New Life, True Magic, and Death at the Door

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had not gone back to Gryffindor Tower immediately as Dumbledore had told them to. They had to let Hagrid know the truth, they had promised. The three of them realized what they must have looked like to Draco when they saw Hagrid's expression. Ron couldn't help but laugh. "Poor Draco! People he's supposed to trust looking at him like he's crazy!" Hermione made Hagrid swear not to tell anyone what he knew about Draco, and not to treat Draco himself in any way out of the ordinary. "Alrigh'," he said absentmindedly, for it was actually quite late and he had been busy all day, "alrigh', Hermione. I'll do wha' yeh say. Now you three should be headin' up to yer beds, don' yeh think?" With that, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way from Hagrid's cabin back up to the castle.

Halfway across the lawn, Harry pointed into the sky. "Hey, guys, isn't that Dumbledore's owl?" Ron and Hermione looked up, and, sure enough, Bette was flying through the air, into an open window they knew wasn't Dumbledore's.

"I'll bet," Ron said, "that bird, being Dumbledore's, never gets a moment's rest."

Hermione stopped walking, and the two almost bumped into her. "Harry, Ron," she said, lost in thought, "do you suppose? I mean, do you remember when Draco said he thought she wasn't just any ordinary bird? And Dumbledore isn't just an ordinary wizard. The three of us have been in his office quite a lot in our years here at Hogwarts, and do either of you recall seeing Bette before?" There was a silence as they all thought about this. Hermione continued, "Dumbledore's never owned an owl as far as any of us can remember. Why would he have one now? And why this particular owl? I think--I think Bette is an Animagus!" She said excitedly. Both boys looked at her for a moment. Then Harry spoke, "do you think Dumbledore knows?"

Hermione started to speak, but Ron interrupted, "How could he not? Besides, we can talk to him about it tomorrow. In case you two have forgotten," he gave them each a mischievous look, "we're not supposed to be out and about roaming the grounds. And Hermione! You, as Head Girl, should really know better!" Harry and Hermione could not argue with Ron's logic, so the three of them, chuckling quietly, continued on their way back up to the castle, into Gryffindor Tower, and up to their rooms, where they spent the rest of the night in silence, and waited for their next opportunity to speak to Dumbledore alone.

* * * * *

Draco and Bette finally pulled apart. Neither of them knew how much time had passed, but at this point, they couldn't bring themselves to care. To them, at that moment, they were the only souls in the universe, and they could spend eternity in each other's company at the blink of an eye. Draco looked down at his beautiful guardian. Her hair was no longer as neat and orderly as it had been, looking somewhat tousled, but he loved the fact that it never had looked quite pristine. He noticed for the first time what she was wearing. She had on all black, a black cotton shell that seemed to fit her in just the right way, it was neither too tight nor too loose, and black cotton pajama pants that went down to the middle of her calf, like clam-diggers. It seemed she had never looked more beautiful when Draco remembered what he had worn to bed. He looked down and he was only in his boxers.

He looked back up at Bette; she was smiling. "It's okay," she said, "as you can see," she placed her hand on his bare chest, "I'm not exactly," she began to run it down to his stomach, and then to where his boxers sat on his waist, "dressed for the occasion," she gently ran her finger alongside the inside of his boxers up against his skin, "either."

Draco's face contorted in agony. He quickly sat back down on his bed and grabbed his pillow, placing it on top of his lap. "I'm so sorry, Bette," he said quickly, looking very pale. "I think maybe we should say goodnight."

"What is it?" she asked, very concerned. "What's wrong, Draco? Are you okay?"

She sat down next to him and placed her hand on his shoulder lovingly. Draco almost couldn't take it, he felt as if he were about to burst. Obviously, she didn't realize what she was capable of. Maybe it was better that way, he thought, but then decided that he wanted to be completely honest with her at all times. This was a woman who had saved his skin on more than one occasion, the least he could do was tell her the truth. He looked into her deep green eyes, thought of the right words to say, and took a deep breath. "Bette, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. It's just that--well, I like you a lot. And not just like. I don't want you to be uncomfortable, but you're the first woman I've ever loved, wanted, needed." Bette didn't seem to understand, and Draco blushed as he said his next words, "my friend, here, under the pillow?" She still didn't get it. Draco could almost laugh at her innocence if he hadn't been so embarrassed. "Bette, you made me have an erection."

Draco could see the light bulb go off in her head. Bette smiled at him wickedly, "Oh, Draco! Honest! I didn't mean to!" She giggled. Draco couldn't help but smile, how did she do it? He tried to speak, but she held her fingers to his lips, eyes on fire. He kissed them, and she sat up on her knees, leaning over to kiss him gently on the lips. They continued kissing as she made her way onto the pillow that was still sitting in his lap. Draco let escape a moan of pleasure, and Bette pulled away to look at him. She smiled, and ran her fingers along the edge of his face; he still had his eyes closed. Then she felt beneath her what he had been so embarrassed about and let out a surprised gasp before she could help herself. Draco's eyes shot open, but this time, he wasn't as uncomfortable as he had been before, and he gave her a roguish smile. This surprised her, and she moved to get back up. "I'm sorry, Draco, I should go and try to save you from yourself," she said, apologetically. To her astonishment, Draco's strong hands reached out and grabbed her almost roughly by the hips, and he pulled her quickly back down on top of the pillow in his lap. She tried to admonish him, "Drac--" but his lips were on hers before she could utter another sound.

She let him kiss her fiercely, and she kissed him back with the same fervor. He opened her mouth with his tongue, and she slipped hers back into his mouth in return. He hadn't expected this aggression from her, she could tell, so she kept going. She ran her tongue underneath his, and then swept along the back of his teeth from one side of his mouth to the other. She felt him mirror her efforts, and then remembered she had to breathe. She pulled away from him slowly, nibbling on his lip at the last bit, and looked into his eyes. Bette felt his hand drift from where it had been on her side to her back, where he slipped it under her shirt and was gently drawing circles with his finger in the small of her back. She bit her lip to keep herself from doing something as rash as what he had just done. Draco smiled up at her innocently, "Oh, Bette! Honest! I didn't mean to! Besides," he now wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her even closer into a hug, speaking into her soft hair, "no one can save me from myself, not even you." He drew back her hair and kissed her softly on the neck. "Okay," he said, "I suppose now I can let you go. Forgive me for my bad manners. You should think more about saving yourself from me," he said with a smile.

They got up from his bed and walked over to the window. Bette was about to transfigure herself into owl form when he stopped her. He took her two hands into his own, bent down, and kissed each of her palms in turn. She shivered, how did he do that? Then he stood back and watched as she turned herself into her owl form and flew out into the night. Draco didn't know where she went, but he watched her until he could no longer see her in the sky. He drew a sharp intake of breath, the sky! There was a hint of gold on the horizon, and he couldn't see the moon for the light gray that now covered the cloudless expanse. They had spent many hours together in what seemed like a matter of minutes! Sighing happily, Draco walked back over to his bed and fell facedown into the pillows, asleep before he even made contact.

* * * * *

Bette's heart soared as she flew across the early morning sky . . .

She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep after everything that she and Draco had just shared. Draco was her first kiss, her first love; she would do anything for him, and Bette knew that he felt exactly the same way about her. When she lived with her Muggle parents, Bette had wondered how two separate people could bind themselves to each other for an eternity, but at the same time, she had often desired that bond for herself. Now she knew she had found it, and her convictions for protecting Draco Malfoy were stronger than ever.

. . . Back to her position that she and her Uncle had worked out.

Bette took out her quill and parchment and started writing Madame Rosmerta a note. Madame Rosmerta, or Rose-mama, as Bette fondly liked to call her, was owner and procurator of The Three Broomsticks Inn in Hogsmeade, the wizarding village near Hogwarts. Rosmerta and Dumbledore went way back, which was why he entrusted her with such precious cargo as his great-grandniece. She was to be Bette's alibi and her story for arriving in Hogsmeade and at Hogwarts.

According to the witches and wizards of the village, Bette had arrived in Hogsmeade at the start of the summer, looking quite ragged and worn. Apparently, she had already written to Madame Rosmerta enquiring after a job, and Rosmerta consented, telling her customers that she had a soft spot for vagrants. The story Rosmerta told was so convincing, and so sad, that everyone promised not to make any mention of the girl's past life once she arrived at the village.

Rosmerta told them that Bette had been raised in a number of homes over the years. She had been found seventeen years ago, left at the London train station between platforms nine and ten. By chance, a wizarding family had found her, and took her in, not knowing if she had any magical powers or not. They raised her with their own, but did not show her any love, thinking that she was most likely a Muggle. Once she felt old enough, she came to resent this treatment, knowing what she truly possessed, she only chose to hide it, afraid of what it might bring. She had thought that if it hadn't been for her magic, perhaps her real parents would have wanted her. She remembered how one of the older children of the family had been informed of acceptance into Hogwarts, and she realized she had to leave before she, also, received one of those letters and the family found out that she had been fooling them all these years. (They often punished her severely if they thought she had been deceitful to them, and this would be considered a monstrosity on her part.) On the night of her supposed eleventh birthday (she, alas, did not know her real one) she ran away from her family. It was just two weeks into August, but she knew it gave her plenty of time to get far enough away before her parents discovered her secret. She made her way aboard a liner that was headed for America, and thought she was home free until three days into her journey. That morning, she woke up to find two owls in the cabin she had procured for herself. One was for an American Academy of Magic on the East Coast, and the other was from Hogwarts. She no sooner had opened the envelopes and sent the owls away when a foreboding knock came at her door. It was a Wizard. He had noticed her on the ship and knew what she must be. He was a Dark Wizard, and knew that she was just what he wanted. He took her with him by force, and she was his slave in America for five years. No one could find her because he had placed an enchantment around his mansion that did not allow for anyone of the magical world to realize she was there. And he made sure that the Muggles of his town thought she was his emotionally disturbed granddaughter, and all took pity on the man for having to deal with such a worrisome lot. In fact, all of the Magical World thought he had died, when in fact, he was just in hiding. He treated her so badly, Rosmerta told her listeners, that she would not even talk about her life there. Finally, the young witch managed to escape, and she quickly made her way back to England, where she had been searching for a home for the past year, living on the streets. She had heard of Dumbledore, and wrote to him asking for his help. He had agreed to tutor her so she could catch up with the rest of the witches and wizards of her age. She was quite bright, actually, and had been studying on her own whenever she got the chance, Dumbledore was really more like a mentor, pointing her in the right directions. He had helped her make arrangements with Madame Rosmerta to work in exchange for room and board. And that was how she had arrived in Hogsmeade. The villagers took a liking to her immediately. She was extremely kind, and they couldn't help but include her in their lives day to day as they got to know her at the Inn.

Rose-mama, I had a long day yesterday. I'm sorry if I'm not up when you read this, I feel as if I could sleep a week. If you really need me this morning, just come and wake me up. But, if not, thanks for letting me sleep! I'll make up any work that might build up in my own time. Love, Bette.

Bette slipped the note under her door and instinctively knew that Rosmerta would let her sleep in. They had become extremely close over the summer and were like two sisters, almost. Except that Rose-mama was considerably older than her charge. Bette couldn't wait to tell her about Draco, she knew Rosmerta would be very happy for her, owing to the fact that Bette had not known any witches and wizards her age until this summer. Her own story was almost as sad as the one that Uncle Albus, Rosmerta, and she had formulated for Rosmerta to tell the unsuspecting villagers. She was also excited about finally becoming involved at Hogwarts.

She had told her Uncle that she had invented a new game that could be established first at Hogwarts. She had called it Dual-Dueling. It was a mixture of the Muggle sport played with swords called Fencing and the Wizarding version of a duel. The wizard or witch would take their wand, transfiguring it into a larger size, still holding its same proportions, and maintaining a light weight. They would then use the wands as swords, and when a strike would be made, the one who struck could curse the other player. The match was then to be given to the first person to make five successful strikes and curses. She had arranged it with her Uncle a month ago, she was to teach this new sport at Hogwarts, giving her a reason to be up there as an extra protection. It was a one-on-one sport, a good alternative for Quidditch because the houses could choose who would represent them, so long as they weren't Quidditch players, so it would be open to students not on the house teams. Actually, they hadn't planned on restricting the Quidditch players, but when they discovered that Draco had left home and changed loyalties, they decided it would be another way of protecting him. He could play D-D, and wouldn't have to explain to anyone that why he wasn't playing Quidditch was for his personal safety. As a Seeker, he would have to worry about his own team members neglecting his safety, particularly Crabbe and Goyle, his Beaters. She would just have to convince Draco that he should play as a Dueler instead of Seeker, but, judging from last night, she didn't think it would be too hard. Bette smiled, remembering his hands running through her hair, climbed into bed, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * * * *

Madame Rosmerta woke up and found Bette's note. She read it and smiled to herself. "That Dumbledore," she chuckled, "he works her harder than I do!" She stopped outside Bette's room on her way down to the kitchen, and pushed it open just a tad to check on her. She saw the girl curled up on her bed, fast asleep, with her hair all over the pillows and a hint of a smile on her lips. "Well," thought Rosmerta, "I'll just have to ask her how pleasant her dreams were when she wakes up later!" She closed the door softly and made her way downstairs to get started for the day ahead.

Rosmerta was just pulling a fresh loaf of bread out of the large oven when she heard Bette's door open upstairs and bare feet coming down the staircase. She turned around just in time to see Bette burst into the kitchen with a broad grin and her eyes sparkling. "Well, Sleeping Beauty! Would you care to tell Rose-mama what's making you smile like that even in your dreams?" Bette's fair skin blushed very easily, and this morning was no exception, which only made Rosmerta more curious, and she pressed Bette until she agreed to share the good news. "Alright, Rose-mama," she said, still grinning, "since you're not going to let this one drop, I'll tell you. I'm in love." Rosmerta clapped her hands and took the girl into her arms, screaming like a madwoman until they heard a knock at the door.

Rosmerta and Bette left the kitchen and came out into the restaurant, giggling like schoolgirls. Rosmerta opened the door, "Well, hello, Dumbledore," she beamed, "you're just in time to hear the good news!" She hadn't noticed Bette go quiet and draw her finger across her neck in a cutthroat motion. Bette hadn't thought about what her Uncle would say about her and Draco, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She stepped around the door to say good morning to her Uncle as he stepped inside, and the moment she saw him, she could tell he already knew. Albus Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and gave her a smile, his blue eyes twinkling. "Well, my darling girl," he said, "I suppose this can only mean you're in love." Rosmerta gasped, asking, "Dumbledore! How did you guess?" Bette wanted to dig herself into a hole from embarrassment, but then she realized that these were two people who cared for her and would not judge her over her feelings for Draco. They made their way into the kitchen and sat down to the warm bread Rosmerta had just finished baking with pumpkin preserves and tall glasses of chilled milk. "I must say," Dumbledore said between bites, "that I think Draco Malfoy is a very fortunate young man."

"Why would that be?" Rosmerta asked, puzzled. Dumbledore turned to look at her and tilted his ancient head in Bette's direction with a slight wink. Rosmerta looked at Bette's cheeks turning red again and her lips turning into a smile, and the realization finally dawned on her. "Oh, my little Bette!" She gasped, clutching her hand to her chest. "Why didn't you say so before?!" Dumbledore and Bette laughed heartily as Rosmerta sat there clutching her chest. "Because," Bette said when she had started breathing normally again, "I knew that you would react like that!" And the three of them finished their breakfasts, full of smiles.