Lydia's Story

"Do you mind explaining what that was all about?" Harry asked, his voice angry. "She didn't do anything to deserve that!"

"You don't understand, Harry," Ron answered, his breath still coming out in angry bursts. "She was a Meliflua."

The reactions were instantaneous. Ginny gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Neville, who had been holding the box of every-flavour beans, yelped and dropped the box, once again covering the floor in candies.

"So?" Harry challenged, ignoring everyone's reactions.

"So, you might as well have been sitting with You-Know-Who himself!" Hermione said, her face still pale. She looked very shaken by what had happened. "That family has a very dark reputation. I read about them in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts a few years ago. A lot of You-Know-Who's most loyal Death Eaters were from the Meliflua family!"

"But she wasn't doing anything wrong!" Harry continued stubbornly. "Look at Sirius! Look at the family he had! You didn't hold that against him!" Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried glance. Neither of them had heard Harry talk about Sirius all summer. Not wanting to upset their friend, they chose their words carefully.

"There's no comparing the Meliflua family to the Black family," Hermione said at last. "It's not something that can be explained in a few minutes; you're just going to have to trust us! Maybe Lydia is okay, but we don't want to take that chance. I'm not sure that it's a coincidence that a Meliflua shows up just as You-Know-Who's return is made public. It's a good thing she didn't realize who you were earlier!" Hermione shuddered, thinking of what could have happened.

Harry sat down, letting the argument go. It wouldn't be the first time he found himself oblivious to basic wizarding knowledge. Besides, he knew his friends had his best interests at heart. He felt he owed it to them, after all that he had dragged them into the year before.

"So," he said at last, "who wants to clean this time?"

*~*~*~*~*

Lydia stood in the corridor, not sure what to do. She knew would have to find a new place to sit, but her mind was still reeling from what had happened. A lone tear strayed down her cheek; she had allowed herself to think, if only for a few brief moments, that she had found friends at Hogwarts. Now she stood alone, chased out by the people she had thought were her friends.

Sighing painfully, Lydia wiped her hand across her cheek. With some difficulty, she dragged her things down the corridor, looking through the glass compartment doors for an empty seat.

Halfway down the left-hand side, Lydia came across a compartment that held three boys. Two, both thickset and mean, sat on either side of a third boy with pale blond hair. He had been reading the Daily Prophet, but looked up when Lydia came to the door, his pointed face bearing a look of superior disdain.

"Uh... hi," Lydia said nervously, having second thoughts about the boys already. "Is there an extra seat? All the others are taken."

"Who are you?" the blond boy asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He lowered the newspaper, and a Prefect's badge gleamed on his robes, it's large "P" superimposed on a serpent.

"I'm Lydia," she answered, forcing a smile. "I'm new at Hogwarts, I'm from Durmstrang."

At these words, the blond boy's expression changed to one of interest. "Durmstrang?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. He paused for a moment before adding, "Take a seat."

Relieved, Lydia put her things in the luggage rack before taking the seat across from the boy. He was looking at her with reserved curiosity, his grey eyes searching her blue ones.

"So," he continued in his drawling voice, "I'm guessing you're a pure-blood. What's your family name, anyway?"

Lydia felt her breath catch in her throat. Her mind flashed back to the earlier scene with Ron, not wanting to repeat it.

"My mother's a Nigellus," she said at last, trying to steer away from troubled waters. "She comes from Hogsmeade, and attended Hogwarts herself."

"And your father?" the boy pressed, looking impatient.

There was a brief pause as Lydia's mind raced in vain. "He's...I'm...a Meliflua," she said quietly, realizing there was no way around it. She tensed, expecting another Ron-like explosion.

To her surprise, no explosion came. The bulky boys stared at her, their jaws hanging slack, while the drawling boys face froze in shock. Everyone was silent for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds coming from Mithra's cage.

The blond boy was the first to break the silence after a few long moments. "Are - are you really?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Lydia nodded mutely, not sure of what to expect.

The boys face broke into a smile, his grey eyes filled with disbelief. His disdainful air vanished, replaced instead with a dignified respect. "I-I had no idea! This is a real honour!" he extended his hand to Lydia, who was sitting in silent bewilderment. "My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. And these are Crabbe and Goyle." He added in an off-hand manner, gesturing to the massive boys on either side of him.

Lydia shook his hand, still unsure of what was happening. This was definitely not the reaction she had been expecting. She was being treated like a celebrity, without the faintest idea why.

"So tell me, what's it like at Durmstrang?" Draco continued in his drawl, his eyes alight with renewed interest. He leaned back in his seat, his newspaper lying forgotten beside him. "My father had wanted to send me there, but Mother had wanted me closer to home."

Lydia began describing her old school, still feeling wary of the boys sudden enthusiasm. As she spoke, she remembered vividly the dark, four-storey Durmstrang castle, and the vast grounds littered with lakes and mountains. Draco was an charming listener, and Lydia soon forgot her worries.

"It's much cooler in Bulgaria than here," she continued, feeling much more at ease. "It's taken some getting used to. I used to come here to visit my mother's family, so I've learned to adjust to the two climates."

Draco opened his mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted as the compartment door was pushed open. Ron stood in the doorway, his face paling again at the sight of Lydia with Draco and his cronies. He shifted his eyes away from Lydia's surprised face, apparently determined to ignore her.

"It's your shift, Malfoy," he said gruffly, turning away from them as quickly as possible. As he walked away, Lydia could hear him muttering, "Match made in Hell!"

*~*~*~*~*

Lydia spent the rest of the train ride with Draco, wandering the corridors with him on his shift, and later returning with him to his compartment. The second rude encounter with Ron had reopened wounds, but her time with Draco helped to wipe it from her mind.

While on his shift, Draco introduced her to Pansy Parkinson, his fellow sixth-year Slytherin Prefect. She was a pug-faced girl, her hostile features barely hidden beneath a forced smile. She regarded Lydia darkly, scowling at her when Draco's back was turned. Understandably, Lydia was grateful when the shift was over, and she returned with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle to their compartment.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked quietly as they reached their compartment, stepping aside to let her pass. "You seem much more quiet than earlier." He followed her inside, pushing Goyle out of his way.

"It's been a busy day," Lydia said with a sigh, sitting on the seat. She pushed a strand of raven hair out of her face as Draco took the seat next to her, her eyelids feeling heavy.

"How so?"

Lydia gave another sigh, this one more sad than tired. She hadn't wanted to complain to Draco, but the words were coming before she had a chance to stop them. "You're the only person who's been civil to me throughout this whole trip," she confided. "Everyone else, on the train and off, has been afraid of me! I began to regret coming to Hogwarts. At least at Durmstrang, people respected me for being a Meliflua. Here, it seems to be a curse, getting me screamed at and chased away." She leaned back, closing her tired eyes.

Draco was silent before answering. "Whose been screaming at you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Ron something," Lydia answered, not seeing Draco's vicious looks. "Westler? "Westley?"

"Weasley!" Draco hissed suddenly, his voice low and venomous. Anger surged across his face, contorting his features.

"You know him?" Lydia asked groggily, her eyes still closed. She seemed on the verge of sleep.

Taking a few deep breaths, Draco calmed his voice before replying. "Him and I ...don't get along."

"I can see why," Lydia answered with a yawn. "You're much too good for him!"

*~*~*~*~*

Lydia had soon fallen asleep for a brief rest, rocked to sleep by the swaying train carriage. Crabbe and Goyle slept noisily on the seats across from her; Crabbe snoring loudly, while a line of drool snaked down from Goyle's mouth.

Draco, the only one awake, sat next to Lydia, lost in his own thoughts. He stared unseeingly out the window, where the sky was beginning to darken with his thoughts.

'Weasel King,' he thought contemptuously. He knew that Ron had helped Harry to land his father in Azkaban, something Draco would never forgive him for. Now they had hurt Lydia, a Meliflua, and that was something Draco would not stand for.

His whole life, Draco had been taught about the importance of pure-blood families, especially those true to the Dark Lord. He now had the honour of knowing a member of the Meliflua family, a family praised as the most loyal to the Dark Lord. To let her face disgrace at the hands of a blood traitor like Ron was unthinkable.

Pulling out his wand, Draco looked down at it, a crooked smile twisting his lips.

He would have fun.

*~*~*~*~*

As the train neared Hogsmeade station, Draco kicked Crabbe and Goyle across the shins before gently nudging Lydia awake.

"Wake up," she heard him say in his soft drawl, her mind still half asleep. "We're almost there!"

Groaning, Lydia stretched, one of her hands brushing the window. She blinked a few times before her eyes came into focus, looking up at Draco, who was standing in front of her. He gave her a smile, his grey eyes starting to look tired.

"You'll need to change into your robes," Draco said, pulling her trunk down from the luggage rack. Handing her the trunk, he gave another smile. "The washroom's at the end of the corridor, on your right."

"Thanks," Lydia said, returning the smile as she dug through her trunk for her robes. Pulling them out, she left the compartment for the washroom, returning a few minutes later clad in her new Hogwarts robes.

Packing her Muggle clothes back into her trunk, Lydia glanced out the window. The sky through the window was dark, and littered with stars. She could see the lights of a town in the distance as Hogsmeade drew nearer. Lydia felt a rush of nervousness and excitement.

"We'll be at the station in few minutes," Draco said as he packed the last of his things into his trunk, his Daily Prophet sticking out of his pocket. "I suppose you'll be going with the first-years for the Sorting?"

"I - I have no idea," Lydia said, her smile fading. Until now, she had taken for granted that she would be entering Hogwarts with Draco by her side. She now realized that she would be alone again, and her stomach gave a funny turn.

"Don't worry," Draco added quickly, seeing Lydia's expression change. "It's nothing to worry about. It'll be done before you know it, and I'll be waiting for you at the Slytherin table!" He gave a smile, and Lydia felt some of her fears leave her.

Shortly after, the train pulled into Hogsmeade station. Lydia could hear students scrambling to pack their luggage all along the train as she made her way out to the platform below. Stepping outside, she breathed in the sweet night air. It was warmer than what she was used to, but much cooler than it had been during the day.

Looking around her, Lydia was greeted almost instantly by the sight of an enormous man standing at the end of the platform.

"Firs'-years, over 'ere!" he called, his voice booming with surprising clarity from behind a tangled beard. He held a lamp high in his hand, illuminating his wild hair and glistening off his black eyes.

"Draco," Lydia whispered uncertainly as Draco appeared behind her, "who's that?"

Draco looked up to where she was pointing. His face filled with dislike.

"That, I'm sorry to say, is Hogwarts' worst teacher, " his voice sounded apologetic, but his eyes looked sickened. "His name's Hagrid. He's been teaching Care of Magical Creatures, but he's not fit to teach anything! My father's been trying to get rid of him since he started, but Dumbledore insists that he stays. Dumbledore has always had a soft spot for freaks."

"So, so do I...go with him?" Lydia asked nervously, glancing again at Hagrid's wild appearance.

"Yeah," Draco answered with a sigh. "Sorry about that. I'll meet you up at the castle, though. And don't worry," he added swiftly, "you'll be fine!"

He gave Lydia a last smile before walking to the seemingly horseless carriages, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering after him.