-Which might cause readers to wonder: Is Sarah White a victim or vixen? The truth may lay somewhere in the middle. Braden Bentley, 26, had this to say: "When I saw her dead body resting in the coffin, I could tell right then that she was a looker. Clear skin, slim body, soft black hair, gifted in the, er, chest area, and—-

"Hurry up! How much longer are you going to make us wait?"

Diana's fingers crumpled the edges of the Daily Prophet, giving a silent prayer that Braden Bentley would encounter a brutal, painful death at the hands of the next girlfriend (or girlfriends) he wronged. While her first impulse was to rip the paper apart like how she felt she was being ripped apart, she knew that it would not be prudent. This stupid newspaper was an important source to understanding this crazy world she found herself in, and it was even more important to hold onto it because technically, she wasn't supposed to have it in the first place.

When Diana arrived for breakfast earlier that day, she saw Lucius and Narcissa hovering over the newspaper with cloudy expressions. The clouds quickly receded to make way for fake smiles and cheer when they saw her, and the paper vanished in a wave of the wand.

Naturally, that set off alarm bells.

After the stilted and awkward meal, Diana hurried back to her room and summoned Dobby, asking him to get her the paper. He said he was forbidden from doing so, but—as Diana quickly learned—when it comes to Dobby, it's always a matter of phrasing the question correctly. He couldn't give her that paper, but apparently it was okay for her to order him to get a new copy of the paper. Diana didn't give him any wizard money and wasn't sure how he was able to procure it, but she wasn't going to ask questions.

"I'll be out in a second, Draco!" she said as she folded the paper and put it in her dresser. Diana was both proud and surprised to see that her voice remained composed despite her inner fury.

It had been a few days since Diana arrived at Malfoy Manor, and—like she expected—the subsequent days were not much better. She had the dubious privilege of getting what Lucius called an 'illustrious educational opportunity befitting a scion of the Malfoy line," which essentially meant that Diana was getting a crash course of eleven years of history, etiquette, public speaking (Diana hated this one), and other subjects that Pureblood children her age were expected to know.

Narcissa was in charge of etiquette, and much to Diana's annoyance, she still couldn't get a read on this woman. She was not cruel to Diana and appeared pleasant and cordial—by far the most charming person in the household—but Diana doubted that Narcissa was as gentle and welcoming as she acted. She married Lucius, after all, and was probably as morally bankrupt as he was.

Unless she was forced into it, she thought as she opened the door. She was met with the scowling face of her brother who, unfortunately, had not seemed to have changed his opinion of her.

Olivia always used to tell her about how annoying brothers could be, and Diana didn't fully understand the struggle until now. Draco was like a persistent mosquito, always coming back to annoy her no matter how many times she tried to deter him. Although he stopped shy of being outwardly aggressive, he would often give a drive-by snarky comment whenever he passed her in the hallway, would find things to criticize about her outfits (which stopped once he found out Narcissa provided a chunk of her new wardrobe) and would often do juvenile antics like 'accidentally' pushing into her. He didn't seem to understand the concept of 'No,' or the concept of personal space, or the concept of tact, or the concept of anything besides his own wants. And it was very clear that Draco was used to getting what he wanted, until Diana showed up and upended his world.

"What are you smirking at?" he demanded, folding his arms.

"I'm thinking about how you'll actually need to be nice for once since your parents are coming with us."

Draco didn't mind letting his distaste for Diana be known—provided his parents weren't within listening distance. Lucius and Narcissa wanted him to be polite to his new sister, but Diana didn't feel comfortable going to either of them to complain about Draco. So for now, she just ignored it. He wasn't the first jerk she met in her life.

"Hmph," Draco said, sticking up his nose as he began to walk down the hallway, "They're not going to be with us all the time when we're there. And they're your parents, too."

Diana bit down the retort that Narcissa was not her mother, and began to follow him. 'There' referred to Diagon Alley, which was apparently where wizard children bought supplies for school. This was going to be their first "family outing," which was something Diana was definitely not looking forward to, and she doubted any of the other members of the Malfoy household felt any differently.

This thought was reinforced when she got closer to the fireplace and saw the stony-faced expressions of Lucius and Narcissa. When they noticed the children getting closer, they immediately smoothed out their expressions to appear more pleasant.

"Excellent. The family's all here," Lucius said, clasping his hands. The slightly condescending way he said 'family' did not go unnoticed. "I trust we're all ready to leave?"

Since her arrival, her father spent most of his time ignoring her, which suited Diana just fine. The few times he would see her, he nodded his head and offered superficial pleasantries that Diana saw through and responded with either one or two word answers, or no response at all. She wasn't going to entertain or play nice with her mother's rapist, and so far he hadn't pressed the issue. Thank God.

"Yes, finally," Draco said, shooting Diana a look of disgust that she ignored. She peered at the fireplace. She learned enough over the past two days that this was one of the ways wizards traveled from place to place. Hopefully it won't be as nauseating as apparating.

"Good," Narcissa said, nodding at Diana. "Now, when we arrive in Diagon Alley, it is incredibly important for all of us to present a unified front and conduct ourselves in the manner we rehearsed yesterday."

Diana felt three pairs of eyes lock onto her and she had to resist rolling her own. How could she forget? They spent almost four hours yesterday going over every possible scenario and how to react.

"Diana, it's likely that during this outing, we'll be accosted by the group the Minister warned you about." The Association for Muggleborn and Muggle Rights. Diana didn't bother to try to hide her smirk, and Lucius's lips tightened. "Have you memorized the appropriate responses?"

Lucius was talking about the list of bullshit platitudes Fudge wrote down for her on the day she met him. Diana vaguely recalled sticking them in one of the desks and never looking at them again. "Yes," she lied.

"Good," Lucius said, though Diana could tell he didn't believe her. "Regardless, there should be no need for you to speak with those degenerates if the procedures reviewed yesterday are followed."

Diana thought this was a good time to bring up the obvious, in one last-ditch effort to avoid this entirely. "I know we went over anything, but with magic, unexpected things can happen, right? Wouldn't it be better if I just…sit this one out and stay home? I'll be fine with whatever….um, wand…you pick out, and whatever else I need."

Although she knew it was futile, Diana wanted to at least try, because that would give her more time to read. Any downtime Diana had now was mostly spent reading, either the Elizabethan history library books that she never returned—and likely never would return—to the Amberton public library, or the books on the shelves of the library in Malfoy Manor.

The library in Malfoy Manor was cold and haughty—a sharp contrast with the warmth and brightness of the Amberton Public Library–yet still managed to give off a familiar aura of nostalgia. Diana had memories of curling up on one of the plush chairs in the kids section of the Amberton Public Library and curling up with a book, reading for hours. She remembered the colorful posters, her favorite being a blue one with a lightbulb and comic book style word art that said: Knowledge is Power. It was a corny poster that would be at home hanging on the walls of a classroom, but the adage proved true: knowledge was power. And Diana quickly realized that the only way she was going to gain any modicum of power was to have knowledge about where the hell she was, and what the hell was happening to her.

The more she read, the more she understood about the culture, history, and logistics of the wizarding world. The first book she read, she understood approximately 10% of what was written. The next time, it was 15%, and so on. As she was perusing through the shelves, Diana noticed that the vast majority of the books were dusty. She believed that the library was mainly for show, which was a relief, because if the Malfoys actually read any of the books or knew what was there, they likely would have removed all the books about wizarding law before she could read them.

"Yes, let's leave her home," Draco said, eyes wide and hopeful.

Lucius looked at Narcissa, and there was a split-second, unspoken conversation between the husband and wife.

"No," Narcissa said firmly. "We'll need to venture out sooner or later. It's unacceptable for people of our stature to skulk in the shadows like some kind of common criminal. We're Malfoys."

Your husband is a common criminal, lady.

"Perfectly said, Narcissa," agreed Lucius, nodding his head.

Diana scoffed inwardly. She noticed Lucius frequently acquiesced to Narcissa, and wondered if he was always this whipped, or if he was trying to get out of the proverbial doghouse for having his affair made public to all of wizarding Britain.

The Malfoys stepped into the fireplace to perform the method of travel that she'd seen way too many times over the past few days. Diana grabbed the clump of Floo powder and—for a split second—considered calling out the name of anyplace else before remembering that she had no one to return home to. Then, she said, clearly but without enthusiasm, "Diagon Alley."


Diana saw pictures of what Diagon Alley looked like in her books, but seeing it in person was an entirely different experience. Much like with the Ministry of Magic, Diana felt herself in awe of the architecture and business of the wizarding world. One thing that was different was that in the Ministry building, no one knew where she was, whereas in the streets of Diagon Alley, everyone seemed to know who she was.

The moment she arrived, she could feel their eyes on her, which quickly diverted away once the rest of the Malfoys arrived. She was told that the Malfoys' influence was impressive, and that was not an exaggeration. Despite the scandal, there was no mockery or derision from any passerbys. Everyone either avoided eye contact with them completely, or gave them polite greetings and tipped their hats.

Everyone except one woman.

The woman in question had braided hair and looked as if she were in her mid-twenties, and was standing next to a newspaper stand. She was holding a stack of flyers in her hands and attempting to talk to the wizards passing her, some of which shot her a cursory glance, but most ignored her. Upon seeing the Malfoys, her mouth opened slightly, eyes widening when locking onto Diana. Then, Diana saw a flash of anger, and the woman started strolling confidently up to them.

Shit.

Lucius verbalized Diana's thought under his breath before him and Narcissa put on their smiling facades. Draco looked between his parents and the woman nervously, paling slightly. As Diana suspected, her brother was all talk and no action.

"Mr. Malfoy," the woman said, a bit louder than necessary. "I suppose the Fates must be at work again. I've been wanting to speak with you."

Lucius's lip curled. "Miss Achebe, I don't believe you're allowed to be out here. Surely you haven't forgotten what happened last time?"

Miss Achebe put one hand on her hip and used the other to gesture to the newspaper stand. "We have a permit now, and can spread the truth without all the bureaucratic paperwork dragging us down."

Diana's eyes drifted to the stand, where she saw various pamphlets and papers with headings like, CHILD SEPARATION IS A CRIME and HOW MANY MORE WILL MALFOY KILL?

Clearly, this was someone from the Association.

Lucius's eyes narrowed as he saw the headings. "It's curious you feel so strongly about the bureaucratic process, considering you seem to be courting it regularly. This is obvious libel, and I will be taking legal action. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Lucius began to walk and the rest of the Malfoys followed, but Miss Achebe quickly moved in front of Diana.

"Hi Diana," she said, eyes much warmer now. "I'm Nia Achebe. Fudge said that you were going to meet with us sometime this month. Is that true, or was it just nonsense to keep up quiet?"

"U-um, it's—"

Diana felt a firm gloved hand grip her shoulder, and Lucius was suddenly behind her, smiling, but with a coldness in his eyes. Diana became keenly aware of the gazes from passersby, who were pretending not to pay attention to the scene but obviously were. Her anxiety began to rise.

"As I was saying, we're currently on our way to a different destination. The purpose of our visit to Diagon Alley was not to speak with you, I'm afraid."

Nia ignored him and remained fixated on Diana. "Can I just have a quick quote, Diana? People are interested in what you have to say."

Diana felt Lucius's grip tighten on her shoulder in warning, and Diana's temper rose. Without thinking, she replied, "Sure."

Nia's eyes gleamed. "Do you feel held down or limited, in any way, by the administrative process and the—"

Nia continued the sentence, but Diana couldn't hear what she said. Her brain was clouded from nerves and she started to feel the familiar feverishness and panic that often accompanied occasions where she was expected to speak publically.

She noticed Nia looking at her with a frown, and realized that Nia was waiting for her to respond. Fuck, what was the question? Something about holding down? Her mind blanked and she blurted out the first thing that came to mind that sounded somewhat deep: "I think that, sometimes, the….um….the very things that hold you down can also carry you up."

Nia squinted and Diana prayed that whatever word vomit came out of her mouth answered the question in some capacity. Lucius, for what it's worth, seemed satisfied and said, "Good day, Miss Achebe," as he steered Diana back towards Narcissa.

The further she moved away from Nia, the closer the feelings of guilt and regret came to the forefront of her mind. Diana knew from the moment she said 'sure' that she wasn't going to say anything publicly that skewered the Malfoys, and only said that to make Lucius sweat a little.

Still, doing anything to make Lucius happy caused her to shudder. Her response was intended to work towards her own goal and benefit herself, not him.

The Malfoys continued to walk silently until Nia was out of listening distance. Then, Lucius said, "That was a surprisingly profound sentiment, Diana. I looked over the prewritten replies Fudge gave to you, and that one certainly wasn't on the list. You were able to come up with that on the spot?"

It's Dumbo. I got that quote from fucking Dumbo. Diana nearly wore out the VHS tape at her house when she was younger and could almost fully remember the movie's script."Yes," she lied.

Pleased, Lucius turned to Narcissa, who was now smiling warmly. "Diana, how would you like a pet?" Narcissa asked.

Diana blinked. Draco turned to look at his parents, stormy-faced. "Why does she get a pet and I don't?" he whined.

Lucius's smile fell and turned to a scowl. "You had your chance with the puffskein. Stop complaining and take some comfort in the fact that Diana was able to reply in an articulate manner and didn't bring disgrace to our family."

She fully planned to 'bring disgrace' to the entire Malfoy family eventually, but knew that doing so now—as an eleven year old child who didn't know magic—would result in failure. She needed to protect herself, first and foremost. "Can I have a cat?"

Narcissa nodded. "Of course. We'll stop off at the pet shop after you and Draco get your wands and books. But first, we have to get the most important item on the list. Do you know what that is?"

Diana didn't remember what the list entailed, and would have assumed wands would be the most important. "Pens and notebooks?" she guessed.

Three sets of eyes stared at her with blank expressions. "I'm talking about uniforms," Narcissa said carefully. "It's a prestigious sign of your admittance into Hogwarts. You and Draco are going to go to Madame Malkins to get your robes. Your father and I will be heading into Flourish and Blott's and Olivander's."

Diana saw Draco smirk at her from the corner of her eye, and Diana felt alarmed. Not because she thought Draco would do anything really bad, but the idea of being alone without an adult in this wizarding world was frightening. As much as she disliked Narcissa and Lucius's 'company, at least they were adults, whereas Draco was someone who thought a lot more than he actually did.

Perhaps sensing her reservation, Narcissa said quietly, "It may not be…prudent, for all of us to travel in one group for the whole duration of our visit here. Your father and I will be speaking to certain individuals, while the two of you get your robes. Remain in the store once you have finished." She shot Draco a sharp look. "We will rejoin you afterwards."

"Stop looking so worried, we're just trying on clothes," Draco muttered to Diana once Lucius and Narcissa left and the siblings started walking again. "It'll be boring. Nothing important ever happens in Madame Malkin's."


Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions lived up to its name. The interior of the store seemed larger than it appeared on the outside, and Diana had no idea where to even begin.

Draco, fortunately, seemed far from a stranger to the shop, and brusquely called over a short, cheerful witch to get Diana fitted for her uniform. The woman–Madame Malkin—seemed friendly enough, but as always, Diana didn't let her guard down and gave short, somewhat-evasive responses while the woman made conversation with her. Madame Malkin clearly knew who her new customers were, but was professional enough not to say anything or even let how she felt show.

After Diana finished, it was Draco's turn. Just as he was about to go up, the bell near the front of the story chimed to signal the arrival of another guest, and the second store clerk started measuring Draco while Madame Malkin hurried to the front of the shop. Draco's eyes glanced towards the entrance, then hardened as he looked at his sister.

"Don't ruin this for me," he hissed.

Diana was genuinely baffled. "Ruin what? Your robes?"

"I'm not talking about these stupid robes!" he whispered forcefully, causing the store clerk to frown as she continued measuring. Draco gestured subtly to a scrawny boy with glasses and messy black hair who was trudging his way towards them alongside Madame Malkin. "That boy's probably our age. Are you really that dense, or do you still not get it?"

Then it clicked, and Diana couldn't help but snort derisively and roll her eyes. She ignored her brother's glowering expression, which quickly smoothed over once the black-haired boy got closer. Over the past couple days, Draco never missed an opportunity to brag to Diana about his upcoming role to 'help forge alliances with other noble families and strengthen the Malfoy name.' At first, Diana took him at his word and assumed Hogwarts would be filled to the brim with miniature politicians, but after seeing Narcissa smile indulgently at him and Lucius's subtle eye roll, Diana realized it was more likely that this was some kind of exaggerated fantasy to prop up his already-hefty sense of self-importance. Perhaps his insistence was born out of some desire to delude himself into believing that their family name hadn't taken a massive hit in the court of public opinion.

"Hullo," Draco said as the boy stood on a stool next to him. "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," said the boy quietly.

"My father's next door buying my books and Mother's up the street looking at wands," he said. Diana was somewhat impressed by how cool and controlled Draco sounded, even though she knew he inwardly felt otherwise. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Dear, sweet Lord….

This is how Draco thought he could win people over?

Diana could see from the expression on the boy's face that this was going poorly. She weighed her options: part of her wanted to watch Draco crash and burn, but the other part actually felt a tiny degree of sympathy for her brother and his complete and utter inability to read the room and navigate social situations. And if Diana, of all people, felt sorry for someone's social inadequacies, then it was a serious situation.

Then again, he's probably not used to dealing with 'commoners.' Which this scrawny boy clearly was.

She made her choice. "You don't see why eleven-year olds having a high-speed tool that can fly them anywhere is a bad thing?" she scoffed. "Really?" The boy turned his surprised green eyes to her, and she addressed him directly: "Just ignore him. That's what I do."

Draco's neutral mask slipped in an instant and he scowled. "It's just a broom, Diana. Gods, you're such an embarrassment. You need to get used to our ways."

"You're new to all this, too?" the boy asked her. 'Too.' So this boy must be Muggleborn. And although he didn't bring himself to ask it, Diana could perceive the question lingering behind in his eye: If she was new to this world, how did she know Draco?

"Yeah," she said. "Draco and I are half-siblings. We have the same father but different mothers. I didn't know I was a witch until a couple weeks ago."

"I didn't know I was a wizard until recently either," he said, seeming to grow a bit more at ease now. "I was raised by Muggles."

Diana saw the look of disgust on Draco's face that the boy–thankfully—seemed to have missed. Draco appeared to lose all interest in the conversation, which was a good thing: Diana was extremely curious to see how this boy's experience was compared to hers.

But how could she phrase it in a way without stirring up bad memories? "Did you have someone from the school show up to talk to your family? What was that like?"

"I did," he nodded. Then, his eyes lit up and his face broke into a smile. Diana was surprised at how much the smile transformed his face. It looked nice; he didn't seem like someone who smiled often. "And it was bloody brilliant. My cousin has a pig's tail now, and it still hasn't been removed!"

Wait, what the fuck?

Draco snickered, and Diana felt a creeping sense of unease with the black-haired boy. She could tell there was this lingering sense of…sadness? Heaviness? A lingering sense of something when she met him. But to find a permanent disfigurement of another child entertaining?

Is this kid a sociopath or something?

Seeing Diana's expression caused a shade of red to cover the pale boy's face. "Th-that's, um, he—he's a cruel, nasty person," the boy rushed to explain. "My aunt and uncle, too. They hated magic, and they hated my parents for having magic, and—"

"Your parents had magic?" Draco interrupted, suddenly looking at the boy with more interest. "Say, what's your surname?"

The boy swallowed and glanced at the door nervously. Diana could tell he was reluctant to answer for whatever reason, which was a feeling she knew quite well given her new legal surname. "Stop grilling him, Draco."

"Stop using words that don't make sense!" he shot back, fingers twitching.

"Now, now," chided Madame Malkin, who was still working on the other boy's outfit. "There's no need for this. Let's all get along. We're almost done here, anyway."

There was a sense of quiet that descended for a few seconds until Draco asked, "Do you know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," mumbled the boy.

'Obviously he doesn't know the houses if he was raised by Muggles, you idiot, ' Diana wanted to say, but didn't, for the sake of keeping the peace while the store clerks were there. "There's four. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and…Slytherin."

She felt ridiculous saying those nonsensical names out loud, but from what she read, the founders were practically deified by wizarding society and taken very seriously.

"How do they decide who goes where?" the boy asked curiously.

That was a somewhat difficult question, and one Diana wasn't able to find a clear answer for. "They're based on personality, I think. Gryffindors are supposed to be brave but reckless, Ravenclaws want more knowledge, Hufflepuffs are kind and loyal—"

"They're brainless followers, that's what they are," sneered Draco. "Gryffindors are dumb, but Hufflepuffs are a different breed of dumb. A Gryffindor would rush in to fight an army of trolls without a plan while a Hufflepuff would try to appeal to appeal to their nonexistent 'better nature.'"

Diana saw Madame Malkin's lips thin and rushed to intervene. "Well, I think Hufflepuff seems like a nice house. And then there's Slytherin. That's the house for…" Diana trailed off, not sure how to finish while remaining relatively objective. Death Eaters—the group that targeted her mum, Julie, and David—were almost entirely composed of Slytherins. But Slytherins also made up the majority of government officials, businessmen, sports players, and enough other occupations in the wizarding world that made Diana uncertain as to whether the house itself was the cause of the degeneracy.

"Accomplished wizards," Draco said proudly. "The ones with cunning and ambition. The ones who go after what they want and take it and don't let anything stop them."

Diana wasn't sure if that was an intentional slight against her mum or not. While he had no qualms picking on her, he generally steered clear of that topic, though she couldn't count out the possibility that he'd stoop that low eventually. "And that's not always a good thing," she snapped.

Draco caught her gaze and looked almost embarrassed for a split second before resuming his characteristic haughtiness and pride. "Ignore her, she doesn't know what she's talking about. I've been raised in this world my whole life, and I know what I'm talking about. Slytherin is the house of greatness. If you're in Slytherin, those Muggles you were talking about earlier wouldn't dare speak against you. It's the house of the powerful, not the powerless."

The scrawny boy's gaze drifted to Draco, looking slightly cautious, but much less wary than earlier. "You make it sound like it's the best one."

"It is," Draco said confidently, smirking slightly at Diana.

Diana opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Malkin's assistant finished up with Draco, allowing the siblings the chance to finally leave.

"See you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said Draco, only allowing himself a brief glance back before leaving through the doors.

"Draco, Narcissa said to stay in the shop and—-" Aaaand, he's gone. Sighing, Diana turned to the black-haired boy. "Thanks for not strangling him with the measuring tape. I know the way he talks to people isn't…normal."

The boy smiled slightly. "I wouldn't know, I've never met any other wizard children besides you two."

She winced. "We're your first impression? Oof. Sorry to hear that."

The boy's smile grew, and a warmth came into his green eyes. "It's alright."

There was a loud, obnoxious knocking on the glass window near the entrance, and Diana saw Draco scowling. She gave a sigh of irritation. "I should go. It was nice meeting you." Even though you might be a sociopath.

"Goodbye," he said, as she hurried to leave.

As she opened the door and left with Draco, she felt a pair of curious green eyes lingering on her as she did.


After finding and reuniting with Narcissa and Lucius fairly quickly—and enduring the expected "we told you to wait!" speech from Narcissa—the siblings headed into Ollivander's to get their wands.

It felt extremely surreal to be standing in a shop looking for a magic wand to purchase, and—not for the first time—Diana felt extremely out of place. The shopkeeper was an old man with piercing eyes who—like Madame Malkin—had enough tact not to say anything, even though he clearly knew who the Malfoys were. After trying several wands, Draco found one that "chose him" and—-eventually—Diana followed. The siblings' wands were both made of Hawthorn wood, though their cores were different. Draco had unicorn's hair, which is what Diana wished she had.

Instead, the wand that worked best with her had something called Thestral's hair. Diana had no idea what the hell a Thestral was, but was able to discern through snippets of conversation that it was a type of horse with a connection to death, and usually resulted in unstable wands. Maybe when I cast a spell, it'll backfire and kill me, she thought hopefully as she ran her finger down the smooth edge. After trying other wands to no avail, her father and stepmother reluctantly concluded that the Hawthorn-and-Thestral-hair wand was the best fit and they were willing to purchase it, though they were frowning as they did.

After that, the Malfoys split up again: Narcissa took Draco to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, while Lucius—much to her disgust—was the one who took her to the Magical Menagerie to buy her pet.

Diana wondered at first why he volunteered when the disdain was mutual, but it soon became clear: He wanted to make a big public show of affection. This was meant to be a calculated PR move that allowed him to play the role of the indulgent father, regardless of her complete lack of enthusiasm or reciprocation. As she perused through the store, looking at the owls, Fire Crabs, toads, ravens, owls, puffskeins, rats, and cats, he periodically showered her with (clearly fake) warmth and affection that would have been amusing to watch if she wasn't the recipient. Instead, she found it insulting, though she noticed with horror out of the corner of her eye that it seemed to be working on at least some wizards, who smiled or nodded subtly. She wanted to throw one of the Fire Crabs at those idiots.

There were, however, some who didn't fall for the fact. The ones who avoided eye contact or the ones whose lips curled downward. The ones who made Diana realize that maybe, just maybe, the wizarding society might be as lost as she thought.

Diana always had a soft spot for animals and was tempted to exploit the "long-lost heiress" role by asking Lucius to buy the whole Menagerie in front of the whole store. Instead, she focused on the cat section and struggled to maintain a composed expression in the face of such cuteness. Traditional witches were always depicted with black cats, so Diana went straight for the opposite: an adorable white kitten with soft blue eyes who was curled up to the side away from the other kittens. When Diana held her finger out and the white kitten nuzzled it with her head, Diana knew that was the one.

As they were leaving the store–cat snuggled in a carrier—Lucius attempted to make small talk. "So, what will you name your new pet?"

The pent-up irritation that was building in her from Lucius's earlier bullshit caused her to have a flash of boldness. "Sarah."

She was willing to put up with the "happy family" facade in public, but despite what she implied to Nia earlier, she was not browbeaten and wanted Lucius to know exactly what she thought of him.

The 'caring father' mask dropped in an instant and he looked at her with such rage that Diana was sure he would have slapped her if they weren't in public. His face was back to his usual composure within an instant. "Absolutely not."

"But why?" she pressed in a light tone, knowing she was pushing boundaries but too inwardly incensed about his faux-affection in the Menagerie to care. "I thought you said it was 'paramount to preserve and respect the memory of this Muggle woman.'"

Diana was echoing one of the most egregious quotes from the newspaper article, where Lucius offered fake sympathy as if he wasn't the man most responsible for ruining Sarah's life.

Lucius's eyes narrowed. "Where did you hear that?"

Diana shrugged. Lucius sighed irritably and said, "I realize you hold ill will towards me, but as the Minister said, I was cleared of all charges. I was acting under the Imperius spell, not of my own free will. In fact, from a certain point of view, I'm almost as much a victim as—"

He stopped his sentence short; even Lucius Malfoy wasn't quite shameless enough to finish that sentence.

"If it's not your fault, then why do you care?" Diana asked, inwardly steamed but trying to keep her tone even.

"It's a blatant insult to my wife."

She clutched the straps of the cat carrier tighter. "Your behavior was an insult to—"

Diana stopped when she saw Draco and Narcissa walking towards them in the streets, Narcissa using her wand to levitate several bags. When she saw the kitten in the cat carrier, a small smile graced her lips, while Draco looked like he swallowed a lemon.

"Why'd you get a white cat?" he complained. "Everyone knows black cats are the proper companion for a witch."

"Draco, shush," scolded Narcissa. She turned to Diana and asked gently, "What's its name?"

She didn't look at Lucius, but could feel his glare of warning on her. She purposely paused for a moment before saying, "...I'm not sure yet."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to decide," she said, gesturing to the bags behind her. "Lucius, shall we return to the manner? I believe we've finished all our shopping and have made a sufficient public impression."

"...Yes, I believe that's for the best," Lucius said, eyes still locked on his daughter.

Given the disparity between Diana's response to Nia and her response to him, Diana knew that Lucius wasn't sure what to make of her yet, and she was fine with that. The less he knew what she was thinking, the better. Knowledge was power, after all, and the last thing Lucius Malfoy needed was more power.


At the same time Diana was looking at the pets in the Menagerie, Harry Potter was deep in thought as he ate his chocolate and raspberry ice-cream with Hagrid, the gameskeeper of Hogwarts and Harry's own personal savior.

He smiled as Hagrid rambled about Gringotts and Quidditch teams and other topics Harry knew little about. The simple act of being in Diagon Alley and listening to Hagrid talk was enough to fill him with a giddy sense of excitement.

Even now, it was hard to believe this was really happening. It was hard to believe that, after ten years of loneliness and misery, someone came to free him from the Dursleys. And not only that, but he found that he was special—-a wizard. And just any wizard, but a wizard who was able to defeat a fearsome dark lord as a baby, and everyone loved him for it.

It was like something out of a storybook, and Harry often caught himself unconsciously pinching or scraping at his skin in order to ensure that no, this was not a dream or some cruel prank of the Dursleys, and yes, he really was the beloved hero of the wizarding world and could do magic.

"What're yeh smilin' about, Harry?"

"I'm just thinking about how wonderful this all is," Harry said truthfully, a bit embarrassed.

But it was true: everything about this world really was wonderful and whimsical. Even the ice cream he was eating was the best dessert he ever tasted in his life.

"Heh," Hagrid chuckled, grinning broadly. "If yeh think this is great, just wait 'till yeh get to Hogwarts!"

Hearing the name of the school filled Harry with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I met two Hogwarts students in Madame Malkin's."

"Did yeh now?" Hagrid said, brows raised. "What'd yeh think of 'em?"

"The boy seemed a bit stuck-up, but after I talked to him a bit, he wasn't as bad as I first thought," Harry said as his thoughts drifted to the pair of siblings. "And there was a girl who was nice, but…" Harry's voice trailed off as his face started to flush.

Hagrid's eyes sparkled with mirth as he wagged his eyebrows. "Oh? A girl?'

"I-it wasn't like that!" Harry insisted, face growing even redder. He shoved a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth in hopes that it would cool him down.

Yes, she was pretty, but that wasn't why he was blushing. He recalled the expression of horror on her face when he laughed about Dudley's pig tail. She probably thinks there's something wrong with me, he thought glumly. Maybe there is.

Was it wrong to take pleasure in Dudley's misfortune? Maybe. But did Harry feel bad about it?

No, not even a smidgen. Even if it was wrong, he couldn't bring himself to care about Dudley and whatever effect that had on Dudley. He remembered the cupboard, the beatings, the taunts, the lack of love. He remembered being five and crying himself to sleep, wondering why his family hated him. He remembered the moment when he accepted that nothing he could do would ever change their feelings, and the numb, aimless existence he had afterwards, which was only broken by the arrival of Hagrid.

He knew the Dursleys would have found it hysterical if Harry was the one with the pig tail. So why shouldn't he feel the same way about Dudley?

The blonde girl didn't know what the Dursleys did to him, how miserable his existence was. She didn't know how it felt to be that powerless.

Powerless…

"Ah, I didn' mean ta tease yeh, Harry," Hagrid said, eyes full of worry. It took Harry a moment to mentally process that Hagrid was worried about him.

"O-oh, it's fine!" Harry rushed to assure him, more careful now of his expression. "I was thinking about something else. You said we're heading out to get my books and cauldron, right? Where are we going to get them?"

Hagrid's eyes lit up as he started telling Harry about Flourish and Blotts, and while the two of them headed down the streets of Diagon Alley, Harry allowed his thoughts to drift back to the conversation in Madame Malkin's. He thought about the four houses and their qualities, and mused over which house he'd like to be in.

The thought of asking Hagrid about them didn't cross his mind; he learned enough in Madame Malkin's. And in a towering yet decrepit mansion across the country, Abraxas Malfoy gazed into his teacup with a pleased expression.

The dominos were beginning to fall.