Chapter 2:

Malfoy Manor was truly an impressive piece of architecture. Among the many acres of wilderness that wrapped around it, the building was also surrounded by ornate gardens on every side and enclosed with a wrought iron fence. The entrance to the mansion included an imperial looking archway with two mahogany doors, well beyond the size of a person, that opened at the mere presence of someone before it. Magic spiraled around and throughout the house like a protective barrier, shielding it from the eyes of any muggle that might come wandering.

The interior of the manor was just as lush, complete with century old artifacts and immensely tall ceilings. The dark Victorian structure gave the house a regal, if not cold, impression, as did the family that inhabited it. Although the home contained a great many treasures, it held secrets in droves. Dark arts lurked about in every corner, concealed just so to prevent any immediate alarm, but present enough to maintain a healthy dose of unease.

Beneath the elaborate chandeliers and finely polished floors was the cellar. Compared to the grandiose treatment of the rest of the mansion, the cellar would be more accurately described as a dungeon. There was virtually no light behind the entrance door, save for one measly lantern. Cement covered the walls and pillars of the room providing no sense of splendor like the world above it. It was here that contained Malfoy Manor's greatest secret. It was here that existed one fourteen year old young witch by the name of Ariana.

If one had asked her how she came to be in such a predicament, she would simply have no answer for them. It was the way things had always been, so much it seemed anyway. Ariana had no idea why the Malfoys hated her so, but it was as consistent as day turning into night and back again. She had long since abandoned attempting to understand the reason behind their disgust with her.

She ran a hand along her bookshelf, one of the few pieces of furniture in the room, as she attempted to decide what to read until dinner. There were no fictional novels present, but there were several textbooks along with 'Nature's Nobility: A Wizard Geneology'. If there was one thing the Malfoys approved of, it was that pureblood witches and wizards were above everyone else. In fact, Ariana often wondered if that was why she stayed alive. If she had been born anything less than half blood, she was certain Lucius Malfoy would've never tolerated her existence in the first place.

While life was far from what she would consider ideal, it wasn't always miserable. She would occasionally be permitted to roam about the grounds of the mansion once the only son of the Malfoys, Draco, went off to school. It wasn't like she could escape after all, not with the hundreds of wards surrounding the premises or the ever present gaze of Lucius Malfoy. One of the two was much more imposing than the other.

The gardens were elaborate and fascinating however. She had nearly all of them memorized by heart and could tell you exactly which hedge contained a rather tenacious white peacock that only let himself be known after dusk. As a child, she had taken to calling him Florence.

The inside of Malfoy Manor was far more restricted. Ariana had never set foot on the second floor, for it contained many bedrooms of the family. The kitchen was also a rare occasion, but the house elf didn't seem to mind her company like Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy did. As beautiful as the interior of the house may have been, she greatly preferred the outdoors. It was there, with no walls or restrictions, that she could actually pretend that she was free.

This year had been much different from the rest however. This was the year that Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban and remained at large. From the moment that word reach Malfoy Manor regarding Black's escape, Ariana was no longer allowed to set foot outside. In an ordinary household, one might assume that this was precaution or protectiveness, but Ariana knew better. Whatever Black meant, the Malfoys were not keeping her locked up for her safety. There was something else going on.

She played with the worn edge of her potions textbook that had started to peel, biting her lip in thought. Despite the escaped prisoner, Draco had still been able to go off to Hogwarts at per usual so it couldn't have been that bad.

Draco Malfoy and Ariana Black were never supposed to meet. That much was certain by the way that she was never allowed on the same floor as him and how additional attention was always cast upon her every time the Malfoy Heir was home. Nevertheless, that didn't stop the two from meeting many years ago.

It was pure accident of course. Lucius had been running late for the ministry and had forgotten to lock entrance door that led to the cellar. Apparently, curiosity had overtaken Draco completely and they soon found each other staring wide eyed at the other, completely shocked by their respective existences.

Ariana had hardly seen anyone outside of Lucius, much less someone her age. It seemed that the young Malfoy was just as fascinated that day. He wasn't kind per se, but he was intrigued. What began as a minor mishap soon developed into a habit. He would wait until his father left for work and then go downstairs to meet with Ariana, often bringing small bits of food and bragging about his life. She actually preferred it when he did both. The food filled her stomach and his words cut through the ordinary silence of her time alone in the cellar.

She wasn't sure if they could be considered friends. There were always bars separating the two and it was very clear who was the superior in the situation. Nevertheless, he was one of her very few connections to the outside world. He told her of flying brooms and Quidditch tournaments. He elaborated on the magical school he went to. He told her of all the friends he had and the rivals he had in the opposite house.

Was he arrogant? Of course, he was Lucius Malfoy's son after all. However, Ariana found she could also appreciate his subtler skills like his attention to detail and his quick wit.

It had been years since he came down to visit her, but that was likely due to the reaction his father had when he discovered them during the summer before his second year at Hogwarts. She visibly shivered at the memory and forced herself to ponder something else instead. She wondered where Dobby was these days.

Unlike the residents of Malfoy Manor, the wide eyed house elf was as friendly as one could get albeit a bit skittish, though Ariana supposed the trait came with the job. The young witch truly couldn't remember a time from before she knew Dobby for he seemed to have been ever present in her life. After every unpleasant occurrence between Ariana and Lucius Malfoy, he was always there to clean up the mess. She owed many of her healed cuts and scrapes to his magic and she deeply missed his presence.

A little over a year ago, Lucius had stormed in practically spitting with rage about losing his servant. The beating Ariana had suffered from said ire was one of the worst she had ever endured. The only peace it did bring was that Dobby would most definitely have had to have been alive for Lucius to be that angry. She often found herself daydreaming up stories about the house elsf, hoping he was perhaps taken in by a kinder wizarding family. It was a stupid notion of course. Ariana knew that switching house elves from families was nearly impossible at best. Nevertheless, she continued to hope.

Without Dobby however, the misery of Malfoy Manor seemed to drain her faster than usual and she found herself once again aching for company.

The opening of a door interrupted the girl's thoughts, drawing her eyes up to the ceiling. It had to have been the door to the drawing room for it wasn't nearly as loud as the entrance doors. Muffled voices followed, sparking her interest.

Lifting a bare foot onto one of the shelves of her bookcase, Ariana silently scaled upwards in the direction of the voices. Once fully seated on top, she peered through one of the more worn cracks she had made on previous days and squinted her eyes.

There wasn't much of a view of the drawing room, but she could make out two shadows on the back wall. One wasn't familiar enough for her to identify and the other was most definitely Lucius Malfoy. She shivered at the thought of the master of the house.

"So do what to I owe the pleasure? I can't imagine you've come all this way to discuss my son's potion grades." Malfoy's voice greeted, the faintest of annoyance eve present.

"Draco's talents lie in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. To discuss his mediocrity in potions would be a waste of time for the both of us." The second voice drawled, who Ariana immediately recognized as her private tutor. She was surprised to learn that Draco was also taught by him. It was sure to be the only other similarity they shared beyond living in the same house and fearing the wrath of the same man. She didn't know the tutor's name though, having grown up strictly referring to him as 'Sir'. The next portion of the conversation was muffled, so she leaned in further to hear more.

"What the blood hell do you mean he's escaped?" Lucius hissed. "A thousand dementors surrounding the castle and that blasted Dumbledore can't manage to keep him locked up for one night?"

"I can only assume Potter and that bloody werewolf Lupin had something to do with it." The sneer that came from the other man was absolutely loathing. While the Lupin name was new, Ariana was no stranger to hearing of this Potter fellow. A few newspaper clippings and even textbooks had mentioned the famous Harry Potter and his triumph over You-Know-Who.

However, his name was never Harry Potter in Malfoy Manor. It was always Potter, often said with such hate that you would have thought he was the dark lord himself. It was Potter that had Draco in a mood every time he came home from school. It was a name that could even turn Narcissa Malfoy's almost expressionless face into a displeased frown. And it was the name Harry Potter that had Lucius so enraged the year they lost Dobby. Ariana blinked, realizing that she lost herself to her thoughts again and missed part of the conversation.

"I will not be moving her. He has no reason to doubt her death. He's probably half deranged as it is-"

"Lucius do not be a fool. With Sirius Black on the loose, it's only a matter of time until he gets a whiff of your little secret."

Ariana pursed her lips. Sirius Black. Azkaban's one and only escaped convict. What on earth would he want with her? And why were they so apprehensive about it? As far as she was concerned, she hardly seemed to exist in the outside world.

"While I respect your caution, what I elect to do or not do in my own home is none of your business." Malfoy bit back. "I believe it's time you take your leave."

"Very well," the other man responded and Ariana listened in as his footsteps proceeded out of the drawing room. However, the stopped abruptly at the door. "Although you should know, the girl has been listening in on this entire conversation. I suggest you fix the floorboards."

Ariana's blood went cold as the man walked out. She had been seen.

She had been seen!

Malfoy's steps marched out of the drawing room as well and she knew she had only moments. After all but diving off the bookshelf, she ran off to the far corner of the cellar. Glancing about anxiously, the girl frantically began looking for cover, her heart beating a mile a minute.

The heavy door flung open and Ariana found herself looking into the rage filled eyes of Lucius Malfoy.

Too Late.