Darcie entered the Dining Hall wearing a purple gown with silver embroidery at the edges.
A simple silver necklace with white-gold pearls, matching her long hair, rested around her slender neck.
Narcissa nodded to herself as she looked at her daughter.
Draco's jaw dropped. Surely, the time wasn't enough to straighten the hair? He thought.
Just below Darcie's bedroom, there were two chambers on the ground floor, their windows facing south and southeast. It was there her father hosted guests and conducted business-related meetings.
There were two paths for one to reach the Dining room from those chambers.
The first was to barge through the Great Hall on the ground floor, and then via kitchen, up the service stairs, just step directly into the Dining room.
It was the shortest route, but unrefined. Not to mention extremely rude.
Such actions and paths were best left to children, the sick, and the old.
The second was to follow the grand, winding stairs to the first floor. Then, keeping the family's bed chambers to one's left, one could pass through the Drawing room, where a gallery linked it to the Dining room.
This route provided a splendid view of the tapestries hanging by the first floor's landings, and a panoramic view of the Great Hall.
Now Darcie heard muffled steps reaching her ears from the gallery.
Narcissa grabbed Draco's shoulder and thrust him near Darcie, as he was about to race to the kitchen. With her one piercing glare, Draco stiffened, straightened the folds on his tunic and little coat, and gave Darcie a side glance.
With his hair oiled and pushed back, Draco's face looked more pointy than ever, Darcie noticed.
"What?" she asked.
"How did you…"
"Shut up!" Narcissa snapped. "They are here."
Her father entered first, wearing a long, black-green doublet with rich embroideries. His cane was in his hands, and like Draco, his hair was pushed back as well, streaming down his back like a waterfall. He was laughing, looking over his shoulder, and then stepped aside, letting the guest have a full view of the Dining room.
Millicent Bagnold had gray hair, blue eyes, a plain face that boasted lost beauty, and a straight back.
Today she was wearing a long, rippling gown, red color with little, blue petals at the edges. There was a red-blue checkered jacket on her, making her look as formal as Darcie had seen her in the Daily Prophet often. Like her, the minister of magic also had one necklace around her neck.
A necessary accessory for underage girls, unmarried women, and widows, Darcie thought, remembering a sentence from one of her mother's magazines.
And Millicent Bagnold fitted that sentence perfectly, for she was unmarried through and through.
Narcissa left the children and greeted the minister first, welcoming her to dine with the family.
Draco, her father had told them in the morning, you will receive her outside the gatehouse in the evening. I want you to be on your best behavior. OK? Narcissa, see that Darcie doesn't look like her usual self, and I think that will suffice.
Her parents had shared a laugh between themselves while Draco snorted out a laugh, pointing at Darcie, and calling her a white feral cat. In her defense, Darcie merely stated that she didn't look as bad as her father made it sound.
Nonetheless, the Malfoys can be as charming as desired on the occasions when needed to be, Darcie thought, recalling the off-handed whisper she had heard during the last party.
As Draco merrily introduced himself again and stepped back, the minister's eyes landed on her.
Darcie gave the minister a curtsy, as was expected from her. "Good evening, Ms. Bagnold," she said, straightening herself. "I am Darcie Malfoy. It's an honor to meet one of the greatest witches in Britain."
Millicent beamed at her, gently nodded, and neared her. "How beautiful!" she exclaimed, looking down at her. "Thank you. Old as I am, I don't get to hear such words often. But I must say, based on the things that I have heard about you, young lady, this feeling of honor is quite mutual."
Lucius guffawed. "That is our Darcie for you," he said, clapping his hands (-the food appeared on the table immediately-). "But you shouldn't dwell on the talks too much, minister. Those are only good tricks at best. Nothing more than that."
Millicent Bagnold smiled at Darcie. "Only good tricks, huh?" she mumbled, only for Darcie's ears. "I wonder."
Her father escorted the minister to the seat right to his own, then. She, Draco, and her mother were to sit on his left, with her mother immediately by his side.
The chairs slid backward by themselves as the three approached the table.
Suddenly, Ms. Bagnold snapped her head towards Darcie. "Come here," she said politely, gesturing at the seat to her right. "Sit beside me. Rarely do I get to enjoy dinner with such pretty girls, forgive me."
Her parents laughed awkwardly but didn't reject the perfectly sensible request.
Darcie went around the table and helped herself to the chair.
The flagons of wine poured drinks for the adults in the cup, and a jar of fresh juice for the children. Lucius then lifted his cup and said, "A toast, minister, to peace and prosperity."
Narcissa followed her husband. "Peace and prosperity!"
Draco mumbled something as well that could've been anything.
When Ms. Bagnold repeated the words, the stiffness in her words failed to go unnoticed by Darcie. But she had added her voice behind her words, and her parents didn't realize the lack of heart behind the minister's words.
Clearly, the minister's idea of peace and prosperity differed from her father's, Darcie reflected.
And suddenly, like a cloudless bolt of lightning, a thought came to her.
Her mother's words from yesterday, her father's odd, sneering grin, and the sudden meeting with the minister of magic; all combined to form a rational conclusion in her mind.
Is her father planning to run for the post of minister of magic? Darcie asked herself. She looked at her father and his proud smile. She also saw the single drop of sweat on Ms. Bagnold's forehead and realized this was the case indeed.
Little as she was, she couldn't comprehend the meaning behind such decisions. But she did know that this meeting meant much more to her father than he had shown them.
As they enjoyed the food, Darcie thought of something. "Father," she said, heads turning towards her, "how about I give Ms. Bagnold a tour of the manor after dinner for a light stroll?"
Narcissa frowned. It was not in the plans she had made for tonight, and it wasn't in Darcie's nature to initiate such things. But both Lucius and Narcissa also knew her odd attachment to the grand wizards and witches, so their expressions bordered shock only, not anger.
It was the minister who looked more than pleased. "Now that would be wonderful," she commented, smiling. "I would love to be in your care then, young lady."
So half an hour later, after finishing their dinner, Lucius reluctantly let go of the minister.
Darcie started from the ground floor, introducing the rooms, and their old occupants, before heading to the first floor. She showed the minister her bedchamber, blushing lightly, and Ms. Bagnold seemed quite impressed by the sheer number of books resting on the table beside the bed.
Then Darcie led her to the second floor, letting the minister enjoy the regal vista of the High Grade Chamber. Through the hall, they entered the Long Gallery. It baffled the minister, seeing how all the ancient wizards' portraits nodded at Dacie first before her.
After introducing the Malfoys' ancestors, their tour ended in the withdrawing chamber.
A plate of tea, biscuits, and cupcakes was already waiting for them there.
Darcie sat down on one chair opposite the minister. The light in the withdrawing chamber was ample as per her liking; cold and a little dark. But Ms. Bagnold didn't seem comfortable with it.
Darcie lifted her hand and uncurled her fingers, pointing at the candelabra over their heads.
All candles came alive suddenly, the entire chamber brightening up with a red-golden glow. It was one of the things that her mother had made her do countless times in front of other witches before.
"How fascinating!" the minister blurted, looking at Darcie. "Only good tricks, your father told me. Haha!"
Darcie sipped her tea and looked out through the bay windows. "I love this place," she said. "It reminds me of a time from the books when we of the wizarding community didn't need to hide so much. Ah! Pardons, Ms. Bagnold. I just…"
The minister's smile widened. "Never mind, Darcie," she told her, cocking her head to look at the darkened lands outside as well. "Let me tell you a secret. I wonder so myself, sometimes. But such are the demands of time, and even wizardkind need to adjust, powerful as we are."
"Are we?" Darcie asked, now looking up at the old witch. "Powerful, I mean."
The minister seemed too stunned to answer Darcie's sudden question.
"My father once told me," Darcie explained, "that the entire wizarding community rests on the foundation of restrictions. Does being powerful mean losing one's freedom, then?"
Ms. Bagnold's expression softened. "No, child," she said, shaking her head. "Your father told you the truth, I am afraid. We have indeed lost a part of our freedom for the greater good. But you won't understand it…"
Something about Darcie's eyes made the minister think better of what she was about to say.
Darcie now looked a little flushed and expectant. "May I ask you a question, minister?" she asked, placing her cup neatly on the table. The flame over the candles seemed to dim, focusing on the two ladies.
Ms. Bagnold almost sighed in relief at the change of topic. "Anything, young lady," she said, and then chuckled. "Other than secrets, of course."
Darcie took a deep breath. "Who is more powerful in Britain?" she asked. "The Minister of Magic or the Headmaster of Hogwarts."
Once again, Ms. Bagnold showed her shock by raising her eyebrows.
None could deny that Albus Dumbledore was more powerful than Millicent Bagnold. The only thing was, that considering their previous discussion, it seemed unlikely that Darcie had asked about the persons.
She meant the positions. And so was the conclusion the minister must have reached, for she said, "I don't know."
Darcie nodded, not a bit affected by the lack of an answer.
"I had vastly misunderstood the things I've heard about you, young lady," Ms. Bagnold said, sighing. "Underestimated is the right word. What do you think? Who is more powerful?"
This was a thin ice Darcie was walking on. There was no right answer to these questions, and what she said next would dictate a lot of things related to the Malfoys and her life.
But Darcie had no such thoughts.
She was but a 6-year-old girl, who had just read too many books for her good. So when she answered, the words felt most natural and true to all ears.
"No one," she told the minister. "We have a symbol of peace, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, in my opinion. We have a symbol of justice, the minister of magic. But, I couldn't find any symbol of power, Ms. Bagnold."
Both witches looked at each other. Darcie's green eyes were pure, thoughtful, and dreamy. Millicent's eyes were piercing, with an admiring stupefied depth. "Is that what you want to be?" she asked. "A symbol of power?"
Darcie shook her head. For the first time, she smiled, and said, "I just want to live in a world where I can read and learn as much as I want, where I can go as my heart pleases, and where I wouldn't need to hide."
Ms. Bagnold laughed. "Merlin's beard!" she blurted. "I never thought I would hear such words from a little girl, and a Malfoy at that. A symbol of peace, justice, and power. Now that would keep me up for days, I think. Sigh!"
"I am sorry…"
"No." The minister lifted her hand, gazing at Darcie in a renewed light. "You made me remember that one shouldn't live on other's notions too much," she said. "You have nothing to apologize for. Let's go. Lucius must be worried, thinking if I have disapparated with you. To tell you the truth, I do have a mind to snatch you away from him."
"Thank you for the compliment, minister —"
"Call me Milli," Ms. Bagnold whispered as if it was a secret between her and Darcie.
"Umm — Milli," Darcie said, leading the minister down the stairs. "Would you like to come to the Halloween Party?"
"Of course!" Mr. Bagnold said. "And here we are."
Lucius and Narcissa were standing together, looking like two beautifully carved statues.
"Lucius," the minister said, "I think I have an answer for you."
Under the shocked gazes of mother and daughter, Lucius and Ms. Bagnold left the Great Hall, disappearing behind the tall columns at the entrance.
After a few minutes, following a low whip-like crack, Lucius returned.
Narcissa ran to him, but he ignored her completely, coming to a stop in front of Darcie. "What happened up there?" he asked, looking confused, but delighted. "What did you tell her?"
Darcie shook her head. "Nothing, father," she answered. "I just said I like the scenery around the manor."
"The scenery around the manor…" Lucius mumbled and then laughed, his voice booming against the Great Hall's walls.
***************
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