CHAPTER FOUR

The Malfoys

July 28, 1991*

A few days had passed in careful succession after receiving her letter, and Anita couldn't have been happier about it. Since the letter's arrival she was now rising with more vigor, marking down the days leading to her departure for Hogwarts.

Just a month or so, she thought, standing barefoot in her pajamas, marker in hand. It was so far away, and the anticipation of it coming made Anita all the more impatient.

She had already started to pack in her excitement, the pink floral suitcase propped open amongst the other pastel colored luggage cases. Her mother had bought the set for her the day before. Her father later followed by presenting her with several packs of batteries and a new copy of "Frankenstein", a book she had been wanting for some time but could never find in her search for muggle items.

"For your train ride," he'd said.

So the book, with all of the batteries, went into the suitcase.

Anita turned to it now and stared at it. Just one more month or so and she'd be at Hogwarts. No more silent meals, no more being told underhandedly that muggle items were a nuisance. Still, a month was a long time and Anita had a feeling that it would drag on rather slowly.

She flopped onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. What house will I even be in, she wondered to herself. Hufflepuff like Mum? Gryffindor? The idea was mind boggling and she couldn't help but imagine what her parents' reactions would be if she got anything other than either of the houses they'd been in. What if she got into Ravenclaw or Slytherin? Would that really be so bad? Would her parents be disappointed?

Her aunt's words from her letter had repeated themselves time and time again in her head the more she thought about it: Be true to yourself and you shall thrive.

Anita sat up and reached over to her nightstand, picking up the copy of the book her pen pal in France had sent her in the post. It had arrived a day after the letter, with a note attached apologizing for the delay, as she had meant to send the book with the latest correspondence.

The cover was a deep ebony while the filigree and binding stood out in glimmering silver. "Dégagez le Dreamscape". Or, "Uncloud the Dreamscape" in English. It had been written in the 18th century by a French author who had had the same problems as Anita did. Part autobiography, part self-help, Anita had been poring over the words since it had arrived and was thankful the book had been charmed to translate its words according to the reader's spoken language so she could do so.

It was a thick book, definitely not for light reading and more for an advanced reader, and Anita had marked several spots that she'd felt were most practical to her circumstances. When she had first received it, she had felt it best to save it for nighttime, when she could read it without fear of either of her parents barging in and asking questions, but she had grown careless and left it out on her nightstand on the first night. When neither of her parents mentioned it at breakfast the following morning, Anita kept it out and pored over the book when she could. Especially when it came to chapters such as 'Distinguishing Realities', 'A Clearer Sight', and 'Lucid Dreaming'.

She had tried it twice now, lucid dreaming, just to get a knack for it, but it proved more difficult than she thought, especially when it came to the funny dreams. When she had tried to sway the dreams into her favor, there seemed to be a block of some sort, as if everything had been set in motion and changing them could not be done. Still, she wanted to see it all, not just the wisps she was granted. She had also started doing the meditations and the practices the author had listed to help with her sight.

Anita supposed they were working. Almost instantaneously, the once hazy specks of color that she'd seen around people were now becoming slightly clearer. Lately her mother's had been black, speckled with a dull brown and grayish blue in a kaleidoscope-like way, while her father's was chiefly red and yellow. She had looked up the meanings of them and an uneasy feeling had formed within her ever since.

She ran her thumb over the cover of the book and, as she went to open it, Mopsey came through her door carrying a tray containing a piece of toast, strawberry jam, a soft boiled egg, a couple of sausages, and the customary glass of orange juice.

"Good morning, Miss Martin! Up early, are we?"

"I couldn't sleep." Anita feigned a smile. "Too much excitement, I guess."

"Only about a month left," Mopsey said, setting down the tray on the small breakfast table near the window. "The missus has every right to be excited. Soon she'll be off to school."

"I suppose." Anita placed the book back on her nightstand and stood up. "Thank you for the breakfast, Mopsey."

"Of course, Miss Martin. It's my duty after all." Mopsey grinned at Anita. "I was also told to tell you that Mr. Malfoy and his son will be visiting within the next hour."

"Draco is coming?"

"Within the next hour," Mopsey repeated. "Shall I fetch Miss Martin's clothes?"

"No, no that's alright, Mopsey." Anita sat down at the breakfast table. "I'll find something to wear."

"If that is what the missus desires." Mopsey gave a quick bow of her head and scuttled off, closing the door behind her.

Draco was coming. Anita started in on her breakfast, slathering the jam onto her toast and taking a bite. She hadn't seen him for months now, hadn't even received any correspondence. She supposed he had been busy. After all, he and his family did travel a lot, especially during the summer season. It would be good to see him again.

Like the Weasleys, the Malfoys were another close family that the Martins had established themselves with. And although rumors circulated that they were a bad batch, Lucius Malfoy especially, they were welcome company at the estate and Mr. Martin still payed a visit to Malfoy Manor when time would allow him to do so. Anita had asked him several times if she could go with him, but he always replied with a hasty no and told her that she wouldn't like it. "Far too gloomy, my dear." He would say.

Draco and Anita had become fast friends since they had met one another when they were both three years old. According to Anita's mother, Narcissa Malfoy had brought little Draco over for a playdate. It had been a warm summer's day and the two of them tottered around on the green grass of the lawn, laughing and chasing after a red ball that Narcissa had charmed to move a few paces away if the children got too close to it. Somehow, the young, still developing minds of the two toddlers had come together and they began closing in on the ball from both sides.

The mothers had watched as their children eagerly dashed for the toy until, rather suddenly, the ball flew into the air, causing Draco and Anita to collide and fall backwards onto their bottoms.

Narcissa and Marianne had expected Draco and Anita to start crying, but were very much surprised when the two of them started laughing. Suddenly, when the ball came down, it landed firmly in Draco's lap. He had laughed even harder and began bouncing with excitement. He managed to slowly get to his feet, albeit there was a stumble or two in the process, and he went over to Anita, who was still on her bottom.

"Here," he'd said, smiling. "For you."

The older they got, the more elaborate their games became. Often it was hide and seek in the private gardens. Both were clever in their strategies and each time often ended in a stalemate save for the time when Anita had been hiding up in one of the apple trees and her red shoe had fallen from her foot, hitting Draco on the head and compromising her position.

Over time, their games became fewer and whenever Draco visited, he asked her to go on a walk with him or even asked if they could read together. He knew that she liked to do both and there had been a few times whenever they'd be reading in the library, both huddled on the plush emerald green sofa, that she'd caught him looking at her. When she did, his eyes would flit back to the page he'd been on as if he'd been reading the whole time.

Anita smiled at the fond memories. She couldn't wait to see him.

After finishing breakfast, Anita dressed in a simple sweater and jeans and twisted her hair into a messy chignon. By the time the hour had passed, with teeth brushed and face washed, Anita made her way down the stairs just in time watch Draco and his father step out of the large fireplace in the foyer.

Her father greeted Lucius with a firm handshake. "Lucius!" he exclaimed. "It's good to see you." He turned to Draco. "And Draco. You've grown since I've last seen you, by the looks of it."

"Hello, William. Pleasure as always." Lucius looked down at his son. "Draco?"

Draco gave a small smile to Anita's father. "Thank you, Mr. Martin. It's good to see you as well."

"Draco!" Anita called out to her friend and ran up to him. "Draco, you're here!"

She watched as her friend tried his best to hide his own excitement (after all, appearances were everything), but Anita watched as his smile broadened ever so slightly. "Hello, Anita," he said.

Anita turned to Lucius. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy."

"Good morning to you, Miss Martin." Though his voice sounded pleasant, his demeanor did not change past a tight lipped smile. If one could even call it that. "Draco," he went on. "Run along with Miss Martin. William and I have some business to discuss."

"Yes, Father."

Anita and Draco watched as both their fathers disappeared down the corridor. As soon as they were gone, the both of them erupted into laughter and embraced in a tight hug.

"Draco, I'm so glad you're here! I haven't heard from you in months!"

The two of them pulled away from one another and began walking to the door leading outside. "Father took us on holiday," Draco explained. "I didn't have much time for writing."

The grass on the lawn was still wet with dew. Anita feigned a pout. "You were on holiday since February? You missed my birthday, you know."

Draco's face reddened slightly and he looked down at his feet rather bashfully. "I know. And I feel rotten about it. Mother insisted we spend time with my grandparents. Apparently Grandfather isn't doing well." He looked over at Anita. "I'm really sorry I forgot your birthday."

"Draco, I'm only teasing." Anita smiled softly at him. "I am sorry to hear about your Grandfather."

"It's alright, I suppose." Draco shrugged. "I don't really know him that well and Mother hates going to see them."

"Why?"

"I don't know. But she's…different while we're there than when we're at home." He paused. Then, rather quickly: "Sorry. That sounds silly, doesn't it?"

Anita thought back to her own mother. "No, I don't think it's silly at all."

The two of them came up to the private garden entrance. Here, Draco pulled open the wrought iron gate and gave a mock bow. "After you Miss Martin."

Anita stifled back her laughter and gave an even more exaggerated curtsy. "Why thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

The two of them continued onwards into the garden, walking side by side. Around them, the morning was coming alive. The birds sang their pleasant songs and twittered about on branches and the flowers seemed to arch themselves towards the sun.

Anita smiled pleasantly as she let her fingers run over the petals of a lilac bush. "I got my letter, by the way."

"I know. Your father told my father." Draco turned to her, smiling. "It'll be good to have another friend at school. Are you nervous?"

"About what?"

"What house you'll be in?"

Anita's mouth twisted into a slight frown and she pulled at one of the sleeves of her sweater. "A little, yeah. Dad wants me to be in Gryffindor. Mum, well…she hasn't really said anything but I have a feeling she wouldn't complain if I got into Hufflepuff."

Draco snorted at this and Anita turned to him.

"What was that for?" she demanded, playfully pushing him.

"You? In Hufflepuff?" Draco shook his head. "Please, Anita. You're too good for the likes of them. No offense to your Mum."

Anita rolled her eyes and smirked. "Sorry we can't all be in Slytherin like you, Draco."

"You say that, but you're just jealous. 'It's the best house there is.'" He tried his best to imitate his father as he delivered the last sentence.

"You're pitiful," Anita laughed. "Why do you want to be in Slytherin so bad, anyways?"

"My parents were both in it, along with everyone in my family. I guess it's only…natural that I be in it as well." Draco kicked at the ground and ran a hand through his pale blonde hair in a frustrated manner. "I guess it all does sound rather stupid when I say it like that."

"Draco-"

"It's alright, Anita." Draco sat down on one of the stone benches. Anita joined him. "Just so you know," he went on, his face now serious. "I don't think we can be friends if you got into Hufflepuff. It would be too embarrassing if we were seen in public together."

Anita frowned and narrowed her eyes at her friend. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I can't be seen fraternizing with someone from such a pitiful house. What would people say about me?"

Before Anita could say anything else, Draco's serious demeanor cracked into a fit of laughter.

"I'm sorry," he said, still laughing. "I had to. You should have seen your face!"

"You-You're-" Anita shook her head and pushed him. "You're such a jerk, Draco Malfoy!"

"Come on, Anita." Draco threw his arm over her shoulder. "I would never stop being friends with you. I'd have to be a complete idiot."

"'Have to be'?" Anita said, grinning.

"Alright. Who's being the jerk now?"

"You started it!"

The two of them began laughing once again until a voice rang out over the lawn, breaking the stillness of the morning. "Draco! Come! It's time to leave!"

Draco's laughter suddenly ceased and he stood up from the bench. "Looks like I have to get going."

"That was some rather quick business," Anita observed, standing up herself. "Usually they talk for hours."

"Yeah. Must've not been important."

"Is it ever?"

Draco grinned at her. His gray eyes widened, then, rather suddenly. "Oh! I almost forgot!"

"DRACO!" Lucius's voice sounded more annoyed.

"Um…" Draco looked to the house and then back at Anita. "Here." He thrust something in her hands before he took off running. "Bye, Anita! I'll see you later!"

"Goodbye!"

Her friend slipped through the gate, letting it clang behind him. He turned only to briefly wave at her before taking off again, not waiting to see if she waved back.

Anita looked down at the object he'd given her. It was a small envelope, slightly crumpled from being in his pocket. On the front, in blocky capital letters was "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANITA".

She tore open the envelope, pulling out a black card covered in stars that winked at her. When she opened the card, she jumped, slightly startled, as miniature fireworks popped out in front of her face. As they sparked and crackled in a multitude of color, Anita watched as they spelled out "Happy Birthday!".

Anita smiled and noticed, when she looked back at the card, that there was a note written in the card in Draco's scrawled penmanship.

"Sorry I forgot your birthday. I know I'm very, VERY late, but I'll make it up to you. Meet me at Flourish Blotts in Diagon Alley on August 1st. My parents are taking me shopping for school that day. See you then!

P.S. My father got advanced tickets to a Quidditch match for the Magpies. It's not until our Christmas holiday, if you would like to come."

Anita's eyes went wide. A Magpies match!? She couldn't believe it! Anita let out a squeal of delight. She would be seeing the Magpies! An actual match! This was amazing!

"Draco, you are the best." She shook her head and let out another squeal, jumping up and down with excitement. "The Magpies! Oh my gosh!"

Anita then took off for the house, clutching the card tightly and wearing a smile that was as bright as the sun rising in the east. August couldn't come soon enough.