DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, Hogwarts or the wizarding world. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction!
I had never been inside any castle, and certainly not inside Hogwarts. The splendor of the school dazzled me and casted a shadow over my comparatively austere life.
My mother accompanied me to the Headmaster's Tower, a childish gleam in her eyes as she was reminded of the adolescence so rudely interrupted by her unexpected pregnancy. She told me stories of people she often named but whom I'd never met, and of people she rarely mentioned and whose mere memory brought tears to her eyes.
I walked the ancient hallways amazed at how familiar this place seemed to be and at how alien it really was. Suddenly, I felt as nervous as if it was opening night. How was I supposed to find my way to a single classroom or to my dormitories in such an enormous, labyrinthine place?
"The same way you find your way around a theatre's behind the scenes underground passages. You'll be fine, you'll see." My mother smiled.
I had heard a lot of talk about Dumbledore. My family often spoke of him in disdain, but there was always a certain awe of his persona. He was an old man, but he irradiated power and magic. He saluted us in a perfectly cordial, polite way but there was something that betrayed his mistrust towards us.
My mother spoke to him first in humbled tones, then a bit seductive and finally, demanding. The Headmaster and my mother argued about politics, my condition, my work, the war, my uncle and everyone's intentions. At a certain moment, my mother sent me to the hallway. When I returned to the office I was officially a Hogwarts student. My mother had her coat on and was preparing to leave.
"Don't you want to know in which House your daughter will be in, Lucia?" Dumbledore said, holding the famous Sorting Hat, his eyes twinkling.
"Oh, yes," she said, excited. "You will have your own room, love, of course, because of your condition " she told me.
" Yet you need to know with whom you'll be sitting during meals and taking your classes," Dumbledore said as I sat on a chair and the Hat was placed on my head.
"Interesting," said a voice next to my ear just as the world turned black. "So much hidden power and so many secrets."
"Just say Slytherin, please. We all know that's where any Malfoy is going to end up."
"I am not so sure," the Hat said. "You are different from your family, Lavinia Malfoy. You are different from everyone else, in fact.
"I know," I sighed internally. "But everyone will be disappointed in me unless I am sorted into Slytherin. Well maybe it won't make that much of a difference," I added cynically.
"I still think you don't quite fit into any of the Houses. You are ambitious, brave, hard-working and incredibly smart."
"What's going to happen, then? Do we draw straws? Take the name out of a hat, a normal hat?"
The Hat chuckled.
"You shall be in none of the Houses and all at the same time," it announced loudly, and it was quickly removed from my head. Dumbledore was rolling his eyes and sighing.
"Not again " he mumbled.
"You mean this happens often?" my mother said, the surprise in her face probably as noticeable as in mine.
"Every now and then" Dumbledore replied. "You will answer to professor McGonagall as your Head of House, though you are welcome to go to any of the other Heads for things other than administrative duties. You will arrange with her with whom you'll be taking each class, and during meals you can sit wherever you like. You will have a space in your dormitories to receive friends if you like. Any questions?"
"No," I said shyly.
"Your grandmother and I will Apparate to Canada tonight," my mother told me as she embraced me. "So I'll leave you here now."
We said goodbye among tears- this was the first time I was to be apart from my mother. While I relished the idea of independence from her and my grandmother, I couldn't pretend that I wouldn't miss her. Her last gift was a two-way mirror, so that I would be able to speak to her when I so choose while she was in Canada.
Once she left, Dumbledore entered his office again.
"Some house elves are preparing your rooms," he said, "and I left a message for Professor McGonagall. She will come to talk to you soon, I expect. Meanwhile, we have a few minutes for ourselves."
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, remembering Draco's mission suddenly. I liked Dumbledore, I decided. But he had been a fool to take me in.
"You must think me a fool for taking you in," he said, to my great surprise. "I am very much aware of who you are more so than Lord Voldemort."
His eyes scanned me carefully. I didn't answer.
"No shudders?" he asked. I smiled.
"I am an actress, sir. I know the power of words."
"Of course," he smiled. "You are such a special girl, Lavinia. I know all about your powers and about "
"My condition," I said quickly, before he could name it.
"Yes. You must have had a difficult childhood, trying to learn to live despite it."
"Yes, sir," I said, blushing. Life had been so awful back then. But after that, I went into the theatre and it was all so wonderful for a while
"If Voldemort finds out about it, he'd force your destruction," he said carefully.
"That's why he mustn't know," I whispered, and I felt the fear eating me inside.
"There's another choice," he said. "You could help me bring him down."
For a while, there was silence. I looked around. The portraits were all looking at me expectantly. The phoenix on the perch sang three short notes. It sounded like the beginning of 'Who I am', the first song in 'Magically Blonde'.
"What will I have to do?" I asked, determined yet terrified.
"Help me train Harry Potter," he answered. "He'll be the one to face him. Meanwhile, I promise your whole family will be safe."
"All right," I said, weakly, feeling that this was the most significant choice I had ever made. "I'll do it."
"Then, let me welcome you to the Order of the Phoenix."
I spent a comfortable week in the company of the teachers, with whom I spoke to refer them about my various powers and condition, but mostly my abilities. They all said I would still be able to learn something, and I looked forward to the start of classes.
On the first of September, I came down from my dormitories once I saw the firsts students come into the castle. I figured I would be able to blend in with the incoming crowd and sit next to Draco. Surely, my cousin would be nice enough to introduce me to my Slytherin year mates.
I had decided to go down looking like myself, but it wasn't the wisest choice. Many recognized me from the stage, where I too was blonde. I had signed five autographs by the time I sat at the Slytherin table. The younger girls were especially in awe of me, so I sat next to some older kids.
They stared at me. I smiled.
"You are Lavinia Malfoy, aren't you?" one of the girls said. I recognized her as Pansy Parkinson. I had met her once the summer before last, when I had visited my uncle Lucius and was ushered to his study quickly when they realized Draco had guests.
"Yes, I am. You are Pansy, right?" Pansy smiled, not bothering to look sincere.
"I thought she was Lavinia Smith," a blonde girl said, baffled.
"The one and the same, Tracy," Pansy sneered.
"That's my stage name," I explained Tracy. "But my real name is Malfoy. I'm Draco's cousin."
"But he never said!" Tracy exclaimed, excited.
"Of course he didn't," Pansy said sharply.
"You are Lucia Malfoy's daughter, aren't you?" a short, dark haired boy said, and the mood around the table changed.
Not many people know about me, but most purebloods knew that my mother had had a child during her teens.
"That wasn't very polite, Theo," a red-haired girl said.
"You are not my mother, Daphne," he answered.
"Has any of you seen Draco?" I asked, my patience almost gone.
"He said he had something to do," Pansy said in an all-knowing tone.
"Thanks," I mumbled, and got up. I saw a gap in the Gryffindor table and, causing quite the stir and only after signing a few more autographs, I landed there.
"Sorry, I'm saving that sit for someone else," a bushy-haired brunette said. I moved a bit to the left, and made a gap next to me.
"Is that enough?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said. "Thanks."
A group of twelve year olds came to me with bits of parchment and quills, but I still could hear her conversation with the red-haired boy sitting on the other side of the gap I had just made.
"We should have waited for him, Ron," she was saying.
"I'm sure he'll turn up, Hermione," Ron answered. "I bet he's with Hagrid, or something."
"Tonks said she would find him and bring him," a red-haired girl sitting right in front of me said. "I'm sure she will."
"He can't have gotten into trouble already," Ron said. "It's only September."
One of the girls engaged me in conversation, and I couldn't eavesdrop anymore. I had recognized them- The Prophet had told as much as it could about the six teenagers who had battled inside the Department of Mysteries last June. They were Hermione Granger and Ron and Ginny Weasley. I couldn't help but take a particular interest on them- they were, after all, the people who knew Harry Potter the most.
"Sorry, what's your name?" Hermione asked an hour later, after Harry had come back and Dumbledore had finished his speech. Professor McGonagall had ordered all the girls to let me eat in peace.
"My stage name is Lavinia Smith," I said, trying not to scare them with my true identity.
"Stage name?" Harry asked. That was the very first time he looked at me. My heart raced.
No wonder I was nervous. This was the kid I had to train for the slaughter.
Those green eyes, though
"I thought you looked familiar!" Ron exclaimed. "You were on the Daily Prophet, weren't you? Seamus has your picture pinned to his bed curtains."
I felt my cheeks go red, but my metamorph powers kicked in on their own and hid the treacherous color. Harry, Hermione and Ginny silenced him with a look.
"You work in the theatre, don't you?" Hermione asked politely.
"Yeah," I said. "I was home schooled, but I wanted to prepare and sit my exams at Hogwarts. I'll still do functions on weekends, though."
They quickly lost interest in me, and went back to whispering among themselves. But it was fine. Soon enough, I'd have to spend too much time with Harry Potter.
The first week of classes was over incredibly fast.
The teachers were right. I was learning. I soon climbed up to the top of my year, which wasn't really a surprise. The rest of the school was still in awe of me, and more so after the first Transfiguration class, when Professor McGonagall made me demonstrate my power to turn into a white dove. The fact that I was both animagus and metamorphmagus intrigued most, but I knew they were simple outlets I had had to learn to control properly because of my condition. But that was still my secret.
Nobody was able to figure out where my private sleeping quarters were, so I had all the privacy I wanted. I spent most of my free time inside the library, one of the few public places where I could meet other students. I befriended Hermione Granger there. I continued to sit with the trio during meals, though sometimes my fans dragged me to their tables.
On Friday night, I spoke to Draco for the first time since summer holidays. He found me going back to my dormitories after dinner. I had been hoping for an early night.
"I noticed you are not using your real name much, cousin," he said, surprising me.
"I don't think there's much of a point," I said, uncomfortable. "Everyone knows me by my stage name."
"Have you told your new friends?" he sneered.
"Not yet," I admitted. "All in good time."
"Don't forget you are here to help me, Lavinia," he said, serious all of a sudden.
"I haven't."
"You are not here to make friends," he reminded me harshly. "You are here because the Dark Lord asked you to."
There was a noise behind him, as if someone invisible had crashed against an armor. Draco cursed.
"Potter again," he sighed. "Potter under his invisibility cloak."
He had his wand in his hand, but I was quicker. With a simple movement of my hand, a great 'thud!' was heard, and with another, Harry's body reappeared on the floor. Draco stared at me, impressed.
"It was true, then," he whispered. "What my parents said."
"Why would they lie?" I asked, annoyed, and trying to see if Harry was hurt.
"Stimulus to improve my grades?" he shrugged. "What do we do with him? Do you think he heard?"
"Of course he heard," I looked at my cousin. I couldn't believe what I was about to do. "He won't remember anything."
And with another gentle movement of my hands, I erased Harry's memory of the conversation he had just heard. In a few minutes, he would wake up thinking he had simply slipped and fallen on the floor.
Draco's face was solemn, his respect for my abilities renewed.
"I will help you, Draco," I assured him. "You will see."