I know what you’re thinking. Oh, she’s sooo composed. Elegant. Poised. Self-assured. Has a comeback for every situation. Has mad skills and is oh-so-pretty.
Well, dear reader, I’m sorry to tell you this, but it wasn’t always that way.
Imagine a suuuper cute version of me. I think I was about six back then, and I ran up a hill. Daddy looked different in those days, more relaxed, and he smiled waaay more often. He was holding hands with Mother.
Like, reader, imagine a field full of butterflies. They’re called Shoba, and they’re completely invisible to Muggles. A field full of yellow, blue, or green butterflies that look like flowers from behind. They erupted in swarms and fluttered around me. I twirled and groped at the air, jumping after them and trying to catch them.
I heard shouts. Father ran after me, but I was having so much fun that I couldn’t hear him.
Then I slammed into a dark figure.
I looked up, and a skull mask stared down at me.
I screamed.
I turned and ran, but he uttered a spell, and I froze. I floated into the air as a semi-transparent blue shell formed around me. I couldn’t move my body. I rotated to face the man.
He wore overlapping black cloaks and a skull mask. Long black hair flowed around his mask.
I started screaming.
Father and Mother Apparated nearby, their wands raised and ready. The skull-masked man cocked his head.
I saw eyes of the deepest yellow regard me.
“Nott, let her go,” Daddy growled.
“You know, when Theodore was her age, he was disciplined. Refined. He would certainly never make such a foul noise.” Nott pinched the air.
My mouth clamped shut. I couldn’t speak.
“Nott, please. Put her down.”
Daddy had never sounded so scared.
Nott waved a hand as if dismissing us. The bubble popped, and I fell on my backside.
I scrambled up and took shelter behind Mother. I clutched her cloak, trying to stop myself from crying.
The adults talked for a minute. Then Skull Face Disapparated.
Nothing was ever the same after that day.
Father became more serious, more distant. Mother became stricter.
I remember it started the following morning. Mummy sat me down at the table while the elves laid out our plates. She took my hands and looked me in the eyes.
“You represent the Malfoids. You are not a child. You are a little lady, the inheritor of the Malfoid legacy. From this day forward, you will conduct yourself with decorum. When you’re out there, the world must never see the woman you truly are. You are a Malfoid, and that means that wherever you are, you are poised, calm, and in control. The world must never see the real you.”
She tapped my chest.
“Mama, I have to pwetend?” I asked.
She looked as though my question had broken her. Then she hardened her resolve, and although I might have been only six, I knew this was what I would have to do for the rest of my life.
There was the me inside.
Then there was the me the world got to see.
“Yes, sweetie. Whenever you leave this house, you must always pretend, because the world…” Mummy paused. “It’s always watching.”
My training began, and that was the last day I ever called her Mummy.
Harry toootally stared at me as tears filled my eyes.
That’s right. In the middle of the dance of my life, I suddenly started totally bawling.
I suppose I’m being hard on myself. It was three tears, tops, but he noticed, and we stopped dancing.
“Draconia?” he asked.
“Yeah!” I stepped away and wiped my tears.
What the hell was wrong with me?!
Here I was, doing this guy a favour by dancing with him. Me! The freaking Princess of Slytherin!
And what happened?
I got misty-eyed.
WHY?!
Whatever. Move on, girl.
Oi, reader! You. Yes, you! If you tell anyone what you saw, I swear I’ll make you pay!
“They really ought to dust this place more often. Appalling.” I fanned the air.
Harry looked away. Peeves had taken to harassing a headless ghost, tossing the poor spirit’s head from hand to hand while the body groped blindly for it. This chapter was copied from novelping dot com without permission.
“Let’s bounce.” Harry grabbed my wrist.
We ran across the dance floor, climbed the stairs, and stopped at the ghostly door.
“We have to touch it together,” Harry said.
“I read the scroll too.” I rolled my eyes.
I gripped the handle, and he placed his hand on top of mine.
Why was his hand so warm?
Why was my heart pounding?!
“On three,” he said.
“THREE!” I shoved the handle down.
“Wha…?” He blinked.
The door opened inward, and we fell.
I glimpsed an ephemeral brick wall as we passed through it. Beyond that, there was nothing.
We literally fell straight down into a black void, and, to my utter and complete shame, I screamed.
Well, not exactly a scream.
I squealed.
Have you ever heard a piggy squeal?
That was me.
Oh, the shame!
Light bathed us from below.
“Grab my hands!” He held them out to me.
I groped at the air. Our fingers touched, interlaced, and then he pulled me close.
I slammed into him, and he wrapped an arm around me.
My breath hitched.
My face was pressed against his chest, and I could hear his heartbeat. He smelled of cheap deodorant and faintly of dust.
“Arresto Momentum!” He whipped out his wand.
We slowed.
We righted ourselves.
Gently, we touched down on a field of pure white.
The moment we made contact, green flames erupted around us. We were engulfed.
I shrieked and clung to him even tighter.
Except we didn’t burn.
The flames exploded into a billion ectoplasmic moths. Reality unfolded around us in an explosion of ephemeral energy. Where there had been a circular white floor surrounded by darkness, a hilltop suddenly appeared.
“Whoa!” I stepped away and held out my hands.
Laughter bubbled out of me without warning. Ecto-moths swirled around me, and some passed through my fingertips.
It felt like touching snow.
I marvelled as the moths fluttered behind us and gathered together. Their bodies merged, and within seconds, they had transformed into a ghostly staircase. At the top stood the door back to the ballroom.
Behind us, the remaining moths gathered and formed an arrow pointing down the hill.
“Come on!” I grabbed his hand.
I laughed as we ran. The ghostly grass, white and green, seemed real one moment, then passed right through my legs the next. It felt like the kiss of winter, but in the best possible way.
The ground shifted beneath us as we ran. It straightened into a road. Bulges rose on either side of the path, and ghostly Erumpent horns burst from them.
The beasts made lowing sounds. They swung their horns at us, but the moment they reached us, they came apart into butterflies made of blue fire.
“Ha ha ha!” I laughed.
Another Erumpent horn thrust towards me. At the moment of contact, the rhino-like beast exploded into moon-fire butterflies.
Reality warped around us.
Skeletons wrapped in ghostly auras watched us. Some wore clothes, and one even tipped his hat at me.
“Good day, sir!” I waved.
The skeleton worked its jaw.
Did it talk?
I only heard rasping.
One by one, the buildings popped like balloons.
It was all so marvellous, amazing, fantastical, and wondrous that I couldn’t stop laughing. I wanted to see more. I wanted to experience it all, and above all else, I never wanted this moment to end.
“Wait!” Harry grabbed my arm.
I glanced back, and for the first time, I genuinely smiled at the Boy Who Lived.
The crazy boy with the crazy hair.
His deepest green eyes sparkled in the light of the ecto-flames.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“This place… it’s weird. We’ve hardly moved,” he said.
“What?” I blinked.
I looked past him, and sure enough, the ecto-moth staircase hadn’t moved.
I looked down.
We were still on the hill, with the arrow-shaped butterfly floating beside me.
“To me, it looked like you were running on the spot,” he said.
“Hmm…” I pursed my lips.
I ran towards the stairs, but they didn’t move.
“They moved before. I took your hand, and we ran, and…” I blinked.
I took his hand and walked towards the stairs.
They came closer.
“Oh, that’s weird.” He nodded.
“Well, Pot-head, let’s not make it weird. We’re two friend… acquaintances. We can get through this,” I said.
“You’re the one making it weird.” He laughed and grabbed my wrist.
“Waaait!” I squealed as he pulled me along.
We ran down the hill, and a path appeared ahead of us. Wispy walls materialized on either side. Soon, they became solid stone walls.
Ecto-moths fluttered overhead, lighting our way.
I looked back and saw a chamber with a glowing staircase leading out.
Had the hill been an illusion?
“I think you can let me go now,” I called.
“Not a chance. We can’t risk getting separated,” he said.
“Y… yeah.” I nodded.
The passage ended at an archway covered in ancient-looking ghostly writing.
Beyond it lay nothing.
A wall of inky darkness.
We stopped at the edge and exchanged a look.
“Ready?” he asked.
I straightened.
I was a Malfoid, after all. What was a wall of… utter… freaking… darkness?
Right?
“Of course.” I nodded.
“Great!” He flashed me a toothy grin.
I gasped.
He pulled me through, and the darkness consumed us.