Chapter Two
Hospitality
She couldn't have told you when she woke up. She wasn't, after all, sure she had been...out? That wasn't it. It had felt like she was frozen, and then she couldn't see, couldn't feel. She flexed her fingers, and tried to move her arm. Blinking, she realized she was inside somewhere; there was a rug under her, that the air was very warm. Oh, shit...she thought. There were ropes around her wrists and ankles. She lay very still.
There was a small sound of a footstep somewhere behind her, and as she couldn't see through the back of her head she had no way of knowing what sort of person it was. She guessed she was in their house, and fearfully wondered how this person, with his tiny, squeaky-voiced security guard, treated trespassers.
A hand on her shoulder shook her, and then rolled her onto her back. She found herself staring up into the face of a pale, blonde man with long hair, who looked into her eyes for a moment, and then smiled.
"I know you're awake, young lady, there's no use pretending. It was very clever of you though, I must say. How long have you been conscious?"
She gave a powerful start and let out her breath. "All right, you got me. I was trying to see who you were before you knew I was awake."
He took a step back and looked at her impassively. She was trying to move into a sitting position and found it hard to do, her limbs still sluggish, as well as tied. "Agh, what did you do to me?"
A smile flickered across his face and he raised a single eyebrow. "What is your name, young lady, and what were you doing on my property?" He had a slow, smooth, cultured voice. She could tell he knew how to get people to tell him things, and that she might be in danger. She decided, though, that honesty was the best policy for a raggedy, legally missing, homeless girl in the home of a private individual who, at least so far, had decided to take the law into his own hands.
"My name is Spiky...Bella Thorne, I mean. I didn't mean any harm sir, I was running. From the police."
"I see." He lifted an eyebrow at her nickname and she saw a bit of a smile flit across his face as he took in her metal-studded clothes. "And why were you doing that?"
"I broke in to sleep somewhere, but it was condemned and I didn't know, I thought it was just abandoned. The police found me there with some others, and they were going to arrest us, cause they thought have were the same ones they'd kicked out before and told not to come back. I took off running because I didn't want them to take me back home."
Looking around the room, she saw that it was furnished in an opulent, but extremely strange way. She looked at him more closely, and realized he was wearing some of the strangest clothes she'd ever seen, like great long robes that fell to the floor and made him look just about as damn scary as you could wish to see. His face was still impassive, with this look of sardonic curiosity that gave her the shivers all over again.
"And how did you happen to find this place? How did you get in?" he asked, his voice neutral, but curious.
"I climbed over your wall. I wouldn't have, sir, except that your neighbours have, umm, very persuasive guard dogs."
"Really, you just came to the edge of the property, climbed over the wall, and jumped?"
"Why are you looking at me like that? It wasn't a hard wall to climb, except for the glass...look, if you don't believe me, look at my hand - I cut it coming over." She tried to gesture with her bound hand, to indicate the left one.
Still in the same polite, interrogative tone, he asked "No trouble at all? You didn't get lost or...frightened on your way in?" She could tell how closely he was watching her.
"I don't follow you, sir. It was very dark, yes, and it was hard to find my way, but I didn't see anything that frightened me, until I was stopped."
He regarded her, for the first time, with something other than that strange detachment. It looked almost like surprise, though she couldn't figure out what was so surprising. Did he have wild animals in his yard, is that what would have frightened her?
"And are you absolutely certain that nobody told you to come here? Perhaps made it worth your while to do it, given you a little something to come through here and nose around, see what you could find out?"
Oh Christ, he's crazy...he's crazy AND he thinks I'm lying to him...she thought frantically. She shook her head vigorously. "No, no, sir, I don't know who you are...nobody paid me off to come here."
He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, facing away from her. "Well, if you say so. I believe you."
He rounded suddenly on her, and made a quick gesture made with a long thin something he held in his hand. "Liberarus" he said, and the ropes that had held her wrists and ankles fell to the floor and vanished. Her mouth dropped open, but she could think of nothing to say.
He held out a hand to her, and helped her get to her feet.
"What did you just do?" she asked him in a whisper. "Who the hell are you?" How had he done that? Maybe there was a reason someone would want to hire homeless kids to spy on him, he didn't seem so crazy now.
"My name," said the stranger, "is Lucius Malfoy. You'd best get used to it, Bella Thorne, because it seems to me you come to the right place. Didn't you have any idea?"
"Idea of what?"
"You're a witch, young lady, if I'm not very much mistaken. Had it never occurred to you?"
"Well, no, can't say that it did..." why the hell would it?
"How old are you?"
"Fourteen."
He shook his head regretfully. "And you never received any...odd letters, starting a few years back?"
"No, I don't think so..."
"Oh, if you had, believe me you'd know," he said dryly. "And would you mind if I asked who your parents are?"
"My real parents, you mean?"
"How many do you have?" he asked her, with a raised eyebrow.
She blushed. "No, I mean, the people I lived with are my foster parents. I have no idea who my real ones are, Never heard anything about them. My foster parents' name is Torrington."
"Where did you get your name, then?"
"Bracelet I was wearing when I turned up. It said 'Bella Thorne' on it. I suppose they put it together. Beats being named by a stranger at a charity hospital. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"I brought you in because you have a familiar face. I had a sneaking suspicion, just a small one. It's larger now, and more than a suspicion. You remind me of someone very much. It's a family resemblance..."
"You mean my parents? Did you know them? How?" All the while thinking, This cannot possibly be happening. Did I get knocked out in the fall? What the hell is going on?
"Perhaps I do mean your parents. So you don't know anything about them?"
"They aren't even on my birth certificate. I didn't think anyone knew, I always thought I was one of those babies they find in dustbins, and I was just lucky enough to get out before I froze or suffocated."
He gave a small, disdainful laugh. "You're a long way from that now, Bella, whatever you may think. Here," and he made a sweeping gesture at the chairs before the fireplace. "Take a seat. I want to talk with you."
She followed him to the big armchairs, and took a seat in one. With a shock, she noticed that her clothes weren't wet any longer. Feeling her sleeve, she looked over at him. "Did you do this," she said, indicating her clothes.
He nodded. "Only a spell. A simple one at that." He saw her eyes widen involuntarily at the word 'spell'. "You'll get used to it soon, don't worry. There is a lot I want to tell you."
"Feel free to start talking, you know, whenever you're ready." It was a nervous habit of Bella's to get cheeky when frightened.
"Quite a mouth on you, Bella. Patience.
"As I said, you're a witch. So were your mother and father. You should be proud; they were some of the best in their...field. You've got the potential to be as good as them, and better.
"Unfortunately, your schooling should have started three years ago. Don't worry; these are all details, to be worked out in their own time."
"But wait," she said with an edge of wonder to her voice, "Schooling? Where in hell do they teach..." The cheek had left her, replaced by what might have even been respect, something she had not felt towards many people in her life. There was gratitude, too, and there was also still fear, of this strange man who was telling her all these things she had never even imagined.
"Hogwarts, my dear, a fine place, though it has its share of flaws and follies." Then he added, as if to himself, "But you can't start now, it's the middle of the term...and of course you'll have to be caught up. You couldn't start as a first-year now, I wouldn't dream of putting you in classes with a bunch of eleven year olds." He shook his head, and added, "No, no, my conscience would never forgive me." He paused, looking off into space.
"You can't be serious!"
He fixed his eyes on her. "I am serious as the grave. There is a lot that you don't know about magic, but the first thing I ought to tell you is that an untrained witch is a very dangerous thing, especially if she hasn't a clue to her own powers. Yes, I do mean you." He said, in answer to her look. "She is a danger to herself and the people around her. I can tell you know what I mean."
She did know what he meant. As she let herself think on it for a moment, things were coming back to her, things that she had tried to make herself not think about. And the old feeling came back, a terrifying, exhilarating sensation of something inside her rising up in her defence, forcing her to protect herself without knowing what she did. "Oh God," was all she could manage.
"I want you to think very hard about this. I did know your parents, and the longer I sit in a room with you the more I see them in you. I wouldn't like to think that I hadn't done the right thing by the only child of my old friends.
"You are a welcome guest, and I hope you are willing to stay the night here. Tomorrow morning I will talk seriously with you about it. I have every intention of making sure you are taught everything you should know. Do you accept my offer?"
She looked at him hard for a moment, and then she nodded. "You're very kind," she said, still not sure she could believe what was happening and then being afraid not to believe. "Er, can I ask you something?"
"Of course," said Lucius Malfoy.
"How did you know I was a witch?"
"Well, for one thing, you were able to find the house."
"Why does that –"
"This place is covered in spells, spells to hide it and befuddle any Muggles who come near it, whether by accident or on purpose. You got through the barrage without that difficulty. I knew you were a witch, it just took a little extra questioning to find out that you, of all people, hadn't noticed it yet."
"Muggle?"
"Ordinary, non-magical human being," he said, as though this was a thing he thought very little of.
"I see," she said. She unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn as she spoke.
"You're tired," he observed coolly. "I can have a room prepared for you, and we'll talk more about this in the morning. I know my family will be thrilled to meet you." This last bit was spoken thoughtfully, his cultured drawl letting it out slowly, turning the words over as they passed his lips.
She could not think of anything to say.
"Lerrick will take you to your room, then. Lerrick!" he called in a louder, more commanding voice than he had yet used.
Lerrick? she wondered.
There was a pop! and standing before them was the strangest looking little creature she had ever seen in her life. It wore what looked like an old handkerchief, and was a little over a foot high, with a large head and proportionately large, bat like ears. She could not have told if the little creature was male or female or if things like that were even meant to apply to it.
"Master called?" It asked in the same squeaky little voice that had scared the daylights out of her when she had been running through the woods.
"Lerrick, take this young lady to one of the spare bedrooms," he ordered curtly, "and make her comfortable." Then with a glance at Bella, he laughed, noticing the look of dumbfounded surprise on her face. "Lerrick is a house-elf, Bella," he said. "They're a sort of...servant that many wizards keep. Don't worry, he won't hurt you." There was a half-smile on his face that made her realise just how funny her reactions to magic had been so far. She laughed as well.
"There's a million things I want to tell you, Mr. Malfoy, but they all come down to 'Thank You', so that's what I say. Thank you." She shook her head. "Of all the strange luck, to bring me here," said Bella in disbelief. "Dear God..."
"You are welcome, my dear. But don't worry yourself about thanking me. Goodnight."
She returned the pleasantry, and left the room, following the house-elf down the hall.
Hospitality
She couldn't have told you when she woke up. She wasn't, after all, sure she had been...out? That wasn't it. It had felt like she was frozen, and then she couldn't see, couldn't feel. She flexed her fingers, and tried to move her arm. Blinking, she realized she was inside somewhere; there was a rug under her, that the air was very warm. Oh, shit...she thought. There were ropes around her wrists and ankles. She lay very still.
There was a small sound of a footstep somewhere behind her, and as she couldn't see through the back of her head she had no way of knowing what sort of person it was. She guessed she was in their house, and fearfully wondered how this person, with his tiny, squeaky-voiced security guard, treated trespassers.
A hand on her shoulder shook her, and then rolled her onto her back. She found herself staring up into the face of a pale, blonde man with long hair, who looked into her eyes for a moment, and then smiled.
"I know you're awake, young lady, there's no use pretending. It was very clever of you though, I must say. How long have you been conscious?"
She gave a powerful start and let out her breath. "All right, you got me. I was trying to see who you were before you knew I was awake."
He took a step back and looked at her impassively. She was trying to move into a sitting position and found it hard to do, her limbs still sluggish, as well as tied. "Agh, what did you do to me?"
A smile flickered across his face and he raised a single eyebrow. "What is your name, young lady, and what were you doing on my property?" He had a slow, smooth, cultured voice. She could tell he knew how to get people to tell him things, and that she might be in danger. She decided, though, that honesty was the best policy for a raggedy, legally missing, homeless girl in the home of a private individual who, at least so far, had decided to take the law into his own hands.
"My name is Spiky...Bella Thorne, I mean. I didn't mean any harm sir, I was running. From the police."
"I see." He lifted an eyebrow at her nickname and she saw a bit of a smile flit across his face as he took in her metal-studded clothes. "And why were you doing that?"
"I broke in to sleep somewhere, but it was condemned and I didn't know, I thought it was just abandoned. The police found me there with some others, and they were going to arrest us, cause they thought have were the same ones they'd kicked out before and told not to come back. I took off running because I didn't want them to take me back home."
Looking around the room, she saw that it was furnished in an opulent, but extremely strange way. She looked at him more closely, and realized he was wearing some of the strangest clothes she'd ever seen, like great long robes that fell to the floor and made him look just about as damn scary as you could wish to see. His face was still impassive, with this look of sardonic curiosity that gave her the shivers all over again.
"And how did you happen to find this place? How did you get in?" he asked, his voice neutral, but curious.
"I climbed over your wall. I wouldn't have, sir, except that your neighbours have, umm, very persuasive guard dogs."
"Really, you just came to the edge of the property, climbed over the wall, and jumped?"
"Why are you looking at me like that? It wasn't a hard wall to climb, except for the glass...look, if you don't believe me, look at my hand - I cut it coming over." She tried to gesture with her bound hand, to indicate the left one.
Still in the same polite, interrogative tone, he asked "No trouble at all? You didn't get lost or...frightened on your way in?" She could tell how closely he was watching her.
"I don't follow you, sir. It was very dark, yes, and it was hard to find my way, but I didn't see anything that frightened me, until I was stopped."
He regarded her, for the first time, with something other than that strange detachment. It looked almost like surprise, though she couldn't figure out what was so surprising. Did he have wild animals in his yard, is that what would have frightened her?
"And are you absolutely certain that nobody told you to come here? Perhaps made it worth your while to do it, given you a little something to come through here and nose around, see what you could find out?"
Oh Christ, he's crazy...he's crazy AND he thinks I'm lying to him...she thought frantically. She shook her head vigorously. "No, no, sir, I don't know who you are...nobody paid me off to come here."
He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, facing away from her. "Well, if you say so. I believe you."
He rounded suddenly on her, and made a quick gesture made with a long thin something he held in his hand. "Liberarus" he said, and the ropes that had held her wrists and ankles fell to the floor and vanished. Her mouth dropped open, but she could think of nothing to say.
He held out a hand to her, and helped her get to her feet.
"What did you just do?" she asked him in a whisper. "Who the hell are you?" How had he done that? Maybe there was a reason someone would want to hire homeless kids to spy on him, he didn't seem so crazy now.
"My name," said the stranger, "is Lucius Malfoy. You'd best get used to it, Bella Thorne, because it seems to me you come to the right place. Didn't you have any idea?"
"Idea of what?"
"You're a witch, young lady, if I'm not very much mistaken. Had it never occurred to you?"
"Well, no, can't say that it did..." why the hell would it?
"How old are you?"
"Fourteen."
He shook his head regretfully. "And you never received any...odd letters, starting a few years back?"
"No, I don't think so..."
"Oh, if you had, believe me you'd know," he said dryly. "And would you mind if I asked who your parents are?"
"My real parents, you mean?"
"How many do you have?" he asked her, with a raised eyebrow.
She blushed. "No, I mean, the people I lived with are my foster parents. I have no idea who my real ones are, Never heard anything about them. My foster parents' name is Torrington."
"Where did you get your name, then?"
"Bracelet I was wearing when I turned up. It said 'Bella Thorne' on it. I suppose they put it together. Beats being named by a stranger at a charity hospital. But what does that have to do with anything?"
"I brought you in because you have a familiar face. I had a sneaking suspicion, just a small one. It's larger now, and more than a suspicion. You remind me of someone very much. It's a family resemblance..."
"You mean my parents? Did you know them? How?" All the while thinking, This cannot possibly be happening. Did I get knocked out in the fall? What the hell is going on?
"Perhaps I do mean your parents. So you don't know anything about them?"
"They aren't even on my birth certificate. I didn't think anyone knew, I always thought I was one of those babies they find in dustbins, and I was just lucky enough to get out before I froze or suffocated."
He gave a small, disdainful laugh. "You're a long way from that now, Bella, whatever you may think. Here," and he made a sweeping gesture at the chairs before the fireplace. "Take a seat. I want to talk with you."
She followed him to the big armchairs, and took a seat in one. With a shock, she noticed that her clothes weren't wet any longer. Feeling her sleeve, she looked over at him. "Did you do this," she said, indicating her clothes.
He nodded. "Only a spell. A simple one at that." He saw her eyes widen involuntarily at the word 'spell'. "You'll get used to it soon, don't worry. There is a lot I want to tell you."
"Feel free to start talking, you know, whenever you're ready." It was a nervous habit of Bella's to get cheeky when frightened.
"Quite a mouth on you, Bella. Patience.
"As I said, you're a witch. So were your mother and father. You should be proud; they were some of the best in their...field. You've got the potential to be as good as them, and better.
"Unfortunately, your schooling should have started three years ago. Don't worry; these are all details, to be worked out in their own time."
"But wait," she said with an edge of wonder to her voice, "Schooling? Where in hell do they teach..." The cheek had left her, replaced by what might have even been respect, something she had not felt towards many people in her life. There was gratitude, too, and there was also still fear, of this strange man who was telling her all these things she had never even imagined.
"Hogwarts, my dear, a fine place, though it has its share of flaws and follies." Then he added, as if to himself, "But you can't start now, it's the middle of the term...and of course you'll have to be caught up. You couldn't start as a first-year now, I wouldn't dream of putting you in classes with a bunch of eleven year olds." He shook his head, and added, "No, no, my conscience would never forgive me." He paused, looking off into space.
"You can't be serious!"
He fixed his eyes on her. "I am serious as the grave. There is a lot that you don't know about magic, but the first thing I ought to tell you is that an untrained witch is a very dangerous thing, especially if she hasn't a clue to her own powers. Yes, I do mean you." He said, in answer to her look. "She is a danger to herself and the people around her. I can tell you know what I mean."
She did know what he meant. As she let herself think on it for a moment, things were coming back to her, things that she had tried to make herself not think about. And the old feeling came back, a terrifying, exhilarating sensation of something inside her rising up in her defence, forcing her to protect herself without knowing what she did. "Oh God," was all she could manage.
"I want you to think very hard about this. I did know your parents, and the longer I sit in a room with you the more I see them in you. I wouldn't like to think that I hadn't done the right thing by the only child of my old friends.
"You are a welcome guest, and I hope you are willing to stay the night here. Tomorrow morning I will talk seriously with you about it. I have every intention of making sure you are taught everything you should know. Do you accept my offer?"
She looked at him hard for a moment, and then she nodded. "You're very kind," she said, still not sure she could believe what was happening and then being afraid not to believe. "Er, can I ask you something?"
"Of course," said Lucius Malfoy.
"How did you know I was a witch?"
"Well, for one thing, you were able to find the house."
"Why does that –"
"This place is covered in spells, spells to hide it and befuddle any Muggles who come near it, whether by accident or on purpose. You got through the barrage without that difficulty. I knew you were a witch, it just took a little extra questioning to find out that you, of all people, hadn't noticed it yet."
"Muggle?"
"Ordinary, non-magical human being," he said, as though this was a thing he thought very little of.
"I see," she said. She unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn as she spoke.
"You're tired," he observed coolly. "I can have a room prepared for you, and we'll talk more about this in the morning. I know my family will be thrilled to meet you." This last bit was spoken thoughtfully, his cultured drawl letting it out slowly, turning the words over as they passed his lips.
She could not think of anything to say.
"Lerrick will take you to your room, then. Lerrick!" he called in a louder, more commanding voice than he had yet used.
Lerrick? she wondered.
There was a pop! and standing before them was the strangest looking little creature she had ever seen in her life. It wore what looked like an old handkerchief, and was a little over a foot high, with a large head and proportionately large, bat like ears. She could not have told if the little creature was male or female or if things like that were even meant to apply to it.
"Master called?" It asked in the same squeaky little voice that had scared the daylights out of her when she had been running through the woods.
"Lerrick, take this young lady to one of the spare bedrooms," he ordered curtly, "and make her comfortable." Then with a glance at Bella, he laughed, noticing the look of dumbfounded surprise on her face. "Lerrick is a house-elf, Bella," he said. "They're a sort of...servant that many wizards keep. Don't worry, he won't hurt you." There was a half-smile on his face that made her realise just how funny her reactions to magic had been so far. She laughed as well.
"There's a million things I want to tell you, Mr. Malfoy, but they all come down to 'Thank You', so that's what I say. Thank you." She shook her head. "Of all the strange luck, to bring me here," said Bella in disbelief. "Dear God..."
"You are welcome, my dear. But don't worry yourself about thanking me. Goodnight."
She returned the pleasantry, and left the room, following the house-elf down the hall.