Narcissa Malfoy took another sip of tea from her favourite piece of 16th century china and placed it back on the saucer. It was a classic blue and white porcelain with an elegant willow pattern. She believed that such things were not meant to only be looked at but enjoyed and paraded with pride. She had designated this Sunday afternoon to have tea with Lady Crabbe and Lady Goyle at her home.
Draco was spending the afternoon at the Nott residence. He had decided to become friendlier towards Theodore Nott, the heir to the Nott family. She was pleased.
Belladonna Crabbe took a big slurp of her tea and said, "So Narcissa, I heard that Lucius has become more involved with the school's board of governors. Is this true?"
Narcissa smiled sweetly, "Well, since our darling son has started Hogwarts, Lucius has taken an interest in his education. He's concerned about the amount of power that Dumbledore has over young people."
Belladonna shrugged, "Hopefully he can make an improvement to the school system. They can never teach my son properly and they never teach anything useful anyway."
'Because you and your son are too dimwitted to see how important learning anything, especially magic, is but your family still takes pride in being pureblood,' Narcissa thought cattily, but a sweet smile remained on her face.
Suddenly, Thomasina Goyle accidentally knocked over one of the cups. It fell to the floor with a smash. Narcissa cringed, breaking porcelain was quite embarrassing in pureblood high society but neither woman had enough social grace to make sure this didn't happen or feel ashamed of doing so.
"Oops!" Thomasina lamented, "I've been a bit clumsy lately."
With a swish of her wand, Narcissa repaired the cup and placed it back onto the table. Another swish made the tea stain in the rug disappear.
Narcissa was only friendly towards to two women for one real reason: their sons were friends with young Draco. Narcissa would have preferred that their son was friends with boys who were of a higher intellectual calibre but at least they were purebloods. Both women were as dull as flobberworms and as a result, were usually shunned by the rest of pureblood society including her other, more interesting, friends.
"I wish my husband would take an interest in our son," Thomasina continued, like nothing had ever happened, with a touch of lament in her voice, "but so far after our fourteen years of marriage his only interests are still firewhisky and more firewhisky."
It was no secret that Thomasina hated her husband and wanted to get rid of him. It wasn't a surprise and Narcissa didn't blame her; the man was an awful alcoholic. He would physically beat and hex his family often. It was only the fear of Azkaban that prevented her from killing him – she knew she wasn't clever enough to murder him and get away with it.
"That is a real shame," Narcissa said curtly, "Now, is anyone interested in some cake?"
A smile came to both of the women's faces. They both ate like pigs and had no shame in it.
"Dobby!" She said sternly. House elves were like children, you had to be stern with them.
Dobby apparated into the room with a crack and bowed, "What shall it be, Lady Malfoy?"
"Cake. I want some chocolate pie."
Dobby cowered, "But we don't have any more, young master ate the last of it this morning."
Narcissa flushed, it was improper for the House of Malfoy to be lacking in anything, "Then get some! Punish yourself when you're finished! I demand nothing less than excellent service!"
Dobby whimpered and looked up at her with his bright green eyes. He had long since given up pleading with them, but the elf he knew that she still felt uncomfortable when looking into his sad eyes.
When the chocolate pie came, they took pleasure in enjoying that and other treats as well as the latest gossip about Annabella Macnair and her supposed muggle lover.
That was until her husband came home.
With a crack in the fireplace, Lucius stormed into the living room and with a wave of his wand, exploded a vase. Narcissa's guests screamed. Shards of glass had been blasted all over the room. It was lucky they were not hurt.
"Lucius!" She screamed, "What is wrong with you?"
"Lady Crabbe, Lady Goyle –" he greeted the women while brushing back his blond hair, "Thank you for being guests in this house for the afternoon but I insist that it is time you both leave."
Both of them headed towards the door with smug looks on their faces. Narcissa grimaced, she had no doubt that they both took pleasure in thinking that their marriage wasn't as good as it seemed. She wished there was time to wash their memories – the last thing she needed was the upper class wizarding society to think that she and her husband had a troubled relationship.
The moment they were out of the door Narcissa turned to her husband again, "Tell me."
"I think Dumbledore knows," Lucius whispered, "About my mother."
"Dear Lucius," She said, "Dumbledore knows a great many things but I don't think he could possibly know about that. Not even your closest friends have ever figured it out. It was your mother's deathbed confession."
"No, he told Ducksworth 'many who call themselves purebloods can find a muggle ancestry somewhere in the family tree'"
Narcissa let out a laugh, her husband was aggravated by the most menial of things.
"The comment was directed at me! I'm sure of it!"
Unlike many women in pureblood society, Narcissa did love her husband. Lucius was good with money and was a loyal man. He was better than many husbands she knew of. He was not a drunkard or an illicit potions user. Nor did he abuse his family. He did have two major flaws though; he was quick to anger and held an easily wounded pride.
It had only been six months since their world had been turned upside down. Both she and her husband were the only people there when his mother had lost her battle with magically incurable leukaemia. In her final moments of life, Anne Malfoy admitted that most of her life had been a lie and that she was actually a muggle born witch from Australia. Abraxas met her during a holiday to the faraway country. Anne and Abraxas had lied to wizarding society and their son for the entire span of their marriage. Narcissa and Lucius were still dealing with the aftermath of the shock. Lucius' life had been a lie but she had decided to stick by him.
"Sweetheart," She said softly, "I think you may be over-reacting. Don't worry about it. Even if it comes out as rumour, I doubt anyone in their right mind would believe it."
"Dumbledore would," Lucius lamented, "As well as anyone who wants to undermining my interests. He needs to be eliminated and I have a good idea of how to do it."
"Oh really? How are you going to do that?"Narcissa inquired, although she felt concerned that her husband was becoming increasingly paranoid.
"The diary. I'll find some way to get it into the school. With the chamber of secrets reopened, we can portray Dumbledore – and Hagrid – as a danger to the school in the eyes of the board of governors."
"Are you sure?" She said with raised eyebrows, "Your former master entrusted you to keep it safe."
"It doesn't look like he's coming back anytime soon though. It will possess the owner to reopen the Chamber of Secrets. Sure, some mudbloods might get hurt in the process but that's not unexpected. All we need to do is find someone to take the book into the school."
"Well, you're not having our precious Draco touch that thing," Narcissa snapped.
"Of course not." Lucius said, "I would never do that to our son. Besides, it would give us away. The boy must obviously know nothing."
"What about the prostitute's brat?" Narcissa suggested, "Our son complains about him all the time."
Lucius began to smile, "Harry Evans? A hit on Dumbledore's golden boy sounds perfect but I doubt we could get that close without being noticed."
"Or what about the blood traitor family he has befriended? We can plant it on a Weasley brat and claim it as a charitable donation to the poor."
They both laughed happily, as if it was merely a funny joke.
"I'm glad I married you," Lucius said, moving closer towards his wife.
Narcissa leaned forward to kiss him, "You should be. You're a lucky man to have me. I'll leave you to unwind from the day. I'll pick up Draco this afternoon. The elf can cook turkey."
Narcissa left the room with a sly smile still on her face. Lucius dropped himself onto a luxurious leather armchair and began to read the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.
Hiding invisibly behind the leather arm chair, Dobby was frozen in horror. Surely he knew that the family he served for could be cruel, but unleashing a monster to kill muggleborn students at Hogwarts was nothing short of evil. He was forbidden from talking about what they were conspiring – the house elf code prevented that – but he had to do something. If the Malfoys ever found out that he had spoken to Dumbledore he would be a dead elf but he could save Harry Evans. He was the young wizard the Malfoys hated almost as much as Dumbledore. He could make sure Harry Evans not to go to school this year. It was all he could do.
"Owls!" He heard Uncle Vernon howl, "I thought I saw an owl!"
"Dad, the last time you thought you an owl it was really just a fat pigeon."
"Darling," Aunt Petunia said while finishing the last preparations on her large pudding, "Calm down, we don't want the Masons to think there is anything abnormal about the boy."
"Harry will be staying upstairs while the Masons are here. They won't know he exists."
Harry rolled his eyes. It was normal for them to talk about him as if he did not exist. Usually he would not care, but today was his birthday. He was feeling incredibly lonely. He had received no cards or presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. It seemed as though his friends had abandoned him as he had received no letters over the holidays. The Dursleys were too busy preparing for a fancy dinner with the Masons who were potential business partners for Uncle Vernon. And they still had not forgiven him for the 'magic word' prank.
His Uncle pulled him closer and whispered in his ear, "Not a word boy. If I hear one peep from you, you'll be sorry. Now get upstairs."
"Yes Uncle." He said, although he was actually quite glad about not having to attend the dinner. He would rather spend the night reading or playing a game one of Dudley's borrowed Gameboys.
Harry walked upstairs to his room in silence. He couldn't wait to go back to Hogwarts. He wanted to know why his friends had stopped writing to him.
There was also another reason why he wanted to go back: he had been plagued by disturbing dreams and flashbacks. They had started from the moment he returned to Privet Drive and happened without any warning or obvious reason. The flashbacks consisted of the same faces or objects coming into his mind and in the same order: a black leather diary, a wizard with a stern face and long platinum blond hair, a girl lying unconscious on a wet floor, Professor Snape with a worried expression and a phoenix flying with a sword in its claws. Sometimes he would get the sensation of something cold slithering on his skin, like a snake, and shudder. The dreams were worse. He couldn't remember them well, but he still ended up waking in a state of shock. Something had gone wrong, or will go wrong. It was only a matter of time before he would find out. The longer he stayed here, the worse the feeling of foreboding got.
It was worse for Hedwig. The Dursleys wouldn't allow him to let her out, so she had to stay in her cage and could only let her fly around his room late at night. Staying here was torture for both of them.
He opened up his bedroom door to find a short shrunken figure jumping on his bed. The creature had large, bright green eyes, a pencil-like nose and long, bat-like pointed ears. It wore what looked like a dirty old pillowcase.
"What are you?" were the first words to come out of Harry's mouth.
"Harry Evans," The creature said in a high pitched voice then bowed, "It is the greatest honour to meet you. Dobby is a house elf."
"What are you doing here?"
"Harry Evans is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Evans, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later... Harry Evans must not go back to Hogwarts."
Harry gave a puzzled look, "What do you mean 'must not go back to Hogwarts'?"
The elf gave a pained expression, "I – cannot - say…"
Dobby turned towards his wardrobe and started hitting his head against it. Harry was stunned.
"Stop!" Harry whispered in frustration, "You're making too much noise! My Uncle will hear you!"
"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"
Harry grabbed the elf by the hand and pulled him away from the wardrobe.
"Dobby has to punish himself. Dobby is not allowed to talk about his masters behind their backs." The elf said with misery. "Harry Evans should just accept that he should not return to school."
Harry heard Uncle Vernon's heavy footsteps on the stairs. He quickly pushed Dobby into the wardrobe.
Uncle Vernon swung his bedroom door open, his face was contorted in anger, "What the devil are you doing boy?"
"Nothing. I was just having trouble finding one of my books. It's on top of the wardrobe but I can't get to it."
"I don't care," Uncle Vernon whispered in rage, "The Masons are here, so be quiet if you know what is good for you."
"Ok, Uncle. I'm sorry."
Uncle Vernon raised a chubby finger, "You will be if you do anything like this again."
He closed the door to Harry's door and walked back downstairs. When he thought it was safe to do so, Harry opened the door to let Dobby out of the wardrobe. The elf took in a huge gasp of air.
"Please stop," Harry said, "Don't hurt yourself. I won't ask you things you can't answer. I can try to help you."
"Harry must not return to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," Dobby repeated, "Dobby thought that Harry would not be interested in going back to school since his friends had not been writing to him."
"I can't stay here… wait," Harry stopped, "How do you know that my friends have not been writing to me?"
The elf's ears lowered, as if guilty. The elf took out a package of what looked like letters.
Harry snatched them out of the elf's hand, "Give me those! How dare you take my mail? I thought all of my friends had abandoned me."
"Abandoned is better than dead." The elf said, before he clenched his fist and continued to hit himself in the head. He had said too much.
Harry looked around the room, when he glanced at his desk he got an idea.
"Can you draw?" Harry suggested and picked up a spare notebook and a quill from his desk, "You won't be telling me anything. Not really."
Dobby stopped hitting himself and thought for a minute, "Dobby is allowed to draw pictures."
"Here," Harry exclaimed as he put the notebook and quill on the floor with the ink beside it, "Draw whatever you like."
Dobby took no hesitation in doing so; he grabbed the quill and sketched as fast as he could. Dobby used up three pages. When he was finished, Harry looked at the images and squinted in confusion. The drawings were child-like but clear. There was one of what looked like a book and a stick figure with long hair. Another page had nothing except a series of rings drawn into a big black circle. The last page had what appeared to be a long line that went the whole page. The last two drawings didn't seem to make much sense. He did wonder if the book and the stick figure represented the diary and the unconscious girl. He hoped not.
"Thank you, Dobby," Harry said, he did ask what the drawings meant or say that he could not stay with the Dursleys.
Dobby smiled, "Harry Evans is most kind."
"Just promise me you won't be stealing my mail anymore."
'Caw! Tap. Tap. Caw!'
The crow was at his window, clutching a letter in one of its claws. It had to be – without a doubt - the same crow as the one that had delivered his Christmas presents.
"Dobby must go. Dobby hopes Harry Evans will help him more in the future."
Before Harry could say 'goodbye', Dobby had disappeared. Harry opened his window to allow the crow in and took the parchment from its claw. It was his school supply list for second year. Whoever owned the crow had taken the effort to send his school list themselves. Maybe they knew that he hadn't been receiving mail. He was not surprised by the prospect of someone spying on him, but it did disturb him. Even if it was possibly for his own protection. He preferred to think that his gift giver was just a charitable person.
The crow pecked him before flying away again. He closed the window and drew the curtain across, not wanting the crow to come back.
He decided to spend some time reading the mail Dobby had hidden from him.
Harry could hear his aunt's forced laughter from downstairs as he looked at the cards and letters Ron and Hermione had tried to send him. Suddenly his birthday didn't seem so bad.
A/N: Reviews, follows and Favs are always appreciated. What do you think of the story so far? (or how could it be better?) I'm not adding slash or anything like that (not yet at least ;), Harry is 12).