Darcie's adventure on the Halloween night and the valiant Dobby

Halloween in the wizarding community was a nasty business.

A nuisance, especially for the Ministry of Magic, and its employees, who had to deal with the flux of illegal magical objects at the bottommost levels.

Malfoy manor had served the gathering of upper-class wizards and witches for ages. With its pure-blood guests and ancient history of the family, the manor acted as an annual host of Halloween feast where countless matches had been made and would for years to come.

Of course, it also served as a playground for children, providing many candies, cakes, and assortments suitable for the occasion. But the prime reason for the feast had always been to bring together young wizards and witches of marriageable age.

Today, under the bone-chilling windy night, the manor looked like a huge candle in itself.

All around the manor, hundreds of Jack-o'-lanterns were hovering, howling, cackling at the incoming guests. Some were singing, some were chasing children, and some were having an in-fight about who among them was the biggest and scariest.

A huge bonfire was burning in the middle of the vast lawn backside of the manor.

A few spare chairs were dancing on their legs, ghosts were roaming around, presenting themselves to the young and old alike, and children were prancing here and there with ever-changing robes that howled with werewolves costumes, glowed red with vampires costumes, and sprouted a long nose with hags costumes.

Round tables with plates of Barmbrack (-a type of bread-), Bonfire toffee, Candy apples (-biting which revealed tiny figurines of magical creatures-), every flavor beans, fizzing whizzbees (-that caused a person who sucked on them to float a few inches off the ground-), Soul Cakes (-that mimicked a distorted facial appearance of their eaters-), and many drinks to wash these down glided from one end to another in the lawn.

The Halloween feast was also the night when the patriarch of the Malfoy family, Lucius Malfoy, presented the richest collection of wine from the family-owned Malfoy Apothecary. Only the selected group of family's closest friends knew that the Malfoy Apothecary was only a front, and along with winemaking, it served as a central hub of black market trades in many objects of darkest nature, illegally procured magical creatures, poisons, potions, ingredients, and even information. But that was a matter of another time.

Tonight was about wine and wine only. And, yes. To show others that Malfoys only became rich with time, both in wealth and status, their blood being already the purest. Lucius Malfoy hosted the wine tasting in the High Grade Chamber on the 2nd floor, with children claiming the lawn for their own before the adults' subsequent arrival later.

Unlike the usual sight of old women gathered around Narcissa and her daughter, showering them with false praises and falser smiles, today the center of attraction on the lawn was Draco and his new tricks.

Hours of practice with his sister had made him quite proficient in broomstick riding, and Draco, like his father, didn't fail to let all know about it. The group of boys and girls gaped in awe as he swirled on his Nimbus 1500 through the round tables, chasing a particular piece of cake with a pointy chocolate hat acting as a snitch. When he saw the others getting bored and fed up with him being the only one flying, Draco instead started to boast about how he had brewed potions last month, and how he could do magic now, like his sister.

The expressions on the children's faces must have satisfied the young master of the Malfoy family, for he grinned majestically. Suddenly, he looked up towards her sister's room, and saw her silhouette pass by the windows, glowing dimly yellow.

Inside her room, Darcie Malfoy paced around under the light of a chandelier hanging over her head by the chains on the ceiling. With the monstrous talent in reading, learning, and remembering that she had shown her parents in the last few months, she had earned herself quite a few privileges during social gatherings. Early retirement from the function was one of those. Alas! She had failed to deter her mother's desire to show her off to other families equal to their status.

Now she was waiting for a friend before calling it an early night. To prevent others from calling upon her, she had already changed into a green nightgown.

"Are you really going to show the minister of magic this?" Daphne asked. She was wearing a black gown, tattered at the ends, and there was a crooked, pointy hat on her head. Both Greengrasses' sisters had come acting as hags for the feast.

Daphne's aversion to her clothing could be seen clearly on her face, but for now, the scroll in her hands had caught her entire attention.

Darcie grunted a reply. "I've hinted my theories to her in the last few letters," she told Daphne. "And Milli isn't like others, believe me. She knows how to read and see things from a broader perspective."

"I don't understand it thoroughly," Daphne said, putting the scroll away. "What I do know is that people don't take kindly to our families talking about Dark Magic."

Darcie and Daphne's eyes matched briefly, both thinking the same thing. Suddenly, Dobby appeared by Darcie's side with a crack. "Miss Darcie," he squeaked, smiling ear to ear, and wearing the same red cushion cover the girls had forced him to wear on his birthday. "Dobby just saw her enter the manor."

"Good, Dobby," Darcie nodded, patting the house-elf's head. "Thank you."

After half an hour, the minister of magic, Millicent Bagnold, entered her room, with Narcissa following her. She was wearing a long-sleeved purple gown with a Chinese hairpin holding her hair in a tight, but neat bun.

"Good evening, Ms. Bagnold," both girls greeted her together.

The older witch beamed at them. "It's Ok, Narcissa," she said, looking at her host. "Let me have some time with the girls now. I will return soon. You know how busy it gets tonight."

Narcissa smiled, but only Darcie noticed the glint in her mother's eyes when she noticed Daphne. "Sure, minister," her mother said cheerily. "I will send some refreshments for you."

"That will be wonderful," Ms. Bagnold replied.

Narcissa then stepped out and closed the chamber's door partially.

"Now, young lady," the minister said, looking at Darcie, "why don't you introduce me to your friend?"

Darcie nodded. "Milli, this is Daphne Greengrass, my close confidante and a closer friend," she told her. "And Daphne, this is Milli, my mentor and friend."

Ms. Bagnold chuckled. "Don't call me your mentor in front of others," she jested. "Otherwise, your parents will lose hair over it. Sit and tell me what you have for me. You sounded quite thrilled in the letters."

Daphne passed Darcie the scroll, which she handed over to the minister as she helped herself to a cushioned chair.

For a minute or two, Ms. Bagnold went by the scroll's contents with a plain face. But as she kept reading, one of her eyebrows lifted, and a smile surfaced on her face. "Exciting!" she commented. "Now, here is something controversial. Haha! Did you write it yourself? No. Don't answer that. I am not here to insult your intelligence, young lady. But you must know the basics of Dark Arts to even think of the underlining matter mentioned in the scroll…"

Darcie nodded. It wasn't something she had planned to hide. "We bought a few second-hand books using our pocket money, Milli," she lied, and Daphne nodded, her cheeks reddening behind Darcie. "Our parents don't know, I am afraid. After our last talk, I became too interested in knowing more about magic and its history. So…"

"That's not something I would encourage," Ms. Bagnold said, shaking her head. "But if you were to promise me not to do it anymore, I would not tell both of your parents. OK?"

Darcie looked at Daphne over her shoulder and then nodded.

Ms. Bagnold grinned, pinched Darcie's cheeks, and put the scroll away with a wave of her wand. "Let me read it further," she told her. "I will let you know through another letter. And now, I must go. Few knew I would come here, and the news must have already reached the Daily Prophet's reporters by now. You must visit my home sometime and bring Daphne with you if you wish. Goodbye."

"Thank you, Milli," Darcie said and escorted her to the door. "Please come back soon."

The minister of magic giggled like a little girl herself, and then with brisk steps, disappeared behind the corridor leading to the Drawing room.

"I don't think it was right to lie to her, Darcie," Daphne said, breaking the silence.

The two girls observed each other. "As you said," Darcie told her, looking thoughtful, "people don't take kindly to our families talking about Dark Magic. But history says that people don't like absurd truths even more."

Daphne looked troubled, biting her lips as she listened to Darcie. At last, she nodded, and said, "I understand."

*

*

After the guests had gone, the manor fell into silence.

The embers of the Bonfire were glowing red even after midnight, molten fire dancing within as the wind kissed them. The many Jack-o'-lanterns were still hovering around the manor, but they were sleeping as well, a few snoring, blowing the candle within them.

In her room, Darcie was sleeping, her eyelids fluttering as if she was having a nightmare.

-… Come … Darcie … Here … -

Darcie's eyes snapped open. She sat up, and gulped, her head bobbing around in all directions. She was just dreaming of the white serpent again, and she could've sworn that someone had called out her name in her ears.

Despite her composed bearings, a trickle of fear was now welling up in her heart. Never had the whispers and the murmurs sounded so clear to her before. "Who's there?" she demanded.

No answer.

Darcie had just relaxed when the wind whistled in her ears.

- … Come … follow … -

Darice's head snapped towards the doors. There was something outside. With her heart in her mouth, and finding courage in her magical prowess, Darcie stepped off the bed, slipped on her sandals, and walked out of the bedroom.

The corridor leading to the Drawing room was lit with braziers, fire burning low within them. Her parents' bedchamber was to the left at the end of the corridor, and the drawing room was to the right.

Darcie contemplated running to her parents.

It was then she spotted the mist. Silver in white, like stars twinkling in a winter fog. A sudden burst of curiosity drowned her fear, and Darcie followed it.

- … Come … here … -

Whispers, like the hissing of snakes, kept drumming in her ears as she followed the mist down to the ground floor. It didn't stop there and led her across the Great Hall to the kitchen.

When she entered the Kitchen, she saw the mist disappearing down the stairs leading to the Buttery.

"Miss Darcie?" a squeaky voice jolted her from behind.

It took all her strength to not scream. A tiny figure of Dobby, with a fork in his hand, was looking up at her with wide eyes. Darcie put one finger on her lips, and said, "Shush! Come with me, Dobby."

Both the mistress and her servant descended the steps, their steps light as feathers.

Usually, the Buttery only housed casks of beer in the beer cellar. But Malfoy Manor's Buttery was enchanted to store wine as well. And around a feast or social gathering, the doors to the Buttery were usually left open. Such was the case now.

"Dobby will protect Miss Darcie," the house-elf proclaimed, knowing nothing about what was going on. He stepped forward and threw himself into the darkness, swishing the silver fork like a sword. Other than silence, he cut nothing.

Darcie entered, and her eyes found the silver-white glow deep into the darkness.

She raised her hand, focused, becoming specific, believing, and pouring her intention into her imagination. With a pop, a red-yellow fireball sprang up in her palm and hovered mid-air. It wasn't big enough to light up the entire Buttery, but it did let her see a few steps ahead. Any larger, and she would've lost Control, Darcie knew.

With Dobby walking in front of him, Darcie ventured forth, approaching the silver glow more and more.

By the time she reached the end, only a pale glow of the fire in her hand had remained.

Now, with her fear gone, Darcie felt extremely disappointed.

And the hisses returned.

- … Here … See … -

"Who is it?" Darcie demanded again. "Dobby, did you hear it?"

A shaking Dobby looked up. "Dobby heard nothing, Miss Darcie," he squeaked, now even lower than before. "Dobby thinks some ghost didn't leave last night."

No. It wasn't a ghost. That much Darcie could tell after what she had read about them in the books.

But even after looking around for some time, she couldn't find anything. And the voices didn't return either. Darcie didn't want to be found by her parents here. She didn't know if she could bear spending another round of three days in the Cut-Velvet bedchamber without books.

"Let's go, Dobby," she said reluctantly.

Just as she had walked a few steps towards the Buttery's doors, something rustled behind her.

Dobby shouted, lifted the fork, and ran into the darkness before she could stop him. "You will not harm Miss Darcie!" His voice was like a whistle, mixed with courage, shaking in fear.

More rustling followed the previous one as if stones were falling.

Darcie approached the end again and saw Dobby on the ground, covered in small rubble. "Dobby, are you OK?" she asked, nearing him.

Suddenly, her eyes landed on the fist-sized hole in the wall.

Under the dying light of the fireball in her palm, she could barely make out there was something inside the hole.

Darcie took a deep breath, and let her left hand fall into oblivion.

Her fingers touched the treasure that her mysterious adventure had begotten.

And the contact between her nerves and the unseen, old crumpled papers inside that hole made her heart pound against her tiny chest.

*************

AN: The contents of the scroll that the minister took away with her would be revealed later.

If you didn't understand what happened in the latter half of the chapter, and why, just comment. But I think you must have got a pretty good idea. For more, refer Chapter 261, and wait for the next Identity Period. thank you