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Chapter Text

She remembers how loud it was, how warm her blood felt splattered on the pavement.


There was no pain, only a lingering feeling of being warm yet cold at the same time. 


And then, there was Nothing.



For quite a while, she merely drifted. For days, maybe months or even years. She did not know, nor did she care to find out. She felt indifferent. Uncaring...empty.


And then, from one moment to another, everything changed.


All of a sudden and without any warning, she could feel, and think. She did not know where she was, but what she knew for certain, was that it was different. Perhaps even good. 


She was inside something, a cocoon.


It was warm and strangely comforting. Dark and muted.


She could neither breathe nor move. But she didn’t mind, not really.


Not yet.



She hears humming, it makes her feel safe and protected. She decided that she quite likes the humming.


She hears laughter and wants to join in. She can’t, but that does not stop her from trying.


She kicks, and receives more laughter. She is happy. 


She notices a strange warmth inside of her, it felt...unfamiliar. She was not sure what to make of it yet, so she elects to ignore it and kicks some more. 



As time went on however, something else within her began to fester. An urge. 


It was small at first, barely noticeable, like an itch.


But, the longer she stayed, the bigger the urge got and the harder it became to ignore it. She did not know what was going on and it scared her. 


Bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger-


She could not ignore it any longer. She wanted out! Now!


There was pressure and then cold air.


It hurt.


She screams.


Chapter Text




Rinse and repeat.


For god knows how long, it is all she does. Over and over. And everyday, for three times a day, a woman would come in and would periodically check in on her.


Dressed in what could only be described as medieval attire, the brown haired lady would then proceed to feed her and change her nappies.


This awful cycle went on and on and she was merely complicit to it all. She was fairly certain that she was in shock.


Well, there wasn’t anything she could do about her situation even if she wanted to.


She was too little, too small, and everything else around her was just too big. It was simply too much. 




Whenever she would close her eyes, she would wish and pray, to go back. But, every time they would open once more, every. single. time. She would be greeted by the same damning sight.


A stone  white ceiling, and the much more upsetting sight that was surrounding her entire form; a crib.


Don’t think about it!



Her emotions kept building up, all the fear-grief-sadness-confusion-anger-pain.


All of it, just spilled out. Her emotions were like a river, ever flowing, fluid and refusing to be contained. The same thing could be said of her this body. It only knew one way of coping with, well, anything really. By crying.


Gushing tears, snot, and a shit-ton of screaming.


So that’s what she did, and she had no control over any of it. She hated it. But it was all she could do. She choses to ignore the logic to instead focus on waking up. She screams until her throat becomes raw, even then she keeps going.


I’ll wake up soon. I have to.


All the while the rational part of her brain kept nagging her to accept it, accept this new reality she found herself in. She was not stupid, she knew, deep down, what was happening to her, she could make a pretty good guess at least. But it was simply impossible, it defies all logic. And yet that same logic kept insisting that she was here.


Not anywhere else, and certainly not where she was Before-


No. She cannot afford to think about that right now. She was already dealing with this...this Nightmare. She could not even begin to unravel that situation, let alone having to deal with this predicament as well. 


Please let this be just a nightmare. Her voice is painful and scratchy but her wails were not stopping.


And for once, she did not wish for them to stop. She welcomed the pain.



She closed her eyes yet again, (wishing for home, yet again) both mental and physical exhaustion finally catching up to her after all that crying (nobody had showed up to comfort her). And if a certain strange warmth within her would pulsate, if the scent of vanilla would suddenly fill the room, and if that same room would become just a little bit warmer - and she had a better sleep that night, well.


Nobody was around to notice it.


Chapter Text

Days passed and nothing changed. No matter how much she cried, screamed, or kicked. Nothing changed.


She was slowly forced into accepting her new reality. And she hated that.


She hated how weak and helpless she was. You’d think that after experiencing death, nothing could possibly get worse than that.


But apparently, the gods sure do enjoy watching her suffer.


Because the worst part of this whole mess was definitely how she couldn’t do a damn thing about it, and it sucked.


She wasn’t dreaming. Nor was she having a nightmare. She had to accept that, otherwise it would drive her to insanity.


Maybe she has already lost it, maybe she was stuck in a mental institute somewhere off, and all of this was merely a fabrication of her mind.


But the fact remains, hallucinating or not, this was happening to her.


She was experiencing this, and no amount of wishing for it otherwise would change that.


Accepting her situation was hard. But she knew that she had to do it.


She stopped kicking up a fuss, not that her caretakers took notice of it in the first place. They seemed to only care for her essential needs and nothing else. 


She didn’t like them, and was mildly concerned for her future wellbeing with these people. 


She ate her food diligently, and stopped crying all together. Which she liked to think that her caretakers appreciated, even if they were almost always different people that showed up to care care of her.


She had to wonder where her ‘parents’ were and how rich they had to be in order to afford this many babysitters. And well.


At least their absence from her life makes this easier for her in the long run.


Because thinking of these people as her family was hard, and in way, that was a good thing.


Because that meant that her first (and only) family will never be forgotten. That these strangers will never replace her family. And for that, she is grateful. 


She will keep everything from her previous life, even though she was missing a few crucial details (her name being one of them) she remembers enough to cherish.


Both the good and the bad.


She will not let this new life ruin the thirty-four years she had spent building up her pervious one.


She might have lost her friends and family, her students. But she will never forget.


She was going to live out this new life that was given to her, but she was going to do it by her own terms. 


And nothing will change that.


Chapter Text







She was bored. And now she was bored of being bored.


Her days of living as newly reincarnated thirty-four year old have gotten rather dull.


Baby life wasn’t all that it was cut out to be.


It was no wonder those memories get forgotten.


Really, the only things she had to look forward to was the appearances of her servants.


Some of them even started talking to her the other day, in English too! Curse her baby body for making it impossible to talk back. But she did babble occasionally.


She was set on her first words being witnessed by someone (anyone), just so that she could observe their reaction.


For now, all she could do was wait for one of them to arrive and feed her.


At least some good came out of them talking to her though.


She has finally learned her name, a good thing too, because she was on the verge of giving herself one.


She was once told by her brother that her naming skills were less than stellar.


Jokes on him though, Vanilla is a great name, thank you very much.


Her given name wasn’t that bad either, she supposed. 




Lucette, Lucette, Lucette... 


It has quite a nice ring to it. She had nothing to compare it to, since she could no longer remember her name from Before.


Any names actually, she tried her hardest to remember the names of her parents or siblings, but nothing.


She cried a lot that day, mourned yet another loss. 


Hopefully it would be Woman Two’s turn today, it hasn’t been for quite some time. Lucetta was quite fond of her.


Out of all the servants that take care of her, Woman Two gives the best reactions to being drooled on, and let’s not forget the occasional puking method. Always works like a charm.


Woman Two makes the funniest disgusted faces. Ah, how she yarns for those days.


Back to the issue at hand. Humanity’s worst enemy.


Boredom. Truly, a formidable opponent, but she will not back down. Today will be the day! She will attempt- nay! She will walk today. If impossible things such as reincarnation exist, then who knows what else might be out there.


Or maybe she truly was hallucinating all of this, that still remains as a possibility after all. 


Lucette was determined to see this through, however. She stared hard at the white ceiling and focused... nothing. No matter! As her grandmother liked to say, failure was part of success. She focused harder and rocked her body. 


Something warm and pleasant engulfed her, there was a loud crack, and then a blue sky. 



Chapter Text

Lucette was okay. 


She was fine. Completely fine, there was nothing wrong whatsoever.


Everything was under control. She was not panicking. She was just fine. 


Deep breaths... okay, she could work with this. Nothing to worry about.




She closes her eyes.




And opens them—


Nope, still the same... the gods really do hate her.


She’ll have plenty of time to curse them later, because now wasn’t really the ideal time to be throwing curses at her Totally-Not-Made-Up-Gods-Of-Hell.


Now was the time for action! Which, she can’t do either because she was stuck in a four-month old baby’s body! And she loathe it!


She... just can’t anymore.


Dammit, dammit, dammit!


She could already feel her useless self starting to become more and more agitated. Her lips were starting to tremble and tears were pooling around her eyes.


Useless body.


This was just so unfair! Just as she was starting to get used to her surroundings, this shit happens. It was so frustrating and infuriating. And the worst part of it—


The worst part of it was not being able to do anything about it but cry. She was just so helpless.


Lucette wanted it to stop. And more than anything, she wanted to stop feeling like this. 


The more agitated she got, the more strangely warm she felt.


It was like she was being surrounded by a nice cozy blanket amidst a stormy winter night. Secure and protected from the cold. It covered every inch of her, providing for her what she needs most, warmth.


And then, from one blink of an eye, she was back in her crib, greeted by fussing servants.


Lucette was honestly too preoccupied crying (of relief this time) to even make some sense of what they were saying, she only manages to catch some snippets of their frantic conversations.


“—ic at this age?!”




“—ly must be informed about this right away. Go get the—”




“—nna, you stay here and watch over the young mistress.”


She fades away, welcoming the familiar and comfort of the nothingness once more.



Chapter Text


Never had Lucette ever thought she would feel joy at seeing that dull, white ceiling.


And yet here she was, feeling joy at seeing that exact same dull, white ceiling.


The lack of the colour blue brought a strange sense of relief to Lucette.


She was no longer outside, and for that, she was thankful. She was back where she would be most safe (she hoped) and tucked away in her little crib, away from unnecessary stress caused by what may or may not have been teleportation. Which, speaking of...


She sighs, Lucette had a lot to think about, but she really didn’t want to. 


Her first instinct had been to shove yesterday’s events down to the deepest, farthest parts of her mind, and never ever have to think of them. Ever. 


Very quickly though, Lucette forced herself to stomp down on those urges, immediately putting a stop to that line of thinking. It never leads to anywhere good.


Because no matter how easy it will make everything now, it was only a temporary solution. She knew from experience that nothing good ever comes out of bottling up your emotions. They all eventually come spilling out, and it is a never pleasant experience. 


It was something she was certainly not willing to go through again if she could help it.


Lucette’s thoughts were (thankfully) interrupted by a strange man opening the door.


Strange not because she had never seen him before (after all, many of the servants that attend to her, she had never seen before) no, he was strange because of the attire that clearly distinguishes him from the servants. 


This man so clearly had a semblance of importants in this household.


Lucette saw in the way he walked, in the way he carried himself, and lastly, in the way he was dressed, all in black attire.


His long, black hair was sleeked back very elegantly, but not in a feminine sort of elegant. This was a man that demanded respect and attention all at once, and without even needing to utter a single word. 


His presence was simply overwhelming, but Lucette could not help but keep looking at him.


Sharp and piercing grey eyes finally meet hers. And he feels—


He feels... familiar.


Chapter Text

The man left that day, just as quickly and abruptly as he came. Leaving Lucette feeling quite confused and unsettled.


But she had been sure of one thing that day. That strange man had been her father [yes]. She wasn’t sure how she knew, just that something within her kept insisting on it being the truth. Needless to say, that man [father!] he left quite an impression on her.


Months passed and teething happened. It was uncomfortable and painful. Later that day, the servants (god bless their beautiful souls) applied some sort of miracle gel on her gums and the pain was never an issue ever since.


More months went by before she made yet another attempt at walking. It was her second attempt in this new life. Ever since the Blue Skies incident, Lucette was very scared and hesitant to try again, but it had to happen at some point. And luckily, it went out without a hitch.


Without a hitch is (obviously) referring to no strange teleportation to any strange locations, and not   somehow implying that walking was easy. 


She had been so used to walking in an adult body for so long, that walking as newly born one-year-old was just jarring. She had quite the difficulty maintaining her balance. But after six-months or so of practice, she could walk without tripping (much).


Unlike walking, thankfully, talking hadn’t been that hard to pick up (again). Faking the accent had been challenging at first, but the more time she spent around people, the easier mimicking their speech was. There was only so much she could do being stuck in her crib. She was getting restless by each passing day.


Even if she was being forced to take lessons on how to be ‘proper’. They were so boring and her instructors were even worse. 


The servants were quick to pick up on this, as now Lucette had been moved to a completely different room, her own room. It was furnished with a bed and dresser. A closet too, but she took one look inside of it and chose to never explore that part of her room. 


Everything around new room looked rather old, but not in a worn out kind of old, but in an outdated sort. As if she was living in a completely different time.


She hadn’t been sure at first when seeing her servants’ outfits, but now that she was also seeing the furniture placed in her bedroom. Lucetta was sure of it, she had been (somehow) reborn in the past, around the 1960’s if she had to guess.


That conclusion cleared up some of the questions she had of her surroundings, but at the same time only served to make things even more perplexing. 


Because even the 1960’s had some sort of technology, such as radios, gramophones and light bulbs. All things that were strangely absent in her room, she could understand the lack of a radio in a two year olds room. But electricity? Not even a light switch? That.


That was odd.


In the place of lights were instead, candles.


Candles that, for some ungodly reason, never seemed to melt. She knows this because she had literally spent an entire day watching one (and yes, she was that bored) and nothing. The wax was melting, but the candle never seemed to get any shorter. 


The candles were one of many strange and perplexing occurrences around her. Like her food, that gets delivered to her in a tray, five time a day. Each day the food would come with a different servant, they seemed to be taking weekly shifts. She uses Woman Two’s appearance as a reference point of counting up her days [she really should learn her servants names]. The food, no matter how long left out, always remained warm, never too hot and never gets cold.


The never melting candles, the four sets of clothes that seem to change colours every day, the toy box with endless toys, a cup water that never runs out of water, glass dolls that blink, the [pleasant] smell of vanilla around her room, soap bubbles that never seem to pop...


All strange and unnatural things that she kept purposefully glancing over, ignoring. For all those years, she ignored and looked away from it all. 


Even when she knew deep down that she shouldn’t. She kept doing it, putting everything at the back of her mind. 


Up until a single moment came, a single moment that made sense of it all. That moment, when she was set to meet up with the strange man [it’s father] for the second time since his last visit.


“Master Malfoy will be here to see you, shortly.” 


It was then that Lucette (it’s Malfoy now, Lucette Malfoy) knew exactly where she was. And it scared her.


Chapter Text

Lucette Malfoy. 


She was a Malfoy. As in Draco Malfoy.


In Harry Potter. 


As far as she was aware, she had no siblings. Her father certainly didn’t look like Lucius Malfoy from the books, as he was supposed to be blonde. 


Maybe she was a distant relative of Draco’s. After all, JK Rowling certainly didn’t put everything in her books.


She knew that a war was coming. People will die. And since the name Lucette Malfoy was unfamiliar to her, it could mean that her alternate counterpart died in the war. The one thing Lucette (Malfoy it’s Malfoy now) could not allow to pass, she will live. 


For all she knows, it could also mean that nothing noteworthy happened to her counterpart (her death could have been nothing noteworthy).


The Malfoy were Purebloods after all. Certainly not the targets the war will seek to eradicate. 


But they also sided—


Steady footsteps approach the dining table.


[sharp and thin, the colour of silver]


Her father walks in. Looking exactly the same as he had before. 


His hair might have been a bit longer, it has been over two years since his last visit.


He sits down at the farthest end of the table, all posh and proper.


The food had been already set up prior to her arrival. It radiated an unnatural warmth, it made her uncomfortable knowing that she was eating magic infused food.


Her father didn’t seem to mind, asshole.


The man in question seemed to feel her gaze, as he offered one of his own. Very intimidating.


“Your table manners are... acceptable.” He comments, as if he weren't the one responsible for setting up ‘proper etiquette’ lessons for all those months ago.


Nonetheless, Lucette nodded her head and spoke softly and respectfully, as she had been taught to by her servants.


“Yes, father.” Short and to the point.


He proceeds to tell (brag more like) her about the Malfoy family history, it was the most animated she’d seen him this entire time, it was barely recognizable, but his eyes did light up slightly with a certain pride. 


She tuned him out, nodding here and there. She was probably still in shock over her new revelations. 


(Lucette Malfoy).


She was somewhat glad that her father wasn’t one for social visits. She cannot deal with this stress whenever she would eat.


She preferred eating in her room anyways. Even if her servants did throw looks of disapproval her way. They’ll get over it eventually.


Lucette went back to her room that day feeling more exhausted than ever, and yet she couldn’t quite muster up the urge to close her eyes.


She had a lot to think of first. Because another revelation hits her.


She had apperated that day.


She has magic. And that was not okay.


Chapter Text

“Young Mistress, please refrain from scaring away your other tutors. There is only so much I could do before your father becomes suspicious.” Sighs Abigail, rubbing tiredly at her forehead.


Lucette eyes the plate of food and then smiles up at her. She reaches up her arm and comfortingly pats her favourite servant/new tutor on her back.


It does not look like it did much help.


Oh well.


“But their lessons are such a bore.” Grumbled Lucette, giving number Two the best puppy eyes she could muster.


Sadly, it had little to no effect. Raising the owner of said eyes does tend to make one quite immune.


Ah, how she missed the times when Abigail (previously dubbed Woman Two) would get flustered by the littlest of things.


Nothing lasts forever, it seems. A pity.


Her job now finished, Abigail leaves her room, leaving Lucette to ponder.


Abby did have a point.


While her father seemed to forget she exists, he would eventually take notice of her bouts of mischief. And Lucette really did not want another silent and awkward conversation with that man anytime soon; never if she had any say in it.


She heaved a tired sigh at the unfairness of it all. Why couldn’t she have been reborn as someone normal, somewhere normal?


She couldn’t even die right. Dead people were supposed to stay that way for a reason dammit.


Lucette is five years old now (almost forty) and she is tired, and making bad decisions. Because ignoring her problems wasn’t good, but would allow herself things because, well, magic.


The private lessons she gets do not make her situation any less tiring.


Learning the basics of math and the alphabet.


All things that she knew already; and having a bunch of grumpy, rich and entitled private tutors speak to her in that condescending tone really gets on her nerves.


Taking Abigails advice wasn’t going to be easy for her to do. But when have things ever been since her arrival to this world?


Things will never be easy, and it looks like Lucette might have to accept that.


Chapter Text

Lucette decides that she hates mirrors.


Her reflection stares back at her, as if it were taunting her. 


She glares harder. Blue eyes glare back at her. 


The person at the other side of that mirror is not her. She doesn't have blonde hair! She has dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. 


Fair skin no blemishes whatsoever. Most importantly, no freckles. The one thing that linked her to her mother, was now gone. 


So yes, Lucette hates mirrors. It wasn't a big deal before, she was barely tall enough to reach the sinks. But now that she has gotten a little taller, she finally gets to see what she really looks like in this new life. And as of today, Lucette will avoid anything that would show her reflection. 


Maybe she really was a distant relative of Draco’s... 


A knock on her bathroom door startles her from her thoughts and she jumps slightly. But quickly relaxes when she recognizes the voice of Abigail at the otherside of her bathroom door. 


“Mistress? Are you quite finished in there?” 


Lucette, now glad to no longer be looking at her porcelain doll reflection, quickly rearranges her bangs and hurries over to the door and lets herself out. “Of course.”


“Follow me.” 


Lucette catches up to her servant and they make their way to God knows where, not for lack of trying on her part. But Abigail was strangky tight lipped about it. Lucette watched her servants face closely, and all she managed to garner out of Abby’s facial expressions was that it was not anything to be concerned about. 


If Abby wasn't worried then Lucette won't be either. She trusts her servant.


They walk down the stairs, make a left turn towards where Lucette definitely knows is a dead end. Abigail , once they reach the wooden wall, taps on the floor four times, making the wall shift and open up; revealing a completely new section of the house to Lucette. 


They kept walking, Abby, who up until now, was taking the lead, slowed down her pace and matched it with Lucette’s. 


“Missus Doily mentioned the possibility of upgrading your studies to your father the other day,” said the servant. 


At the mention of the name Doily, Lucette could already feel the beginnings of a scowl forming on her lips. That woman has been nothing but bothersome ever since her father hired her as her own private tutor. She would nitpick every little thing Lucette did and would constantly berate her for it. 


‘I expect this to be memorized by tomorrow morning.’




‘Your father holds great expectations for you.’




‘Drawing is not proper for a lady of your standing.’


And her absolute favorite,


‘Do try to keep up Miss Malfoy, I do not make a habit of repeating myself.’  


Lucette really did not need more reasons to hate the woman, yet here she was. Being handed even more reasons to hate Mrs. Doily and her stupid snitching face. 


She has to begrudgingly admit that she is partly to blame for this. Lucette really should have put more effort into pretending that she was, indeed, just a seven year old child. And seven year old children are not that smart. 


Looks like it’s too late for that. What's done is done. 


“Your father has agreed, of course,” continues Abigail, completely unaware of Lucette's inner turmoil. “He was very pleased to hear of your improvements.” Abigail gives a very pointed look.


Lucette was confused, she has no clue what her servant was trying to say. 


She opens her mouth to ask just that, but proceeds to close it when she spots a very large metal door at the end of the hallway.


Once at the front of the door, Abigail turns to her and offers her a quill. “Here. Use this to sign the contract.”


“Pardon?” Abigail does not respond.


The door opens, Lucette looks up at her servant questioningly. 


Abigail nudges her towards the room, and Lucette lets her (albeit very hesitantly) 


And before she knows it, Lucette finds herself alone with the door closed behind her.


She clutches the quill in her palms and anxiously waits.


Chapter Text

There was a table and a few chairs scattered around the room. The room itself was dusty and looked fairly unused. 


The table however, looked very clean and out of place. 


She dragges one of the chais over and sits down, rolling the quill between her palms as a means of distracting herself. 


It wasn't long before Lucette began hearing hurried rustling approaching towards her.


The room was fairly dark, with a few candles here and there. But Lucette could still make out the unnaturally short figure, with unnaturally big green eyes, and unnaturally pointed elf ears. 


The small elf (holy shit that’s an elf, oh-my-god-it’s-a-real-elf) was holding a sheet of paper between his (maybe her?) hands, hands that looked injured, if the bandages around his fingers were anything to go by.


The paper was shaking slightly in his hold (was he afraid of her?).


The elf, after carefully placing the (blank?) sheet of paper in front of her, snapped his fingers and the rest of the chairs scarred around the dustyroom began to levitate towards the table, neatly rearranging themselves around it. 


It took everything within Lucette not to startle at blatant the use of magic. (ew ew ew, that’s not normal, not possible, unnatural and wrong! ) But she managed, just barely, to keep a straight face. The poor guy looked about ready to pass out, no need to add further to his stress because of her hatred of magic. 


But Lucette did feel the need to help out even a little bit, maybe try to comfort him. Show him that she means no harm and hopefully diffuse the tension. 


She reaches her hand out for a handshake. 


“Hello.” There. A good, nice and simple greeting should do it. When in doubt, always resort to the basics of conversations. 


Her attempts at diffusing the tension seemed to have the opposite effect as the small elf flinches away from her hand. His own arms coming up to cover his head, as if expecting an oncoming blow.


“Dobby is very sorry! Dobby never meant to offend his newest Mistress!” he chants, tearfully.


Lucette was suddenly hit with a wave of emotions. Disbelief and panic being the most prominent ones.


(Oh shit, oh no— Dobby. He said Dobby—) Okay, she could do this, first things first: diffuse the situation. She can deal with everything else later.


“It’s okay,” her voice quiet and gentle as she could make it. “You didn’t offend me. You’re not in any trouble, D…Dobby. I promise you I’m not upset.”


Dobby pauses, and tearfully looks up at her. 


“Mistress is not upset with Dobby?” He sniffled, fiddling with his clothes (if those rags could even be called that).


“Of course I wasn’t upset with you. I merely wished to know what I was here for,” Lucette began to reason. “Will you tell me?”


“Dobby was ordered here to make a contract with new Mistress.” 


Lucette leaned down to make better eye contact with the elf. “A contract?” 


Dobby nods.


“What would this contract entail?” Talking down to someone was beginning to become rather frustrating to Lucette. “Also, Dobby? Could you please take a seat on the chair? It’s a bit difficult talking to you like this.”


He froze and stared at her with big, teary green eyes. He looked shocked, at what Lucette had no idea, but she was beginning to get worried at his continued silence.




His eyes filled up with tears again. (Oh no. What did she do now?).


“Hey, what’s the matter?”


The elf suddenly starts sobbing. “Dobby has never been asked to sit down on a chair before! Dobby is not worthy of such kindness!” He cries out.


Lucette blushes, unused to getting praised like that. “O-of course you are, everyone deserves to be treated with some form of respect. Anyways,” quickly changing the subject. “This contract, could you tell me about it more?”


She feels uncomfortable signing what would practically be (if the Harry Potter fandom were to be believed) a slave contract. But Lucette also knows that her father must be the one behind this, and therefore she cannot opt out.


Regardless. She needs to know what signing this contact would mean for her and especially Dobby.


Said elf nods and gives her a lengthy explanation on ‘Wizard And Elf’ contacts. He explains to her that once the contract is signed by both parties, that her own magic would bind itself onto his, allowing her, the master, to summon him, the servant, by the mere mention of his name. He explains to her that no matter where she was, the contract would never fail, and he would always show up.


He also tells her where to sign and how to do it.


“Blood? I need to sign this with my blood?” Not that she was squeamish, she just did not want to give herself unnecessary cuts.


“Yes, would Mistress like some assistance?” He holds out a small blade.


She takes it, cuts her thumb and lets the blood drip onto the paper. Once the first drop of blood hits, the paper is no longer blank. There, at the bottom right corner were the words ‘Master blood signature’.


She dips the quill on the droplets and proceeds to write down her full name. The words ‘Lucette Malfoy’. 


It lights up and etches itself onto the paper. 


She hands the knife back to Dobby, he does the same.


She feels something within her (probably her magic) reach out and grab onto something else. She feels it coil around it.


And at the back of her mind, she was aware of this connection, it was as if she could just reach out to touch it, her right arm comes up and nervously scratches at her left one instead. 


She knows it’s magic and she hates that with every fiber of her being.


Chapter Text


Lucette doesn't sleep that nigh, she couldn’t if she tried.


Instead, she lays down on her bed and just thinks, thinks about things she’s already been made aware of.


She knows that she was living out her second life in Harry Potter. She knows that she has magic (the thought of that still unsettles her), and lastly, she knows that she is a Malfoy. Specifically, someone that was closely related to Draco Malfoy.


Dobby’s presence today solidified that fact. 


Lucette knows very little about her biological mother, but she was fairly certain that she was dead. A fact that was reinforced by her servants elusiveness whenever she would bring up the topic.


Her father does not look like Lucius Malfoy...


Which really leaves her with two possibilities.


One: her father remarries at some point, has a son named Lucius. Or...


Two: she was Lucius. Except Lucius was male, she was a girl.


Neither of those options were preferable. The first one would mean that she was Lucius Malfoy’s sister. A sister that was never mentioned in the books or movies. Which would mean that she likely dies at some point.


And if she really was a female Lucius Malfoy (the name fits, Lucette)... 


Lucius becomes a death eater. He worked under someone who killed and tortured innocent people just for being born. 


Lucette did not want that. But, could she even escape from that fate?


The thought scares her.


She does not remember much from Before. She doesn't remember all the details, but she knows enough. 


She was aware that this word that she was living in was one full of death and hatred. A big war was coming, and it looked like Lucette was going to have to be taking part in it, whether she likes it or not.


Lucette was scared, she doesn't know enough about Lucius’ life to even attempt to change things. 


If she truly was Lucius’ female counterpart. Then there was one thing she knew for certain.


Lucius lived. After everything that occurred, he lived.


Lucette was going to do the same. 


She will let things play out, she won’t make an effort to change major events. She will play her part. And for that to happen, Lucette needed to become strong.


Maybe if she became strong enough, and things go wrong. Then, at least she has a fighting chance. Maybe.


Lucette had until she was eleven to get her wand. 


For now, until that time comes. She prays for some peace.


She wants to ignore all of this. For now. Continue to mess around with her servants, explore the house. 


She even has a friend now. Dobby. And as much as she did not wish to involve herself in anything to do with the plot, she would make an exception just for him. Lucette knew that Dobby was treated very badly by her counterpart (She doesn’t know that yet, it’s just speculation, there was no definitive proof that she was Lucius’ counterpart) Lucette was certain that not abusing Dobby wouldn’t make that much of difference in the future (right?).


Lucette prayed that night, she wished for some happiness. 


And she wished for that happiness to last just a little bit longer. 


Chapter Text

All things considered, Lucette was happy. For however long that may last.


Apparently, (according to Abby that is) owning a house elf by the age of seven is almost unheard of, house elfs took care of children but signing a Wizard’s contract with one? Didn’t happen often.


After her father heard of her academic prowess, he decided to reward her by gifting her Dobby. Because that’s what a little girl would want from her father, Lucette was lucky to have the memories of an adult (even if her child emotions sometimes got the best of her).


It was quite unsettling how Abigail, someone whom she’d come to care for, didn’t seem fazed by the treatment Dobby was receiving, not that her servant was abusing Dobby or anything. She just didn’t care about him, and that really bothered Lucette. 


She ignores the voice inside of her that calls her a hypocrite, Lucette brushes it off, because she’s different, she wasn’t like that, she wouldn't act on her feelings.


She was different. 


Lucette had her reasons for hating magic. 


She probably wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for magic. Why wouldn’t she hate it? Why wouldn’t she hate the very thing that took her away from her family and friends.


She brushes off these unnecessary thoughts and choses to focus on positive things instead.


Dobby, was beginning to show some personality! He’s smiling a little more, Lucette was determined to make him laugh sometime in the future.


Just the other day, Lucette gave him a light head pat, and he didn’t flinch! 


He’s still a bit shy but progress was being made at least.


She’d prefer it if he wouldn’t use magic around her though, but other than that, Dobby was great company.


Her tutors still sucked though, that was one thing she was sure was never gonna change. 


She goes out into the garden every once in a while, and since she was never allowed to go alone and had her servants accompanying her, it made things very awkward for her, that and the fact that the Malfoy property was huge. Lucette knew they were rich, but this was borderline ridiculous. 


Nonetheless, Lucette feels... content.


Chapter Text


Having straighter hair was a bit of a blessing now that she thinks about it, not that she doesn’t miss her curls, she does, they were just difficult to manage. It took time and lots of effort, which was why she has decided to cut it back in middle school, which was when her mom had stopped taking care of it for her, so she got it cut to make it easier for her.


She once shaved half of her head off because she wanted to know what the razor felt like against her head. She didn’t do it again. 


Lucette tugs at her blonde locks, this hair was so much easier to manage and she was somewhat glad to have it that way, soft and slightly wavy. 


She decides to grow it out, experience having long hair once more. 


Now bored, her fingers begin twirling a piece of her hair; it was short still, shoulder length, but still longer than she’s had it in her previous life. She thinks what it would be like to braid it...


“Miss Malfoy? I do hope you are paying attention.” An annoying voice interrupts her train of thought. 


Ugh. And to think she had almost fooled herself into forgetting about her. Lucette damn near screeches in frustration at Doily, but she keeps her composure, because the last thing she needed right now was to get on her tutors bad side. Not that Lucette was ever on that demons good side, she was beginning to doubt the woman even had a good side to her. 


So, she just calmly looks up and answers. “Of course I am, ma’am.”


“Then I am sure it wouldn’t be much trouble if you would demonstrate what I have just taught you, would it not?” 


“Of course not, ma’am.” Lucette gets up and does just that. 


Lucette can’t wait to be away from these classes so that she could go our into the gardens, and since she has Dobby around, none of the servants have to accompany her anymore.


Lucette was looking forward to that.



Lucette takes a bite from her chocolate bar as she's walking alongside her friend, she takes a moment to admire the view. The weather was nice, not too hot but also not to cold either, she looks down at her black dress and wishes she were allowed to wear more colourful outfits.  Wearing black clothes just made her ashy blonde hair stand out more, Lucette want's a more colourful wardrobe dammit, she was getting tired of dark purples and dark blues. Honestly, the Malfoys are so over the top it's kind of sad. 


She takes another bite from the bar and glances over at Dobby, she snaps off a piece.




He hesitantly take it, and eats it slowly almost as if he were savouring it.


“Mistress is too kind to Dobby.” He mumbles, shyly looking down. 


Her heart swells.


“Well, that’s because you deserve it.” She walks a bit a head of him when she spots a tree, a very large tree. “You reckon I could climb that?”


Something akin to childish glee sparks within her.


The elf looks alarmed. “D-Dobby doesn’t think this would be very safe!” But it was already too late, Lucette made up her mind, she was going to climb that tree.


She grabs a few branches and pulls down at them, testing. When they didn’t snap off, she kept going, determined to climb the tree. She turns back and looks at Dobby, who looked even more worried and anxious.


“I’ll be fine, Dobby! Besides, even if I do fall, you’ll catch me, won’t you?” She smiles reassuringly down at him. Because at the end of the day Lucette knows he will, without a doubt. Dobby’s Just awesome like that.

That seemed to do the trick, the elf still looked worried but at least he wasn’t frantically yelling at her to stop.


Lucette turns back and keeps climbing, she hears rustling above her and looks up.


Surprised grey eyes stare back at her.


Chapter Text

Lucette blinks.


The boy with the grey eyes blinks back. 


“Hi?” She smiles, it feels awkward. Lucette knew how to interact with children, as an adult, she had no idea how to properly interact with one as a child herself, being nice and friendly was always a good conversation starter.


The boy, who looks slightly younger than her, scowls at her.


“This is my spot. Leave.”


Never mind then. 


There goes trying to be nice. Why do these things always happen to her?  Besides, she was still within the Malfoy estate. Lucette had every right to be here and she will tell him just that.


She huffs an annoyed breath.


“Your spot? You’re kidding, this place belongs to my father, I have every to be here.”


He blinks at her again, this time in surprise. It’s a step up from the hostility she supposed. “You’re a Malfoy?” He wrinkles his nose in what looked like disgust.




“Lucette Malfoy. And you are?” 


“None of your business!” He climbs down the tree until he got to a certain point and then jumped the rest of the way down.


Right where Dobby was. 


The boy, upon noticing the house elf, sneers at him and aggressively pushes him onto the ground.


Dobby falls down with a pained grunt, and Lucette feels angry for his behalf.


“Hey!” Lucette doesn’t even bother climbing down to safer distance and just jumps down. In all of her anger she fails to notice how even when she fell from such a high distance, her descent was unnaturally smooth. 


She lands softly on the ground and hurriedly charges at the boy and grabs his wrist, standing in front of Dobby protectively. 


“Let go!”


“Not until you apologies to my friend first.” 


“I’m not apologizing to that thing!” He yells out. He then abruptly adds on, “You’re friends with it?”


“Yes, I am. Apologize.”








“I’m not letting you go until you do.”


They were going to be here for a while.


Chapter Text

She can tell that Dobby behind her, was starting to freak out a little, but Lucette ignores him and keeps staring at the boy in front of her.


Jet black hair, barley hovering over his shoulders and upon a closer inspection, Lucette sees some twigs stuck in there and some distant part of her dreads to find some in her own hair too.


He dressed as if he were from a rich family except for how tattered and dirty his clothes looked. As if he were rolling in dirt all day, which to be fair, he did look to be about five years old, so it shouldn’t be that out of place, but if his family was anything like hers, they wouldn’t allow that to happen, a child or otherwise.


She looks at him closely, her eyes narrow, and notices now for the first time, the bruises around his neck. Bruises that were shaped like hands.


Adult shaped hands.


Her stomach sinks and all anger instantly vanishes from her, replaced by horror at what she was starting at.


What should she even do in this situation?


She knows what to do as an adult. But she wasn’t one was she?


She doesn’t even know if the magical society have CPS or if telling anyone would help. The only adults she trusted worked for her father, and she wouldn’t trust that man to look after a pet rock, let alone help out a child from what looks like an abusive household.


She should try to do something. Anything. But.


Nothing comes to mind.


Could she even do anything? She was just a child, how can an eight year old little girl help in a situation like this?


Lucettte couldn’t think of anything to say, let alone take action.


She was pathetic.


The hold she had on his arm slackens and the boy, lightning quick, shrugs it off and runs away.


Lucette stands in shock as she watches him leave, she keeps standing there until Dobby calls out to her, looking worried.


She grabs his hand and squeezes it.


“Let’s go back home.” The words feel hollow and empty.


Dobby nods and together, hand in hand, they make their way back to the Malfoy mansion.


The air around them was quiet.


Chapter Text

A day passed and Lucette needed a distraction. 


She opts to go down to the kitchen hoping to find Bonnie making something delicious like a vanilla cake, or vanilla flavoured cookies or anything really, preferably vanilla, but she'll settle for any distractions at this point if it meant her mind would not be preoccupied with thoughts of Tree Boy.

Luck seems to be on her side today because she does indeed find Bonnie instead of Toofy the asshole who wouldn't let her come anywhere near kitchenware because ‘it would put the precious mistress in unnecessary harm’. 

Bonnie at least understood her on some level, she was a bit rough around the edges but she was cool, never asked Lucette too many questions. 

Because she was still too short, she has to use a stool to elevate herself in order to watch Bonnie do her work and as much as the use of magic still made her feel queasy, she had to begrudgingly admit that it was a bit entertaining to watch. Only a little bit.

And if the cook notices her strange silence and lack of inquiry today, she doesn't comment on it, she does however ‘forget’ to put away a few cookies here and there, and ‘drops’ a big bar of chocolate on the ground, only to never pick it up again.

Really, it would be such a shame to let all those go to waste, so Lucette lends out a helping hand and eats a few cookies, pick up the chocolate bar and puts in away in her bigger-on-the-inside-pockets where she keeps all sorts of snacks and treats, because she was a child’s body and this child’s body loves sweets.

It was all this body’s fault really.

Luctte totally does not have an unhealthy eating habit.

Not at all.

Lucette leaves the kitchen that afternoon feeling a little bit better.


Chapter Text

Ever since that fateful encounter, Lucette kept going back to that same spot, everyday, at approximately the same time, in the hopes that she will see those grey eyes once more. In the hopes that… she doesn't really know what she hopes would happen if when she sees him again.


She wants to regardless, because as much as she hated to admit it, she was worried. Admitting it, even to herself, made her feel uncomfortable.


She was never good at expressing her feelings well to others Before in her previous life, now though, it was way worse.


Lucette knows it probably has something to do with her reincarnating in a new body. She suspected that things were different when she found herself suddenly disliking the taste of certain foods that she never minded in her previous life, this body apparently couldn’t stand the taste of pears so much so that Lucette noticed herself starting to forget how she even liked their taste before.


And maybe it was just her imagination, but bruises and scrapes seemed to heal faster than normal, not that she got a lot of them in this life, which was also very strange, especially because Lucette does not remember a time in her previous life where she wasn't covered in bruises (she was not clumsy just unlucky ok?) 


She picks up on things much quicker too, she was smart before sure, one had to be to become a teacher, but nothing like this, whilst before she had to think about things, now it just seems that her body does it for her, no effort needed, it is jarring to experience. She hopes she will get used to it over time, just as she hopes that she will get used to the magic that she could feel coursing through her veins.


Her new body seems to be in tune with magic, fully embracing it. But her mind and memories from her previous life completely reject it. It felt wrong and out of place, unnatural and and 


And she really needed to stop thinking about this and focus more on the issue at hand. 


Where was he? He usually waited for her by this time.


“Dobby.” she calls out, since she couldn't find him in his usual room, he was probably doing chores somewhere within the house but the mansion was too big and Lucette had a tree to visit.


It was only for a second, maybe even less, but Lucette feels a slight shift in the air, something akin to a light breeze, it felt slightly warm and then-


A popping noise. 


A very loud popping noise.


[It was green and earthy. It was Dobby]


And a very worn out looking Dobby.


He was clutching his hand.


Blood was dripping on the floor.


Chapter Text

Dobby was hurt. 








And Lucette was not okay with that. At all. 


All thoughts of Hong outside were immediately forgotten and cast away from her mind to focus on the small elf.


She quickly makes her way towards him, reaching out to grab his blood covered hands. Some of his nails were missing.


Dobby flinches away from her, something he hasn’t done for a long time. For months.


Shit. You idiot you scared him!


That was a mistake on her part. 


She really should've known better than to make any sudden movements. 


She felt... a lot of things, too many things all at once that she had to mentally sort through them, one by one. Fear, Worry and... anger.


No, she wasn’t angry. Lucette was furious, the intensity of her emotions surprises her but she doesn’t even try to stop them. Because Dobby was making so much progress, and now this


Half of her wanted to yell and shout, and the other half (the more reasonable one, the adult one) wanted her to be calm and go comfort her friend.


Lucette can find out what happened after she helps him. His health and well-being was more important than her own needs.


Chapter Text

Lucette knew that she needed to disinfect the area and bandage it, the only question he had was how exactly she would do that?


And where exactly she would have to go in order to get such supplies? She doesn’t know. Lucette was finding herself uttering those words quite a lot as of late. She only knows the extent that the books and movies delved into, 


She was unaware of any medical equipment in her home or if there even was any to begin with. But she (unfortunately) remembers the gruelling days of her infancy, and how painful teething had been, painful up until the servants applied what she had at that time with her limited knowledge dubbed a ‘miracle gel’ (and looking back on it now... well, hindsight is twenty-twenty) so Lucette knows there must be a room somewhere with supplies at the very least. 


She decides to asks Dobby. 


“Dobby.” This time, she makes sure to make her voice as soothing and quiet as possible as to not further startle her friend. She is very careful to make her posture as non-threatening as possible.


“Do you know where I could find some bandages or...” she hesitates. “Healing potions?”


He frantically shakes his head. “No! Dobby can’t! He is not allowed to heal himself!”


Not allowed. The way Dobby had phrased that sent alarm bells in her head, she recognized this as one of those instances where her brain would already know what was going on, and she would only need to think on in in order to mentally catch up with it. Something was wrong and she needed to figure out what.


Think Lucette. You have a clever mind, use it to your advantage.


He said he can’t as in, he was ordered not to seek medical treatment.


He said he wasn’t allowed. Why would that be cause for alarm? Wasn’t he a house elf? Of course he has to listen to—


Orders. Dobby, as a house elf was bound by contact to obey whatever orders are given to him. 


Exept that, Dobby was contractually obligated to listen to her. Lucette remembers that being on the contract she signed. 


He doesn’t have to listen to anybody that wasn’t Lucette. 


So then, who was giving orders if not her? And how can they do that if Dobby was bound to her by contract.




Her stomach sinks as a thought races through her head. A very unpleasant and terrifying thought.


But it just can’t be true. Lucette must be overthinking this, but a bigger part of her insisted that paranoia or not, there was a good chance she was right. This truly wasn’t something she could ignore and that thought terrified her.


Shit. Shit shit shit shit


Just what exactly had she been made to sign that day?


Chapter Text

She can’t panic. Not now, later. Lucette can panic later.


She can save the panicking for later, because right now she had more pressing matters to attend to.


Dobby was still injured, and he needed her not panicking.


Focus on Dobby, and then think about everything else later. Dobby was more important.


Dobby first.


She keeps repeating that in her head in a desperate attempt to calm herself down, to distract herself from any other thoughts but her friend in need.


Focus on helping Dobby. Your friend needs help.


It worked.


“Is there anything I could do to help you?” She inquires. Because she doesn’t trust anyone in this mansion to care for Dobby. She likes them and can to some degree trust them with her own safety, but at the end of the day, they were only servants, only servants that worked under her father no less, someone whom she was sure had something to do with Dobby getting hurt, information she files away to ponder upon and plot her revenge later.


Right now, her friend needed her help and she was willing to do anything to provide it for him.


When Dobby doesn’t say anything, she tries again. “A... spell perhaps?” The shit she was willing to go through for her people...


Well, that got his attention at least. He looks up at her, surprise colouring his adorable elf features. He open his mouth, about to ask a question and then his ears flop down, he hesitates before talking.


“Mistress is without a wand.” He mumbles.


Lucette cannot believe she was doing this. But, it would be worth it for her friend. To see him not be in pain would be worth it.


“That’s fine. Wizards and witches don’t really need wands to preform magic do they?” Well, she already knew that from reading the books. But Lucette also had a real life reason for knowing that. It being her lovely tutor, whom was ever so insistent on teaching her the basics of magic, without actually teaching her how to preform it because, well, it was technically illegal. 


But wandless magic wouldn’t be picked up by the trace. They would just assume it to be another case of accidental magic, which was what she was counting on.


Dobby looks very hesitant, but unfortunately for him, Lucette knew exactly what to say in order to get him to agree.


“I’m just really worried about you Dobby,” she wasn’t even lying about that, she widens her eyes and gives him what she hopes to be very cute and sad puppy eyes (because she knows from experience how effective they can be as she herself had been helpless against such formidable powers in the past) “I only want to help you get better. Please? Dobby, for me?”


Please. She thinks to herself. I’ll take any distraction that I can get right now.


The poor elf falls for it, hook, line and sinker. Never underestimate the powers of the almighty puppy eyes.


And as Lucette would soon come to learn, there was a reason people used wands when casting magic.


Chapter Text

“Episkey.” She starts to feel the foreign energy coursing through her veins, refining and channeling towards Dobby’s mutilated fingers. 


Now if only half of her being didn’t completely reject the notion of magic, Lucette imagines this would be so much more easier.


Her magic floats out and


It frizzles our before it can transform. This was only her sixth try but Lucette was really starting to get impatient. And on top of all that, she feels stupid chanting the spell every time, only for it to be a failure. 


Which kind of makes her wonder.


How the hell had Tom Riddle managed to do any of this, without being taught no less? Because as much as the thought of that monsters existence terrifies her to her very core Lucette has to admit that he was pretty damn impressive (that is of course, if she really was living within the canonical Harry Potter). Especially now that she has first hand experience on just how different wandless magic could be.


Perhaps sensing the beginnings of her frustration, Dobby opens his mouth, probably to suggest they stop or insist that he was fine. She very quickly puts an end to that by glaring at him, daring him to try and stop her. He takes the hint and looks away.


Lucette closes her eyes and concentrates. The outside world fades out, still there but out of reach.


She drifts, remembering Dobby’s advice. Look for your magic, look for yourself.


She takes a deep breath and reaches down into herself, her heartbeat echoes within the void, she goes down further and further until she finds the door.


Knowing exactly what was coming next, she braces herself and slightly nudges the door open. Immediately she was overwhelmed by a rush of what could only be described as Lucette. This is me. This is my magic. If felt warm and cold, very gentle and soothing, painful and sharp. Familiar yet so foreign. Old and new. All the good and bad that was Lucette, all of her flaws, kindness, selfishness, shortcomings— everything and nothing all at once hits her. She was prepared for this, and yet every time she is left astounded and overwhelmed.


Lucette was in the midst of a hurricane, trying to control it. A very difficult feat to achieve. 


But not impossible. Perhaps she is unable to control the raging storm and crashing waves, but Lucette does not need to. She merely needs to redirect it, take a small piece of it and funnel it through. Refine it. Make it as thin as possible.


And so, she does just that.


She reins it in, directing the right amount needed for the spell towards her veins. 


The first part (the most difficult) of casting the spell was over. Now for part two; intent. A lesson that her very lovely tutor; Doily, had long since hammered into her skull as fact.  


Without intent, magic and in extension, its user, would be rendered completely useless, inaffective. You can have the best wand, the most precise control over your magic, yet all would be for naught without intentions. Your magic is who you are, it knows who you are, your insecurities, your weaknesses. You cannot lie to your magic. If you have no desire for the spell to take effect, then it simply will not. 


Lucky for her, she doesn't have to try very hard to visualize her intent. Heal Dobby’s hands. Take away his pain. Mould his skin back together. Regrow his nails. 


“Episkey.” She didn’t need to open her eyes to know that it worked, because she could feel it working. She could feel her magic twisting and shaping itself out after she uttered the spell, she could feel her intent being absorbed by her magic as it leaked out onto Dobby’s hands. 


She had used magic before of course, but that had been so wild and untamed, accidental. Directed by emotions and instinct. But not this. Never like this. This was control, precision, this was her magic doing exactly what she consciously wants it to. And it was breathtaking.


Lucette opens her eyes, feeling a painful headache at the back of her skull. But that did not matter to her. She was back in the real world and Dobby’s hands looking healthy, no injuries in sight. Although... she takes one the elf’s hands and brings it up to her face for closer inspection. Three of Dobby’s nails (ones that were previously torn out) were significantly longer than the other two. By an inch or two.


Huh. She’ll make it up to him later. But for now... 


Lucette allows herself to finally relax. She beams at Dobby and switches her hold on his hand to be more comfortable.


“I hear we are having some very important guests over this night,” she begins, slightly excited about the fact, because having people over was a slight rarity in this household, it’s usually her father that gets invited to important dinners and meeting with politicians and all that boring stuff. Lucette was not looking forward to the day she turns nine because she would be forced to accompany her father on these meeting in order to ‘learn how to be a respectable heir to the Malfoy name’. She shudders thinking about it. What she was looking forward to however, was the very delicious food and deserts that the chefs would no doubt be making preparations for right at this very moment.


She was initially willing to ignore that in favour of visiting a certain tree. But Dobby needed cheering up. Lucette needed cheering up. 


She was not making up excuses to indulge her very unhealthy cravings for anything sweet okay? She was merely a concerned friend trying to cheer up Dobby. 


“Bonnie is sure to be making all sorts of delicious heavenly treats for me to steal.” It says something about how out of whack her friend is when he doesn’t protest the notion. 


Some chocolate should cheer him up.


Chapter Text

Using too much magic exhausted Lucette. Munching on some chocolate seemed to help ease some of the discomfort she felt up her left arm due to her working up her magic like that, which makes sense when you think of magic as a muscle and extension of one’s body. 


Lucette makes sure that she doesn't overwhelm her stomach with too many sweets, especially since she was expected to attend dinner tonight and interact with the guests her father was having over. Because whoever they were, they certainly would be quite important if the households frantic need for perfection were anything to go by.


Even her father barely spoke to her this morning at breakfast. Not that he was chatty any other day, but he would usually inquire about her studies and such. All she got out of him this morning were instructions to behave nicely in front of the guests.


Needless to say, she was looking forward to meeting these guests of honor. And not just because Bonnie and Toofy have cooked up some divine sweets for her and Dobby (the unwilling participant) to steal. 


She was glad he was feeling better at least. Physically speaking of course, his mental state on the other hand remains to be seen.


Dobby indulged her for a little a while, but she could quickly tell that he was exhausted so she gave him the entire evening off to hopefully rest.


That and Lucette had things she wanted to do this evening, without her friend being there with her.


The Malfoy library.


A place she had done her best at avoiding these past seven years of her life being here, and only ever really stepped foot in there to pick up some required readings that her tutor would assign for her every two months. Usually, if Lucette has any questions, she would merely ask one of her servants and an answer would be provided. But this wasn't something she was willing to trust someone else with.


She needed to find out what was that contract she was made to sign that day without alerting any suspicions of anyone around the mansion, and in order to accomplish that Lucette would have to convince everyone that this new interest in books was simply the beginnings of a hobby and nothing else.


And in order for that to happen, Lucette would have to start out slow, a small book here and there, something the Malfoy librarian would definitely take notice of but nothing that would be too alarming as to rouse suspicion. A story book, something a child would enjoy, and luckily for her, she knew just the right book for this.


She makes her way up the stairs on the eastern hallway. Completely bypassing and ignoring the moving and talking portraits that were trying to get her attention.


Finally making her way to the top, Lucette opens the, quite frankly, giant wooden door and goes in.


Just as Lucette had expected, the librarian looks up in interest at her unexpected presence.


“Oh my! What a delightfully pleasant surprise this is! Come in, come in!”


“Thank you Mr. Clover.”


No matter. Lucette can make do with this. She went in, and headed straight towards the fictional section and began her search, mindful of Clover’s watchful gaze.


“As always dear, be sure to watch out for any books involving any sorts of magical creatures. Although I doubt there would be any in that particular section,” he calls out from his desk.


Ignoring Mr. Clover’s usual and quite redundant warning, Lucette begins her search. Humming a familiar tune to herself as she scans the shelves for the book.


T.... Ta.... Te... Th..




Triumphantly, she grabs a hold of the book and pulls it out from its shelf.


The Tale of the Three Brothers by Beedle the Bard.