Trading Magic for Fact

There's reason to believe,
Maybe this year will be better than the last.
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass.

Hermione looked at the silver hair barrette in front of her. “You want me to what?” she asked, looking at the girl sitting across from her. She didn’t bother whispering in the library. There was no one there at this hour on a Saturday. Not during the holidays.

Vange had brought her here under the premise of an ordinary walk, but now she sat alone at a small study table with Divia Llewellyn.

“Transfigure it for me,” the Slytherin repeated. “It’s extremely important, and I know you’ve got the highest marks in McGonagall’s class.”

Hermione shrugged. “Why don’t you just do it? You can change yourself into me and that’s much more complicated.” She was still wary of the girl, despite what Vange had told her.

“Look, Granger, I already asked Gabriel, but he refused to do this for me.” She rolled her eyes. “He won’t help me unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“And you think I will?”

“I’m hoping you will. To change myself I use Glamour spells, mere illusions, though strong ones. I can’t transfigure much, and I can’t conjure anything.” She nodded at Hermione’s look of near astonishment. “Ah, yes, not so perfect. I’m fairly intelligent in my own right, so most of my classes are doable, but Transfiguration is rather hopeless. Dumbledore knows that, and so I’m exempt from the class. If I tried to do this today, I’d surely suffer from some sort of a brain hemorrhage. So please, help me.”

There was a silence between them as the Gryffindor studied the barrette some more. “What do you want it to be then?”

Divia smiled happily. “A ring with knot-work all around and a letter D in the centre. It should be thick too, not girly.”

Hermione nodded and tapped the barrette with her wand. “I hope Malfoy likes it,” she muttered when it was finished.

“I’m sure he will,” replied Divia, standing. “Now, anything said today is information I’d like to be kept quiet…perhaps you can try not even telling Potter or Weasley.”

“If I do keep quiet?”

“I can offer you whatever you need from Snape’s stores. You won’t be at risk sneaking about because I’ll get you what you want.”

“Agreed.”

“Great,” she said cheerfully, standing. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I still have to go for my daily run.”

“You run?”

“Well, yeah, how else am I supposed to stay in shape? It’s not like you have a Muggle physical defence course here.”

“Muggle physical defence,” Hermione repeated. “Have you thought about playing Quidditch?”

“Right. That would require flying.” Divia rolled her eyes and left the Gryffindor behind.

*~*~*~*

Hermione and Vange looked up from their books as Harry, Ron and Gabriel loudly entered the common room, brooms in hand.

“The lot of you is simply mad for being outside in this cold,” Hermione scolded the boys. “For your sakes I hope you don’t get ill.”

Ron waved her comments away. “Oy, Vange, why didn’t you tell us before that Gabriel was so good on a broom?” he asked. “He should be playing for Gryffindor.”

Vange shook her head. “He’d be a risk to the team, not knowing any of the rules. Besides, I like him on the ground where he can’t get hurt.”

“She’s only jealous since she can’t play,” Gabe explained.

“Oh, I am not,” she replied.

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

Ron chuckled. “Not one for the game then?”

“Well, no, but I can’t fly anyway. No one has really figured out why, but Naturals have technical difficulties with brooms. They just don’t behave properly, so flying isn’t a possibility.” She shrugged. “It never bothered me. I was fine playing soccer—er football with Divia. Besides, I don’t want to ever end up with a broken arm like her.”

Gabe groaned at the memory. “The girl was so stupid. When we were about seven she took my sister’s old racing broom and climbed onto the roof of our house, thinking she could fly if only she got a good height to start. All we heard was a loud thud and lots of crying. She’ll never tell you that’s what happened though. She swears she tried some crazy manoeuvre and failed.”

Hermione frowned as Ron and Harry laughed at Divia’s stubbornness. “So Naturals can’t fly,” she said.

Vange nodded as the boys left to clean themselves up from their exhausting training session. “About as well as we can transfigure. It’s like, well, some magics are really strong and require a lot of energy. We don’t have the magic in our blood and we can only draw so much from around us at a time, so we just…” She sighed, having difficulty with her explanation. “It’s like charging a battery or something. Same reason we don’t use wands…you don’t stick two focusing objects together, it just makes the magic travel further. Instead we concentrate harder. I figured you already knew this since you’re so smart.”

“Sadly there isn’t a lot of information about Naturals in the library,” she replied. “Vange, I don’t mean to ask quite so many questions, but you’ve been rather contradictory. I promised you trust, so will you tell me the real story?”

“What do you mean?”

“About Divia. She’s not a Pureblood, is she?”

The raven-haired girl closed her book, placing it next to her as she smoothed her skirt. “She’s a Natural,” she confessed, keeping her voice low. “Second generation. Her parents are dead, killed by Death Eaters, which is why she hates them so. She’s only got us now and Jude Mandrake.”

“I’ve heard of his family. He’s her cousin?”

“No actually. He’s helping her maintain her image and reputation, that’s all. I think when this is all over, when the threat is gone, she wants to be with him. And I think it’d be good for her to have someone.” She paused. “It’s all she’s ever wanted—a real Wizarding family. I’d call her Pureblood-biased if she wasn’t a Natural herself.”

“She hates what she is…” Hermione whispered, understanding Divia’s anger at the prejudices she had to face each day. “So she’s pretending to be someone else now?”

“Sometimes I don’t think she’s pretending. Divia used to be just like us, you know, a kid with regular teenage angst, but she’s changed a lot. Jude has helped her—while keeping his own reputation intact—and now she’s helping him to end the attacks that have reached our side of the Atlantic.”

“Noble of her.”

“Yes, well, Gabe says it’s stupid, I’ll give him that, but she’s more bull-headed than anyone else I’ve known. She has her reasons, and I don’t think she even understands what’s happening to her half the time she’s in it. That’s just how it goes really.” She stood suddenly. “I have a book in my trunk I think you’ll like. It’s all about Aisling, our town, and its residents through history. It even goes into details about Natural magic and what we can and can’t do.”

“Sounds fantastic! I’m so glad you like to read.”

Vange smiled brightly and the two girls rushed up the dormitory stairs in their pursuit of knowledge.

*~*~*~*

“She continues to lie to me, Albus.”

Dumbledore nodded from behind his desk, holding the candy dish out to Professor Snape. “Sherbet lemon?”

“No, thank you. She has said that she believes she can trust me, and yet she lies. I do believe the girl is entirely daft.”

“No Severus. Though her attitude may be that of a young adult, you must remember that it is all merely external. Her mind is still that of a child. She places trust in her peers because that is what she knows to do. Teenagers don’t readily talk openly with adults as you well know and much of what she says is not what she truly means. She is protecting herself as she continues her work here.”

“Ah yes, her work…if you can call it that. It’s preposterous what she’s doing. It shouldn’t even be allowed.”

Dumbledore nodded again. “I have allowed her and her friends entry to this school as they asked for protection. I cannot now forbid Divia to see who she wishes. She knows what she is doing, and she has her own reasons. The results from her actions may or may not be the ones she is looking for, but she cannot see that now.” He paused. “Severus, she will speak to you, confide in you, because she knows you are similar. She has told you so. However, she is unaware that I have told you of her situation.”

“I have every right to know as her Head of House. Surely you would have told Minerva or Filius if she had been Sorted elsewhere.”

“Were she anyone but herself, she would be in a different House. If you make it known to her that you are aware of her position, she will talk to you. She does not want to explain herself to you though and that is why she remains quiet.”

“So I have to speak first if I want her to trust me? As an authority figure she should already trust me. This is ridiculous.”

“Severus, it’s not a lack of trust, I’ve told you. She is not the only student to not want to discuss things. May I remind you that in his second year, Harry Potter would not tell me he was hearing the basilisk until he had taken care of the matter entirely. If you confront her, she will speak. Otherwise, she’ll never give you the answers you want.”

Snape grimaced at the thought of having to talk to Miss Llewellyn. She had no idea what she was getting herself into. He did not care for actions, but Dumbledore was right in not stopping her. After learning of her situation, Snape knew that she was doing only what she believed she had to do. She was doing a decent job keeping her story straight among the students, but she’d slipped once when he had initially questioned her. He assumed that her mentor—and he used the term loosely—had helped brand a new family history into her mind so strongly that she had reflexive answers to any questions. However, certain traits could not be explained, and if she were every confronted by a master of Legilimency, she would no doubt be doomed.

*~*~*~*

Divia stared at the ceiling above her bed, unable to calm her mind. She had so much to think about and so many plans to make. Draco would return from the holidays with the new racing broom he’d written to her about, and she would give him her ring. They would be a couple officially and known to the whole school. Parkinson would finally leave her alone. Divia slightly regretted the lack of fights in her future, but Jude would be pleased.

She’d received no acknowledgement from the Mandrakes, other than Jude. She expected it to remain so. She could disappear entirely from the public, and Nicholas Mandrake couldn’t care less. He wouldn’t even notice. That was the way things were meant to be. He was her financial backing only, and they held no emotional ties. When her work was done she could fall into her old life again, or perhaps an even newer one. A beautiful home in wizarding Boston, Jude her wonderful husband and two children with real magic flowing through their veins.

But then, her thoughts turned to Draco. She had tried to hate him at the beginning, but he had done nothing but be nice to her. The first thing she had learned upon meeting Jude was to separate the actions of a son from those of his father. She hated Lucius, but she couldn’t hate Draco.

There was no arguing the fact that he was attractive. His silvery blonde hair was gorgeous, though Divia thought it’d be nicer if it wasn’t slicked back, and his grey eyes were all-encompassing. Whenever he looked at her, she had to command her knees not to give way. He was extremely intelligent, and if it wasn’t for Granger, he would be the top of their class. Then, of course, he was a typical Slytherin—cunning, ambitious, confident. His outward personality seemed a bit arrogant, Divia would be the first to admit it, but when they were alone, he was so different. They talked about everything, from schoolwork to Quidditch. She sighed and held her necklace tightly in her hand. And Goddess, he was an amazing kisser.

“Does that make this any easier?”

Jude’s question repeated in her mind along with her answer. It made it harder, much harder. She felt torn between what she’d wanted since she was thirteen, and what she currently had. She could only think about the present until it became the past, and as far as the future was concerned…it was entirely unknown.

*~*~*~*

“Miss Llewellyn,” Snape greeted the girl as he picked up one of the books from the table she occupied. “Divination? Has Professor Trelawney deemed you a true Seer then?”

“No, Sir. She’s actually told me that my Inner Eye is rather weak.”

“Do you believe her?”

Divia rolled her eyes. “With all due respect, Professor Snape, the majority of this school thinks that she’s practically barking, and I can’t say I quite disagree.” She paused. “I don’t have visions though; I opt for the logical side of Divination. I interpret results from divining tools based on previous textbook explanations.”

He nodded. “Why did you change your career ambitions from Healer to Soothsayer then? If you do not have the Sight, it seems a rather unusual choice. The two careers differ incredibly.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir. My future was decided by my cousin…he said it would be advantageous. A Healer can only fix mistakes after they are made, but a Soothsayer can prevent them from being made.”

“I see. If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed that you have taken some more specific Potions courses…perhaps those more inclined toward medicines. That is, of course, based on my observations in class. I have seen the way you work to alter certain potions that you will be forced to test yourself. Altered for a Muggle really…”

She flinched and looked back down at her book, but said nothing.

“The Headmaster told me of your situation the night you were Sorted,” he explained. “You’re absolutely daft, but you’ve done fairly well here. However, there is a difference between lying to children and lying to adults.”

“I’m very aware, Sir. I did have to lie straight faced to Uncle Nicholas after all,” she replied. “It takes some extra thinking and restraining my true feelings, but I can do it fine.”

“Are you positive?”

“Look, Professor, I’m relieved I don’t have to walk on glass around you, but what is it you expect from me? In June, I’ll be out of your hair, and you needn’t worry about me.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about you. I wouldn’t waste time worrying about you when you should be worrying about yourself. You may think that you’ve been taught well by your cousin, but you don’t know everything. Your voice is capable of lies, but your mind still holds memories of your old life.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“I merely suggest that you watch yourself, and should you realize your memories might betray you, come to see me. I can offer help.”

“You would help me?”

“It is what Professor Dumbledore wants. In any case, there have been too many losses already.”

“I understand, Sir. Thank you.” Divia stood abruptly and began packing her satchel. “I should be going…it’s nearly lunchtime.” She pushed hair behind her ear and hurried off.

*~*~*~*

Students had been entering the Slytherin dormitories all day, and Divia watched it all. She was sprawled out on a leather sofa, a Medicinal Potions book on her lap as a way to pass time until Draco returned. It was nearly dark when he finally showed. She moved her legs so he could sit next to her and closed her book with a smile. “Would you like your Christmas gift now?” she asked.

“That’d be nice,” he said quietly, staring at her. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She pulled the ring from her robe pocket and pressed it into his palm with one hand.

He held the ring up for a closer look before sliding it onto his middle finger. It immediately shrunk to fit perfectly, as it was charmed to do so.

“And now everyone will know that you’re mine,” she said before capturing his mouth in a kiss. “I’ve done well for a Yank, haven’t I?”

“I’m glad you came along. If you hadn’t I imagine I’d be betrothed to Parkinson by now.”

“So I’m a way out of an arranged marriage, am I?”

“My father has been speaking with your cousin quite a bit since they’ve met. You might simply be an alternative, Divia.”

Divia looked down, her hair veiling her face. “Draco, what if I hadn’t been Sorted to Slytherin? You wouldn’t have even noticed me.”

He frowned. “What? You shouldn’t think about what might have happened. It only matters what is happening.”

“I’ve just been wondering about how we get Sorted,” she began, turning her eyes to him again. “Jude explained Salem’s way to me, and it made logical sense. It’s by your date of birth. Here though, the Sorting Hat tells you what qualities you have. Most of our House that I’ve met have all been the same, and I wonder how I got here. I feel so different most of the time.”

“You are.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m different, too, and that’s why we fit together.”

“I suppose.” She cheered silently at his agreement.

“Well, where do you think you really belong then?”

“I don’t know. I’m glad I’m where I am though.” She bit her lower lip and sighed. “So are we really going to have to get married?”

“Once we’re out of school it will be very strongly encouraged.” He paused and rethought her last question. “Wait. Why do you make it sound like such a punishment?”

“Our families talk more about our futures than we do. I just want to be a teenager still.” She smiled and kissed him again. “Being with you could never be a punishment, Draco, believe me. We just need to be young, you know?”

“How about we go be young in some empty classroom,” he suggested with a smirk.

Divia slapped his arm playfully. “You’re awful.” She stood and began to walk out of the common room.

Draco followed her quickly, wrapping an arm around her waist. “But that was a yes, right?”

*~*~*~*

Gabriel glanced over Harry’s shoulder into his trunk. He was too busy rummaging to notice the onlooker. “Um, Harry, what did you lose?”

“No, I found it.” He held up a piece of blank parchment. Tapping it with his wand, he said, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” Writing appeared suddenly.

“The Marauder’s Map? What does it do?”

“It shows where certain people are, so I can sneak around and not get caught. Ron’s brothers gave it to me, and before that, it used to belong to my dad and his mates.”

“You’re sneaking around tonight then?”

“Hermione wanted me to see where Divia was. She practically insisted, it was rather odd really.” Gabe eyes narrowed as a series of corridors appeared on the parchment followed by two dots. One labelled “Draco Malfoy” and the other labelled “Diviana Welles.”

Gabe backed away, grumbling. He was nearly out the door when Harry cleared his throat. “Er…Gabe…what are you not telling us about Divia? The Map doesn’t lie you know. It sees through all sorts of disguises, including Polyjuice Potion.”

“I wish it was as simple as Polyjuice,” he began. “Vange must’ve told Hermione what’s going on, it’d explain her insistence on the map there. Divia’s a stupid girl who likes to put herself in ridiculous situations…”