Mr Malfoy had apparated us all to Malfoy Manor. I observed the grounds that contained beautiful albino peacocks (which seemed much more tame than Aunt Marge's bulldogs) and decorated with expensive garden furniture that seemed otherworldly. There was even a small maze with a pristine, white victorian gazebo in the middle. I longed to see what it was like to have an afternoon tea inside of it.
Alas, Aunt Petunia would've turned green with envy if she had seen the Malfoy's home.
"Well, Potter, welcome to Malfoy Manor." muttered Draco.
"It's so lavish." I breathe, and Mr Malfoy chuckles.
"Yes, well. We purebloods are used to having nothing less than what's best."
"I can see that..."
"Shall we take this inside?" Asked Theodore, his hand gently brushing against mine. His action wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I can't help but smile at him slightly before we follow the Malfoys into their abode.
Once inside, we are greeted by a house elf treated not unlike Dobby and anger quickly replaced the hint of happiness I was previously feeling.
Unlike Hermione, I was not blind. I knew house elves needed the magic of their masters to live. That's why they couldn't stay free for long, and that's why they wouldn't take days off or be paid. Having their master's magic guaranteed that they would continue to stay alive and having a roof over their heads, having something to do was enough for them.
They thrive off helping people.
However, did they have to be treated so awfully by the Malfoys? Wasn't it embarrassing for them to see their house being represented by sad house elves dressed in pathetic rags? Even Dudley's old clothes would make better garments for them!
I bite my tongue though, sensing that perhaps now wasn't a good time to get into a row about how a family treated their servants. Instead, I plaster on a smile which probably looked quite fake when we are greeted by Draco's mother.
"Lucius, darling, I see you've brought home another guest." Mrs Malfoy smiles at me so beautifully that I couldn't help but wonder why someone who showed this amount of kind, politeness was married to the patriarch that had escorted us and had a son as atrocious and belittling as Draco.
"This is Miss Potter, although I suppose we should refer to you as Miss Stark now, shouldn't we?" Mr Malfoy asks me and I shake my head in response before quietly replying. "Either referral is fine, sir. However, I suspect Miss Potter may be easiest for us all."
"Very well."
"Would Miss Potter like to join myself and Heir Parkinson in the tea room? I suspect you three may have things to talk about privately and the pair of us would love to get to know the Wizarding World's golden girl." I inwardly cringe at the title and feel thankful that Mr Malfoy rejects her request on my behalf, explaining that he and the two boys beside him need me to explain a few things to them.
Though, out of politeness, I do bow my head at her before Theodore pulls me down the hall beside the grand staircase the blonde and noir haired mother stood on. She gives me another smile as we all leave, except this time I can see the confusion in it rather than kindness.
~
"Sit down, Miss Potter."
I follow Mr Malfoy's instructions, graciously sinking into the black leather armchair next to Theodore's. Ever since reading the results of my blood test, I can't help but feel drawn to him.
It felt silly in one way, as if I was letting fate decide what my life should be like, rather than following my own heart.
But, what if this is your heart speaking? A small voice in my head argues, but before I can engage with it, Mr Malfoy asks me to elaborate on what I had implied whilst we were in Gringrotts.
I take a deep breath before starting, "As you all know, its a known fact that I defeated Voldemort as a baby."
Draco sneers, "Must you brag about everything we already know?"
I couldn't help but smirk at the blonde ferret. Meanwhile, Mr Malfoy seems impressed that I had said the name without any loathing or fear in my voice. Theodore, on the other hand, had paled slightly. I mentally filed this response away for later.
"But you don't know everything." I say in a slight teasing manner.
"Which is why we are having this conversation." Mr Malfoy reminds us. "Miss Potter, please continue."
"Very well. I'll put it bluntly for those of you who don't already know," because I know that the senior Malfoy already knew from his response to the words I had said in the bank. Still, perhaps he wanted to hear it from me verbally.
"I did not defeat the Dark Lord as a baby, my Mother did. Oh, and Voldemort is not back. He is dead."
Everyone is silent for a moment and I can't help but wonder if I had accidentally stopped time, until Theodore speaks first.
"So, that's why you were put under the Imperius Curse. Why you're under it, even now." He realises and I watch as his perfect, dark eyebrows furrow. "Except I can't understand why you're able to tell us this if they're trying to get you to convince wizarding Britain the opposite..."
"Because Sirius never verbally demanded me not to tell anyone Voldemort wasn't back either. He only demanded that I say nothing of what happened that night of the third task."
"Which brings us to a problem," Draco interrupts with a frown. "You can't tell us anything else involving the truth."
I couldn't help but smile slightly, looking down at my intertwined hands that sat upon my lap. "Did you know that the sorting hat wanted me to be in Slytherin? He even told me after my first year that Gryffindor was still the wrong house for me. I reflected on those words and believed them once I had been entered into the tournament."
I had been anticipating the looks of surprise on their faces, doing my best to hold in my laughter at their reaction. Draco was the last one to recover, spluttering, "You? In Slytherin? That's ridiculous! You're the only person I know at school who has a hero complex!"
"I do not," I bristle, my eyes narrowing. I did not have a hero complex. I have a kind heart, there's a difference.
"Yes, you do."
"THAT IS DUMBLEDORE, NOT ME!" I shriek, pouncing from my seat and whipping my wand at him with a shaking hand. I could feel the tears build up behind my green eyes.
If only I wasn't the girl who lived. If only I hadn't been soldiered into a good little Gryffindor. Why couldn't anyone see me for me?
I ignored the look of shock on Draco's face at my outburst, not even flinching when Mr Malfoy practically unsheathes his wand from his cane and sticks it against my neck threateningly.
"Get away from my son, Miss Potter."
"That's Lady Potter to you, Mr Malfoy." I grit out from between my teeth. "Lady Peverall, if you prefer to use something less Gryffindor-like."
"Put the wand away, Uncle." I hear Theodore hiss from behind me. I don't bother lowering my own. There are lethal and docile snakes in the world, and right now, I am in the den of the poisonous ones.
I lick my lips, my grip on my wand tightening as a particular spell danced on my tongue, begging to be used.
"Malfoy, I suggest you shut up before I do something I won't regret. Mr Malfoy, I suggest you do the same and lower your wand as your nephew has most kindly asked."
"Are you threatening me?" Mr Malfoy breathes out in anger.
I chuckle darkly, "No. I'm promising you."
I was so done with being told who I am or should be. I am Mariana Dahlia Potter-Stark, and it was about time that this Lady of Two Most Ancient and Noble Houses started throwing away other people's opinions and followed her own.
