Chapter Eleven

A flutter of wings caught my eye. An owl floated through the broken window of the office, carrying a red envelope. I assumed the bird would fly to the wizard, so I was surprised when it landed gently on my knee. I looked to Mr. Malfoy. He seemed just as confused as I. I gingerly picked the envelope out of the bird's beak.

"That is a howler," Mr. Malfoy announced. "But who would be sending..." He stuffed his fingers in his ears.

A split second later, I knew why. I thought for a moment the envelope had exploded. A roar of sound filled the room and probably would have shattered all the windows if Mr. Malfoy hadn't just broken them himself.

"—DRAGGING MY SON'S NAME THROUGH THE MUD IN THE DAILY PROPHET! WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH THAT POTTER BOY, YOU LITTLE TRAMP? IMAGINE MY HORROR AT FINDING OUT AT MY ST. MUNGO'S CHARITY BALL PLANNING COMMITTEE! I COULD HAVE DIED OF SHAME--"

Mrs. Malfoy's voice, screeching a hundred times louder than usual, made my ears hurt. I gaped at Mr. Malfoy in horror. News must travel very fast in the wizarding world.

"—YOU JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET HOME, YOU LITTLE WITCH! MY POOR SON! I AM GOING TO HEX YOUR—"

I didn't get to find out exactly what part of my body Mrs. Malfoy was going to hex, because the red envelope suddenly burst into flame. With a gasp I dropped it on the floor, where it curled into ashes.

"The Daily Prophet?" Mr. Malfoy asked. He immediately began searching through the papers on his desk. "That arrived a short time ago, but I was too occupied to read it." He finally found the newspaper and unwrapped the ribbon around it. After studying the cover of it, he turned to me with an angry snarl. "How in Merlin's name do you explain this?" He shoved the front of the newspaper into my face.

The newspaper headline read: THE DAILY PROPHET- SPECIAL EDITION. THE BOY WHO LIVED AND HIS TRAGIC TRIANGLE OF LOVE.

"Triangle of love? My eyes widened with surprise. "What does that have to do with me?"

Underneath the headline was a colorful, moving photograph of Draco slugging Harry in front of Ollivander's shop. There was also one of Draco trying to drag me through the shop doorway. My little photograph self was shrieking at him. If I had known I was going to have my picture taken, I would at least have closed my mouth.

Towering over me, Mr. Malfoy began to read the article aloud, forcing the words through his clenched teeth. "Harry Potter, the hero who has suffered a tragic past, has at last found love, and is willing to fight for it! He was seen in Diagon Alley early this afternoon escorting a stunningly pretty girl who was discovered to be a long lost heiress of the Silverthorn family."

"Stunningly pretty?" I was flattered in spite of myself.

Mr. Malfoy shot a glare at me, and continued to read. "A close friend of the couple, who wishes to remain anonymous, informed this reporter that the young lady is betrothed to none other than Draco Malfoy, son of the wealthy philanthropist, Lucius Malfoy. "Boys will be boys," My informant told me, when asked about the Muggle duel that ensued between the young rivals. "I saw Mr. Potter place his arm tenderly around Miss Silverthorn as they looked at her new wand, and I knew that love had blossomed." Sadly, Mr. Potter was brutally beaten by his opponent, but this reporter is convinced that The Boy Who Lived has triumphed over many such obstacles in his young life, and that this challenge will only fan the flames of his passion."

"Flames of passion?" I said, raising my eyebrows.

Mr. Malfoy flung the paper down on his desk. "What...were...you...doing...with HARRY POTTER?" He yelled, making me jump.

"I didn't realize who he was," I told the wizard hastily. "Harry was just showing me to the wand shop, and-"

"You just happened to run into Harry Potter? There are hundreds of wizards running around Diagon Alley, and you just happened to run into that brat?"

"At the bookstore. Professor Dumbledore asked him to show me-"I stopped, remembering too late that that was the worse thing I could possibly say.

"That doddering old fool is behind all of this!" Mr. Malfoy snarled. He began to pace once more, and I was afraid he would erupt into another fit of rage. You'd think he'd be getting tired out by now.

"Um, I don't see how," I told him tentatively. "It was an accident that Harry was in Flourish and Blotts."

"Whatever it was, Dumbledore attempts to use every situation to his best advantage. He may seem only like a harmless, kindly old man to you," Mr. Malfoy said. "But he is conniving, and far from innocent. And while all of this love was "blossoming" between you and Potter, Draco was nowhere to be found!" Mr. Malfoy clapped his hands and bellowed for a house elf. When one popped in cowering and bowing, the wizard said, "Bring me my son. Now!"

Mr. Malfoy wiped his face with his hands. His face was white, and I saw that his hands were actually trembling.

"There's nothing to the story," I assured him. "Really. Draco attacked Harry for no good reason, and the newspaper just exaggerated everything to make it more interesting."

"You do not understand," Mr. Malfoy told me, and his silvery eyes narrowed. "It makes no difference whether the story is true or not. The Dark Lord is obsessed with Potter. The entire wizarding world could be overrun with Muggles, and that brat is all the Dark Lord cares about." His voice was laden with resentment, and I had the impression that this was something that had bothered him for some time. "Anything that Potter does captures his interest. Now thanks to this ridiculous article, you will soon be capturing his interest as well. Now it is my duty to run and inform the Dark Lord of today's events. I only hope that someone else hasn't already done so. It always makes him more suspicious of me when others have the first word. It seems to trigger dramatic episodes of paranoia."

I felt sick to my stomach. "You mean that he didn't know about me before?"

"I was not following my Lord's orders when I went to New Orleans," Mr. Malfoy told me. "I was acting on my own behalf. No doubt he will summon me shortly, after your little escapade today, and I will end up having to give an account of all my actions."

The next question stuck in my throat. "Do you think he'll want me to become a... Death Eater?"

"Good gods, no. Wherever did you get that idea?" Mr. Malfoy looked at me strangely. "With the exception of my charming sister-in-law, Bellatrix, the Dark Lord does not usually approve of women serving him in that capacity. He does not trust women. He believes them to be weak and unpredictable. He values them more as pureblood breeding stock. No, you are rather useless to the Dark Lord right now as a servant. You are as ignorant as a Muggleborn first year."

"Will the Dark Lord make you kill me?" I whispered, finally giving words to a fear I had been harboring since my talk with Dumbledore.

For the first time, some of the anger seemed to drain out of him. "I do not wish you to be harmed," Mr. Malfoy finally said, and for a moment I saw a genuine flash of something like concern in his eyes. "The way to survive the Dark Lord, Miriel, is to be obedient and useful. I have spent many years being just that. Right now your usefulness lies in getting married to my son, and producing little, future Death Eaters who will someday serve the Dark Lord. That purpose right there should ensure your survival."

"Ugh. That's a horrible thought." I couldn't stand the thought of any children of mine serving the Dark Lord. It was very depressing.

"Your husband will be a Death Eater when he comes of age, my dear, so you'd better get used to the idea."

"Draco? Does he want to become one?" I began to tell him my doubts about that, but instantly found that I could not do so. I guess Draco's silencing spell was holding up quite well.

Mr. Malfoy snorted, but I didn't get to find out what he was about to say, because at that moment, Draco appeared in the doorway. "Father?" He glanced anxiously in my direction, and something in my face made him step back from Mr. Malfoy uneasily.

With a hiss of a spell and a jab of his wand, Mr. Malfoy sent his son shooting backwards through the air. Draco slammed against the wall behind him, and slid down to the floor. The impact was so great that it was a surprise that Draco had not been knocked unconscious.

"You are an imbecile," Mr. Malfoy shouted down at him. "For not following my orders. For not listening to me. For making a public disgrace of yourself. You were seen in a public brawl, fighting like a common Muggle." He grabbed Draco by the collar of his robes and pulled him up. "If you insist on acting like a Muggle," The wizard hissed in his face. "I will treat you as a Muggle."

A look of fear covered Draco's face. "No, Father. Don't! I hate the dungeons!"

"Let him go," I pleaded, and tugged at Mr. Malfoy's arm. "You're not going to do anything horrible to him, are you?"

Mr. Malfoy shoved me away from him. "It's none of your bloody business how I discipline my own son," He snapped. "Stay out of this, or you will find yourself sharing his fate."

With a loud popping sound, they disapparated.

For a strange, intense moment I relived the painful feelings I used to experience back in New Orleans while watching my mother's boyfriend hit her. I again felt the helplessness and the rage. I couldn't bear to think of Draco being abused. I chewed on my new manicure and wondered what I should do.

The entrance down into the dungeons was a long ribbon of steps that was cut into stone. I hesitated there, and from down inside the maze of tunnels, I heard the boom of a heavy, metal door slamming. I could hear Mr. Malfoy's curses and snarls echo down through the stone corridors. This went on for quite some time. Strangely enough, I didn't hear Draco scream or anything, so I guess he wasn't being tortured.

The tapping of footsteps echoed up the stairs, and Mr. Malfoy pushed his way past me, clutching his arm with his hand and grimacing as though he was in great pain.

"What did you do to Draco?" I asked him.

"My Lord is summoning me," He told me, his voice oddly flat. "I must go immediately." A strange transformation overtook him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and it seemed to me that all emotion left him. It was as though all feeling and warmth escaped his body, and his face became like white stone. His eyes became shards of gray ice. Without saying anything more, he left.

The dungeons were not anything like the ones I had seen in movies. The stone walls were white, for one thing, and the flecks of gold that ran through them glittered in the torchlight as I walked along the corridor. I smelled water and dust, but the floors were almost too clean. It was a confusing maze of tunnels and prison cells more than anything. I certainly did not want to become lost.

"Draco?" My voice sounded weak, and bounced off the stone walls.

"I'm in here!" A muffed voice came from behind a heavy door that looked like it was made of solid iron, and there was only a tiny slit of a window cut into it. I could barely see one of Draco's eyes. "Bloody hell, I hate it in here," He said. "It's not fair. I didn't know that the Daily Prophet was going to make up a lot of rubbish. It's all Potter's fault."

"Are you okay?"

Draco gave a heavy sigh of relief. "Yeah, this room has a timed-release spell on it. Father puts me in here to give himself time to cool off. He's afraid that if he punishes me magically when he's this angry, he'll lose control and end up killing me. Usually the spell is set to open the door in two or three days, but I'm supposed to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow! I wonder if he forgot..."

"I think your dad needs therapy or something," I told him.

"What?"

"He has huge mood swings between being nice and losing his temper. Maybe he needs medication. Don't you guys have wizard psychiatrists who could help him with that?"

"He's been like that since You-Know-who returned," Draco said. "He's gotten to be a nasty git since then, especially after he was released from Azkaban last year- that's a wizard prison. It's like there's two different sides to him. I think it must be all the stress he's under. My mum started drinking, too, and I think she's become addicted to prescription potions."

"I was under the impression that your parents want to serve the Dark Lord."

"At school during my third year, the Dark Lord released a huge basilisk into the school to get rid of the Mudblood students. But then he decided to forget all about the Mudbloods and go after Potter. It ruined the whole thing. Father is still resentful about that. One night I overheard my mum and dad talking. The Dark Lord has been going through a lot of magical transformations since he returned to the wizarding world, and my parents suspect this hasn't had a good effect on his state of mind. They think that he's becoming more and more mental." Draco whispered this last part, as though someone was going to overhear us. I had to put my ear up to the little window to hear him.

"You're not going to try and put another silencing spell on me, are you?" I asked him suspiciously.

"No. This door repels magic, for one thing. That's why I can't get out even though I have my wand. It even repels all the unforgivable curses. Father planned it that way. I am his only heir, you know." There was a sad note in Draco's voice, and it made me wonder for a moment how it would be to have Mr. Malfoy as a father.

"Do you need anything before I go?" I asked him. I was feeling drained and exhausted by now. I was looking forward to relaxing in my room before bed. I felt sorry for Draco, but I was too tired to stay up all night long keeping him company.

"There's a little sliding door at the bottom here," Draco said. "That's where the house elves bring food to me. Bring me my quidditch magazines, some chocolate biscuits, a pillow, and-"

"Something tells me that your dad doesn't want you to have fun in there," I warned him. "You're probably supposed to be in there learning your lesson or something like that."

"Don't worry, I'll transfigure them into something else before he gets back. He's usually gone all night when he's summoned."

The rest of the evening was very quiet. I was relieved not to see any signs of Mrs. Malfoy. I fell on my bed and tried to push Mr. Malfoy's meeting with the Dark Lord out of my mind. Just thinking about it was enough to give me bad dreams. I brushed my hair out and put on a new, silky nightgown. It had been a busy day, to say the least, and when I crawled into bed, I fell asleep as soon as my head sunk into the pillow.

"Missy! Missy! Master Snape is here!" A house elf squeaked, her voice high with a note of panic.

"What?" I opened an eye sleepily. The lamp next to my bed had been lit, the little flame flickering a warm glow around the room. "Go away, Twinky." I pushed myself up on an elbow to glare at her. It must have been two or three in the morning! I drew my breath in with shock.

A tall, lean figure, with long, black robes that billowed around him, glided across the bedroom toward me. He moved like a shadow. His long, glossy hair was so black that it gleamed purple. His face was half- shadowed in the lamp light, but I caught the impression of pale skin and harsh features. A mask dangled from his fingers.

I gave a shriek and sat up so fast that I knocked my head against the headboard. "A vampire," I whispered, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. I was obviously having a nightmare.

The man looked down his large nose at me, watching me disdainfully for a moment with black, glittering eyes. "No, Miss Silverthorn." His voice was low and velvety, but cold. "Listen to me, and don't be a fool. The Dark Lord has requested your appearance."


Many thanks to my reviewers!!!

Thank you, MerryDay and kitkat4495

Escaped: Thank you, my fellow groupie ;-) for your nice review. Please let me know if this chapter is too silly. Whew! This was a very dramatic chapter. I felt like I was writing an episode of Wizard Jerry Springer ( I am seriously doped up on cold medicine right now, and I'm hoping it hasn't impaired my judgment where writing is concerned. I really didn't want to bring a scene with Moldy Voldy in it, but unfortunately, when you're writing from first person POV, your character has to be where the information is. It just isn't the same to hear about important stuff from another character after the fact. Anyway, I hope I can do a Voldy scene and not get overly-dramatic and cheesy. Cross your fingers!

Chocoliciouz: Okay, young lady, I know you don't care if you're corrupted, but I looked at your bio and you're only 12 years old! I'm old enough to be your mama! Promise me you'll cover your eyes if Draco starts getting out of hand or using bad language! ( Yes, I think that Lucius probably can read minds, too, like Professor Snape. Spooky, huh?

Rycca Wolbane: Thanks for your thoughts and your input. I hope everything is going well for you. I saw the movie "Troy" this weekend, and I suspect that Shrek2 was more entertaining and probably had better acting! Orlando Bloom was pretty cute, but still! I'm so excited about the Azkaban movie coming out. I even have my Hogwarts t-shirt ready to go!!! Maybe Alan Rickman will be even sexier in a dress and vulture-hat...