The final three months of Girl's stay ticked by, bringing with them increasingly frosty mornings. On one of his rare visits, Mr Malfoy gave Girl a long, wool coat. It was nothing special, dark brown in color and probably quite old, something he'd found in a bin of abandoned but still good clothes in a storeroom. Still it was very warm, and in better shape than the cloak Girl's mother had given her years ago.
"It is a bit large for you, but you'll grow into it, I expect," Mr Malfoy had said as Girl rolled the sleeves of her new coat up, nodding her head agreement and smiling openly. She would be leaving in a month—her mother had told her she would work six months for the Malfoys, so Mr Malfoy's implication that Girl would grow into the coat surely meant that she would get to keep the coat!
"Well! There's that smile!" said Mr Malfoy with a chuckle.
Girl had found herself growing so comfortable in her current position that she couldn't help grinning or smiling whenever she gave her reports to Mr Malfoy. Nothing bad had happened to the flock; all of the lambs were still alive, and none of the ewes had gotten sick or injured. Girl had even gotten permission from Mr Malfoy to snare rabbits and hares in the pasture, and he'd confessed himself impressed with how well she managed the skins, which had caused her to blush a furious red that made him laugh.
In truth, Lucius wasn't terribly surprised—clearly, she'd inherited her father's skill as a parchmenter, if not his magic. Her capabilities in the field further proven, and with her new ease as his servant, Lucius began to feel more and more confident about his decision regarding the girl.
Girl didn't have a calendar, but she managed to keep track of the days through her visits from Mr Malfoy and the moon's cycle. It was now November, the month she was to return home. Girl always thought fondly of the rocky outcroppings at the edge of her parents' property, and the little leap of joy she'd always felt when she caught Angelus running towards her from a distance. She didn't fancy the rest of her family though, she knew she ought to be grateful that they'd never thrown her out, being a Squib and all. Perhaps they would send her to another family with animals that needed caring for, giving Girl a chance to see more of the country, and to get away from her parents and older brothers? Maybe Mr Malfoy would ask for her again in the spring.
Girl hoped something interesting would happen, though preferably something where the people mostly left her alone to her Squib-ness, without all the sneering and disgust most witches and wizards held for her kind. She knew Mr Malfoy held contempt for her lack of magic, of course, but so far, he hadn't taunted her with it, nor had he used it as an excuse to do anything especially violent towards her, which Girl couldn't say for her father or brothers.
One afternoon while herding the flock into the cote due the chill outside, Girl caught sight of Mr Malfoy striding purposefully towards her, his long, gray cloak flapping behind him. Hoping to keep him in a good mood, Girl jogged out toward him.
"Is everything in order?" he asked, gesturing at the sheep crowding inside the cote.
Girl nodded. "Yes, sir. Just cold."
"I see. Well, sit down girl; I've something to tell you."
'Sit down' meant that Girl could squat down and rest on her heels without seeming rude to Mr Malfoy. It was a skill she'd perfected over years of not having a chair to sit in while watching slow animals eat through her family's pasture.
"Do you know how long you are meant to stay on my estate?" asked Mr Malfoy.
Girl nodded, replying, "Six months, sir."
"Yes, well—now don't go getting upset—but your six months, which might have been over by now, has been—ah—extended."
Girl could hardly believe her ears; she stared directly at Mr Malfoy and saw he was watching her curiously. Quickly, Girl looked away.
"Now, by 'extended', what I really mean is that this is your home now. Your parents and I have agreed that you shall work for me from now on."
Eyes wide with shock, Girl couldn't help but glance up at him again.
"Well? Have you nothing to say?" asked Mr Malfoy, raising an eyebrow at Girl.
Girl's mouth had gone dry; she swallowed in an attempt to moisten it, but when she tried to respond, no sound came out.
"I understand this may be a shock, but you mustn't worry; your routine won't really change from what it's been these past months."
"I live here, now?" blurted Girl, finally able to speak.
"Yes, you live here now, madam. . ."
"Oh! I'm sorry sir!" she'd forgotten to address him properly. She might've gotten slapped for that!
"'Sir', indeed. I will say that I'm pleased with how well you're taking my news. That being said, I realize this may take some getting used to, that is, the idea that you no longer belong with your parents."
Girl let his words sink in. She wasn't going back. They truly didn't want her anymore. Her mother and father had decided to place her here, with the Malfoys. Instead of living in the barn in her parents' yard, Girl would live in this spacious meadow with the Malfoys' flock in the little hut beside the sheepfold with reliable, twice-weekly deliveries of food, and no brothers or angry father to harass or torment her.
"So," continued Mr Malfoy, "to sweeten the transition, I've brought some things which you may expect with your normal rations."
Mr Malfoy reached into his pockets to pull out a small square tin filled with tea, and second rounder tin of biscuits and offered them to Girl. Girl sometimes made tea with the fresh herbs she foraged, and her mother would leave a cup of sugary tea with a plate of biscuits or a slice of fruitcake on the wall for Girl at Christmas; it certainly wasn't a treat she had very often, and now she was getting them every two weeks!
"I'll let you have milk and sugar as well, if you wish; there's plenty of both at the manor. Would you like that, girl?"
Girl, who was now standing, holding the tins with the tea and biscuits firmly for fear of dropping them, nodded at Mr Malfoy, completely wide-eyed. She had no problem taking milk straight from a cow's teat, but aside from the Christmas biscuits her mother would allow, when was the last time she'd had sugar? Every other Friday, Girl was ecstatic to receive fresh bacon and flavorful dried sausages with each magical delivery, and good bread and cheese, but sugar?
"Very well, then. Now, do I have your word that you won't try running away into the night to go to your parents' house, girl?" added Mr Malfoy, his lips curving into a knowing, satisfied sort of smile. "I would be frightfully angry if you did—but also, I'm not so certain your father would be too happy to see you return—after the decision he's made to have you here."
The reality of her situation came crashing down on Girl once again: her mother and father didn't want her. They'd lived six months without her for the first time, and had found themselves not lacking. In the September of her eleventh year on Earth, Girl had thought her life as her parents' daughter to be over. Now, she realized it had only been half over; her mother and father only needed the final push to toss her aside the way many other wizarding families would already done, but at least Girl would still be in the wizarding world. The alternative was the Muggle world.
"Girl! I asked you a question!"
Mr Malfoy's sharp voice snapped Girl out of her thoughts.
"Do you promise not to run away, then?"
Even if she thought there were a better choice, Girl would have nodded her head in ascent as she did just then."
"Yes, sir—I mean no! I won't run away!"
"Good . . . good. . ."
Mr Malfoy looked Girl over as he appeared to consider something.
"Well, I suppose I should go and register you under the manor! Again, how old are you, girl?"
"Fifteen, sir."
"Hm. . ." Mr Malfoy narrowed his winter-gray eyes a moment; then abruptly, he said to Girl, "Well, if you're going to be a part of my household, we ought to find something better to call you than just 'Girl'! A different one from what you were Christened—a new name for a new life, eh?" And without waiting to see whether his acquired young shepherdess agreed with him or not, Lucius Malfoy swept down the hill in a flourish of his gray cloak and vanished on the spot.