Stairway to Heaven

"Miss Narcissa and I are going Christmas shopping to Diagon Alley," Blaise explained to an irritated Misty. "Help me pick out some good robes."

What else is new, Misty thought as she sorted through the now-familiar sets of beautiful, expensive clothing. Randomly selecting some green silk ones with large bows on the shoulders, Misty asked, "How about these?"

Blaise scrutinized them with heavily made-up eyes. "No," she said finally. "Green is too bright for such a gray day."

"These?" Misty snarled, this time pulling out some canary yellow ones with little bows.

Blaise sighed with exasperation, glaring daggers at the servant. "Are you even trying?" When Misty didn't answer, she snarled. "Find me good ones. Now."

"That's impossible. None of them are good," Misty said, but very quietly. Reluctantly, she entered the wardrobe yet again.

A few minutes later, after a hurried search and an unenthusiastic choice, Misty stumbled back out. "Here," she growled, shoving some plain, pale purple robes into Blaise's painted fingers.

Blaise eyed them closely. Finally, she raised her gaze and said, "No, I think some white ones will do better." She gave Misty the robes and the girl exchanged them, annoyed.

"Why do you even keep me here, when my opinion doesn't matter at all? We'd both be much happier if you switched me for someone else," snarled Misty, handing Blaise the robes.

"Simple," Blaise replied, her mouth curved upward into a malicious grin. Misty had the sudden urge to slap her. "You deserve the punishment."

Misty was about to give in to her temptation when someone knocked on the bedroom door.

Blaise hurried into her bathroom to change while Misty hastily answered the door.

"Yes?" she asked, peering outside and trying to smother her flaring temper.

"Misty! Dahling!" Lady Narcissa smiled at her from outside.

Misty quickly opened the door and Narcissa swept past. "I assume you are accompanying us to Diagon Alley?"

Misty was shocked. "Actually, Lady Narcissa, I don't believe Miss Zabini would enjoy my company."

"Now, don't be silly, dear. You'll come, on my invitation."

Lady Narcissa was very agreeable, and Misty would have loved to go along with her--as long as Blaise was not a factor in the equation.

But then again, she couldn't politely refuse the mistress of the house that she served. "Of course, Lady Narcissa," she replied reluctantly.

Narcissa smiled elegantly. "Well, go change out of your uniform, then. And don't forget to bring some money! This is Christmas shopping, after all."

"Yes, Lady Narcissa." Misty quickly left the room. She sent most of her wages to her family in Wales, to help pay for her younger siblings' schooling at Ysgol o y Coeden Gwyrdd and for other expenses, but she was careful to save some pocket money for herself. This would prove a good occasion to dig into it.

Misty peeled out of the green robes that declared her station as first maid. She rummaged through her trunk, pulling out one of her prettier dresses--empire waist, dark blue, and falling to mid-thigh--and threw some plain back robes over it. She brushed her dark hair, but left it down, cascading over her shoulders and down her back. Satisfied, she grabbed her small bag of saved coins and went back into Blaise's room.

Narcissa sat alone on the bed, waiting for Blaise to emerge from the bathroom. She looked up at Misty's entrance. "That's a pretty dress you're wearing. Although, green complements your eyes so well." She smiled. "Lucky, isn't it, that your uniform is that color?"

Currently, Misty hated her uniform, along with everything else that represented her position as servant to Blaise. But even that could not spoil her love for the color green. "Yes, Lady Narcissa," she replied.

They fell silent for a while as Narcissa looked curiously around the room. Misty stared out the window at the capacious grounds of the manor, wondering how this day would go. Hopefully it will all be over quickly, thought Misty, unable to determine whether Lady Narcissa's presence would put a damper on Blaise's rudeness.

Blaise exited the bathroom at last, looking regal with the white robes contrasting her black curls. She had lightened the Cosmetic Charms to match with her softer colored outfit, although, in Misty's mind, she looked no different. Still as ugly as ever.

"Well, Blaise, you look lovely," Narcissa said, standing and crossing the room gracefully. Misty watched closely as Narcissa hugged Blaise delicately, unable to discern whether the woman really meant her words or not. How could someone as gracious and generous as Lady Narcissa ever think highly of someone so spoiled? Misty mused. It certainly didn't make any sense to her.

Misty was jerked from her confused thoughts as Narcissa glided to the door, smiled at both she and Blaise, and then said, "Off we go."

Blaise looked surprised for a moment, before turned to Misty and shooting her an acid stare. Unfortunately, Narcissa was already halfway out the door, and she didn't catch it.

Misty followed the two of them out of the room, dreading the day ahead of her. What have I gotten myself into?

~*~

The driver took them silently back to London, sitting sternly behind the wheel throughout the trip. Conversation was sparse, with both Blaise and Misty feeling quite irritable. Narcissa was the only one to say more than a few words, and she ended up chatting mostly to herself.

"Well, then, here we are," she said with a sigh as she stepped from the car. Blaise followed her daintily and Misty climbed out last of all.

"Misty, I don't believe you've been here before," Narcissa said cheerily, steering them over to a small pub that appeared to be fast approaching its last days. "Lovely place, this."

Misty eyed first the pub, then Narcissa with disbelief. Was this some sort of joke? Surely someone as wealthy and outstanding as Lady Narcissa would not shop here, of all places?

Narcissa swept through the door as if it were the threshold to a palace, extremely unaware of Misty's growing doubt. Blaise hurried after her, smirking, leaving Misty to bring up the rear yet again.

Misty gawked at the group of people sipping drinks along the bar. This was starting to seem like a very good joke. Had Blaise cooked it up? Why was Lady Narcissa playing along?

"Misty," Blaise demanded impatiently, as if calling a dog to her side. "Come on."

Misty hastily followed Blaise and Narcissa through the back door and out into a tiny back alley surrounded by a brick wall. Narcissa was tapping the bricks with her wand, and the sight of her bending over to stab the bricks was almost comical.

Abruptly, surprisingly, the bricks began to rotate and glide apart, until Misty stood beneath a high arch and all of Diagon Alley lay beyond.

Misty, stunned, followed Narcissa and Blaise down the street, taking in her surroundings with wide eyes. It was nothing like this in Wales, where the wizarding district was simply separated from the Muggles...to think, this whole wizard alley had sprouted up in the center of Muggle London! It was amazing.

Misty nearly walked into Blaise before realizing that they had stopped walking; the girl turned and glared at her servant.

"Miss Narcissa," Blaise said in an overly sweet voice as Misty glared back. "Would you like to go shopping over in Madam Malkin's with me?"

Misty rolled her eyes, disgusted. "As if you need any more robes!" she shot at Blaise before she could stop herself.

Narcissa, who was a kindred spirit with Blaise when it came to loving fashion, turned her eyes to Misty. "Now, Misty," she murmured, her soft voice covering a stern tone, "perhaps you'd like to go shopping alone for your family?"

Alone. Misty wasn't stupid; she got the hint. "Yes, Lady Narcissa," she replied icily, feeling a surge of anger toward Blaise.

"Meet us back at the wall in a couple of hours," Narcissa said shortly, dismissing Misty with a wave of her hand and guiding Blaise forward.

"Hmmph." Misty stared after them fiercely before reluctantly shifting her thoughts to less temper-provoking things. "What to get for the family?"

Her sister Bryn adored painting, so she was an easy choice. A simple set of new brushes, made from unicorn hair, was quickly purchased, followed by new riding boots for Misty's brother Owain. Her father could have a new quill and ink set, and her mother...her mother...

Misty meandered along the alley, peeking in shop windows and searching for something her mother might use or enjoy.

Finally, she stopped at the bookshop. It was busy and full of people, but it seemed like a large, well-stocked store, and Mrs. Tewdwr had always liked reading.

Misty perused the shelves, finally picking out a book entitled Legendary Wizards from Across the World. It seemed full of a rich history, and there were even a few chapters on Welsh wizards. Skimming through it, Misty stopped on a page that had an alarmingly familiar name on it.

OWAIN TEWDWR

Misty stared at the page, surprised to see her last name--and her brother's name--printed in a book. This book. Was this an ancestor of hers? Had he, perhaps, been a legendary wizard? She read on, curious.

Owain Tewdwr, grandfather of King Henry VII of England, was one of the most talented wizards of his era when it came to magic. He was capable of amazing things, but is virtually unknown today among wizard-kind because he chose not to use his ability to he full extent of its power.

He was born in a tiny magical community in Cardiff, Wales, and just about the time of his birth, a rare power was beginning there. He was gifted with it, whether through blood or genetics or some other means (it is unknown). This mindpower was named Domination Legilimency.

Something stirred with familiarity in Misty's mind at the mention of this magical ability. Hadn't she just read about this a while ago in the manor library? One of the Malfoys had been researching it, and there was an article about it in one of the old books. Something about controlling someone with your mind... she kept reading hungrily.

From birth, Owain could enter the minds of people and control their actions. He kept quiet about his gift for most of his life, because the discovery of it throughout the wizarding world might lead to suspicion or shunning. Wisely, he did not use it often--only, he insisted to trusted companions, in the gravest of circumstances.

Supposedly, he once used his ability to stop a young woman from killing herself. At another instance, he stopped a peasant family from drowning the runt of their latest litter of kittens, instead adopting the creature himself. Other than these and a few other situations, he claimed to have kept his power at bay.

While not much is known about Owain Tewdwr and his lifestyle, or of the years preceding his marriage to Catherine of Valois, we know that his gift guaranteed him a place among wizarding legends. He was surely one of the most powerful wizards of his time, and had he chosen to use that power, he could have risen to amazing heights. He is only to be further honored and revered for dampening that ambition.

Owain Tewdwr has truly earned his place in wizarding fame, if not with his own life, with the lives of his offspring. King Henry VII, grandson of Owain, eventually became King of England and spawned such great wizard rulers as Henry VIII and Elizabeth I. Amazingly, out of respect for his father (Edmund Tewdwr) and grandfather, Henry VII named his house after them: the house of Tudor.

Misty closed the book and simply stared, flabbergasted. Vaguely, she remembered reading about Domination Legilimency before. Then, something clicked--hadn't the other book said that Queen Elizabeth I was a prominent wielder of Domination Legilimency? Surely, she this ability had been passed to her from her ancestor, Owain Tewdwr... because she was part of the Tudor line!

Misty quickly purchased the book, sure that her mother would be interested to hear of this connection. Thoughts popping up wildly in Misty's head, she mused again on what she had stumbled upon before. What if Owain Tewdwr was one of her own ancestors? He was obviously Welsh, and (she assumed) a pureblooded wizard. Surely, she was a descendant of his?

Another thought came shooting into her head with staggering seriousness.

If Owain passed his ability to his royal ancestors, could he have also passed it to my family?