AN: Mrs Skinner has asked me to tell you all how baffled she was by all the positive response this story has garnered. She never expected to get so many reviews and is absolutely ecstatic! She wanted me to tell you all that she is very happy you like her story so much and for taking the time to write all those wonderful reviews.
She hopes you'll like the rest of the story just as much as you've enjoyed the beginning and is looking forward to reading your responses as we go along.
As translator, I'd like to add my own modest thanks for the nice response you've given this story: even though I'm merely translating it, it gives me much joy to read how much you like it.
Thank you all and please stay with us for the remainder of the story! For now, here's the next installment.
Beauty and the Beast by Mrs Skinner
Translation by SnapeSeraphin
Chapter 5 Linus Manley
Flashback
After leaving the courtroom in his new, horrendous form with his head held high, in spite of the surging laughter, the accusing fingers pointed at him and some booing, he had wanted only one thing: to get away from this place that had only brought him shame and disgrace. As fast as he could, he departed. He had left several streets behind him, checking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed by anyone before he slumped against the closest wall, breathing heavily. His heart was thumping, his thoughts whirled through his head and his stomach felt as it was about to turn inside-out, contents and all.
Cold sweat was beading on his forehead, but he only noticed it when it dripped into his eyes, stinging. His normally so sharp and analytical mind told him that he must be having a panic attack for the first time in his life. For the first time since he could think, he had no idea what to do, could hardly comprehend what had just happened to him. He needed some time to determine what to do and where to go. He had lost his ability to do magic, which meant he couldn't even leave this hated place, where he had suffered such degradation. Malfoy Manor wasn't an option. He couldn't and wouldn't return to his mansion; not looking like this, not after what happened. Not to mention the fact that he couldn't even lift the wards surrounding his home, since he was no longer a wizard.
He pondered what to do now. His life, as he knew and loved it, was irrevocably over: he had become the laughing stock of the entire wizarding world. Everybody would point at him and whisper about him behind his back. Even worse, they would maybe show their disdain to his face, like earlier in court: no one had ever dared do that before.
What bothered him most, was that he had been discredited: nobody would want to do business with him anymore, nobody would take him seriously and certainly nobody would be intimidated, like before, when he walked with his head held high, dressed in expensive robes, with a proud countenance into the thick of the action.
Lastly, he became painfully aware of the fact that he had lost his family. There was nobody left whom he cared about or needed to take care of: he had failed in all respects. It left only one possible conclusion: he had to drastically change his life, leave the wizarding world, at least for as long as it would take him to regain his previous looks if nothing else. He was already suffering unspeakably. He couldn't even bring himself to look down on his own body and carefully hid the long, spidery fingers in the pockets of his robe.
First order of business was to get the hell away; he didn't want to run into anybody he knew. He wasn't capable of dealing with malice or even ridicule at the moment. For the first time in his life, he was on the side of those whom he used to look down on with biting sarcasm and limitless arrogance: the losers. He hated it with a passion and it hadn't even been one hour since he had been forced to change sides.
This is how he dragged himself through the streets, keeping to the shadows and making sure that his face was hidden in the folds of his hood at all times. His limp annoyed him to no end and it took him a while to find a semi-smooth rhythm. He didn't know how long he had been walking, but when he looked around and saw the neglect and dirt all around him, he concluded he must have gotten to the seedy neighbourhoods of London.
He scanned his surroundings and discovered a dark entryway; he dragged his body over there. He needed a moment to think and most of all to rest a little. Never before had he ever walked this far. He sat down next to some boxes and other junk, not caring that there was a nauseating smell and there were rats running around, quarrelling amongst themselves for the only available food. He was more confused than he had ever been in his life. Sighing, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall behind him. Just sit here for a moment, to clear your mind and rest, he told himself. But his thoughts kept going around in circles. Well, at least Dumbledore had left him his brilliant mind. He looked at the problem from left and right, up and down for a considerable amount of time, formulated some plans, discarded most of them out of hand and after endless considering and reconsidering, interrupted by having to shoo away a couple of impudent rats who tried to gnaw on his shoes, he knew roughly what he was going to do.
He had decided to rigorously put an end to his previous life: Lucius Malfoy would simply disappear in the confusion after the Dark Lord's death. He would do what nobody would expect of the aristocratic, arrogant former wizard: he would turn his back on the wizarding world and live in the Muggle world. Not forever, he didn't want to be that extreme at this point in time, but at least until he succeeded in breaking the curse. He didn't question the fact that he could make a living doing business in the Muggle world, despite his current, rather untrustworthy appearance. The Muggles were so primitive, he would simple short-change someone or other – just like he did for years in the wizarding world – create dependencies and make himself a new life, far away from magic. His stomach clenched painfully. He missed the gentle, soft, ever-present humming inside of him, which had signified the presence of magic at his disposal. Again and again, he listened inside himself, hoping against hope that it had returned, but it didn't. In the years to come he would catch himself regularly just sitting there and focusing on the core of his being, but there was nothing there. He was empty, as hollow as an empty vat of whiskey. All magic had disappeared, forever. He would have to get used to this, one way or the other, to make do without magic and that would be very hard. He had been rather proficient in wandless magic and hadn't needed his wand in most cases.
He sighed softly once more and got to his feet. Making sure that the rose which he had cautiously stowed in the inside pocket of his robes was still there, he started on his way: he had a plan and exhibiting the usual, Malfoy stubbornness he pursued it.
In the years to come, Lucius had to conclude that his original plan to settle in the Muggle world and go about his usual business wasn't feasible. He had obviously underestimated these Muggles.
After he had retrieved some money from various hiding spots and exchanged it for Muggle currency against horrendous interest rates on the black market, he tried to go to the few business partners he had in Muggle London. But they wanted to have nothing to do with this less than trust-inspiring man, whom they treated with suspicion. Time and again, his business ventures failed when the Muggles met Malfoy, got spooked by his appearance and rescinded their offers. He tried to do business by way of a middle man and keep to the shadows himself, but even that failed. It almost seemed as if there was also a curse on his attempts to create a new life, or rather a new identity for himself. One deal after the other went belly-up and Malfoy's Muggle money was steadily dwindling.
At some point, he had to concede that he was virtually penniless. Again an unforeseen hopelessness and resignation seized Malfoy; he had never failed at anything in his life. These setbacks had as a consequence that he retreated back into himself even more, being at odds with his fate. He grew increasingly melancholy and, very unusual for him, extremely depressed. He only sporadically paid attention to his personal hygiene these days and stopped caring about the state his clothes were in altogether. The only thing he looked after almost lovingly, was the rose. He took painstaking care that she always had enough clean water and guarded her like life itself.
The years passed without anything noteworthy happening in the life of Lucius Malfoy. After a while he could no longer afford the rent of his cheap and uncomfortable room in a sleazy hotel. As a rule, he had to secretly disappear in the dead of night because he owed somebody some money or because he had cheated the landlord or some of the other guests.
Every once in a while he stooped to do some physical work, but usually he made himself a little money with small swindles. In spite of it all, he kept his distance to the magical world. Because of his petty crimes though, he was forced to change his whereabouts regularly. At some point in time, he ended up in the vicinity of Thornhill.
He heard about the abandoned mansion in the forest near Thornhill by chance and he took this one-time opportunity to have housing that he didn't even have to pay rent for. So he settled down in the abandoned manor. From then on, people saw an ugly, hunchbacked figure moving through the woods, spreading fear among them. Lucius hadn't intended for this to happen, but he didn't mind; it allowed him his peace. He was, on the contrary, rather happy that he didn't have to meet anybody. He kept away from the roads through the forest and only left its leafy safety to commit the petty crimes that afforded him a small income.
He lived quite peacefully like that until more than four years of Dumbledore's curse had passed. He had never forgotten the timeframe he had been given, but had likewise never had the opportunity to do anything to improve his situation. There was nobody in the new life of Lucius Malfoy; there was no one who could possibly have given him affection and of course he wouldn't find anybody willing to grant him the gift of unconditional love. He had all but resigned himself to his unalterable appearance. Just as he had resigned himself to the fact that he would have to live in the Muggle world forever, living the life of a social misfit and outcast. And then, of all people, he ran into Hermione Granger.
He almost didn't recognize her when he had met her again in the forest a couple of days ago. She looked vaguely familiar, yes, but he would have bet he had met her once in his new, ever-changing life. The moment she told him who she was, he had been so shocked that he had almost given himself away. Fortunately there was still enough of Lucius Malfoy's self-control left in him that he at least had been able to give her a fictitious name in the spur of the moment. He wondered though what the female part of the golden trio, of all people, was doing here so far away from the Wizarding world. She didn't appear to be aware of his sentence and apparently hadn't recognized him. He fled as fast as he could, despite his injuries.
Arriving in his dwelling, the first thing he did was produce some makeshift-bandages for his wounds, then fell onto his equally makeshift-bed and sighed. He briefly considered leaving and disappearing as soon as possible, but the last bit of Malfoy-pride left in him had told him not to go. After all, nothing happened really and after her terrible ordeal in the forest, she would surely never go back there, he reasoned.
Too bad he didn't take Hermione Granger's stubbornness into account. She did go back into the woods, despite her reservations and had the audacity to look for him and, even worse, actually find him or rather his abode. Of course, she also wouldn't be kept from entering an abandoned house; she invaded his territory and didn't even seem intimidated by his dismissive demeanour.
She ignored his rather strenuous demands that she leave the house, followed him calmly into his makeshift-bedroom and in spite of his attempts to resist, started to take care of his wounds. He didn't know which he hated more: her intrusive solicitude, or the fact that she was exactly the sort of person he wished would never discover his true identity.
He could still see her on the battlefield, bent over the bodies of her parents. What would Hermione Granger say if she found out that the man she was caring for so diligently, was partially responsible for the death of her parents? What would she do if she found out that the man she knew as Linus Manley, was the same man who had stood by as she was being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, doing nothing whatsoever to stop her? Would she curse him with an Unforgivable? No, she was much too virtuous to ever do something like that, he decided as he submitted to Hermione's efforts. In all probability, she would turn her face away from him in disgust, but not before spitting him in the face.
Tbc...