Updated Tuesday 9th May 2006
Chapter Seventeen: Halloween Tricks and Birthday Treats
The first Quidditch match of the Gryffindor's season fell the following day, on the eve of Estella's birthday. Though it was highly unusual for a Quidditch match to be scheduled on a school day, an exception had been made when the 'make-up' Hogsmeade visit had coincided with the match's original date. On some level, Estella suspected that the Headmaster was going to lengths to simultaneously lift students' spirits and annoy one High Inquisitor. Ignorant to the fear and despair that the outside world was inflicting upon the students, the deluded woman just could not see the merit in taking classes away from their 'vitally important' lessons.
In a show of support, many Ravenclaws had chosen to dine with the Gryffindors for the meal before the match, Estella and her friends amongst them. A dual purpose to the inter-house mingling was to host an impromptu, and entirely daring and brazen, D.A. meeting right under Umbridge's very nose. Estella couldn't recall who, amongst those present in the Hog's Head at the weekend had come up with the idea of calling the group 'Dumbledore's Army'; but whether the D.A. stood for that, or, if anyone asked, 'Defence Association', the abbreviated 'D.A.' had stuck.
Surrounded now by a majority of Gryffindor members, together with a select conglomerate of representatives from the other Houses, Hermione was covertly explaining the function of her fake Galleons. If a teacher were to come across them, it would look as though the girl were simply taking a few harmless bets for the upcoming game.
"The Protean Charm?" said John reverently, "isn't that NEWT standard?"
"Well… yes… I suppose it is;" said Hermione, trying to sound modest. "The Hat did consider Sorting me into Ravenclaw, you know, though evidently it settled on Gryffindor in the end."
"You know what it reminds me of, though?" said Harry with a haunted look. "The Death Eater's scars. They work in very much the same way-"
"That's because they both use a variant of the same charm," said Estella quietly, having done some 'light reading' on the subject when she was younger; curious to know more about the mark that graced her uncle's forearm since before she was born.
"Yes, but you'll note that I've chosen to burn information about our meetings on to chunks of metal, not our member's skin;" said Hermione defensively. "I thought using Galleons was a good idea since it'd hardly look suspicious if we ever had to turn out our pockets."
"No one's saying it's not a brilliant idea," said Reg encouragingly, Estella and her friends nodding in rapid agreement. "In fact, the only flaw I can see – not that I would go so far as you actually call it a flaw, per se, is the risk that we might accidentally spend it."
"Speak for yourself," said Ron sourly, pushing his food around on his plate with his fork dejectedly. "Some of us don't have any real Galleons to confuse them with."
Noting the redhead's nervous look, attention quickly turned to the game ahead; many people working towards lifting the new Keeper's mood as he found himself almost ill with pre-match nerves.
"Hello," said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them. Looking around in question, they could see Luna Lovegood wearing a rather ostentatious, life-size lion's head on her head. "I just wanted to come over and wish you all luck for this afternoon's game. I'll be supporting Gryffindor today;" she gestured unnecessarily towards her hat, before tapping it with her wand and causing it to come to life with a deafening roar. Then, tucking her wand away behind her ear as though she hadn't just drawn the attention of every pair of ears within the Great Hall – and probably a great deal beyond – she smiled lazily. "I was going to have it chewing on a serpent to represent Slytherin, but there wasn't enough time. Well, bye then."
Staring after the aloof Ravenclaw with a mix of awe and incredulity, Estella quickly returned her attention to her lunch, fighting the urge to just slap some sense into the youngest Weasley boy. Nerves were one thing, but to emphatically lament that his appointment to the team was a mistake and that he shouldn't play at all got Estella's hackles up. Not only was it an insult to Harry's intelligence (for having chosen Ron for the position), but seeing the melodramatic Gryffindor doubt his abilities so much led her to question Harry's choice in friends. She'd heard about Ron's jealousy the year before, and witnessing the boy fall to pieces over his part in a Quidditch match, Estella dreaded to imagine how the quivering boy would react to Harry's destiny as Voldemort's destroyer and, by extension, his own role in the war. It was resoundingly apparent that Ronald Weasley had a fair bit of growing up to do, and in the meantime Estella could only hope that the inevitable battle between good and evil would wait.
Effectively tuning Ron out, Estella focussed on her friends, lest she lose her cool and say something she'd regret later. Elsie, unsurprisingly, was seated at the Hufflepuff table; the only time she saw the illusive Ravenclaw these days was in their dorm room. Opposite her, Reg was his usual affable self, playing off the attention a gaggle of fourth year girls were paying him; yet, in the fashion of a true bachelor, unwilling to commit. Far from being a lovable rogue, Reginald Davies seemed to walk a fine line between suave, bookish intellect and self-confident jock; appealing to girls on both ends of the spectrum without being either nauseatingly opinionated or immodest. If there were room for a pictorial depiction of the word 'charismatic' in the dictionary, Reg would likely star. For those who knew him best, however – either those of his house or those older students who had seen it all before in his older brother – Reg was just Reg, and it was this nonchalance that Estella figured kept her friend grounded. That and the inherent character trait of most all Ravenclaws that averted them from seeking glory.
As for John, who, as Estella had come to notice favoured an almost possessive place at Estella's side – especially when in the vicinity of a certain Gryffindor – he was somewhat skittish and stand-offish. Estella could only assume that he felt uncomfortable with the ease by which she and Harry interacted after their one summer together. Then again, the Gryffindors had been discussing his brother's prowess a little earlier and being reminded of his brother's success never failed to plague the younger Ryan's mood. She and John had been getting along as well as they ever had in recent days; the incident in Hogsmeade two weeks earlier seemingly left in the past where it belonged. The only problem was, now John had officially asked her out, she no longer knew where she stood. Of course, their proposed outing hadn't quite eventuated, but now John had apparently forgiven her for standing him up she wasn't sure if he now saw them as a couple, or if they had gone back to being the good friends they'd always been. All she did know was that he had been incensed by his parent's decision to revoke his Hogsmeade privileges and, subsequently, equally put out when Estella had insisted on going to the village with Harry in his stead.
"Are you coming, Estella?" John asked her expectantly, turning to look back at her as all the students filtered out of the Entrance Hall, headed for the Quidditch pitch where the match was about to begin.
Fiddling with the faded, scarlet and gold scarf – her father's – that she had donned for the occasion, Estella halted in her step and, after nodding for Hermione to go on without her, cleared her throat nervously.
"Uh, I'm actually going to sit in the Gryffindor stands," she said, gesturing to her father's old House scarf in vague explanation. "I value my ears too much to subject them to Luna's roaring hat – you'd be welcome to join us, I'm sure…"
"No, it's all right," said John stiffly. "I wouldn't want to leave Reg to fend for himself. Besides, McGonagall might notice if three Ravenclaws sneak into her stands" – he gestured to his plainly visible House colours – "we'd stand out…"
"Oh, well, okay then," said Estella uncertainly, not quite knowing what to do about the lost look on her friend's face. "I guess I'll see you after… it's not like we'd really be able to have a conversation during the game or anything anyway, right?"
John didn't answer; he merely shrugged slightly before turning and disappearing amongst a sea of students waiting to climb up into the Ravenclaw stands.
The first twenty minutes of the game was absolutely disastrous for Gryffindor. Overwhelmed by his nerves, Ron was flying almost blindly, letting four goals through before Gryffindor had even managed to score once. When the blanket of white clouds cleared to welcome blue skies and blazing sunlight directly into the Slytherin Keeper's eyes, however, the lion's luck began to turn. Heartened by the rapid succession of goals by the red and gold Chasers and jubilant when none other than Slytherin's key goal scorer and haughty blonde Seeker were, in turn, felled by deftly aimed Bludgers; Ron finally began to play in enviable form. The jeering refrains of the Slytherin's insulting song, Weasley is our King no longer seemed to affect him, and by the time the hour was through, Gryffindor was winning by 60 points.
"Now this is why Harry chose Ron for Keeper!" said Estella to Hermione, who nodded in agreement. "I do hope someone we know is recording this on their Omniculars so that we can show this performance to Ron next time he belittles his ability."
"Too right." Hermione had to shout to be heard over the deafening roar that had erupted around them as Harry began to dive, the substitute Slytherin Seeker proving no match to the Boy-Who-Lived.
Rising to her feet in excitement, Estella's joy soon turned to derision when she saw a victorious Harry knocked off his broom by a Bludger sent careening towards him from behind. Without wasting her breath on voicing her discontent at the illegal move, Estella concentrated on speeding down the stairs and getting to Harry.
"Are you all right?" Estella barrelled towards the growing crowd of Gryffindor players surrounding the figure sprawled on the grass.
"Course I am," said Harry grimly, accepting Ginny's hand in one hand, and Estella's in the other, allowing both girls to pull him to his feet. Overhead, Madam Hooch was zooming towards one of the Slytherin players, though they could not see who it was from their vantage point.
"It was that thug, Crabbe," said Ginny angrily, "he whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch – but we won, Harry, we won!"
'Stating the obvious, much?' Estella had wanted to say, as she rolled her eyes at Harry from her place slightly behind the eager Gryffindor Chaser. Seeing how the fiery redhead had pointedly stood in between she and Harry, Estella was amused by the fourth-year's subconscious possessiveness towards the bespectacled teen. Though Ginny had made a point of making her 'relationship' with Dean Thomas public, the way she hovered around Harry whenever Estella was near reminded the perceptive Ravenclaw of how John often behaved around perceived 'competition'.
Distracted suddenly by a sharp tug pulling her scarf from around her neck from behind, Estella spun around, her wand tickling her wrist from its inner-sleeve holster, to be faced with a familiar blonde Slytherin.
"What do you think you are doing?" Draco Malfoy brandished her father's scarf in the hand that had not been put into a sling. Having received his treatment on the sidelines, the injured Seeker had been watching the remainder of the match from his team's box and had only just made his way onto the field to commiserate with his teammates. Coming out to find Estella wrapped in the livery of the opposing team, expressing concern towards his nemesis when she'd not even thought to head over to the Slytherin stands to ask after him; Estella realised did not look good. Seeing the look on Draco's face, she unconsciously took a step back.
"Well?" Draco hissed impatiently, taking a step towards her to close the distance between them so that he could lean over her.
"Harry, leave it," said Estella sightlessly, hearing from the rustle of movement behind her that Harry had been about to intervene. Snatching her father's scarf out of Draco's grip, Estella sidestepped the indignant Slytherin and motioned for him to follow. Once they were a little way from prying ears, she gathered all her gumption and glared at the boy sternly. "Now, do you care to re-evaluate your approach?"
"No!" said Draco stubbornly. "You don't think I have a right to be mad when here you are flaunting an association with that Houseand rushing to his aid, when I've been sitting in the stands with an injury for almost an hour-"
"-Awwww poor wittle Dwaco, jealous of the Boy-Who-Lived…" Estella raised a brow. "Aren't you getting a tad old for such insecurities?"
"I am not jealous!" said Draco defensively, grabbing a hold of the scarf Estella had since wound back around her neck, pulling the girl towards him. "But do you have any idea how you're making me look? Surely you are not completely blind to the negotiations presently being drafted between our respective guardians? And how do you think your uncle – a man who has raised you since infancy – will be feeling right now, seeing you consorting with the team opposing his own House?"
"Whatever transpires between my uncle and I happens to be none of your business," said Estella firmly; "and I hardly think that whatever plans our guardians are plotting for our futures should have any bearing on how we spend our present!"
Nostrils flaring in barely-controlled anger, Draco's mouth gaped open and closed a few times before he brushed past her bluntly and returned his ill attentions towards Harry – lest he say something to Estella that he'd later regret. By the time Estella had calmly rearranged her scarf and taken a few stabilising breaths; not moving back towards the growing crowd behind her until she had gotten control of herself, all manner of hell was breaking loose.
"Or perhaps," she heard Draco leer as she wandered back into earshot; "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it-"
What happened next, Estella was not even sure a Pensieve could recreate with any clarity. All she knew was that Harry and George had attacked Draco and, after their teammates had managed to pull them off, she had straddled the fallen, bloodied Slytherin brutally and pulled him up by the collar of his robes.
"Take. It. Back!" she spat into his face, her face contorted into a blind rage. In shock, Draco's body was limp in her arms, and her knuckles glowed white as she hauled him upright with hidden strength.
"What… what…" Draco spluttered, almost frightened by her display.
"Lily Evans was twice the woman your mother could ever hope to be in two lifetimes!" she said, her throat constricting dangerously as tears blinded her eyes. "You take it back now, Draco Malfoy, or I swear to Merlin your life won't be worth living – I don't care what master you serve! You hear me?"
"Estella Black!" a cold, positively livid voice chilled her to the bone, bringing her back to her senses as a strong hand pulled her off the quivering, injured Slytherin by the scruff of her neck.
Wheeling around to ogle at the force who had pulled her away from strangling Draco with her father's scarf; Estella balked at the dark expression on her uncle's face. Worming herself out of the man's iron grip by shrugging off her outer cloak, she did the only thing she though she could do: she ran.
She didn't know how she had found her way into the old disused attic level that her godfather had taken her Boggart hunting in what seemed like a lifetime ago; but, collapsing gratefully into a musty old chair, Estella sought solace in her solitude. Through the stream of hot, burning tears, Estella wondered idly just what form her Boggart would take if she came across one right at that moment.
"I can't believe I did that!" she said angrily to herself, sneezing as she inhaled a lungful of dust and soot. If she hadn't just blown her cover with the Malfoys and irreparably damaged her uncle's position, it would be a miracle. Suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to confide in someone who could guide her with an objective mind, Estella did the one thing she'd sworn never to do.
"Uncle Remus?" she whispered into her mirror brokenly, pulling the small handheld item out of its place in her robes. "Moony, can you talk? Please be there…"
"Estella? What is it? What's wrong, cub?" Remus' concerned profile appeared almost immediately, and Estella had to wonder if he had a habit of staring at the mirror in anticipation.
"I stuffed up!" she let out a ragged sob.
Frowning, Remus wore an expression as though he wanted nothing more than to leap through the glass and comfort her; and Estella was grateful to him for it.
"All right now, cub, take a deep breath and start from the beginning. I'll be here," said Remus in his calm mediative voice. "Take your time. It's hardly ever as bad as we first think-"
"I attacked Draco in front of the entire school after he insulted Lily," Estella interrupted, as though challenging him.
"I did say, hardly ever," said Remus lightly, his tone belying the growing concern on his face. Having been a part of his godchild's life since before she could remember, he was intimately aware of what such a public show of loyalties could mean for Severus' precarious position.
Chuckling mirthlessly, Estella leant back in her chair, coughing and spluttering when movement sent a cloud of dust billowing over her head. Seeing this, Remus tensed.
"Where are you? Please tell me you haven't left the school-"
"I haven't left the school," Estella deadpanned, relenting only when she saw the panic rise up in her godfather's eyes. "Honest! I'm in the… the… Boggart room, for lack of a better word. You know I cannot believe how little of the castle the school actually uses…"
"Estella, it's not healthy to run from your problems…" Remus' brow furrowed as he struggled to find the right words to placate the distraught child. "Why don't you tell me what happened, exactly?"
Estella began to explain the circumstances in which she had allowed her temper to get the better of her, becoming more and more self-effacing as she went.
"I was so stupid! I don't even know what set me off!" she said in mild disgust. "I had managed to hold back when he was talking about his dad and my uncle – you don't know how much I had wanted to wipe the superior look off his face by telling him I'd rather die than give Lucius Malfoy something he wants – but then when he started on Lily, with Harry, I just… I don't know, I just don't know!" She rubbed at her forehead in confusion. "I wasn't even that close with Lily, I mean, back then… yes, she was supposed to be my godmother, but I never got to know her like I do you; it's just a title-"
Remus nodded in understanding.
"Perhaps you were acting in defence of Harry's feelings, rather than just your own?" he suggested. "I imagine you wouldn't like it if anyone said such things about your mother-"
"Well whatever I was doing, I don't know what I was thinking!" said Estella, frowning. "What am I supposed to do now? I've ruined everything - "
"All right, so you said some things to Draco Malfoy… and, er, attacked him… but, Estella, your uncle has been in this game a long time; I'm sure he can handle a fifteen year old boy. You should go and talk with him-"
"But he was so mad, Uncle Remus! You didn't see the look on his face!"
"Estella, I cannot speak for your uncle, but if all this happened in front of the school as you said, have you stopped to consider that perhaps his reaction was tempered by the mask he must where in public?" he paused, allowing Estella to ponder his words. When the child shrugged submissively, he continued. "Come now, cub, don't tell me you fear facing him – that's… that's not like you."
"I know. I'm not afraid… I'm just… ashamed, I guess." Estella bowed her head. "I really blew it, Uncle Remus. After all he's taught me I go and lose my temper like an undisciplined hothead!"
"Estella, you're a teenager. You're allowed to act impulsively," Remus assured her. "I've always maintained that Severus was expecting too much, throwing you into that role at such a young age. Children learn both by example and by their own mistakes. Trust me on this."
"Mistakes get people killed;" said Estella sullenly; mirroring the words her uncle had drilled into her. "But you know what? I can't undo it, and hiding up here is only prolonging my torment. I'd best go get it over with."
"Well don't look all excited!" said Remus. Sobering, he smiled approvingly. "I'm proud of you, Estella. Just remember that you've had to handle more than the average teenager; and all things considered you've done a better job than most adults. Don't let this one error of judgement get you down. All you can do is move on, and if Severus is as smart as he makes out, he'll know it too."
"Thanks, Uncle Remus. I knew I could count on you to know the right thing to say." said Estella.
"It's what I'm here for," said Remus, blowing her a kiss. "Good luck, I'll speak to you tomorrow."
Estella was just about to ask her godfather what he meant by that but he was gone, and then it hit her: tomorrow was her birthday.
"Happy Birthday to me," she drawled sarcastically to herself as she dusted her robes and made her way downstairs.
Once outside her uncle's quarters, Estella found she did not know what to do next. Though Remus' suggestion had quelled her unease, the look on her uncle's face still made her hesitate. Raising a clenched hand, she did the one thing she could not remember ever having done at that particular door before: she knocked. Complex charms layering the boundaries of the dungeon quarters prevented noise from inside travelling into the hallway; and so Estella had no warning for when the door would be answered. Just as she had been about to knock again, the wall disappeared and her hand met thin air.
"What are you doing, knocking?" her uncle said gruffly, looking as though he had just been interrupted. Before she could answer, he exhaled forcefully and grabbed her wrist, pulling her inside.
"I'm… I'm sorry…" said Estella dejectedly, trying to look over her shoulder at her uncle as he steered her towards the fireplace, his hand firmly resting between her shoulder blades, nudging her forward.
"So you should be," a voice from the fireplace caused Estella to freeze in her tracks.
Feeling her uncle stabilise his presence behind her back, neither forcing her forward nor giving her room for retreat, she looked up at him in silent question.
"I have just finished explaining to Mr Malfoy that your mother was… close… to Lily Potter; and that your valuing of her opinion is the only way you can feel close to her."
Estella nodded mutely, unwilling to volunteer any information when she did not know where her uncle was going to take his line of questioning.
"I'm not an unreasonable man, Estella," said Lucius, his voice dripping with false securities. "I'll grant that a child could be compelled to defend the choices of a parent… but that does not mean that I can accept harm befalling my son."
"I didn't hurt him!" she protested quietly, though she knew it was pointless to argue. Above her head, Estella could see the two men exchange a silent look. Coming around in front of her, her uncle drew his wand fluidly and balanced each end between his fingers as he spoke.
"Lucius has insisted on bearing witness to your punishment; and I have received permission from the High Inquisitor to discipline you at my discretion, as is my right as your guardian." Although Severus had his back to the fireplace and could have taken the opportunity to impart a silent message to his niece, Estella could deduct nothing from his empty expression.
Standing firm, Estella braced herself for the worst; knowing full well that her actions earlier had consequences and her uncle was powerless to prevent the chain of events, lest he blow his cover. Thinking that it would help them both, she looked up at her uncle pleadingly.
"May I turn around?" she asked resignedly, nodding to give consent to the use of magic on her, as the school wards now required for certain, protected students.
Severus regarded her with an odd expression on his face before turning and looking to the figure in the fireplace for approval. Only when Lucius motion his assent did he nod at his niece.
Turning to face the armchair she had spent many an evening of her childhood curled up in with a book, Estella winced when she heard Lucius' Malfoy's next words.
"Just make her scream, Severus." the maliciousness in the man's voice was unmistakable, and Estella did not have to turn to visualise the look the man was undoubtedly wearing.
A whispered spell and the sound of wood slicing the air was the only warning Estella got before the spell hit her back. Far from being localised, the pain rapidly spread to every inch of her body with staggering force. All at once, her body felt on fire, as though under the ministration of thousands of tiny knifes prickling her every nerve. Taking an involuntary step forward, she staggered until she could stand no longer. Falling to her knees, she leant forward, bracing herself up with one arm whilst the other clawed at her skin, trying to soothe an ache that would not abate. Her eyes fixed on the floor; she fought to hold back the scream that was caught in her throat. Swallowing determinedly, she concentrated instead on regulating her breathing, which, by now, was coming in hoarse, ragged gasps.
"You are not trying hard enough, Severus!" said Lucius accusingly, disappointed because the girl he wished to curse into submission would not break.
"Lucius, it remains apparent that she is rather determined not to indulge your perversion," said Severus in a strained voice, lowering his wand and ending the spell. "I will not risk permanent damage to satisfy your whims. She has learnt her lesson."
"But-" Lucius' voice was petulant.
"Perhaps you ought not to have announced your intent to hear her scream," said Severus in a silky tone, casting an eye back towards his niece, who was curled up on the floor facing away from them, her whole body heaving as she fought to steady her breathing. "Now, if that will be all, Lucius-"
Fighting to get a glimpse of the girl from where the dark-robed man had strategically stood in the way of his view, Lucius relented. "Very well, Severus," he said smoothly. "Do consider your invitation for Christmas. Narcissa will simply be delighted to see you and Estella again."
No sooner had Lucius severed the Floo connection did Severus act. Crossing the room purposefully, he retrieved a small vial he'd set aside and made his way to his niece's side. Before he could reach her, she was pulling herself up into a sitting position. Setting the vial down on a low table behind her, Severus hastened to assist the child, squatting down to her level and gently trying to stop her movement.
"Wait til you have had your potion," he said.
Something in the way her uncle had kept the potion on hand and just referred to it as 'hers' made something within Estella to fold up into a hard, impenetrable ball.
"You knew!" she said in a low, quiet voice. Her uncle had known what sort of punishment Lucius would have expected, and still he didn't warn her. She stared at the vial in her uncle' hand but made no move to accept it.
"Estella-" Severus was at a loss for words and he rocked back on his heels in contemplation. "Of course I knew! You foolish child, why did you knock? Did you really suppose that I would have changed the password to keep you out of our quarters without reason?" he ran a weary hand over his face in frustration. "Why did you give me permission? I could have told Lucius that your father had invoked a blood ritual to protect you -"
"Oh, so it's all my fault then, is it?" snapped Estella. "I'm supposed to be able to read your mind, am I? Maybe I knocked because I thought I no longer had a right to use a password. Maybe I knocked because last time I turned up unannounced Lucius Malfoy was sitting in your chair! Maybe I gave you my permission because I trusted you, and I didn't want to blow your cover anymore than I already have today! Or maybe the fact Lucius is well aware of the Governor's latest ruling had something to do with it!"
"Estella-" Severus began haltingly, holding the vial closer to her. "Take the potion."
Swiping the back of her hand towards her uncle's wrist, Estella knocked the potion out of his hand, sending it tumbling towards the floor where it shattered on impact; it's contents pooling on the cold stone amidst a hissing mist.
"I don't want your stinking potion."
"Why must you insist on making things difficult for yourself? I could have let up after two seconds had you reacted as Lucius had wished; and now after enduring the spell for ten seconds, you are refusing treatment?" said Severus, trying his best to alleviate some of his own guilt.
"I would never give that monster the satisfaction," said Estella bitterly, a determined look in her eye. "Never again."
Pulling herself up by the table and a nearby chair, Estella stood shakily.
"If that will be all-" she said in clipped tones, all prior intentions pertaining to any guilt she'd felt about her foolish actions all but forgotten. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that her godfather had been right: yes she had made a mistake, but she was still young, and oughtn't to be punished for her inexperienced learning curve.
"No, that will not be all," said Severus tiredly, slightly grating at his niece's attitude since meetings with Lucius had, of late, a habit of trying his patience. "You will sit in your chair and not exert yourself again until I return from my office with another vial."
Humouring him, Estella allowed herself to be assisted to her armchair by the fire; only as soon as he vacated the room she pulled herself back up and made for the door, determined to leave the dungeon quarters. While deep down she knew that her uncle would never turn his wand on her by choice, she could not help but feel slightly betrayed by the man's apparent lack of trying. The idea of her uncle treating her as though she were older and more capable of handling adult responsibilities was not new, but when combined with the protective nature of her father and godfather, the two extremes never failed to confuse her.
"Estella!" a worried voice signalled to Estella that she was not alone in the usually isolated corridor. A slight movement in the shadows ahead of her heralded the presence of a slightly built blonde Slytherin hurrying towards her. Her shaking hands slipping on the damp, slippery stone wall as she struggled to keep herself upright and moving forward, Estella stumbled into a pair of waiting arms.
In a strange, almost uncharacteristically kind voice, Draco Malfoy pulled her toward him and spoke. "I came as soon as I could. Merlin, Estella, what did he do?"
"Why are you so surprised, Draco? Estella said snappishly, too tired to talk any further.
"I'm not, I just... you... you always... I'm just surprised. All right, I am surprised! Can you blame me?"
"Draco," she cut him off with some effort, for her voice was barely audible. "Nothing like this has ever happened before. There was... there was an audience. He had no choice."
Draco looked taken aback. "Then I have even more cause to be disappointed," he said soberly. "If your uncle cannot even stand up to my father, then what chance do I stand?"
"Where are you leading me?" Estella asked suddenly, choosing to ignore Draco's earlier comment because she found herself without an answer.
"My common room-" Estella stiffened and halted in her tracks. Draco maintained a firm but gentle grip on her, coaxing her forward. "-It's closest. No one would think to look for you there... don't look at me like that! They won't! When was the last time you dropped by? Come, I have a potion that will help you, and I assure you that the Slytherin house elves are very discreet."
Allowing the gentle, considerate wizard to guide her towards the Slytherin commons, Estella had to admit that the boy's plan had some merit. Even if she had the strength to make it to the hospital wing, Estella knew that her condition would raise too many questions; and loath as she was to admit it, the students of her house would not be as understanding. Deep down, she had some misgivings about placing her trust in Draco while she was so particularly vulnerable. Then again, something about the blond boy's unprecedented concern and gentleness with her fuelled the little voice inside her head that had always been reluctant to write-off the Malfoy heir. If she was truly honest with herself, despite how dangerous or malevolent he may be towards those he deemed lesser than him, he'd never posed a threat to her, let alone wished her harm.
"Thank you," she muttered meaningfully as he assisted her to a couch in an easily over-looked corner of the sprawling dungeon common room, sending a group of loitering House members packing with a well-placed glare and wave of his hand as he did so.
"Will you be all right here for a moment while I fetch the potion from my trunk?" Draco looked down at her hesitantly. "I'm sure it would be redundant of me to assure you that my fellow Slytherins will hardly react as adversely as we have so unjustly been credited-"
Tucking the worn Gryffindor scarf she still wore discreetly out of sight, Estella sank gratefully into the cool leather of the couch and willed her twitching nerves to relax.
"What, not going to invite me to your room, Draco?" she teased. Sobering at the somewhat scandalised look he shot her, she nodded. "Relax, I'll be fine. The upper years ought to remember me from my previous visits and the lower years surely know better than to ask questions."
Nodding once in agreement, Draco turned to leave, but paused in his tracks.
"I do apologise. How rude of me - Asphodel! -" With a snap of his fingers a house elf wearing a Slytherin-themed pillowslip appeared, and Estella couldn't help but smirk at the Slytherin tradition of naming house elves after potion ingredients. Draco continued; "The house elf will see to any of your immediate needs. I will return momentarily."
With a practiced flourish, Draco spun on his heel and took off towards the boy's dormitories without a backward glance, leaving an obedient house elf in his stead.
"Does Master Malfoy's visitor require a refreshment from the kitchens?" the young-looking elf looked at her politely.
"Not at this moment," Estella shook her head. "But you could keep me company... tell me, how long have you served Slytherin House? It mustn't be long if you do not know me. You must be the youngest house elf I've ever seen!"
"If it pleases you, miss, I am the youngest on staff. I am the eleventh generation of my line to serve the House of Slytherin. I have been in service for one year, three months and twelve days…"
The first thing Estella couldn't help but notice about this strange little elf was just how much more articulate she was compared to most of the other house elves she had ever come across. While house elves normally did not become in the service of their masters until they had reached a specific age - of which Estella doubted this elf had attained - she could tell immediately why an exception may have been made. Not only did this elf appear to be smarter than other elves, but if it were true that her line had served the House for eleven generations, then it was quite possible that her ancestor had been chosen for service by Salazar Slytherin himself.
"If you pardon me asking, Miss," Asphodel ventured after a pause. "You have an interest in house elves?"
"Not really," said Estella, immediately regretting her words, lest she offend the creature. "Sorry, that came out wrong. What I mean is that I had to learn a lot about them last year when a friend of mine tried to free you all-"
"You are friends with Hermione Granger?" Asphodel took a step back in alarm, as though suddenly afraid that Estella may burden her with clothes, setting her free.
"Yes, she is an acquaintance, but don't worry, I never agreed with what she was trying to do. I made myself learn about house elves so I could try and convince her that you didn't all want to be freed." said Estella diplomatically.
Asphodel smiled in appreciation, but before either could continue their conversation further, Draco returned.
"Bring us some supper," he demanded, and with a snap of his fingers, the house elf popped out of sight.
"Well, that was rather rude, don't you think?" said Estella. "Asphodel and I were in the middle of a conversation. Did you know her line has served this House for eleven generations?"
"So, what of it?" said Draco, falling onto the couch beside Estella and offering her a goblet of potion. "The line of that elf, Dobby, had served my father's family for seven generations and look what happened there."
"With all due respect, Dray," she said, reverting back to her childhood name for him as the informality of the setting allowed. "After having experienced your father's hospitality, I cannot blame Dobby for defecting. Surely you can realise that loyalty comes not from blood or tradition but rather from the heart."
Draco looked at her with a strange expression on his face, his eyes never leaving hers as he considered her words. Averting her eyes shyly, Estella felt her cheeks flush with heat and she shifted uncomfortably.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, breaking all conversation as she took the goblet from Draco and, after inspecting it quickly, downed it in one mouthful. Explaining her hesitation apologetically, she shrugged. "Sorry, force of habit... still as gross as ever."
They sat in companionable silence as they waited for the potion to take effect. Feeling her nerve endings beginning to settle and relax, Estella breathed a sigh of relief.
"You know-" she said suddenly, "it's rather ironic..."
"What is?"
"Oh, nothing..." said Estella, knowing that it would not be entirely appropriate to tell Draco that she had taunted his father by ridiculing the boy's abilities during her incarceration that previous June. Frowning slightly at the realisation that she had perhaps underestimated Draco, she bowed her head. "I'm sorry."
"Whatever for?" Draco asked, pulling back to look at her fully.
"For underestimating you," she said. "Everyone sees you as your father's son... and... and you let them, don't you? But you're not like him at all, are you?"
"Yes I am!" said Draco defensively, a panicked look in his eyes as he scanned the room urgently, as though trying to make sure no one was listening.
"Don't play me for a fool, little Dragon;" she revelled in the shock on the reticent Slytherin's face as she used Narcissa's pet name for her son. "You may epitomise what it is to be a Malfoy when it comes to claiming your place in the hierarchy, but you know as well as I do that Lucius Malfoy is not capable of compassion."
"So this is what you think this is?" Draco raised a brow at her in challenge.
"All right, so you could be doing this to try and lure me in to some grand scheme of your father's, but I don't think you are-"
"And why is that?" he asked in a whisper, leaning in close. "I am as adept at closing my mind as any trained Occlumens, there is no possible way you can read my intentions-"
"Oh, there isn't?" Estella quirked a brow in equal challenge. "Then why don't you sound so sure?"
Leaning back into the couch, Draco ran a hand through his meticulously groomed hair, ruffling it up in the process.
"What do you want from me, Estella? I know you don't... don't like what is happening... what my father is trying to do…" he frowned, unusually inarticulate as he tried to find the right words. "-I know you don't like me, Estella, but... but I want you to know that I wouldn't-"
"Draco," Estella interrupted him. "It's not that I don't... I mean... I just... I don't take too well to being forced into situations I have no control over. It's nothing personal."
Draco blinked at her, his mouth slightly agape, before smiling slightly.
"Well that's something I'd say we can agree on."
"Yeah, I suppose so," she nodded slowly, rather disconcerted with the realisation that Draco appeared amenable to his father's plans.
A slight crack preceded the return of the young house elf, Asphodel, bearing a tray of goods. Accepting a plate of cake gratefully, Estella yawned and stared at the food.
"On second thoughts, she said, casting the plate aside. "I'm too exhausted to lift a fork… I should probably get back to my common room while I still have the ability to stand – if I could just use your Floo-"
"Nonsense, go back and have to explain yourself? In your condition? Rest first, then you may go," said Draco, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to take the fork from her hand. "Here, let me help you with that-"
"Draco, I can feed myself!" Estella protested weakly as the blonde boy cut a piece of cake and raised the fork towards her.
"You said you were too exhausted to lift a fork," said Draco, waving said utensil in front of her face playfully. "You'll feel better for having eaten something – you know you will! Now come on, I promise not to use this against you… hell, I doubt anyone would believe that I would ever do it at all-"
Entirely too comfortable and tired to argue, Estella submitted herself to Draco's ministrations. From this angle, with her leaning against a warm body as strong arms enclosed her, the one around her shoulders dexterously holding the plate in front of her and catching the crumbs, all Estella had to do was open her mouth and accept the small portions of chocolate cake the boy was offering her. Physically and emotionally sated though half the slice remained, Estella shook her head and closed her eyes contently. What happened next Estella could not be sure if it were a manifestation of her mind, or Draco's. Flashes of thought, of images, passed into her as she found herself falling asleep, lulled by the sedatives she knew were infused in the potion and further hypnotised by the steady breathing of the force next to her. Upon seeing projected images of a wedding day, of a loving couple feeding each other wedding cake, Estella jerked in shock and gasped softly. Beside her, Draco's hold on her tightened reflexively and he murmured sleepily into her hair.
"Shhh… just rest a while… you'll feel better… try not to think so much…"
Unable to put up any resistance – for Estella suddenly doubted that she even had cause to – she allowed her eyes to drift closed once more. The last thing that crossed her mind before she lost total consciousness was that the younger Malfoy didn't just see them together because of a supposed blood debt – he really, actually liked her. In a lot of ways, she knew that his infatuation towards her was not that much different to how she viewed Harry – for while she had been raised with the idea that she and Harry would have been like siblings had things turned out a little differently, Draco had undoubtedly been raised with the knowledge that his future spouse would be none other than the daughter of a Black. While it did surprise her that Draco appeared sincere in not wanting go ahead with the planned union unless she reciprocated his feelings, her resolve to never let Lucius Malfoy get what he wanted was stronger than any emerging feelings she may ever begin to feel towards this new sensitive side of Draco.
'I won't fall for him! I won't' she scolded herself repeatedly as sleep finally claimed her.
When next Estella was aware of her surroundings, she was lying down in a dark room. Swallowing the rising panic when she realised she still had her wand, Estella sat up and took a few calming breaths. Casting a weak lighting spell and realising immediately that she was in her bedroom in her uncle's quarters, she pushed aside the guilt she felt at having misjudged Draco so readily and ran a hand through her hair. Activating the lamps in her room, she got up to find that she was still fully clothed. She could only speculate that her uncle must have happened upon her in the Slytherin common room and brought her back with him. Stilling her movements, Estella tried to detect any movement outside her door but could hear none. Casting a refreshing charm on her robes, she spelled the tangles out of her hair and made her way out of the room. When she found her uncle's rooms empty, she set out to look for him. Only when her stomach began to rumble as she reached the sunlit cloisters on the ground floor did she realise the time, and it as while on her way to the Great Hall for breakfast that she heard it – music. Descending a staircase that led to another wing of the dungeons, Estella made her way towards the curious noise. Before she could reach her destination, however, she tripped on thin air and landed heavily on the floor, a warm, heavy mass knocking the wind out of her as it landed on top of her.
"What the-?" she protested, her words cut off by an invisible, cloaked hand over her mouth.
"Shhh!" a familiar voice whispered into her ear urgently, tugging his cloak away slightly so he could gesture wordlessly towards the door nearby.
Correctly guessing what Harry was trying to do, she accepted a place under his cloak and pressed her ear up against the door.
"…cannot afford mistakes, Draco, because if you are expelled-"
Estella gasped quietly to hear her uncle's voice, apparently talking to Draco, whose voice she heard next.
"I didn't have anything to do with it, all right?"
"I hope you are telling me the truth, because it was both clumsy and foolish. Irrespective of if the bearer was the intended target, the carelessness of the delivery method endangered my niece's life. Thankfully she was intelligent enough not to touch it, but I warn you now, I don't take too well to such threats to her life-"
"After what you did to her last night, I find that hard to believe-"
"I thought we agreed not to discuss that!"
Beside her, Estella could feel Harry's eyes bore into her in silent question. Ignoring him, she pretended to be preoccupied with listening to the conversation beyond the door.
"I acted no differently than what your own father would have – are you suggesting that he would not take measures to ensure your safety?"
"That's exactly what I am suggesting – don't look at me like that! I know what you are doing, I'm not stupid, but it won't work – I can stop you!"
There was a pause and then her uncle said quietly, "Ah, Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?"
Harry made a small noise of indignation, and Estella was unsure if the boy beside her were satisfied at the revelation Draco was in the service of a master, or if he were put out by the realisation that Draco Malfoy was successful at something he was far from mastering: Occlumency. Listening to Draco's staunch denial, Estella had a feeling that she knew just what Draco was trying to conceal from interfering minds; and what's more, she duly suspected that she had been afforded a view of those thoughts the night before. When she heard next that Draco had been ignoring her uncle's summons, she couldn't help but suspect that he was maybe, just maybe, hiding something else; and she knew that despite the warnings to stay away, she was probably in the best position to find out just what it was.
"Listen to me," said her uncle, in a low, quiet voice Estella recognised as a sign of his exasperation. "I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco-"
Estella's hands flew to her mouth as she struggled to muffle her cry of surprise. Shuffling movements on the other side of the door alerted the eavesdropping pair and they backed away from the door, flattening themselves against the far wall, the cloak barely concealing them both from the emerging Slytherins.
"Would you care to tell me what that was all about?" asked Harry once they were alone. "What happened last night?"
"My uncle made an Unbreakable Vow!" she exclaimed, in shock. "Do you know what that means?"
"Er, no, I don't actually-" said Harry.
"I can only hope that the vow was conditional," Estella's voice shook as she spoke more to herself than to the confused boy before her. "How could he be so careless? From the sound of it, if anything ever happens to Draco, my uncle will be in breach of the Vow…and that could cost him his life in the most unimaginable way!"
"Why would your uncle go to such lengths to protect the enemy?" asked Harry.
Bristling slightly at the label, 'enemy', Estella found that she had the same question. The more she thought about her uncle's recent behaviour, the more she began to doubt his loyalties. What drove him to enter into an Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy? Had he entered into a similar arrangement with Lucius, pertaining to her? She'd never thought it would be possible, but then again she'd never expected her uncle would submit himself to an Unbreakable Vow in the first place. And what of last night's punishment? Why not maintain that she had ignored his summons like Draco seems to have done habitually. The question of how Lucius even came to learn of the exchange between herself and Draco so quickly was something else she could not comprehend. What if, by going to live with her father full time, she had inadvertently driven her uncle back to the Dark side?
Shaking sense into herself, Estella scolded herself mentally. Knowing her uncle, she knew that he would not have entered into such a Vow unless he needed to reinforce his position as a spy. Furthermore, it was ludicrous that he would ever promise her to Lucius, knowing how she felt about it, as was the mere thought that her absence had driven him back to the Dark Lord's side. He knew where her loyalties stood, and so surely realised that to take such a step would lose her, irrespective of if he were her guardian or not.
"Hey… hey!" Harry waved a hand in front of her face frantically. "You're not allowed to frown on your birthday. Give your mind a break and try not to think so much for a change."
Instantly reminded of something Draco had said, Estella smirked at the irony – if only they knew how alike they truly were. Her smirk quickly turned into a grin when it hit her that she was now fourteen.
"Now, that's better!" said Harry, throwing an arm around her shoulder and whispering birthday accolades into her ear. "You had breakfast, yet?"
"Nope, you?"
"I grabbed a bite at Slughorn's Halloween Breakfast," said Harry, cringing at the memory.
"Oh, so that's what all that racket was! Guess he scheduled a breakfast because no one in their right mind would want to miss the Halloween Feast!"
"What, like you made us do in your first year to go to the Deadthday Party?" Harry teased.
"Yes, well I did warn you to eat something before hand!" Estella reminded him, pulling away suddenly. Calling back at him over her shoulder, she challenged him to a race. "Beat you to the Great Hall!"
Breakfast flew by uneventfully, with the exception of a few impatient Ravenclaws waiting to wish her well. To John's chagrin, Estella insisted that they all join the Gryffindors for the morning meal… Harry, after all, being family to her now. Surprisingly, though, the two seemed to handle each other's presence with good humour, such was the magic of birthdays. It wasn't until classes began that things began to unravel. Of all the days for Dolores Umbridge to schedule an observation of the fourth year classes it just had to be her birthday; and far from being fooled by the so-called coincidence of the woman's timing, Estella was determined to make the most of it.
The week of detentions she 'earned' from the woman while she had been 'observing' the class in Transfiguration had been well worth it: the look on the toad's face when Estella had accidentally caused her mouse to leap up and fall down the neckline of the woman's blouse was an image she'd treasure forever. Of course, it went without saying that she was sorry for having resigned the mouse to such a grisly fate; after having shaken it out of her clothing, Umbridge had been quick to crush it under the heel of her shoe. But then again she supposed it was probably a nicer fate than if she had actually tried to transfigure it into anything, given her track record with live-animal transfigurations.
In the aftermath, even Professor McGonagall had a difficult time keeping a straight face, and for the first time, Estella was grateful that the stern teacher's opinion of her had changed once her father's innocence had been made public. Had she disrupted the lesson like this in first year, it wouldn't have mattered to McGonagall if she had just transfigured Voldemort into a teacup, she would have been toast. Now, as the elderly woman went to work swiftly dispelling Umbridge's suspicion that she had thrown the mouse at her deliberately by confirming her ineptitude in the subject, Estella could just tell that her father's former Head of House was likely reliving any number of incidents the Marauders had tested her with in their day. It was clear that the Deputy Headmistress did not wish to seek punishment for what was 'in her expert opinion', an accident; but with the imposition of one Educational Decree after another, the woman's hands were tied, and Umbridge was left with the 'duty' of assigning disciplinary measures.
If, after that incident, Estella had been hoping that the High Inquisitor would stop singling her out, she was sadly mistaken. When her uncle had tried to slip her another dose of potion when he'd noticed her hands shaking as she was handing up her assignment at the beginning of the next class, Umbridge had first accused her uncle of favouritism; and then suggested that her uncle should go back to teaching Potions should he feel so compelled to administer unauthorised dosages in class. To make matters worse, because Umbridge had intervened before Estella could imbibe the potion in question, by the time she had found her seat and pulled out her books she was no longer capable of maintaining a hold on her quill. That she then knocked her ink pot over just as the woman was passing her desk, sending ink spilling out onto the High Inquisitor's robes was truly an unfortunate coincidence… one Estella hardly felt sorry for given the circumstances, but accidental nonetheless. The class had subsequently ended in a precarious showdown between the High Inquisitor and her uncle. Severus could not detail the cause of Estella's shaking, and yet he couldn't in his right mind take the malevolent woman's side in accusing his niece of deliberately creating a nuisance given the true cause of her ailment. Instead, he worked hard at convincing the High Inquisitor that Estella's shaking was indicative of her having missed a dose of a potion she had been required to take ever since the 'incident' in June; for whilst the Ministry had been fully unable to accept Lucius Malfoy's involvement in Estella's disappearance, in acknowledging Voldemort's return, Scrimgeour's administration accepted that she had been kidnapped and subjected to 'unspeakable' horrors.
Buying this explanation, albeit begrudgingly, Umbridge made no move to retract her previous statement, instead admonishing Estella for carelessly and irresponsibly missing a dose of her medication and chastising her for disrupting class with her silence. A mix of Occlumency and imaginative thinking was all that stopped Estella from hexing the woman to next Christmas – picturing the uncoordinatedly attired woman as a cross-dressing Muppet served well to keep her in good humour. Knowing too that her uncle would owe her big time after this because she did not attempt to contradict the man's cover story with the truth gave her a sense of accomplishment. It was not often that Severus Snape was at her mercy, and in fact, Estella was hard pressed to recall such an event having ever taken place before.
Of course, the thought did occur to Estella as she was heading to lunch that her uncle's punishment of her had been necessary to maintain his favour with the overbearing Malfoy patriarch, but as rational as Estella considered herself to be that excuse wore thin when she could see several unexplored avenues that could have prevented it from ever happening. Whether it was her age and inexperience in subterfuge showing through or her hormones clouding her ability to approach things objectively, Estella could only conclude that her uncle simply didn't try hard enough to spare her Lucius' brand of discipline and that because he had chosen the perceivably easier path, then perhaps a small part of her uncle believed that she had deserved to be treated in such a way. Her mood, therefore, as she sat down for an impromptu birthday lunch with her friends, was decidedly glum.
"What's with the long face?" John asked her quietly, a deepening look of concern on his face as he noticed Estella picking at her food half-heartedly. "You're not hungry?"
Estella shrugged and continued to push her food around her plate aimlessly; her mind lost in thought. John sighed and waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention.
"This…" he leant in close and gestured towards her plate and slumped form; "this doesn't have anything to do with what happened in your uncle's class, does it?"
Shrugging again, Estella sighed. "Well I also happen to be a bit confused as to why neither Remus or my Dad have tried to contact me yet for my birthday. My godfather, I can understand, but this is the first birthday since Dad's been out of Azkaban – well, since I got to know him, anyway – and, well, nothing. Not even an Owl! It just doesn't make sense… he seemed so excited… I can't help but wonder if perhaps something has happened and no one wants to tell me yet because it's my birthday."
"I'm sure it's nothing," said John, though he wasn't too convincing. "You're just at odds because Umbridge has it in for you today… which reminds me, what happened in Defence, exactly? Why were you shaking? What was that potion? Was it really to treat side effects from what happened in June?"
Estella nodded stiffly, her heart crushed by the prospect of lying. Nodding was all she could do without lying outright. As it stood, insinuating that the incident in class was tied to what happened in June was not entirely a stretch for what had happened in both occasions was directly linked by one common denominator: Lucius Malfoy.
Before John could question her further, Estella's other friends, together with a pair of redheads and Harry and Hermione, made a spectacle of approaching the Ravenclaw table behind a small army of House Elves that were dwarfed by a massive birthday cake on their shoulders. The surprise festivities quickly dispensed with, a great majority of the school population enjoying a serving of cake with their meal; Estella paused to consider her friend's remarkable feat.
"How'd you pull it off?" she asked, casting a cautious look at the Head table. "Umbridge would not have allowed this if she knew… where is she, anyway? I don't think it's a coincidence that she's not here to interrupt."
"Uh, well, Fred and George should have both her and Filch demonstrably detained for the next hour," said Harry sheepishly. "I wouldn't recommend going into the south-east wing of the dungeons for the next day."
"But that's where my uncle's quarters are!" Estella exclaimed, eyes widening in shock.
"Oh?" said Harry, smiling wistfully as he cast a casual look up to where Professor Snape sat, oblivious to the instant swamp that now blocked the path to his quarters. "I'm sure he won't mind. It is, after all, for a good cause."
Chuckling dryly, Estella shook her head in amazement. "Why if I don't know any better, I'd say that was positively Slytherin, Harry James Potter."
"Speaking of Slytherins," Harry growled in an undertone, his attention drawn by the approach of one Draco Malfoy.
"Estella, a moment, please?" said a voice from behind her, alerting her to Draco's presence for the first time.
Looking to Harry in question, Estella hesitated. Sighing, Harry nodded his consent, but grabbed her hand before she could rise fully.
"Meet me back here before classes resume, yeah? I have something for you," he said.
Nodding, Estella squeezed his hand in assurance before allowing herself to be led away by his childhood nemesis.
"What can I do for you, Draco?" said Estella, coming to a halt against the wall closest to the front of the hall; within view of any teachers who happened to look into the little-used corner, but easily overlooked by the students a few feet away. "As you no doubt heard I am expected back momentarily."
Draco looked torn; appearing both reticent that his sworn enemy had staked a claim to the girl his parents had intended for him since his birth, and eager to indulge her needs.
"That's all right," he said finally, choosing the latter. Pulling a small, carefully wrapped package from his robes and holding it out towards her, he stared down at his feet. "I don't expect you to open it now… you wouldn't be you if you didn't have it checked first. I just didn't want it to stop me from acknowledging your birthday."
Remembering the conversation she had overheard earlier that day, and becoming somewhat suspicious of the boy's intentions when it appeared that he'd foregone the opportunity to give her a gift through her uncle, she made no move to take the small box.
"Why did you not give this to my uncle to pass on?" she asked warily.
"Oh for goodness sake, it's not a Portkey!" said Draco, the faintest traces of hurt in his voice. Gesturing towards subtly towards the Head Table where their movements had caught her uncle's eyes, he went on. "I didn't give this to your uncle because he has a habit of intercepting my family's gifts to you… rightfully so in some instances, knowing my father's tastes; but I didn't want to take that risk."
Staring into Draco's eyes searchingly, Estella relented, and hesitantly took the ribboned parcel from him.
"Fair enough," she said beseechingly. "But goodness, where are my manners? Thank you for your thought."
Though he had resigned himself to Estella taking his present away to be tested before opening it, Estella did not miss his hopeful look as he lingered. Tugging the end of the ribbon tentatively, Estella unravelled the bindings, allowing the soft, feather-thin parchment to flutter to the floor, revealing a small velvet box.
"Draco…" said Estella uncomfortably, images of the boy before her having given her a ring of some importance flying through her mind. She was distinctly reminded of the vision the young Malfoy had projected to her when last they were together.
Dispelling and further concerns, Draco took the small case from her and opened it; pulling out a small, delicate piece of metal and holding it between his fingers so she could see that it was safe.
"It's a nib," he explained, an inexplicable nervousness in his voice. "I wanted to get something you would use. Something that wouldn't stand out… but it's not just any nib."
Curious, Estella took the small piece of metal from him and inspected it closely, her eyes shimmering in appreciation as the light caught the fine etchings decorating its surface.
"Runes, Draco?" she asked, squinting to try and make out the fine transcription and failing.
"Custom-made. They spell the nib to assist penmanship;" Draco explained. "Not that I think your handwriting needs work, but it also performs the perfunctory task of spell-checking and dictation… for when you get writer's cramp," he paused. "I know a nib is useless without a feather, but I didn't want to impose one of those upon you when I am certain you already have a wonderful collection. I actually have one of these myself and can speak for its quality" – he paused – "I… I… have to warn you though that the material is silver. The runes have to be etched into a precious metal in order to take effect and all but silver are either too soft or brittle." – Estella stared at him pointedly – "If you cannot accept this for… for… family reasons, then I'll understand."
Placing the nib back in its case, which she then took from Draco, Estella shook her head.
"No, it's fine, really," she said, favouring the boy with a smile. "Of course, I will have to do some reading to ensure that my handling silver will in no way leave a residue on my skin – I mean I can make sure that my godfather doesn't use any of my stationery, but I would never forgive myself if he suffered at my hand."
Draco nodded in understanding, his prejudices being confined to Muggles and Muggleborns. Truth be told, though he viewed himself as being superior to Magical Creatures – especially those who were financially destitute - he had no qualms with his former Defence teacher. Many students of Slytherin House would never admit it, but it was undeniable that Remus Lupin had been a commendable, fair and efficient teacher.
"Very well," said Draco. "Know that I would have questioned the silversmith at length but I assumed that you would have appreciated the discretion of independent study."
"Completely. Thank you, Draco. That was most thoughtful," said Estella, touched by the fact that he knew that she liked to find things out for herself. "You're right in saying that I will have wanted to verify the facts independently."
"They didn't make you a Ravenclaw for nothing," said Draco warmly, his lips curling into a smile. "Many happy returns for the day, I hope whatever your acquaintances did to keep Umbridge away keeps her detained for as long as possible."
"You don't miss a trick," Estella stated, leaning forward on her tiptoes to kiss the tall boy's cheek in thanks. "Thank you for the nib. I'll use it – I know just the feather – I'll wear gloves if I have to. It will work out."
Draco's smile widened, his joy travelling all the way to his eyes and beyond. For a brief moment, Estella was caught off-guard by how charming the Malfoy heir actually looked by smiling like that, so out of character. Squeezing her arm in acknowledgement, he began to turn and back away.
"You should do that more often," Estella called after him, a grin tugging on her lips. "Smile like that, I mean. It's very becoming of you."
Hearing the emphasis of her last word, Draco turned back and regarded her with an unreadable look.
"With you around, it's hard not to," he said smoothly, his lips twitching compulsively before he commanded control of his features, stalking off once more with his arrogant, Malfoy gait firmly in place.
Estella was still slumped against the wall, her mind still reeling from the evidence that depicted Draco as being truly affected by her acceptance of his gift when Harry rounded the end of the long table between them and approached.
"Are you all right?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Malfoy's retreating form.
"Why wouldn't I be? Draco just wanted to pass on his regards for my birthday," said Estella nonchalantly, shoving the small box into her pocket.
"Yes, well you might not want to go back to your table just yet, because your boyfriend seems to think there was more to it than that," said Harry.
"He's not my boyfriend!" said Estella edgily. "I just enjoy his company… much like I enjoy yours, and even Draco's – when he's in his present mood, that is…" she sighed at Harry's affronted look. "I don't expect you to understand."
"Good, cause I don't," said Harry, making a face. "And John sure as hell doesn't. You gotta be straight with him, Estella-"
"Harry, just because I agreed to hang out with him in Hogsmeade one time, and then helped him to prepare for the Quidditch try-outs, it doesn't automatically imply that I have to answer to him about anything. Obviously if he has that impression I will have to set him straight, but not today – after the morning I just had, is it asking too much to end the day on a high note?" said Estella.
"So, you're still keen on the whole 'we have no room for relationships' thing?" said Harry, one brow raised. "I thought you and John get on okay-"
"Oh bloody hell, Potter, do I have to spell it out for you?" snapped Estella. "Do you think I want to go down the 'let's just be friends road' with someone I really like – there, I admit it – because I have a choice? Get with the program, Harry! If Lucius Malfoy is prepared to ruin my father's life to get what he wants, what do you think he will do to a boy who has taken my attention away from his son?" – she shook her head – "Don't give me that look! Before you ask, no, Draco has not made any threats. Believe it or not there is more to Draco than you would ever care to acknowledge. He might not like that my interests lie elsewhere, but he accepts it and unlike his father, Harry, he respects my right to choose – he won't be saying anything to Lucius. After all, an arranged marriage where one of the parties is unwilling is hardly good for either party."
"Fine. So Malfoy's looking out for himself by being nice to you and trying to make you like him," Harry conceded. "Don't mistake his 'understanding' for nobility… not when it's steeped in self-interest. I bet-"
"Stop. Harry, just stop!" Estella raised her hand and turned her head away. All of a sudden she realised how foolish she had been to believe that Draco's overtures were genuine and without malice. Harry's words cut through her like a knife when she saw just how close she had become to sympathising with the blond boy, allowing herself to be manipulated by him. "Can we not dwell on this today? Why did you want to see me?"
Nodding, Harry moved the conversation onwards. "Meet me in the mirror room before the end of the Halloween Feast. Slip away before the elves bring out the afters. Tell your friends that you're off to the loo – I promise you it will be worth your while."
"All right, I give up. Why am I here?" asked Estella as Harry sealed the door, making sure they were alone in the room before retrieving something from a pocket in his robes. "OK, what have you got here? Not even Draco was compelled to give me my present in complete secrecy!"
"Just open it!" Harry growled, shoving the small package into her hands.
Without hesitation, she opened the small box to reveal a -
"Hey, whoa, a Time Turner?" she said, awed. "Does my father know you're giving me this? You know my track record with them is not very good-"
"One…yes, it's a Time Turner," said Harry, ticking off her questions on his fingers as he answered them. "Two, yes your father knows… but before you get too carried away, this one is only on loan. For one day. Read the note."
Moving the Time Turner aside in its box, Estella extracted a small piece of parchment that lay folded underneath. Opening it with her spare hand, Estella shook out the paper to read. Looking up moments later, she gaped at Harry.
"Who made you a Portkey?" she asked. "Do-over my birthday? Leave the school without technically being gone at all? Only my father could think of something so… so… so…"
"Unbelievably wicked?" Harry's grin was so wide, Estella was certain that it had to hurt.
"Well I was going to say 'dangerous, risky and completely irresponsible'," she said, her lips twitching; "but that works too."
"So," said Harry, gesturing towards the Time Turner and pulling out a crushed coke can from his pocket. "Are you in?" – seeing Estella hesitate, he rattled the Portkey slightly. "I should warn you that Padfoot's promised to send you a Howler if you don't go. Said something about telling everyone within earshot about the time you – hey, don't shoot the messenger!"
At that, Estella stopped scowling at the Gryffindor and pulled the Time Turner out of its case. Slipping the extendable chain around both of their necks, she put its box into a pocket of her robes and looked to Harry expectedly.
"You'd better do it…I don't want to relive my birth!"
The room being an abandoned, empty antechamber in the heart of the castle, it was hard to gauge the regression of time.
"Wait, was that it?" said Estella finally, having never experienced a Time Turner at work, when it was working properly. "I don't feel any different. Are you sure it worked? For real?"
"We'll see," said Harry, holding out the crushed can. "If it worked, they'll be waiting."
"Who will?" asked Estella, her hand brushing the Portkey as Harry thrust it towards her, activating it and losing her words in a spiral of magic. She needn't have asked where they were as she stumbled to a halt at their destination; a pair of hands reaching out to grab her into a hug before she had chance to fall over. Finding herself in a familiar embrace, she looked up owlishly at her captor.
"Dad?"
"You didn't think I'd ignore you on your birthday, did you?" Sirius chuckled at his daughter's astonishment. "That I wouldn't move heaven and earth to spend the whole day with you," – he looked to the Portkey in Harry's hand – "now I have the means?"
Estella frowned in confusion. "The day is almost over-"
"From a certain point of view," Sirius nodded in due consideration, before leaning over Estella to accept the Time Turner from Harry, who was slightly behind. "Though thanks to this handy little artefact that Kingsley was kind enough to borrow from the bowels of the Ministry, I find it prudent to point out that your birthday is tomorrow."
"Yes, but I still had to live through the birthday from hell, thanks to Umbridge!" said Estella, pouting, before glaring slightly at Harry. "Wish someone had told me what to expect from the evening – it may have been a little more bearable."
"Ah well, at least we won't have to worry about getting back to the school for another 24 hours before we're noted as missing," said Harry. "Or we could just keep using the Time Turner if we wanted more time-"
"Like Groundhog Day?" asked Estella, feeling rather dizzy at the notion of living the day over; her mind bewildered by the knowledge that somewhere across the country, her former self was going about her business with no idea what lay ahead. Remembering then, the Quidditch match, that to her had happened a day ago but in terms of the present time, the aftermath of which was only just unfolding, she shuddered at the memory. Hopefully this makeshift do-over of her birthday will be much nicer than the day she'd just had. Looking up at the joy in her father's eyes, she could not help but relax.
Pulling his daughter into another embrace, Sirius chuckled. "That's exactly what Moony said!" he kissed the top of her head reverently before stepping away to ruffle Harry's hair and pull his godson into a one-armed hug. "Speaking of whom, he and Tonks should be here any minute."
The three exchanged a knowing look at the mention of Remus and Tonks arriving together. Spying the glint in her father's eye, Estella was reluctant to draw conclusions based on such supposition. Knowing her godfather as well as she liked to think she did, she knew that it would not be unlike him to offer to escort Tonks for safety reasons. That the woman was a fully-trained Auror may have not exactly leant itself to that theory, Estella was disinclined to think the same way as her father and Harry until Remus himself had provided confirmation.
"You know, Moony doesn't appreciate people speculating about his love life," said Estella as she caught Harry asking the question of what they were to call Tonks if she ever married Remus and changed her name.
"Damn straight, I don't!" said a voice from the shadows in a low gravely tone. There was a rustle of movement in the corner before a rather bemused pair could be visible. Placing his hand on his goddaughter's shoulder, squeezing it in greeting, Remus scowled at the other two. "You know perfectly well, Padfoot, that there was only one Portkey for the two of us! Please refrain from planting unsubstantiated ideas into the minds of those who are so impressionable – hullo there, Harry."
The rest of the evening passed in much the same fashion, with the two Marauders torturing each other with clever words and innuendo, leaving the teenagers in stitches and Tonks with a permanent blush on her cheeks. Distracting her with videos and tales of the past, no one would disclose to Estella the plans for the next day. Curious though she was, Estelle refrained from pushing the issue, content instead to anticipate a pleasant surprise. It was unfortunately easy for her to do so on account of her mind's preoccupation with keeping the effects of her uncle's punishment hidden.
"Are you all right, cub?" Remus had followed her out of the living room, cornering her as she emerged from the small potions laboratory in the cellar. "What are you doing?"
"I'm too jumpy to sit down and watch movies," said Estella, choosing her words carefully. "I came down to get a drink and was compelled to check up on things."
"Very well," said Remus, taking a deep breath in relief. "I was worried that you may be feeling under the weather. You look a little peaky."
'Trust Remus to be so perceptive' said Estella to herself. Aloud, she shook her head. "Maybe time travel doesn't agree with me or something. I'm fine. You worry too much," she said lightly. "It's nothing a potion and a day away from Umbridge can't fix."
Grimacing slightly at the mention of the woman's name, Remus nodded tersely and hugged Estella gently.
"Glad we could be of some assistance, then," said Remus, squeezing her affectionately before pulling away and draping an arm around her shoulder. "Now, I am certain I can compel you to come and watch the rest of the film with us – I came in here to fetch the chocolate truffles, you know."
"Bribing me with chocolate, Uncle Remus?" said Estella with a smile. "That's getting a bit old, don't you think? I would have come just for the company-"
"-well, no one said you had to have any chocolate!" Remus cut in, grinning.
"Oh, you know me… being unable to avoid eating a chocolate you put in front of me is about as certain as death and taxes." - she mock-glared at her godfather – "don't you give me that innocent look! You're the one who conditioned me this way, and don't think my uncle doesn't know it, either!" – he smirked at her guiltily – "which reminds me, why didn't you ever tell me who Mrs Flume really was? I figured it out by myself, I'll have you know…"
"I knew you'd figure it out on your own," Remus stated simply, casting a wry look in her direction before summoning a tray of chocolate treats and starting towards the living room with not so much as a backward glance.
Alone in the room once more, Estella's eyes lit up at the memory of something that she just knew the two grown Marauders in her life would appreciate. Tearing past her godfather, ignoring his look of puzzlement, she tore into the study to retrieve the Pensieve. The others having seen her blow through the adjoining living room like a hurricane had risen in surprise, following in her wake. A lone silvery thread of thought was affixed to the tip of her wand before anyone thought to speak.
"What-?"
Motioning for silence with her free hand, Estella deposited the memory into the shimmering pool.
"I almost forgot, you gotta see this!" she said, beckoning them to join her in the Pensieve.
"You threw that mouse down her blouse?" Remus pulled his head from the Pensieve moments later, not knowing whether to scold or smile.
"The look… the look on her face!" Sirius managed between gasps of laughter.
"We really shouldn't be laughing, you know," said Tonks cautiously. "That woman is more or less a teacher and…" her voice trailed off as four pairs of eyes glared at her. Defensively, she stood her ground. "Look, I'm just saying that it's a bit bizarre that you're encouraging Estella to be proud of when she does something wrong. Even if it's the least of what that old b-i-t-c-h deserves, what kind of precedent is it setting? A lot of people of my year would have said that Severus Snape deserved to have a cauldron of Bubblicious Shampoo upended on his head, but you didn't see me doing it, let alone rushing home to show the memory to my parents!"
Estella paled, and Sirius sighed.
"She's right, kiddo… as much as I hate to admit it," he said reluctantly, his eyes flicking to Remus for support, who nodded in agreement. "But then again, Dolly dearest is hardly a proper member of the Hogwarts staff…" – his eyes glinted in mischief – "so if you, you know, need any tips-"
"Sirius!" Remus and Tonks cut him off.
"See, what did I tell you? A match made…Ow! Moony, you prat, that hurt!" Sirius rubbed the spot where Remus had punched him in the arm vigorously, though the grin on his face discounted any real pain he might have been in.
"No more pranking the High Inquisitor, Estella," Remus said finally, causing Harry, Estella and Sirius to look at the werewolf as though he had just grown an extra head. Unable to hold onto his resolve, his face cracked into a smile. "At least not where she'll be able to so easily point the finger at you…"
"Good," Estella beamed under their approval. "Cause she deserves all I can give her and more after what she made Harry do-"
"Thanks a lot, Estella!" Harry cut her off, his hands instinctively burying themselves into the pockets of his trousers.
"Crap, Harry! It just slipped out!" Estella covered her mouth with her hand in horror as the looks on the adult's faces – particularly her father's – darkened.
"What just slipped out? What has that woman done?" said Sirius in a fiercely protective tone. "Explain."
Staring at the look of determination on her father's face, Estella changed tactics.
"If we tell you, you'll go and make a show of tearing the woman apart in your Animagus form" – she paused to savour the image – "which is all fair and good if you don't care to give Harry and I the opportunity to plot our own retribution by ourselves – after all, the Marauders accepted help from no one when becoming Animagi, isn't that what you say?"
"There go my words coming back to nip me in the butt," Sirius muttered, backing down reluctantly. "All right," he said, pointing to each of them in turn as though he were lecturing them; "I'm trusting you two to dispense fair and equitable justice – without getting caught – in the true spirit of the Marauders-"
"-since when were we ever 'fair and equitable'?" scoffed Remus, snorting in amusement.
"-since when were Harry and I Marauders?" countered Estella, a calculating look in her eye. "We're a step up from you lot… the Sorting Hat did favour us both for Slytherin for a reason…"
END CHAPTER
NEXT CHAPTER: Desperate Measures
DUE: Friday 19 May 2006
