New Life, True Magic, and Death at the Door

Draco awoke the next morning to a heavy pounding on the door to his room. "Whaaat?" he managed to groan, turning over and covering his head with a pillow. He sat up when he heard Professor Snape hissing through the door, "Just thought I'd tell you that breakfast is almost over, Mr. Malfoy, and in case you'd forgotten, you're supposed to be helping me out here. It's not like it's any trouble for me to be putting you up in my home," he added in a sarcastic tone, and then resumed pounding on the door.

Draco scrambled out of bed and rushed over to let Snape in and apologize. He was astonished to see that the door wasn't locked, why hadn't Snape just come in, then? When he opened the door, he was prepared to defend himself until he saw something completely out of the ordinary. Professor Snape was actually laughing! Apparently, he had only been joking when he was banging at the door. Draco looked over at an ornate grandfather clock next to one of the walls in the room Snape was in, it was only eight o 'clock. Classes didn't start for another hour. He was confused, which made Snape laugh even harder. "Oh, come on, Draco," he said good-naturedly, "can't you take a little joke? I couldn't let you sleep all day! I needed to talk to you about the schedule and I've arranged for us to have breakfast here. The elves should be here any minute."

At that moment, Draco heard a soft knocking at the door of Snape's apartment. He made his way over and opened it. Looking up and down the hallway, he saw nothing for a moment, until he heard a gasp near his feet and had the sense to look down. There, standing before him, was a small house elf wearing a sweater that was obviously too big for it, and it seemed to Draco that he had seen this particular house elf someplace before. "Oh, please," it squeaked, "don't be hurting, Dobby, s-sir!" A flood of realization swept over Draco, this had been his family's house-elf for years, until Harry had set him free. Draco had not witnessed the occasion, but his father had heatedly described it to him. Draco was afraid that Dobby would run away until he heard Snape's voice behind him, "Ah, Dobby, good to see you. Perhaps you'd like to come inside and sit with us for a moment." Draco knew better than to speak now, and he followed Professor Snape and Dobby inside where Snape had a seat on a comfortable chaise, and Dobby set down the food on a low table and stood wringing his small hat between his hands.

Snape looked at Draco expectantly, his eyes saying what his mouth would not in the presence of Dobby. "What? Do I need to spell it out for you? If you've become a totally new person, prove it. Now." Draco excused himself and ran into his room. He flew open his trunk, and after a few moments of digging around, found exactly what he was looking for and returned to Snape and Dobby, who seemed surprised by his behavior to say the least.

"Dobby," Draco said, kneeling in front of him, "I have something for you." Draco felt Dobby's childlike gaze boring into him, and he held out what he had taken from his trunk. "I made this badge for my mother when I was four. It's enchanted to show the name of the wearer in the color of their choice. I hope you will forgive me for the way I treated you in the past. I'm not the same person anymore, I hope I can prove that to you, Dobby. She doesn't need it, anymore, and I know it's not much, but I thought you would like it," he said, a hint of anxiety in his voice. What if Dobby didn't want to be friends with him? He wouldn't blame him, after all he'd put that little house-elf through.

Dobby stood there for a moment, flabbergasted by Draco's generosity. "M-master Draco wants to give Dobby a present? Dobby has never had a badge, before!" He squeaked, tears filling his large eyes. "Dobby will wear it always!" With that, the little house-elf took the badge from Draco's outstretched hand and placed it on his sweater. Draco looked into Dobby's eyes, "You do me too much, honor, Dobby," he said sincerely, "I want you to know from here on out I am your friend, as I hope you are mine." This was more than the little elf could take. He burst out into tears, saying, "Yes sir! Dobby is Draco's friend for always! Dobby is done too much honor, sir!" and Dobby made his way out of Snape's apartments, studying his new badge while Professor Snape and Draco sat down at the place settings he had laid out for them and prepared to have their breakfast.

"That was more than I had expected from you," Professor Snape said, pouring a glass of pumpkin juice, "I must say, I'm very proud, Draco." Draco smiled at the Professor, he thought to himself how glad he was that he had seen the light, so to speak. It seemed like he was so much happier this way. "Now," Snape said, "down to business. The only class you will have with the Slytherins will be Potions, during which time, you will be acting as my assistant, therefore, you will not be forced to associate with them. That class is shared with the Gryffindors, and I assure you I will see to it that if you are ever forced to work with a partner, it will be someone in that house. I must tell you, Draco, the only real reason I'm head of Slytherin house is because I'm the only faculty member at Hogwarts who is an alumni of that house. I, like you, have repented my ways as a Death Eater, but we all have prices to pay for our choices, no matter how trivial or long ago. You will also be helping me teach some of the younger classes. Since this is an unsure time, Headmaster Dumbledore and I have decided that I should be available to perform certain tasks the Ministry may require, so you may be called to fill in my teaching position from time to time. Because of this, you don't have a set schedule. You will attend other classes when Dumbledore and I have no need for you, which may not be often, so there's no telling what you'll be attending, so long as it's not with the Slytherins. Fortunately for you," Snape said, smiling again (this was something Draco would have to get used to), "you're very intelligent, and it won't hurt you to miss so much class." Snape's smile disappeared suddenly, and Draco was taken back at his next words, "If you tell anyone that, I'll have to kill you." Draco gulped, and Snape broke into a grin again, "You really need to lighten up, it's a tough year ahead of us. Now, eat it up, we both have a long day." And the two of them finished their breakfast in contemplation, Draco wondering how he was going to manage this year, Snape wondering how much he and Dumbledore really were going to have to rely on the young man.

* * * * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way to the Great Hall early the next morning, sure that they would see Professor Dumbledore at breakfast. To their dismay, he was not there when they arrived, nor was he there the entire time. The three awaited eagerly for his arrival, but as the students came and went getting ready for their first day of lessons, there was no sign of Dumbledore.

Hermione had had quite enough. "That's it," she said decisively, "I'll just go ask Professor McGonagall where he is." Ron looked at her disbelievingly, she never ceased to surprise him, and broke into a smile. "It's about time you thought of pulling your position of Head Girl," he said, giving her a wry grin. "Oh, you!" she spat back at him, "not everyone has to resort to the same tactics you would use yourself! That thought hadn't even occurred to me, Ron Weasley!" With that, she stood up and made her way up to the Staff Table, and began to inquire from Professor McGonagall (her personal hero) as to the whereabouts of their Headmaster. McGonagall seemed not to be fooled, and gave a stern look in the boys direction as she answered Hermione's query. The two boys suppressed the urge to laugh at Hermione as she humbly made her way back to where they were sitting, a puzzled expression playing upon her face.

"Professor McGonagall says that he went to have breakfast at The Three Broomsticks with Madame Rosmerta and his great-grandniece," she said slowly. Harry almost choked on his pumpkin juice as Ron's fork clattered on his plate. "Did either of you know he even had any relatives?" The three then buried themselves into a heated discussion on Dumbledore's family history and did not even notice when the Great Hall emptied and nine o' clock announced itself from every clock in the castle. They were still discussing this when they did not even notice the footsteps approaching them.

"Well, well, well," the three of them stopped all discussion when they heard the voice, but were afraid to turn around. Whoever it was, they sounded an awful lot like Professor Snape, "only the first day of school and my hooligans are already missing class!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione spun around and found themselves face to face with Professor Dumbledore! "Gotcha," he said, chuckling. The three of them each found themselves releasing huge sighs of relief. "We thought you were--someone else," Hermione said, then looking at her watch and becoming horrified all over again, "Oh, no! It's already half-past nine! We're insanely late for Potions and Snape's going to kill us!" The three of them started to scramble trying to get their books together while Dumbledore calmly looked on.

"Don't worry," he said, motioning for them to sit down, "I've already spoken to Severus and he knows you'll be missing your lesson today." The three broke into smiles. "But," Dumbledore continued, giving them a stern look, "he was adamant that you found some way to make up for it." The smiles disappeared. "The three of you will have detention with him this evening, and I'm sure he will find plenty for you to do. However, that's not what I'm here to talk to you about. I understand the three of you wanted to see me?" He looked at them expectantly, and held up his hand when Harry tried to speak. "Not here. I told Severus that you three would be holding a conference with me in my study, so we had better hold me true to my word. Follow me."

The three of them were a bit puzzled by this. Why did it matter where they were with Dumbledore so long as they were with him? He was the Headmaster, after all. Why couldn't he just tell Snape that plans had been changed and that they would be talking in the Great Hall? Unless, of course, they were to be talking about something that no one else was supposed to hear. They reached Dumbledore's study at last. He spoke the password, and they made their way up the stairs and into his study. They entered the room where just last night they had forged a friendship with Draco Malfoy, and each of them let out a shocked gasp at what they saw.

"Hello, Harry, Ron, Hermione," Bette said, smiling, and they could all see the resemblance she carried to her great-great Uncle. "I've so looked forward to meeting you thee at last. I'm Bette Constan, or, as you might remember me from our conference last night, the owl Bette." Each of them felt something different as they shook hands with Bette.

Hermione was first. For the first time in her life, she felt a slight twinge of jealousy. Here was the one girl on the planet who could rival Hermione's natural gift as a witch, and on top of that, she was an Animagi and Dumbledore's niece. Hermione felt a little bit threatened by all of this, wondering what Ron and Harry thought of Bette, but all of her doubts and fears were pushed aside in the next instant, as Bette pulled her into a close hug, whispering in her ear, "Oh, how I've always longed to meet you, Hermione. You have no idea how much I admire everything about you." As Hermione looked Bette in the eyes, she knew that she was sincere, and the two girls couldn't help but become fast friends.

Ron's turn came next. Bette turned to him and gave him a smile that would have melted any boy's heart, had he not been so infatuated with Hermione. No one knew this, of course. He and Hermione had done well to keep their feelings for each other a secret. They both thought that Harry might have some idea, but since Harry didn't mention it, neither of them ever brought it up, either. Ron heard Bette's voice inside his head, the world seemed to slow down, and Harry, Hermione, and Dumbledore didn't seem to notice that she was speaking to him with her mind. "Ron," she was smiling, "I can see why Hermione cares about you so much. You're both very lucky to have each other. I've had the pleasure of seeing you distinguish yourself here at Hogwarts, and I can't wait to see what you do with the rest of your life. You've always been my favorite Weasley." Ron actually got teary-eyed, but again, no one seemed to notice but Bette. She had complimented him more in one instant than he was used to from anyone, and it meant so much to him because looking into her eyes, he knew that she had meant every word. Then he saw her wink mischievously at him, and heard her say aloud, "I hear you're the best Chess Player here. We'll just have to see about that!" Everyone laughed good-naturedly at that comment. The three friends wondering if this was another thing she excelled at, Dumbledore knowing that his great-grandniece was possibly the worst Chess Player on the face of the planet.

Finally, Bette turned to Harry, and everyone wondered what she would say to him. People always tended to react strangely when they first met him, their eyes always wandering to his forehead, to his scar. Bette simply smiled and stuck out her hand, "Heya, Harry. Good to meet you!" Harry was almost ecstatic. She was the second person in the world, next to Dumbledore, who had greeted him like a normal person. Remembering back to his first train ride to Hogwarts, Harry laughed inwardly at his best friends' antics. Harry smiled as he took Bette's hand and they shook, knowing that she was a person all her own, and that they would be very good friends.

Dumbledore looked at the four young adults he had watched grow so much over the years. Bette, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all turned to look at him now that their introductions were over. He smiled, "Well, does that answer your questions?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other, and then back up at Dumbledore. He knew Hermione was about to speak, and held up his hands, "I'm afraid we don't have the time, now, as the four of you each have things you need to be doing. Harry, Ron, Hermione, I told Severus that you wouldn't miss his entire class, so you might want to be there for the second half, don't you think?" The three started their way out of the office and turned around, puzzled at his next words. "Bette, you and I had better go help set up your Dueling Theatre, don't you think?" Dumbledore shooed Harry, Ron, and Hermione down the stairs as he and Bette followed, "No, no, I can't tell you. That would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?"

* * * * *

Bette followed her Uncle Dumbledore out through the halls of the castle and onto a spot on the grounds in a far corner, on the other side of the forbidden forest, hidden from view. "Now," Dumbledore said as they rounded the trees, "I haven't seen your staging arena since before the elves put the final touches on it, but I left Dobby in charge, so I'm sure it's almost as good as you had hoped for." Bette gasped as she made her first appraisal of her staging arena. "Oh, no," she said, covering her mouth with her hand, "it's so much better than I could have imagined!"

Bette took a full five minutes looking over her arena. The elves had cut a large pit into the earth, so that one actually descended into the theatre rather than entering and climbing to a seat. The seats were stone all around, but when sat upon, a cushion would magically appear. There were five seating sections altogether; one for each House, with the cushions in the House colors, and another section for the staff and special guests, with the cushions bearing the Hogwarts coat-of-arms. Bette finally made her way down to where the Dueling would actually take place. It was a small island about 35 yards in diameter, complete with a bubbling brook (and bridge, of course) for its moat. For, on the island, there appeared to be ruins of a very small castle, replete with crumbling walls, arched doorways, stairs leading into the air, and small hedges all around. Bette had asked that it be magicked so that members of the audience could see the players at all times. She stood behind a wall and called out to her Uncle, "can you see me? Does it work?" But Dumbledore did not answer her straight away. Bette took out her wand and started to grow a climbing ivy on one of the arched doorways while she tried to think of why her Uncle hadn't answered her question. Then it hit her, he had gotten an owl post that morning from Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, saying that he would be visiting the school that day to check up on things. Bette remembered what Dumbledore had told her--this would be the first of many difficult tasks she must perform throughout the year. She had to charm Lucius Malfoy, make him see her as a possible tool, but one that he could only wield with perfect skill, and she had to do it in any way she could. Bette knew what to do.

Lucius Malfoy stood at the top of the arena with the Headmaster. Malfoy was furious, even though Dumbledore assured him it was experimental and was being paid for out of his own pocket, instead of the school's expenses. He turned away from Dumbledore and started angrily down the stone side to the ruins when something caught his eye and he stopped, halfway. He saw a young woman with her back turned to him and long golden hair slip out of her rich black robes. He almost felt a pang of guilt when he thought he might be spying on her changing unawares, but then he noticed what she had been wearing underneath her robes. She had on a fine silk shirt of the deepest purple tucked into her tight ivory leggings (which left very little to the imagination) and black dragon-hide boots that came almost to her knees. Lucius Malfoy couldn't help but admire the grace of her body; those long legs, the hair, the way she moved, all of them drew his attention. Bette bent over, fixing the lacings on one of her boots, and Lucius knew he had been staring when he felt Dumbledore standing beside him once more.

"So," he sneered, trying to hide his embarrassment, "this is why you've taken up this ridiculous excuse for a sport. I didn't think you were that type." To his surprise, Dumbledore said nothing, but started down to the island, motioning that he was to be followed. Lucius trailed behind, keeping his eye on Bette as she continued to be occupied with her boots, until they reached the bottom and the wall that had been between them suddenly obstructed his view of her. Lucius turned to him as Dumbledore spoke, "I'm very sorry, but I wasn't expecting you at this time, and there are some items that still need my attention before this afternoon." At this point the Headmaster cleared his throat and shouted in the direction of Bette, "Mademoiselle Constan, would you please come over here?" Then he turned once more to Lucius, "I'm flattered that you think I could still keep up with the young, but I must assure you that Bette is not here for the first reason your mind conjured. This young woman has had immense problems in her life, and I'd like to help her land on her feet, nothing more. I ask that you treat her with the same respect you would afford me."

At that moment, Bette had rounded the last corner of the ruins and now came upon the two men. Dumbledore spoke first, "Miss Constan, this is Lucius Malfoy, of the school's Board of Governors. I ask that you demonstrate your game to him, and invite him to this evening's presentation. Now, if you two will excuse me, I am needed elsewhere." With that, he retreated, leaving them to their own devices, watching his back as he made his way up the stone steps and over the side, out of sight. Bette turned to Lucius and smiled up at him. "So," she said, "I take it I'm to make a believer out of you, Mr. Malfoy." He looked down at her and let out a bored sigh, but she thought she saw his eyes roving over her legs for a split instant. Bette decided to go for it.

"Well," she stepped closer to him, "normally I would have you give it a shot yourself, but it seems you're not dressed properly. I find that robes tend to get in my way." She looked him straight in the eyes, and gave a wink so subtle that at first she didn't think he had seen, so she continued. "I don't suppose you'd be up to a game with me, anyhow." She let her tongue graze her top lip slightly. "I tend to play pretty rough." She turned around and made out like she was going to walk away when she felt his hand on her wrist. He had taken the bait. "Before I win," he said, turning her back around to face him, "don't you think you had better inform me of the rules?" Bette knew he was baited.

"First," she stepped closer to him, and reached up to unbutton the top button on his robes, letting her fingers softly slip against his skin. "You don't want to be wearing this. It's hindering, take it off." She turned around and walked away from him, keeping her back turned, but making sure by her subtle movements that he kept his eyes on her as he de-robed. She turned back around, and, sure enough, he was wearing all black underneath. For a man of his age, he was certainly in shape, and she knew she had to be careful. "We will transfigure our wands into what I've termed a swand, a cross between our wands and a weapon known as a sword. There's a Muggle sport known as fencing, which involves two people trying to strike each other with the tip of their weapon. When a good strike is made, points are issued. This game is similar, but when one player strikes another player with their swand, they may utter one of a number of approved curses. A successful strike and curse earns that player a point. The first player to five points, wins. Do you think you're ready to play me?"

"Sounds challenging enough," Malfoy said, pulling out his wand. "Why don't we make a friendly wager on our little match? The first person to make a strike and curse, wins." Malfoy watched as Bette seemed to contemplate the odds. She had been sitting on one of the walls that only reached waist level when she described the rules to him, but when he had spoken, she had reclined and now was laying on her back. It was all he could do not to walk over to her and take her by force. He knew he had to win. Finally, she asked, "and what does the winner receive?" Lucius walked over to where she lay and put his hand on her stomach, she did not move. This encouraged him. "You know what I want," he said, slipping his hand down to the inside of her thigh and letting it rest there. He watched her face as he did this. Her eyes were closed, and she emitted a bit of a sigh as his hand moved over her and he felt her hips raise ever so slightly, but then she sat up quickly and faced him. "I'm afraid I can't wager that," she said, "I'm not willing to bet something so dear to me as my virginity over one simple strike. For all I know, you could get lucky." She smiled at him, "However, would a kiss suffice? After all, it's only one strike, and you won't win, anyway."

Lucius Malfoy glared at her and handed her his wand. She took it and her own, and crossed them over each other, muttering something he couldn't hear. To his astonishment, they both grew in size to be about one and a half arm's lengths. She tossed him his and stood before him, her swand raised. "On guard!" she said, with an evil grin as she started her attack. It was magnificent. Bette had trained for years as a Muggle in the art of swordplay, and, as the saying goes, was a true artist. It seemed that Lucius could hold his own, and they fought all over the island. Most of the time, it was Bette retreating. Lucius would chase her up steps, around and over hedges, and under archways, all the while just hoping to make that strike. Finally, they came to be in the center of the ruins, there were two opposite corners, and Lucius had Bette in one of them. He was about to make the winning strike when she made her glorious counter attack. She drove him all the way back, until he was cornered on the opposite side. With one final lunge, she struck him in the chest and shouted, "Immobulus!" Lucius was frozen, the only thing holding him up was the wall behind him. He could still feel, but all he could do was blink. And watch.

Bette smiled. "Looks like I won," she said, laying down her swand. "Now, I'd like you to do something for me. I've never actually used this curse on another person before, so I'd like to ask a few questions. Blink once for 'no' and twice for 'yes' if you would, please." Blink, blink. "Good! Are you hurt?" Blink. "Glad to hear it. Can you feel anything?" She reached out, and ran her finger along the inside of his palm. "Like that? Can you feel that?" Blink, blink. "Excellent." She moved closer to him, and stood by his side, leaning against the wall, herself. She took her hand and ran it firmly along the inside of his leg. "Do you know what I want for winning?" She was whispering in his ear now, and she bit it softly. "Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't watching for your answer!" She now moved right in front of him, and was pressing her entire body against his. "Now, remember, this is for posterity, so please be honest. Do you know what I want for winning?" Blink. "Oh, silly! You know what I want!" With that she kissed him full on the lips. Bette closed her eyes, and pictured Draco. It was the only way she could do it.

She pulled away and looked Lucius Malfoy straight in the eyes. Just the night before, Bette had been given her first kiss by his son, and now, duty called for her to do what she must to make him an instrument for her, or at least buy her safety for a time. So, looking at him, Bette pulled out her wand, no longer in its swand form, and pointed it at his chest. "Let's play the blinking game again, just a moment longer," she said, and he blinked twice. "Now," she continued, "I want to make something clear. When I release you, you will not try anything suspicious for any reason. I won fair and square. Agree?" She watched him closely, he blinked once, and then seemed to wait to gage her reaction. Bette lowered her wand to the spot between his legs, "I admire your courage in this state. But I will only ask one more time. Do you agree?" Lucius Malfoy blinked once and paused for a split second. Bette took a deep breath and started to mutter a curse when she saw him the second time. "Good," she said, "it's nice that you know where you stand. One more thing and then I'll let you go. You and I will keep this strictly between us, don't you agree?" She saw him blink twice and then muttered the counter-curse.

Lucius Malfoy stumbled slightly when he was released, then rose to his full height. He glared at Bette menacingly, but she thought she saw something else in his eyes as well. Bette knew she had started a dangerous game, but she also knew that she must see it through to its end, she was no quitter. She stared back at Lucius, looked him up and down, making sure he noticed the taste of his own medicine, then smiled, turned, and walked away. He watched her until she was gone. Lucius had never been so excited by any woman, this one had certainly kept him on his toes. He was used to getting things he wanted, and as he watched Bette walk away, he knew that her prize was something he had to have. He brushed himself off, and decided against staying the afternoon. He walked out of the arena, off Hogwarts grounds, and Apparated back to Malfoy Mansion. All the while, he thought of her.