Chapter 2 : Mother, May I?
Terrwyn watched the students mull about the train with limited excitement. The station surrounding the express was far too crowded for her taste and she could already feel her insides churning and her pale skin was wet with perspiration. "There are too many people, Salem. I don't know if I can stand this," she admitted, to her shockingly well-composed twin.
"Teri, just keep calm. Look, Mother's coming back."
Terrwyn scowled. "Yeah, that's real helpful, Salem. She's bringing that pure-blooded nuisance and his bloody sister with her. And look at her, all chummy with their mother. And Father! He's laughing!"
"Mother and Father are allowed to have friends."
"Of course, Salem," she agreed, "but I don't have to like it. And they don't have to drag us into it. Just because Narcissa Malfoy and Bronwyn Eldergoth are all chummy doesn't mean that Draco Malfoy and Terrwyn Eldergoth have to go off and start a club."
Salem chuckled. "I see your point. But I still think you're overreacting."
"Oh, please," she growled, crossing her arms. "Hardly."
By that time, the group was only a few steps away. Bronwyn motioned for her daughter to move towards them. "Terrwyn, this is Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's Mother. Narcissa, dear, this is my daughter, Terrwyn."
Narcissa smiled—it looked fake. "Pleasure, dear. And I see you've already met my son, Draco; did you two hit it off?"
Terrwyn gritted her teeth and prepared for a lie. "Yes, Ma'am, we were really chummy. I think we'll end up bring close friends." Her eyes slid to where Draco stood, bouncing from one leg to the other, nervously.
"Good, good," the Mother Malfoy murmured. Then, from behind her, she pulled out a uniquely dressed girl of about 16. "This," she began, "is my daughter, Lucia." She cleared her throat primly. "As you can see, she's very unique."
The girl, Lucia, rolled her eyes and pulled out of her mother's grasp. "I'm chic, Mother—punk is chic now, especially in America."
Narcissa pursed her lips. "Those Americans are filthy animals—almost all Mudbloods or Squibs, if they're anything but normal humans. It's disgusting."
Lucia rolled her eyes again and stepped towards Terrwyn. "The name's Luci. You look kinda cool. What's your name?" She had a wad of emerald green Bubba Buggles' Big Bubble Chewing Gum in her mouth and she popped a piece on her teeth, loudly. It made her Mother cringe.
Terrwyn stifled her giggle. "My name is Terrwyn Eldergoth. It's a pleasure to meet you, Luci." Then, in an undertone, as she reached to shake Luci's hand, she added. "Call me Teri; oh, and I really like your outfit."
Luci smiled as Terrwyn pulled away. "I think we're going to be best friends, you and I." She turned to her Mother. "I like her, Mom. I think she may be a step towards a bright new future for me."
Narcissa sighed darkly. "Maybe she can teach you how to dress."
Luci refrained from her normal commentary. "Maybe she can."
Narcissa's eyes widened and her hand moved to her heart. Vincent Eldergoth could barely hold in his chuckle at the sight. Bronwyn, on the other hand, looked extremely pleased that Terrwyn had made such a good impression on the Malfoys. It was then that she motioned for Salem to step forward. "Narcissa, this is my son, Salem. He didn't have the pleasure of really conversing with Draco this morning, so I doubt your son said anything about him."
Narcissa nodded once. "It's a pleasure, Salem."
"Likewise, Mrs. Malfoy. I am sure that, this year, I will make an effort to get to know your son and daughter better. I have to admit, though I began going to Hogwarts last year, I never really spoke to either of them. I assure you, it was a folly of mine. I promise to be a less forgetful Slytherin this year."
Narcissa smiled—this time, for real. She turned to Bronwyn. "What a pleasant boy, Bronwyn. I don't know how you do it. Both of your children are so well behaved. It's extraordinary."
Bronwyn smiled in return. "We try our best, Narcissa, dear." Then, the two women excused themselves, intending to catch up on what they'd missed in each others' lives. Vincent approached the teens.
"Salem, Draco, Luci—I expect the three of you to take care of Terrwyn; it's her first time. I want you to give her the grand tour. And I want all of you—even those of you who I did not raise—to be on your best behavior. You represent the future of the Magical Community. Remember your loyalty and make us proud."
As he turned and walked away, Terrwyn watched Draco cringe. Terrwyn felt a pang of sympathy. Both of them knew what loyalties her father had been talking about—loyalties to Voldemort. And she also knew, even though she had only spoke to him once, that both her and Draco were hiding dark secrets from their friends and family. So, despite her better judgment, Terrwyn walked towards Draco and started a conversation. "I think we started off on the wrong foot, Malfoy."
His eyes widened. "Yes, I believe we did."
She cleared her throat, smirking. "My name is Teri."
He matched her smirk, extending his hand. "My name is Draco."
She took his hand and leaned in towards his ear, as if to hug him. "I hate Voldemort; but, I am bound to him—against my will."
His eyes widened as she pulled back. "Me too."
It was moments like these, when Terrwyn was wrapped up in sticky social situations, that a game from her childhood came to mind. Dancing around tough topics, smiling through snide remarks, lying through her teeth—generally, being sweet all the time—it all felt like a long and drawn out game of 'Mother, May I?'
The game was simple. In order to win, you had to ask the 'Mother' or 'Father' to move forward. For example, "Mother, may I come forward 10 steps?" Usually, with a request that big, the parent would decline. For example, "No, but if you hop on one foot, you can come forward five." The point of the game, was to learn that you often had to jump through strange hoops to get where you wanted to go.
Sitting in a coach with her brother, the Malfoys and a group of Slytherins she did not know and mostly didn't like, qualified as one of those hoops. While Draco chatted animatedly with two of the boys—Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, if she remembered correctly—she quickly sized up his harem of serpentine women.
Pansy Parkinson was pug-faced, arrogant, and big-boned—she was also flat-chested, of average intelligence, and short. Millicent Bulstrode was overweight, ugly, big-breasted, obedient, tall—while, at the same time, ridiculously intelligent. Daphne Greengrass was lithe, beautiful, graceful, of medium height, germaphobic, and incredibly stupid. They were tight triangle that encompassed every quality a girl wanted and every quality a girl didn't want. The confident one was arrogant and average; the intelligent one was ugly; the beautiful one was stupid.
In Terrwyn's opinion, none of them were prime examples of Slytherin prowess; and none of them came close to Draco's idea of a woman—or, at least, she assumed they didn't. However, Pansy Parkinson believed herself to be the future Mrs. Draco Malfoy and made no qualms about following Draco around and trying to cement this fact. From what Terrwyn could tell, he had thus far rejected these advances—even though he had, once, taken her to a dance during one of their previous years at Hogwarts.
Daphne looked more like Draco's cousin than his girlfriend and, from what Terrwyn could tell, looked more interested in a boy named Neville Longbottom than in Draco. Pansy yelled at her frequently for this fact. Millicent wasn't really interested in Draco or any other man. She followed Pansy around everywhere, due to a need to be obedient and and out of fear, and was, Terrwyn assumed, the creator of all of Pansy's plans of "Draco Domination."
Because of all this assumption, Terrwyn had to be careful about what she said when talking to these girls. One wrong move, and she was forever shunned in Slytherin House—though she was sure, Luci wouldn't abandon her. She didn't look like the kind of girl that hung out with these idiots, anyway.
"So, Pansy, what area of England are you from?"
Pansy twirled a piece of her pixie-cut onyx hair around her middle finger. "The rich, pure-blooded area," she countered, a smirk forming on her lips.
"My Father owns almost a fifth of Ireland's land mass," Terrwyn bragged, utterly uncomfortable with flaunting her prosperity to these bitches. "He also just bought a magnanimous Manor on the Eastern Coast of England."
Her eyes glittered. "That's nice." She wasn't paying attention . She was concentrated on the dark, comforting drawl of Draco's voice. Terrwyn suppressed a scowl and moved onto another one of the girls.
"Daphne, how old are you?"
"18," she answered.
"And you're only a Sixth year?"
"I've failed my OWLS three times—once in my Fifth year and twice during my Sixth year. When you fail them, you don't have to retake Fifth year. But you have to retake Sixth year if you fail them then. I've retaken Sixth year twice. So I'm eighteen instead of sixteen." She looked extremely confused. Her gaze slid to Millicent. "Is that right, Milly? Did I explain it right?"
Millicent nodded, her boorish face washed out with the nervousness of meeting a new person. Terrwyn felt bad for her. "It's Millicent, right?"
She nodded. "Yes; and you're Terrwyn."
Terrwyn nodded. "You know, Millicent, I love your brooch." It was a coiling dragon around a sprig of Magnolia. It was stunning.
A smile crept onto her face and Terrwyn sucked in a breath. That one little curve of her lips had changed Terrwyn's whole opinion of the girl. She wasn't boorish—she was just unkempt. If someone had only cared a little about her health and her happiness, Millicent would be almost as pretty as Daphne. Alas, she had succumbed to the comforting effects of food and laziness. "My Mother brought it home for me from Japan...before she died. It's the only pretty thing I have." She looked out the window.
"I live with my grandparents and they don't like me...not at all. They think my Father was stupid for marrying a lower-class pure-blood. But they took me in...mostly because they didn't want someone with the name Bulstrode walking around penniless. They buy the plainest clothes, but always the most expensive and they're emotionally empty. They love my half-brother—he was from my father's first marriage. They love Trevor. But they hate me. So I'm never pretty."
Daphne's attention had flitted away. Millicent knew that. That's why she was talking. Terrwyn felt pity choke at her heart. "If you want, Millicent, I can take you shopping one of these weekends. My mother's coming every third weekend to take me shopping; it's Mother/daughter bonding time, she says. But I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you came along."
Millicent shook her head. "My grandparents refused to sign the form that would let me leave Hogwarts grounds."
Terrwyn bit her lip. "How about this—the next time I go shopping, I'll buy a whole new wardrobe for you—makeup, shoes, the works—and it'll be my gift to you, for being so nice to me. How does that sound?"
"My grandparents would be angry at me for taking charity."
"It's a gift; not charity. And if you don't want them to know about it, don't tell them. When you go home for the summer holidays, hide your pretty clothes in your closet—wear them when they're not around. It'll be our little secret."
Millicent's eyes swan with tears. "All right...I guess that would be..." she bit her lip, "that would be nice. Thank you."
Terrwyn patted the bigger girl's knee companionably. "You're welcome." She really like Millicent. Which was really odd. But, just as she was about to restart conversation with her new friend, Pansy's voice cut through the air.
"Oh, Draco! Come sit next to me! I can't stand to watch you from way over here. It's just not natural! Couples sit together on train rides." She pouted. "You're making me awfully sad, Drakie-poo."
Terrwyn watched Draco flinch and turn from his conversation with Theo and Blaise. She hid her snicker beneath a controlled cough. Millicent rolled her eyes in exasperation. And Daphne looked on stupidly, unsure of why everyone else thought it was so funny.
Then, all of a sudden, Draco stood, slunk towards the gaggle of girls, his sister following behind him, laughing at him, and his buddies sliding into the bench across from the girls—next to the lightly snoring Salem—and Draco sat down...right next to Terrwyn. "Pansy, we're not a couple."
"I know the two of you aren't, Draco. I'm not the stupid one. That would be Daphne's position in the group."
Draco scowled. "I meant that you and I aren't a couple, Pansy. Terrwyn has nothing to do with it. I sat over here to get my point across. I'd rather date Terrwyn, who I barely know, than to even think about dating you. I took you to one dance. Get over it. I've taken Daphne to two of them. And yet there she sits, currently not being clingy and annoying."
Pansy wasn't ready to stop. "We're destined to be married."
"No, we're not. I'm free to marry who I choose."
She frowned. "Why are you being so mean?"
He leaned forward, his face reddening with anger. "Why are you being so stupid? I won't date you, I don't like you and I sure as hell won't MARRY you!" Everyone in the room cringed—except for Pansy. She looked like someone had kicked her puppy.
"You're so...you're so...MEAN!" she wailed, ripping open the compartment door, and disappearing from view. Daphne followed behind her obediently, but Millicent stayed behind, looking at Terrwyn with questions in her eyes.
"Aren't you coming?" she asked.
Terrwyn shook her head. "I don't run with that crowd, Milly. I'm going to stay here with my friends." She motioned to the boys, Draco, her brother, and Luci. "You're welcome to join us."
She hesitated for a moment, but habit won out. "Maybe another time. I don't want Pansy to be angry. And, you know, Daphne might get lost. And I so worry about her. She can be so daft, sometimes..." The excuses poured out.
"You don't have to make excuses, Millicent. Just go; but, remember, my offer stands and, in no way, are you bound to Pansy Parkinson. You can be friends with whoever you want to be."
Millicent nodded. "I'll think about it, Terrwyn." She glanced out the open doorway before smiling at Terrwyn. "Thanks." And then she was gone, her two-sizes-too-small duster flapping at her legs.
Quite suddenly, out of the silence, came Draco's laugh. Terrwyn whirled to look at him, as he slung his arm around her shoulders companionably. She didn't shudder. She briefly wondered why; his words cut her musings short. "Wow, Terrwyn, you're amazing!" Blaise and Theo were quick to agree.
She flushed. "Why is that?"
"You just got here and you've managed to rip apart the harem," Blaise explained. "You've got Pansy feeling threatened for the first time in her life and you've got Millicent Bulstrode thinking about leaving the group all together."
"And she's smiling!" Theo cut in, smirking.
Draco nodded. "I've always liked Millicent—a true Slytherin: cunning, intelligent, intensely loyal—pity that she always hid her beauty. But, I have to say, with that smile of hers, there's definitely hope." He squeezed her shoulders. "You're a good influence on Slytherin house, Teri. This is the most comfortable I've ever felt on the Express. How about you guys?" he queried. Blaise and Theo nodded.
Terrwyn shrugged out of Draco's embrace. "I did what comes naturally. Millicent is better than those two idiots. Honestly, I don't know how they ended up in Slytherin. Daphne's as air-headed as a hot-air balloon and Pansy's so full of herself she has no need for cunning or loyalty. She assumes everyone will follow her."
"What house do you think they should be in?" Draco asked, his wild curiousity piqued. She thought for a moment.
"Daphne's a Hufflepuff, most definitely."
"Her sister would have a cow!" Theo chortled.
"Yeah, Austeria would shit herself!" Blaise agreed.
Terrwyn tapped her chin. "As for Pansy, I think that Gryffindor is in order—she's easily wounded, terribly proud, and not-so-bright. She's also blatanly obvious about everything she does."
Draco smirked. "She could fawn over Potter instead of me."
Terrwyn felt a frown tug at her lips. "Ugh, Potter. He's disgusting—arrogant, whiny—utterly pathetic. I don't know why everyone likes him. And that Weasley! He's an absolute dolt—the bottom wrung in his family ladder. The other Weasleys may have a chance in normal society—but not him."
Draco looked at her with awe. "Very inspiring, Terrwyn; and what about Granger?" he asked, urging her to continue.
"She's better than the both of them. In my opinion, she should have been graced with pure blood. The world would be better off with her in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Than we wouldn't have to worry about Potter or Weasley—they'd have no one to do their homework for them or cook up their plans or get them out of trouble. Everyone would know that they're useless—not just those of us with insight." She put up a finger. "You know what? I think the world would be better off even if Hermione stayed the way she is, but just never got stuck in gag-worhty Gryffindor."
Draco's eyes widened. "Granger's a Mudblood."
"I think the prejudice against Mudbloods, especially those with magical talent, is vastly overrated. Magic is magic. If you have it, then you're a wizard or a witch—if you don't, whether you're a pure-blood, mudblood, or a regular muggle then you should be removed from magical society."
They didn't comment on the prejudice comment. Draco merely replied with: "There would be no more need for Hufflepuff House."
"Or most of Gryffindor," Theo added.
"Or some of Slytherin," Blaise admitted. "Daphne would be out, so would Pansy, and some of the boys too, I'm afraid."
"The magical community would run more smoothly," Terrwyn added.
Draco nodded slowly. "No more war."
Terrwyn leaned into his ear. "No more death."
Terrwyn thought she saw a tear shimmer in his right eye. But it was gone quickly as he rubbed at them. "Yeah...no more death."
There's the renovated second chapter of "Incandescent Melody". I think I might change the title later. I'm not sure yet.
R&R