Sunday, 24 May 1987
Greengrass Manor, Oxfordshire
The flames in the fireplace roared green, and Darcie walked out covered in ash and soot.
She was wearing a light green frock, richly embroidered in silver and gold.
Her long, white-gold hair was spilling down to her waist, as smooth as silk, and tied behind her back using a black headband. The headband kept rippling, caressing her hair as if it was breathing.
Darcie's skin had gained a whiter hue in these last months, giving her an enchanting, fatal appearance.
It was as if the most beautiful princess from ancient times had awakened from the dead, without losing an iota of her noble presence.
Not to mention, because of the dozens of columns on her papers in the Daily Prophet, one just didn't help but feel stifled upon approaching her.
None in this Manor were among those, though.
Darcie swatted away the ashy coating over her frock and smiled at the girl standing in front of her.
"Happy Birthday, Daphne," she greeted, approaching her. "Sorry, I got late. Mother didn't let me come without putting up makeup."
"It's all wasted, anyway," Daphne replied. She rubbed Darcie's left cheek, clearing the leftover soot. "Let me tell mum that you have arrived. We shouldn't dilly-dally anymore."
When Daphne had gone, Darcie cast a wiping spell to cleanse her frock thoroughly.
The birthday party was in the evening, but Darcie had come ahead to help with the preparations.
However, this was only a lie; a little one.
By now, Darcie had already told Daphne everything, from the Hall of Portkeys to the Avalon, and from the Six Seats to the Familiars. Everything.
Of course, as per the Six's warning, she hadn't revealed their identities.
When Daphne returned in February, Darcie also told the truth about her training.
Both girls since then had been getting together in the first half of the week, revisiting the last week's lessons, and learning together.
It didn't need to be said that the matter of Lethifold had scared Daphne the most.
But when Darcie tossed, turned, stretched, and pulled Lilith in front of her several times, the fear on Daphne's face became a rueful smile, making her even pity the dark creature.
"Darcie!" a shrill shout rang in the hall.
Darcie turned to look at the three ladies entering the grand hall.
"Good Morning, Mrs. Rachel," she greeted Daphne's mother. "Hello, Astoria."
Astoria was two years younger than Daphne.
Unlike her older sister, who had blond her like their father, she had black hair and blue eyes. She was a spitting image of their mother, Mrs. Rachel Greengrass.
"Will you take care of the things here, Mum?" Daphne asked, her tone icy, matching her best friend's appearance. "We will return before evening."
Mrs. Rachel smiled.
"It's OK," she told them. "Do bring the little girl you mentioned before if you can. I will handle your father."
"Her name is Ginny, mum!" Astoria shouted.
Yes, in the guise of preparations for the birthday party, Darcie, Daphne, and Astoria were going to the Burrow to spend an afternoon among the Weasleys.
Darcie and Daphne had already visited the Weasley's residence once in late March.
But they hadn't stayed there for even half an hour for it to be called a proper visit.
Today, they had planned to spend an afternoon at the Burrow secretly and invite Ginny to the birthday party.
There was just one problem.
Mrs. Rachel glanced at Darcie, her gaze full of sadness.
"Dear…" she mumbled, pinching Darcie's cheek. "What if someone was to know that you went there? It would truly be a great scandal."
None could deny that Darcie's reputation had outgrown her age.
She was but a child. Not even 7. And yet, her visit to a blood-traitor family could topple the entire Malfoy's reputation among their circle.
Darcie's mind was filled with countless things for her to care about such meager things.
If she feared anything, then it was her mother's scoldings.
"Just don't let my mother know," she said, rubbing her cheek. "I'll be fine, otherwise."
Mrs. Rachel burst out with a giggle as she heard Darcie's response.
"Hehe! Well, go on, then," she said, pushing the children to the fireplace. "I've had it connected to the Weasley's fireplace already. Enjoy! And Astoria, I am warning you. Don't be mean."
Astoria hid her face from her mother, but she grinned mischievously when Darcie looked at her.
Darcie took a handful of floo powder from the pot seated over the mantel shelf and threw it in the fireplace.
The fire instantly became green, soaring mightily into the fireplace.
"Me! Me! I will go first!" Astoria shouted, ran, and then, under the shocked gazes of the rest of the ladies, she lunged into the fire. "THE BRROWW!"
With a puff of green flames, the little Greengrass vanished, spinning round and round.
Darcie was gobsmacked. "Did she…" she asked, looking at Daphne, "… Did she just say The Brow?"
"I think she did," Daphne answered, her face paling. "Hurry! Let's go!"
*
*
Darcie walked out last and drowned in the cacophony.
It was the second time she had arrived at the Weasley's kitchen, but its impression on her memory was as fresh as it was during the first time.
The kitchen was at the back of the house, and possessed a distinct cozy aura, Darcie remembered.
There was a large wooden table in the kitchen, lined with plates, and with several chairs around it.
Toward her left, there was a one-handed clock that kept going Bong! Bong!, the end of its hand pointing at — Let the owl out!
Toward her right, on the perch outside the window, the family owl Errol was hooting out of his lungs, recognizing the familiar bongs of the clock.
And surrounded by all this, between the table and ash-covered Darcie, who had just walked out of the fireplace, were the Weasleys, Daphne, and Astoria.
Astoria's entire face was covered in such a thick layer of black soot that even Mrs. Rachel, her mother, would be hard-pressed to recognize her, Darcie believed.
"Get my wand!" Mrs. Weasley was shouting, rubbing Astoria's face. "Where's my wand?!
"For God's sake! Percy! Let Errol out, will you? Fred! George! Where did you hide it? I am telling you two…"
"Now, look at my hands, Mum," Fred said indignantly, showing his hands. "I don't have it. I swear on Ron's life."
"Why me…" Ron grabbed his head as if lightning would strike him the very next moment.
Fred threw him a look and put his hands down behind his back.
George passed the wand to him stealthily.
"I swear, too," he said, showing his hands, "on Ron's life."
"Mum!" Ron looked horror-struck.
"I am here!" Mr. Weasley came running, holding his wand like a trophy. "Let me have a look at her."
It didn't take long after that.
One flick of the wand and Astoria's face was as clean as it could get.
Only then did everyone notice that the number of people in the kitchen had grown by one.
Silence fell upon the entire Weasley family, who seemed to have gathered in the kitchen because of Astoria's wild stunt.
Daphne still had a frown on her face as she looked at her little sister.
Afar, standing behind her mother, Ginny had a silly grin across her thin lips.
Darcie dared to break the silence. It felt like only she could break it, anyway.
"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," she greeted, stepping in. "Sorry for the trouble."
"Ah! No, no…"
Hoooot!!
The owl cut in with more wild hoots, gaining a rather high pitch.
With a flaming look that matched her hair, Mrs. Weasley stomped toward the window and almost threw the owl out.
"Go! … Come, dear," she said amiably, turning around. "I was just plating cupcakes and sweets. Ginny told me you girls like them."
Darcie had already joined Daphne, looking like twin sisters.
"We do," she nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."
"Sit down, you all," Molly barked at everyone, her tone meaning business. "First eat, then do whatever you want.
"Percy! Fetch some spare chairs. Ron! Go with your brother. Fred! I saw you slipping my wand into the fireplace. Get it back, or I swear…"
Among the clamor, none got to know when minutes passed by.