Chapter Text
“Oh, Father tell me, do we get what we deserve? Whoa, we get what we deserve. And way down we go.”
-KALEO, Way down We Go
It was on a strange summer day that a small party of three stood in front of a black iron gate that emerged out of ten-foot-tall hedges. Twin snakes coiled together around a large M where the gate met in a disturbing dance. There was a long dirt path lined with maze like shrubbery, leading up to a dark mansion, that could be seen through the small gapes of the barred gate. Even though the sun was looming high in the sky with nary a cloud, the estate remained veiled in an elegant darkness.
Blaine and Olivia Knight clasped their hands together at the entrance of Malfoy Manor with relieved breaths. Olivia glanced behind her shoulder to ensure their daughter, Ember, had survived the nauseating trip. She was shaky on her feet, eyes blinking dramatically, but otherwise unaffected as her small hand let go of her father’s bicep.
“Where are we?” She asked timidly, gazing up at the omnipresent estate, trying to suppress the nausea that had captured her stomach.
Ember Knight had just celebrated her fifteenth birthday in May. She was rather plain. She had wavy chocolate brown locks that stopped just above her breasts, was rather too skinny for her own good, had no curves to speak of her femininity, but she had the most enticing pair of forest green eyes you had ever seen. She was beautiful in the way of subtle grace. She was the perfectly sculpted model of what her parents had wanted her to be.
Ember never talked much. She never really got the opportunity. Her parents were frugal with the amount of attention they showed their only daughter. She knew that if she asked a question or made a comment that it would be received with silence or mild annoyance. It was always easier to remain silent than to be scolded over having a voice.
She grew up shy with a yearning for learning. She was a very bright girl, always reading everything she could get her hands on. Unfortunately, when one excels at learning they usually are very curious- Ember was no exception. Her parents however never gave her any worthwhile answers. More often than not they didn’t even try to placate her; they would rather scold her than indulge her curiosities.
“Please behave yourself Ember.” Her mother sighed brushing her own shoulder length blonde hair behind her ear.
Ember frowned, pulling the sleeves of her light cardigan over her thumbs.
Blaine nonchalantly pulled his wand out of his pocket and flicked it smoothly by his side. The gate groaned as it shifted open, granting the party entrance. “Yes. Don’t say anything stupid.” He remarked coldly towards his daughter before tightening his hold on Olivia’s hand and beginning to trek down the graveled path.
Ember sighed, ignoring the sting of his words, and began to follow behind her parents obediently.
Large peacocks caught her eye as they roamed on top of the wall of greenery. They cawed at the group occasionally, there long glorious necks stretching out indignantly, but mostly they kept to themselves. Her parents paid no mind to the exotic birds which gave Ember the impression that they had been here before.
Olivia glanced at her husband from the corner of her eye before letting out a gentle sigh of her own. Finally being able to deliver on their side of the deal soon meant that she would be free of the small amount of motherly guilt she had carried around for fifteen years.
They both had been filled with shame when their only child never presented any sign of magic. It was rare that a pure-blood child was magicless but it did happen. Merlin knows they had tried everything to knock magic into her, before giving up altogether and placing their shame in their daughter. They hoped that this arrangement would somehow awaken her dormant magical genes.
“Now the Malfoy’s are very important people.” Olivia stated easily.
“So don’t act childishly.” Blaine tacked on quickly. Ember didn’t have to see his face to know that he was arrogantly rolling his green eyes.
She had always thought of her father as a very powerful man. He had never disclosed his profession to her, but she always imagined him to be the CEO of some major corporation. He was always dressed in an immaculate power suit, walked with superior authority, and oozed confidence. He fit nicely there in her mind; always bossing people around.
“And remember,” Her mother added, “This is and was for the best.”
This was a new level of vagueness even for her parents. “But-” she began, frustrated, only to be cut off by her father.
“I don’t want to hear a thing.”
The trio finally escaped the hedges and stepped into the humble courtyard. The gravel pathway curved around a large charcoal fountain that laid before a large Victorian manor. As they crossed the courtyard, the hedges dissolved into lines of shrubs that caged in the entrance from the acres of well-maintained land on either side of the mansion.
After ascending up the front steps, Olivia turned to her daughter and began to straighten out her long hair. She flattened out her cardigan, uncovering Ember’s thumbs with a gentle scold, and tilted her chin upward. Her mother was careful not to meet her eyes as she inspected her as if she was being sold at auction. “Who are the Malfoys?” She whispered as her father took the large gargoyle door knocker in his hand and knocked three times.
“They are a very old family friend.” Her mother whispered back before turning towards the door. She scooted closer to her husband in an effort to conceal Ember.
It was only a moment later before the large door opened and Ember heard a woman shout, “Olivia!” before bringing her mother into a hug.
“Oh Narcissa!” Olivia gushed before wrapping her arms around the woman’s small frame.
Narcissa Malfoy had pale skin, like a porcelain doll, that stretched tightly among her body creating a valuable exterior. Her hair was most unusual. It was predominantly dark black with long streaks of snow white twisted back on the sides. She had thin eye brows that were rested high above deep blue eyes. Her red painted lips were lifted into a courteous smile as she and Olivia separated.
Ember stood where she was, with her hands nervously clasped in front of her, waiting for a proper introduction as her father took a step forward. He lifted one of Narcissa’s hands placing a courtly kiss to her skin. “It is very good to see you again Narcissa.”
“You as well Blaine. It has been far too long.” Narcissa gave him an acute smile that did not reach her eyes and stepped aside, gesturing for the company to enter. “Please come in.”
Her parents entered swiftly, unknowingly revealing a self-conscious Ember. Her toe caught on the small step of the doorway and she stumbled ungracefully into the house, catching Narcissa’s gaze immediately.
The woman looked down at her with surprisingly kind eyes and an even warmer smile. “Is this her?”
Olivia smiled politely as Blaine tongued the inside of his cheek with a reserved glare, “Yes. This is our daughter, Ember.”
Narcissa closed the door behind her softly before giving her a slow once over. Her eyes inspected her seemingly uncritically, “Well isn’t she lovely.”
Ember stared dumbstruck at the older woman. No one had ever called her lovely before. Blaine nudged Ember in the ribs, which was sure to leave a bruise, causing her to school her features before plastering a pleasant smile on her face and curtseying. “It’s very nice to meet you Mrs. Malfoy.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” She responded respectfully.
“Well we better get going.” Blaine announced smoothly, reaching around Ember for the handle of the door.
“Oh. Won’t you stay for some tea?” Mrs. Malfoy asked hopefully.
“No, we really must be going. We have a tight schedule to keep. Tell Lucius we said hello next time you see him, won’t you?” He replied impatiently.
Why are we in such a hurry to leave when we only just arrived? Ember thought curiously as her father opened the door and ushered her mother forward.
Quizzically she made to follow, when her father turned on his heel smoothly, almost knocking the poor girl down. “You are to stay here Ember.”
“What?” She asked ungracefully in a panicked voice. While Mrs. Malfoy seemed like a lovely woman, the mansion carried an unsettling vibe that chilled Ember’s bones. Surely her parents would have mentioned that she would be staying here.
“We will see you at the end of the summer. Be polite and courteous. I don’t want an owl sent to me on your behavior.” Her mother announced, brushing some of Ember’s hair back into place.
“An owl?” She asked confused. Why would they send her an owl?
When her question went unanswered and the two of them made to turn back towards the courtyard, Ember repeated softly, “I am to stay here…all summer?”
They ignored her completely, giving Narcissa a respectful good-bye before closing the door behind them.
Ember just stood there with her heart on the floor staring at the now closed door, too shocked to move. Her parents had never just left her with a practical stranger before.
“I know you must be confused dear, but everything will work out.” Narcissa told the small girl who stood there like a forgotten puppy without a purpose. Ember sighed sadly before turning to face her host once more offering her a smile so small it might not have even been there. “Right this way and I’ll show you to your room.”
Mrs. Malfoy began to climb the long rather grand staircase that led right from the foyer. Ember followed compliantly, shying away at every new piece of décor her gaze came across. The house was nothing but cold marble, gloomy walls, and accented greens with pops of silver. It was extravagant, it was ostentatious, it was depressing. All the expense could not mask the manors underlying foreboding nature. It left Ember with a malicious taste in her mouth- like dried blood.
Once on the second floor, they crossed one endless hall before turning down another that was narrow and windowless. They stopped at a door off to the left next to a large ficus. Mrs. Malfoy pushed open the door and with a welcoming smile. “Here we are.”
Ember timidly entered the room before confusion plagued her face. She gazed about the room with a critical, disbelieving, eye. The room was an exact replica to the one she had at her own home, right down to the old bed with her white duvet. She turned her torso back to the mysterious woman in the doorway. “How is this exactly like my room back home?” She asked suspiciously.
Narcissa arched a perfect brow, her lips forming a small ‘o’. Her eyes floated around the room with a quick glance before she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. “Oh. How peculiar…” She answered vaguely.
Ember frowned, making her way towards the dusty wardrobe in the corner by the window, curious to see if her few belongings were among the rest of the suspicious furniture, when Mrs. Malfoy intervened. “How about some tea?” She asked with a small clap of her hand. She left the doorway and began walking back down the hall with quicker steps.
Ember huffed, but followed the woman back down the stairs and into the elegant sitting room. She would have time to explore and ponder her room later.
She sat down in one of the mahogany chairs at the round table in the corner as Mrs. Malfoy poured freshly brewed tea into two delicate tea cups adorned with green peonies.
“My dear,” Mrs. Malfoy began as she finished pouring herself a cup and sat in the adjacent chair. “How old are you again?”
“I just turned fifteen a few weeks ago, Mrs. Malfoy” She answered before taking a small sip of her tea. Warmth instantly spread throughout her, always cold, body and relaxed her nerves. Really, she thought, there was nothing a good cup of tea could not fix.
“Please call me, Narcissa” She corrected tactfully while spinning sugar into her own cup of tea. “What school do you attend?”
Ember paused for a moment wondering why she was being subjugated to such trivial small talk when quite frankly there was an elephant in the room that she wanted addressed. “Bracelyn Academy.” She answered amiably.
“And is that a selective school?”
Ember nodded. She noticed Narcissa’s perfectly manicured nails tapping against the delicate tea cup.
“And how long have you attended?” She asked peering over her cup.
“This will be my eighth year,” She responded taking another generous sip from her tea. She bit her tongue against the questions she wanted to ask. If it hadn’t been brought into the conversation by now she was sure that it wouldn’t be introduced any time soon. Her head began to ache at the intense whirlwind of questions suppressed. She could only hope that she would find some answers before the end of summer.
Suddenly loud footsteps carried down the hallway from the foyer and a male voiced shouted, “Mum?”
Narcissa, who had been in the middle of taking another sip of tea, leaned forward, roughly swallowing what had managed to get past her lips, and placed her tea cup back in the saucer just a hair too sharply, in a truly awkward move from the pristine woman. She dapped her lips and chin with a lace trimmed cloth and called, “In here, dear!”
Soon enough a boy walked through the open entry way, his eyes immediately falling on Ember’s figure in the corner. He was tall, wearing a tailored suit that contoured his lean frame flawlessly. His hair, the same shade of platinum that his mums contained, was slicked back with the exception of one strand that fell into his pale blue eyes. His suit jacket that was unbuttoned, the slightly wrinkled shirt beneath it, and that one incredibly out of place strand of hair gave her the impression that he was either in a hurry to leave or had been in a hurry to get back.
“Draco, this is Ember Knight. Ember, this is my son Draco.” Narcissa introduced, careful to hide the nervous tone her voice had taken.
Draco’s eyes danced over her analytically causing her to blush and avoid eye contact with him altogether. His pale lips parted in understanding, gazing down at the small girl that easily resembled a doll at a tea party, and looked side ways to his anxious mother. “Is this the squib?”
Narcissa scowled. “Draco…” She hissed, but under his indignant eyes, she shook her head minutely.
Ember unconsciously cocked her head to the side at such a weird term. By his tone it was clearly meant to insult her, but she found it hard to be offended by something she didn’t understand. His eyes traveled back to her and she wished that she could fade into the wallpaper under such an intense gaze. It was like he looked right through her, into her very soul, and was able to count all the ways she was flawed.
“Why don’t you join us for tea?” Narcissa smoothed over eagerly. It was all she could do to slice the tension in the air. She understood the strain from her son, but she could also clearly see how uncomfortable the introduction was making Ember.
Draco pursed his lips before sighing and dragging out the chair next to his mother. He fell into it suavely and rolled his eyes in irritation as his mother stood up and walked into the adjoining kitchenette. He clasped his nimble hands and titled his head to get a better look at the girl now that they were left alone.
She was demure, sitting in the chair with perfect posture, her gaze diverted submissively, a shade of pink, the same tone of her rouge lips, covering her cheeks. He could see her fingers twitch as they laid in her lap. Her chest rose and fell just a beat too fast, betraying her anxiety.
“How old are you? Thirteen?” He asked abruptly, any kindness he possessed was well out of his grasp with the present situation.
Her vibrant eyes flicked up to his and he felt his breath hitch in just a whisper of admiration before his lips pulled down into a frown.
“I’m fifteen,” She whispered. It was not unusual that she was mistaken as younger than what she was. She was a tiny thing, without any real personality to her features that gave the perception that she hadn’t discovered herself enough to present a truthful first impression. “How old are you?” She responded in kind, although with a much softer approach.
“Seventeen.” He answered brusquely, waving his hand as if it was of little importance. He had only been seventeen for a little over a week and already the enthusiasm of reaching such a milestone was fading into indifference. He crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back in his chair with a curious expression. “So you really don’t know anything?”
“Excuse me?” She frowned. Had this random boy, in this random house, just implied that she was unintelligent?
He licked his bottom lip at the look of contempt crossed her face. Clearly his words had offended her without the proper context. “I mean that you don’t know anything about the reason why you are here?”
Her eyes left his as she reached out to straighten a wayward doily. “Oh, no. I don’t.”
He hummed in response. He had already known the answer, but was nonetheless interested in the confirmation. If she knew why she was here she would not have been acting so passive towards him.
She took another deep breath, wondering when his mother would return with his tea and end this painful interrogation. “What is a squib?” She asked, plucking up the courage to look back at him.
His face remained calculating for a moment before he smirked as if he was in on some secret joke. “Oh, nothing you need to be concerned about.”
The smirk filled his face with mischief and the response on Ember’s lips died as Mrs. Malfoy reentered the sitting room with a silver tray table, filled with fresh tea, another tea cup, an arrangement of pastries, and a peace-keeping smile on her face.