Chapter 3
Marisa and Malcolm walked through the reception room. Marisa was silently seething and didn't bother to once point out any of the interesting objects in the room to her partner. He
didn't seem to mind, Malcolm was content with just walking around with her, quietly admiring the fine works of art and the ancient pottery that adorned the room. Marisa, however,
had her mind on other things.
"Ugh." Marisa looked disgustedly at the little weasel who tricked her into showing him around the house. How did a boy 3 inches shorter than her force her out of a crowded ballroom and into the hall? It wasn't to much the idea of showing him around that bothered her, it was the way that....Malcolm boy got around to it.
"Honestly, I am the daughter of Mario Alvarez! How did I manage to get duped like this?" She quickly shut her mouth when she realized she was speaking out loud.
Malcolm looked up at her, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Talking to yourself, now are we?" Malcolm asked with a smile. Marisa noticed something she hadn't before, Malcolm
was missing one of his front teeth. It made him look even more like a little child. Still, he tried to act as grown-up and macho as he could.
He turned around and walked a ahead few feet with his hands behind his back, admiring a work of art. He looked rather like an art connoisseur deciding wether or not he would
purchase the portrait he was observing. Without turning around, he said, "You know, you really shouldn't keep things bottled up like that. It's bad for the blood. It's best to just let it
all out once in a while," he continued, trying to sound as adult-like as he could.
"You want me to let it all out?" Marisa said angrily. She walked in front of him, blocking his view of the room. Malcolm looked up to Marisa, standing as tall as she could to
intimidate him. He had a peaceful expression on his face, as if he was mildly amused. "Fine. I always get my way, and there is nothing and no one that can stop me. I never get tricked
or walked over by anyone and you just managed to do so in the span of 15 minutes. Can you please tell me how?" she asked in one long breath.
"My, my, don't we have a large vocabulary? Are you tutored as well?" Malcolm inquired. Marisa looked miffed that he had changed the subject, but she couldn't help but answer the
question, as he was praising her.
"Yes, in fact I am. I get tutored 5 times a week and in 3 different languages. Papa makes sure I am well educated," Marisa stated proudly. She stuck her nose in the air and crossed her
arms in typical spoiled brat fashion. After seeing the look on her "friend's" face, she put her arms down and tried again to be ladylike. Malcolm pretended he didn't just see Marisa have
a little hissy fit and continued with his inquiring.
"Three languages, you say?" Malcolm asked. He saw Marisa nod and then let out a long, low whistle.
"How do you say, 'Thank you for inviting me to your house, Mister Alvarez?'" he asked. He was hoping to impress the host of the party by showing off some bilingual speech. He
didn't notice Marisa smiling to herself as she answered his question.
"Usted se asemeja a una rata que muere gorda, Senor Alavrez," Marisa replied. She could see Malcolm looking up at the ceiling, struggling to remember it, and she couldn't wait until
the moment he spoke those hilarious words to her father. Once he was quite sure he remembered his sentence, he snapped his head back at Marisa as if remembering something.
"Hey, you're old enough to be attending school, right?" he asked.
"Well, I am going to be enrolled in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, why do you ask?"
"You don't say. I suppose I'll be seeing you there." Malcolm said it casually, trying to play it cool. He rubbed his fingernails on his jacket pocket, trying to come off as a very macho guy.
Marisa, however, was unimpressed. "Only if I have a horribly rotten day," she said and sulked. Malcolm stopped shining his nails and looked at her with a disgusted expression.
"You know, we just met and already you're treating me as if I'm some kind of muggle or something," Malcolm allowed a brief pause where they both shuddered, "You could at least
try to be charitable to one of your guests," Malcolm said. He put an emphasis on the word "guests". He glared at her and continued speaking.
"Now I believe the whole reason I'm walking with you is so you can give me a tour. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but generally on tours the guide actually explains some rooms and
objects to the tour-ee's...?" Malcolm finished his speech and looked expectantly at Marisa. He had a smug look on his face, as if saying 'I sure told her'. Marisa just laughed for some
reason.
Malcolm looked at her with a perplexed expression on his face and said, "What, did I say something funny?"
"No...its just that you sound ridiculous when you try to talk all fancy like that," Marisa said, still laughing. She took a look at Malcolm's open mouth and bursted out laughing again. The resemblence of Malcolm to a fish was just amazing.
"Oh well pardon me, Miss Fancypants. You seem to be getting away with it just fine." Malcolm walked a bit into the next room and Marisa walked with him.
"You bet your snitches I get away with it," Marisa said while walking. She made bigger strides to get in front of him until eventually putting a hand in front of his face, signaling for
him to stop walking. "Okay, halt."
"Who do you think you are, ordering me around like that? You know, just because I'm a guest doesn't mean..." Malcolm started, suddenly sounding like Marisa had less than 5
minutes ago.
Marisa rolled her eyes and said, "Calm down, geeze. You said you wanted a tour? Well I'm going to give you one." Marisa paused and cleared her throat to sound more tour
guide-like. "Here is the parlor. This is where we Alvarez's generally greet and entertain our guests in small groups. Here we have couches, tea tables and shelves all fashioned during
Victorian-esque England. As you can see, the furniture has been protected by a spell to preserve it for years to come." She allowed a moment for Malcolm to expect the surroundings.
The room was a deep blue with gold and white crown molding. A grandfather clock stood in the corner of the room, right next to the fireplace. Marisa checked the time. It was about
11:13, her father would be discussing business with his clients about now. In the center of the room, above the Victorian couch was mounted an oval-shaped portrait of the Alvarez
family. Marisa was much younger than she was in the portrait hanging in her room, about two or three years old. The portrait was again taken in the rose garden, with Marisa seated
on Athene's lap, occasionally looking into her mother's eyes and cooing. Mario was standing behind his family, his jacket thrown over his shoulder, looking down at his wife and
daughter. Marisa looked back at Malcolm, who was checking the furniture for dust.
"Squeaky clean," Malcolm decided, "House elves?"
"Yes, we have about 4 of them. We also have a regular witch in control of the kitchen."
"Ah," said Malcolm, "Our house elves were never good for cooking." He walked around the room again, looking into the portrait. Pointing at it, he said, "You were cute as a baby."
Baby-Marisa was now tugging on Athene's hair, much to her dissatisfaction. Athene did her copyrighted nose-wrinkle and swatted Marisa's hand from her hair. Baby-Marisa frowned
and turned around again.
Marisa smirked a bit and said, "Thanks."
"What happened?" Malcolm said, laughing. Marisa did not find it as "amusing" as Malcolm did. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and poised it over her head, ready to strike.
"Oooohh....you little..." Marisa began. She began to walk towards him menacingly. With every step Marisa took, Malcolm took one back. Malcolm had both arms crossed over his
head, bracing himself for the onslaught.
"Wait!" cried Malcolm in desperation, "It's Victorian-esque! Imported from London!"
Marisa's expression changed from fury, to confusion, and finally to hilarity. She suddenly placed the pillow back down on the couch and started laugh. Malcolm, finding no humor in
the situation, just stared at her. When Marisa saw his inquisitive look, she began to explain.
"You....you have no-no-no idea how.....PATHETIC you just-just looked!" Marisa finally managed to get out, holding her hands over her stomach, trying to stop laughing. Malcolm
still didn't see what was funny about the scenario. He looked into the portrait and saw baby Marisa giggling at him as well. He scowled and turned to Marisa.
"Am I really that funny?" he asked more to himself than to Marisa. She was unable to answer the question, however, because of her fits of laughter. He glanced at her again, and
regarded her with a funny look in his eyes, "You are so weird, Marisa Alvarez."
"So are you, Malcolm Bradock. I think we can be great friends." Malcolm opened his mouth to form a large "O". Marisa saw again his missing tooth. He placed both hands on his
cheeks and pretended to be astounded. He looked around the room, and then back to Marisa.
"What is this? Am I believing my ears? Did Marisa Alvarez actually offer her FRIENDSHIP to me?" Malcolm asked with mock surprise. Marisa calmed down a bit and looked at him seriously.
"Well, yeah. Being tutored all my life, I never really got a chance to be around other kids my age-"
"Less than your age."
"Yeah. And I kind of want a friend. I want someone who is loyal, trustworthy, funny, intelligent...." as Marisa's list went on, Malcolm got happier with each word. His smile got a little
bit bigger every second until it was ear-to-ear.
"But unfortunately," Marisa concluded (Malcolm was open-mouth smiling now, his eyes were closed), "you are none of those things, so I will have to be happy with you." Marisa
laughed when she saw her friend's gigantic smile fade into an angry mouth of protest.
"Hey!" Malcolm cried, undignified. "I made you laugh! I guess that counts as funny, right?"
"No, it counts as stupid. Shall we continue?" Marisa turned around and walked away before Malcolm got a chance to retort. They were pretty quiet walking to the next room, but
Marisa was sure she heard someone muttering things like, "Trustworthy? She should speak," and, "I am too funny!". Marisa just smiled to herself as she opened the door to the next room.
Marisa was greeted by the familiar heads and tapestries of the game room. The candles scattered around the room were now lit, giving Marisa and Malcolm a better view of the
intricate tapestries. Marisa looked up at all of the heads. She saw the yawning griffin with its thick, golden mane. The hippogriff was again eyeing Marisa and the "intruder". Marisa
just rolled her eyes at it and walked to sit down on the leather couch. Malcolm seemed surprisingly unimpressed by her father's collection.
"This is Papa's game room. This is where he stuffs and displays the trophies from each of his hunts. Next to the head you will find a tapestry depicting both the hunt and the animal
being brought down. Hand-stitched by nymphs, they channel some of their magic into every strand that goes into the tapestry. The result is the effect of the tapestry "moving" even
though the threads are woven securely to the pattern. Beneath every head is a plaque telling both the type of creature mounted and the date my papa took it down."
"Fascinating, yes," Malcolm said in a lazy drawl. He seemed a bit distracted and anxious to get somewhere. "Say, Marisa? Would you happen to know where your father makes all of
his business deals?"
"Well, yes. Papa usually brings his business friends to his office after a party, why?" Marisa noticed that Malcolm was now genuinely interested in what she was saying. She could see
the excitement in his eyes.
"What do you say we pay a visit to our dear old dads?" Malcolm said, "Now where is your father's office?" He began to walk away, looking for the office. Marisa, however, stayed
put. Malcolm turned around and asked her, "Well? Are you coming or what?"
Marisa was still shocked at what Malcolm was about to do. She demanded, "Are you suggesting we spy on our fathers?" Malcolm nodded so vigorously that his pointed wizard's hat
fell off. He placed at back on his head and tried to retain some of his dignity "Why in the world would we do that?"
"Because of what they're up to!" Malcolm explained, "Aren't you the least bit curious?" He stood with his arms folded and his head cocked to the side, waiting for an answer.
"Curious about what?" Marisa asked with a slight frown on her face.
"You've got to be kidding me! Are you this naive or am I catching you on a bad day?" Malcolm asked. Seeing the crestfallen look on his friend's face, he tried to be kinder to her. He
lower his voice and tried again.
"Surely you've heard the planning?" He asked in a much softer voice. Marisa looked up and shook her head, making her curls bounce softly around her neck.
"I don't hear much of Papa's business because he is away so much. In fact, he just got back from Albania today," she paused to look at the time again. It was 11:24. "All I know about
Papa's work is that he serves a very powerful wizard who fight to protect us purebloods."
Malcolm regarded her thoughtfully, going into "adult-mode" again. "Well, I suppose you wouldn't hear much about your father's business, being that he's a Searcher and all..."
Malcolm concluded. He stared at the ceiling and put his thumb and forefinger on his chin, rubbing it as if in deep thought.
"Yes...yes...Albania. Hmmm..." Malcolm said to himself, "The Jorkins lady was there...He's a Searcher, alright. High-ranking, I'd say. My father is actually a..." But Malcolm never got
a chance to tell Marisa what his father was. She cut him off before he got a chance to finish.
"Pardon me...Searcher?" Malcolm whipped up his head and nodded again, this time holding on to his hat, preventing it from falling off again, "Is that some sort of insult?"
Malcolm sighed. He would have a lot to explain to his new friend. "Yes, that's the title they give to the Servants who Search for the Lord, scouting and occasionally carrying out tasks
that the Lord is too weak to attend to himself." Marisa was appalled by this new information.
"I don't know what you've heard, Malcolm," Marisa said defiantly, "but my father does not...serve...anyone. Least of all this 'powerful Lord' who cannot even carry out a simple task
because he is too 'weak'." Malcolm just put both hands on his face and sighed deeply. Marisa was even more offended by that action, he was making it seem like she
was...ignorant...or something
Taking his hands off his face, he said, "You've certainly heard of Harry Potter?"
"No," said Marisa sarcastically, "I've NEVER heard of Harry Potter." Malcolm closed his eyes, as if asking some invisible being for patience. He placed his fingertips adjoining with
the fingers on the other hand, took another deep breath, and tried again.
"Okay, I will explain everything to you, on one condition. You must promise not to interrupt me," he paused, looking at Marisa. She nodded and her sea of curls bounced again. A
stray curl landed in the middle of her face and she blew the offending strand away with her mouth, "I will tell you on the way to your father's office. Lead me there."
Marisa didn't like being ordered around, but curious more than anything, she began walking towards her father's office. While they climbed up the stairs, she listened as Malcolm
informed her of their families' pasts and plans. She knew most of it, like about how the purebloods hated mudbloods and wanted to rid of them entirely, she was raised being taught
that. Some information was new to her, such as what her father actually did for a living.
"The man who tried to bring the Potter boy down," Malcolm started, "the Dark Lord, do you know anything about him?"
Marisa held onto the handrail, still remembering to be dainty ("One foot in front of the other, slowly"). She could hear some music still playing from the party and the occasional laugh
from the ballroom. She heard her father's booming laugh come from up above in his office. Some stragglers were walking about the courtyard, chatting and flirting. None of them
noticed two small children creeping up to the office.
After some thought, Marisa answered. "Yes. Papa and mother both praise him a lot. I know he is all for the purging of mudbloods and the cleansing of the wizarding world. I also
know the Potter boy did some wicked thing to bring this man down." Marisa tried to remember more but found she couldn't. "That's all I know."
"That's the old version," Malcolm said. He stuck one hand in his pocket as they reached the top of the stairs. "What your parents didn't tell you is that the Dark Lord has risen, that's
why your father has been taking so many business trips," he paused dramatically before continuing, "Our parents, pretty much every adult here, works for the Dark Lord. It's true, he
has returned, but he is not strong. Then men are discussing these issues in the office as we speak. In fact, look," he said, pointing to the open door of the ballroom. Most of the men
had vanished, "Don't you find it odd that half of the guests are gone when the party has barely started?"
"Why are you so interested in finding out what our parents are planning? Don't you trust them?" They were now walking down the hall. Marisa could see the portraits whispering to
each other, wondering what the strange boy was doing with their relative.
"Of course, I trust my father with my life, I'm just curious. Aren't you?"
Marisa opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, she heard the sultry voice of Aunt Sophie.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? It seems my favorite niece has returned...and with a boyfriend, I see!" Sophie lowered her spectacles to get a closer look at Malcolm.
Malcolm flinched until the large, thundering woman's gaze. He looked at Marisa, obviously trying to get her aunt to stop the inspection.
"Help me," he mouthed.
She turned to Thelia, "Scrawny little thing, isn't he? And far to young for her. Can't even keep all of his teeth in his mouth." Thelia cackled, as always. Marisa wondered if she had an
original thought in her whole head. She figured she probably didn't, she just agreed with whatever Sophie said.
Marisa, determined not to start a fight, just grabbed Malcolm's arm and marched right past Aunt Sophie. She heard the familiar calls of "I wasn't finished with you, girl! Come back
here and show your Auntie some respect!". Marisa gritted her teeth and did not stop until Aunt Sophie's last calls died out.
"Who was THAT?" Malcolm asked. He turned around as if nervous that the large woman would be behind him again, gazing at him from behind her large spectacles and tutting
around her friends.
"Long story," Marisa whispered, "and keep your voice down, we're nearing Papa's office."
No more than 5 seconds past when Marisa uttered that statement, when the room in front of them burst out laughing. Marisa and Malcolm tiptoed past the other portraits who,
thankfully, were sleeping. They walked up to deep green door. Marisa turned to Malcolm, put her finger to her mouth, and touched the door in four particular places. The door
*clicked* and opened very slightly. The noise was not heard by the men, who were laughing at another joke of Marisa's father's, probably making fun of some muggle or mudblood.
Very, very slowly Marisa inched open the door until they had a crack small enough to peer through with their eyes. Marisa's head went on top, for she was the tallest, and Malcolm
observed from below.
"Gentlemen, back to business." Marisa recognized the voice, it was the elder Malfoy. He rapped his cane on the ground 4 times to command the room to silence. The entire room
calmed down, 42 eyes were all pointed in his direction. He cleared his throat and began to speak. "It was with great pleasure that I extracted the information needed from the Ministry
official, a certain Ms. Bertha Jorkins. The Dark Lord ("There's that name again," Marisa thought) was as well pleased. He formulated a plan, a new plan," he emphasized the word
"new". Through the crack, Marisa saw a fat, balding man cower at this, "that will cover up for the mistakes," the man cowered again, "of some of our peers." The man looked away,
ashamed of himself.
"Gosh, look at that man blubber. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was a child," Malcolm whispered. Marisa elbowed him in the stomach to get him to be quiet. She heard a
slight "Oof!"and then started listening again.
"This year, two important events are to take place. One, the Quidditch Cup is being hosted in England this year. I expect all of you to be there, as discussed earlier. You know the
plan." At this, some men started chuckling evilly. It almost sounded like they were kindergardeners with a dirty prank in their minds. Marisa looked down and saw that Malcolm was
as confused as she was.
"Number two. For the first time in years, the Triwizard Tournament is to take place at Hogwarts. For the older gentlemen here, you will know what this means. For the others, I will
explain. The Triwizard Tournament is a competition among three schools, Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons. One student from each school takes place in a number of
dangerous events, and they are scored on how well they accomplish each task. We are going to get Harry Potter in the contest."
"But why?" the one named Warrington asked. Malfoy sent a deadly glare at him, as if mortified by the use of such a "moronic" question, but Mario cut in.
"I'll take this one, Lucius," he said. Mario walked to the center of the room with his arms behind his back, in a similar fashion to what Malcolm was doing in the reception room.
"Now, gentlemen, I trust that you all know the first plan?" he paused and waited for them to nod. When they did, he continued. "You know what the Lord was planning to do with
Mr. Potter, yes?" He waited for more nods. "Well the Triwizard tasks, they will be very dangerous for a 4th year wizard to overcome." The men looked around the room, still not quite
understanding the concept.
Shaking his head, Mario said, "I see I will have to spell it out for you. The Cup that Harry will be so desperately trying to reach will be a Portkey. Once we eliminate the competition,
there will be a clear shot for our scar-faced friend." Mario looked around dramatically and continued in a slow voice, "And do you know where the Portkey will lead?"
The men, finally understanding, shook their heads and laughed. Warrington gave a high-five to a wizard next to him. Mario, relieved that he had finally gotten the message across,
stood and walked towards his desk. He leaned against it, laughing at some joke he just heard. Marisa was about to leave when Malcolm stopped her. He pointed to the room and he
looked in her direction.
The men were now in a circle, brandishing their wands in the air. She heard them mutter some sort of incantation ("Morsmordre!") and a stream a green sparks erupted from each of
their wands. Marisa gasped, she had never seen anything so eerily beautiful in her life. She saw a small skull in the middle of the circle, a beautiful shade of emerald green. Out of it's
mouth slithered a majestic snake, hissing as something as he crawled. It dissapeared as quickly as it came.
Disappointed to see the beautiful emblem leave, Marisa unawarely stepped forward. It was just enough to let the door fly open and resulted in Marisa and Malcolm tumbling on the
floor. The group, strangely quiet for once, just stared at the intruders. Mario, however, seemed unsurprised.
"Ah!" he cried pleasantly, "It seems we have visitors!" He helped both Marisa and Malcolm to their feet before speaking. "Gentlemen, I believe you have already met my princess."
Marisa curtseyed upon hearing this. She flashed a smile at the group of adults, some that she knew waved back politely. She saw the younger Malfoy in the room as well, it looked
like he was the youngest member of the little "club". Mario inspected Malcolm. A spark of recognition entered his eyes.
"You," he pointed at Malcolm, "You must be Braddock's boy. The eyes are hair are just too familiar."
"Aye," the man who was supposedly Malcolm's father stepped forward. "That's my lad." Braddock pulled his son into his arm with a pained look on his face, it seemed he was
awaiting punishment for his son's mistake. Mario, however, just smiled and placed his hand on Malcolm's shoulder. He bent down until he was level with the boy.
"And I suppose you will be serving the Dark Lord when you come of age?" he asked.
"Sooner, if you would permit it," Malcolm responded. Marisa saw Braddock smile proudly at his son and heard the young Malfoy laugh as if Malcolm had just said something "cute".
The older Malfoy had another expression on his face. He wore the look of contentment.
"So I see we are recruiting ranks out of the cradle?" Malfoy said. Marisa could tell Malcolm didn't like the "out of the cradle" part, but he was immensely proud of being included in
the group. He turned to Marisa, "I suppose you, like your friend, will be joining us?"
Marisa looked around, nervous. Nineteen men sat around her, all expecting the same answer. She knew what she was going to say, it was just unnerving to be watched to intensely.
Malcolm was looking at her as well, curious as to what his friend would say. She saw her father wink at her, and that made her feel relieved.
Filled with courage, Marisa said, "If I could, I would join right this second." Mario smiled proudly at his daughter, just like Braddock did seconds ago. Malfoy looked around the
room as if making a decision, he was muttering things under his breath. Suddenly, he snapped his head up and looked at Mario.
"I don't see why that can't be arranged..." he started. Before he could finish, his son leapt up in a fury.
"But father, they haven't even attended school! I'm entering the 4th year and I still don't have the mark!" Lucius gripped his cane and shut his eyes, controlling his anger. Mario went to
go calm down the boy, but Lucius held a hand out to him. "No, I must deal with him."
He faced his son "Draco, you insolent boy," Lucius began ("So that's his name," Marisa thought, "Draco.) "If you would have let me finish I would have said there would be nothing
formal. Sit down and allow me to explain." The boy, humbled, found the large friend he was laughing with earlier, sat down and didn't say anything else.
"We have forces in school, but in a higher age group," Lucius began, "No one would suspect a child to be working against them." He paused as he was thinking of a plan. "Children
ask questions, correct? No one thinks anything wrong with that." He turned to Mario and Braddock, "Do you see what I'm saying?"
They both nodded. "Yes, they could be of some service to the Lord while they're training," Braddock said. Mario was a little more hesitant.
"Only if there will be no danger for my princess," he began. Lucius turned around and inspected him, moving his gaze up and down. Mario did not show any signs of regret. Lucius
walked closer to him, menacingly.
"Alvarez," he started coldly, "you know there will always be danger." He paused, "I question your commitment to the Lord."
Marisa looked up at her father, reassuring him. "It's okay, Papa. I can take care of myself," she said. Mario sighed. He looked at the floor in defeat. He suddenly perked his head up as
if he had a new idea. Lucius noticed.
"What, my observant friend?" Lucius asked, "What is your idea?" Mario walked around, still thinking up his plan. He made wild hand motions while thinking. He continued for a while
until he looked up, smiled, and walked towards Lucius again.
"I will allow my daughter to continue on one condition," Mario said, pointing his forefinger up. Lucius glanced at him from where he was standing with an amused look painted on his
face. He always liked Mario's ideas.
"Go on..." he said.
"I wish to have Marisa and her little friend trained with some of our magic before the start of school."
Lucius pretended to let the idea roam in his head for a while. He placed his hand on his chin and rubbed it. Marisa now knew where Malcolm got all of his antics from. He watched the
older men and simply copied their movements. Lucius snapped his head up, looked at Mario and the Braddock, and smiled.
"Deal" He walked across the room to shake hands with both parents. He then turned around and faced the other "club-members" in the room. "Let this be an example," he said. "Train
your children, prepare them for a life of servitude. Show them what it's like to be a Death Eater." As he finished his speech, a few men clapped.
"Thank you," he said to his "audience". He then faced Marisa and Malcolm and again, stooped to their height. "Now children," he said, "Don't you think it's time you ran along."
Marisa, remembering her manners, curtseyed before she said, "At once, Mr. Malfoy." From the corner of her eye, she saw Malcolm follow her and bow.
They both turned around and walked out of the room. Once outside, both children leaned against the wall and slumped down until they were sitting. The portraits were not asleep
anymore; it appeared they had listen to the whole conversation. Marisa's ancestors all looked appreciatively at the pair for following the Lord they once did. Marisa looked over at
Malcolm with excitement. When she saw his glowing face, she knew that he was as happy as she was to be made a "Jr. Death Eater". Marisa suddenly remembered that she didn't
know what that meant, so she asked Malcolm.
"Malcolm, what is a Death Eater?" she inquired.
"Aren't you a slow one? It's the title they actually give to the followers of the Lord. And now, we're one too." He saw Marisa open her mouth in protest, so he quickly added,
"Unofficial, of course."
"I wonder what this means," Marisa said wistfully, toying with a strand of curls. Malcolm got up, brushed himself off, and answered.
"I know what this means," Malcolm said with a smile.
"Oh..?"
"We're going to the Quidditch Cup! Yahoo!" Malcolm got up, ran down the hall, and clicked his heels. Marisa didn't even get a chance to tell him off. She stood up, tried to smooth
out the wrinkles in her satin dress, and walked down the hallway, shaking her head.
"Boys," she muttered to herself.
Marisa's head was swimming with so many thoughts, she didn't even hear Aunt Sophie ridiculing Malcolm.
