Author's notes: If you don't know what hair sticks are, you can find them at the LongLocks HairSticks Boutique-- www.longlocks.com I wear them all the time, but mine are not nearly as cool as the ones Mr. Borgin sells at "Borgin & Burkes!"

"The Enchantress" is actually a beauty salon in Memphis. But unfortunately I think it only accepts Muggle clientele.


Chapter Seven

"Draco, I can't possibly have an entire wardrobe of green clothes." I tried to hold still as Madam Malkin charmed yet another set of robes to fit me.

"Why not?" Draco asked. He leaned back into his chair as though he were a young lord perusing his subjects. "It's my favorite color. Besides, dark green looks so good on you. It matches your eyes. It's a shame you're not going to Hogwarts, you'd look good in Slytherin." A thoughtful look crossed his face. He had been trying to figure out a way to convince his father to let me attend the school all morning.

"Young Master Malfoy is right, you know," Madam Malkin told me with a simper. "He has exquisite taste. Black would be much too harsh for your coloring." She explained to me that proper witches from the old pureblood families have a certain standard for dressing. Anyone would be able to discern my good breeding by what I wore.

"And those horrible robes that you like," With a wave of his hand, Draco indicated the dress robes of purple and green velvet that I especially had my heart set on. They were cut in a medieval fashion, with long, flowing sleeves and a gold belt. "They're too flashy. They're like bloody Christmas tree ornaments."

"I like Mardi Gras colors," I muttered. "And who cares what color you like? They're my clothes."

"Now, Miss Silverthorn, what you wear will reflect upon young Master Malfoy, and his parents. You do want to be presentable, don't you? I am sure that Mrs. Malfoy will have a coming-out party for you, to introduce you into pureblood society." Madam Malkin glanced toward Draco for approval. Honestly, it was just sickening.

Ever since we had flooed into Diagon Alley, Draco had transformed into an ultra-mature, sophisticated young man, and everyone in the shops catered to him. You'd think he was royalty or something. Even on the street people constantly bowed to him, and greeted him as "young Master Malfoy." He had taken a rather possessive stance with me, gently yet firmly guiding me away from Flourish & Blotts bookstore and toward the robe shop. From time to time I caught him watching me as if I was a piece of candy he owned and he wondered how I was going to taste.

I fidgeted impatiently as Madam Malkin tugged and adjusted the robes around me. I was dying to explore Diagon Alley. It seemed I had only caught a glimpse of the fascinating shops on the way here, and I had a small bag of Galleons burning a hole in my pocket. Mr. Malfoy had given it to me before he cast an anti-postal spell on me (no doubt to repel any owls or phoenixes that Professor Dumbledore might send my way) and took off for his business at Gringott's bank.

"Can we go to Flourish and Blotts now?" I asked. I was much more interested in spending money on books than I was on clothes.

"No, my little bookworm." Draco smirked. "You have to go to The Enchantress Beauty Shop. That's where my mum goes. You have to get your hair done."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Pureblood witches don't wear their hair down, not unless they're little girls. You also need to get a manicure."

I glanced down at my nail-bitten hands. Being a pureblood witch certainly took a lot of maintenance.

Draco pulled a long piece of parchment out of his pocket. "Mum gave me a list of things you need to get started with. You also need hair pins, a formal dress, gloves, some shoes, stockings, and a copy of Persephone Pettigrew's guide to Pureblood etiquette. Oh, yeah, and some underwear. Knickers and um, things." He handed the paper to the shopkeeper.

"And what color do you think those should be, Young Master Malfoy?" I asked sarcastically. "I wouldn't want to offend anyone's fine, pureblood sensibilities."

"Well, you'd better model them for me, just to make sure they're alright," he smirked. His gaze lingered on that part of my anatomy that was no doubt destined for a green bra.

I was considering slapping that disgusting leer off his face, when Madam Malkin began twittering and chirping like a bird. "Oh, Master Malfoy, you are your father's son. You're just as charming with the ladies. I'm can't tell how pleased I am for you, finding your long lost cousin." She sighed dramatically. "Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls are just going to die of disappointment."

Draco looked as though the idea pleased him greatly.

"Huh?" I thought that was rather an odd thing to say. At times I felt that there was some part of their conversation that I was missing.

She continued, her eyes misting up with unshed tears. "Poor Miss Silverthorn, being raised as a Muggle." Her hand fluttered up to her cheek as though she was overwhelmed with the thought of it. "It's just like those stories you hear about baby wizards who become lost in the wilderness and are raised by wild animals. They're not discovered until years later."

"I know, Madam Malkin, and by the time they're found, the poor things are just savages." Draco tightened his lips, as though to keep from laughing.

I'd had enough. "You know, Draco, I bet your dad would love those flashy robes," I said in my sweetest voice. "By the way, did you ever get around to telling him the truth about the Galleon in New Orleans?"

"No," Draco muttered. He glanced at Madam Malkin, and frowned at me.

"Did you tell him all about my television? That was pretty funny. For someone who supposedly hates Muggles, you sure-"

"Madam Malkin." To my surprise, Draco paled and then his cheeks flushed pink. "I believe I've changed my mind about the dress. Please add it to my mother's account. After all, Halloween will be here in another six months or so. Perhaps Miriel can use it as a costume." He glared reproachfully at me.

I left the shop wearing robes that were dark green silk, shot through with silver thread that shimmered throughout the material. I carried a shopping bag that had all my shrunken clothes and accessories in it, including my beautiful purple, green and gold dress.

"Don't say things like that, Miriel." Draco hissed in my ear. "Especially not in front of that woman. She's the biggest gossip in Diagon Alley."

"Maybe you should try being a little more respectful. I was just teasing you, anyway. I wouldn't really tell your dad anything."

To my surprise, Draco pulled me into a narrow, shadowed alley between the shops, where we could not be overheard by people passing on the street. "You don't understand," he said. "This is very serious. If there's any kind of rumor that I'm interested in Muggles or that I'm soft toward them, it might make people suspect my loyalty."

"Loyalty to who?" I asked.

He ignored my question. "Crabbe and Goyle are always watching me for any little slip up. All the Slytherins are. Their mothers go into that shop all the time. They'd love to run and tell their fathers anything that would embarrass my father or make him look bad. They'd love to tell their fathers that Lucius Malfoy's son was turning into a Muggle-loving fool like Dumbledore or that stupid git, Weasley."

"But you don't hate Muggles. Well, you didn't seem to hate me when you thought I was a Muggle," I told him, a little confused. In New Orleans Draco hadn't been Prince Charming or anything, but there had never been a moment that I was actually afraid of him. But then, I realized, he had been wandless.

"Look," he sighed. "I don't want to attend school with Mudbloods, and I wouldn't defile myself by marrying one. But I don't want to torture them." He sounded as though he were confessing a huge burden.

"Ugh. They torture Muggles?" I shuddered, and had a sudden, horrible thought about the dungeons under Malfoy Manor.

"Nobody can know that I feel this way. They can't know that I'm...weak." He clenched his jaw, and for a moment his eyes were filled with pain.

"Oh, Draco, I don't think you're weak. I'm glad you don't want to torture Muggles." I laid my hand on his arm. "I won't say anything to anybody. I promise."

"I know you won't." He took out his wand and moved closer to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a note of nervousness trembling in my voice. I backed up from him, until my back pressed against the side of the building. "Draco, don't!" I glanced out toward the street, but I didn't see anyone passing by.

"Silentium," he whispered. "Silentium facero." The tip of the wand blazed into a hazy, lavender light. It shone on his pale hair, and danced in his silvery eyes. For a strange, scary moment, he looked much like his father. He touched my lips with the polished wood.

"Ow!" It felt like a cold, electric shock. "What did you do?" I clapped my hand over my mouth, and I began to tremble. It was such an awful, helpless feeling to know that someone had power over me, power that I didn't understand.

"It's okay. Don't be afraid." The palm of his hand grazed my cheek. His thumb ran over my lower lip, smoothing away the shock and the iciness. "It's just a silencing spell. My parents used it on me all the time. Tell me something about New Orleans. Tell me about the Muggles on the television."

I opened my mouth, but to my horror, no words would form. My lips were paralyzed. "I can't," I finally gasped. "That's not fair!" I tried to push him away from me, but he was too heavy. "Are you going to do this every time I say something you don't like? How am I supposed to keep you in line?"

He laughed softly. "You're not supposed to keep me in line. A proper, pureblood witch is supposed to be docile and submissive to her wizard." He pressed closer in against me. Even though he was slender, I could feel his hard muscles shift under his robes. He nuzzled the sensitive skin under my ear. "She should be willing to do whatever it takes to please him," he murmured against my neck.

"I guess I will never be a proper, pureblood witch, then, will I?" I drew a sharp breath, and resisted a sudden impulse to slide my fingers into his silky hair, to stay there and let him kiss me. "And you are definitely not my wizard!"

"I will be," he breathed into my ear.

I elbowed him in the ribs, and pushed my way quickly by him. My voice shook, this time with anger. "You are just a brat! You just wait! You just wait until I get a wand!" I knew I sounded childish, but at this point I didn't care. The spell had made me feel helpless and out of control, which in turn made me furious. Mr. Malfoy had told me that I was supposed to go to Ollivander's today and purchase a wand, and now I was really looking forward to it.

"You won't know what to do with it when you have one." I heard his laughter behind me as I ran out into the street. Draco caught up to me and grabbed my hand. "Come on, don't sulk. I bought you a present yesterday, when I was getting my new wand."

I slapped his hand away, and looked at him suspiciously. "So? That doesn't change the fact that you're a big jerk. Why did you wait until today to give it to me?"

"I was waiting for the right moment." He said.

"Like when you need to butter me up?" I muttered.

Draco smiled and held out a small narrow package wrapped in layers of gold tissue. Sealing the tissue was a gold sticker that said, "Borgin & Burkes." "Tell the lady at the beauty shop to use these to pin your hair up."

They were a pair of exquisite hair sticks, shaped like thin, serpentine dragons, and topped with huge emeralds. The scales on the dragons glittered like silver frost, while the jewels flashed in the sun like green fire. I gasped in spite of myself. "These are beautiful." I couldn't imagine how expensive they must have been.

He screwed off one of the emerald tops, showing me how the inside of the hair stick was hollow. "You can hide poison and other potions in them. They're coated inside so that the potions can't eat through the metal. And don't worry, they're not cursed or anything. I made sure of that."

I stared at Draco, not quite knowing what to make of him.

"Thank you," I said. "I've always thought dragons were kind of cool. I guess you can be nice, in a spooky kind of way. But don't think this means that I forgive you. I actually felt sorry for you, and in spite of my promise, you had to go and cast some horrible spell on me."

"I didn't want you to say anything accidentally," Draco said. "You don't understand our world yet. You don't know how-"

"Cruel and treacherous it can be? I already got that speech from your dad yesterday."

"Well it's true." After a moment, Draco grinned. "Did he tell you that "Knowledge and power are most important in the wizarding world?" I've heard that speech since I was five years old."

I laughed in spite of myself. I was feeling a little better by the time we came to the sign that read, "The Enchantress Beauty Shop."

"Oh no!" Draco stopped in front of the window. "What is she doing in there?"

"What is it?"

"Professor Winterwind is in there, with Professor Sprout." I could tell by the grimace on his face that he didn't want to go in. "Why can't she go to a Muggle beauty shop?"

"I can get my hair done by myself. Why don't you go ahead to the Quidditch supply shop. I can meet you later." I tried not to act too eager, but the thought of running wild in the bookstore without Draco hovering over me and peering over my shoulder was a tantalizing one. With my luck, there was probably a huge list of books that were not proper for pureblood witches to read.

"Father told me not to leave you alone." He hovered in the doorway, as if unsure what to do. He had mentioned earlier that morning that there were some professional Quidditch players at the supply shop today, and that they were signing broomsticks. He was dying to go.

"Go! I'm nineteen years old, for goodness sake. I'll meet you at that wand shop in a couple of hours or so."

"Okay." Draco nodded, a look of excitement forming on his face. "Ollivander's is down the street on the right. And for Merlin's sake, don't turn left. Stay out of Knockturn alley. It can be a really dangerous place and you don't want to go there without me." Before I could say anything more, he took off like a shot, as if he expected Professor Winterwind to be chasing him at any moment.

A lady at the salon charmed my hair into elaborate, upswept braids that she pinned with my new dragon hair sticks. They wouldn't come undone until I said the releasing charm. She gave me a magical manicure. She also used some kind of cosmetic charm that improved my looks without looking as though I was wearing makeup. I was naturally a little pale, and the charm added color to my face and made my eyes stand out more. I even got my ears pierced, with tiny, emerald earrings. The stylist was so happy at all the money I was spending that she gave me a free book of grooming spells and hair bewitching charms.

Finally I got to go into Flourish and Blotts. I strolled into the coolness of the bookstore, and breathed in the wonderful scent of old paper. The first thing that caught my eye was a huge display of books. Looking at the cover of one of them, I saw that it was entitled, "Mysterious Malignant Magical Mirrors, a history of the use of mirrors in the dark arts," by Lucius D. Malfoy." On the cover was a moving photo of Mr. Malfoy holding his snake-headed walking stick. He was flinging back his long, platinum hair from his shoulder and smirking.

"What a surprise," I muttered sarcastically at the title. "At least it's not something like "Torturing Muggles For Fun and Profit."

"As much as I don't approve of everything in Lucius' book," A gentle, husky voice said from behind me. "I have to agree that he understands the nature of mirrors. I suspect that he is so fascinated with mirrors, because they remind him of himself."

I turned. A tall, elderly man stood there. Bright blue eyes twinkled down at me behind half-rimmed glasses. He looked like a pleasant, hippie-grandpa, in a light blue business suit. An immense, silver-white beard flowed over his chest, almost hiding a tie that was sprinkled with moons and stars. A ponytail hung halfway down his back. I liked him immediately.

"Both of them deal with illusion, Miss Silverthorn. Mirrors can show wonderful things, what we most wish to see. They can persuade us of many things. They can also be unpredictable, false and dangerous."

"Oh." I blinked at him in surprise. "How do you know my name, Mr-?"

"Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore." He clasped my hand in greeting. The skin of his hand was dry and papery, but his grip was strong. "I can't tell you how delighted I am to meet you, my dear, and to find you unharmed."


Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! (Tosses out Mardi Gras Beads- Blows kisses)

Thank you, Merryday and Chocoliciouz!

Dragonwing: Thank you so much for your encouragement. I've been having a few computer problems this week. Yes, I've been a bit busy- job hunting, graduation, reading epic fantasy novels, daydreaming about Lucius Malfoy... I usually work on a few chapters of my story at one time, and I try planning out the story in advance so I don't find myself at a dead end. I, too, have been frustrated at reading great stories that poop out. I prayed to the patron saint of fan fiction at the beginning that this would never happen to my story!

Escaped: Thanks again so much for your great reviews and your encouragement! I'm glad you liked Malfoy Manor. I was lucky enough to tour castles in Ireland one summer, and I try to use details from real life (like the flecks of gold in the castle stone) to make my story seem more real. I hope your computer is behaving itself. Please let me know if anything in my story is boring or needs improving. I'm also NOT a Harry Potter expert, so if you see anything in my little Harry Potter world that is not correct, it would be nice if you'd let me know. HAVE A GREAT VACATION! Thanks!