Disclaimer: As if I have to state the obvious… (again). I DO NOT OWN Harry POTTER. Alrighty? And yet I do own some original, significant characters! Miss Cassidy Valeska and Troy Malfoy!

-x-x-x-

Chapter Summary: After truly realizing her parents are dead, Cassidy is thrown into a two-week coma. When she awakens, she hears conversations she barely understands, and becomes "reacquainted" with a strangely nice Narcissa Malfoy, who suddenly decides to treat Cassidy like the daughter she never had….

-

House of Drawn Shades
By Darkwing731

((--Chapter Two--))
Confusions of a Faded Memory

­-

When conversations turn to awkward moments, people hasten to avoid each other's eyes in fear of breaking into laughter, or sharing a private thought. The tension within the room becomes thicker, and the silence spirals horribly as everyone listens to the drum of their own heartbeat.

At the moment, Cassidy was in a situation that held similar feelings. She was sitting in stunned silence, her blank conscience pouring over the vacant memories and files stored away in her head, where all she could remember was the great heaps and piles of information that were irrelevant to anything she wanted to know. Her heart wasn't hammering, but was slowly beating faster as her breath hitched in her throat, fighting down the urge to demand what was going on.

It had to be a joke, didn't it? How could her parents be dead without a mere remembrance of the scene or any of the facts?

How could she not remember something as shocking as this?

Cassidy blinked, trying to clear her mind and push away the fathomless fog that was haunting her. She wanted to remember their deaths; Hell, she wanted to remember anything about her parents. But all that greeted her was the chilling darkness that she called a memory.

Slowly, she sank back down against the goose-feather pillows, staring up at the ceiling. She wondered, with a slight panic, what exactly had happened to her to cause her mind to be wiped clean like a board at the end of a busy day.

Has it been days? she thought to herself. She couldn't start to piece together an image of the last time she had woken up and smiled at the morning rays, let alone the simple memory of another time before this.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the soft hues of her parents' faces. How had they reacted when they saw her dressed up, or when she said something to make them laugh? She would give anything that would glue the puzzle together for a reflection of what her parents looked like.

She opened her eyes again and stared blankly at the ceiling as her mind resolved, after unending minutes of a shaking silence, that she couldn't remember her parents, or anything before today.

She let herself go, feeling the tension leave from her body, for she realized all of her muscles were taut and stiff in a statue-like fashion. She had been alarmed at the fact that she could remember nothing, and then she had just accepted it. Obviously, her brain was protecting her from these faded pictures burned into her mind.

Or are there any pictures left? she silently wondered.

And suddenly, guilt washed over her. How could she not remember her parents and not give a second thought about it? They were the people that had raised her from birth, who saw her first steps, gave her baths, named her, loved her, and performed every act a loving parent had to do.

And she wasn't feeling any kind of remorse that these beloved people were dead!

Cassidy clenched her eyes shut, hoping that the reason and excuse for her mistake would suddenly dawn on her. Wasn't there a reason that she didn't have a single feeling about the deaths of her parents? Wasn't there some excuse that made her feel relieved that she could go on without any slightly cautious thought?

"It's not true."

Her voice was soft and hoarse, a gravelly sound to it as if her throat had been deprived of water for days on end.

"Excuse me?"

Narcissa's arrogant voice was suddenly much more pronounced than it had been before. She had been told that should anything happen to Cassidy's parents, she would be handed over to the Malfoys. So technically, they would be her godparents.

But it didn't make sense. How could this woman, this arrogant woman, somehow expect Cassidy to look at her in the light of a mother? She was expecting her to be a benevolent daughter who would saunter to do her godmother's every whim.

And how could Cassidy suddenly expect that of herself?

"It isn't true," she whispered again, opening her eyes and struggling to sit up.

She barely recognized that there were restraints tying her down to the bed, as if she were chained up against a wall for some horrible act of outrageousness.

Her muscles screamed in protest, a minor sweat beading her forehead as her stomach clenched and weakened almost instantly, causing her to fall backwards back onto the pillow.

And all the time, Narcissa had been watching her with a slight sneer on her lips as if it was a sin to seem weak.

Cassidy struggled against the fog that was started to creep passed the barriers in her mind and ensnare her senses. She squinted for a moment, breathing raggedly through her cut and chapped lips. She looked at Narcissa, the woman's shapely figure blurred by the remains of the long passed tears before she blinked them away harshly.

She stared at Narcissa for a long moment, desperate to keep awake, and desperate to make sure that her parents weren't really dead.

"I told you, it's not true. My parents are alive!"

Somehow, her voice has risen to a terrified, beseeching scream. She wanted the woman in front of her to lie and say that Cassidy was right, and her parents were waiting to jump from the closet and scream "April Fools!" and tell her they loved her.

But all Cassidy got was the cold glare that she had received before.

"No," Narcissa whispered, sounding furious, "they're dead. There isn't anything you can do about it."

Cassidy peered at her for another moment, knowing that unconsciousness was closing in on her once again.

"You're lying," she accused the Malfoy woman softly, who seemed to have the defiance to smirk at the weak girl in the bed.

Narcissa stood up, pulling up her skirt in her hand for a moment, before tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ears.

"Stop hoping, girl," she said quietly. "They're gone, and they aren't coming back."

And without another word, she turned and strode from the room, and Cassidy promptly fell into a troubled coma when she fell back against the crimson stained sheets again.

-x-x-x-

November 15

Fifteen Days Later

"… But I thought it would've been the Granger girl, Lucius."

Through the dim shadows of her trouble mind, a confused feminine voice broke through the darkness, and Cassidy listened with enormous effort to a conversation she could barely comprehend.

"… No, you don't understand, 'Cissa … some last minute changes … couldn't afford to use the Mudblood … understand, don't you?"

Cassidy's fragile ears could catch only snippets of this conversation. She could barely hear through the pounding headache as it was, and listening to the deep, menacing sounding voice of an older man just increased the sharp throb behind her eyes.

"… hardly awake. She's in a coma at the moment, but she's waking gradually." The female voice faded, sounding desperately perplexed and curious. "Please, what's going–"

"You'll understand in time, Narcissa. I've got to go … the Dark Lord wants me to …" The male voice softened into nothing.

"Yes … but please, Lucius …"

"… needs you to do a favor that would be greatly appreciated …" The male voice lowered considerably. "… as if she was your own … can't afford to lose. Not in the trial case …"

"All right … still don't understand …"

"Please. Afterwards, I shall. You'll know then."

The threatening male stopped, sounding as if he was dismissing her, and she knew it too. The conversation was over.

Then, the voice of the woman made a low, throaty sound, as if begging him to stay, but with a soft reply he refused, and Cassidy could almost sense the gentle visual conversation exchanged between the two of them before heavy footsteps evaded her mind. The loud, sharp snap of the door slamming shut let all hell loose upon her brain as a storm of painful electricity erupted in her head.

Weakness was etched all over her body. Her muscles were barely moveable, and it hurt to breathe. Like before, she was constricted against moving, and she felt herself tied to the bed, perhaps with a different, stronger material than before.

The sheets cocooning her felt strangely heavy, and thankfully were very warm. The rest of her body felt as if it were trapped in a cold, clammy sweat. And it was; Cassidy could feel the trickle of perspiration falling over the soft curve of her neck, dripping down her shoulders after a moment's hesitation and gliding across her skin like rain.

She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to ignore the shooting pain bouncing between her temples like a tennis match. A ray of dim light invaded her eyelids, and she clamped her eyes tighter still, not wanting to have the headache increase. She parted her lips, finding the film that had formed over it causing her lips to labor her breathing.

Glorious air filled her lungs as she gasped with a shallow breath. The oxygen flowed down her throat, and she heaved a breath that seemed to bring her body back to life. She could feel the blood pounding through her veins and the air spreading through her body in waves, making her feel alive.

Cassidy was abruptly aware that the silky sheets were clinging to her body, as if they were fastened on and wouldn't let go for the life of themselves. Sweat trickled down the sides of her forehead, and she breathed in slow, ragged breaths, trying to slow her heart rate, for she could feel the fast pulse beating inside her eardrums. Her nose was stuffed, making her wish she had tissues; the pressure below her eyes and in her sinuses was incredible, and she longed to clear her head again.

A soft moaned escaped her as she finally awoke from her traumatized coma. Suddenly, there was scurrying that was quite loud, and then a surprisingly warm hand pressed itself down on her forehead for a moment before carefully touching her wet neck for a pulse. It stayed there briefly, in the hollow of her throat, and Cassidy could feel the slight pressure of the fingertips, the grazing of the nicely manicured nails, and the warmth of the delicate skin.

"You've such a high fever," the person murmured.

Out of the blue, Cassidy suddenly remembered Narcissa; she opened her eyes, squinting up at her as sunlight poured into her pupils, sending horrifying pain through her head once again.

Narcissa jumped at the opportunity and immediately went around the bed, hastily pulling down the shades so the room was only dimly lit. A soft silver band of sunlight stayed peacefully on the floor, a slice of warmth that would later be appreciated.

Cassidy watched with slight confusion as Narcissa went to the head of her bed, and fiddled with something near the top of the carved, arched bedposts that hovered below the ceiling. As the possibility of Narcissa drawing bed curtains entered her mind, a soft whoosh went through the air, and like a breeze of wind or the surf crashing over itself and onto the sand, a thick velvet curtain trimmed with exquisite delicate silvery ribbons came forward. The sunlight caught the soft material momentarily before Cassidy was enveloped in darkness once more.

"Does that help?"

The kind voice of the arrogant woman sounded strangely out of place. Her voice was sincere enough, almost as if she was itching to bow and do her every little need for the girl lying in the bed. But what bothered Cassidy the most was that if Narcissa was pulling a trick, she was doing a hell of a job, and in the near future she was sure she would never be able to tell the difference in her sincere attention or the duplicity she seemed to hold.

"Yes."

Cassidy's voice was hoarse, and barely above a whisper. Narcissa smiled sympathetically and came around the bed. She stood there for a moment, looking slightly uncertain, before smiling in a motherly fashion.

"Are you hungry, dear?" Her clear blue eyes searched Cassidy's face, and then dimmed for some reason.

"Very," Cassidy answered, suddenly aware of the gnawing feeling in her stomach.

She was blinking rapidly, as if hoping it would dim the sunlight or push the thick clouds, full of heavy rain, back over the sun so the world would fade to a depressing gray.

As Narcissa smiled and walked to the door, presumably to call a house elf, Cassidy felt a tingling in her fingers that was slowly spreading through her arms in soft, ribbon-like movement. It did not feel uncomfortable, just curiously pleasant, albeit slightly electrical. She clenched her fingers into a fist, closing her eyes and obeying her heavy lids for a few moments. She felt the wondrous current in her fingers suddenly surge with power, and then dim again as she let her hands unclench.

Narcissa's footsteps reached her ears; the faint clicking of expensive-sounding heels on a hardwood floor, perhaps adorned by carvings of the family crest or coat of arms, came closer. There was a soft whoosh, a scrape of something, probably metal, and then a gentle, suppressed clanking sound; then, the sound of delicate china being set down, accompanied by the seductive waft of some amazing food that was beyond Cassidy's vision or reach.

She opened her eyes, and gently turned her neck towards the tray of food that was propped up by a contraption similar to those that Muggle waiters used in restaurants.

A large china bowl held a thick, creamy soup that was a rich crimson red. Steam was rising in careful patterns above the hot liquid; a green plant was sprinkled importantly in the approximate middle of the dish. Perhaps it was clove, but Cassidy did not know. Maybe food hadn't been her strong point in her life before.

The food before her smelled delicious; her mouth was watering already, and she suddenly felt more ravenous as the strong scents invaded her and tempted her.

Cassidy struggled to sit, and Narcissa jumped forward at the opportunity to help her, and carefully shoved pillows from the opposite side of the bed behind her. Then, with the aid of her wand, which she used almost discreetly (Cassidy wondered why), Narcissa conjured up a sitting tray and laid it slowly over Cassidy's quilt-covered body. The girl felt the covers tighten around her thighs as the weight of the tray grew. Narcissa cautiously lifted the soup and placed it on the tray, looking as though she was doing some highly dangerous job, and if, for some reason, her fingertips touched any farther down on the brim of the china bowl they were likely to fall off.

Cassidy's eyes fell on the meal, and then, without realizing that she did so, pulled a spoon from the other tray and greedily began eating the broth, knowing she was using absolutely no manners at all. But at the moment she could care less; she felt as though she hadn't eaten in days, possibly weeks, and she needed to scarf this food down as if any other decent meal would never be presented to her again.

Cassidy was not aware of Narcissa's look of utter horror and disgust as she watched her suck down the boiling broth, but only of her walking quickly away and out of the room, as if Cassidy had some type of disease.

To Cassidy, the broth lasted merely a few moments. Before she knew what happened, she was spooning the empty bowl of the remaining dregs of the delicious soup (which turned out to be tomato).

The tray that had firstly been set on the floor was empty and looking eager for something to hold. Cassidy picked up her empty china bowl and set it down on the bedside tray, before placing the tray on her lap over the bowl.

Feeling as though she had a newfound strength, almost as if she was invincible, she pushed aside the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a minute. Was she really ready to just get up and walk to wherever her feet would lead her? Was enough strength reserved so that she wouldn't just tumble down when her knees buckled because her legs couldn't support her? What happened if she got lost, and then something horrible happened and trouble fell upon her?

Feeling uncertain, yet determined she gradually placed her toes on the ground, feeling the smooth, cold hardwood floor beneath her skin. She gripped the satin sheets, and then, with grace and confidence, she pushed away from the bed and took a few strides across the room.

She was standing in the middle of the room, her knees trembling beneath her, when all the blood suddenly rushed to her head. She fainted, falling to the floor with a loud thump.

There was welcoming blackness for what seemed like eternity, softly embracing her, not letting her go as she glided gently through infinite space. Sleep washed over her, and she felt drowsy; but then an unexpected pain sliced through her and her head was pounding with a horrible headache.

What was with the migraines today?

When consciousness decided to grace her, she found herself being hauled to the bed again, and then thrown unceremoniously on top of the twisted, tangled sheets. She recognized Narcissa's voice muttering darkly before heaving a sigh. Cassidy's body was motionless, and she realized that she was still on top of the bed. Slowly opening her eyes, she sat up using her elbows as a slightly weak, though effective prop.

Narcissa had been holding what looked like a wet facecloth, and she was positively startled at Cassidy's abrupt awakening. She was standing quite still, looking somehow guilty, like a deer caught in the headlights.

And she recovered just as quickly, as she had been found guilty.

"Dear, you're finally awake!" she said, with almost too much enthusiasm. Cassidy gave a weak smile that she knew turned into a grimace.

Narcissa smiled warmly and sat on the bed and without any warning, took Cassidy by the chin, and held her still as she ran the cloth over her face. The girl winced and closed her eyes as Narcissa scrubbed. After a moment she let go, and Cassidy opened her eyes, blinking; Narcissa was staring at her sharply.

"What?" Cassidy blurted, feeling stupid all of a sudden.

"I'm just thinking that perhaps a nice long bath would do you wonders. You look simply dreadful, and warm water works miracles. Come on then, get up," Narcissa ordered, suddenly brisk.

Cassidy pushed herself up, and nearly fell off the bed. Narcissa grabbed her by the upper arm, and holding her tightly, guided her across the room. She pushed open a door that held carvings of beautiful maidens on it, graceful animals scattered through the picture, hidden among stunning mountain and lake scenery. She turned the snake-like handle, and the bathroom was revealed.

And Cassidy simply gasped.

Before her was a bathroom that was nearly impossible to describe. The enormous tub, standing on proud, gold-clawed gleaming feet, sunk low and touched the floor. There was what looked like a marble staircase leading all the way up to the side of it, and then a sort of ledge around it, big enough to seat five people.

The sink was deep and a nicely shaped oval basin. An arching snake served as the faucet, its mouth open and hissing, allowing water to pass through. The knobs were carved elegantly, looking as if they were made of crystal.

There was a large mirror situated, like any other home, exactly above the sink. It stretched all the way across the room, and then to the ceiling. It had old fashion lights lining its perimeter, which was adorned with carvings like the rest of the bathroom surfaces.

But what surprised Cassidy was the girl staring back at her when she looked into the mirror.

The girl in the mirror was clutching the side of the sink with dirty, frayed hands, lined with scrapes and cuts. The body of the girl was fragile-looking and thin, and it was easily seen through the thin cotton nightgown. Her face was stunning, although sunken and laced with both bruises and cuts; the stormy blue-gray eyes had deep purple lines beneath them, only intensified by the thick black eyelashes. The eyebrows, arched in surprised, were thin and timid looking. The hair was dark, thick and black – darker than midnight, darker than the infinite space that had never seen the light of any of the seven suns – though it lay lank and dirty on her shoulders, falling into split ends and ugly-looking sections.

Before Cassidy knew what was going on, Narcissa was pulling the thin nightgown off of Cassidy's body and shoving her towards the tub. Cassidy, who had been silent in shock at the fact of standing naked, had no time to protest. Yet once she hit the water, everything just melted away into nothing as sweet bliss took hold of her; the warm water was entrancing and she loved it as it spread over her body and made her feel stronger, like no weakness had ever resided inside of her before.

And before she could grip her senses from slipping away from her again, they did.

-x-x-x-

"Excuse me, Narciss—I mean, Mrs. Malfoy, who was that person who was here earlier?"

Cassidy had finished her bath and was now dressed in a bathrobe and a towel twisted up in her hair, while she shifted through the garments of clothing that Narcissa had presented to her.

"What?" Narcissa said, sounding as though she had heard Cassidy perfectly well but didn't believe what had been spoken.

"Er … There was someone here earlier, wasn't there?" Cassidy asked cautiously. Somehow, she could sense that to tread carefully on this subject would be extremely wise.

Narcissa looked up from the blue dress she was holding in her hands, and looked for a long, hard moment at the raven-haired girl. Cassidy shifted and fidgeted, as though she had been caught stealing candy but unwilling to confess. Narcissa's eyes hardened for a brief moment before they melted into warmness again.

"No one was here, dear. You must've been dreaming," she answered pleasantly, looking down at the dress for a moment before tossing it aside and picking up a dark blue one and examining it.

"But—it's just I was so sure … I even remember some of it …" Cassidy's slow mumbling came to a halt, and she decided that she should've shut her mouth and never brought this subject up in the first place.

"Oh?" asked Narcissa curiously. There was a slight hint of fear in her voice, though malice was overriding it.

"O-On second thought, I must've been dreaming," Cassidy said hastily, not looking up.

"That's what I thought," Narcissa said, sounding dark and triumphant.

She held up a beautiful blue dress that had silver clasps and a boat-neck collar. Cassidy stared at the piece of clothing in bemusement. She took it hesitantly from Narcissa, held it up to her robed body for a moment, and handed it back.

"It's too nice," she said in a hushed voice. "I could never wear that."

Narcissa impatiently shoved it back into her hands. "We don't have anything plainer. It's either that, or be naked. Your choice," Narcissa said. "Dear," she added quickly.

"All right," Cassidy agreed in a quiet voice.

The blonde Malfoy woman handed her some undergarments (merely a camisole and a pair of knickers) before walking out of the room. Cassidy stared at the bunch of clothes in her hands before sighing and then changing, sitting on the bed instead of using her little strength standing.

When she was dressed, she limped over to the mirror. When she had gotten out of the bath her leg was sore, and she'd spent nearly ten minutes rubbing the sore muscle. She had never gotten the knot out of her leg, and it still hurt a lot.

The mirror was long and thin, with engravings of phrases in dead languages, snakes and dragons carved on each of them. Cassidy stood uncertainly in front of it for a moment before looking at her reflection.

The dress was a beautiful navy blue, smooth and luxurious, and it complimented her eyes greatly. The bodice was tight fitting, the neckline opening around her neck and showing some of her gleaming bare shoulders. There was silver stitching, and patterns flowed from her breasts all the way down to her navel, curling possessively around her hips. The skirt was loose and flowing, though it started at the top of her thighs, rather than at her hips.

Although it was beautiful, Cassidy knew that she didn't belong in the amazing clothing. She knew something just wasn't … right. Something was off completely, something hugely important that she couldn't quite place. She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but she knew it. She could feel it.

She lifted her hands to her hair, and pulled the towel off. The black tresses were thick and framed her face, with water dripping down her rosy cheeks, as if taking the place of tears. Her hair was wavy, and curled at the bottom, falling to the end of her shoulder blades. Her scalp was cold and wet, though she was hardly bothered.

She had a bruise or two on her face, mingled with scratches. Her lips were cut and chapped, making them look abused and neglected. Her face was long and thin and heart shaped, though in her opinion it still seemed like some uncompleted oval.

Cassidy sighed and turned back and sat on the bed, the day's thoughts drifting through her head. What was that conversation about when she woke from her coma? What was with the new Narcissa?

And lastly, how could Cassidy be so surprised at her own reflection?

Maybe, she thought darkly, I'm surprised to see a face I can't recognize — like it was never mine in the first place.

Left to her confusing thoughts, she frowned, and got up and left in search of Narcissa, hoping for some explanation that she knew would never come.

-
-x-x-x-
-

A/N: So okay, I know that was an extremely boring chapter, but PLEASE forgive me! It had its important thingies in there, and I thought, although lack of action and events, it had its style! Please don't be mad at me!

I want to thank Kels for betaing this for me! Thanks!

Please PLEASE review!