Author's note: The silencing spell that Draco uses on Miriel in Chapter Seven comes from the fantastic story "Not For Sale," by Escaped. I thought I made it up, but no, I read it in her story, and it stuck in my subconscious. (That's what happens when you read too much fan fiction!) :-)
Chapter Eight
"Lucius appears to be taking care of you." Professor Dumbledore looked over my appearance, noting my new, expensive clothes. "Very good care of you, indeed. Most astonishing." He shook his head. "I've known that man since he was a first year at Hogwarts, but once in a while he still manages to surprise me."
"But... how do you know who I am?" I asked. "How did you know I was here?" I glanced around the bookstore, wondering if he had apparated in. He did just seem to appear out of nowhere.
"It is the headmistress, Minerva McGonagall's job to know all the names of potential students that fall within our jurisdiction." The old gentleman told me. "I was quite astonished to find your name among them. I assume, then, that this indicates that you have not received any education as a witch?"
I shook my head. "I didn't even know I was a witch until Mr. Malfoy found me in New Orleans."
"So that's where you were, in the States. I've often wondered about that over the years. As to your second question, all Hogwarts letters are enchanted to reflect the location of the recipient, even when it changes, and as you are the only young lady present in this section of the bookstore..." He handed me an envelope, and it had written on it in green ink:
Miss. Miriel Silverthorn
Diagon Alley
Flourish & Blotts
Dark Arts Section
"And my dear, you do look very much like your father," He added with a gentle smile.
"Thank you!" I gazed at the envelope in wonder. "Did you come all the way here just to give this to me?"
"I admit that I was most distressed when Fawkes failed to deliver it to you yesterday." His blue eyes suddenly became serious. "Please, tell me Miss Silverthorn, what of your mother?"
I told him about my mother dying a year earlier.
"When I saw your name on Professor McGonagall's list," he said, removing his glasses and wiping the tears from his eyes, "I was afraid that Lucius had found her, and had taken you captive. I realize your mother's death must have been hard for you, my dear, but it was better for her to have died in such a way, than to have fallen into Lucius Malfoy's hands. There are things that are much worse than death." The Professor hesitated before saying gently, "After your mother escaped, Voldemort forced Lucius to kill Gaius, and that made Lucius very bitter toward your mother."
My mouth fell open. "How awful. He had to kill my father?"
Professor Dumbledore patted my shoulder kindly. "I know it's a shock. We have so much to talk about. Why don't we sit down and have a cup of tea? I admit I'm rather busy today, but I do have enough time for a bit of a chat."
Evidently, Flourish & Blotts had recently opened up a tiny tea shop inside the store, where customers could read magazines or visit. There were a couple of tables near the windows, and we sat down to a pot of tea and a little plate full of cookies and scones. Soon Professor Dumbledore was munching away, and brushing cookie crumbs out of his beard. There was a sharp intelligence in his eyes that didn't quite fit his elderly, rather eccentric persona.
"You sound like you knew about me," I told him. "Mr. Malfoy didn't even know that my mom was pregnant with me when she left."
"I believe that only your father, myself and Professor McGonagall knew of your mother's pregnancy. I knew both your mother and father at Hogwarts, of course," Professor Dumbledore told me. "I aided Miranda the best I could. I was saddened when I learned of your father's death. Those were very dark times." He rubbed his brow briefly as though the images that ran through his mind were painful.
"But why didn't my father run away with her?" I asked.
"Voldemort branded his followers with a special marking, known as the Dark mark. It is a magical link burned into the flesh of their arms, and it connects the Death Eaters to him. When he calls, they must respond immediately and go to him."
I vaguely wondered why he was using the present tense. "I have to ask you something, Professor." This was a question that had been bothering me for the last few days. "My mom had a boyfriend, a partner in the shop she owned. He was really... mean. If all this time she was a witch, why didn't she do something to stop him?"
"There was always the possibility that Miranda could have been traced had she performed any kind of magic," he told me. "Every witch and wizard has a kind of personal magical signature. Even the mirrors she created would have held this signature. Her instinct to protect you must have kept her from giving into the temptation to use magic. She must have believed that it was better for you to live as a Muggle than live in the Wizarding world such as it was. Even after Lord Voldemort was vanquished, there were still many former Death Eaters, such as Lucius, who would have wanted revenge on her."
My eyes filled with tears. "It's not fair," I whispered. Both of my parents had died because they wanted to protect me.
"I know, my dear." Professor Dumbledore's eyes were filled with warmth and concern. "Lord Voldemort created many such orphans as yourself." He handed me a purple silk handkerchief, and I sniffed into it for a few moments.
"Please tell me, how has Lucius been treating you?" He asked when I had recovered a bit.
"He's been pretty nice to me," I told him. "Well, except for getting kind of cranky after your letter came. The phoenix bit him."
Professor Dumbledore just chuckled as though he thought this was hilarious. "I'm afraid Fawkes takes his duties very seriously."
I told the headmaster all about Mr. Malfoy wanting to get me a tutor and about Draco taking me to buy new clothes and a wand. "Do you think that all of this is because Mr. Malfoy feels guilty or something? He doesn't really seem like the uncle type."
"Does Lucius actually have the capacity to feel guilt, I wonder. Perhaps, my dear. It may have been guilt that fueled his rage toward your mother. It was he who pressured Gaius to become a Death Eater in the first place. They were not close and tended to be rivals for their father's approval, but Gaius was much younger than Lucius, and so Lucius may have felt somewhat responsible for him. I've known Lucius long enough, however, to know that if you have captured his attention, it's because he feels you will be useful to him in some capacity." Professor Dumbledore held up a flaky cookie, made with many layers of crust. "I like to think of it this way, that Lucius' motivations come in layers. He's not a simple man, and usually his goals have many different aspects to them."
Just then the shop door slammed opened behind me. I turned to glance behind me, only to see a clump of boys enter the shop. They were chattering something about "cannons."
"My dear," The headmaster said. "I couldn't help just now but notice those large, beautiful emeralds in your hair. May I ask where you acquired them?"
"Draco gave them to me. They're hair sticks, in the shape of dragons." I patted my braids with my hand. The sticks still felt heavy and cold on the back of my head.
"How interesting." Here Professor Dumbledore peered at me over his half- moon glasses. There was a quizzical little smile on his face. "How are you getting along with him?"
Something about the look on his face made me nervous. "Why do you ask?"
"It's just that traditionally, in old pureblood families, extravagant hair pins are a gift that is quite commonly given as a sign of betrothal. It's a little like giving someone an engagement ring. The custom has rather quaint origins. In ancient Britain, witches' powers were said to reside in their long, luxurious hair. Hair ornaments became a way of-"
"Wait! Back up! What are you saying?" I must have been hearing him wrong.
"Have the Malfoys given any suggestion to you that they wish you to marry Draco?" Professor Dumbledore asked gently.
"No," I squeaked. But to my horror, I began to remember Madam Malkin's strange little comments, pieces of Mr. Malfoy's speech in the garden, and Mrs. Malfoy interviewing me at the dining table. Most of all, I remembered the words Draco whispered to me earlier that day in the narrow alleyway between the shops. "I can't marry Draco. That's just wrong!"
"Why is that, my dear?" The headmaster popped another cookie into his mouth.
"Well, because he's too young. He's annoying. And he's like...my cousin! I mean, the Malfoys are strangers to me. It doesn't feel like he's my cousin, but still..."
"Ah, yes." He nodded. "America is the only country in the world that harbors a cultural taboo against cousins marrying. I'd like to remind you, my dear, that you are immersed in another culture now. This is not considered incestuous in Britain, even among Muggles. Among the pureblood wizard families, it is even considered as preferable. I want to assure you that no one would harbor any kind of prejudice or ill feelings toward you if you did consider such an offer."
"You mean you think I should consider it?" I asked, shocked.
"I'm not saying anything, my dear. I just realize that you are in a rather sticky situation."
"Rather sticky" was an understatement. "But why would the Malfoy's want me? When Mr. Malfoy was annoyed with me, he called me poor and illegitimate. I was raised like a Muggle. They practically think I'm an ignorant savage. I would have thought they'd want someone rich, like they are!"
"You are poor when it comes to money, yes that is true. But I suspect that Lucius is well aware that you are the legal heir to many magical mirrors that have been in the Silverthorn family for centuries. The Silverthorn family is older, and your blood is perhaps even purer than that of the Malfoys. In the wizarding world, the mirror-magi have been the closest thing that we have to royalty. They're second only to the Ollivanders. That, combined with your inherited ability to create such mirrors, would make you a great asset for the Malfoy family. Perhaps because you have no other close relatives, Lucius believes that you would be easily controlled. And if he has any remnants of guilt about the past, providing for you may be a way for him to ease his conscience."
He looked thoughtful for a few moments, and then his face became grim. "I don't want to alarm you, but I doubt very seriously whether the Malfoys have discussed their... alliance with you."
"Alliance?" I had a bad, prickly feeling at the back of my neck. I didn't know if I could take any more shocks today.
He leaned in a little closer to me, his eyes intent on mine. He reached across the table and took my hand. "My dear, what do you know of Voldemort? The Dark Lord?"
"Um, that he was vanquished by some kid? When Draco was a baby."
"The Dark Lord returned two years ago." Professor Dumbledore tightened his hand on mine. "And Lucius serves him once more. Actually, Lucius is very high in the ranks of Death Eaters. A kind of first Lieutenant, if you will."
"Oh, no!" I felt the blood drain from my face. A horrible, cold chill gripped me, and I felt a heavy weight in my stomach. I was in serious danger of crying again.
'I don't want you to panic." The headmaster said. "I just feel that it is always better to know the truth, no matter how difficult it is."
"What am I going to do?" My pulse raced, and all of a sudden I felt the urge to run away, to run back to New Orleans and just be a Muggle again.
Professor Dumbledore must have read this on my face, because he said, "The worse thing you could do is run, my dear. I could take you to Hogwarts right now, and while you would be safe while you were there, Lucius would come after you. He is ruthless, and you would spend your life looking over your shoulder. It would not do to make him your enemy."
"When Mr. Malfoy came to New Orleans," I told the headmaster, trying to get a grip on my emotions. "He was looking for magical mirrors. What exactly was he looking for?"
"Your mother had been working on a particular mirror for Lord Voldemort, before she fled the wizarding world. It was one which would have given him a frightening amount of power. Lucius may have been looking for that. No doubt he could not conceive of anyone breaking such a valuable item, especially the creator herself."
"Where is the mirror now?"
"I feel that it is not prudent to reveal that to you at this time." Dumbledore said regretfully. "I-"
At that moment two boys who looked to be about Draco's age flew through the shop door and almost bumped into our table. They moved so fast, they looked like two blurs, one with red hair, and the other, with black.
"Boys, boys!" Dumbledore grabbed his tea cup so that it wouldn't be knocked over. "Where's the dragon?"
"Oh! Sorry, professor Dumbledore!" The black-haired boy skidded to a stop and looked very surprised to see the headmaster. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His black hair was wild and messy, and the glasses perched in front of his green eyes were slightly skewed. "We're here to buy the autobiography of the Chudley Cannons," he said in a breathless voice. "The team members are supposed to be at the Quidditch supply store today."
"And we need the books so they can sign them." The redheaded boy panted. "We're running late today. Mum wouldn't let any of us leave until we had cleaned the whole house!"
"Hang on. Excuse me, professor," the black-haired boy stared at Professor Dumbledore's suit. "I'm just not used to seeing you outside of school, and in..."
"Muggle clothing?" The headmaster smoothed his star-dusted tie with his hand. "Yes, I am conducting a few job interviews in Muggle London today."
"For a new Muggle Studies teacher, I hope!" The redheaded boy said. The other boy jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. "Well, why else would he be interviewing Muggles?" The redhead then noticed me. I saw him glancing at my clothes, and then a slight look of distaste crossed his broad, freckled face. It was obvious that he had already taken a dislike to me, for some reason.
"I'm waiting for both of you gentlemen to find your manners." Although his voice was serious, Profesor Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with amusement. "May I introduce you to Miss Miriel Silverthorn?" He turned to me. "And these elegant young men are Harry Potter, and Ronald Weasley."
"Hello," they said and nodded. Harry suddenly looked a little shy, as if expecting that I would recognize his name. And it did sound very familiar...
"Miss Silverthorn will soon be joining us at Hogwarts." Professor Dumbledore beamed proudly.
I blushed. "Um, I don't really know if that's going to happen," I half mumbled, too embarrassed to explain myself to the boys.
Professor Dumbledore just nodded and smiled. "Well, trust me, my dear, these things always have a way of working out."
After the two boys disappeared into the sports section to find their books, Professor Dumbledore helped himself to another lemon cookie. He then pulled out a tiny, white book-bag out of his suit pocket. "I have been giving these welcoming packages to all the Muggleborn first years who arrive at Hogwarts," he told me. "They do have an awful time of it, leaving their families and the Muggle world behind. Some of the items may seem a bit too young for you, but perhaps you will find them cheering. You can restore them to normal size once you are alone."
"Thank you." I peered inside the small bag, and found a few books with bright yellow and black covers, a bag of lemon drops, a stuffed toy dragon, some stationary with little owls printed on them, and a few little games and toys that I didn't recognize. I decided right then that Professor Dumbledore was a little goofy, but he meant well.
"Those last two books I included especially for you. They are excellent, based on a series of Muggle books. Now I realize that you are no dummy, my dear." He smiled. "It's just a bit of a joke. These books help to provide the most basic of information to people who are unfamiliar with our world. I suspect that you will experience culture shock, as you will be facing not only our wizarding culture, but our British one as well. You will find the pureblood wizard families, such as the Malfoys, still carry on traditions that are centuries old. I believe there's a special chapter on them."
"Thank you!" I picked one of the miniature books up. It was entitled, "The Complete Dummy's Guide To The Wizarding World." The other was a similar guide to "Magical Mirrors," and the third title was a little different. It read, "The Complete Dunderhead's Guide To Potions."
"My potions master, Severus Snape, contributed that third one," Professor Dumbledore said proudly. "He is quite a talented and brave man. And one-" here Professor Dumbledore peered at me again over his half-moon glasses. "That I trust implicitly." With those words, he took out a pocket watch, which I saw was spinning with tiny planets and galaxies. "How time flies! I hate to leave you like this, but I'm afraid I must go now, Miss Silverthorn. Where are you running off to now, may I ask?"
"I'm getting a wand," I had been so excited about it, but my conversation with Professor Dumbledore had shaken me up. "I'm supposed to meet Draco there pretty soon."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two boys in the front of the store paying for their books.
"Harry!" Professor Dumbledore motioned him over to our table. "I know you're in a hurry, but could you please do me a favor and show Miss Silverthorn to Ollivander's? This is her first time here. She was raised as a Muggle, and she just needs a bit of direction."
Ron's mouth dropped open slightly, and he frowned as if he couldn't believe that the headmaster was asking such a thing. "But, Professor, the Quidditch players-"
"Will still be there for a few more minutes," Professor Dumbledore stated firmly.
Harry stood forward. "I'll go, I don't mind, Professor." He gave his book to Ron. "Go ahead without me, Ron, I'll be there in just a minute."
Thank you to all my reviewers!
Thanks to Chocoliciouz and Oberon!
Rycca Wolfbane: Thank you so much for your reviews, and for your e-mail. I've been trying to reply to it, but I'm having computer problems so I'll probably wait until I can get to the school library. Actually, Miriel probably is a Mary Sue when it comes to hair! I'm pretty hair obsessed, and spend money on outrageously expensive hair junk. I just wanna run my fingers through Lucius Malfoy's silvery locks!
Escaped: I'm Sorry I accidentally ripped off your spell! How embarrassing! If you're a Latin wussie, I'm a Latin faker. ( I use a Latin dictionary but I don't know how to conjugate the verbs or anything. It's not proper Latin, believe me! Yes, it looks like Miriel has a secret weakness for "bad boys" as well. Don't worry, terrible Lucius temper tantrums are coming (hehehe)
