Eira remembered the day she first met Sirius; the weather was not unlike it was at present – grey, wet, and chilly. She had been leaving the dance academy, hurrying along the busy London street in her dance tights and leotard, covered up with a heavy coat. She had been up since five in the morning, as she was every morning, to train all day for her first major dance role. She was to be Odette, the beautiful, tragic swan; it was a role she had dreamed of since she was a child, and thus Eira wanted to be nothing but perfect.

She had been going over a sequence in the music when she noticed two peculiar-looking men stood near a delipidated old building. One was tall and skinny, wearing a boxy, moth-eaten suit, and the other was an exceptionally handsome, curly-haired man wearing a velvet dinner jacket and pin-striped trousers. As she neared them, she caught the end of what sounded like a very unusual conversation—

"…must be this way, Remus. The chap in Knockturn Alley said to turn left at the top of the street here."

"Shouldn't we just ask—"

"You can't go around asking Muggles odd questions!"

"It's not an odd question, Sirius!" Remus argued.

Eira glanced at them curiously, briefly catching Sirius's eye. He held her gaze for a moment and smiled at her. Eira looked away quickly, more perplexed that a complete and odd stranger had smiled at her in London.

"I think we should just ask," Remus insisted, now speaking in a lower voice.

"Fine," Sirius abruptly moved away from his friend and stepped in Eira's path, startling her a great deal more. Had it been dark, Eira would have probably hit him, particularly as he looked a fair bit older than herself. She held her stance cautiously as Sirius engaged with her, speaking in a friendly tone, "I'm so sorry, miss. Could you please direct us to Highgate Cemetery?"

Eira, still slightly alarmed by the sudden confrontation, looked at him blankly for a moment. "Uh… it's quite a distance. You should probably take the Northern line."

"How do we go about that?"

Eira gave them brief instructions to find the correct station. Sirius thanked her, shaking his long head of curls as he laughed at his and his friend's blunder.

"Thank you very much. We are not from around here, as you can probably tell," Sirius smiled. His eyes were soft and warm, slowly putting Eira at ease. She smiled a little in return and shrugged. They then both parted and went their separate ways, leaving Eira to wonder why two men were looking to visit a notoriously haunted cemetery close to nightfall.

Eira presently felt like something of a ghost as she was forced to follow Narcissa Malfoy along in the rain, drenched to the skin in her white wedding dress. August was swiftly coming to an end and Autumn was pushing its way through. Though Narcissa did not object to her husband's request, she privately felt incited at being left with the Muggle girl. She was determined to despise her and had not yet spoken a single word to her. Eira looked at Mrs Malfoy apprehensively as she strutted along ahead of her.

"I know of a shop that will sell appropriate clothing for you," Narcissa said without looking at her. Narcissa did not like the idea of buying Eira brand new clothes, but she would rather be struck dead than be seen entering a second-hand clothing shop. Thus, she led her onto Diagon Alley and into a little shop named Glinda Sisters Dress Shop which sold a variety of clothing from robes to socks, stockings, dresses, shoes, and accessories. Narcissa did not waste time looking at any of the clothing herself, but simply walked up the counter and rang the bell for the shop assistant, who appeared at once.

"I need three plain dresses for this girl," she explained as the assistant greeted her. "She'll also need a pair of boots, a set of undergarments, and socks."

The shop assistant, who was a plump, cheery red-faced woman standing a mere three feet in height, nodded eagerly. A quill had magically been writing Narcissa's order on a piece of parchment.

"I will return shortly. See that she is fitted in one of the new dresses and discard the one she is wearing."

Eira started at this, horrified. "This is my wedding dress and I'm keeping it!"

"Well then, you can wash it yourself," Narcissa sneered. Without another word she sauntered out of the shop, hips swaying, and left Eira with the small woman, who had already started bustling about in search of the plainest dresses she could find.

Eira watched silently. Normally she would have been interested in shopping on Diagon Alley, but it felt a great deal different in such dire circumstances. Across the cobbled road was the café her and Sirius liked to eat in whenever they visited the area. Only a few weeks ago they'd been shopping, and he'd bought her a tarot deck with moving pictures on the cards. Muggle or not, divination was one of Eira's fine points and she had amused Sirius and his friends with her apparent fortune-telling skills. She tried hard to remember if she had drawn a card that foresaw this catastrophe in their future.

Within fifteen minutes the shop assistant had procured three dresses in very dull, muted colours. Eira's first thought was that she would look like a Pilgrim. They were modest, calf-length dresses with buttons all the way up the front, identical except for being three separate colours – grey, taupe, and calico. They each had long sleeves that buttoned at the wrists.

"Try these dresses on," the little woman said eagerly as if she was imploring Eira to try on a beautiful ballgown.

Eira frowned and shuffled away to the changing area, which was in a small alcove hidden behind a heavy velvet curtain. With great difficulty, she removed her wet wedding dress and took care to drape it over the top of the curtain. She was soaked to her skin with rain and shivered more as she picked up one of the ugly dresses; the shop was cold in this corner and as Eira had had to take off her brassiere (as it too was soaked) she felt the chill more severely. She rubbed her bare arms, hunched up while she struggled to unbutton the dress to try it on.

"What is taking so long?" Narcissa, without any warning, threw back the curtain. Eira jumped and let out a small cry of surprise, covering herself. "Why aren't you done yet?"

Narcissa had all the other articles of clothing in her arms and stepped into the alcove, pulling the curtain shut behind her with no mind for Eira's mortification. Eira kept her arms across her chest, staring at her, flushed. "I only just…"

"Just put something on, will you?" she snapped impatiently. She turned Eira around roughly, wrestled her arms down, and forced a poorly fitting brassiere onto her. It was, like everything else, plain and void of any adornment. She was then fitted into a plain white slip made of cotton, and finally the awful dress, which itched and irritated her skin. It also fitted badly, hanging loose around her waist. Narcissa then gave her a pair of thick woolen socks that reached below the knee, and a pair of brown leather boots, which though initially didn't fit suddenly shrunk down to the size of Eira's small feet.

Eira frowned at herself in the mirror. This morning she had looked beautiful and radiant, adorned in flowers and wispy white lace. Now she felt ugly, her beauty obscured in a dress at least two sizes too big for her. However, for as unattractive as Eira felt, Narcissa had not achieved the goal in making her look ugly, a truth which greatly disappointed Mrs Malfoy.

"That will have to do," Narcissa muttered, gathering up the other pieces of clothing. Eira collected her wedding dress and shoes, along with the other wet clothing she had discarded, holding them close while Narcissa went to pay at the counter and have her purchases wrapped up. Lucius had apparently returned with Narcissa, as he was already standing by the door, looking bored. Eira watched the shop assistant idly.

A numbness suddenly seemed to creep over her body; her skin felt hot, and her vision began to spin as she was undoubtedly overcome with the reality of her situation. Sirius has been arrested, she thought. I am alone. Her ears buzzed and she felt suddenly lightheaded and sick; Eira didn't know if it was due to the early stages of pregnancy or her sudden shock, but she felt herself slipping away as she leaned against a display of gloves, felt the floor moving under her feet, the room swaying, blurring, until it finally all went black.

The feeling of falling felt like the moment Odette threw herself into the lake, and likewise, Eira was disturbed by an icy cold awakening. She felt dazed and oddly blissful laying on the shop floor with a breeze fanning her face until a foul smell was introduced under her nose. Narcissa was holding a small vial under Eira's nose. She moaned softly and turned her head away, annoyed at being disturbed from her sleep, for that is what she momentarily believed was happening. Lucius was standing beside Eira on the other side, talking to his wife, but his voice sounded distant in Eira's head.

"Sit her up," the little shop assistant said as she brought in a cold glass of water.

Narcissa eased Eira into a sitting position between her knees, forcing her head up as the shop assistant gently tipped the cold water into Eira's mouth.

Eira now remembered where she was and opened her eyes. She saw the friendly face of the small woman looking at her, and Lucius towering above, watching intently. He looked rather annoyed.

"Have you not eaten today?" the little woman asked.

"I…" Eira blinked a few times until everything came into focus.

"Poor dear," the woman continued, urging Eira to sip some more water. "Here, have some chocolate," she pulled out a large bar of chocolate and broke off a piece, which Eira took politely. She didn't feel like eating at all and merely nibbled at it.

"We must get her home at once," Lucius said to his wife.

"Stand up," Narcissa gripped Eira under the arms and carefully pulled her to her feet. Eira only felt dizzier and stumbled forward, grasping hold of Lucius's coat to steady herself. Lucius drew back instinctively, frowning at her pale hands on the lapels of his coat, but then remembered he was being observed, took hold, and steadied her with a curt smile on his thin lips. Eira felt sick again but had the presence of mind to pick up her damp wedding clothes and shoes before she was walked out of the shop.

"How shall we get home with her, Lucius?" Eira distantly heard Narcissa asking. She was holding Narcissa's arm now, stumbling along the cobbled street.

Mr Malfoy took something out of his coat, which Eira couldn't quite see, and withdrew his wand. Narcissa forced Eira's hand out to touch the object, which she now saw was a crystal, and in an instant, realised with awful apprehension what was about to happen.

"No—" Eira started to moan.

She felt as if she was fainting again, only this time fully conscious somehow and everything was spinning much faster. She had done this once before with Sirius and had sworn she would never do it again after she'd vomited all over his shoes. He told her to shut her eyes next time and she would soon get used to traveling by Portkey. She forgot his advice in this instance, having had no forewarning, and thus was violently sick the second she arrived with the Malfoys inside Malfoy Manor.

Lucius and Narcissa both cried out in anger and disgust, quickly stepping back as Eira threw up her breakfast on the polished oak floor. Fortunately, the family house-elf, Dobby, was anxiously awaiting his master's arrival and was fast to clean up the mess with magic.

Eira began to cry, finally feeling she'd had enough of everything. Hunched over and trembling, she took no notice of her surroundings, which were much different from the warmth of the cosy cottage she lived in with Sirius. This house was dark, cold, and foreboding.

"Stop your sniveling and stand up," Lucius ordered impatiently. "Dobby, take her upstairs to the spare servant room in the attic. She can rest for the night."

"Yes, Master, of course, Master," Dobby answered in a nervous, squeaky rush.

Dobby never wasted time in taking orders and proceeded to help Eira stand up, taking her hand in his scrawny hand. Eira had never seen a house-elf before and was slightly taken aback by Dobby. She had heard of Sirius talk of Kreacher, the elf who served his family, but as they had no business visiting his mother, she had never met Kreacher. Dobby had friendly eyes that put Eira at ease, however, and a way of speaking that endeared her to him at once. She followed him all the way to the top of the house while Mr and Mrs Malfoy went to greet their only child, Draco.

"Have you brought me anything, father?" Draco asked hopefully as he sauntered into the room.

"A new servant," Lucius answered, taking no interest in his son's obvious disappointment. Narcissa, however, took out a bagful of sweets and smilingly handed these to her beloved boy. Draco was eleven and would be starting his first year at Hogwarts in September, which Narcissa had torn feelings about.

"What do we need another servant for?" Draco asked his father as he opened a Chocolate Frog.

"Strictly speaking, she is not a servant," Lucius clarified, "So don't go talking about her to your friends like she is. Dobby will still do the majority of work around the house. She is your uncle's wife. You remember when we said your uncle Sirius was marrying that vile Muggle? That's her."

Draco scrunched up his nose in derision. "What's she doing here?"

"Sirius has been arrested and is going to Azkaban. I feel she may be useful, so we are keeping her here."

"Why has uncle—"

"So many questions, Draco," Lucius frowned. "That's enough. You ought to be studying, so off you go. And don't eat all those sweets at once." He gave his wife a reprimanding look for buying them in the first place, but Narcissa pretended not to notice, now busying herself with unwrapping all her purchases on the enormous oak dining table as Draco sculked off. She took out Eira's new clothes one by one, folding them carefully and putting them aside.

Lucius came to her side, looking somewhat amused as he watched her lay everything out. "My dear, are you trying to make her look as unattractive as possible?"

Narcissa lifted her eyes to his. She was extremely pretty but growing increasingly aware of her middle age; she worried about the creases around her eyes, the fine lines developing, and fretted consistently that her husband would wake up one morning and no longer find her attractive. She thought Lucius, on the other hand, had only grown more handsome over the years and was pleased to see that her son, Draco, was beginning to look like him. Narcissa worked hard to keep up her appearance, always dressed in the finest clothes, never without makeup, her hair always in place, and Lucius had never given reason for her to wonder if she was still beautiful. He told her all the time how beautiful she was. However, a younger woman in the house posed a threat. She had perfect faith her husband would never stray with any woman, let alone a Muggle, but her fear and pride would never rest if it felt threatened even for a moment.

"She's not here to walk around looking pretty," Narcissa frowned. "I want her to be invisible if I am to endure her."

Lucius kissed his wife's cheek fondly, laughing. "Endure her as you must, but she may be difficult to ignore."

"What do you mean?" Narcissa narrowed her eyes suddenly.

"Nothing, darling," he encircled her waist. "How you worry…"

Narcissa scowled and looked back down at the clothing. "I never expected her to be that beautiful…" she murmured.

"Cissy," Lucious stared at her incredulously, "You are far more beautiful than her. You are surely not jealous? She's a Muggle."

"No, I'm not jealous," Narcissa answered briskly. "I just didn't think she would be attractive."

"She's not attractive, darling. There's nothing attractive about a Muggle."

"She is attractive though," Narcissa turned around so she was now facing him. She briefly thought back to the moment she was in the dressing room with Eira, the twinge of jealousy – or admiration, though she wasn't initially sure – she felt when she saw her slender, shapely body in the mirror. The thought of Lucius's hands on that body briefly intruded her thoughts.

"You know I only have eyes for you, Cissy," he kissed her forehead gently.

Narcissa nodded and rested her head against his shoulder for a moment, enjoying the sensation of his strong arms around her. When he pulled away, Narcissa turned back to the clothes on the table. "I'll take these upstairs to her."

"Get Dobby to do it," Lucius frowned. "I was hoping to have a cup of tea with you."

Narcissa shook her head. "I won't be long."

"Cissy," Lucius said coolly, placing his hand on her wrist, "I don't want you to become too… preoccupied with that girl."

"What do you mean?" Narcissa frowned.

"I think we need to sit down and have a cup of tea, my dear," he replied, escorting her across the room before she could argue. Dobby had prepared the Drawing room earlier with a warm fire burning in the enormous fireplace, along with hot tea waiting on a tray. Lucius took his usual seat in front of the fireplace and Narcissa sat down opposite hers, watching silently as her husband poured the tea.

"Walburga wants to see that girl broken," he said after a long moment. "You know how furious she is Sirius betrayed her."

"What did you mean by what you said earlier?" Narcissa demanded impatiently. "About becoming preoccupied?"

"I know you sometimes feel lonely here."

"Yes, when you're away, but you're not often away. And I have Draco…"

"Draco is starting at Hogwarts in a month, Narcissa. When I am away, it will just be you, Dobby, and that girl."

"What are you saying?"

Lucius looked at her now. He had a reproachful look in his grey eyes as if he were reprimanding a young child.

"The girl is my responsibility, not yours. Do you understand me?"

"What are we even doing with her, Lucius? Why is she here? If Walburga wants to break her, why does she not take her in herself?"

"She's an old woman," Lucius frowned.

"Old, but she'd kill that girl if she had the chance."

"Nobody is going to kill her."

"Just tell me what she is doing here!" Narcissa snapped.

Lucius sipped his tea slowly, keeping his eyes on his wife. "We can use her to our advantage."

"But we have Dob—"

"Not just for cleaning and scrubbing," Lucius interrupted abruptly. "For when the Dark Lord calls us."

Narcissa stared at her husband. "I don't understand…"

"Sirius is, or soon will be, in Azkaban. And with him, he takes a lot of crucial information that could be advantageous to our position, if he were to give up said information. That girl knows a great deal and it won't be difficult to get it out of her. Keeping her here also deflects the attention on us. She's a Muggle. If we look as though we are caring for her well-being, we shan't be suspected of following the Dark Lord."

Narcissa sat back in her seat, quiet and thoughtful. "And when we no longer need her, then what?"

Lucius shrugged. "We can obliviate her memory. Unless, of course, Voldemort doesn't kill her first, which is more likely."

Narcissa felt slightly uncomfortable at the mention of killing Eira, but she didn't voice this objection. It was inevitable that Eira, dead or alive, would be discarded at some point. It was also inevitable that Sirius would die in Azkaban, as most did, and thus Narcissa needn't worry her conscience too much.

"For now, we shall just put her to work with Dobby," Lucius said with indifference. "She needs to be put in her place and understand we do not tolerate her kind."

Eira wasn't sure how long she had slept for, nor what time it was when she awoke, but she could see it was dark outside. For a moment, she couldn't even remember where she was. The moonlight was coming through her window, partially illuminating the dingy room, and the rain outside was throwing itself against the glass.

Feeling a little too warm, she pushed the heavy bedclothes back. Her forehead was damp and her hair was sticking to her skin. A dull feeling in her stomach reminded her suddenly why she was here and what had happened. She sat up a little, the bedsprings creaking painfully, looking for some source of artificial light, and eventually slipped out of bed to tread across the room, feeling the walls for a switch. She found one – a round, old-fashioned one – and a dim orange light lit up the room and her strange surroundings. It was a large, damp room with a tall dome-shaped ceiling and large windows, which were rattling loudly against the howling wind. The room was cold, but as Eira's fever had increased her temperature, she hardly felt it. The old iron bed, which Eira had just climbed from, she could now see was broken; the lumpy mattress dipped low in the middle, nearly touching the floor. Beside the bed was a small, battered table with a drawer. Her awful new clothes were folded on top of this. Next to Eira was an old ornate wardrobe, which opened with a very load moan and she found was empty except for some wire coat hangers and mothballs. Across the room was another door, which was partially open. Eira walked over to this door and pushed it open all the way, discovering a small bathroom with an old chain toilet, a clawfoot bathtub, and a porcelain sink. A small mirror hung above the sink.

This was all wrong, Eira thought to herself with a heavy pain in her chest. She should be enjoying her wedding with her husband. She should be in his arms, warm and safe. The pain in her chest tightened and Eira had to catch her breath. She sank to the floor, letting out a loud sob. A rat scuffled by her hand and the wind seemed to howl louder over the roof, competing with Eira's anguished cries.

As though she had been heard, the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs presently disturbed Eira. She did not stop crying, not even when the door swung open and Narcissa wordlessly entered with a tray of food. She set the tray down on a chair close to Eira and looked at her. Eira ignored her, curling up tighter on the floor, and sobbed softly.

"I forgot to buy you a nightie," Narcissa said, revealing a couple of simple old nightgowns she had folded over her arm. "These should fit you."

She placed the clothing over the end of the bed, which after observing the state of, she swiftly repaired with a spell. The bed now stood upright, as good as new.

"And I supposed you would need these…" she placed a box containing sanitary towels down on the bed as well. "When you need more, tell me."

Eira finally looked over at her but said nothing. Narcissa smoothed her hands out down her smart skirt, now looking like she didn't know what to do with herself. She looked around the room grimly, shivering a little, and then strode over to the dirty grate in the centre of a large, but plain fireplace. Narcissa again took out her wand, uttered the word "Incendio" and a large warm fire lit up the room.

Narcissa momentarily looked pleased with herself, but as she looked more closely at Eira she noticed how pale, yet deeply flushed her skin was, and how heavy her eyes appeared.

"You look unwell…" Narcissa frowned slightly as she looked more closely at Eira. She knelt beside her and Eira quickly backed away on her heels.

"Of course, I'm unwell, you stupid bitch," Eira spat back.

Narcissa flinched at this, her eyes flashing the way her husband's did when he was angry. She stood up at once and without any hesitation, slapped Eira hard across the face.

"How dare you?" Narcissa raised her hand again and hit Eira a second time. "I come up here with food and clothes for you, light you a fire, and you speak to me this way?"

"I shouldn't even be here!" Eira retorted furiously, hardly feeling the sting of where she had been struck. "I am supposed to be with my husband!"

"Your husband won't even know who you are in a few weeks, once the Dementors kiss him," Narcissa said with some pleasure.

Eira grew quiet at this, breathing hard and fast. Her cheeks were now redder than before and she desperately wanted to open the window for some cold air – and with any luck, to push Narcissa out. They glared at each other for a long moment, until the smooth icy voice of Lucius startled them both, as neither of them had heard him coming up the stairs.

"Now, now," Lucius sounded vaguely amused, "Cissy, what is all this? I told you not to come up here."

"I brought her some food and some old nighties," Narcissa replied stiffly. "She's not shown an ounce of gratuity for it. And she called me a… a…."

"A stupid bitch," Eira said helpfully. Narcissa at once turned back to her, grabbing Eira's arm, but Lucius intervened by gently taking hold of his wife's shoulders and pulled her back.

"Narcissa, there is plenty of time to beat her tomorrow. I will see to it. Now please, go to bed. You'll never sleep if you get yourself worked up like this."

Narcissa looked hesitant. "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"Yes, in a moment."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes on Eira, glowering at her darkly before she turned and swept out of the room. She didn't go down the stairs immediately though, as she was straining to listen to her husband as he squared up on Eira. With great satisfaction, she heard Lucius strike Eira hard enough to cause her to cry out.

"Call my wife a bitch again and you'll get more than a hard slap across the face," Lucius grabbed Eira's long hair in his fist, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Eira's lip started to bleed, and her scalp was prickling with pain. She whimpered and began to plead as he tugged harder, "Let go of me… Let go!"

Lucius listened to the sound of his wife's footsteps receding down the staircase. Once sure she was no longer listening, he looked at Eira, his eyes still wild with anger. At first, Eira didn't realise that Lucius's hand was resting on her bare leg, where her dress had hitched up in all the confusion. It was only when she felt his fingers digging into her skin that she started back in terror; his nails were almost puncturing her skin.

"You're a filthy, good for nothing little whore," he sneered at her. "How could Sirius have loved you? You're disgusting."

Eira, now too scared to look at him, shut her eyes tightly, pleading softly and crying. Then, with relief, she felt him release her hair and his iron-like grip on her thigh. When she opened her eyes again, he was striding out of the room, slamming the door behind him. She heard it lock and his footsteps disappeared down the stairs quickly. Trembling all over, and now truly terrified for herself, Eira got up and moved the food tray aside. She dragged the chair over to the door and fixed it under the doorknob so that nobody could enter – or at least not without her hearing them first. She then began to undress in a hurry, tearing off the itchy dress and the poorly fitting undergarments. Now only in a slip, she turned off the light, so the room was only illuminated by the small fire in the grate and climbed back into bed to hide under the bedclothes like a frightened child.