Light?
~~~~~
Light is what wakes me. A voice whispers "Lumos," and I jerk upright. My first thought is of Father, and I scramble to my feet so he will not have an excuse to kick me but -
He's not here. The cook is looking at me strangely, holding his wand above his head.
"You've got a visitor, girl."
I blink. "I beg your pardon?"
"In the lounge. Big fella, black hair."
"Oh." I walk out of the room, the cook still looking confused behind me.
The term 'Big fella' is a gross understatement. The man is a giant. Standing from the sofa before the fire, he holds out a hand as big as a side of beef and smiles.
"Name's Hagrid."
"Pleased to meet you sir," I shake his hand. I'm aware that his sheer size should be intimidating but he seems like a nice man. When I call him 'sir' he almost blushes. How odd.
After this introduction neither of us knows what to say. We both know what he's here for but getting to that point may take a while. The fire crackles and flickers its friendly light around the room. Through the windows I can see the grey dawn is only just beginning.
I dislike interacting with people. At least with father I knew how to behave: I hated him. I still hate him. But I don't know what to do now.
"We're best to be off now, then."
Thank heavens.
"Yes," I step toward the door.
"What about yer things?" Hagrid asks, twinkly black eyes confused.
"I don't have any things besides what I'm wearing, and even these are on loan," I pluck at the sleeve of my brown jumper, wishing I owned something nicer than second hand jeans and sneakers that are too big. But they are still the nicest clothes I have ever worn. At home the house elves were better dressed than I was.
"Oh. Alright then."
We leave the Leaky Cauldron. I don't have the chance to say thankyou or goodbye to the owner, and for that I am sorry.
Hagrid has a motorbike to match his size. He gives me a helmet and I perch on the seat behind him.
Are you with me, shadow in my head? Good. Let's continue this together then.
With a roar he kicks the engine into life. And so begins the journey to Hogwarts. To be perfectly honest, I'm terrified.
~~~~~
Hagrid slows to a halt. I open my eyes, sitting up from where I was slumped against his back. The warm sunshine had lulled me to sleep.
"We're here."
Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have no idea what I'm going here. Above me the walls of the castle loom, reaching into the clouds. I'm awed.
On the steps before the main doors, an old man stands. Long white hair, dark . . . robes. Robes are what wizards wear. I should know that.
Hagrid strides up the steps three at a time, I try to keep close to him. Time enough later to goggle at the lake, forest, open, open lawns and the majestic castle itself. The old wizard smiles as I approach. He looks kind. Very kind. And there is a hint of regret in his eyes. Why is that there?
The giant and the headmaster exchange pleasantries. Then Professor Dumbledore turns to me.
"Miss Malfoy."
"Yes sir."
He raises his hand and places it on my shoulder. I try not to react. Smooth face, blank gaze. I may have no power in my blood, but I'm still a Malfoy.
"Come with me please."
In through those massive doors, and deeper into this place. It's so unlike the Manor. It's more . . . textured here. Warmer. Rougher. And more friendly. The paintings smile and nod, they don't glare or ignore me. It's strange here, but I feel like I could get to like this castle.
Dumbledore leads me to his office. You're still with me, shadow? Good. Here, sit down on the couch as I do.
The old wizard sits down opposite.
"Dobby told me about you."
I cannot conceal surprise. "You know Dobby sir?"
"Yes, he came to work here after your father released him by mistake."
I nod. The elf has told me the story of his first sock, if only briefly.
"Dobby told me that there was a girl being kept in the cellars under Malfoy Manor. I asked him if he could find out more about this girl. It seems he thought best to bring you in person." He sits back in his armchair, fingers toying with his long beard. "May I ask why Lucius would keep his daughter in a cellar?"
"I'm a squib sir. I have no magic of any kind."
"Hardly an excuse to keep you in a cellar my dear," he pauses, looking sheepish. "I do not even know your first name."
I hesitate. My name? "My name is Leila." How good it feels to say that. He tried to deny me a name. Yet I have one. How do you like that Father?
"Leila," the headmaster smiles again. "Tell me about yourself."
I keep it skeletal. I skip the curse, I skip the pain, I skip the cold and the damp. I tell him of my twin, of the elves looking after me. I cannot leave out Father's hatred; it's part of the story.
I hear my voice go cold. It's like I'm talking about somebody else. It doesn't feel like I'm here, not really here. Detached, that's the word.
The headmaster nods and listens to my story. When it's over he offers me a drink; I can only sip water. And then he makes the arrangements.
The issue is out of my hands for a moment, and I like the feeling. I'm to stay at Hogwarts; I'm to live in the castle. I will not join the school; it's best if my presence is not widely known. I will work with the house elves, and they will care for me. Dobby will be my friend. If I need anything at all, I'm to ask for Professor Dumbledore. I will be safe here.
And this feels good. There is an emotion between my ribs that is so warm, like the sunshine, like stars. I will be happy here. I know I will.
~~~~~
Hmm, this is beginning to border on Leila having an invisible friend. Ah well, I like it.