Stairway to Heaven

Misty could hardly believe her luck.

Narcissa Malfoy would be arriving at the manor momentarily, and coming with her was a special guest. Misty had been chosen, out of the four maids, to act as the personal handmaiden to the guest. Misty's normal duties would be divided out among the other maids, and instead she would guide the guest about the manor and see to his or her needs.

Misty had no idea who she would be serving, but anything was better than her usual duties.

She stood on her tiptoes to see over Aspen's head. All the servants were waiting on the steps of Malfoy Manor, watching the road for any sign of the Malfoy's car. Sir Lucius and Master Alaric had gone to the train station to greet Miss Narcissa and the guest, and they should be returning very soon.

Someone bumped into Misty from behind, making her stumble forward. She turned around sharply, ready to reprimand whoever had treated her so disrespectfully.

Davina glared at Misty from the step above. Misty returned the death-stare.

Davina had been in a horrible mood since Misty had been chosen over herself. She was being a very sore loser.

Misty hated losing also. But at least she was cunning enough to plot some revenge. All Davina had been doing was moping around being sour to everyone.

Misty turned her eyes back to the road as a shiny black car came up the drive. The distinct Malfoy Manor flags waved importantly on the hood.

The car stopping in front of the steps and Mr. Mason darted forward to open the door.

Sir Lucius's shiny boots came out first, followed by his tailored suit and well-combed hair. Misty noted that he seemed completely healed from yesterday's attack by Galleon.

Sir Lucius went to the foot of the stairs where Master Draco was standing, and in a moment, Master Alaric had bounced out of the car and joined them.

Then Miss Narcissa emerged, and Misty was surprised to see her looking just as pretty as she had when she visited the Tewdwrs in Wales years ago.

Some people are just lucky, Misty thought. They're born with good looks and age does nothing to them. Miss Narcissa was one of these people.

Although she had had two children, her figure was perfect. She was a model of elegance and grace in sweeping silver robes. She patted her hair with manicured nails to be sure it wasn't falling out of its complex style before gliding over to stand beside Sir Lucius.

Every servant held their breath and stood on their toes as the guest stepped out of the car.

She looked like a Narcissa-in-training. Her fingers were painted the exact same color as her burgundy robes, and her black hair was curled perfectly to lie on her shoulders. Misty, all the way at the top of the steps, could see her heavy Cosmetic Charms. She was tall, with a commanding presence, but she managed to look imposing and pretty at the same time. Misty gaped at her.

So did Master Draco. "Blaise? Blaise Zabini?!"

She smiled a demure smile and nodded. "Hello, Draco, dahling," she drawled.

"Hephaestus Zabini has a lovely house, Lucius dear. But it's so good to be home!" Narcissa said, drawing the attention back to herself. "And Blaise has come for a little vacation, is that all right, Draco?"

Draco blinked and closed his mouth. "Fine, Mother."

"I trust you've set up a room for her," Narcissa continued.

"Yes, dearest, everything is under control," Lucius said smoothly, offering an arm to his wife.

They ascended the stairs smoothly. Misty wondered how Narcissa could do it without tripping on her long robes.

The servants bowed and curtsied as they passed, but the family pretended not to notice. They did a very good job at ignoring the servants, until Narcissa drew even with Misty.

She stopped walking abruptly, still managing to look graceful. "Myfanwy Tewdwr? Dahling! How lovely to see you!"

Misty didn't move. She wasn't supposed to talk to the family. She had broken this rule, of course, but she didn't want to do it right in front of all the servants...

"Come here, dear!" Narcissa said, holding out an arm. Misty could only obey the order. She stepped forward, and Narcissa pecked her once on each cheek.

"I haven't spoken to your mother in centuries," she complained quietly. "I would love to see her again. And you are growing up so quickly!"

She was beginning to sound like an aunt, but she remained elegant at the same time.

Sir Lucius was frowning dangerously. Narcissa seemed to notice, because she said, "Very well, dearest, you had best get back in line."

Misty stepped backwards, giving Lady Narcissa a small smile. Blaise Zabini looked sulky as she passed, angry at the loss of the spotlight.

They had just reached the front doors when Lucius stopped and turned back to look at the servants.

"Ah, Misty, I forgot. Follow Miss Zabini and show her to her rooms."

Misty curtsied and hurried up the steps to Blaise. "Mistress," she said quietly, "I will be your personal handmaiden while you stay at Malfoy Manor. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me."

Blaise nodded. "Show me to my rooms, then," she ordered.

Misty stepped in front of her and led her through the doors.

The family separated in the front parlor. Blaise seemed to want to follow Draco, but Misty steered her right up the steps away from the inner parlor, where he had gone.

Blaise's bedroom was the largest of the guest bedrooms in the manor. It was on the third floor, a floor away from Draco's, thankfully. Misty led her up the two flights of steps and then down the carpeted hallway to the fourth door on the left.

"I will be staying in the servant's quarters adjacent to this room. If you need to ask me anything, I will be in there," Misty said.

"All right. And?"

Misty was confused. "There is nothing more to say."

Blaise looked indignant. "I believe you've forgotten something, handmaiden."

"There is nothing more to say, Mistress," Misty corrected angrily.

Blaise nodded curtly and went into her room. She shut the door loudly in Misty's face, and Misty stormed in to the tiny rooms next door, where she would be staying for the next few weeks.

Misty's things had already been moved into the room magically that morning. It was the same size as her old rooms, but the furniture inside was of a much better quality. There was even a quilted pad on the window seat, making it much more comfortable to sit down and look out.

There was only one thing wrong with Misty's new rooms: a door joining them to Blaise's. If Blaise needed anything, she would have the freedom to come in and ask Misty, and Misty was afraid she would abuse it.

Misty lay down on her bed, ready to rest for a bit, when Blaise burst through the door between their rooms.

"When is the evening meal?" Blaise asked Misty.

Misty sighed, exasperated. "Six o'clock," she said.

Blaise looked down her nose. "Don't use that tone with me. You're my servant. And you've forgotten something again."

"Six o'clock, Mistress," Misty said again, spitting out the word.

"You'll come in and help me prepare for the meal at five thirty," Blaise told her.

"Yes, Mistress."

"And tomorrow, you'll take me to the stables. I want to go riding."

"Yes, Mistress."

Blaise turned and swept out the door, leaving Misty fuming on the bed.

Five thirty. Misty had half an hour to rest on her bed. And she was serving a horrible wench who showed her no respect. She was the servant, and she knew it, but did her blood count for nothing?

Misty remembered how lucky she had felt that morning. Now, she was almost wishing for her old duties back. Even mopping would be better than spending three weeks with this cow.