Chapter 2

Just to let you know, there will be no romance in this story. Geeze, they're only 11.




As Marisa was walking down the hallways, she already was forming a plan in her head. She had to make a grand entrance to impress all of her father's business friends, something far better than the last time. Her father was constantly showing Marisa off, and Marisa didn't mind it one bit. She thought she was born to be the life of the party. Marisa stopped stomping around her estate and began to make small, dainty steps. She remembered what her mother once told her, to walk as if a spell book was on her head, and she did so. Already she began to feel fancier.

During her walk down the corridor, she could see her ancestors peering at her from behind their frames. On the most part, they seemed impressed by her attire. They waved and smiled, one daring uncle whistled at her. There were also a few sour apples who shook their head disgustedly at her and whispered to the other portraits. Marisa noticed her deceased Aunt Sophie do this, and Marisa stopped in front of her frame. Marisa stood in front of her, glaring at her, almost challenging her to tell her what she was whispering about. It would be something about her, no doubt. Aunt Sophie loved ridiculing Marisa every chance she got.

Aunt Sophie was a large woman, to put it mildly. She was as wide as she was tall. She penciled on her eyebrows, making her look like she was always in shock. On top of that, she always wore a particular emerald brooch on the right side of her dress robes. It was in the shape of a spider, and it was bewitched to crawl around the front of her shirt, though it never left a specific area. Marisa remembered when her aunt was alive, she always smelled awful, like mothballs. Aunt Sophie glared at Marisa from behind the spectacles that she held in her hand. "Yes...?" she inquired. She lifted her fake eyebrows a bit, making her look even more surprised. She fixed the black hat on her head and patted her hair, trying to tame it. The spider crawled a little bit, giving Aunt Sophie a creepy look.

"Aunt Sophie! Do you think I'm stupid?" Marisa started, "Don't you go whispering about me when I'm right in front of you!" She shook her fists at the portrait and then stuck her tounge at her, making her look like a 5 year old. Aunt Sophie, however, was undeterred. She was used to Marisa's old taunts. They grew tiring after a while. She peered again from behind her spectacles and gazed at Marisa with an amused look on her face.

"My dear, I was simply speaking to Thelia," she waved her hand to the portrait next to her, "of the ball that is about to take place. However, if I was to whisper about you, it would be about how unladylike you are. And, my precious," Marissa gritted her teeth at this, "it seems you would be proving my point, doesn't it?" Aunt Sophie replied cooly. Next to her, the portrait of great-aunt Thelia cackled insanely. Marisa was fuming.




"Oh....you're infuriating! You wait until I tell Papa! And Thelia, you old biddy, you'll get what's coming to you!" spat back Marisa. She was at her wits end with Aunt Sophie, always judging her and her behavior. "Perhaps Papa could move you two to another room...maybe the basement?" Marisa stood back and crossed her arms with a triumphant look on her face. She had finally told Aunt Sophie what she wanted to say months ago. Thelia had a look of fright on her face, but Aunt Sophie stood firm.

"If he wanted to, he won't be able to. I put a Sticking Spell on my portrait when I was living. There is no force on Earth that can remove my picture now." This resulted in another cackle from Thelia and another smirk from Aunt Sophie. "Oh, and by the way my dear, I wouldn't get into a huff if I were you. Your cheeks turn the most awful shade of red when you do that."

Marisa didn't stick around to listen to the rest of Aunt Sophie's ravings. She was so fed up that she left in the middle of her lecture. "So much for being dainty," thought Marisa half-heartedly. She realized she was stomping again, so she slowed down and tried to prepare for her entrance. Continuing her walk to the ballroom, Marisa could hear Sophie yelling such things like, "Wait! I wasn't finished!".



Thelia consoled Sophie, telling her false things like, "She just couldn't handle it". Marisa smirked, knowing that no matter how rude Aunt Sophie got, she could always walk away from her.

Finally, Marisa got to the stairs. Remembering her plan to be dainty, Marisa let one graceful hand slide down the banister while the other stayed limply by her side. She could see some guests still mingling in reception room. While walking down the stairs, she heard her mother's drawling voice repeat hints on how to appear elegant. Marisa raised her head ("Remember the spell book") and looked around the room ("Don't look too interested"). She finished walking down the stairs ("One foot in front of the other, slowly") and walked out among the guests.

She saw some older guests pointing at her and smiling. The regular guests at the Alvarez Estate were well used to Marisa's entrance and speech. They were enchanted by this little girl's elegance. "Well, I suppose that worked pretty well," she thought to herself, "I guess I should greet Papa's guests now."

She roved through the crowds and walked up to people she was acquainted with, curtseying and holding her hand out to receive kisses. The older men humored her and kissed her small wrist as if she was a prima ballerina. The older women, slightly laughing at the small girl's antics, nodded their heads at her in acknowledgment, treating her like she was a full grown woman. Marisa smiled as she thought of how proud her papa would be.

Marisa remembered what her father told her to do before every dinner party. She was to receive the guests and lead them to the ballroom. Because she was so short, Marisa went up a few steps on the stairs to make her more visible to the small crowd. Taking a deep breath, she proclaimed, "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the dinner party of Mario Alvarez!" If anyone was talking before, they weren't now. The sight of a small child directing a room was so very quaint she had the attention of everyone in the room. "We thank you for your presence and we are happy to have you here. For those of you who have not had the pleasure of being acquainted with me, I am Marisa Alvarez, daughter of Mario." Some guests chuckled at this. "Please, leave your coats to any one of our house elves," Marisa made a slight movement of her hand, indicating the house elves, "and follow me!".

All of the new guests clapped at the end of Marisa's speech. Marisa smiled broadly and walked down the stairs. While waiting for her guests to dispose of their coats, she took a chance to glance at them. Some she recognized, like the Malfoys with their only son, and the Notts. When she caught Mr. Nott's eyes, he nodded curtly at her, in a manner very similar to her mothers. She understood that Mr. Nott grew up on the same street as her mother. As soon as the guests were rid of their coats, she led them to the ballroom.

The relatively new guests were familiarizing themselves with the house, Marisa noticed. They seemed thoroughly impressed by Mario's collection of magical objects. Marisa paused for a bit, letting the guests observe her father's collection of magical instruments. The young Mr. Malfoy in particular was captivated by a withered hand sitting on a cushion. Marisa always thought it was gross, and she begged her father to rid of it. He wouldn't hear of it, however, and he said it was important for his business. Marisa didn't say anything about it after that.

"Excuse me, Miss Alvarez?" asked the Malfoy boy, "Where did your father get this?"

Marisa could hardly contain her glee at being called "miss". She smiled a bit, and then looked up to answer his question, "Knockturn Alley, I believe. It is called the-"

"Hand of Glory," he finished.

"Pardon me, but how did you know that?" Marisa inquired. It was the first time anyone actually knew the name of one of the instruments in this room. She heard some adults laugh as soon as she said the words "pardon me" ("Such well bred! I will have to tell Mario how impressed I am," she heard one say), but she ignored them.



"Oh, I saw it a couple of years ago," he replied nonchalantly. He shrugged and went to examine some other objects in the room. The guests were in awe with the many different torture devices her father had collected. Marisa informed them that all of them were precisely 500 years old and were used in the Middle Ages. They were formed like some old muggle torture objects, but fortified with magic, making the pain more excruciating.



Marisa eventually grew tiresome of explaining every device in the room. To proceed with the group she said, "Whomever wishes to stay and watch the object may if they wish. I will ask the rest of you to follow me to the ballroom." Marisa was relieved to see almost everyone follow her. The Malfoy boy had chosen to stay behind. Marisa just walked away, figuring he could find his way on his own.



Marisa stopped at a large pair of mahogany doors. Again, woodland creatures were carved into it, all of them moving by enchantment. Marisa was reminded of her mirror and jewelry box just then. "A-hem!," she started, to get the guests' attention, "Through these doors is the ballroom, where my father will be meeting you. I hope you have a pleasant stay in our estate. Au revoir!" Marisa thought the bilingual effect was a nice touch. She also curtseyed to wrap it all up. She escorted the guests through the doors (One of them was chuckling again) and then shut them as soon as everyone was in. Satisfied because of a job well done, Marisa went to find her mother.



She saw her father walk into the room. "McNair! Malfoy! Warrington! How pleasurable to see you!" Marisa heard Mario boom. All of the men in the room (and some of the women) went over to see her father. Marisa noticed her father looked very sharp that evening; he was wearing his best dress robes with a suit tailored in Italy. To top it off, he had his favorite hat on, it was a deep black with stars periodically shooting across the fabric.



As she walked past him, she heard the one her father called "Warrington" say, "Mario, your little girl, she is fantastic! She had us enchanted during her whole 'tour'," he paused and chuckled, "She is the most darling little girl I've ever met." Mario looked up and caught eyes with Marisa. He winked and beckoned her over with his finger.



"Thank you, Warrington. And here is my little princess now. Say hello to papa's friends for me," Mario took Marisa by the shoulders and pushed her towards his friends. Marisa was a little undignified for being spoken to like that, but nevertheless, she put on a dazzling smile and curtseyed. The mean clapped and smiled. Mario smiled at her, signaling that it was time for her to go now.



Marisa took this opportunity to look for her mother again. While scanning through the crowds, she managed to get her first real look at the ballroom's decorations. The marble floor's colorings were changed again, probably thanks to their cook, Nancy. She changed the colors of rooms and floors whenever it fit her mood (with Athene's permission, of course). Instead of the grey that it was yesterday, it was now a deep green accompanied by onyx. The walls, too, were a deep green that matched the marble. She looked up at the rotunda and saw the familiar witches and wizards carved around the base, containing both family from her father's side and her mother's side. As soon as a new cousin was born, or someone was married into the family, their face would magically appear on the rotunda. Marisa looked around for her etching and she found it, skipping around the base.



Marisa snapped back into reality as she heard her mother calling her. "Marisa! Oh Marisa, darling!" Athene glided across the room to her daughter. Marisa's mother never walked, she glided. Marisa had always tried to mimic her actions, but it could never quite come up to standards with her mother's graceful glide. "I am so pleased to see you," she stated, emotionless. She then drew Marisa into an awkward hug.



Marisa knew that the hug was all for show. It happened at every one of their dinner parties. Marisa was used to it, and they had a quite believable show for their guests. "As am I, mother," she responded, deepening the hug.



"There are some children in that corner," Athene said as she pointed a bony finger toward the left side of the room, "you may visit with them if you wish."



The "if you wish" was platonic. Marisa knew her mother was trying to draw her away from the adults. She usually did this when they had some important business to discuss. "Of course, mother," Marisa replied as she tried to glide away. The effect was ruined, however, as she tripped over an unwary house elf. She saw her mother chuckle a bit as she watched her try to compose herself. Marisa then watched as her mother actually managed to glide away, without tripping over any house elves. Marisa whirled around in fury at the offending elf. It was Tules.



"Oh, Tules, you dunce! You messed up my glide!" Marisa shouted at the poor house elf. Tules cowered in fear, awaiting his punishment. Marisa, thankfully for Tules, was not in the mood for such things at the moment. "You may go," she said with a flick of her hand. Tules sauntered off, desperately trying not to trip any more humans.



Marisa was still walking when she heard her father announce to the room that the food was being served. Some groups of idle chatters moved away to form a queue, so Marisa could finally make her way towards the corner. Once she got there, she could see about 8 children, 3 girls and five boys, in different groups, talking about different subjects. She quickly walked past two boys talking about Quidditch. Quidditch was a nuisance to her, and she didn't want to hear more than what was necessary. She moved a bit closer to the 3 girls, but saw that they were all about 3 years younger than her, much to her disappointment.



Finding no one to talk to, she sat on a bench and sighed. Even though it was a very unladylike thing to do, she rested her elbow on the armrest and held her head in her hands. She looked off to the side and saw another young child about her age sitting with her. He looked equally bored. At that same moment, he looked at her.



He was a short boy, about 2 inches shorter than herself. He was wearing his best dress robes, just like everyone else in the room. He had straight, mousy brown hair, all laying neatly around his face. He was pale, probably from staying inside with his tutor all day. He, like her father, also had a trace of a smile visible in his cheeks. He looked about her age or less. Upon studying his face, Marisa realized she recognized him.



"Bored?" he asked.



She ignored his question and asked him another one. "I know you...you're the Braddock boy, aren't you?" she inquired.



He smirked and said, "So...I have a reputation already?" Marisa opened her mouth in shock. No one ever spoke to her like that.



She icily turned back around and replied, "No. I've seem you at some of my father's other business parties. Now would you please deflate your head and come back to Earth?" She studied her nails, finding them much more interesting than that boy at the moment.



"Gosh, I was only kidding. I guess you're no more interesting than the parents in here," he said, turning around as well.



As soon as that comment left his mouth, Marisa whirled around angrily. "How dare you? I simply don't like mingling with those whose egos are so large they cannot fit through a normal-sized door," she retorted.



"Well that won't be a problem, seeing that there aren't any normal-sized doors anywhere."



"Whatever," Marisa said. The conversation was decidedly over, so she got off the bench and walked away. As she stormed off, Tules got in her way. One glare got him running.



"Hey, wait up!" she heard someone cry. Marisa turned around, only to find that annoying boy following her. She out on the snobbiest face she could muster and looked down at him.



"I don't know what you've been taught," she began, "but when someone walks away from you, it generally means the conversation is over and the other person does not wish to speak to you." She turned around to walk away again. She saw the Malfoy boy watching them with interest. He called over a large boy to watch them with him. How he found his way back, she didn't know. "Let him digest that through his gigantic head," she thought. She began to walk away, but he caught her arm. She glared at him as he began to talk again.



"Well, sor-RY, Miss Grouch," he said while rolling his eyes, "I was just wondering if I could get the name of the girl who hates my guts to the point of wanting me dead," he said before letting go of her arm. At this point, the Malfoy boy and his large friend were snickering at their little "cat-fight".



Marisa turned around and informed him, "I don't hate your guts and I don't wish you dead," she took a breath, "I just want you to leave me alone." She was about to leave when she remembered the first part of his request. "Oh yes, and my name is Marisa Alvarez. Good day."



Before Marisa could walk away, the boy grabbed her hand again. "Nice to meet you, Marisa," the boy said, shaking her hand, "I'm Malcolm. Malcolm Braddock. And I will not leave you until you give me a tour of this magnificent house of yours." He let go of her hand and looked at her, as if expecting for her to drop everything she was doing to take him on his little "tour".



"Do you honestly think I don't have better things to do than show a little boy around my house?" asked an annoyed Marisa. She glared down at him and then looked around the room, searching for something she could do to avoid taking this egotistical little boy around her house. Malfoy and his friend got bored of the children now that they simmered down. Marisa saw Malfoy tap a woman's shoulder and walk away, laughing as she turned around.



"Actually, yes. If you had better things to do, you wouldn't have been sitting there on that bench, doing nothing. Just like me," he retorted, "And just for you're information, I'm not little, I'm 10 years old. Going on 11 in June."





"Well that makes me older than you. So yes, you are little," shot back Marisa, trying to stall the time when he would force her to show him the house. She frantically looked around, searching for a way out.



"Oh, no you don't," he scolded, "You're not getting out of this. I know for a fact that you're as bored as I am. Let's go." Before she could protest, he grabbed her arm in a similar fashion that he did 5 minutes ago and dragged her towards the door.



"Okay," he said, letting go of her arm, "tour time."