Author's Note: This chapter was definitely written by my Inner Child. I hope all the cuteness doesn't give you a sugar rush. Don't worry, the unicorn really does have a purpose in the story. It's not all fluff! Hee!

I'm afraid that real life has been distracting me this week, so sorry for the late update. I'm trying to finish my Master's Thesis and Website. (My professors seem to have this ridiculous idea that this is much more important than fan fiction!) And I've had a bit of writer's block as well.

All information about the critters comes from the book, "Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them" by Newt Scamander (JK Rowling)


Chapter Seventeen

I woke the next morning with a vague sense of loss and dread. An empty feeling lied in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't until I moved around, got dressed and drank some tea, that I realized what it was. Today was my birthday. I was officially nineteen.

My last birthday was soon before my mother's death. She had taken me out to dinner on one of the steamboats that floated down the Mississippi river. It had been such a happy day, with the boisterous jazz music, and the Cajun shrimp fettuccine the restaurant served. I glanced at the photograph on my shelf once more and tried to swallow the lump that formed in my throat.

"Hey, what's your name, again?" A little version of Draco padded into the room in his bare feet. He was dressed in a shrunken pair of green silk pajamas that had little, silver dragons embroidered on them. "Where are the house elves? Where is breakfast? When is my daddy coming to pick me up?" He shot me an imperious glare, which might have been intimidating had it not come from such an adorable, cherubic face. He was quite small for being five years old, but he had a big attitude.

"Well, good morning to you, too, your Majesty," I said sarcastically. I couldn't help but smile, however, which probably ruined the effect. "I'll let the house elves know to bring breakfast." Somehow, I didn't think he was ready for the Great Hall. He didn't need all those twits gawking at him. I hadn't liked it at all, and I was a grown-up. He had caused such a disturbance last night in the infirmary, playing with the medical instruments and banging bedpans, that Madam Pomfrey soon begged that he be allowed to stay in my quarters until his father came for him.

"I want pancakes with chocolate syrup on them," He announced. "And tea."

"That does not sound very nutritious," I said, shaking my head. "That would probably just give you a sugar rush and you'd be hyper all day."

"My mummy lets me have that for breakfast any time I want," Draco told me with a frown. He sat down at the kitchen table and surveyed all the crayon drawings he had made last night. The paper and enchanted crayons had been a gift from Madam Pomfrey. It probably had been a bribe for good behavior.

"Those pictures are really detailed. I can tell you're very artistic." I peered over his shoulder. I had never seen drawings that moved and talked before, and the effect was hilarious, especially since the drawn characters seemed to be waking up and trying to outdo each other for our attention. "Maybe you'll be an artist when you grow up."

"Croak." A cartoon toad puffed up like a ball.

"Master Draco, you is getting Dipsy in trouble, you bad boy!" A figure that could only be a house elf wagged her finger.

"Bloody hell!" A long-haired figure dressed in black robes was making some kind of kicking motion. I didn't have to guess too hard who that must be. The small figure that was being kicked across the paper was shrieking.

Draco's entire attitude changed with my compliment, and now he radiated with pleasure. He picked up one of the drawings. "This one is Ambrosius, my new toad that Daddy bought me for my birthday. He's very magical and expensive. Daddy said that I had to have the very best toad that money could buy. This is Dipsy, my nanny. But she's kind of boring. And this picture is of Daddy kicking Dobby." He handed me the paper, and I stared at it in fascination. The cartoon version of Mr. Malfoy cursed up a storm.

"What the bloody hell are you looking at?" The cartoon snarled at me. "It's none of your business how I treat my servants!"

"You should not be using that kind of language around little kids," I told it sternly. The crayon figure actually whipped its wand out and pointed it at me. "How rude!" I said and slapped it faced down on the table.

"It's my birthday, too," I told Draco. I had been fighting the urge to hug and kiss him since he arrived last night. He really was an adorable little boy. His complexion was actually luminous, and his grey eyes gleamed with intelligence and curiosity. For a moment I remembered what the older Draco had predicted at the Manor- that I would someday have cute, little babies that looked just like him. Strangely enough, that thought was now not an unpleasant one.

"What kind of presents are you getting?" The little boy asked seriously, as if that was the matter of utmost importance.

"I don't think anybody here knows it's my birthday," I told him. "I'm new here." I thought again briefly of my mother, and felt a new surge of loneliness.

It was some time after our breakfast (a healthy one with no sign of chocolate syrup) that someone rapped on the door. Mr. Malfoy strode into the room. He looked irate, and I guessed that he had just spoken with Severus about the potions accident.

"Daddy!" Draco flung himself at his father's legs.

Lucius' eyes softened as he saw Draco. He picked his son up in his arms. "I had forgotten. Draco was quite charming at this age," He told me over Draco's shoulder. "This brings back so many memories, of our lives before..." He trailed off, but I knew he was going to mention Voldemort's return.

"I don't know what happened, Daddy." The boy's lip trembled. "I was at home playing with Ambrosius, and then I was here."

Mr. Malfoy patted his son on the back. "Now, now, Draco, Malfoys do not cry. It was just a magical accident. You do know what an accident is, don't you? Severus is trying very hard to find out exactly what happened. Ambrosius is in the garden at home waiting for you. He, er, has grown quite a bit since you last saw him, however."

"He's still living?" I asked, surprised. Wizarding toads must live a lot longer than Muggle ones.

He nodded. "He's so huge he's probably eating house elves by now."

"Daddy, it's this lady's birthday, too. She's all alone and she needs a present. Maybe she'd like to have a toad." Draco tugged on a silver snake button on his father's robes, and smiled charmingly.

"Really? Yes, I do believe that she mentioned her birthday to me when we first met. I don't think that a toad would be an appropriate gift for such a lovely, young lady. She should have a familiar that suits her." He looked thoughtful. "I believe a trip to Knockturn Alley is in order."

"Yaaaay!" Draco cheered. "Can we look at the giant spiders?"

"Um, you don't really have to buy me anything, Mr. Malfoy," I said, a little embarrassed. "You've already done so much for me, with the bank account and all."

"I think that it's about time that you called me Lucius. Better yet, why don't you call me Uncle Lucius?"

"Daddy! What are you going to buy her?" Draco bounced in his father's arms with excitement. "Can I have another present, too?"

Mr. Malfoy just smiled at me mysteriously.


The shop appeared to be a much darker version of the Magical Menagerie. A large cage crawling with monstrous eight-eyed spiders hung in the front window. A sign beneath it said, Indonesian Acromantulas- 50 galleons each.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" I asked Mr. Malfoy. "I was thinking more along the lines of something cute and fluffy, like a purple kitten. I saw some of those in Diagon Alley."

"Oh, my dear." Mr. Malfoy smiled, and I caught the glitter of amusement in his eyes. "Cats, toads and owls are such commonplace familiars. Every student at Hogwarts has one of those. Surely you would like one that's a little...unique."

"Not that unique," I muttered under my breath, glancing again at the shop window. I shifted uneasily and rubbed my arms. I wondered if any of those spiders ever broke out of that cage.

Draco clung to his father's hand, his eyes wide with a mixture of horror, glee and fascination as he stared at the spiders. Unfortunately, we must have arrived just at feeding time, because a number of rats were dropped into the cage. The spiders scurried toward them. I covered my eyes.

"Wicked," Draco breathed.

After awhile his father tugged on his hand. "Come. And I will only tell you once, Draco. Touch nothing."

The shop was dim, even darker than Ollivander's had been. I could make out masses of multi-colored snakes entangled in glass cases, animal skeletons that lined the wall shelves, and jars of red, glowing spheres that were labeled "Ashwinder eggs." I was surrounded by cages of strange birds, fairies and other creatures I couldn't identify. I tried not to gag as the smell of old urine stung my nostrils.

The shop was empty of people, save for an ancient, scarred witch that glared at us from behind the counter. "What the hell do you want?" She croaked out. She hobbled around the corner to get a better look at us.

Mr. Malfoy let go of Draco's hand and stepped forward. He gripped the handle of his walking stick, and his eyes narrowed. "How dare you speak to me in that disrespectful manner, you revolting beast."

When hearing his voice, the hag fell to her knees, groveling in front of him. "Master Malfoy, I had no idea it was you," She whimpered. "My eyesight has been going bad. Very bad. It's been so long since I've last seen you in my shop. Please, only tell me how I may serve you." She reached out to touch his boot, and I saw with horror that there was a huge paw with claws where her hand should be.

Mr. Malfoy stepped back away from her, and turned his nose up into the air with disgust. "I am looking for a gift for Miss Silverthorn." He emphasized my last name. "A familiar that she would have a particular affinity for. Do I need to explain myself further?"

"No, no my Lord. We got one in quite recently. It was meant for another customer, but I would rather that you had it." She smiled, revealing her rotting, yellowed fangs.

"Did gold cross the palm?" He asked.

"No, my lord, I didn't pay any money for it. My son and his friends caught it, in a very deep part of the Forbidden Forest. The creature is completely pure from the taint of greed. It has not been harmed in any way. It is free from any curse."

Mr. Malfoy nodded curtly.

A particular nasty looking man soon carried out a small, wooden crate and set it down onto the counter. There was a lamp nearby, and he turned it up brighter. He tore off the lid to the crate, and motioned me to look inside.

I peered over the top with hesitation, wondering what I might see. I really hoped it wasn't some kind of giant bug. I was trying to find some polite way of refusing the gift if it was something horrible, when I drew in a quick breath.

At the bottom of the box lied a tiny, golden foal. At first I thought it was a statue, but then it pushed itself up onto its legs! Its hide rippled with light like molten gold, and its golden hooves stamped on the floor of the crate. It had obviously been shrunken down to a size that was easily handled. "I'm hungry," The little thing said. "I want to go home. I don't like it in here."

I pressed my hand to my chest. "Oh, it's a talking horse!"

The hag cackled and mumbled incoherently, but I ignored her.

I reached out my hand, and the foal pressed her nose into my palm. It was soft and warm, not metallic at all. My mind filled with a rush of strange memories, images of a deep forest, a waterfall, fairies glittering in the night, of running through the tall grass, of the silver legs and golden hooves of horses. Then came a sense of confusion, screams of horses, webs of dark magic... and then evil smiles, rough hands and the stifling darkness of a box. I felt the little creature's terror and loss. It was a little overwhelming, and for a moment I even felt dizzy.

"It's okay," I told her, stroking her head with my fingers. "I won't hurt you, I promise. I'd never let anybody hurt you." I had always loved horses, but living in the city had made it impossible to own one. My mind flashed back to all the horse novels I had devoured when I was younger, especially "The Black Stallion." I had envied the mystical connection between the boy and the stallion in the book, especially when they were shipwrecked together on a desert island. I continued to murmur to the foal, trying to comfort her.

"Daddy," I heard Draco say. "Why is Miriel making those funny sounds?"

"Hush, son," Mr. Malfoy told him in a low voice. "She is a Mirror-Mage. She is speaking in the language of unicorns."

"Unicorns?" I said, astonished. "But I'm speaking English. How can I be speaking another language but not know I'm doing it? Anyway, this doesn't look anything like a unicorn."

"She's only a foal," Mr. Malfoy replied. "In a short time, her hide will begin to turn silver, and in a couple more years she will begin to grow a horn. By the time she is seven years old, she will be completely white. It would be wise for us to obtain a license from the Ministry of Magic, just to prevent suspicion. It is illegal, of course, to own unicorns for use in the Dark Arts."

"You mean I can really have her?" I was so excited that it took all my self control not to do a happy dance right there in the shop. This was much more wonderful than anything I had expected. I felt like my birthday, Christmas and Easter had all come at the same time.

With a cool arch of his eyebrow, Mr. Malfoy looked at the hag in charge of the shop.

"Of course!" The hag croaked too loudly. "Please accept it as a gift, Master Malfoy. I am honored with your mere presence. Such a great servant of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would of course be welcomed at any time in my shop."

"Where will I keep her?" I asked. I would never cease to be amazed at how shopkeepers reacted to the Malfoy name.

"I'm sure that half-giant savage, Hagrid, will have some place you can use," Mr. Malfoy said. "He is the present instructor of the Care of Magical Creatures class at Hogwarts. Though I'm not sure he's interested in a creature unless it can kill, burn or maim innocent bystanders." Standing next to the crate, Mr. Malfoy reached his hand out to the foal, but she backed away hastily.

"Bad man," The foal said.

"I, um, don't think she likes you," I told Mr. Malfoy, a little embarrassed.

He smiled a little sadly. "Yes, well, it's been a very long time since I could have touched a unicorn." Catching my look, he continued. "They are naturally attracted to innocence. And I do not mean sexual purity, but the innocence of someone who has never committed a violent deed."

I didn't know what to say to that. After a long moment, I got up enough nerve to hug him. Not a big hug. Just a little one. "Thank you so much," I whispered against his robes. "Uncle Lucius."


Soon we were sitting at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor. Mr. Malfoy ordered us lunch, and an ice-cream cake with the words "Happy Birthday Miriel" written across the top in icing. I gave the unicorn a saucer of water, and set the crate under the table. I wondered what unicorns ate. I would have to ask Hagrid a lot of questions. Maybe there would even be a "Complete Dummy's Guide to Unicorns."

I ended up telling my uncle all about my first couple of days at Hogwarts. I left out what the Sorting Hat had said about him, however.

"Have you given any thought to our last conversation?" Mr. Malfoy finally asked me.

"Yes. It's been all I can think about," I admitted. "I keep thinking about my mom, about what it would be like to see her again."

He took his wand and cast a muffling spell around our table, so that no one could overhear us. "Have you given any thought to where the Mirror of Emit might be?"

"I don't know," I told him. "How could I figure out where it is? I don't think Professor Dumbledore would just tell me."

"Hogwarts is indeed a mysterious castle," He said. "I doubt that even Dumbledore knows all of its secrets. I'm sure you've noticed by now that some parts of the castle actually seem to move about, disappearing and reappearing in new places. It may be that some rooms only exist when Dumbledore calls them into existence."

"That sounds complicated," I said. For some reason, I felt a little guilty, as though I was conspiring against the headmaster. He had been so nice to me.

Mr. Malfoy noticed the look on my face, and sighed. "I keep forgetting that you're not in Slytherin."

"I don't know if I could lie to him," I said.

"You will not be lying. I presume that you are sincerely curious about your inheritance?"

I nodded.

"Dumbledore has no right to prevent you from seeing it. The headmaster considers all the mirrors to be quite dangerous, however, even that ridiculous Mirror of Erised. He may need some convincing. If you could discover how and where he is storing the Silverthorn mirrors, you may have some clue as to the Mirror of Emit."

"Is the mirror dangerous?" I asked.

"Please take my advice and don't touch the damned thing," He said. "I don't know what your grandfather did to entrap himself in it, but I wouldn't want the same thing to happen to you." Mr. Malfoy handed me a small velvet bag.

I pulled out a square-shaped mirror.

"This is a mirror used for communicating," He said. "I have the other one. When you discover more information about the Mirror of Emit, or if you need to talk to me for whatever reason, speak my name to the mirror, and I will answer." Mr. Malfoy suddenly looked around the table. "Where is my son?"

We had been so absorbed in our conversation that we hadn't noticed that Draco was no longer sitting in his chair. I heard delighted giggling under the table.

"The Unicorn is licking my fingers," Draco cried. "It tickles."

I ducked my head under the table, and saw that he had been dipping his fingers into his plate of melted ice cream and feeding it to the foal.

"Draco! Stop it. You'll make her sick. I don't think unicorns are supposed to eat that." I pulled the little boy up and set him on my lap. His face and hands were covered in sticky ice cream. He even had it in his hair.

"I think that our little party is over," Mr. Malfoy told him sternly. "It's time to return home. At once. To a bath."


Many thanks to all my reviewers!

A million thanks to Eclipse of Starz, shadowstar21, and ice-princess42

Arsinoe de Blassenville: Yes, I've always thought that the sorting might not be that great of an idea. In a lot of ways, I see the Wizarding world as being behind the Muggle one in things like psychology and the arts. I think they'd be more conservative and old-fashioned in a lot of ways as well. BTW- can you think of a literary unicorn name? Thank you so much for reading my story. It's nice that a well read person like yourself is enjoying it. I tend to be too hard on myself, and I'm a bit of a perfectionist. Don't worry, Harry is coming up again soon!

Escaped: This chapter was the one that was originally a lot like your scene where Rose gets the unicorn's heart from the hag in Knockturn Alley. I kind of changed it around, though, so I hope it's not too much like your story.

I know the whole threesome with Snape thing might have been a little goofy, but I have read so many fanfics where the original female character moves into the dungeons, and then the sexual tension builds. It's like you KNOW what's going to happen. HA! When I finish the story, I'm sure there are things that I'll want to cut out or add. I'm having the problem now that there are so many characters at Hogwarts, and there are so many cool things that could happen. It's getting harder to stick with the main storyline.

Whew! This was a rough week for me. Writer's block, another Jerry Springer episode with my family, I'm supposed to be finishing my Master's Thesis, looking for a job,... YIKES! I really liked Thewlis'acting in the POA movie, too. He did a good job. I guess I had always imagined Lupin to be a little better looking, though. Dumbledore did okay, but what was with the crazy, irrelevant little speeches he kept making? Was the man on drugs? :-)

Rycca Wolfbane: Have fun in Louisiana for me! Hey, remember to send me the SNL clip you mentioned! Let me guess who could possibly be in it? Could it be...Alan Rickman, perhaps? :-)