Predictably, there was no chatting. The silence that descended upon the room was so thick and full of tension in a way that dwarfed Diana's earlier accusatory outburst against Arthur.
The one who finally broke the silence was Lucius. "Honestly, Arthur. Are there no depths to which you will not sink? Is the Association paying you off so you could adequately feed that litter of yours?"
Arthur flushed in indignation. "Believe it or not, Malfoy, there are some of us in the Ministry who don't compromise our principles every time someone flashes a Galleon."
"And I'm sure it's pure coincidence that you decide to champion this particular cause. Where was your sense of righteous injustice when the Rowle and Dolohov bastards were found?"
"I'm stepping in because I don't want repeats of those tragedies! No one should have to go through what those poor kids did."
"And because I'm a Pureblood with respect for my lineage and culture instead of rejecting everything my ancestors fought for, I must naturally engage in the same behaviors of some of my more unscrupulous peers. Truly, your prejudice knows no bounds."
'My prejudice? Really?"
"Diana." She flinched slightly, not expecting Lucius to address her directly. She looked up tentatively. "While I'm sure this man has already made attempts to sully my name–which seems to, unfortunately, have been successful in your case–I would like to provide you additional context in order to better understand the situation. Arthur Weasley has held an unreasonable grudge against me—"
"I don't have a grudge—"
"—since long before I even met your mother."'Met'? That's a kind way of putting it. Diana clenched her fists from underneath the table. "In fact, I believe it's accurate to say that he was part of the group compiling that case not out of the goodness of his heart, but to get at me specifically. Arthur and I are on opposite ends politically, and I firmly believe that all his attempts to undermine me are merely the result of him wanting to push legislation without opposition—-"
"That's absolutely not—-"
"—-or," Lucius continued, voice raising slightly, "it might be simple envy."
"Envy for what?"
Lucius kept his gaze on Diana while he gestured to Arthur, then back to himself. "As I'm sure you were able to infer, our stations in life are vastly different."
"There's more to life than just money, Malfoy," Arthur said stubbornly. Diana wasn't sure if Arthur noticed the way Lucius clenched over the snake head of the walking stick upon hearing that.
"Yes, but having a substantial amount of money certainly makes life easier, and what parent wouldn't want to make life easy for their child?" Diana thought she detected a twinge of sarcasm in his voice, but wasn't completely sure. "From what I managed to gather, Diana, your home life hasn't been the most desirable. As Cornelius said, the Malfoys are a very wealthy family. We can give you all the luxuries you were denied in childhood."
Before, her eyes kept darting between the two men like watching a ping-pong match, but they now settled on Lucius, who was looking at her with an expression that was obviously meant to appear pleasant, though Diana could tell there was another, darker emotion hiding behind it.
He was obviously expecting a reply, but Diana wasn't sure the best angle to approach this from. Her gut instinct told her to verbally rip him apart for what he did to her mum, but the more pragmatic part that valued self-preservation cautioned against it. Still, she didn't want to give up without a fight.
"I appreciate the offer," she finally said diplomatically, "but it's not really about the money. It's about Mum. I know what Mr. Fudge said before, but you can see how me living with you is a bit…weird, right? Considering what you did." She hurried and continued before he could interrupt. "Even if you were being controlled by the Imperial spell, it still happened. It also, I think—"
"Stop," Lucius ordered, holding his hand in the air. "You will be coming with me to Malfoy Manor. That is non-negotiable. An illegitimate offspring of a wizard and a Muggle is always put with the wizard's family. Isn't that right, Arthur?"
"That's how it's always been decided in the past," Arthur said grudgingly.
"But family doesn't have to mean parent," Diana said, a sudden thought occuring to her. "What if––what if I live with one of your relatives instead?"
She thought it was a good compromise, but neither of the men looked as if it were worthy of consideration. "Unfortunately, all my siblings have passed away. My mother is living in France, and she is unable to return to the country at the present moment. I don't suppose you know how to speak French, so traveling there to attend the native wizarding school would be out of the question."
"What about your father—my granddad?" Is he still alive? Can I live with him?"
For a brief second, both Lucius and Arthur's masks slipped as they looked at her with twin expressions of horror. Guess that's a no.
Lucius, who was the first to compose himself, said, "My father is, unfortunately, very ill and therefore unable to properly…care for a child at this as you see, it is inevitable that you live at Malfoy Manor, our primary ancestral home. While I do agree that the circumstances are…uncomfortable for us both, this is our reality. I plan on making your adjustment to our world and the expectations of the family name a priority. The immediate focus will be on oration, as this seems to be the area of largest need."
"What's oration?"
"It's the ability to speak without seeming constantly addled. Furthermore, you will learn the basic history of both our family lineage and our world as a whole. Narcissa, my wife, will teach you fundamental rules of Pureblood etiquette, as you will be traversing in those circles, even though you yourself are not Pureblood." His lip curled slightly.
This woman's going to hate me…
"Are your wife and son, um, okay with all of this?"
Lucius's eyes flickered. "Narcissa has often expressed a desire for a daughter. My son will soon adjust to having a sister as well."
It did not go unnoticed to Diana that Lucius completely avoided answering the question. "What about pets?" Diana always loved animals and was hoping that there might be something in that Manor that wouldn't make her consistently miserable.
Arthur couldn't restrain himself from answering, trying and failing to keep a straight face. "They have albino peacocks that roam around in their gardens."
"Really? Wow."
"Yes, they're certainly more impressive than the gnomes and ghouls that infect your hovel, Arthur."
Arthur's face flushed again. "Diana, while you're there, also be careful what you touch. Just in case there's any dangerous, cursed objects lying around."
Diana was about to ask Arthur how to identify cursed objects when Lucius snapped back, "Ah, at last we get to the essence of this whole farce. You see, Diana, Mr. Weasley's desire to be the Ministry representative assigned to you is motivated by self-interest, as I mentioned earlier. He's under the impression that my house is brimming with dark artifacts that I'm just waiting to use on unsuspecting Muggles—"
"—or sell, but that's not the reason why—!"
"—and he's hoping that you will report any so-called 'immoral' objects or activities to him. He's using you, my dear, whether you realize it or not. Why else do you think he's going to these lengths in order to 'protect' the offspring of a man he hates?"
Could Arthur be using her? The idea hurt to think about, but her mother did warn her about him, and it wasn't as if any of the other wizards she met were of any great help to her.
Then again, just because he's using her doesn't mean that he couldn't be a valuable ally. If his interests coincided with hers, then did his motivations really matter? She could use him just as he was (possibly) using her.
Besides, my father could just be lying anyway…
Arthur's outraged tones jolted her out of her reverie. "Not everyone sees the world the same way you do, Malfoy! I'm helping Diana because it's the right thing to do. Your feelings on blood purity are clear, and she's a halfblood. And I-I was there…"
Lucius's eyes hardened as clenched the snake head of his walking stick again. "If there's something you'd like to say, Arthur, then say it. Where's that Gryffindor courage?"
"All right, fine." Arthur straightened up and glanced tentatively at Diana before continuing. "You know I was part of the group that helped compile the case against you. I heard the testimony. I'm not going to waste my time arguing on whether or not you were under the Imperius, but one thing I know for a fact is that Sarah White didn't get the justice she deserved."
"Ah," Lucius leaned back with a hint of a smirk, and Diana wished she could slap him. "So that's what this is. You feel guilty about your ineptitude and are now trying to live out your heroic fantasies through my child?"
"It's not a 'fantasy.' A real child's well-being is the reason for concern here." Lucius rolled his eyes, but Arthur plowed on ahead. "But yes, I suppose I do feel guilty. I'm not ashamed to admit that. The whole situation was handled…well, it could have been handled much better, and I want to do better, not just for Sarah's sake, but for the sake of any child who finds themself in this situation."
"Your penchant for drama and misguided self-importance is truly astoun—-"
A loud popping sound interrupted him as Cornelius Fudge appeared out of thin air, beaming and holding…
"You went to get ice cream?" Diana asked, incredulous.
"Ah, I was wondering if they had these in the Muggle world! Good to see we can skip the explanations, then. Apologies for the delay, gentlemen—and the young lady, too, of course—but Florean had some questions for me about the property taxes and, well, you know how these things go." He chuckled.
Lucius's expression was back to the impassive, carefully sculpted mask he wore back when Fudge was previously in the room, and Arthur just looked tired.
Diana saw that Fudge was staring at her expectantly, and shifted uncomfortably. What was he expecting her to say? "Um, that's alright. I'm sure that being in charge of all the….wizards is really tough. Probably works up an appetite."
Fudge blinked. "You think—Oh, no, no." He then threw back his head and gave a hearty laugh. "No, my dear girl. This isn't for me; it's for you." He pushed the cold bowl into her hands as she gazed down at the chocolate, rainbow-sprinkled treat in front of her, trying to process what was happening. "You seemed very glum and uneasy earlier—and that's not a criticism! Not at all. I understand this all might seem quite the big change, and it's only natural to feel a bit anxious. So, I thought to myself, 'Cornelius, what can we do to make this poor girl understand that we only have her best interests at heart?' And then it came to me in an instant—ice cream! I've yet to meet a young child that doesn't enjoy ice cream."
Diana stared at the chocolate as many different thoughts entered her mind, the first and most prominent was fury at Fudge's patronizing attitude. Did he really think that giving her a treat like a toddler would pacify her?
Still, she knew she wouldn't be able to get anywhere without his favor. Reluctantly, Diana took a spoonful and lifted it to her mouth and swallowed. It really was quite good. "Thanks," she mumbled. It was only with great effort that she managed to restrain herself from saying, Good thing I have this chocolate ice cream to eat, otherwise I might forget I'm going to go live with my mum's rapist.
Pleased, Fudge took a seat. "Now, Miss Malfoy, there's a matter we need to discuss. Nothing too bad, mind you, but it concerns a certain group that likes to make waves, and it's my greatest concern that they'll try to—hmmm, how to put this—try to give you an…impression of the Ministry that is not fully accurate."
Diana had a feeling she knew what he was talking about, but wanted to hear him say it. "Are you talking about the Association? I thought they just wanted to help people?"
Fudge shifted in his seat. "The Association for Muggle and Muggleborn rights has quite the misleading name, you know. The Ministry cares very much about Muggle and Muggleborn rights!" Diana forced herself to take another spoonful to stop her from saying what was on the tip of her tongue. "But this group, well, they don't agree, and make their opinions known. Quite loudly. And while they represent a minority opiom, they've become concerningly adept at manipulating public opinion with various tales of woe and perceived injustice. They happen to think your current situation provides the opportunity to challenge many ideas that form the bedrock of our society. The perfect storm, so to speak. And since, well, since you're so very young, we are simply concerned that they will attempt to take advantage of your innocence and twist your words, characterizing your situation as some kind of embodiment of Pureblood elitism and influence over the Ministry."
"How is that characterization inaccurate, exactly?" Diana couldn't help asking, although she knew it was unwise.
Fudge frowned and looked at the chocolate cup. "Lucius Malfoy is a pillar of our community, and Arthur will be checking in monthly to assess your well-being. You certainly won't end up like poor little Lauren Rowle—"
"Linda Rowle," muttered Arthur.
"—and I thought we've already gone over why your concerns are unfounded? Now, enough of that. We're going to discuss what to say if they—or, more accurately, when they—try to reach out to you. They'll probably wait until—-aren't you hungry? You should keep eating. Ice cream always soothes the anxious soul."
Diana looked down at her ice cream, which was starting to melt. She was about to take another bite when a thought occurred to her which made her feel like she was splashed with a bucket of ice water.
"D-did you mess around with this?" She gestured to the cup. She did start to feel weirdly calmer when she started eating.
"E-excuse me?"
Heart beating and thoughts racing, Diana asked, "It took you a long time to get here. D-did you put some kind of magic potion inside it, something that could make me more relaxed or open to suggestion or something?"
Fudge blinked and goosebumps crawled over Diana's skin. Lucius looked at both Fudge and Diana curiously, and Arthur seemed to get very rigid.
"Of-of course not! I know you must feel—"
"Is there any way to prove that it's not?"
"This is absurd!" Fudge sputtered. He looked at Arthur, who was looking at Fudge with an imploring expression. He hesitated, then sighed. "Arthur, if you must…"
Arthur took out his wand, pointed at the ice cream, and said, "Revelio!" Diana held her breath…and nothing happened.
Arthur exhaled a bit and Fudge seemed smugly satisfied. "As you can see, it hasn't been tampered with in any way. It really is just ice cream, Diana."
Diana felt like an idiot, not for the first time today. Her face reddened and she muttered, "Sorry."
"You know, Lucius," Fudge said, turning to him with a strained smile. "That suspicious mindset must be an inherited trait. Abraxas would be proud, if he were here." Lucius's eyelid twitched slightly.
"What did you want me to say to the Muggle Rights group?" Diana asked, trying desperately to bury her paranoid feelings and get the conversation back on track.
"Ah, yes," Fudge said, leaning back in his seat, more at ease. "Now that I hope I've proven my good intentions, I've taken the liberty to provide you with a script to follow, should you encounter any of the rabble-rousers while out and about in Diagon Alley, or within the walls of Hogwarts."
He reached into the briefcase he was carrying and handed a few papers to Diana, who scanned them over quickly. There wasn't much to remember; it listed various situations and the appropriate platitudes, and they all sounded like bullshit. She started to read a few different ones out loud.
"'The Ministry trusts the judgment of the Wizerngamot, and so do I.' 'While I know the background circumstances weren't ideal, the Malfoys have been nothing but generous and helped me acclimatize to the wizarding world.' 'The Ministry has taken the appropriate steps to ensure the safety of all wizarding children, regardless of background.'"
She looked up, aghast. The rest were similarly Orwellian, or worse.
"You can play around a bit with the wording, but those should provide you with a general template on how to answer any unwanted questions," Fudge said happily, hands folded in his lap.
Diana considered asking what would have happened if she simply decided not to do this: If she went up to the Association people and begged them to help, to make it very loud and obvious to that staff and students at Hogwarts that she did not want to be anywhere near the Malfoys, or the wizarding world as a whole. She certainly wanted to do that.
But self-preservation kicked in, as per usual, and assessed her options. It was obvious at this point that the Ministry was dead set on separating her from her grandma and living with the Malfoys. Speaking her mind might grant short-term satisfaction, but what of the long-term? What if they decided to alter her memory or personality to make her more amenable to going to Hogwarts, like what Diana suspected most likely happened to the Muggleborns with uncooperative parents? If she played along, then maybe, once she learned enough about magic herself, she could find some way to escape and fix her grandma's memory. Maybe I'll even be able to get justice for Mum, somehow.
"Okay," she decided. "I think I can do that."
Fudge looked startled for a moment, then he smiled broadly. Arthur looked surprised, while Lucius remained, as usual, expressionless.
"But it might be easy to…forget these lines, if I'm worried about other things," she added.
Fudge's smile faltered. "Have I not addressed all your concerns?"
Diana's heart started to beat a bit quicker. If she played this right, then maybe, just maybe—-"When the people came to take me to the ministry, they erased my grandma's memories. I just…I want her to live comfortably, and not in Amberton. She-she always liked Florida, so I was thinking she could live there and be given enough money somehow so she could just relax and retire and live a good life. A life"—fuck, this is painful—"a life without me, since I won't see her or try to see her since this is going to be my new home."
Voicing it gave the situation a certain finality that made Diana want to crawl up in a ball again, but she tried her best to keep her expression neutral. Fudge drummed his fingers against the table, tilting his head slightly, and Diana started to wonder if she pushed it too far. "She really is your daughter, Lucius! All right, Miss Malfoy, I believe we can find some way to provide your grandmother with your wish. It'll be irregular, but not unprecedented. The Ministry will handle it."
"Thank you," she answered honestly. "I really appreciate it." Now comes the hard part. "My other concern is about my mother's death."
Fudge's smile thinned. "Yes, yes, that was most unfortunate. Very tragic…but haven't I already assured you that proper precautions will be taken to ensure your safety?"
"Yes, and I'm thankful, but I'm also a bit worried about what people are going to be saying about it. I just want my life to be as normal as possible, and if there are all these rumors, then it won't. So I was wondering if I could meet with these Association people and tell them that it was probably just an accident."
The real reason Diana wanted to meet them was to know who her allies were. She didn't want to be blindsided at Diagon Alley—whatever that was—or Hogwarts, and if they could do anything to help her, then she wanted to know.
"I don't believe that's a good idea," Fudge said firmly. "If you wish to express your thoughts, I could arrange a meeting with a writer from the Daily Prophet and they'll publish an article. It's much safer that way. I know their ideas might seem noble to you, but—"
"But you said I was going to meet them anyway, right? You said they'd try to contact me at Hogwarts or that Alley place. This way, I could meet them on my own terms and be prepared."
Fudge drummed his fingers on the table, looking contemplative. Lucius's eyes narrowed. "This idea is absurd. The goal is to discourage contact, not feed into their delusions."
"It could be a show of good faith, Cornelius," Arthur said, stroking his chin in thought. "Contacting the Association would make the whole thing seem a bit more…transparent."
Something flickered in Fudge's eyes; a mental weighing of risks and rewards that was a daily occurrence for a man in his occupation. Seeing this, Lucius scowled and pushed back, "This child, alone with those vultures?They'll twist whatever she says into what they want to hear."
"If a Ministry representative is present, then wouldn't that alleviate some of the concerns," Arthur quickly said to Fudge. "I could be there and—"
"You?" Lucius shot Arthur a venomous glare that would have caused weaker men to cower in the corner. "Cornelius, this is a blatant power-grab. Surely you can see how Arthur is attempting to conspire against me with the help of these Mudb—these people. It's downright insulting."
"Lucius, there may be value in reaching out and establishing contact with the Association on our own terms. As much as I wish it were otherwise, I cannot deny that they will be using this case as some sort of rallying point, especially given the, er, coincidental timing of her mother's unfortunate death. I know them well enough at this point to realize they have the grip of a Norwegian Ridgeback and will not simply let this go once enough time elapses. The more I think about it, the more I'm inclined to agree with the idea." At Lucius's outraged expression, Fudge was quick to clarify: "But of course, it won't just be the Association, Arthur, and Diana! Certainly not."
"I refuse to be present for this farce," Lucius hissed.
"I–I'm aware of that," Fudge said nervously. "I was thinking about having Burgess attend the meeting. I trust that his presence will be more acceptable?"
Lucius was still stewing in his anger, but didn't say anything else, which Fudge took as a sign of encouragement.
"Excellent! So, Miss Malfoy, your two concerns will now be addressed. I take it that's all?"
Diana nodded, still astonished that she managed to get Fudge to give in to both of her 'concerns.' Fudge looked at Lucius and smiled. "Now that everything's been cleared up, you can take Diana back to Malfoy Manor. Arthur, we'll continue discussing the logistics of a few key items. Goodbye, Miss Malfoy."
Diana grabbed her bag and opened her mouth to say goodbye Fudge and Arthur, but before she could, she suddenly felt a cold, firm grip on her forearm, and within an instant, the room vanished.
—-
Through the woozy haze that was characteristic of apparition, Diana noticed that her father had—thankfully—released her. Clearly, he didn't want to touch her for any longer than necessary, which suited Diana just fine.
Looking around, she saw meticulously-trimmed hedges and, sure enough, fucking albino peacocks strutting about, just as Arthur said. There was one peacock that would be within touching-distance if she moved up a few feet, but upon seeing her, the peacock lifted its head and walked away, clearly sensing that the newest addition did not belong. To her right was an ornate fountain with the statue of a diamond woman holding an urn. She looked beautiful, and it was on closer inspection that Diana realized that the woman was moving in gentle, graceful motions, dipping and lifting the urn.
Diana pointed to the statue without thinking. "Is she alive?" she blurted, aghast.
Lucius followed her gaze, then looked coldly back at Diana. "It's magic," he said slowly, as if he believed her to be mentally challenged.
Diana had the impulse to say something, but she wasn't sure what. Now that she was away from Arthur and Fudge, fear and anxiety started slithering through her again, coupled with anger and resentment. Not able to meet his gaze, she turned to look at Malfoy Manor.
It was an impressive yet daunting building, reflecting its age while belying strength. Lucius started walking towards the manor, Diana trailing hesitantly behind. She suddenly started to feel very nervous, as if walking closer to the entrance she was walking closer to the mouth of a beast. Perhaps she was.
Before they approached the doors, Lucius stopped abruptly, causing Diana to narrowly avoid knocking into him. He spun around and assessed her with his icy gaze. "You will be remaining in my custody until your seventeenth birthday, which is the day witches and wizards come of age in our world. While I realize these circumstances are…unexpected, it's entirely possible for this to go relatively smoothly, should your conduct reflect that of a proper Malfoy. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I understand what you're saying." I'm just not agreeing to shit.
Lucius's lips thinned, but he said nothing more as he approached the doors, which opened inward upon his approach.
Crossing through the doors felt like crawling into a dragon's mouth, and Diana suppressed a shudder. The hallway was large and decorative, and the carpet had intricate designs that Diana would have inspected more closely, were she not expected to follow Lucius. There were paintings on the walls of what she assumed were ancestors of the Malfoy family, whose eyes seemed to watch her, until she realized with horror that they were watching her. I'll never get used to this magical world.
Diana and Lucius approached what Diana imagined to be the drawing room, where she saw two individuals: a gorgeous blonde woman with blue eyes wearing what looked like some kind of dark green evening gown. She had a small yet well-practiced smile on her face, which provided a sharp contrast with the scowling, blonde boy beside her who was glaring daggers at Diana from the moment she came into view.
Guess this is my brother. Off to a great start….
Lucius strode over to the two, standing in the middle. "Diana, this is your stepmother Narcissa, and your brother, Draco," Lucius said curtly, gesturing at the two.
Her 'stepmother' nodded. She had calm, congenial eyes, but there was something slightly sharp around the edges. "You may call me Narcissa, Diana. It's a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the Manor."
Of course Diana would call her 'Narcissa.' It shouldn't even require clarification; there was no way in hell she was ever going to call this woman 'mother.' "Hi," she mumbled.
Draco continued to say nothing and looked at Diana as if willing her to spontaneously combust. Lucius looked down at his son and frowned, and cleared his throat loudly.
"...Hello," Draco practically spat.
"Hi," Diana muttered again.
There was a beat of silence, then Lucius said, "Now that introductions are in order, I believe we can move on. Dobby!"
In a flash, a tiny, brown creature dressed in rags with bulging eyes and ears like a bat emerged out of thin air. Diana let out a shriek as her bag fell to the floor with a thud. "W-what's that?" she asked, pointing.
The elf seemed to hunch over and wring its hands. Draco sneered. "It's a house-elf. Don't you know anything about our world?"
Lucius gave his son a light jab with the walking stick, causing Draco to wince slightly. "As I said previously," he hissed through gritted teeth, "she has no prior experience with our ways/world and customs. It's no wonder she's acting like a slack-jawed fool when witnessing something as basic as a house-elf. It's simply an effect of being raised around Muggles."
Diana felt a heat of indignation rise in her. "Well, there are some things I consider myself pretty well-versed in. Like laws, for instance."
Lucius's eyes hardened and his lips curled, but before he could speak, Narcissa clasped her hands together and said sweetly, "Dobby, take Diana's bag to her room, and prepare the table for supper."
"Y-yes Mistress," the house-elf squeaked. Oh my God. It's sentient? Diana suddenly felt awful for her reaction and opened her mouth to apologize, but she could do so, he snapped his fingers and Diana's bag was gone. She suddenly felt very vulnerable without it.
The rest of the Malfoys then started walking to what Diana presumed was the dining room, and Diana was surprised to see a fresh feast of roasted meat, vegetables, and mashed potatoes already placed on the table. The silverware looked expensive, and the meal as a whole looked far more extravagant than anything Diana had ever eaten in her life.
Supper with the Malfoys was an awkward affair. Lucius was seated at the head of the table, with Narcissa on his right side and Draco on his left. Diana was sitting next to Draco, which was both good and bad: good because it put her farther away from Lucius, but bad because she was sitting next to Draco. The food was delicious, but Diana didn't have much of an appetite for obvious reasons. While Lucius and Draco mostly remained silent in the beginning, Narcissa attempted to engage Diana in conversation that she responded to with one-or-two word answers ("How was your first visit to the Ministry of Magic?" "Fine." "Is there a specific clothing style you enjoy?" "Not really." "What are you most interested in studying at Hogwarts?" "I don't know." etc., etc.).
After a certain point Narcissa gave up, and she and Lucius spent the rest of supper discussing some kind of wizarding political drama–besides her own situation—that was happening. Apparently, Lucius had some big news that the Goblins were toying with the idea of using their bank to lend money to vampires and fairies and other nonhuman races, something that Narcissa acted scandalized over and Fudge adamantly did not want. Guess the magical world is just as prejudiced as the human one.
After supper concluded, Narcissa volunteered to walk Diana to her room, which caused Diana's skin to prickle. The two walked through the ornate halls quietly, until they finally got to a wooden door with a carving of a unicorn and rose in it.
"This will be your room, Diana," Narcissa added unnecessarily, gesturing toward the door. "If you need any assistance, call for Dobby and he will be at your beck and call. Later this week, I'll be taking you and Draco to Diagon Alley, where we'll be getting your supplies for the upcoming school year."
"Alright," muttered Diana, grabbing the doorknob.
Narcissa hesitated for a moment, as if debating on whether or not to say something else, but decided on a simple goodbye before turning around in a graceful movement and retreating down the hall.
Diana pushed the door open and blinked. It looked as though it were designed to be the bedroom of a young girl, and Diana wondered if it was made specifically for her, or if it once belonged to someone else. The design of the room served as a soothing contrast to the harshness of the rest of the manor. There was a light purple canopy bed with a soft white carpet and carvings of young maidens and mystical creatures carved into the walls. Unlike the earlier designs, they weren't moving, which caused Diana to feel a twinge of curiosity against her will. Why do some pictures move and not others?
Her bag was perched neatly on the bed. Diana put her hand in to rummage through, finding—-with a growing sense of panic—-that the bag was empty. Upon closer inspection of the room, however, Diana could see the contents were already organized. Her sketchpad and the black book were perched on the windowsill, and some other books were placed neatly on a bookshelf. Diana quickly scurried over to the windowsill and sighed with relief when she saw the picture of her mum and Julie was still there. After opening her closet, she could see that her clothing was ironed and hung up as well. She clutched at the Girl Guides sash that was hanging up and took a few deep breaths, trying to mentally steady herself as the full gravity of what the next six years of her life would be like.
Because everything was packed, she didn't know what else to do and sat on her bed, which was so soft that she wondered if it was magic. She then remembered what Narcissa said about the house elf and felt guilty. "Dobby…?" She asked hesitantly.
Just as before, the elf popped into view most immediately. It was wringing the bottom of its rags with his hands and glancing away nervously. "D-dobby begs the young Mistress to forgive Dobby's horrifying visage, miss. Dobby is here to serve the young Mistress. Anything Mistress Diana requests, Dobby will do. If Mistress Diana wishes for Dobby to wear a mask, he will. If the young Mistress wishes Dobby to close the oven door on his fingers, he will. If—"
Christ, how badly is he normally treated? "I don't want any of those things!" Diana insisted quickly. "I just—I wanted to apologize for reacting the way I did earlier. It was rude of me. I just didn't expect—-um, I've never seen a house elf before."
Dobby's eyes bulged even larger than normal and his mouth gaped like a fish. After a moment of hesitation, he rammed himself into one of the dressers and started opening and closing the drawers on his hands.
"Stop it!" Diana shrieked in alarm.
Dobby immediately stopped and looked at Diana with wide, watery eyes. "Mistress Diana doesn't need to apologize to a wretched inferior like Dobby, no no no. Dobby must punish himself when he acts above his station."
Diana had a difficult time wrapping her head around all this, but a fresh wave of bitterness for the Malfoys swept through her. "I don't want you to do that with me ever." A jot of inspiration hit her. "I order you to never hurt yourself on purpose."
Tears were now leaking out of the little elf's eyes and he said through passionate sobs, "Master Malfoy's the head of the household, miss. His orders take priority over yours, I'm afraid."
Figures. Trying to make Dobby feel more at ease, Diana attempted a joke: "So I guess asking you to smother him while he sleeps is out of the question."
She regretted it almost immediately when Dobby paled and began to look as though he were on the cusp of hyperventilating. "Th-that was a joke."
"Dobby will still have to report this to Master Malfoy, miss," Dobby whimpered.
Oh well…"Um thanks for putting my stuff away. I guess I'll see you around the house sometime."
Dobby's eyes glittered with tears again. "The young mistress is thanking Dobby for doing his duty as a lowly house elf! Truly, she's as kind and gentle as her mother."
Gentle? Yeah, right. I—-wait. Suddenly, it seemed as though everything came to an abrupt halt. "W-wait, did you…did you know my mum?" Then, Diana remembered the description of a small creature that she originally thought might be Flitwick. A creature that would bring food, a creature whose small stature and bulging eyes seemed a lot like…
"Dobby!" Diana's heart started to pick up speed. "You knew that my mum was—-that she was being held captive, didn't you? And remember, I told you not to hit yourself!"
Dobby's attention reluctantly snapped away from the cabinet he was eyeing. His eyes darted in different directions frantically and his whole body was trembling. "D-d-dobby has said t-too much already, young Mistress! It's forbidden!"
"I'm not angry with you, I just need to know more about what happened. It's really, really important to me. Please!"
Dobby paled. "Dobby beseeches the young Mistress for forgiveness, but it's forbidd—"
There was a loud, pounding on the door that caused Diana to jump. Both Diana and Dobby immediately fell silent.
"I'm coming in," demanded the voice from behind the door. Diana groaned inwardly—it was Draco.
Diana wanted, needed more answers, but she knew it wasn't the time. She had—ugh—six more years, so she'd get answers from Dobby at some point—she'd make sure of it. "Go," whispered Diana. Dobby looked up at her with shiny eyes again before vanishing into thin air.
Without waiting for a response, the door swung open and Draco sauntered in with a smirk. This unnerved Diana; he seemed so hateful earlier today and she didn't think this expression was a good sign. He gave the room a quick glance over before looking at Diana with his sharp eyes and crossing his arms.
"Thanks for asking before barging in," Diana muttered.
Confusion flickered on Draco's face for a brief moment before turning into a scowl. "Why should I need to ask? It's my house, and you're not more worthy of inheritance than I am, regardless of what some idiots are saying."
Okay, that's an interesting bit of information. "I never said I was—-"
"The whole reason I came in the first place was because I happened to be passing by on the way to my room. I heard you rambling and begging to yourself like a madwoman and wanted to see it. Father and Mother are taking you on as some kind of charity case, but I know you won't be able to cut it in the Malfoy family. You can't even make it a day without cracking!"
So he heard her voice, but didn't seem to know who she was talking to, or about what. The thought made her slightly less nervous, but a new agitation was starting to flutter instead. "I'm not 'cracking.' I was"—come on Diana, make up something good—-"doing a Muggle thing."
Goddamnit…
Draco squinted. "Like what?"
Diana's mind was racing as it rapidly attempted to weave a bullshit story that seemed semi-plausible, which was difficult since she wasn't sure what Draco specifically heard. "It's, um, it's a Muggle custom when people move into a new house. They yell at the house and ask any ghosts to reveal their wisdom and secrets and stuff. So that's why I was saying 'please' and…um, that's it.."
Just go away, Diana silently begged, growing red in the face.
Draco, oddly, didn't sneer, but instead furrowed his brows and tilted his head slightly. "So they confront any ghosts head-on? I didn't think Muggles could be so…proactive. Hmph. I suppose a broken clock must be right twice a day."
What the fuck? Ghosts are real too? Then, another thought rammed her into a head-on collision and felt like she was plunged into an icy bath: Mum. Is she a ghost now?
Before she could open her mouth to ask more, Draco continued. "We got rid of all the ghosts in the Manor anyway. Hogwarts is going to have ghosts, but if you try to perform this spectacle there, I'll make you regret it. You'll look like a lunatic, which is going to be humiliating for you, but also for me."
"I'll keep it in mind." She decided she'd rather get the information on ghosts from another source than dealing with Draco even more. "So, is that everything, or…?"
That was meant to be Draco's cue to leave, but instead he took it as an invitation to plop himself down on Diana's bed and take another look around.
"Where is everything?" Draco asked, frowning as he scanned the room. "Are you really so poor that this is all you have? That's pathetic."
"I had more," Diana defended, "I just left them at home…my old home, I mean."
He stood up and walked over to the closet, pawing through the outfits. "Guess that's not a surprise after hearing you'd be able to coast along on the family's wealth. Must be real nice, going from living as a Muggle one day to getting your dirty hands in the Malfoy fortune the next."
Diana bristled, but tried not to take the bait. Attempting to sound cool and composed, she said, "I don't care about your stupid fortune. I thought it was obvious earlier today that I'm not happy about being here, but if you're mistaken, then I guess our worlds really are different. And—"
"What's this?" Draco sneered, holding up the sash. Diana's fingers curled into a fist. "It looks hideous. The colors don't even match. If Mother sees this, there's no way it's staying in the closet. I might as well take it and burn it now."
She snatched it out of his hand and put it back on the hanger before slamming the closet door shut, very narrowly missing Draco's hands. His eyes widened slightly.
"If you try it, then you'll regret it," she snapped. "And also, about what you were saying before…my hands are clean, actually. Which is more than some in this household can say."
Draco folded his arms. "Are you talking about Father? He did nothing wrong."
Oh, fuck you. "If you really believe that, then get out. I'm busy and don't have time for this right now."
Diana marched over to the door and opened it, gesturing for Draco to get the hell out. To her annoyance, he remained rooted to the spot, scowling. "The only reason you're acting like this is because you were raised by Muggles. You don't understand the history of our people, and what it truly means to be a wizard. Anyone else would be thrilled to be in your position."
Diana put her hands on her hips and scowled right back. "That's interesting, because some witches and wizards I was talking to earlier said the opposite. They didn't seem to think it was weird that I'd have a hard time living with my mum's rapist."
For the first time, Draco looked slightly rattled, which caused Diana no small amount of satisfaction. "Th-that's not what happened! You're just being fed lies by blood traitors and Mudbloods!"
"Oh, really?" Diana's temper started to flare. "Were you there? I didn't know wizards could time travel." I hope they can't, anyway.
"I don't need to be there!" Draco's face started to flush with anger. "Father's not a bad person. I know what was…said about him, but he's an honorable, respectable man. We're in the Sacred Twenty-Eight, you know: one of the families with the purest bloodlines. There's inherent nobility in the old blood."
Diana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, really 'noble.' This blood test said I'm his kid. I don't know how you could say it didn't happen if I'm living proof that it did."
"Obviously there was some kind of….relation, but it wasn't what you said it was."
"Oh, you mean rape?" Diana asked innocently, enjoying how the word made Draco squirm uncomfortably. "Maybe Muggles and wizards have different definitions then."
"Even if what you say is true, that's his right as a greater being," insisted Draco stubbornly, no longer making eye contact with Diana and instead glaring at one of the wooden carvings on the wall. "You wouldn't expect a cat to let a mouse go because it feels sorry for its prey."
In Diana's cloudy haze of anger, she recognized that Draco was in the unfortunate position of grappling with the fact that the man he apparently idolized for so long committed an act so terrible, and was struggling with how to justify it. She knew whatever she would say now would just fall on deaf ears, so instead, she decided to bring up a thought that's been on her mind since her conversation with Fudge. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter anyway. He says the dark wizards used this mind-control spell on him, right? So if that's true, then it's not like it was his choice to do something so completely heinous."
Diana watched Draco's expression carefully and was not surprised to see a brief flicker of anxiety on his face before he smoothed his expression into an impassive stare that was eerily reminiscent of Lucius's. "That's right," he said flatly.
She suspected the mind control story was bullshit, and Draco's expression reinforced that belief. He likely knew that the story they fed to the public was different from what actually happened; just spending ten minutes with Lucius was enough for anyone to know that was sympathetic to the Death Eaters' cause, let alone someone who actually grew up with him. But it seemed that the news about Sarah was something he was kept in the dark about.
If he didn't know the true depths to which the Death Eaters would sink then may, just maybe there might be hope for him.
Or maybe not, she thought as he forcefully shoved her to the side before stomping out of the room.
After Draco's footsteps were no longer audible, Diana closed the door and sprawled over her bed, exhausted. Six years suddenly seemed like a very, very long time.
