Celeste Malfoy: Homeward Bound

by Moxie

Sequel to Celeste Malfoy: The Wild Child. A year has passed... now, where to stay the summer?

4. Homeward Bound

Celeste sighed as her father yelled into her ears. Draco was right; Mr. Malfoy had been less than pleased at his daughter's return.

I wish he'd hurry up. I'm getting a headache, Celeste thought idly. I just went out for a couple of hours. Is it my fault that I can't stand this madhouse he calls his home?

Glancing by Mr. Malfoy's rages, Celeste saw that a window was open. The outside of it was clear and blue. Inside it was dull and gray. Unless you could count the colorful words that spilled out of Mr. Malfoy's mouth, there was no tangible color, anywhere, so it seemed to Celeste.

Rage surged though her veins like a powerful current. I want out! I want to appearate and be somewhere else! I want to go....to go....

Her mind was about to spit out the word 'home', but she couldn't think how to pronounce it. That was one of the words that had lost all meaning to Celeste. Along with 'color', 'happiness' and 'love', 'home' had no meaning. They were just letters printed out on paper that sounded pretty in poetry and stories. Here, at least, they had no meaning to her whatsoever.

In one ear and out the other, her muse rattled on, as Mr. Malfoy kept on berating her. Celeste wasn't really hearing the words that he was saying to her. She could see the angry facial expressions that played over her father's face like acrobats, and she could hear the tone of his voice, but no words.

Oh Mickey, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind....Hey Mickey!

Celeste just stopped herself from giggling by clenching her fists tightly and biting her lip savagely.

It's amazing how at times when you're supposed to be listening and ashamed, that's when ridiculous songs from the eighties pop in your head, she thought.

Taking a deep steady breath, she looked her father squarely in the eyes and waited for him to run out of hot air.

# # #

The eye in the storm soon fell upon Celeste and her father. Mr. Malfoy had yelled himself hoarse, and now stood staring at his daughter.

Clear blue eyes locked on his own - steadily, almost impudently, as lips were sealed in a bland, non-expressional stance. She didn't seem scared or fazed in the least by his yelling. Quite on the contrary, she looked bored, like the only reason she was listening to him scream was because she had nothing better to do.

If she had cried and cowered away, Mr. Malfoy might almost have had more patience with her. He was a rather domineering person, and he liked to be in control. It was easy to manipulate people when they were scared of him. It was a lot harder when the element of fear was not there, and it obviously was not there in Celeste.

It was one thing to yell at somebody and have him or her yell back. That meant that you were at least getting some emotional response from the other person. It was quite another when you yell at someone, and they don't do anything except stare placidly back at you. Mr. Malfoy found this worse than arguing with his headstrong daughter. Staring contests were not how he liked to spend his time. Finally, Mr. Malfoy lost his temper to the point where he could no longer control it.

The slap echoed throughout the halls, leaving an eerie note to ring in the silence.

# # #

That was the one course of action that Celeste hadn't expected. Yelling, yes. Getting so angry that her father's face went red, yes. Physical interactions, no.

Letting out a slight wail of agonized surprise, Celeste gently clapped a hand up to her left cheek, which was smarting with pain. Her head started to throb with anger, and her eyes threatened to spill over.

No! her mind cried. No, no, no, no, no! Don't cry! That's what he wants!

It was very hard, fighting the instinct to cry and run away while keeping composure, but by some means of willpower, she managed to do it.

Forcing her head up, she glared at her father with all of the strength she could muster. This would be all over soon. All she had to do was live through it.

# # #

Mr. Malfoy stared aghast. What was the child made of? The average person would have been completely drained of any spirit or willpower by now. He looked at Celeste curiously.

Slightly bloodshot eyes with ice-cold pupils looked back at him defiantly. Her normally pale skin was tinged red all over, and she was occasionally flickering yellow. Lips were set in a stubborn pout, and fists were clenched so tightly that a trickle of blood was running down her palms. Mr. Malfoy had never seen anything like it.

Anger resumed its course in his veins. "Leave. Now," he ordered, pointing to the doors behind Celeste with a finger that trembled with wrath.

Celeste narrowed her eyes. "Gladly," she said snappishly, whirling on her heel. She slammed the door behind her with such force that a little china figurine tipped off of the mantelpiece and shattered on the floor.

Mr. Malfoy stared at the broken china bits for a moment. Then he swiveled around and stalked out the other door angrily, slamming the door shut behind him.

# # #

Draco had been hiding out in his room while Celeste and Mr. Malfoy were having another confrontation in one of the many parlors in the manor. Unlike his sister, he was terrified of his father when he was angry, and thought it best to keep out from underfoot.

There had been silence for five minutes, and Draco was on his way to thinking it was safe to come out.

Whoom! Crash! Whoom! Smack!

These odd sounds were not normal sounds for an argument, not even an argument between Celeste and Mr. Malfoy, Draco noted immediately. They were coming from the northern wing of the manor, where all of the gallery objects were.

Curious, Draco trotted out of his bedroom and twined around numerous hallways and stairwells before arriving in the art gallery.

Whoom! Smack! Whoom! Bong...

Looking over to his left, Draco saw a golden blur ravaging the hallway.

Whoom! Crack....

Celeste swung her staff as hard as she could into a tall urn, shattering it. Draco stared open-mouthed as servants came to watch the spectacle. Some of them actually started cheering her on.

"That's the last time that I'm gonna have'ta clean that vase, it is!"

"No more dusting crystals for me!"

Celeste picked up a large gem that a statue was holding, and threw it into an empty picture frame, tearing a hole in the canvas as well as breaking the gem in two. It was at this moment that Draco noticed that she was blazing an eye-smarting yellow.

"You'd better stop her," came the gravelly voice of Ampala. "She's going to bring the villa down around our ears if you don't."

Forgetting totally that he was talking to a servant, Draco whimpered briefly as he watched Celeste behead a statue. "Why me?" he whined.

"Because you're the poor bloke that's related to her," Ampala answered crisply.

Grumbling, he stepped out into the line of destruction that Celeste had created in her wake. "Celeste!" he cried. "Celes-"

He had to drop to the floor as the staff 'Whoomed' over his head. Narrowly missing being decapitated, he rolled over, and Celeste firmly planted her staff on his stomach, preventing him from getting up or going anywhere.

"WHAT?" she half-snapped, half-screamed at him. Looking up, Draco was quite frightened to see how crazy-looking her eyes appeared.

"Calm down!" he cried. Celeste took the staff from his stomach and whacked at a pillar with it.

Whoom! Slap!

The pillar tumbled to the ground in fragments. Whirling around, she faced Draco again.

"MAKE ME!" she shouted in his face, starting to glow a brighter yellow. Sensing that he was treading on extremely thin ice, Draco tried proceeding with caution.

"I don't think that tearing up the manor is going to do you any good!" he pleaded with her. Celeste glared daggers at him, and raised her staff. For a moment, Draco thought that she was going to hit him with it. Instead, she thumped it into the ground.

"IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER!" she bellowed. Draco winced as her voice reached its most aggravated peak. He didn't say anything else. Celeste was just as dangerous (if not, more than) his father when he was angry.

Celeste stared at him, feeling anger ebbing. "Get up," she ordered him, offering him a hand so he could get off of the floor. Draco accepted it, and Celeste nearly yanked his arm out of his socket pulling him up.

Draco looked around incredulously at the destruction that Celeste had done.

"It looks like this place was ravaged by a bloody wind tunnel," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Celeste picked up a large chip of what used to be a Chinese platter and sighed. "I lost my temper."

"That," Draco said decidedly, "is probably the biggest understatement I have heard in all my fourteen years."

Celeste blushed slightly. Draco noted that her left cheek seemed to be redder than normal blushing would permit. He sighed.

"You got hit, didn't you?" he asked. Celeste, who was kicking shards from a crystal figurine around, looked up.

"Hmmm?"

"Your cheek. You got hit."

Celeste put a hand up to her face. "Yeah. Not a pleasant experience."

"Well, I didn't expect otherwise."

Celeste shook her head, and smiled a little bit, dropping a crystal fragment onto the ground. It fell with a tinkling sound as it shattered a second time. She walked over to the tiny window and gazed out at the blue sky sadly.

"I want to go back to the farm, Draco. I can't stand it anymore," she blurted out, shaking her robes distractedly. "This place is... well, smothering. Stuffy. Oppressive. You may like it, but I don't fit in."

Draco opened his mouth in protest, but then his common sense butted in.

She's right. Isn't she? You're not happy, Father isn't happy, Mother isn't happy, and Celeste isn't happy. Is it worth the breath to argue?

"I suppose that you're right," he grudgingly admitted. Celeste looked at him oddly. She had expected a debate for her to stay.

"This has been nothing but a disaster since it began," he continued, joining his sister at the tiny window, feeling a breeze ruffle his hair.

"Amen to that," Celeste agreed.

"You should at least leave on a good note," Draco pushed. "Stay until next Sunday. It's Friday now. Try and get along with our parents."

"Our parents?" Celeste asked with a side-glance at Draco. "More like your parents."

"What? They are too your parents."

"Biological, yes. Emotional, no. They hate me, and I must admit, I don't have much of a fetish for either of them."

Celeste leaned out the window and stretched her arm out. When she pulled it back in, there was a large black crow - which Draco now knew was Renegade - perched on her finger. Celeste ran a finger down its black feathers and crooned to it softly. Nightshade and Sunsmear found the hallway and looked approvingly at the destruction that had been done. Trying out their tails, they toppled a couple of statues and crushed the fragments of porcelain and crystal on the ground into dust. Then they got bored and walked over to Celeste.

She looks like a walking menagerie, Draco thought. In fact, she's part of that menagerie. This is a manor, no place for animals. Celeste's part animal herself....Father hates animals.

Draco sighed and scratched the back of his head. This would be best for everybody. So he hoped.

# # #

Synthia had ransacked Craggle's knapsack and had dragged out the magicked map that she herself had worked on for three hours. Unrolling it harshly, she slapped it on the ground and piled rocks on the ends to keep it from rolling in on itself.

She was so angry that she was seeing red spots explode in front of her eyes. She wanted blood. The magic didn't matter anymore. There were other beings that she could manipulate easier and use their powers. She just wanted this girl wiped off the face of the planet.

The map fizzed into focus, and Synthia squinted at it. It was a view of the London metropolitan area, with zillions of black dots clouding the space. It took her a couple of minutes, but she finally located the four green dots that were the Malfoy family, and then the one dot with the goldish haze around it.

Looking around, she shifted her large robes around and mussed with her greasy black hair, wondering what to do now. Catching a glimpse of her broken wand, she scoffed. There was only so much you could do with a snapped wand. She needed real power.

Making sure that Snare and Craggle were still out, Synthia shuffled over to the other side of the cave and dug under a pile of spellbooks until she found the one she needed.

It was a small, palm-sized book, a dictionary on magical terms and uses. The book was a tired brown color, and was so generic that nobody would think to give it a second look.

Opening the cover, one could see that the book had no pages. Instead, it was a velvet-lined box that was disguised to look like a book. Inside of the box was a ring.

It was a large ring, obviously meant for a male wearer. The band was golden, with all sorts of strange and exotic dark spells carved into the sides for extra protection and power. The gem in the middle was a split crystal, into a wheel of clear, green, royal purple and jet obsidian. The entire thing shimmered with eerie magic, magic that was never meant to be used at all.

"The Grindelwald family heirloom," Synthia murmured to herself, regarding the ring in silent revelry. "Meant to be used in an emergency only," she whispered.

This was the one and only thing her family had left her, on the day that they were to be taken to Azkaban; her mother leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Sinny, they know about us. Sinny, do you hear me? I want you to take this ring, and those two servants of yours, and go far, far away. Far away, and don't come back! Never come back, do you hear me? Carry on the legacy of the Grindelwalds, and don't come back," her mother brusquely ordered.

Synthia had never really liked her family that much; they weren't exactly a loving household to be brought up in. But all her life, Synthia had felt a compelling need to avenge her family from behind their bars in Azkaban. Although she was quite sure that her family was now stark raving mad from the hellish visions that the dementors put them through, Synthia wanted to make them proud.

Pushing all other flashbacks out of her mind, Synthia slid on the ring.

A brilliant flash of color, a slight explosion, and Synthia felt a burning sensation erupt in her stomach. Gasping, she clutched her throat and slumped against the wall of the cave. Power filled every pore in her body, seeping into her bloodstream and mingling with her essence. Pain came along with the power, and she thought she was going to die with the raving fire that seemed to be eating her from the inside. For a moment, she was sure she had died, but then it all stopped.

Suddenly, Synthia felt lightheaded and fell backwards in a dead faint.

# # #

"Question. Why do I have to stay until next Saturday? That's rather long, don't you think?" asked Celeste as she kicked the shattered fragments of a vase into a pile.

"Because there's a socialite gathering here next Friday. I'd imagine you'd want to stay for that," Draco replied evilly, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Celeste jolted her head up so suddenly that she smacked the back of her cranium on a low-hanging part of the ceiling.

"Socialite gathering?! You mean a formal party, don't you?"

"Yes."

"No way," Celeste protested, rubbing the back of her head vigorously. "I don't do parties. Unless it has the word 'birthday' in front of it, and I get to shove chocolate cake down my throat."

"Come on, Celeste," Draco sighed, exasperated. "You're being so hard to get along with. I'm at least trying."

"What do I have to do?" she asked tiredly. "I don't have to get up and crochet, or something, do I?"

"No, stupid," Draco groaned. "You don't sew at social gatherings. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty."

Celeste laughed, and Draco looked up. "What's so funny?"

"I bet you just love that, pretty boy. Do you get dressed up in frilly dresses and sip tea with the other debutantes of your age?"

"Oh, shut up," Draco snapped. "I swear, I'm almost glad you're leaving."

Celeste walked over and slung an arm around his shoulder. "Not half as glad as I am to leave. Now, you'll have to show me your collection of patent-leather slippers and panty hose..." she trailed off, laughing so hard that her lips wouldn't form the rest of the words.

Draco sighed.

# # #

When Snare and Craggle revived, they noticed a definite change in Synthia's demeanor. She was quiet most of the time, very distant, and at times, almost seemed to glow with an unearthly radiance.

"Sssshe sssseems almossst...I don't know, ethical or sssomething," Snare whispered to Craggle, who nodded.

Synthia sat on a stone, looking into a cracked mug. The mug had some sort of green potion in it, and it burbled and frothed in the cup. Slowly, she tilted the substance up to her lips and began carefully gulping it down.

Craggle and Snare watched nervously as Synthia's body spasmed several times, and a green fog enshrouded her. When the fog dissipated, Synthia sat there, and was gripping the mug so hard that it broke.

Mechanically, she rose and turned to her subjects, and eyed them coolly. "We leave next week," she said robotically before sweeping down the long cave.

"Leave for what?" asked Craggle. Snare shrugged. There was no plausible answer for the way that Synthia was acting these days.

"I don't know, Craggle. I don't."

# # #

Celeste signed her name to the letter with gusto, and handed it to Renegade, who she appointed as her messenger.

The letter was an important one, asking the Kormics if they would mind if she came back to finish out the rest of the summer. She was sure that they would agree. At least, she hoped they would. Celeste thought that she would die if they said that they didn't want her to come back.

--Don't lose that letter, Renegade. It's important,-- Celeste said to the crow. Renegade saluted smartly and flapped out the open window.

Celeste looked out her window. If there was one thing that Celeste honestly and truly liked about Malfoy Manor, it was the view of her room.

It was one of the highest rooms in the house, so she had a bird's-eye view of everything. Quaint cottages, sprawling mansions, and regular houses dotted the ground here and there, and grasses waved lazily in the warm wind that tousled about. The sky was clear and blue, and somewhere, a robin chirped happily. It was as if the world was saying, 'What took you so long? Come back outside, where you belong!' Life was perfect.

She was exaggerating. Life is almost never perfect, but Celeste felt closer to perfect than she had in a long time. Knocking the windows all the way out, she climbed up on top of the desk, tipping over the inkwell. Grabbing the windowpane, she leaned out as far as humanly possible, breathing the sweet harmony of the outside world.

After three minutes, Celeste noticed something-bright red that was hurtling through the air. Leaning back in, she adjusted herself so she could get a better look at it. In a few minutes, though, she didn't need to squint.

A blaze of fire streaked by her, and clattered on the desk. Celeste looked down at it.

It appeared to be a bird of some sort, that was carved out of fire. It flapped its wings, and a burst of color so dazzling it hurt Celeste's eyes appeared. Wincing, she looked at it again, reached out to touch it, but then realized that it might not be the best idea to touch something like this. The oddest thing was, was that Celeste wasn't at all frightened by this odd occurrence.

The bird squawked, or at least tried to. The only thing Celeste heard was an odd ringing in her ears when it chirped. Finally, it preened its left wing, and hopped nimbly onto Celeste's arm.

Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu, it said.

Celeste was now hopelessly confused. First, an odd firebird appears out of nowhere, and now it was saying mumbo-jumbo things that made no sense whatsoever. She tried to communicate with the firebird, but suddenly, she seemingly lost all ability to think.

Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu, the bird proclaimed urgently into her mind, as if in a hurry.

Unbeknownst to Celeste, she had gone into a totally frigid state from the moment the bird had touched her. Her body glowed with red radiance, and in the back of her mind, she dimly heard a scream - a human scream - but the rest of her paid no attention to it.

The next thing she knew, her arm was being gripped roughly, and she was shaken out of her trance. The majestic bird riveted Celeste with its stare one last time, before disappearing into thin air.

Celeste had been sitting on her haunches, and immediately fell over from lack of balance. Landing roughly on her forearms, she winced and looked up.

Draco, Lucius and Abigail Malfoy were looking at her with something akin to awe and stupefied fear on their faces, as Celeste stared back at them.

"What did you do?" asked Mr. Malfoy, with a rasping sound to his voice. Celeste's brows furrowed angrily.

"I didn't do anything. The bird just kind of came in and landed on me," she snapped. Mr. Malfoy grabbed her wrist and yanked her up to a sitting position roughly.

"Then who did that?" he asked, pointing to the walls with his free hand.

Celeste looked around, and gasped. All over the white walls, and the dark green ceiling were written the words 'Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu', hundreds of times. Thick writing, thin writing, loopy curved writing and blocky printing all over the place.

"I-I-I didn't do that!" she cried in horror.

"Then who did?"

Celeste didn't know what to say to that. "The bird musta," she sighed.

"A bird wrote nonsense words on my walls?!" Mr. Malfoy asked, starting to get angry.

"It could've. Look, I don't know, and neither do you. Lay off!" she sneered at him, hoisting herself off the table and leaving the room, with the rest of the Malfoy family staring after her.

# # #

There was a mansion in the desolate landscape of sepia and gray. Celeste ran to it, shrouded in a long white dress and white-patent slippers. Her lungs burned like fire, but she wouldn't stop running.

The mansion doors opened magically for her, and Celeste ran in. As soon as she stepped in the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her, the slam echoing in the empty, pitch-black halls. There was a sound of a lock locking behind her, and that echoed too.

Fighting a sudden rush of panic, Celeste threw herself against the doors, and tried frantically to reopen it. The heavy, large doors wouldn't budge. She screamed, but her throat made no noise.

Turning tail, she fled down the slick marble hallways, running through the darkness, until she found another door.

Opening this one produced a brilliant white room, with hundreds of people swirling around to a slow waltz, all dressed in icily white ballroom attire. A butler in a snowy white tuxedo bowed to her and offered her a drink, which was crystal clear.

Celeste opened her mouth to say 'No thanks', but again, she couldn't hear her own voice. The butler, however, bowed and walked away.

Celeste started pushing her way through the crowd, trying to find a way out, and maybe trying to find somebody, she wasn't sure. The dancers, however, paid her no attention to her and kept on dancing to the slow, eerie music.

Suddenly, a young girl that appeared about her age intercepted her search. Unlike everything else in the room, she was everything but white and pale.

Greasy black hair fell to her mid-back, and cold, hard blue-green eyes looked her over maliciously. She started to laugh, a hard, high-pitched laugh that actually started to shake the white room. Soon, the room and the ballroom and all of its dancers shattered like glass before Celeste's eyes.

Celeste was now standing in what looked like a warzone. The sky was a dark gray, fire was on the horizon, and a wind picked up. It started to rain.

Rubbing rain out of her eyes, Celeste looked around. Bodies were strewn all over the place. Gathering up what was left of her courage, Celeste looked at the bodies.

Rolling over the first body, Celeste found that it was Katelin Kormic. Her brown hair was dirtied and matted with blood, dark fingers of the ominous crimson liquid streaked across her face. Her eyes were open, and glazed over in death.

Her voice made the workings to scream in horror and anguish, but again, she couldn't hear herself scream. Looking around, she saw the other bodies.

Martin and Cindy Kormic, Draco, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, Elizabeth, Carl, Matt, Suzy, Lindsay, Kevin, Mr. and Mrs. Drosh, even Nightshade, Sunsmear and Renegade were lying there motionless.

Celeste made to scream again, but no sound came out. Looking down at herself, she saw that the white dress she wore was torn and otherwise ravaged, her slippers were torn through, and she was covered with blood.

The laughing started again. Celeste turned around to see the girl from the ballroom looking gleefully at the destruction before her, which she had created. Seeing that Celeste was still alive, she pointed her wand at her, and muttered something.

The rain slapped against Celeste's uncovered limbs like whips. She panicked. She shouted something, but didn't hear it. Again, she tried her voice. This time, she heard herself loud and clear.

"Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu!" she cried out.

Her voice cracked like thunder over the rain and spells and evil. It cut through it all like a knife. Suddenly, she felt pain in her side.

Looking down, she saw that the spell from the girl had hit where Snare kicked her earlier. Looking blearily up at her killer, she saw that she was gone.

Blackness covered her awareness, and the world ceased to be.

# # #

Slam!

Celeste rocketed up in her bed, awakened by the sound.

It was raining and very windy outside and the windows were thrown open by the driving rainstorm and the angry gales that were beating at the house. Celeste eased her way out of bed and made over to the window.

Slamming it back shut again; Celeste slumped against the wall, breathing heavily. That dream had been so vivid it was scary. She wasn't one to believe in dream meanings, and predicting the future, but this had been a different experience all together.

"Just a dream....all a dream..." she whispered to herself, but the sound of her voice echoing around the room just made her heartrate increase.

Trying to shake it off, Celeste hobbled back to the bed. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the summer, she pulled up the heavy green blanket along with the light one she had been sleeping under. Although she wasn't really sure if her body tremors were caused by coldness or not, the heavy blanket gave her an increased sense of security.

Curling up into a tight ball, Celeste tried to go back to sleep. After tossing and turning about for hours, so it seemed, she fell into a fitful half doze. Images flitted across Celeste's eyes the rest of the night, some were repeats of the dream, and others made no sense at all. All Celeste could make from it was that something was going to happen at the party next week, although she didn't know what.

# # #

One week later...

He would never admit it. Especially to his mother or father, but he didn't like getting dressed up. Draco Malfoy sat in an uncomfortable high-backed chair, shifting restlessly. It was actually a good tester of self-obedience, wearing uptight clothes. If you sat wrong, they pinched or wrinkled. Even so, they weren't very comfortable to spend a Saturday afternoon in.

Draco looked over at Mr. Malfoy, who sighed and refolded his hands in his lap. They were both waiting for Mrs. Malfoy and Celeste. Draco couldn't figure out why for the life of him, but women always seemed to take three hours longer getting ready than men did. When he asked Mrs. Malfoy, she gave him a freezing glare, and told her that women needed to take their time with their looks.

Finally, Mrs. Malfoy graced their presence, sweeping down the large staircase elegantly. She was dressed in a long, floor-length burgundy gown, with ruffled edges. A brooch the exact shade of Mrs. Malfoy's blue eyes and the size of a goose's egg rested on her chest. Her brown hair was done in her regular tight bun, and she was laden down with makeup. When she swished by Draco, he held his breath to keep from coughing. Mrs. Malfoy always smelt like she fell into a vat of perfume when she was done having people 'fix her up'.

Three minutes later, Mr. Malfoy looked in the direction of Celeste's room. "I wonder where our daughter is," he remarked impatiently. "The party starts in fifteen minutes."

As if on cue, a servant came running into the room, looking very harassed. Keeling over to catch his breath, he bowed hastily. "Master Malfoy," he panted, "your daughter is throwing a tantrum fit to burst!" he cried.

Mr. Malfoy didn't say anything, but he leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. "What's the problem?"

The servant opened his mouth to answer, but there was a loud shout, and he didn't need to explain anymore.

"I AM NOT WEARING THAT....THAT THING YOU CALL A DRESS!" Celeste bellowed.

She stamped down the stairs, a half-score women following after her. One of them was Ampala. She stopped in front of Mr. Malfoy and gave something of a courtsey.

"Master Malfoy, I believe that I speak for all of us when I say that.... We're servants, granted, but not muggle zookeepers." And with that, she left, followed by the rest of the lady servants. Celeste stood, breathing raggedly, watching the servants leave.

"And what is wrong with the dress?" Mr. Malfoy asked his daughter, seeming overly patient. Celeste shook out her robes, and pointed to Mrs. Malfoy.

"It looks exactly like that dress!" she cried.

"What's wrong with that?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, shaking out her skirts angrily.

"What's wrong with that?! I don't want to be a carbon-copy of you!" she cried.

Draco, who had been sitting there listening, blushed. His tuxedo was an exact copy of his father's save smaller. It was a source of pride for the parental figure when their child was exactly like them or something to that extent.

Celeste pointed to Mr. Malfoy and Draco. "We've already got the Olson twins over there!" she spat angrily.

Mr. Malfoy really didn't want to go to his party worked up and angry, so he just sighed. "What do you want to wear then?" he asked.

Celeste had expected a big argument to ensue after that remark, so she was caught totally off-guard.

"Err, well, I don't know. What do you have?" she asked.

"There's a large closet in the left wing. Be off with you," her father ordered, flicking his wrist at the stairwell to the right of him.

Nobody was more surprised then Draco. Mr. Malfoy and Celeste were actually having something of a civil conversation!

Celeste took a slow step back backwards, looking at her father oddly. "Don't change your mind until I'm gone," she ordered, bolting down the hall like a shot.

Mrs. Malfoy, however, was less than pleased. "What was that all about?" she snapped angrily at her husband.

"Just leave it be, Abigail. Remember what she did to the art gallery? I don't want her to do that at the party," he sighed.

"Forget it. Let's just go to the ballroom, shall we?" Mrs. Malfoy asked sharply.

The three family members swept down the large hallways.

# # #

Celeste added the last touches to her costume, by sweeping iridescent eyeshadow heavily over her eyelids. Taking her lead from Elizabeth, her entire choice of makeup and ensemble was in whites and blues. Inhaling deeply, she stepped in front of the mirror.

A high-waisted, sleeveless white dress billowed at her feet, rustling softly as she walked. Her now very short hair had been adorned by a blue dragonfly named Zeet, (he had agreed to sit in her hair until the end of the party). Something of an itty-bitty white shawl was draped between her elbows, and her feet looked tiny and perfect in white shoes. The only makeup she wore was the silvery eyeshadow, which sparkled prettily when she blinked. All of this white made her blue eyes stand out like bright lights.

"I," she said haughtily to the reflection in the mirror, "should be a model for makeup."

Grinning to herself, she walked stately out of the room.

# # #

The large ballroom was gorgeous. The chandeliers had thousands of candles mounted in them; the flames making the crystal beads that were woven in the candle dance like ballet performers. Rainbows from the crystals had been thrown all over the white walls, illuminating the place beautifully.

And the people! Suits of greens, blacks, scarlet and brilliant azure mingled with the lady's dresses in every color imaginable. The dancers swirled and twirled to the music that filtered through the room. Celeste was quite impressed.

Looking for a group of people about her age, she found them monopolizing the buffet table on the other side of the room. Sweeping over there, she poked her head in the midst of the group.

"Hello, there!" she said cheerily. Pansy Parkinson, who was sipping a cherry cordial, dropped the drink. It splattered all over the floor, and servants arrived promptly to sop up the mess.

"Celeste? Is that you? I-I didn't know you were here. Where's your dragons?" she asked, noting that Sunsmear and Nightshade were not there. Celeste snorted.

"Right. Like they would want to come to a formal party. They saw all the preparing that I had to do, and scuttled off."

"Who's this?" asked a male voice.

Celeste whirled around to see a boy about her age standing there, with jet-black hair and sharp blue eyes, grinning devilishly.

"I'm afraid we haven't met, miss," he said in an oily-smooth tone. Celeste looked at him incredulously.

"Oh, shut up, Blaise," another girl, named Carabella, snapped. "You know Celeste Malfoy, so drop the suave charade."

Blaise Zambini's jaw nearly dropped to the floor in astonishment. "Malfoy?! No joking? Wow, I didn't recognize you."

Celeste decided it best not to even grace that with an answer, so she reached over and picked up a glass of water on the table.

"Water?" Carabella asked, reaching down to pick up her tiny glass of wine. "You're boring."

"I don't drink alcohol," Celeste lamely replied. "Wine's too bitter for me."

Carabella shrugged, while taking dainty sips of the bubbly pink liquid. "It takes all kinds to make the world go around, I suppose. You have interesting taste in clothes, Celeste."

Celeste looked down at her white dress, making the ruffles whisper as they brushed against each other. "I found it in the back of one of the closets. Do you like it?" Carabella made the motions to spit out the wine.

"An old garment?" she asked, talking like Celeste had raided the local junkyard to find a dress.

"What's wrong with that?" Celeste asked hotly. "It doesn't look worn at all."

Pansy and Carabella exchanged glances. "Nothing," Pansy finally replied airily, returning to her cordial.

The string quartet finished the slow waltz that they were playing, and the polite clapping drowned out the incensed words that Celeste was about to say. Unstopping, the four instrumentalists started to play a more upbeat baroque tune, that Celeste knew was called Brandenburg Concerto Number 3. The waltzers left the floor, and the murmur of talk grew louder.

Carabella and Pansy resumed their talk, and Blaise left to go find some of his friends to talk to. Celeste felt very out of place here, with the formal dancing and polite conversation. Zeet, the dragonfly who had been sitting in her hair, buzzed.

--I don't like it in here. The sky is all funny, and too close,-- he whispered. Celeste laughed.

--Feel free to leave,-- she said softly. --I don't like it here either.--

The dragonfly took that as enough of exclusion, and buzzed off of her hair, and out one of the doors. Celeste sighed. She wanted to leave too.

"Having fun?" came Draco's voice from behind her. Celeste put her drink down on a table and sighed.

"Do you want the truth that will make you happy, or the real truth?" she asked, shooting Draco a sideways look.

Draco sighed. "It's not that much longer. Maybe about four more hours at the most." Celeste nearly upset her drink.

"Four hours?!" she cried. "I'll die of boredom by then!"

"You don't have much of a choice."

Celeste huffed. "I'm telling you, I'm not coming back next summer. I can't take this. I can't breathe here," she pouted. "I wish these parties were more exiting!"

She was about to get her wish, although in a left-handed way.

# # #

Snare and Craggle stood like statues in their spots by the cave opening. Synthia had gone into another one of her trances, staring into the cauldron, as if searching for something.

"I can't wait until all of thisss isss over," Craggle hissed to Snare, who nodded.

"I ssswear, it'sss like ssshe's posssesssed or ssssomething," Snare whispered in reply, never taking his gaze off of Synthia.

Meanwhile, Synthia stared, unblinking at the cauldron and the scene before her. It was a large party, and the girl she was after looked bored out of her mind. She was actually starting to debate the wisdom of this action. After all, there were several fully trained wizards there, (in fact, many of those wizards were also fully trained in the Dark Arts), and luck always seemed to follow this dratted girl like a faithful duckling.

"What do I have to lose?" she whispered. "What?" Synthia repeated, rubbing her chin. During that course of action, her droopy sleeve flopped backwards, and she had full view of the ring she was wearing on her thumb.

Studying it intently for a moment, she suddenly broke into a large grin, and fits of laughter. "Nothing!" she cried. "Nothing at all!"

Since this was the first thing that Synthia had said in hours, and it sounded like a crazy being's plea, Snare and Craggle were quite alarmed. Synthia flopped up against the side of the cavern wall; she was laughing so hard.

Abruptly, she stopped. The icy cold sharpness returned to her eyes, and she faced the two reptiles, whose breathing was growing more anxious by the moment.

"Now, we leave now," she ordered, repeating herself.

Snare and Craggle nodded dumbly, and the threesome disappeared in a flash of light.

# # #

Celeste fiddled with the stem of her water glass, wiping off the cold fog that appeared on the outside of it. She was so bored, she thought that she was going to die, or kill herself, whatever came first.

The fast eighth notes of the music came spilling out of the instruments of the quartet, seeming to trip over each other in their way out the door. Celeste put her chin on the back of one of her hands and sighed.

There was an abrupt knock at the door. Celeste was hardly, even mildly interested. It was probably just a latecomer to this huge, boring party.

"Maybe I can sneak out. You think anyone would miss me?" she mused to herself, taking a sip of water, and instantly gagging. She had drank so much liquid, that she was waterlogged. Yet she needed something to do with her hands.

The knocks came again, this time louder and more instant. Everybody heard it, and the partygoers stopped the monotonous murmur for a moment, to look at the door. Even the musicians heard it, and wavered some notes. Then the party laughed nervously and the talk resumed.

There was one final knock, and the door decided it had had enough, and flew off its hinges. Now there was utter silence in the room, as the quartet stopped their playing to look at the door.

A girl stood coolly there, flanked by two giant reptiles. Celeste and Draco both gasped in horror, but it was Celeste who was most afraid. Here was the girl that had stood in her dreams.

Her black hair hung in lank strands, separated in several segments because it was so dirty. Green-blue eyes scanned the place, with a hint of amusement in them. Across her very, very light complexion hung something of a smirk.

Looking down at herself, Celeste saw that she was wearing white, and was at a party. Gasping she clamped a hand over her mouth. It looked as if her dream was coming true, with a vengeance.

"Some party," came the voice of the strange girl. "Rude not to invite me, though," she finished airily.

"Ever heard of a bath?" Pansy asked, leaning away from her, covering her nose daintily.

The girl looked at her, and sneered viciously. "Ever heard of shutting up?" she snapped back.

She sashayed down the partition the ladies and gentlemen made for her, looking at each face haughtily.

"I imagine that you've never heard of me before," she sighed, as if she was a famous celebrity. "That's all right. Synthia Grindelwald allows for ignorance... if she's in a good mood."

"Synthia," Celeste repeated under her breath. The name sounded eerily familiar somehow, as if she knew whom this strange girl was all along. So it was this girl that had been attacking her all this time?

Celeste's body jolted violently, partly out of adrenaline, partly out of fear. Her left arm jutted out, knocking her water glass off of the table.

The tinny sound of shattering glass seemed to happen in slow motion. First the glass slipped off the table, then it exploded into shards on the ground, water sloshing all over the place.

That attracted the attention of the entire crowd, including Synthia. Everybody stared at Celeste for a moment, which was glaring angrily at Synthia. Synthia looked rather pleased.

"Ahh, so we meet in person, Miss Malfoy, was it?" she asked pleasantly, as if she was addressing a good friend.

"Not a pleasure, I assure you," Celeste spat back. Synthia kept on smiling sappily, which made Celeste shudder.

"Not much for manners, I see," she sighed. Throwing a sidelong glance, Synthia noted that the rest of the party was still watching, spellbound.

"Be off with you," Synthia Grindelwald ordered, flicking her wrist. It was like she flipped a switch when she said that. Everybody ran out of the room as fast as their legs could carry them.

Breathing raggedly, Celeste looked about the party for something - anything! - that she could use as a weapon. Maybe somebody had left behind a wand, or...or....

Synthia interrupted her thoughts. "I would find it rather boring just to finish you off, Miss Malfoy," she remarked airily. Celeste involuntarily stiffened.

"So, I'm going to make this more interesting," she mused with herself. Celeste, not quite understanding what she meant, stood rooted to the spot, staring at her foe with hard, unemotional eyes.

Snare threw a knife. It landed about a hairs-breadth from Celeste's toe. "I sssuggesssst you sssstart running," he cajoled her softly, friendly almost, as if they were playing hide and seek.

Celeste's mind had already been trying to decide between the actions of fight or flight. Snare made up her mind for her. With a last glance at Synthia out of the corner of her eye, she sprinted out the door.

Synthia walked over to where Celeste had been standing, and picked up the dagger. Running her finger along the blade, she examined the line of blood that ran down her finger.

"How much of a head-start should we give her?" she asked idly. Craggle had discovered the buffet and was stuffing a croissant into his mouth.

"Ahy'd give 'er a minute or so," he said over the bread in his mouth.

# # #

The partygoers, meanwhile, had fled the house quickly. After the last person had made it through the large iron gates, they slammed shut behind, and started to blaze with black fire. The black fire raced down the entire length of the wall, turning the stone into a sort of obsidian inferno.

Mrs. Malfoy blinked several times, like she was restarting herself. "What...? Where am I? What am I doing outside?" she asked to nobody in particular.

The other people were acting in a similar manner. Draco massaged the top of his skull painfully. It felt like someone had dealt him a hefty whack on his cranium with a bludger club.

"Where's that girl at?" Carabella asked, looking around. "Is she still inside?"

"What about your sister, Malfoy?" asked Blaise, jogging Draco's elbow. "She's not here, either."

"Oh my God," Draco drawled, sounding for all the world like he was drunk. And with that, he started cussing a blue streak under his breath.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, Draco?" asked Mr. Malfoy, placing a hand not-so-lightly on his son's shoulders. Draco fiddled with the cuff of his tuxedo.

"I would, in fact, Father," he replied softly. "It's a long story, though."

"It seems as if we have all the time we need," Mr. Malfoy remarked, looking acidly at the black fire that had engulfed the perimeter of his manor.

Draco scuffed a foot up against the ground. "Well, it really all started when I heard music in my sleep one night," he began.

# # #

While Draco and the others were having something to the equivalent of storytime outside the manor, Celeste was looking frantically for a place to hide. She was indescribably embarrassed to be running, but she knew that she probably would have been dead by now otherwise.

Sprinting blindly around the manor, Celeste managed to get herself lost somewhere in the endless halls of it. Cursing blackly, she stumbled into a room.

It was a spare bedroom of sorts; a dark blue room with a desk, bed, and several tables scattered around the place. But what attracted Celeste's attention the most were the objects on the bed. Nightshade, Sunsmear and Renegade.

Running to the bed, Celeste hastened to wake them up. After a few moments, though, she discovered that they wouldn't wake up. A rush of panic arose in Celeste's throat.

Putting her ear on their chests, Celeste was relieved to find that she could hear the steady thump of their hearts. That meant that they weren't dead, just probably under a sleeping spell of sorts.

"Well, great. Just great," Celeste muttered, thumping a hand on the desk. Unlike the other two attempts to sabotage her, this one actually seemed thought out and planned better.

"Think, Celeste. There has to be a way out of this. Has to be," she sighed. Celeste knew of one way to get out of this, but she preferred the way of not getting killed.

Striding over to the shuttered window, she bust it outwards. Looking around, she saw that she was four stories off the ground, facing the front of the house. The perimeter of it was covered oddly in black fire, and the party was grouped outside, obviously listing to somebody speak.

"Why, hello there," came a voice from behind her. Celeste's blood froze cold in her veins. She turned around to see who the speaker was. It was Snare.

"I thought you'd be here, Celeste," he said softly, standing in the doorframe. "Not much of a sssurprissse."

Celeste found that there was a large lump of sorts in her throat, making it impossible to speak.

Snare raised his reptilian equivalent of eyebrows. "No sssmart remark? No ssstaff to whack over my head? What a sssshame."

In spite of herself, Celeste almost smiled. Snare was obviously trying to sound intimidating, but since he had such a terrible lisp it wasn't working. She still said nothing.

The oversized lizard rattled on, but Celeste didn't hear. She knew that she would probably end up dead or worse before all of this was over with, but oddly, she didn't really seem to care. It was as if this cold stone had replaced her insides, and she didn't feel anymore.

I wish that he would just hurry up, she thought wistfully. Dying really wouldn't be so bad, if you know how to look at it right...

Then Celeste realized just how stupid she was being. She was just giving up, for no good reason. This was the scum that abducted her brother, nearly killed everybody at the Drosh's household, and ruined her parent's party, when things were going so well. And she was giving up?!

The cold stone in her shattered, and was replaced by a raging fire. The fire seemed to scorch her entire insides, right to the tips of her nerves. The problem with this, was that the fire seemed to burn away her common sense as well.

With a low growl that rose into a scream, she charged at Snare, seeing nothing but yellow spots and the reptile's sneering face. Unluckily for her, however, Snare managed to grab his dagger the second before Celeste tackled him.

White-hot pain seared over Celeste's left thigh. Ignoring it, she swiped at Snare's face with one of her hands. Blood blossomed from gashes in his face as the reptile roared in pain. There was a brilliant flash of yellow, that threw Celeste backwards.

Celeste scrabbled to her feet and looked over at Snare. He wasn't breathing, or moving at all for that matter.

"I killed him," she hoarsely whispered.

There was a sudden pop, and Snare's corpse gleamed a white so bright that Celeste shaded her eyes. Celeste looked at him, only to find that he wasn't there. An empty red vest and a weaponry belt lay there unused. There was a movement under the vest, and Snare the gecko popped out from under the folds of coarse red fabric. The tiny animal took one look at Celeste, squeaked, and scuttled off as quickly as his legs would carry him.

"If that isn't the damndest thing I've ever seen, I don't know what is," Celeste remarked to nobody in particular.

Looking down, she saw that Snare's dagger was still lodged in her leg. Wincing, she drew the weapon from her flesh, and looked at it. It was a metal blade that was firmly lodged in a hilt of plain wood, well hardened from use. Wiping the crimson coat of blood from the metal, she shrugged. It could come in handy.

That was when she caught a glimpse of her arms. Biting back a scream, she held them up to the dim light that filtered in the room.

They were covered in white fur, about a half-inch thick. It started at the tips of her fingers and stopped at the area where her arm met her shoulder. From each of her fingers protruded a claw, sharp and shiny. Feeling altogether alienated and scared, she swallowed.

Finally, her senses returned to her, and she realized that she probably shouldn't be staying here for this long. Gathering her blood-stained white dress in one hand, she ran out the door.

# # #

Synthia frowned. She hadn't expected on the manor being this big. It was going to be near impossible to find 'Miss Malfoy' in all of these halls. For one thing, Celeste had home field advantage. For another, Synthia didn't know how much longer it was going to be until the Ministry of Magic showed up. Craggle came running up from behind her, and yelled.

"Sssynthia! Ssssnare isss... isss gone!" he cried, holding up a leather strap that had once been Snare's dagger belt.

"Is he dead?" Synthia asked, totally unemotional. Craggle shrugged.

"I don't know. He wasssn't there."

Synthia cursed blackly. "Enough of this," she hissed. Stopping, she held up a hand, the hand with the ring on it, and whispered something.

A rather large black ball of light emitted from it. It floated to the left and back to the right lazily before taking off like a streak down the corridor right in front of them. Synthia followed at a sprint, with Craggle after her.

"What was that?" Craggle panted, looking at Synthia. Her face was twisted into a mask of grim determination as she replied.

"A locating spell. It should take us right to her."

# # #

Celeste was tearing into various rooms; parlors, extra bedrooms, libraries, and several expanses of open hallway. She was in a parlor that was almost never used when a black spell caught up with her. She stared at it curiously, until the door to her left banged open.

In stumbled Synthia and Craggle, keeling over and panting. Celeste's brain fumbled, and couldn't think of anything to do, besides wait for them to catch their breath. When they did, Synthia sneered violently at Celeste.

"Say goodbye," she snarled, and pointed her ring at Celeste. A fast bolt of lightning zapped out of it. Not thinking, Celeste dove to the side, the lightning narrowly missing her side.

A hole was blown in the wall, and rain whipped in. Celeste saw that the eaves of the roof were hanging over the hole in the wall. She grinned. It appeared that the final showdown would take place on the roof of Malfoy Manor.

Celeste poked her tongue out tauntingly at Synthia. "Missed," she jeered. Before Synthia could react, she turned tail and leapt out the hole in the wall.

Later on in her life, Celeste would ponder over how she got such great acrobatic skills in such a short time. In the air, Celeste did something of a twist, and swung out her hand. The extended claws of her hand dug into the wooden shingles of the roof. With that, Celeste preceded to hoist herself upwards.

"After her!" she heard Synthia roar. There was a great blaze of purple light, and lightning split the sky overhead. It looked like this was it.

# # #

"And that's all I know," Draco finally finished, voice sore from all of the explaining.

"You had a telepathic connection," Carabella gawked. "Do you still have it?"

Draco shrugged limply. "No. I don't know what happened. I tried to contact her one day - the day that she went missing - and I guess she snapped it."

Pansy hadn't been paying much attention. She was a shallow girl, and conversations that did not include herself made her bored. So it was fitting that she was the first to notice that Celeste was on the roof.

"LOOK!" she cried. Everybody turned to look where Pansy was pointing. The skinny, forlorn figure that was Celeste looked like it would be thrown off the roof any minute by the hurricane force winds, and the driving rain.

"What is she doing up on the roof?" Mrs. Malfoy asked indignantly. Her mascara was running down her face in black floods, her hair a sopping mess, but she didn't seem to notice. Nobody answered her question.

Nobody knew what to say.

# # #

Celeste stood quietly, as her adversary mounted the roof, and assumed a battle pose. Mind registering that she had nowhere else to run Celeste's mouth started spitting out insults in order to buy time.

"Coward!" Celeste cried. "Too afraid for a real fight, you render those that you know could beat you helpless, so you can slaughter them! You are lower than the dirt and mud itself!"

Even in the dim light, Celeste could see Synthia's cheeks go bright pink. "Silence!" she roared. "I do not think that you are in the position to be insulting me!"

"I'll be in whatever position I wanna be in, mop-head!" Celeste spat, not really caring that she was slurring words.

There was a sudden crack; Synthia was trying to do the lightning attacks again. Celeste dove to the side, digging her claws into the wooden shingles to keep from slipping off.

Kicking off her impractical shoes for traction, Celeste righted herself, and looked down. Her white dress was soaked in rain, sweat and blood, changing the satin to a pinkish color. She still grasped Snare's dagger in her right hand.

Synthia shot off another blast of lightning. Quickly, Celeste raised the blade. Being that the lightning was not electricity, but magic, the spell was deflected back towards Synthia and Craggle. Synthia ducked, but the reflected bolt hit Craggle square in the chest. Rearing back, he lost his footing on the roof and screamed as he fell. Then there was eerie silence.

"Shit," Synthia swore. Celeste smiled.

"It's just you and me now, Synthia," Celeste prodded. "Without your little goons to protect you. The way it should be."

Synthia and Celeste were circling each other like a pair of battle hawks, each waiting for the other to strike first.

Finally, Celeste lost patience and charged, splinters stabbing mercilessly into her bare feet. Knocking Synthia over, the struggling pair slid to the end of the roof. Synthia reared up her legs and kicked Celeste in the stomach. Winded, the kick sent Celeste sprawling.

One of the many chimneys kept Celeste from falling off of the roof entirely. She stumbled to her feet, but it was too late. Synthia was upon her, snarling maliciously.

Licking dry lips, Celeste met the gaze defiantly. She was going to go down fighting at any rate. All of a sudden, there was a screech in the air.

A plume of fire leapt out of the chimney, shaping itself into a bird. The magical flame soared in the sky for a few moments, before being put out by the rain.

Celeste remembered. Facing Synthia squarely, she shouted, "Nuk ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu!" she cried. "Nuk ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu!" she repeated desperately.

It wasn't a magnificent spell. There were no dramatic displays of light, no sound effects. In fact, Celeste thought it didn't do anything at all. But, it did.

Synthia's thumb with the ring on it started to itch. At first, Synthia paid it no heed. Then the itching got worse. Finally, Synthia couldn't stand it anymore. Automatically, she took off the ring to scratch her finger.

Celeste saw her chance. Rearing up her left arm, she meant to smack the ring out of Synthia's hand. It didn't quite work out. The ring got caught on one of her long claws.

For a moment, both Celeste and Synthia stared at the ring that Celeste held in her hand. Then, without warning, Celeste threw the evil ring down a chimney.

There was a rumbling from the chimney that Celeste threw it down. Finally, like a geyser erupting, black flames spewed out of the chimney top, exploding it.

A brick struck the back of Celeste's head, and all went black.

# # #

Celeste had odd, feverish dreams after her confrontation with Synthia. Some of them were repeats of the battle, or her life, and some of them made no sense at all. But there was one dream fragment that Celeste remembered most vividly of all.

She was standing in her wizard robes, and a soft wind carried the soft fragrance of honeysuckle and lilac to her nose. The grounds a fresh carpet of green, and the sky a clear blue made the place seem like heaven itself. In fact, for a few moments, Celeste was quite sure that she was dead.

Sitting down on the grass, she stretched herself out and watched a pair of courting doves flit happily through the air, when there was a sudden flash of color to Celeste's right.

It was the firebird again. It preened its feathers out gracefully, and opened his beak to caw lazily to the sky. When it had gotten settled, it looked Celeste square in the eyes.

Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu, it proclaimed.

Celeste sighed. "I know that already," she said. "I used the spell. What else do you want?"

A flash of scarlet and gold over her wrist silenced her. Rubbing at the place where the bird struck her, she winced.

Nuk Ua em ennu en Xu ammu Xu, it said again flutely. I am one of those shining beings that lives in light. You are one of those shining beings that lives in light.

"What?" Celeste had asked helplessly. "I am one of those shining beings that lives in light? Is that what that means?"

A shining being, the bird confirmed. He flapped his wings, and in a dazzling display of fire, the bird was gone.

Before Celeste could ponder over what this strange bird said, she noticed that the place she was in was beginning to melt. The greens of the trees dripped down into the browns of their trunks; the blue sky overhead melted down into nothing. As the last of the green grass melted away into the nothingness that was now there, Celeste blacked out.

# # #

Celeste awoke in a very soft spot. Groggily opening her eyes to slits, she peered around her surroundings. She was in her bed, nestled in a cocoon of pillows, blankets and sheets, and dresses in her nightrobes. The window across from her bed was wide open, revealing a perfect blue sky overhead. A soft, sweet-smelling breeze ruffled the curtains.

As soon as she managed to stagger to a sitting position, she was tackled back down again by two blurs that were Nightshade and Sunsmear. They bounced happily on the bed, licking her face ecstatically with their long tongues. Renegade swooped in the open window, with a piece of parchment in her beak. Celeste would have read it, but then the rest of her family bust into the room.

"Look-ie who rose from the dead," Draco said tauntingly. Celeste flopped back onto her pillows and groaned.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

Mr. Malfoy cleared his throat and rocked back and forth on his feet. "If you're being knocked out commenced with the eastern chimney being blown up-"

"It did," Celeste interrupted.

"Then about three days."

Celeste's eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she heard this. Three days! She hadn't been bedridden for that long since she had the measles when she was two.

"What happened?" she asked again, feeling very disoriented.

Mrs. Malfoy sighed. "After you were knocked out, the odd fire occurrence around the manor walls was dispelled. We went in, and found you on the roof, along with that other girl. We brought you in here, and the other girl is in a muggle hospital right now. She doesn't remember anything."

"What?!"

"Total brain damage," Draco elaborated. She forgot who she was, where she came from; the whole shabang. Last time we heard she thinks her name is Nellie Winters. We have no idea what happened to her after that."

"Is she going to stand trial?" Celeste asked indignantly. After all of this, Celeste wanted to see a little justice. Mr. Malfoy shook his head, though.

"She doesn't know what she did. Besides, I think that living as a muggle for the rest of her life is punishment enough, don't you?"

Celeste was about to object, being as she thought that she was a muggle for most of her life, and it really wasn't that bad, but then decided to drop it. It wasn't worth the argument.

There was silence for a moment, before Mrs. Malfoy frowned and pointed to the foot of Celeste's bed, where two geckos were sunning themselves.

"Those things won't leave this house," she said, sounding disgusted. "I think they want to stay with you."

Celeste eased back up to a sitting position, and scooped the two palm-sized lizards into her hands.

They both had green, beaded hides, with long toes and slitted black eyes, like normal geckos. But then Celeste noticed that the one had five long scars over his face, as if an oversized cat had scratched him. Celeste covered her mouth in mock horror.

--One of you wouldn't happen to be named Snare, would you?-- she asked. The lizard with the scars opened one eye and croaked lazily. He climbed up to settle in Celeste's hair.

"I'm gonna look like a walking menagerie," she grumbled. Mr. Malfoy gave something of a half-smile.

"Do you need anything?" he asked awkwardly. Celeste looked up at him curiously and then at her left forefinger. She noticed that there was a claw still protruding out of her flesh, although the rest of her arm appeared normal.

"Why do I still have this?" she asked while making the sharp claw retract. Draco shrugged.

"The doctor said that you'd probably have that the rest of your life. Hope you don't mind, claw girl."

Celeste sneered playfully, while pointing the claw at him. "Shadup, 'cause I know how to use this."

Just for a fling, she decided to try something. *Draco's a brainless giiiiit,* she thought silently. *Draco's a brainless giiit.*

*Now you shadup,* was the reply. It was very scratchy, and distorted, but there was no mistaking that there was a reply. The connection was coming back.

"I think I'd like to go back to sleep," Celeste commented, rousing a huge, fake yawn. The rest of Celeste's family took that as a leave and left, shutting the door behind them. When she was sure they were gone, she reached up and took the paper out of Renegade's beak. Renegade clacked her beak together, and soared out the window, with the two dragons on her claws. The now-gecko Craggle and Snare retreated back to the foot of the bed to resume sunning themselves. Celeste opened the note.

Dear Celeste,

We got your letter, and we would be more than pleased to have you come and finish out the two remaining weeks of summer with us. We worked things out with the Malfoys (boy, did Martin enjoy that one), and they said that you could come back next summer if you pleased. Can you come in about a week? We read about you and you 'adventure' on the roof. It's all over the Daily Prophet. You're famous! Well, we think that you should stay in bed for awhile. And we mean stay there, Celeste. See you (hopefully) in a week!

Love,

Cindy

Celeste put the letter down happily; fingering the corners of it, just to make sure it was real. Leaning back into her pillows, she smiled.

"Home," she murmured. "Home sounds great to me."

And with that, Celeste Malfoy fell asleep.

# # #

I'm sitting in the railway station,

'got a ticket for my destination.

On a tour of one night stands, my suitcase and guitar in hand,

and ev'ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band.

I wish I was,

Homeward bound,

Home, where my thought's escaping,

Home, where my music's playing,

Home, where my love lies waiting,

Silently for me.

And ev'ry day's and endless stream

of cigarettes and magazines.

And every town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories,

and ev'ry stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be,

Homeward bound,

Home, where my thought's escaping,

Home, where my music's playing,

Home, where my love lies waiting,

Silently for me.

Tonight I'll sing my song again,

I'll play the game and pretend.

But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity,

Like emptiness in harmony, I need someone to comfort me,

Homeward bound,

Home, where my thought's escaping,

Home, where my music's playing,

Home where my love lies waiting,

Silently for me.

Silently for me.....

# # #

THE END

A/N: It's the end! ::gasps for breath, and massages her fingers, which are about to fall off:: You like? And no, in advance for any asking, I won't be doing any sequels on the sequel. ::glares at people who are probably looking at me innocently right now:: All right, enough flattering myself. Please review, and tell me if you like. Maybe one day in the distant future I will rewrite this.... But don't go holding your breath on that one. (You'll probably suffocate -_-;;) Thank you all ::waves overly cheerily::

~Moxie ^_^

Disclaimer: You know, if I had back the time I spent on disclaimers, I would probably have back an hour of my life... Every character that was in the Harry Potter series belongs to the fan-tabulous J.K. Rowling, and every other character that isn't mentioned in the Harry Potter books belongs to lil' ol' me.