Strangers Can Change Everything

Arabella followed Draco Malfoy along the winding corridors of Malfoy Manor, the cold stone beneath echoing their footsteps. Tapestries hung over certain sections of the walls, showing ancient wizard duels and battle scenes. Draco came to the front doors and flung them open suddenly, his strength revealed as he did this with much ease. Arabella shuddered as a cold spring breeze blasted through the doorway, striking her cheeks and bare arms.

"Bloody hell Draco!" Arabella exclaimed. "Talk about being dramatic!"

Draco didn't turn around or respond to her but merely changed the subject, "So what do you want to see first?"

Arabella walked up slowly so that she was standing beside him. He kept looking out onto the large expanse of stretching land that was a great example of the Malfoy wealth. Draco put a hand in his pocket and Arabella looked up at him. His sculptured jaw-line, a head above her, stood as still as if carved out of ice, and strands of his blond hair blew across his forehead, but he did not reach up to push them back.

There was a long moment of silence where Arabella suddenly felt enchanted by Draco's steady gaze and sense of hopelessness that filtered behind his eyes. She had never realised how much taller he was than her, how much broader his shoulders were. He spoke softly,

"It seems like a lot, doesn't it?"

Arabella gazed out again past the descending stone steps and marble serpent pillars. She nodded quietly. She was anxious to know why Draco seemed so consumed by the sight he saw and why he had taken such a turn in personality. He had been slightly uneasy with her ever since dinner the night before when she had seen his father look at him suddenly.

"It seems like a lot, but it means nothing. I have lived in this place for eighteen years, all of my life, but I don't call it home." Draco's dark tone and unexpected words that Arabella thought she'd never hear a Malfoy say, shocked her. Malfoy's did not have a reputation for discarding things that presented wealth. Draco continued, "Is this what you want to see, shall I show you the stables, the conservatory that sits behind the house, the lake in all it's goddam splendour?" He stopped sharply.

Arabella turned to look at him with a firm gaze settled on her pretty features.

"Don't talk to me like that," she spoke quietly but with great sincerity.

"What?" Draco answered distantly, he still gazed at the scene in front of him.

Arabella stepped out in front of him and gazed up until his stone-like eyes came down to meet her.

"Don't treat me like I'm just the same as everyone else in your world." Arabella spoke angrily. "I'm not another giggly girl lapping up Daddy's money, I'm not concerned with how much your family has, how many acres, or how many servants you own. That means nothing to me. You know that, don't pretend you don't, I know that you see more than other people do--you see past the false smiles and the importance of business arrangements--so don't pretend that I'm that stupid. Don't treat me like another irritating guest." Arabella looked down and sighed, "If you want me to leave you, I will."

Draco looked down at the young girl in front of him. Her arms were covered in goose pimples and she shivered in the breeze. The wind had whisked through her hair and curls started to fall around her face and bare neck. Draco watched as she started to walk away defiantly. Is she different? Was she really any different from any of the other girls that had intrigued him before? Was it lust? Would he get what he wanted just like he had with the many other girls and then become bored? As he watched her still, he thought not, this was different. His mind pondered questions that he knew could not be answered until found out for himself.

His father's warning had put him off and the scene that Draco had witnessed two nights ago with Arabella left huddled on the bed had left Draco feeling like he had never felt before. He pitied her but then admired her for such determination and this left him feeling confused and angry that someone could get so under his skin after only meeting them two nights ago.

The eighteen-year-old man left standing in the open doorway tilted his head to watch the girl who intrigued him so, ascend the stairs elegantly and his longing to call out and apologise almost over-came him. But Malfoys did not apologise. But he had to stop her. He knew she was right, and he did not want to lose the chance to satisfy his curiosity.

"Shall we then begin with calling down a warmer robe for you Miss Ostivia? If I'm going to give this tour then I don't want my guest shivering through all of it," Draco called to her; it was the only way of apologising that he knew.

Arabella had almost gone half way up but the change in tone and the look of sincerity that Draco gave to her as she slowly turned, persuaded her to go back and try and start again.

Draco and Arabella walked slowly under the evergreens, far from the house, along one of the gardens many paths that led around the house.

The two were talking simply and the conversation got easier and more friendly with every sarcastic remark and witty comment as they bantered with each other.

Arabella laughed heartily, "You should be more laid back, boy."

Draco raised an eyebrow in an un-amused way but his eyes glinted slightly more happily than Arabella had seen them before.

"Oh and I suppose you're the one to teach me, hey? Laid back is not one of the traits my family would call acceptable."

"Yeah, but they're not here right now, so you can let loose," Arabella smirked back, knowing quite well that Draco Malfoy was not exactly one who 'let loose' at any point.

"Maybe not," Draco replied.

"But it would be fun though," Arabella looked dreamily across the lake that was in the distance. "Don't you ever have that urge just to let go and leave all of this behind."

Draco looked thoughtful, as if it he was contemplating whether to let Arabella see more of his real side or not.

"I think about it almost everyday," he finally admitted quietly.

The pair walked on silently. The breeze nipped at their cheeks and Draco put up his collar, watching Arabella shiver again and pull at her sleeves to cover her bare hands. He could almost hear her teeth chattering and it wasn't even that cold.

"For god's sake," Draco suddenly muttered, stopping on the path and unravelling his black scarf, "I can't take watching you shiver any longer."

Arabella stopped beside him and watched as he came closer to her until he stood right above her and reached behind her neck, wrapping the scarf around her bare neck as if she were a child.

He felt her eyes watching him and he suddenly realised how close he was to her, her warm breath filtered across his jaw as he leant in to wind the scarf back around. After he finished he did not step away but looked down.

"Some would say that that was a nice gesture. Is the Malfoy reputation not all that it seems? Are you actually capable of thinking of others?" Arabella mocked softly.

"Some would say that you are trying to thank me," Draco responded just as quietly, his eyes still locked with hers.

"Some would say that you were flirting, Master Malfoy, or are you just being deceiving?"

"Ah, now that would be telling," Draco said mysteriously and his smug smile returned to his perfectly formed lips as he stepped back and they both continued walking.

Suddenly Draco laughed deeply and it pleasantly surprised Arabella. She had not heard him laugh before without sarcasm lacing the sound.

"You're like some sort of reptile, shivering in such a light breeze with a robe and coat on," Draco said as they walked on aimlessly.

"Real nice Draco. That's the way to win over a girl, call her a reptile," Arabella replied. That made him laugh more and Arabella couldn't help but smile.

***********************************************************

The breeze filtered across the neatly trimmed grass and swooped over Draco and Arabella's figures, ruffling their collars and hair. Arabella pulled her light robe further over her shoulders. The black suede material strained and Draco watched her quietly. She scraped her foot along the lower step of the stone stairs where they sat at the back entrance of the house. Draco's tour had finished after an hour or so and now they had come to the end.

She gazed out thoughtfully at the long garden with its neat flowerbeds, a flourish of red and white roses separated passages of lawn. They sat for a while in a comfortable silence, happy with each other's presence but with no need to strike up pointless conversation. Draco ran a hand through his hair and leant back against the cold step. After a moment Arabella turned to look at him and her nose wrinkled slightly as she laughed quietly, Draco watched her blue eyes dance and he realised that he loved it when they did that. He shook his head subtly; a Malfoy did not entertain such sentimental thoughts. His pride returned.

"Do you laugh to mock and insult me or are you just happy about something?" Draco drawled without looking at her, though he did not say it harshly, his lips twitched as if about to form a smile.

She laughed gently again, "I was just wondering what you were thinking," she put on a posh manly accent, "because you do look awfully concerned, old chap, that frown just sitting comfortably between your eyes!" Arabella giggled playfully.

Draco couldn't help but grin slightly as she mocked him.

"What sort of a question is that?" he returned.

"I dunno. You always look so deep in thought, I was just wondering."

Draco looked at her for a moment and then spoke sarcastically in his usual tone, a smug grin touching his lips as he spoke.

"I was thinking about how much I hate it when silly girls ask pointless questions, it is so dull." He pretended to yawn.

"Ah!" Arabella exclaimed, elbowing him in the ribs and pretending to look offended. They sat for a moment longer. Arabella watched the gardener who had just apparated into the grounds as he began to tend to some overgrown shrubs, extinguishing any weeds with a wave of his wand. She watched him stride sluggishly over to the lake and study the still water for some reason or other.

"What are you thinking of then, Miss Ostivia? Wow me with your intellectual thoughts," Draco spoke with little concern.

Arabella turned to look at him curiously.

"You don't really care, so why should I answer," she said matter-of-factly.

"I answered you, so you should do the courteous thing and do the same to me."

"You sound like my father Draco! Stop being so proper all the time, I don't care, there is no one else around."

Draco went quiet for a second. He was not used to being spoken to like that, but he let it go and waved it away by changing the subject.

"You didn't answer the question."

Arabella sighed; "Fine!" She took a moment to choose her words sensibly. "I was thinking about my past, about when I lived here in Sussex, before we went to France. I was thinking about my Uncle."

Draco said nothing. He knew that she wanted to elaborate, he could see it in the way she stopped sharply, gazing away from him, contemplating whether to say more. Draco gave her time to decide whether to confide in him. She coiled a strand of hair around her finger absentmindedly and continued, watching the bleak morning sun, hidden behind drifting clouds.

"I was watching your gardener and it reminded me of when I was younger."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "And it reminded you because... you wanted to be a gardener?"

"Do you want to hear this or not?" Arabella asked exasperatedly.

"Sorry, go on," Draco replied, a little taken back by his quickness to apologise.

"Your gardener was looking at the lake and it reminded me of my Uncle Simon, my father's younger brother. He was a great swimmer. He learnt to swim in the sea, and he taught me how to swim." She paused, and sighed wistfully.

"Have you ever been to a muggle swimming pool, Draco?"

"Well my family did not earn its reputation by indulging in muggle activity, strangely enough." Draco glanced at her thoughtfully. He did not expect her to be familiar with muggle ways, considering her father's attitude towards such things. Draco had read books on certain habits but had never been particularly interested in following the subject further and he had not taken muggle studies at his Owls or his Newts, unlike that know-it-all Granger. How happy he was to leave her and her lot behind with Hogwarts.

Draco traced his thoughts back to Arabella who crossed her legs underneath her on the step and looked as if she was going to explain her muggle interest.

"When I was little, eight or nine. My father was all over the place, involved in some business or other and my Uncle would come and look after me at the weekends sometimes. Once or twice every two months or so. He wasn't like my Dad, he was always laughing and he let me into a secret of his. My Uncle lived half in our world and half in the muggle world. No one knew. It would be a disgrace to the family, but I have told no one. I don't even know why I'm telling you."

She stopped and adjusted her legs, bring her knees up to her chest and placing her chin on them. She reminded Draco of a small child and he remained silent. His silence allowing her to continue and telling her through unspoken words that he would tell no one her Uncle's secret, an understanding crossed between them.

"Every time my Uncle came to visit he would take me to Brighton, a muggle seaside town. There is a huge leisure centre there with a swimming pool as big as that lake." She pointed to the grey water that was quite a way off, reflecting the billowing clouds above. "There were slides, tunnels and fountains that sprayed you as you went past. We would spend hours there, until our skin wrinkled. But we always got out before the afternoon, ready to return home before father came back or my nanny noticed my extended absence. We'd always stop on our way out by this big machine in the café outside. If you put muggle money in, it spurted out chocolate. I would always get a Mars bar. Just a type of chocolate," she added, seeing Draco's slightly confused face at the mention of a muggle product.

"On the journey home my Uncle would make me promise that I wouldn't tell anyone about our swimming trips. I would always roll my eyes and tell him that I would never be that silly and he would laugh and call me 'Little Miss Cheeky'. When he took me home, leaving me on the entrance steps, he would give me this huge bear hug and I would ask if I could come and live with him." Arabella chuckled quietly at the fond memory. "He would say that my father would miss me too much and as he was about to disapparate he would whisper, 'One day, Arabella. One day.' I would wave sadly as he went. Those were good days and I never forgot them. That's what I was thinking about."

Arabella went silent and lowered her eyes, gazing at the ground and Draco watched her. Her robes covered her legs and flowed around her ankles, like a puddle of blue velvet. Draco wanted her to keep speaking; he liked to hear her voice, so soft and controlled, hints of emotion adding to the atmosphere of her words.

"Where is your Uncle now?" Draco asked gently, hoping that he was not digging too deeply into a place that she did not want go.

"He died three years ago," she replied simply.

Draco looked at her a little shocked, not knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

"Thank you, but it's ok," Arabella answered appreciatively. "I cried and cried. My father never told me how he died; it was a business accident, supposedly. But I am not aloud to mention his name anymore. My father does not approve. Not right, he says, Simon was not a true Ostivia."

Draco saw her eyes narrow, the blue spark intensifying behind her eyelashes. Draco knew, as he knew she knew, that whatever happened to Simon was no business accident. Draco's mind told him to reach out and cradle Arabella's shivering form, to tell her that everything was ok, that things would be better for her, but he could not lie. Instead he shuffled closer, feeling her shoulders lean against him as he placed his hand on the top of hers, and they sat together in silence as Draco tried to console her as best he could without being able to form the words he so wanted to say.