In the time of the Order of the Phoenix, a mysterious transfer student from the United States of America comes to Hogwarts. With hair to rival Hermione's, and a tongue to rival Draco's, the suspicions and tensions rise in Professor Snape's classroom. And we thought Dolores Umbridge was the problem...
This story will be told in many different parts, in many different times. It will jump from the years at Hogwarts to the years after the war, and it'll be up to you to figure out the puzzle.
Narcissa 41
"Severus," said Mrs. Malfoy, adjusting her coat, "now that we've…" She cleared her throat. "May I speak another matter?"
"Truthfully, it would be a relief," said Snape, who poured himself another glass of Port.
"Cissy, now's not the time," said Bellatrix. "We shouldn't even be here."
Ignoring her elder sister, Narcissa turned away and began to pace a bit nervously. Narcissa finally settled back into the big armchair and took her glass of port. She sipped, sighed, and spoke. "Now that I know Draco will be safe, with you protecting him, I'd like to know more about this…protégé of yours I've been hearing about?" Severus tensed. "The American one?"
Severus quirked a brow and looked down his nose. "What about her?"
"Draco seems to have shown an interest in her." Severus tilted his head and nodded in agreement, it seemed. "I would hear your words of this girl."
"Narcissa," said Severus, "You've just seen your husband off to Azkaban. I doubt this is truly the time to be interviewing prospects for your son."
"I wouldn't be, had Draco not been asking." A tear began to form at her expertly-lined eye. "He needs some joy in his life. Perhaps the prospect of wedding a girl he seems to love will lift his spirits? She seems to be the only thing that brings a smile anymore."
After a very long pause, Severus nodded in understanding. "As much as it pains me to say: though she is an American, she's quite easily my best student. Top of her class at Ilvermorny, winner of several American junior potion-making competitions, Captain of the girls' Dueling Team; within the first month of her term I found her surpassing all of the others and leaving them in the dust. Naturally gifted, overly ambitious, insufferably curious…"
"And she is a Slytherin?" Narcissa pried, hoping that Severus would catch her meaning.
"Oh, yes, as Slytherin as they come," Severus admitted. He then turned on his heel and took a sip of his own glass. "A…true Slytherin, in every sense of the word." Bella and Narcissa both smiled. "In fact, she knocked Pansy Parkinson off her throne within her first week at Hogwarts. I'll say, however, that hers was a controlled and benevolent rule, unless crossed."
"And if crossed?" Bellatrix asked, now intrigued.
"There was seldom a Slytherin that crossed her; if there was, she would simply stick to purely psychological torment, something that narry a witch or wizard is prepared for. She did, however, turn a Gryffindor student into a piglet…and she ended up being rewarded for it."
"An American student transformed her classmate into a piglet?"
"Your sister doubts my word on the girl, Narcissa… Her skills in transfiguration are admittedly remarkable, especially for her age. I dare say had the Triwizard Tournament be held at Ilvermorny two years ago, things would have ended quite differently. Same can be said if she had attended Beauxbatons, as her grandmother wanted her to."
"A relief, then, that it took place at Hogwarts when it did," said Bella.
Severus continued, as if Bellatrix had said nothing. "If I were to choose, though, I'd say that Ella Zamora's tongue is her greatest weapon, oh yes. She somehow convinced Minerva McGonagall that it was her student's fault that he got turned into a piglet by bullying a younger Slytherin student. No points were deducted from either House, but she received no punishment from me."
"So she's clever," said Narcissa. "Clever, talented, a Slytherin, from a good family?" Narcissa sighed in relief. "That's good news, at least."
"We still know nothing of her family, Cissy," said Bellatrix, poking about the library. "Nothing at all."
"You'd not have met her mother, Bella, but Narcissa—you have. She was entering Hogwarts just as you were leaving. She was a year behind me. Penelope Spelling, the only daughter of Archibald Spelling, the potioneer. She, in fact, came from a whole line of Potioneers."
Bella snorted through her throat. "The Spellings are noveau riche. And they're not Purebloods."
Narcissa snapped her head around in protest. "They made their fortune in the 1800s, that's not so new," she argued. "And a cousin, here or there, breeding with a muggle can't be so bad, so long as it's not a direct line…could it?" She almost couldn't believe her own words as they spilled from her lips. But Draco's happiness was everything, now; Draco was all she had left in such a cruel world.
"The Spellings were fabulously wealthy, nobody can say otherwise. Spelling flaunted her father's wealth in her short time at Hogwarts before she moved to Ilvermorny… And money follows money, one would say, as young Penelope's husband was the son of a…very old American family."
"Zamora is an American name, then?" asked Narcissa.
"From what I understand, her father's paternal family originally hailed from Spain, who immigrated sometime in the 1910s. Her father's mother, however, is the daughter of the Coulter family. They have had ties to the Americas since its beginning."
"That's quite a bit of knowledge you've got on a girl of sixteen, Snape…" hissed Bellatrix suspiciously.
"It is my duty as Head of Slytherin house to know my students and of their relations. Everything I know of her is in her file, accessible to every Professor at Hogwarts."
A pause. Narcissa nursed her port again and nodded. "You've mentioned her grandmother?"
Severus sat, finally. "Helene Christophe, Beauxbatons graduate."
"Christophe?" gasped Narcissa. "Surely not the same Christophes that own all of those hotels and casinos in Monaco?"
"The same, indeed," said Severus. "The grandmother is an heiress to arguably one of the largest fortunes in the province. Quite frankly, though, I don't see Zamora giving up the quest to becoming a potioneer to manage all of those hotels. I have even offered her the position of Slytherin Prefect for her Sixth year but she turned it down."
Narcissa sneered in disbelief. "Why on earth would she do such a thing?"
Severus shrugged. "She claimed that it would take away from her studies, and that being responsible for the Slytherin students of her house would be akin to herding cats. Nevertheless, Zamora resides in Monaco under her grandmother's care over the summer. Perhaps Madame Christophe hopes to persuade her granddaughter into managing the hotels once she's graduated."
Narcissa paused and exchanged a knowing glance with Bella. If Draco wedded the girl, received even a portion of that fortune, and produced an heir, the Malfoy name would truly mean something again. If Draco were to, perhaps, manage the hotels and casinos in Monaco when he was older, then it would certainly be a fortuitous career move. Finally, Narcissa looked back to Severus. "So she can be managed," suggested she. "That's all a mother needs to know of a future daughter-in-law, isn't it? That she can be managed?"
A pause. "If kept occupied, yes," admitted Severus. "She can be managed. When left to her own devices, of course, she's been known to…start things."
Bellatrix frowned. "Such as?" asked Narcissa.
Severus gave an annoyed sigh through his long nose, as if annoyed by the mere memory of the event. "She began an underground Dueling club in the Hogwarts dungeons, for one."
"She wasn't the only one that raised an army, I hear…"
"Unlike Dumbledore, Zamora's intentions weren't based on overthrowing the Ministry. I'd call her an agent of chaos if I didn't know otherwise. But her intentions are always clear: to do exactly as she likes, when she likes." Severus took a sip of his port. "I'll say this, though: she's exceptionally talented and skilled in the subtle science of potion-making. In fact…she's already mastered the elusive wolfsbane potion."
A lump caught in Narcissa's throat. "Did you—?"
"No. She's just making the potions. She thinks it is all for practice. Put that girl in front of a cauldron and you'll see her occupied." Just then, a crash was heard upstairs. Severus closed his eyes and sighed, exasperated, through his nose. "Speak of the Devil…"
"She just…shows up at her Professor's house?" hissed Bellatrix in a rather ugly way; Severus obviously didn't care for what she seemed to be suggesting.
Severus snapped his robes in annoyance and moved to the door. "She practices potions here. Her grandmother doesn't care for experimentation in her penthouse."
"Wait," said Narcissa. "you needn't send her away…invite her down?" Before Severus could move, footsteps came bounding down the stairs and then a playfully loud knock came at the door.
"Profess—oh! Oh sorry!" Narcissa only saw a flash of brown skin and black hair before the door hurriedly closed again.
"It's alright, Zamora, come in," called Severus.
The door creaked shyly open, and Narcissa caught a glance of a black curl. A tall girl came in, dressed in a blue-and-white striped summer dress; she stood at attention, up straight and tall, with her hands gracefully in her front. Pretty enough, for her type, Narcissa admitted, but not quite what she had expected. Her skin was tanned quite dark and her cheeks were freckled and rosy from the obvious sun of wherever it was she was summering. Her eyes were dark brown almond-shaped, and her face was oval-shaped with cheekbones rather high, likely something she inherited from her mother. Her hair was wildly curly in such a way that reminded her of Bella, when she wanted to actually tame it. This one's hair, though, was silky and shiny, and each curl seemed defined yet loose all at once. Narcissa worried that the Malfoy hair of silvery white would be lost should she produce an heir for her son. Her breasts weren't small, yet weren't big either; her legs were good, though, as were her hips, likely from her Spanish descent. Her shoes were stylish French ballet flats in nude, and at her throat hung—
"Ella Zamora," said Severus, "this is Narcissa Malfoy, and her sister, Bellatrix Lestrange."
"Lovely to meet you," she said with a smile; Narcissa noticed that though her top teeth were rather white and round, her teeth on the bottom were a little crooked. "I actually recognize you, Mrs. Malfoy, from your picture. Draco showed me the photos of your vacation to Marseille when he was seven. I even mentioned how much I admired those chameleon skin gloves you were wearing and a pair of my own showed up a week later on my bed." She laughed a little at herself, possibly nervously. "Draco's very sweet when he wants to be."
Narcissa smiled as best she could, then nodded. "And he gave you…?"
The girl touched the silver locket which hung at her throat with a well-manicured hand. "This? Yes, he did—that awful Umbridge woman took mine in fifth year because it "violated dress codes" or some such nonsense." She was rather expressive when she spoke, not normally a trait of Slytherin girls, to be so…enthusiastic. "Anyway, Draco gave me this to make up for it. I just love it."
Narcissa hadn't even noticed the locket was missing, and she wondered for a moment just how many other things that Draco had taken from her jewelry box. She wanted to vomit at the thought of any of her precious jewelry missing, but maintained composed. Perhaps, she thought, if she's suitable, it could stay in the family after all?
"And what are you doing here, Miss Zamora?" asked Narcissa, setting down her port on the rickety table next to her.
"Oh, well, Meme had an appointment so I thought I'd come and practice my potions for an hour or so while she's gone."
Narcissa crossed her ankles. "Your professor told us you were in France." Zamora nodded in agreement. "And how did you get here? Did you apparate?"
"Oh, no, I used a portkey. There's this chalice in Meme's house she used to use to travel to Plumfield, and from Plumfield I used the Floo."
"And Plumfield is?"
"Our old house," said Zamora with a nonchalant shrug. "Well, my grandfather Archibald's old house. It's sort of sitting unoccupied, just waiting to be used. My grandmother prefers living in Monaco, though, so that's where I spend the summers."
"And your mother doesn't live there? Or your father?"
Zamora shifted uncomfortably, then gave the best smile she could. "My mother died when I was thirteen. My father's since remarried…they live in New York City. My grandmother and father don't exactly get along, you do understand."
"Certainly…" Narcissa put down her port glass. "I'm sorry to hear of your mother." The girl shrugged, swallowing quickly whatever bad feelings there seemed to be.
"It happened when I was at school. I went home for the funeral and arranged it all myself. My mother looked beautiful there in the casket, like she was Sleeping Beauty. I had them use her favorite lipstick and her purple dress. We covered the whole casket with glimmerroses, her favorite flower. I think she would have been happy about it."
Narcissa wasn't sure what to say. Zamora did seem mature for her age, especially considering the small memories she had of her mother were rather insufferable ones. She recalled a snarky little Slytherin girl with slick black hair prancing around the commonroom as if she owned it, stinking up the classrooms with perfumed dragon's blood ink. Severus seemed to sense this awkwardness and spoke up.
"Miss Zamora, if you've come to practice your potions, would you like to show Mrs. Malfoy your skills?" With a wave of Severus's wand and a flick of his wrist, a well-worn red book came floating off the second shelf from the left and opened to a certain page. Zamora took the book in her hands. "I think it's time you tried…this one." Snape pointed to the page on the left with his wand and Zamora's eyes went wide.
"Oh, wow! Really?" she whispered enthusiastically, bouncing up and down on her balls of her feet. "I mean—ahem—" She quickly composed herself and let her face go to a neutral expression. "I suppose it's worth a try, Professor."
Severus turned on his heel to Narcissa and Bellatrix. "Would you care for some entertainment this day?" He threw his hands up in a bit of a questioning shrug, to which the sisters nodded and followed him down to the cellar, where his Potions laboratory was.
It was admittedly appropriate for Severus, to be cramped in a tiny room with blue-colored light, surrounded by phials and phials of potions and jars and jars of ingredients. Quickly and spritely, the girl flicked her wand and wordlessly summoned the ingredients for the potion. She swished-and-flicked her wand at the book to make it float at eye level while she readied the cauldron for work; a flame was lit and she gathered the ingredients.
Oddly, Bella was quiet as she observed. They both soon agreed, as she expertly weighed and measured each and every ingredient down to the last sprinkle of common powdered rue, that the girl knew what she was doing. She looked up at Professor Snape after reading the entire recipe thrice over.
"Any advice words of advice on this one, Professor?"
"Zygumnt Budge," said Severus, whose arms were crossed, "was left-handed." Though it meant nothing to Narcissa and seemed to mean less than nothing to Bella, Zamora smiled with an understanding nod. A light went off in her brown eyes and she quickly went to work. In an unheated cauldron, she mixed frozen ashwinder eggs with ground horseradish and warmed slowly. She then rolled a squill bulb several times with her palm against the cutting board and halved it quickly, which resulted in more juice than Narcissa could ever imagine when she squeezed it over the cauldron. She then cast a charm onto her glass stirrer and mixed vigorously, counter-clockwise; when she removed her hand to chop up the Murtlap growth, the potion was still being stirred, almost too quickly to notice that she'd turned the flame all the way down to a blue glow.
Narcissa leaned to Severus as Zamora worked. "What is she making—?"
"—Shhh," whispered the potions master, his finger at his curled lips, keeping an ever-watchful eye on his protégé.
Narcissa looked back up at Zamora to see her adding in what appeared to be a crushed occamy egg, turning off the heat again. As the mixture cooled, she continued with her measuring, her calculating, and quick judgement of the potion's heat by tapping the backs of her fingernails to the cauldron's surface. A sprinkle of common powdered rue went in and the potion turned colors and sputtered, but then calmed. She stirred again and turned the heat all the way up. With her wand in hand, she made a figure eight and announced "Felixempra!" The potions room lit up with white light, and then a mushroom cloud appeared in white smoke over the cauldron's lip. When the cloud dissipated, Severus stepped up to see the potion. Bella lurked and slithered up on Zamora's other side, and gasped.
"It's—"
"Indeed," said Severus, patting Zamora on the shoulder, who then sighed in relief. "Well done, Miss Zamora. I'd award you points to Slytherin house, but seeing as we aren't at term, I cannot." Severus took a glass ladle and siphoned some of the potion into a glass flask, which was quickly filled with a glimmering molten-gold liquid that didn't spill.
"Felix Felicis!" whispered Bella hungrily as she grabbed for it.
Snape quickly pocketed the potion. "Come, come, now, Bella—this is a student's work and shall remain at Hogwarts." He quirked his brow and looked down his nose at her. "We wouldn't want anyone to know the great Bellatrix Lestrange needed help from a sixteen-year-old girl, would we?" He smiled at Zamora, who smiled back.
"Ella, is it?" Narcissa then said, stepping forward, wringing her gloves in her hand a little nervously. "Do you and your grandmother have plans for supper this evening?"
The student shook her head. "None that I'm aware of, Mrs. Malfoy."
"Come to Malfoy Manor at eight o' clock. I'll make travel arrangements so you can floo there from Plumfield."
As if asking, Zamora looked up at Professor Snape, who then nodded. The girl then looked back to Narcissa and smiled. "I'll run home straight away and ask her." She then looked up to Professor Snape, who gestured her out the door; she turned back to Narcissa gave a quick curtsy, and then walked up the stairs.
Well this one was fun to write! More to come soon!