Disclaimer: Duh. Hopefully you've read my other chapters, and then you should already know that I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: This is a real short chapter, explaining all those questions about who Alice's mother is. And PLEEZ review!!

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I'm already There

"I'm already there.

Take a look around.

I'm the sunshine in your hair.

I'm the shadow on the ground.

I'm the whisper in the wind,

And your imaginary friend.

I'm already there.-"

I'm already There by some artist whose name I don't know.

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Alice dismounted from the broom and flattened the stray hairs back onto her head. She lifted the burlap bag off her shoulder and sat it by the tree, nest to her father's Firebolt 5000. The bottled water sloshed around inside the plastic, and the tin cans clinked together.

Alice tapped smartly on the solid ebony door using the limestone knocker. Momentarily, it was opened by a stately looking man in formal robes.

Alice started before the butler could open his mouth. "I would like to speak with the owner, please."

"May I ask who you think you are?"

"I know who I am, perfectly well, thank you. I am Alice Potter."

Alice never knew how devastating a name could be until then. She never forgot it.

The man ushered her into the ballroom-sized foyer and motioned for her to stay while he went to another part of this immense home.

He returned later and gestured stiffly for her to follow.

Alice had never seen such a peaceful yet frightening home. Portraits hung on every wall of evil looking mean and women. They snarled at her, and their eyes reminded Alice of someone, she just couldn't remember who.

The butler motioned her into a library and Alice obediently sat down across from an old man with perfect grey hair, a profiled nose, firm, tight mouth, and stern eyes. Alice felt fear flutter in her gut.

The man leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands upon the cedar desk. His eyes burned into hers, and Alice stored just as ferociously back at him.

He leaned back suddenly, blinked, and smiled. "I thought you might be one of us." His voice was rich and clean.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't understand."

"I mean you're related to me."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm not related to you, but I was-"

"Who was your mother?" he barked, interrupting Alice's train of thought.

It took a moment to grope for the answer.

"Vigilance Potter, s-sir."

"Maiden name?"

"Malfoy, sir."

"Then you're family. My grand-daughter, as a matter of fact. I'm glad to see your father let you come back to us."

"I-I don't understand," she stuttered.

"I," he said, standing up and leaning on his solid cane, "am Lucius Malfoy. Vigilance was my daughter."

"Then… Draco Malfoy was also your son…"

"Yes."

"That makes no sense. My father hated Uncle Draco-"

"But he loved your mother. Don't ever disbelieve that. Too bad he was an honest person. He would've made a find son-in-law."

Alice buried her head in her hands. Her grandfather reached a hand to pat her on the shoulder.

"You'll stay with me for a while. We'll talk later." He snapped his fingers, and the severe butler reappeared. "Take Miss Potter to the family guest room. Tell the house-elves that they had better not screw up dinner tonight like they did last month, or they will all receive clothes." Alice gasped in surprise at the threat her grandfather had just made.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy." An ugly, deformed hand signaled to Alice, and she obediently followed.

Countless corridors later, she was roughly shoved into a room with forest green trimmings surrounding her and authentic silver furniture. She reached into her pocket for her wand and pulled it out. She murmured, "Magnum opus," and the green trimmings changed to cobalt instantly. She sighed, and collapsed on the bed.

"Well," she whispered to no one in particular, "this certainly isn't what I expected."