An Invitation, or

Scorn the Silly Rose-Wreath Now

Chapter 2

"Mummy, was that his mother?"

"Yes, darling, and his father's wife," Dita answered gently.

"Does he—he doesn't want me—does he?"

"Lucius Malfoy is in no position to demand anything. Honestly, darling, he has so much wrong going on in his life right now that I think you are the last thing he is thinking of."

Lucia gave a sigh of relief. "Then what did she want?"

"Tell me what you think."

Relieved of her fear, Lucia took a moment to think and look over the image of the beautiful Lady Malfoy in her mind's eye. "She's scared. She came to you for help! Is someone missing? Did—did someone do something to Lucius? Or to Draco? Coming to you instead of to one of her own people…That's desperate, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Draco left home, and now his mother is afraid something has happened to him."

"Are you going to find him?"

"Of course I am. After the way that poor boy's parents have thoroughly destroyed his life, it's about time he had some better influences."

"Like you?"

"Like both of us, darling. He is your brother, after all. Maybe if I hadn't been so obstinate and allowed you to go Hogwarts, you might have been a good influence on him all along."

Lucia shook her head. "Do you really think he'd have anything to do with me, his Muggle-born half-sister? He'd consider me a disgrace to the whole Malfoy family."

"But the truth is that the Malfoy family is a disgrace to you and to themselves. Being raised as he was is not conducive to happiness, you know. When you try to stake your entire identity on being better than others, you can't trust anyone, you can't make true friends, and the moment someone comes along who is better, your whole world crumbles. That's what's happened to him. He's got nothing left anymore. He needs more help than just finding. His father won't do it. His mother can't do it. It's up to us."

Lucia pressed her lips together, looking, though she didn't know it, suddenly quite like her mother. "I've never understood why you—what you saw in him—in Lucius. You told me who he was, four years ago, when the first owl came, and you've never hidden from me the—the sort of person he is, but why? Why did you…?"

"Because I was an idiot," her mother said bluntly. "I was very young—sixteen years ago he was handsome, romantic, mysterious—and though I didn't know it, it was just after their first war, and the Dark Lord was gone, and he was in the same sort of confusion Draco now is. He was…appealing—romantic. And I was young and stupid—and very pretty, which is the only thing I can attribute his paying attention to a Muggle to. I didn't know he was married and had a little boy, nor what kind of an odd life he lived. I didn't find that out until later—when you started showing strange talents, and I had to find out what was going on. What I found out scared me to death—but you know all that. Thank goodness you were intelligent enough not to make a fuss about not going to Hogwarts."

"After what you told me, I didn't want to. Having my own private tutor was better."

"It was very kind of Professor Dumbledore to send her, wasn't it? He agreed with me that keeping you away from the Malfoys would be the best thing to do. In fact, he seemed to think it would be extremely important. At least it kept you out of that horrible war they had."

"Mum…" Lucia said, twisting her thin, white hands together, "did you ever…regret having me? I mean, being connected to the Malfoys this way…"

"Absolutely not! What I did—my affair with Lucius—it was wrong, but that you came from it I have never regretted. I had no one before you came. Hugh Bonhomme, the dear man who adopted me, died just a year before I met Lucius—and maybe missing him and being so alone was one of the reasons I let myself be carried away by a tall, slender man with long blond hair and grey eyes. But after Lucius disappeared out of my life, I discovered I was pregnant—and I was glad. I wanted you."

"Were you afraid I would end up like him?"

"I didn't know what he was like then," she said sadly. "And I thought, if I only raised you wisely, you would turn out alright. And so you have. And you haven't got all your good qualities from me alone, you know."

"No, I got them from your great-grandfather," Lucia said with a laugh.

Dita laughed with her. "His musical talent, certainly, but not his peculiar temper, his tendency to alienate people, and his propensity to addiction, my dear. But listen. From what I've learned of the Malfoys, there's a sharpness to them, a keenness of intellect, a strength of personality that can be as good as it can bad. They have a propensity for greatness, and they have always been leaders, and when greatness is governed by goodness, it contributes to the welfare of everyone. Greatness and ambition are not things to be feared when they are coupled with wisdom and humility. Do you understand?"

"I don't know—I think so."

"You will, eventually. Now—"

She was interrupted by a scrabbling sound at the kitchen door, a sound which sounded strangely familiar. Lucia sprang up and opened the door, and they both watched, dumbfounded, as a grey owl flew in and landed on the table, depositing there a large envelope clearly marked with the insignia they had seen once before, the Hogwarts coat of arms of eagle, snake, badger, and lion. They watched as the owl stuck its head into Dita's cup of coffee, drank deeply, shook itself, hooted softly, and flew away again.

"But—"

"Strange," Dita murmured. "Narcissa brought up Hogwarts this afternoon, and here we have this."

"Are you going to open it?"

"It's addressed to you."

Lucia opened the heavy envelope and pulled out a familiar letter on familiar, parchment-like letterhead. The last one, four years ago, had named Albus Dumbledore as Headmaster. This one named Minerva McGonagall as Headmistress and was written by her.

Dear Miss Bonnefoy,

Four years ago, Albus Dumbledore informed me of your decision to refuse entry to Hogwarts and of his agreement to this unusual course of action. He has since informed me, by a letter he left behind, of the wise and logical reasons for this.

Now, however, the time has come to once again offer you a place in the school. Our ranks have been much reduced lately, and any student, no matter her age, will be welcomed gladly. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Headmistress

"But we don't have an owl," Lucia said blankly.