Chapitre 239: Arriving at Diagon Alley - Darcie's Mentor!
November turned out to be the busiest month of the year for the Malfoys.
With the new post of Hogwarts' governor over his shoulder, and Darcie's unavailability in the Manor for at least 5 days a week, the pair of father and daughter had spent a significant amount of their time down in the potions room of the suitcase's library.
Lucius had wanted Darcie to familiarize herself with all the basic potions before leaving.
As some potions' brewing lasted an entire day, they just had the time to go by the books this time, and not play with potions' recipes.
Darcie's rest of the day and a major part of the evening had gone to practice verbal spells with her mother. Not to mention, her parents had strictly forbidden her to let others show she could do non-verbal magic.
Darcie's mornings had gone into playing with broomsticks along with her brother. Draco hadn't talked to her for three days after they had told him Darcie's eventual departure, but by the fourth day, things had gone old and stale, and the children's routine of flying since the last few months had been enough to bring them together again.
Lucius had even allowed Darcie to take her suitcase with her, given that she wouldn't share its secrets with anybody.
Then one day, the Malfoys invited Mr. Pigplanter Hillam, the manager of Flourish and Blotts, for dinner.
After dinner, Lucius had taken his guest to the meeting room on the ground floor for a private audience. When the old man, with white side whiskers on his face, had departed, he had been sweating from head to toe.
It hadn't ended there.
Malfoys' next guest had been none other than the owner of Brews and Stews, Ms. Clutterbuck Crispe, where the ministry had arranged Darcie's indefinite stay.
Ms. Clutterbuck Crispe was a witch in her thirties with long black hair and brown eyes. Her hotel-cum-restaurant shop was just opposite the Flourish and Blotts Bookseller in the Diagon Alley, and thus, her property had been selected for this purpose, she had told them.
She, too, had been taken down to the meeting room, nonetheless. This time, both Lucius and Narcissa talked with her. Unlike the manager of Bookshop, the proprietrix had departed with a beaming expression on her face and praising the generosity of the Malfoys.
Darcie had seen everything and had heard all. Though she had not been let to be a part of these meetings, she knew that both Mr. Pigplanter Hillam and Ms. Clutterbuck Crispe now belonged to her father. Yet, even after her father's excruciating efforts, he had failed to find out who would be the Assistant Manager allotted by the ministry.
By mid-November, the weather had become mild and unsettled, with dense fog claiming the dusk and dawn and wet spells of storms and rain claiming the night.
This somehow also put a stop to the uncountable number of requests from various news agencies to have an audience with Darcie for interviews. The ministry had not released when and how Darcie's education would begin, as proclaimed by the minister of magic, so the mystery had been thick about it for many days.
Yet, even with the unprecedented achievement of her theory getting published in a renowned Journal and making it to the front page of the Daily Prophet, there was only so much attention a 6-year-old could garner from the ever-bored wizarding community.
As November's end approached, only a few persistent ones held onto the little witch and the mystery about her.
But no matter if it was a prominent wizard and witch, who had sent their letter of compliments to Darcie before, or the reporters, none had dared to call on the Malfoy Manor in person.
The name Malfoy, though looked with aversion by many, still held respect, fear, and apprehension about it. But fear above all.
November ended with the last meeting with the minister of magic, who had come with an official document for Lucius and Narcissa to sign and to ensure that everything had gone as it was supposed to.
Ms. Millicent Bagnold hadn't stayed long for Darcie to inquire about her new mentor, but with what little conversation they had, the minister had ensured she would be well taken care of by her. This, at least, had told Darcie that the Assistant Manager would be a woman.
On 30th November afternoon, covered in wool and fur from top to bottom, Darcie ran around her room trying to remember if she had forgotten to pack something.
On the right to her bed, a fire was blazing thick in the hearth, and Daphne was stretching her legs towards it, twiddling her little toes. "You should put on your hat, Darcie," she said, looking over her shoulder. "You are going to get a cold like this."
Darcie picked up the soft, furry hat and pressed it on her head. As the hat came over her ears, she tapped it on both sides twice, feeling the muffled sound. She took a seat opposite Daphne, took off the shoes, and like her friend, stretched her toes towards the fire.
"London is a big place," Daphne commented. "Mother said there are many dangerous things in London."
Darcie knew Daphne well enough to perceive the longing in her voice.
But this was a matter out of her hands, and no matter how much she desired, the ministry would never allow Daphne to work along with her, she knew. "Danger is everywhere," she instead said, looking into the fire with her dark green eyes. "So are the opportunities. One just has to look for them."
Daphne and Darcie together lifted their faces and looked at each other. Their eyes matched.
At last, Daphne nodded. "I understand," she told her. "You are going to Diagon Alley for Wands, right?"
Darcie knew Daphne would figure it out, eventually. "It is one reason, yes," she accepted. "But I do want to have access to more books now, more than ever. Even the muggle ones, I am afraid."
Daphne bobbed her head. "Well," she mumbled, "the Greengrass Manor is in Oxfordshire, you know that. If you don't find any books, then you come there. Mother told me that there's a big and old muggle library in the city."
"I will," Darcie said, accepting the offer instantly.
"Girls!" Narcissa's voice, magnified by magic, echoed in the manor. "Let's go. It's time."
Darcie threw her feet back into the shoes. They had already sent most of her stuff to her would-be room in Diagon Alley. Only a trunk remained, stuffed with her clothes, her enchanted suitcase, and other odd things.
The girls picked it up off the bed, and then Darcie rolled it out of the room. Her mother was waiting for them in the Drawing Room, a thick bundle of freshly baked cupcakes and sweets in her hands.
Color rose to Darcie's face, making her blush. "Mum!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "This is the third one. You told me I can call Dobby to me anytime I want. Then…"
"Nonsense," her mother rebuked. "Just put it in the trunk as well."
After reopening and closing the trunk, Narcissa flicked her wand, and the trunk hovered mid-air by itself. The girls followed her out of the manor, where a neatly dressed Draco, drowned in thick woolen and fur clothing, and Lucius, were waiting for them.
A tiny, shivering figure of Dobby could be seen running behind Darcie with misty eyes.
They all walked to the gatehouse, hissing thin frosty breath out of their mouths. The ministry had permanently linked the Floo Network from the Malfoy Manor to the Brews and Stews, Flourish and Blotts Bookseller, and even the Leaky Cauldron, for just-in-case scenarios.
"I will go first, this time," Draco declared.
"Shut up!" Narcissa snapped. "Your father will go first, then the girls, and then you and me. Dobby will apparate to the place with the trunk."
As the time came for her to leave the home truly, Darcie realized her mother's temper was rising along with it. It was better to not cross paths with her.
The Manor's gatehouse had an enormous fireplace, modified especially for traveling through the Floo Network. There was a large pot resting on the mantelpiece. Lucius went to the mantelpiece and put down the pot on the floor. He took out a fistful of the glittering powder and threw it into the fire.
The searing tongues of red flames instantly turned emerald green with a roar, rising higher than Lucius' height.
This wasn't the first time for Darcie to travel in this way. But after her birthday, this would be the first time in a while for her to use Floo powder again.
Daphne, on the other hand, had become used to it because of her many visits from her home to Malfoy Manor in these past few months.
Lucius stepped into the flames, turned around, and then clearly said, "Brews and stews."
With a bright green flash, Lucius vanished, and the fire regained its original destructive color.
It was Darcie's turn now.
Like her father, she took the glove off her right hand, took out a fistful of the fine powder, and threw it in the fireplace.
Once again, the flames became green and welcoming. Darcie stepped in and faced the rest of them.
Then, with the faintest hint of nervousness, she said, "Brews and Stews."
Darcie had her eyes closed, her elbows tucked in, and her legs pressed together. Even then, she felt things brushing against her as she rushed past them as if she was squeezing herself out of a thin tunnel.
By the time a tingling sensation rose in her stomach, her feet had already made contact with solid ground. Remembering her training, and not letting herself fall into the pile of ashes, Darcie immediately stepped forward and came running out of the fireplace.
Her father caught hold of her, his large arms wrapping around her thin shoulders.
"Good," he said slowly, slapping a few patches of ash off her coat.
Darcie looked around and realized they were on the ground floor of the three-floored property.
The place seemed to have been closed today, considering Malfoys' arrival. Darcie had just seen Mr. Hillam and Ms. Crispe, and one more woman, when she heard another pair of feet landing behind her.
Daphne walked out of the fireplace, followed by Draco, and then her mother. Just after a few seconds, with a loud crack, Dobby apparated near them, holding the trunk by one end.
It was then the unknown person stepped forward, bringing all attention to herself.
She was a thin woman, around 30, and was wearing a large purple overcoat. Her color was dark, and her eyes were winter grey, giving her a delicate charm. She smiled at Darcie amiably.
"Good afternoon," Darcie greeted the three people with whom she would spend a better part of her life. Then she looked at the unknown witch. "May I know the name of the mentor?"
The witch's smile broadened. "Hello, Darcie," she said, crouching to match her gaze. "I am Florine Villanelle. The minister told me we two share many interests between us. I am looking forward to having a great time working with you."
"Yes, Ms. …"
The witch cut in, standing up. "No need for pleasantries, dear," she said, her eyes shining as she looked at her. "If you insist, just call me… Madam Villanelle."
Her parents took over then, finally getting the chance to meet the mentor.
Darcie walked to the tall windows to her right, followed by Daphne. As the girls stood side by side and looked out, they could see it.
Past the dozens of people running up and down the alley, they could see the green door leading into the Flourish and Blotts.
And if Darcie wasn't imagining it, then she was sure she could even smell the books, standing so far with two walls and an alley between her and them.
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