he was ready to jump over the table at any minute. And she realized he was; Sirius Black had been dead no more than a month, a month since they got cornered by Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic. By Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. She should have felt understanding, even pity. Instead, indignation filled her chest – and it quickly turned to anger at his next words.
'Tell me, do you watch the matches before or after torturing Muggles for sport?'
'Leave him alone, Harry Potter,' she found herself saying, through gritted teeth.
'Make me.'
'Really, Potter? You've been in the same room what… 5 minutes, after Mrs Weasley surely told all of you four Gryffindors to keep your calm, and you're ready to pull someone over the table?'
'Just give me a reason, and I swear I'll do it, Malfoy.'
'It seems you already had a reason before you entered the room. Tell me, is this because my aunt killed your godfather?'
'Malfoy, you slimy…-' Ron started, growing red in the face and standing up.
'Silence!' Mrs Weasley yelled, waving her wand and making Ron's chair scoop him back into a sitting position. 'Silence, all of you. Ron, Harry, I had really expected better from you – and I expect you to do better now. I will not hesitate to send either of you – any of you; that includes you too, Draco and Sophie – to bed without dinner.' Here she gave each of them a pointed glare.
'Now, as I indeed already explained to you in the kitchen, Mrs Malfoy and Draco are staying here under the expressed wishes of professor Dumbledore, who will himself visit early tomorrow morning. I expect you to heed his wishes and refrain from tearing each other apart at least until after his visit. Understood?'
They all – begrudgingly – murmured their agreement, although that did not stop Ron from throwing another nasty glare across the table. Dinner resumed its normal course, and for a few minutes, Sophie thought she would actually have a moment's peace.
'I don't remember seeing you in any of my classes. Tell me, what House were you in?'
It took her a moment to realise Lupin had spoken to her – and when she did, she took a moment longer to leisurely wipe her mouth with a napkin as she formulated an answer in her head. 'Oh I didn't attend Hogwarts,' she smiled, in what she hoped was a unassuming way. Sophie took up her fork again, spearing a carrot as she watched through her lashes as the former professor nodded slowly.
'I don't see why all wizarding families insist on sending their children to Hogwarts. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are just as well – if not better,' Narcissa said, in a manner that suggested she strongly believed in the latter.
Not much was said after that, and Sophie found herself sneaking glances at the Malfoy matriarch. While she liked to believe her own white lie to have done the trick, she could not argue that after Narcissa had so innocuously implied that she had attended either of the other two European wizarding schools her presence had seemingly been accepted. It was a very Slytherin thing to do – especially since Sophie was reasonably sure that the woman knew her to be a Muggle. Very Slytherin indeed…