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Sympathy for the Slytherin

Chapter 10: More Ways to Fly

Author's Notes: Okay, I admit it's been a bit of a wait for a new chapter. Um... hi again.

Chapter 10: More Ways to Fly

"Hello, " the girl said softly. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Dabria Malfoy."

Dabria frowned at the mirror. It just didn't sound right. It didn't seem to matter how many times she's said it.

"Dabria Malfoy," she said with a bit more confidence. "Excellent to make your acquaintance."

She cleared her throat.

Excellent to make your acquaintance? He's my brother, not my banker.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Dabria Forsythe." That name sounded so much more normal to her ears.

"Hi there, I'm Dabria Forsythe Malfoy. Great to meet you!"

That was somewhat acceptable. Dabria regarded her reflection. Her waist-length hair, pulled back into a long velvety rope of a braid, would've been the pale blonde of a Malfoy if she had not charmed it black. She'd told herself since the age of twelve, that it was a very necessary disguise. The less Malfoy-like she appeared, the better. Just in case her real father caught wind of her existence. Yet she had not charmed her eyes a different color. They were, of course, the stormy gray of a Malfoy. Unmistakable.

Dabria fidgeted with her simple brown cloak and surveyed her temporary home. It was an enchanted tent on the outskirts of Auror Camp. It was simple, rather small for a tent that could've been huge on the inside. A small bed, a mirror and sink... Her trunk doubled as a bookshelf. Stacked atop it were titles like Defensive Measures for the Modern Wizard and MI Weekly. There was a lantern- the same sort that could be found in every tent on the grounds. It glowed red if some danger was felt near the camp and blue as a call for assembly. There was not much else. No fancy trimmings. But that's how aurors generally lived. Humbly. It was how Daimhin had kept his house. Modest, but not austere. Warm and cozy. Outside she could hear the familiar shouts of dueling drills and the laughter and constant chatter of young aurors, taking a break from their training. She had come to love these sounds in her few weeks of staying here, since the death of Daimhin.

Dabria felt a sensation like coldness in her heart, which she had come to know well in the last few weeks. As if there were an actual hole in her soul and gusts of wind and rain were blowing through it. She felt tears welling up. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The grief of Daimhin's death was still fresh. Her adopted father- the only family she'd ever known. And now he was gone. Not just gone. Assassinated.

The pain of his absence washed over her and a small white cloud appeared around her legs. Dabria thought of Daimhin's warm laugh as they sat in front of the fire in his cottage on the cliffs of Kerry. The cloud expanded and became a fog that spread throughout the tent, until Dabria couldn't see the mirror in front of her.

"Oh dear," she said faintly.

Dabria shook her head and swallowed, clearing her head. She concentrated for a moment and the fog dissipated. She wouldn't think about that now. There were too many other things to worry about anyway- hopefully without creating changes in the weather as a result of her emotional tie to magic.

There was her new family, for one. Or her old family, to be exact. She had met her real mother, Narcissa Malfoy, a few days ago. It had been an awkwardly formal and short meeting. She wasn't sure what her mother expected of her. Or what she should expect of her mother. There was the matter of her brother. A boy she knew nothing about. And then Hogwarts...

Dabria sighed.

"Buck up, soldier!" Dabria's mirror said suddenly. "There's always darkness before dawn!"

Dabria ignored the mirror but regarded her reflection again.

"Hi," she said softly. "I'm Dabria."

There. That sounded fine. She'd decide the surname situation later.

"Knock, knock," a familiar voice called from outside her tent.

"Come in!" Dabria replied, already feeling better at the sound of a friend.

Dabria took off her brown cloak and put a muggle-style hooded sweatshirt on over the blouse and britches she'd taken to wearing, which were the current trend amongst women aurors. She glanced into the mirror again and saw a smiling Remus Lupin enter her tent. Dabria gathered her strength and put on a smile for her old friend.

"Hello, Loopy!" She greeted him.

Lupin grimaced which made Dabria smile more."You know, " he said, "should you find me on Hogwarts grounds, I would appreciate it if you would not call me Loopy in front of other students."

Dabria considered this and furrowed her brow. "I see. How about Uncle Loopy?"

"How about Mr.Lupin?"

"Not a chance," Dabria snarked.

"The Great Sir Lupin?"

"Even less of a chance, " Dabria said. "How about Looney Moony?"

Lupin rose an eyebrow and crossed his arms, pretending to be angry. "I was going to ask if you were up for some dueling, but if you're going to be difficult..."

Dabria grinned and hopped up and down, "No, no Great Sir Lupin! I'll be good!"

"I seriously doubt that, " Lupin said wryly.

She grabbed her wand and followed him outside and into the bright sunlight and the noisy din of the auror camp's city of tents.

Dabria sighed in contentment. In the communal atmosphere of the auror camp, with Remus Lupin by her side, Dabria felt almost relaxed. Dabria had known Lupin for as long as she could remember, and had always thought of him as a sort of uncle. He had often visited Daimhin's house- on important business, or just to be sociable, as the two were close friends.

Dabria looked up at Lupin who was fidgeting with his hair.

"Do you think I need a haircut?" He asked suddenly.

"Absolutely not," Dabria said sternly. "Why are you asking? You never worry about that sort of thing."

"When we met up with your mother... I don't know. I felt disheveled. Unkempt. Thought perhaps it was time for a trim. Or at least a shave."

"Don't you dare!" Dabria gasped dramatically. "You aren't in the least unkempt. You're completely... kempt! Girls love the shaggy look. And the stubble. Girls love the stubble. Especially on an adventurous fighter of the dark arts!"

"Dabria, what would I do without you?" Lupin said with a sigh.

"You would flail helplessly in the sea of life," Dabria said wisely.

Lupin chuckled as the neared a dueling area- a small clearing of green grass within the camp. Dabria smiled but the question she had been meaning to ask Lupin was pinging around in her mind as she tapped her wand against her leg, unknowingly sending sparks into the grass which singed a few blades and annihilated an ant or two.

"Um, so Great Sir Lupin? Oh wonderful King Remus of all things...you know... magical and...kingly?"

Lupin turned and narrowed his eyes, "Dabria... you have that tone in your voice."

Dabria's mouth dropped open in mock surprise. "Tone! What tone? I have no tone."

"You most certainly do," he said. "It's the same tone you used when you crashed my broom into your chimney for the fifth time... in one visit."

"Hey," Dabria yipped. "You should've been glad that I wasn't hurt! Besides, I couldn't very well fly Daimhin's broom, it was impossible to control." Her voice became wistful. "And he wouldn't let me have one of my own..."

Lupin smiled sadly at the grief-stricken girl. "He was protective," Remus said softly.

"Yes," Dabria agreed. She shook her head and let out a breath. "Anyway! I wanted to ask you...

"Uh oh..."

"I know I'm supposed to start Hogwarts tomorrow..."


"And it's not that I'm not utterly thrilled to start school with hundreds of strangers when I've never had a day of school in my life..."

"Dabria Forsythe..."

"But what if I delayed it..."

"Oh dear..."

"A little longer."

"You know I'm not in control of that," Lupin said.

Dabria sat down on the grass and fiddled with her wand. "I'm going to be a sixth year, you know."

"I know," Lupin said, nodding.

"What if I fall behind? I mean Daimhin was always a wonderful teacher but what if I'm not advanced enough?"

"You're plenty advanced," Lupin argued, sitting down across from her.

"Well, sure on the practical side of things. I can battle a boggart or two. But I'm not particularly brilliant with the book learning."

"You'll do fine."

"Well, what if I did just one more fly around?" The girl pleaded. She batted her hands as if they were wings. "You know...tweet tweet?"

Lupin smiled kindly and Dabria played her wand between her fingers, guessing the answer to her question.

She leaned back on her hands and squinted as the sun shone down.

"What's my brother like?" She asked abruptly.

Lupin registered surprise and took a deep breath, as if trying to summon a description from the very air.

"Your brother..." He repeated. "Draco Malfoy..."

"Yes, that is his name," Dabria said.

"Draco..." Lupin said again. "Well, he's... how should I put this?"

Dabria studied Lupin's troubled expression and her fragile smile collapsed.

"Oh dear," she murmured.

"No, no!" Lupin said quickly. "He's not that bad. Really!"

"Not that bad?" Dabria shrieked.

"He's changed! Recently. Quite a lot."

"Changed!" Dabria said, suddenly feeling panicky. "What was he before? What was he like when you taught him at Hogwarts?"

"Well," Lupin said tentatively, "he used to have a tendency to be a bit..."

"Mean," Dabria finished for him. "He's mean, isn't he? You're saying he's mean."

"Abrasive," Lupin suggested.

"Cruel," Dabria accused of the boy she had not yet met.

"Cunning!" Lupin substituted.

"Abrasive and cunning," Dabria said. "And that's your favorable opinion of him? Oh brilliant, that's just brilliant. My brother is Salazar Slytherin."

"Oh, Dabria, he's not that bad. You really shouldn't form an opinion of him until you've met him."

"Fair enough," Dabria said. "But if I don't like him, I might just pretend that Harry Potter's my brother. I know you like him."

Lupin thought for a moment and then said, "But Dabria, did you not see him there on one of your last visits? You know...tweet tweet?"

Dabria blushed violently and a flocky of tiny pink butterflies suddenly erupted out of the ground.

"Dabria!" Lupin said, rather startled but used to her frequent magical outbursts.

"Oh," Dabria breathed. "Well, yes I saw him. He was doing that purple lightning bolt thing with Harry Potter that you told me about. He was with his friends. They thought I was a death omen!"

"That's interesting," Lupin conceded. "Alright, what else did you see?"

"Nothing!" Dabria said quickly, still blushing. "Nobody!"

The butterflies flew in a circle around Dabria's head until she disappeared them with a flick of her wrist.

"Whatever you say," Lupin said with a chuckle.

The two sat in silence for a few moments. Dabria tried to calm herself, but her anxiety over her very first first day of school was causing the lush green grass around her to grow at an accelerated rate which Lupin had not noticed as he was staring off into the trees, thinking over the Malfoy-Potter scar connection. Dabria did not even try to quell her feelings as the grass grew into huge blades, right over her head, completely hiding her from view.

"Um...Remus?" Dabria whimpered. "Couldn't I just delay a bit longer?"

Remus Lupin turned his head and sighed heavily at the sight of the grass covered young witch.

"Oh Dabria..."

He parted the thick blades of grass, which had become quite a jungle, until he finally found Dabria resting her chin on her hands, her expression a fearful pout.

"Don't wanna go."


The five Gryffindors were eating lunch in the Great Hall.

"You're out of your gourd, Weasley," Draco groaned with a shake of his head.

Hermione swallowed her pumpkin juice, her eyes still on her arithmancy book, and said casually,"Don't be mean to Ron."

"I'm not talking to Ron, I'm talking to the other one," Draco corrected her.

"That would be Ginny," The youngest Weasley said with a roll of her eyes. "And I am not out of my gourd."

"Yes, she is," Ron said, around a mouthful of sandwich. "That's one thing we can agree on, Malfoy."

"Ron, Malfoy, don't be mean to my girlfriend," Harry warned, putting a protective arm around Ginny.

"You heard him," Ginny said haughtily. "That's The Boy Who Lived talking. I wouldn't argue, if you know what's good for you."

"Alright then," Draco said with a dramatic sigh. "Ron, you're out of your gourd."

Hermione burst into giggles.

"Hey!" Ron said, choking on his lunch. "I was agreeing with you!"

"That's hardly the point," Draco said with a shrug.

"I'm not saying," Ginny said, attempting to be calm, "that Muggles and Wizards are going to live together in a a fantastic utopian paradise tomorrow. I'm just saying that in times such as these, a progressive view can be-"

"The Muggle world would be nothing but detrimental to the Wizarding world," Draco said firmly.

"Oh, that's why I had to listen to a twenty minute lecture on The Beatles' transitionary period yesterday," Hermione pointed out wisely.

"Well, music doesn't count!" Draco was incredulous. "Or...clothes. So I want my v-neck and my 'Abbey Road.' But full integration? I don't think so!"

"You only think that 'cause you're eeeeevil," Hermione said in a singsong.

"I'm not evil, Miss Goody Shoes!" Draco countered, with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

Hermione turned to the former Slytherin and leaned into within kissing distance, "It's two shoes. Goody two shoes. Don't try Muggle metaphors if you don't know them."

"Fine then," Draco said softly, absently fiddling with Hermione's hair as the gazed in each other's eyes. "Goody two shoes and goody pair of mittens...and a quite noble hat and some heroic wool socks.."

"As opposed to your villainous trousers..." Hermione whispered, her words disappearing into his kiss.

"There they go," Harry said with a chuckle. "We won't see them for a while." Harry's words turned to a purr as he felt Ginny's hands tangled in his hair.

He turned to see Ginny's mischievous eyes locked on his.

"Your hair's gotten long," she sighed happily.

"Shall I cut it?" He murmured, playing with Ginny's tie.

"Of course not," Ginny gasped. She bit her lip. "I love the shaggy look."

The became lost in eachother's lips and Ron Weasley, paused mid-chew, realizing for the umpteenth time that week that he was, in fact, trapped between two quite disgusting couples. Having finished his lunch, Ron shouldered his lunch and stood slowly, unnoticed by anyone.

"Alright then," he sighed. "I'm just gonna...take a bit of walk. Still have some time...so..."

No one noticed him as he ambled out of the Great Hall and shoved his hands in his pockets with a scowl. The thoughts of Harry and Ginny began to enter his mind and he concentrated for a moment. His ongoing homework for the week was to work on blocking out unwanted thoughts which, he was told, was helpful in the area of not losing one's mind. Particularly when one's sister was dating one's best friend.

Ron continued to amble, haphazardly putting one foot in front of the other down the corridor towards the front door. That is, until he was interrupted by Nearly Headless Nick.

"Ah, Mr.Weasley!" Nick hollered, quite chipper. "The tyrant of telepathy! Miracle worker of the mind! A prodigy of-"

"Oh, sod off," Ron grumbled.

"Bit grumpy are we, Mr.Weasley?" Nick queried.

"Oh, you wouldn't understand," Ron snapped. "You've been dead too long."

"No need to get personal," Nick said, a bit affronted. Nick drifted through a wall and Ron ambled on, mumbling to himself.

"Not as if I need a girlfriend anyway... Certainly have enough to worry about... Not as if I..."

Ron turned a corner and looked up to see a strange girl inspecting one of the Quidditch trophy cases. His walk slowed, his brain feeling suddenly scrambled.

"Not as if I..." He whispered, completely forgetting the rest of his intended sentence.

Days later, Ron would feel distinctly idiotic for not immediately realizing that it was Draco's sister he was looking at. The girl was tall and slim and dressed like the young women aurors that Ron had seen in Telegraph articles. She wore brown britches- a bit like what Muggles would call cargo pants, but gathered below the knee, and a white linen blouse and brown boots. She looked like an adventurer. A bit like the famous witch who had tried to live as a Muggle aviator until disappearing back into the Wizarding world and inventing the Cleansweep Side Seat. Amelia...something.

Ron stopped abruptly, his shoes squeaking loudly in the corridor and the girl looked up. And if offered all the galleons in the world, Ron, at that moment, would not have been able to remember his name. The hair! An excess of silky black hair, falling straight as an arrow to her waist and partly pulled back (a little sloppily if one were to examine it, as if in great haste). Her face was obviously beautiful- all aristocratic delicacy and refinement and porcelain skin. But that refinement was belied by her very dress and her frank way of standing, leaning over on one foot, the other jutting out like a challenge and her hands on her hips. It was belied by her eyes. The girl was all eyes. Giant gray, stormy eyes. Ron had never seen anyone like her. The girl looked at Ron in recognition.

"It's you!" She said smiling brightly.

Ron just stood, as silent as a stone, his breath caught in his throat.

Her expression transformed to one of almost comical horror, her eyebrows raised.

"Oh wait!" She said, gasping. "I mean... That's right, I haven't actually met you. So I don't know you! Pretend I didn't say anything! I'll probably meet you later anyway! Oh dear..."

The girl backed away and then turned, just as a flock of small pink butterflies burst out of the very air. But she didn't seem to notice, running down the corridor and around a corner.

Confusion and utter delight and some unnamable emotion rolled around in Ron's mind like a drug and he felt almost dizzy as the mysterious butterflies flitted around his head and then disappeared.

A full minute later he managed to say to the empty hall, "Hi..."



Hermione was reading the MI Weekly with a furrowed brow, leaning on her elbows as she lay on the grass under the Maple tree where the Gryffindor group had taken to hanging out.

"You know, you're very expressive when you read," Draco observed, not paying a speck of attention to his potions essay.

"I am not," Hermione argued, blushing.

"Oh yes, you are," Draco insisted. "I know you're reading something interesting now because your brow's all furrowy."

"My brow is not furrowy," Hermione said, unfurrowing her brow and holding the paper up over her face.

"No good," Draco said. "Your fingers are furrowy."

Hermione put down her paper and regarded Draco with a good natured glower.

"That's ridiculous."

Draco lay down next to her and rested his chin on his hand.

"What do you think my sister will be like?" He asked idolly.

Draco was meant to meet the mysterious Dabria before dinner. Though apparently, she had been there all day, getting herself acquainted with the grounds.

"Boy, do I don't know," Hermione answered him, leaning her head on his shoulder, while skimming the paper. "I mean she was raised by an auror in secret, so I'll bet she's pretty tough."

Draco stared off into the distance, imagining his sister's childhood. "Sometimes," he said, "I catch myself thinking that I can't imagine a father so horrible that his wife had their child raised in secret so he'd never find her... And then I remember, oh wait, I was raised by him."

Hermione felt there was no way to properly respond to this and so answered him by squeezing his shoulder.

He met her eyes and smiled, "What do you think I would've been like if I'd been raised in obscurity by some auror?"

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'd still be a cheeky git," she assured him.

"So what if she's really ugly or something?" Draco said casually.

"And would you love her less if she were ugly!" Hermione shrilled, her voice going up a few octaves.

"No, I just wanted to hear your voice do that."

"Cheeky git."


"So what did you think of that announcement Dumbledore made this morning?" Ginny asked, hand in hand with Harry as they made their way to the Maple tree in no hurry at all.

"Oh, well I don't agree that Canary Creams should be banned from Quidditch matches," he said in a mock-serious tone. "Personally, I don't mind feathers on the field and they don't look enough like snitches to disrupt my seeking."

"And as fascinating as your thoughts on candy littering are," Ginny said sardonically, "that is not, in fact, what I was referring to."

"I see," Harry said understandingly, swinging the girl's hand. "You must be referring to the proposal for a Divination Club. I wouldn't say I'm fourscore against it, but if Trewlaney's any part of it, I will not be joining."

"Okay," Ginny said in her dangerously stern voice. "You're starting to the cross line from charming into just a little bit irritating."

"Perhaps you're talking about the Borgie Ball!" Harry said triumphantly, quickly correcting his mistake.

"Excellent thinking, Hero Boy!" Ginny laughed.

"Yes, I was thinking about asking Millicent Bulstrode to the Ball," Harry said, trying to sound as serious as possible.

Ginny attempted to stifle a laugh, pretending to play along and said, "Millicent Bulstrode! Well, I was thinking about asking the giant squid. What a cute double date that would be!"

The two laughed freely and Harry pulled her to him, sweetly kissing her.

"Hey, do you where my absurd brother is?" Ginny asked. "He's been falling yet further behind in potions. I was going to give him some insider information."

"I think he said he was going flying out by the cliffs," Harry said. "He's seemed pretty distracted since lunch. Must be that thought blocking stuff."


Ron Weasley wandered the grounds beyond the castle, absentmindedly trailing his broom behind him. He had been flying around the quidditch pitch a bit, but he did enjoy this normally abandoned spot.

He had been thinking about the girl all day. The oddity of the interaction. Perhaps the girl had mistaken him for someone else. Perhaps one of his brothers. Between attempting to solve that and attempting to keep foreign thoughts out of his mind, he felt mentally exhausted. He had wisely avoided allowing schoolwork to take up too much mental space.

"She's probably just a visitor," Ron muttered to himself. "Don't get your hopes up, Weasley. Maybe a Beauxbatons girl." He frowned. "Didn't have the look of a Beauxbatons girl... But how did she know me?"

Ron let the cool crisp wind blow his hair back and closed his eyes for a moment, the memory of her eyes swirling around in his head. And when he opened his eyes again...

There she was.

She stood near the cliff's precipice, looking out on the lake. The wind wreaking havoc with her long black hair. She had her hands clasped behind her back and stood in that same fashion again- leaning on her left foot, her right toe jutting out.

Ron stopped in his tracks once again and just stared. He was trying to come up with a clever greeting. Perhaps something along the lines of, 'Hey, strange girl, please don't run away again.' And then it was too late.

Because she was running away again.

She was running right over the edge of the cliff.

Ron's mind did not comprehend this until the moment she actually leapt off the edge and then he was running after her, quite uselessly. But it was far too late.

She was gone.

"HEEEEEY!" Was all Ron could muster.

Ron, adrenaline surging through him, stopped short at the edge of the cliff, only to see the girl plunging toward an outcropping of rather nasty rocks, her hair hair billowing all around her, an expression of complete peace on her face. The peace turned to astonishment when she saw him looking down at her in horror. And then, just before meeting an almost certain death, she turned into a bird.

Suddenly her arms were wings, her hair seeming to cover her as she shrank into a black bird with white tail feathers that flew swiftly along the lake for just a moment and then up back toward the cliffs and over his head and down near the grass in the direction of the castle. And then she was a girl again, running at top speed back to Hogwarts. And then she was a bird. And then she was a girl. As if she couldn't quite decide. And then she was a bird that flew around Gryffindor Tower toward the entrance of the castle. And she was gone.

"Holy bloody mother of Merlin," Ron gasped, utterly breathless.

Ron, who had fallen to his knees, his heart about to palpitate right out of his chest, his head pounding with tension, his eyes wild, would find in the future that such moments with Dabria were to become a matter of course.


In the common room, Hermione, Harry and Ginny sat in front of the fire mulling over the concept of Draco's sister who he had just left to meet in Dumbledore's office.

"I bet she's quiet and mysterious," Ginny said, a sparkle of romance in her eyes.

"What if she's worse than Malfoy?" Harry said, looking dazed at the thought.

"How could she be worse than Malfoy?" Ginny countered rhetorically.

"Hello?" Hermione cut in. "Dating the boy here?"

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, exchanging a look of amusement with Ginny. He not-so-deftly changed the subject. "Ron still not back from flying?"

He was answered by the sight of Ron himself, who stumbled into the common room with his broom looking wide-eyed and panicked. He sat in a chair by the fire and gripped its arms, his shoulders hunched in tension.

"Ron?" Hermione questioned. "What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"We see ghosts everyday," Harry wisely pointed out.

"You know what I mean," she said with a roll of her eyes and turning back to Ron. "Ron, what on earth's the matter?"

"What?" He yipped. "Nothing! What! The bird... I saw the... bird. Again."

"Well, did it turn into a dementor or something?" Harry suggested.

Ron took a deep breath and looked like he was about to speak and than stopped. He looked around the room at nothing in particular, stroked his chin and sighed. Then he smiled a small and bewildered smile as if he were puzzling something out.

"Ron?" Ginny said uselessly. "Ronniekins?"

"I'm going to change clothes," Ron said in a very unRon-like soft voice. "I'll see you at dinner."

Harry, Hermione and Ginny exchanged looks of absolute wonder at his exit.

"What is that about?" Hermione said with a laugh.

Harry pondered his friend's strange behavior. "I think he has an unhealthy relationship with that bird."


Draco drummed his fingers on the railing of the all too quickly moving spiral staircase. All day he had been thinking about it, and he still couldn't quite decide whether or not he was eager to meet his sister. He had a dozen contradictory emotions within him. One on hand, he had killed their father. Would she not be somewhat put off by such a person? Even if it had been in self-defense. On the other hand, their father had been this girl's greatest enemy. In a sense, he had unknowingly solved the girl's biggest problem. Now she was suddenly allowed to come out of hiding after fifteen long years of exile. On yet another hand, his actions were responsible for the death of the girl's adopted father, Daimhin Forsythe.

"Too many hands," he muttered.

"What was that, Mr.Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall said from behind him.

Draco winced. Being called Malfoy by anyone but Hermione was one thing. But Mr.Malfoy was too much. That was his father's name. When he heard it, he half expected Lucius to pop up out of nowhere. Yet it was difficult to explain such a thing to every teacher in the school. He supposed he'd just have to get used to it.

"Um, I said I'm kinda hungry," Draco lied.

McGonagall didn't respond and then they were at Dumbledore's door. Draco stood there, not particularly wanting to move and feeling, all of a sudden, very nervous. McGonagall made a squeak of annoyance stepping in front of him to open the door and looked at him expectantly. He made himself follow her and there he was.

There, in Dumbledore's office, was his mother having a conversation with Remus Lupin.

How odd, Draco thought. Although, at the last training session, Lupin had mentioned that he knew Dabria very well and had seemed a bit apologetic about having to keep it a secret from the boy, it still seemed highly bizarre to see him having a casual conversation with his mother.

And there was Dumbledore, stroking his beard and talking to a girl with very long black hair whose hands, hidden behind her back, were very fidgetty.

Draco felt quite stupid later, when he remembered that his first thought upon seeing her was, That can't be her, her hair is black.

"Ah, Mr.Malfoy!" Dumbledore said in his most irritatingly joyful voice as no one appeared to notice Draco flinching. "May I, finally, present to you, your sister, Dabria!"

The girl turned around and Draco's second thought upon seeing her was, That must be her, those are definitely Malfoy eyes.

"Hello," the girl said softly. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Dabria Mal- um, I'm Dabria."

ooooooooA/N-Hope you're enjoying it! Thanks for the reviews!ooooo