The Potions Master's Daughter

PART 2, Chapter 2: The strange dinner at Malfoy Manor

The 3rd of August came quicker than Alice expected. She woke up in the early hours of the morning and could immediately feel a strange weight in her stomach, as though she was about to take a Transfiguration exam.

The thought of soon embarking on a trip to the Malfoy Manor seemed rather ominous. Alice kept wondering why exactly she agreed to come in the first place. She and Draco had never been close. For the past three years, it was Daphne and Blaise whom she stuck with. Draco, Theodore, and their faithful bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle formed a separate group, along with Pansy and her gang. That didn't change the fact, however, that they were Daphne's childhood friends; almost like a family, basically. Some of them even were loosely related, like all pure-bloods these days.

In the three years of being a Slytherin, Alice had grown to understand that there was an unbreakable, invisible bond between the families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight; the kind of bond that didn't just go away once you stopped being friends with someone. Daphne didn't necessarily enjoy Draco's company, that was true, but it didn't change the fact that she'd known him since she was a baby; their families were close, they had mutual friends, they grew up in the same area. That kind of relationship didn't just fizzle out with time; it was kept up, like a long-standing tradition that no one knows the origins of, but everyone upholds like it is the most sacred, inviolable practice.

When Alice got sorted into Slytherin, she too became part of the pure-blood circle, albeit involuntarily. She'd grown accustomed to hearing stories about her friends' shared childhoods, their common acquaintances, reminiscences and fond memories. She had learnt to accept that she (like Blaise) was different; that she wasn't really a part of their sacred family tree.

Even though she pretended it wasn't so, she would sometimes feel like an imposter within their group; someone who didn't quite belong. Blaise at least had some sort of aristocratic background; Alice didn't even know what her background was.

As the day progressed, Alice was beginning to feel increasingly anxious and tense. She kept imagining what the Malfoy family would be like. She'd seen Lucius Malfoy's picture in the paper a few times; he was quite famous for being an important figure at the Ministry of Magic. What would Draco's mother be like? Nice? Mean? Like or unlike her son? How would they react to seeing Alice in their house? What would they think about her? Had Draco mentioned that Alice wasn't a pure-blood? If he had, they probably wouldn't have invited her to their house in the first place.

In the afternoon, Alice came down to the living room, clutching Daphne's letter in her hand. She had tied her long hair in a tight knot behind her neck and managed to pick out the least Muggle-looking clothing she had in her closet, knowing Draco's attitude to anything non-magical.

Aunt Honora, who'd been busy knitting, looked her up and down as she entered the room. Alice's slick attire seemed very out of place in the modest countryside cottage. She sat down, not looking at her aunt, whose gaze seemed to be saying 'Why are you trying so desperately to fit in, Alice?'

'Who's that friend you'll be seeing, then?' she asked offhandedly, focusing back on the horrendous looking knitted scarf before her.

'Draco Malfoy,' Alice replied, and Aunt Honora stiffened on the couch.

'Does Severus know you'll be out?' she asked after a moment, her voice suddenly becoming cold and unpleasant. Alice looked at her. Not for a second did she think to let Snape know.

'I haven't told him,' she said carefully, 'why?'

Aunt Honora narrowed her eyes. 'I thought he'd like to know where his daughter goes off to at night.'

Alice pursed her lips. The way Aunt Honora said the word 'daughter' annoyed her. She didn't say it in a loving, supportive way; it sounded more like she was telling Alice off for misbehaving. As a matter of fact, Aunt Honora and Snape had two very different definitions of the word 'daughter'. For Aunt Honora, it was a position of inferiority: a child was to listen to their parents' every command. She had probably learnt it in her own childhood. From the vague mentions of Eleonora Prince, Aunt Honora's mother, it seemed like she was a rather rigorous woman. Of course, Aunt Honora loved Alice more than anything else in the world (that's what she often said, at least), but she'd made it her own personal duty to educate her on how to 'properly behave'.