Consequence

~~~~~

Albus Dumbledore does not get angry quickly. But when he does . . .

I will just say such is a fate I would wish only upon my father.

I'm standing here in his office, head bowed. I think I'd prefer to be back in my cellar.

"What do you have to say for yourself Miss Malfoy?"

Malfoy? He doesn't call me that.

"I'm sorry sir. It was stupid of me."

"You've jeopardised your own safety you understand."

"Yes sir."

He sits back in his chair.

"I must admit I'm rather at a loss for what to do to you now."

"Pardon sir?" I dare to look up.

"Any ordinary student I would put on several month's detention, but the work you do with the elves equates that already. So I don't know how to punish you."

"You could forbid me from reading sir." Bloody stupid house elf instincts!

"But you must continue with your studies."

"Then I don't know sir."

"Hmm," he starts playing with his beard. He's not so furious now, but still obviously not happy with me. "You will still stay here. Although I cannot guarantee that Lucius will not hear of your presence; some children are bound to have written home already of a pale blond girl popping out of the ground of the Quidditch pitch."

Was that a joke? I cannot tell.

"Rumours abound already, you know."

"Rumours sir?"

"Yes," he's almost smiling now. Does his anger cool so quickly? "The Slytherins believe you are a Veela that Mister Potter conjured specifically to distract Mister Malfoy. Another of their theories is that you were hexing Mister Malfoy throughout the game and did not reveal yourself until the fulfilment of your evil scheme."

"But, but they won, sir."

"Yes. However, their seeker sustained several broken ribs and extensive bruising."

I don't want to ask, but I have to know; "What do the other houses believe sir?"

"Much the same. Only in their minds Mister Potter was your intended victim."

"Oh. I see."

"Rather bloodthirsty aren't they?"

"Yes sir." I don't like that glint in his eyes.

"It would be horrible to be subjected to them wouldn't it?"

Oh dear. Why is he smiling at me that way?

"Rather like being thrown in a pit full of hungry lions."

Oh dear.

"I believe I have an idea for your punishment Miss Malfoy."

Oh bloody hell.

~~~~~

My brother stares at me. I can do nothing but stare back. Side by side before the headmaster's desk, we listen to the old wizard's voice and take in the sight of each other.

"I don't believe you," Draco says at length. "Father wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?" I ask quietly. We even sound like each other. "I know he's done worse to you, and more frequently."

"You're bluffing," but he's paled, remembering the pain.

"I've heard you scream brother. I know what he's done to you."

Dumbledore wisely doesn't say a word. This is between us now.

"A Malfoy couldn't be a squib," he tries another angle. "There's never been a squib in our line."

"Maybe they were all hidden away like I was. Maybe they were all killed at birth."

He shakes his head.

How can I make him believe me?

Twins share a bond, some people say. If I can feel his pain, can he feel mine?

Without hesitation I turn around and slam my fist into the cold stone wall.

Behind me I hear him cry out. I turn back.

My brother bends over, cradling his right hand in his left, staring at me in disbelief.

"What the hell did you just do?"

I swallow. To me this pain is nothing, a pinprick compared to having my soul shredded with that spell. But he does not have the strength I do. Even though it's distant, the hurt in his hand brings tears to his eyes.

Dumbledore raises his wand and murmurs something. The bones of my hand mend back together, my skin heals and the blood disappears, and slowly my brother stands up straight.

"You didn't realise this bond earlier because Father only used the curse on me once," I feel the headmaster's stare but continue. "I felt it every time he cursed you. Again, and again. We're twins Draco. If you believe or if you doubt, it's still true."

He breathes heavily, a strand of that silky hair falling in his eyes. I hate it that I can't get closer. This is my other half, and I've never even felt the warmth of his skin.

"Alright," he barely whispers. "I believe you Leila."

Oh, my brother. I hold out my hand to him, and he clasps it briefly.

And it feels like coming home.

~~~~~

I'm wishing I were a house elf again. It's still not working.

I'm standing next to Dumbledore, dressed in my second hand clothes and holding a mouldy smelling wizard's hat.

Draco avoids my eye as the old wizard explains to the school that I am in fact Mister Malfoy's twin sister who has only recently come to the country. Apparently I've been living in Australia. I am a squib and as such will not participate in practical classes, but I am to be treated with the same respect as any student of Hogwarts. And like any other student I am to be sorted.

I sit down on a small stool in front of the staff table. A thousand magic filled eyes look at me like I'm some rare animal. I suppose I am, in a way.

Dumbledore places the mouldy hat on my head. And I hear a voice in my ear.

"Oh hello. Another Malfoy. But there's something wrong here - "

Make fun of me being a squib and I swear you'll wish you'd never been knitted.

"My, my. Feisty little critter aren't you. Well, I suppose you'll be heading for Slyther - "

But I don't like them.

"So?"

They're all stupid.

"You don't fit anywhere else my girl. You've got that ambitious streak. Even though you won't be quite so unscrupulous in getting what you want, you'll get it all the same. I stand by my first choice - SLYTHERIN!"

The last word is yelled to the hall at large. Dumbledore removes the hat, and I stand. I hear polite clapping from three tables, but no one in my new house seems to want to accept the squib.

Typical.

I walk slowly toward them and slide onto the end of the bench. When the boy next to me shuffles pointedly away I just stare straight ahead and remind myself I'm a Malfoy. I can break the bones in my own hand and not make a sound. This rejection will not affect me.

~~~~~

I really hope I'm not staggering blindly into Mary-Sue Land with this. If I am pull me back and I'll rewrite this chapter.

I only sorted her for convenience, and she's staying in her own room. My original promise of no original-character/known-character pairing still stands. And for some reason Leila insists on working with the elves. Don't ask me why.