POV: Calla

The Malfoy Manor was the largest private estate I had ever encountered. The mansion loomed up ahead at the end of a very long drive that was bordered by meticulously trimmed hedges. The manor had tall dark walls and seemed to radiate an air of foreboding, as though it was trying to close itself off from outsiders. Despite its intimidating character, there was a certain majestic beauty to it, and a warm light emanated from the large windows.

I smoothed down my hair and tugged at my silk dress, questioning whether I really wanted to be here.

"Don't bite your nails, Calla," my father ordered, offering me his arm.

"Nasty habit," my mother spoke up from the other side of him.

I rolled my eyes, not responding. I took his arm and the three of us strolled up the long drive, not speaking the rest of the way. The stillness of the night was unsettling; it was as if the world was holding its breath.

I glanced at my parents, but their eyes were both fixed straight ahead as they walked. Milford and Aeliana Cresswell were stiff, unaffectionate people, not unlike the Malfoys themselves from what I had heard. Yet, they had always treated me very well.

They had also always been honest with me about my adoption. I couldn't even remember my biological parents, and although I wondered about them from time to time, the Cresswells were the only family I had ever known. I didn't always fit in with them - I had never been able to replicate the calm, refined nature of my father, nor the quiet elegance of my mother. Yet, I had followed them both into Slytherin, something I never regretted. Belonging to Slytherin had always been a point of pride for Milford and Aeliana, and truth be told, I carried that pride as well.

My father now stopped short in front of the entrance to the manor and glanced down at me with a scrutinizing look.

"Let's make sure this goes well. The Malfoys are an important family."

"If you say so," I muttered.

Looking up at the heavy oak doors, I wondered why I had agreed to come tonight. The invitation had been addressed to "The Cresswells," but I'm sure they wouldn't have missed me. My father knocked, and the door swung open. A house-elf ushered us in and squeaked, "The Malfoys will be with you shortly," before scuttling away.

The foyer was handsomely furnished. Heavy velvet curtains hung from the windows, pillars of white marble towered up to the high ceilings, and a mahogany fireplace dominated the far wall. Looking up, I saw a large ornate chandelier that glittered like ice in the light from the fire.

I stood there, mesmerized by the grandeur of the room, when the sound of echoing footsteps caught my attention. The Malfoy family descended the stairs, fitting right into their environment. Narcissa was beautiful in a cold, regal sort of way and Draco cleaned up rather nicely, though he looked about as miserable as I felt. Lucius Malfoy seemed to command the room, with his head held high and his cloak billowing behind him. My eyes widened as he approached. As soon as he stepped into the light of the fire, I could trace his features with my eyes; his defined jawline, sleek blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Was this really the father of that pale, whiny boy who was only a year below me at Hogwarts? I gulped nervously as his cool eyes met mine - his knowing smile gave me the impression that he could read my thoughts.

"Milford, so nice to see you again," he spoke, turning to my father.

God, even his voice was intoxicating.

"You as well, Lucius."

"I believe you've met my wife, Narcissa, and my son, Draco."

"Nice to see you again," my father replied, shaking their hands. "I'd like to introduce, my wife, Aeliana, and my daughter-"

"Calla," Lucius finished, his eyes settling on me again. "Of course, Draco has mentioned you a few times since you joined the Quidditch team. I've heard you're a talented Chaser."

"I'm alright, Mr. Malfoy," I replied, trying to keep my composure.

"No need for such formalities," he said, taking his hand in mine. "Call me Lucius."

I smirked slightly at him, noting his mischievous smile and the way he cocked his eyebrow.

Not long after, they led us to an equally large and ornate room, but this one had a long dining table resting on a green and silver carpet. Another fireplace was in this room as well, gradually taking the chill out of the air. Lucius and Narcissa sat on either end of the table, and I took my seat on the long side with my back to the fireplace.

A couple house-elves, including the one that had opened the door, poured red wine around the table. The wine was smooth and sweet, and it warmed my skin, bringing a flush to my face. Lucius and Milford began talking idly about a recent law put in place at the Ministry, and I drowned out the conversation.

Looking across the table, I made eye contact with Draco, who had a sulking, sullen look on his face. He nodded at me and looked back down into his glass. I wasn't particularly fond of him, but he was nice enough to me, especially compared to how he treated the Muggleborn students at Hogwarts. Not only was I in Slytherin, but I also came from a pureblood family. Well, at least it was mostly pureblood. We were also on the same Quidditch team and he wasn't half bad as a seeker - maybe not as good as Potter, but still decent.

I looked around the room, admiring the decor. Just behind Lucius, I spotted a towering long-case clock with a brass pendulum that looked to be much older than anyone in the room. The Malfoys were undoubtedly an "old money" family and from what I had heard, had been pureblood and Slytherin for as far back as anyone could remember. The Cresswells were similar in that we were mostly pureblood and Slytherin, but although we were well off, we definitely didn't come from old money. I wondered listlessly if Lucius would care about such a thing.

Focusing my eyes back from the clock, I nearly jumped in my seat at the realization that Lucius was staring directly at me. He was still talking in a low voice to Milford, but my father didn't seem to notice that Lucius had his attention elsewhere. I smiled at him, hoping the shadow cast by the fireplace wouldn't hide my face too much.

"So I hear you're going to be going to the Quidditch World Cup next week, Calla," Narcissa said politely.

Tearing my attention away from Lucius, I turned to face her, hoping she hadn't noticed my slightly agitated state.

"Er, yes, I will be," I answered a little too loudly. "I'm going with a couple friends from school."

"Draco will be there," she said. "Unfortunately, I have some business to tend to that week. But perhaps you'll run into each other there."

I glanced at Draco again, who looked rather indifferent.

"Yes, in fact, we have seats in the Top Box as an invitation from the Minister," Lucius stated casually. "You should drop by."

My eyes were drawn to him again and my heart skipped a beat as I saw him wink at me. I cleared my throat and stood up abruptly.

"Would you point me to the restroom?" I directed my question at Narcissa, but I felt Lucius's eyes on me still.

"Of course dear, just down that hall. Last door on the left."

She pointed me to a hallway just off the dining room that curved into darkness. I went the long way around the table so I could pass by Lucius. As I passed him, I dragged my index finger horizontally along his back, between his shoulder blades so that no one else could see. I felt him tense momentarily, but his conversation with Milford had resumed and he gave nothing away. I scurried down the hallway without looking back. Had I just done that? The wine had given me courage that I otherwise may not have had. What did I even expect to happen?

I stepped into the bathroom and fell against the door, pressing my hand against my racing heart. I glanced into the mirror and made an assessment. My tan was hiding the flushness that had risen to my cheeks, my long dark hair was still in place, and my dress was clean and free of lint, although it had crept up my legs a bit more than I had intended it to. I could definitely pass for being sober.

I waited a couple minutes, then I opened the door and ran directly into Lucius Malfoy. He grabbed my shoulders to steady me, and he leaned back to look me up and down with an appraising look.

"I like that dress," he said in a quiet voice.

My heart started to race again.

"Mr. Malfoy," I spoke, equally quiet.

"I told you to call me Lucius," he corrected with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. His left hand traced gently from my shoulder to my collarbone, where he fiddled absentmindedly with my necklace. I felt goosebumps rising to my skin along the path he had traced, but I was strangely warm at the same time. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and bravely took a step closer so that our bodies were almost touching.

"Lucius," I said, enunciating every syllable of his name, enjoying the way it sounded in my mouth.

"I was just on my way to the kitchen to check on the first course," he continued. He leaned in close to whisper against my ear, "You should head back. You don't know what you could run into in these halls."

He abruptly pulled back and strode the rest of the way down the hall, to where I assumed the kitchens were. I stayed pressed up against the bathroom door for another moment, shivering slightly at the feeling of his touch that still lingered on my skin. I sped down the hall in the opposite direction, back to the dining room.

The rest of the dinner was entirely uneventful, except for the handful of times when I made eye contact with Lucius, who seemed to be far more composed than I was. The mundane conversation returned to happenings at the Ministry, and Draco and I mostly remained silent.

Soon after dinner, we all gathered in the drawing room, where the house-elves poured yet more wine. I swirled mine in my glass. Lucius had begun talking about the Hogwarts sorting ceremony as the start of term was only a week away.

"Yes, well, there certainly are a fair few more Muggleborns in Slytherin nowadays than there were in my day," Narcissa was saying.

"Yes, I suppose there are," Milford said casually, downing his wine. "More friendship between the houses too. I suppose it's good for school spirit."

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"You know," Lucius spoke slowly, "it wasn't long ago that there were stricter rules about that in place."

"What do you mean?" Milford asked.

"There is something to be said for... tradition," Lucius answered. "Some of these new, well, half-blood families don't quite have an appreciation for it."

My ears perked up, curious now where he was going with this.

Milford shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"It's a shame so many families have renounced the old ways," Lucius continued.

Aeliana placed a hand on my shoulder, and whispered, "Why don't you go with Draco for a tour of the garden? Go." She gave me a little push.

I opened my mouth in protest, but Draco took my hand and led me out of the room before I could say anything.

I was fuming at my mother, but I didn't want to cause a scene. As soon as the conversation had shifted to something serious, not to mention interesting, she had ushered me out of the room. My 18th birthday had just passed. Why did my parents still treat me like a child?

Draco and I emerged into the garden, which was unsurprisingly, beautiful and meticulously cared for. He said something to me, but I hardly heard him, as thoughts whirled around my mind; thoughts of Lucius's hands on me, and thoughts of what he had just said about tradition at Hogwarts. A bone-chilling suspicion crept up my spine as I remembered how uncomfortable my father had seemed.

It occurred to me that despite the Malfoys being one of the most well-known families in the Wizarding world, I really didn't know a thing about them.

****

POV: Leucippe

"Can't you see them?"

"No... Charlie, are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Of, course I'm sure..."

"Where then?"

"Past those trees. There's a small clearing."

A plume of smoke shot into the air from the dense canopy of trees. I jumped back, a scream getting caught in my throat. A rush of flames chased the smoke into the darkening sky, briefly lighting up the gloom of dusk. Deep guttural rumblings permeated through the forest from all directions, giving the impression that the source of the noise was both very far away, and very, very close. Another jet of flames soared into the air as the sounds swelled into a deafening roar. I jumped back and reflexively reached for my wand in my back pocket. Charlie threw his head back in laughter, not seeming the least bit concerned. I looked at him incredulously, worried about his sanity.

He shrugged and gave me a lopsided grin. "We're far enough away. We could get closer if you want to."

I focused on the sound, which had settled down to a low, consistent volume, and realized that it wasn't really coming from all around us, like I had thought. It was very clearly coming from the source of the smoke, which was only now dissipating into the air.

Charlie looked at me expectantly. A little breathlessly I asked, "What breed are these?"

"Romanian Longhorns. They've been endangered for a while now. There's a big problem with poachers going after them for their horns. Pretty useful as a potion ingredient."

Trying to think of a way to distract him, I rambled, "There's a similar problem with rhinos in the Muggle world-"

"Stop changing the subject," Charlie said, smirking. "Let's get a bit closer. You want to actually see them, don't you?"

"Y-yes."

Charlie nodded and gestured for me to follow him down the path. I trailed behind him, stumbling on the loose rocks and staring around wide-eyed, though there wasn't much to see from where we were. This sanctuary was the largest of its kind in the entire world, and it wasn't exactly easy for just any wizard to get into... unless of course you happened to be friends with Charlie Weasley.

Charlie threw me another glance, winking at me, before descending a steep slope that disappeared into the dark underbrush of the forest. I lost sight of the clearing up ahead, but based on the noise, I knew that the path was taking us straight to it. My heart thrummed in my chest and my breathing became more laborious as my anticipation built. Passing between two large oak trees, we emerged from the dark sanctuary of the forest out onto a flat precipice that jutted out over the clearing. Charlie led me to the edge of the crag, motioning for me to look over, though it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sudden glare of the rising sun.

Summoning my courage, I peered over the sheer drop.

They were beautiful. The two dragons were a wonder of iridescent silver scales, flashing amber eyes and black horns that trailed down their backs and reflected the dawn light. They were larger than I ever could have imagined, a marvel of sinewy muscle and wings that could touch the heavens. The smaller one was moving around and despite her intimidating appearance, she seemed to be almost playful, biting at the small jets of flame that her larger companion emitted.

I forgot to be afraid, reaching my hand out as if I intended to touch them. I could have sworn I felt heat on the palm of my hand as I reached out towards the source of the flames. Several of the trees surrounding their clearing were freshly burnt, which was evident by the tendrils of smoke that rose from their blackened branches. Despite the heat, which was sure to be suffocating up close to the dragons, most of the shrubbery seemed to be lush and green. I wondered if there were some sort of regenerative spells used on the plants and trees to combat the sweltering heat, not to mention the actual flames. I turned to ask Charlie, but I quickly forgot my question when I saw his face. I was taken aback by the expression on his face, a combination of fierce intensity and boyish glee. We were now both lying flat on our stomachs, close to the edge of the cliff to get the best view. A gust of air rushed up toward us and flattened our hair as the smaller dragon suddenly flapped her wings at the sight of a hawk that had swooped in too low.

I looked over at Charlie, who was shaking with silent laughter. I laughed too, instinctively covering my mouth, and in that moment it occurred to me that this was the first time I truly understood why my friend had chosen this line of work.

****

Two days later, Charlie and I arrived at his childhood home, the Burrow, just as the sun was setting. It was a hot day and the end of August and the trip from Romania had been long and tiring.

Charlie and I had been friends for about a year now, ever since he became a dragonologist and moved to Romania, where I lived with my Muggle parents. My parents, Henry and Dione Hallewell, had been considerably open-minded since my letter arrived from Hogwarts, although certain things made them rather nervous, including Charlie's impromptu invitation to the largest dragon sanctuary in Europe. I had tried to protect my parents as much as possible, although there were a few things that they had learned despite my secrecy, including last year when we had a werewolf as a teacher, and the year before when a giant snake was loose in the castle, petrifying Muggleborns. Not to mention, the year before that one, when the darkest wizard in history had been hiding under the turban of our Defence against the Dark Arts professor.

Despite their worries, they had agreed to let me stay with my friend, Luna Lovegood, during the week of the Quidditch World Cup. Charlie was also returning to Britain to watch the game and to see his family before his younger brothers went back to school. He had invited me to visit the Burrow before going to the Lovegoods.

I accepted the invitation but even though I was used to spending time with Charlie, but the thought of seeing so many people who I didn't know very well all at once made my palms sweat. Thoughts of all the ways I might embarrass myself kept invading my thoughts.

The Burrow was much larger than Charlie had described it, a quaint but impressive cottage in the countryside of Devon.

"Looks like everyone's still out," Charlie said, glancing at the wall where the magical clock indicated that the other Weasleys were 'In Transit.' I breathed a sigh of relief. I still had a bit of time to prepare myself for the largest amount of social interaction I was going to have all summer. Even empty, the Burrow was filled with life, with scarves knitting themselves and a blue fire crackling in the fireplace.

"This is so nice," I said.

"Care for a tour?"

"Sure, I just need to wash up first."

"Alright, I'm just going to run my things upstairs."

Charlie pointed me to the washroom off the main living area, where I splashed cool water on my face, trying to wake myself up after having fallen asleep on the train. I stared into the mirror, trying to smooth down my light wavy hair, which had become frizzy in the humidity. I finally gave up on it and returned to the living room, where I stopped short. A man, who was definitely not Charlie, was standing in the middle of the room, fiddling with a small suitcase on the coffee table. He turned when he heard me come out, and cocked his eyebrow, tilting his head inquisitively at me.

I recognized him as Bill Weasley, whom I had never officially met, although I had seen a few pictures of him; I also knew that he had been in his last year at Hogwarts, while I had been in my first year.

Bill resembled Charlie in some ways, with his copper hair and freckled skin, and they both had a distinctively rugged appearance, although Bill's looked a bit more refined in some ways. He was also taller and leaner, with slightly longer hair that brushed his broad shoulders.

"Bill," Charlie greeted him, running down the stairs and slapping Bill on the back. "Nice to see you. You need a haircut. Have you met my friend, Ms. Leucippe Hallewell?"

"Charlie," he greeted, hugging him back. "And Leucippe. Nice to meet you."

I smiled awkwardly at him.

Up close, I could see that he looked discernibly more surly and serious than Charlie, giving the impression that he was quite a bit older than his younger brother, though I knew they were only a couple years apart in age. He wore a button-down shirt, with rolled-up sleeves that revealed leather cuffs on his wrists, and a dragon tooth earring dangled from one ear. Bill would probably be quite handsome if it weren't for his steely expression that made his features seem overly harsh.

Putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder, he said, "How've you been. Doing okay?"

"Yeah, just working a lot," Charlie said, shrugging.

Bill nodded. "I'm just dropping by for a moment to pick something up. I have to head back to the Ministry tonight to deal with some business."

"Mum and Dad are almost back. Sure you don't want to wait for them?"

"I'll see them tomorrow morning. I really need to get going," he insisted.

"Must be important. You're starting to sound like Percy."

Bill smiled slightly at Charlie's jab and said, "We'll catch up later, yeah?"

After I was sure he was gone, I turned to Charlie and raised an eyebrow at him.

"He's a good bloke, and usually pretty friendly, just a lot on his mind right now," Charlie shrugged, answering the question that I hadn't spoken aloud.

"Didn't you tell me he got a new job or something this year?" I tried to keep my voice casual, not wanting to seem too nosy.

"Yeah, he starts next week, technically. Been stressing him out, I reckon," Charlie responded, pushing his hands into his pockets and rocking slightly back and forth on his feet.

"So what kind of job is it?"

"Oh, that's top secret," Charlie said, winking. "It's sort of a favour to Dumbledore."

"A favour to Dumbledore?" I echoed.

"Actually, I'm helping him out too this year," Charlie said, proudly.

I rolled my eyes. Charlie could talk about Hungarian Horntails and Peruvian Vipertooths for hours on end, but he had a knack for neglecting to mention things that were actually relevant.

"Well, come on, I won't tell," I pleaded.

"Alright, fine. So I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but some stuff is going to be happening at Hogwarts this year."

"What does that even mean?"

"I just think it's going to be an interesting year at Hogwarts," he grinned smugly

"I was almost killed by a giant snake two years ago. How much more interesting can it get?" I quipped. Something else occurred to me. "Hang on... you work with dragons. What exactly are you going to be doing at Hogwarts this year?"

Charlie was now smiling from ear to ear, seeming to enjoy withholding information. But it's not like Dumbledore was crazy enough to let a dragon into the Hogwarts grounds.

Or is he? I reconsidered.

"Please, just tell me," I said, sounding more whiny than I intended.

"Okay, okay, fine," he laughed, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "Just keep it to yourself though, deal?"

I nodded.

"Ever heard of the Triwizard Tournament?"