Prologue:
A woman sat on the cold throne, her expression remote. Hair as dark as a raven’s wing was bound back with a moonstone circlet. A large black tomcat sat at her feet, purring. Cat and woman watched as a young man came towards them, his footsteps echoing in the twilight dimness of the empty hall. He was the boy she had loved, and the man she had left. Somehow, he had found her again.
How long since we first met? It is hard to measure time here, but it seems long ago. . . .
A girl stood on the busy train platform, watching the bustle around her. Her companion, a large black cat, sat beside her, purring and rubbing his head against her knee in comfort. Her hands were damp with nerves, although her face was calm. Keeping up appearances was important, and she was well practiced. She looked over to the carriages that waited, and to the skeletal horses that pulled them.
“Firs’ Years! This way!” boomed out a large voice.
She turned and walked towards the enormous man holding a lantern.
Crossing the water was difficult, and passing the iron gates at the castle entrance was almost as hard.
It will get easier; it will, she told herself firmly. Iron won’t really burn me; moving water will not hurt me. It’s just something I learned from the Fair Folk, because it hurts them. But I’m not one of them, it won’t hurt me.
Still, she was not calm, not composed as she stood in line with the other first year students. She breathed deeply and tried to give nothing away. She felt her heart beating fast in her chest and looked sideways to see if anyone noticed.
“Corax, Corrina.”
She stepped forward as her name was called and put the Sorting Hat on her head.
Later that evening, at the long tables full of food, she sat quietly as a pale blond boy welcomed her to Hogwarts, and to the proud house of Salazar Slytherin. She was entranced “ his handsome face was narrow and fine boned and he seemed so assured, so comfortable in this place, which was so strange to her.
“Of course it is quite an honour to be sorted into Slytherin… uh…. Corax. That’s an unusual name, not one of the old wizarding family names, is it?”
“It is an old name… so I am told. But I don’t know much about it. I was a…” she almost said, changeling, but caught herself “…adopted.” Several faces turned to her, surprised. Adoption wasn’t common among wizarding families. And not knowing who your family was would certainly be a handicap in Slytherin, where the pureness of blood was tantamount to rank.
“But your parents weren’t Muggles?” the boy persisted.
“Oh, of course not…”
What was a Muggle?
He stopped as a large, black cat appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, wound around Corrina’s legs, and jumped on the bench beside her, and peered over the table top. The cat laid back his ears and growled low in his throat.
“I’m sorry….” She laid a hand on the cat.
It’s all right, I’m not distressed. Not really. It’s just so . . . different.
“He is very protective. He has been my familiar ever since I can remember.”
And he is the only family I have in this world, the only one I can trust.
As they were led back to the Slytherin quarters, the boy stayed beside her.
“I am Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy.” She glanced sideways at him, at his handsome face and ice blue eyes. He was like a Faerie princeling, but human, solid, real. She could feel the heat rising off his skin and smell his mortality.
She seemed unnaturally composed, especially for a first year. Malfoy remembered putting on the Sorting Hat two years ago, and his apprehension; what if he wasn’t in Slytherin? What would his father say if he was in…Hufflepuff?? Or worse, Gryffindor? He would like to have been as calm as this milk pale girl, with her black hair and pale fog eyes “ strange and fascinating.
“Well, then… uh… the girl’s dormitories are to the right, your trunks will be there, and …. uh…”
Malfoy’s voice trailed off as Corrina dipped him a small graceful curtsy, murmuring, “Thank you.” She smiled at him with lowered eyes, and went to the right.
The dorm was cosy, with four poster beds and heavy velvet curtains in black and emerald green. She looked at the three other girls in the room, wondering what to do next. She was used to having a body servant, someone to help her with her lacings, but these girls were wearing clothes with unfamiliar fastenings, and there didn’t appear to be any servants at all. The cat jumped on the bed and made himself at home. He looked at her and gave her a reassuring cat smile.
She hesitated, and then went up to the girl next to her, the one with chocolate skin and an anxious look on her face.
“Please, could you help me?”
The chocolate girl looked surprised, hesitated, and said, “Sure, turn around.”
“I say! What a lovely frock!”
With her school robes off, the opulence of Corrina’s attire attracted the other girls’ attention. The heavily embroidered silk in green and the surcoat of brocade with dagged sleeves seemed to be from another time, rich and romantic.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m Nadine Zabini, by the way.”
“Eleanor Aubrey.”
“Violet Parkinson.”
“I am Corrina Corax. This is my familiar, Zwarthart”.
She curled up in the feather bed, Zwarthart warm against her back. Corrina closed her eyes, and thought of the boy who looked like a Faerie prince. She smiled as she slept.
The next morning, Corrina watched carefully as the other girls prepared for the day, copying how they used the fixtures that produced hot and cold water. As she followed them into the main hall, she stopped and gaped at the ceiling.
“Oh yes, it’s enchanted to look like the weather outside,” one of the second-year Slytherin girls told her with a slight sneer. “Didn’t your parents let you know what to expect?”
Corrina looked at her a little wildly, unable to tell her that it wasn’t the appearance of the ceiling that caused her reaction but the sight of the sky. Enchanted or true, this was the first blue sky that she had seen since she was a very small child. Her heart was beating rapidly, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground was falling away from her.
“Shut it, Pucey.”
Malfoy’s voice came from behind them. Audrey Pucey eyed him speculatively and with a toss of her hair seated herself with other girls in her class. They put their heads together and giggled, sneaking glances at Malfoy as he went and sat with his cadre of third year boys.
Zwarthart appeared and lightly jumped to the bench beside Corrina. He looked over at Audrey, pulled back his lips, and hissed. Corrina couldn’t but agree with him. With a final glare, he curled up against her leg and accepted the bits of breakfast she fed to him.
“Don’t mind her,” whispered Nadine from Corrina’s other side. “She thinks she is so grand, but my brother says she’s just a half-blood bully.” Corrina smiled at her as schedules were handed out. She glanced at hers and followed the other Slytherins to their first class.
A tall, stern-looking witch watched the new students walk in, automatically spotting the potential troublemakers. Years of practice had made her proficient, but she was certain that this group of first years could not be as much of a handful as her third year class where she had had a Weasley, a Potter and a Malfoy. Why the headmaster insisted on scheduling Slytherin and Gryffindor together was something she found beyond her comprehension.
As she demonstrated some minor transfiguration, she noticed that the girl in the back row never looked straight at her. That was unusual, since turning the desk into a pig and back normally made an impression on the students. The girl didn’t seem to be taking notes, either. She was playing with her quill, as if she had never handled one before.
“All right class, please take out your wands and pass back the matches. The assignment today is to attempt to turn them into needles. Miss Corax, since you don’t seem to need to take notes, perhaps you can demonstrate the technique to the class?”
Corrina froze and looked up straight into her eyes. Unconsciously, Professor McGonagall took a small step back at the shock. They were such strange looking eyes, as pale as if the pigment had been faded by the passage of time.
“Well? Wand out, if you don’t need to take notes. Perhaps you do need to practice?”
Corrina reached into her bag slowly and carefully dragged out her wand by the merest tips of her fingernails. She dropped it quickly and looked up, trying to smile. McGonagall looked back at her. Most of the class had now turned to watch the stand off and the Gryffindors were elbowing each other and snickering. Nadine sat beside Corrina and bit her lip, worriedly.
“Go on,” she whispered. “Pick it up and use it.”
Corrina looked at her, swallowed and picked up the wand. A wave of heat went up her arm; her hair crackled and stood on end. Showers of red, blue and emerald sparks burst out the tip and exploded across the room, igniting several tables and a couple of heads of hair. Students screamed and ducked under desks.
“Drop it, DROP IT!!” shouted Professor McGonagall as she put out the fires.
After the smoke cleared and students had been sent off to the infirmary to have their burns treated, Professor McGonagall dismissed the class, dissipating the lingering reek of burned hair with a practiced swish of her wand.
“Miss Corax, stay behind, please.”
Corrina sat with her head low as the class trooped out. The last Gryffindor, a red-headed girl, passed her and looked down at the perfect, silver needle on the table beside Corrina’s wand.
“Well, I don’t suppose you needed to take notes, did you?” Lily Potter muttered, and the door clicked shut behind her.
“Miss Corax, where did you procure this wand?”
Corrina rose and eyes lowered, curtseyed.
“Madam, after I received my letter the wand was delivered to . . . the place I live. It was made for me by Master Ollivander.”
“You may address me as Professor, Miss Corax, and you needn’t stand when you speak, not that politeness in a student is to be discouraged. Now, if I may, I would like to examine your wand.”
Corrina nodded, and McGonagall picked up the wand.
“It is . . . rowan? That’s an unusual choice. And what is the core?”
“I believe it is . . . a hair.”
“Hmmm . . . .” She put down the wand.
“Now, I am not an expert in wandlore, but I do know that wands help us focus magic. Your magic does not seem to be in need of focusing. Your magic appears to be in need of controlling.”
Crossing her arms and looking stern, she fixed Corrina with a beady stare.
“I think you would benefit from wand practice. Preferably outdoors, away from flammable objects.”
Professor McGonagall picked up the silver needle.
“Successful completion of one minor transformation does not make you an expert. I would like a three foot essay on techniques used in elementary Transformation by Monday next. And I will be assigning you a tutor to help you with your wand practice.”
“That is all. You may go, Miss Corax.”
Corrina bit her lip. She could feel a little bubble of panic in her chest, and she fought to keep it from rising to her throat.
“Madam, surely the essay is not needed?”
“That is all, Miss Corax. You are dismissed to your next class.”
Corrina walked out towards the greenhouses, feeling the panic bubble bobbing in her chest. As she opened the door, a tall, round-faced man turned towards her. She paused and looked around. Everything was green and growing. For the first time since she had arrived to Hogwarts, she felt herself relax. She sniffed the warm, rich smell of earth appreciatively and smiled as she bobbed a curtsey, her eyes demurely lowered.
Neville Longbottom’s eyebrows reached above his protective glasses.
“Well, this must be our misplaced student, Miss Corax. Please take a seat and a pair of glasses, and we will continue.”
Nadine whispered, “Was she mad? Did you get detention?”
Corrina shook her head, and turned to watch the demonstration.
Scorpius looked around the common room. It was the end of the first week, and the room was full of Slytherins renewing their rivalries and friendships.
“Does anyone know where Corax went?” he asked.
“She’s probably out on the grounds . . . again.”
Audrey Pucey’s voice held more than a hint of scorn.
“She was out there crying after Potions this afternoon, and I heard that she giggled all through Professor Binns’ History of Magic class. What d’you think could be so funny about that dreary old berk?”
“Back off, Pucey.”
“I will if you make me,” Audrey simpered, batting her eyes. “I don’t know why you want to find that vile, little thing. And that cat . . . it’s vicious.”
“I’m to tutor her on wand handling.”
“Huh, imagine not knowing how to use a wand! What a laugh. And now she gets special tutoring. I don’t suppose she is a pure-blood. How can she even be a half-blood and not know how to handle a wand?”
Scorpius gave her a disgusted look and walked out.
He stood on the castle grounds, looking around indecisively. He didn’t know her well enough to know where she might be, and he hadn’t thought of picking up an item of hers to use with a Locating Spell. Now that he thought of it, she didn’t leave things lying around the common room. She was remarkably unobtrusive.
Something bumped against his leg and he looked down at the large black cat. Zwarthart turned and walked away, paused to see if he was following, and with an impatient twitch of his tail headed towards the Forbidden Forest.
Corrina was sitting on a boulder at the edge of a clearing, holding out her hand to thin air.
“What are you doing?”
“Petting the thestrals.”
Tearstains marked her cheeks, as she stroked the invisible animals. Scorpius had heard of thestrals, but until now, hadn’t really believed in them.
“You can see them?”
He shook his head, wondering who she had seen die, and trying to decide if he was jealous; it seemed like it would be cool and worldly “ to be able to see thestrals.
“Right. Wand practice. Do you have your wand with you?”
She nodded and carefully fished it out of her robes.
An hour an a half later, Scorpius stopped. As he stooped to scratch Zwarthart, who had deigned to rub against him, he smiled to himself.
She’s a quick study, all right. Lots of ability there, and she pays attention. Pretty rare, that.
It was good to have some fresh talent in Slytherin house; it wouldn’t do to be outdone by the Gryffindors . . . especially with the new Potter girl in the first year class. It was all he could do to stay ahead of the Weasley girl in his class. He knew she was a cousin of some sort, but there was something between their parents . . . something awkward in the past that his father had never come out and said.
“You seem to be getting the hang of it. And I would say that if all you got for lighting half the Gryffindors’ heads on fire was a three foot essay, you got off easy from McGonagall.”
He straightened up and the smile dropped off his face.
“What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
Corrina had dissolved in silent tears. She shook her head and took a shuddering breath, struggling for control.
“I . . . I can’t write the essay.”
“Oh come on! It’s not that long.”
She looked at him through welling eyes.
“I don’t know how to write.”
“You don’t know how to write? Can you read at least?”
She dropped her head and shook it.
“All right,” he took a deep breath. “Right. Okay. Well, I guess I can tutor you on that too. Just do me a favour, can you?”
She nodded wordlessly, giving him a watery smile in the growing twilight.
“Don’t tell Audrey Pucey any of this. She’ll just rag on you about it and on me too.”
They turned and walked towards the castle, Zwarthart bounding through the frost-bleached grass, chasing dust and twilight shadows.