"What kind of mother..."

February 1994, 2 months later

Circi slept well into the new year, often drifting off to sleep with her mother's scarf around her neck.

When the rest of Hogwarts returned from their holiday, she was nervous, at first, that the girls in her dorm would find it, question it, maybe even destroy it. Instead, however, they simply greeted her with a smile and even presented gifts of sweets. A box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, a handful of Chocolate Frogs and a tub of homemade fudge. They all admitted that they were gifts they had received from distant family but had all decided to put a pool together for Circi. The gesture was sweet and warmed Circi's heart and put her at ease among them. Sure, the others had known each other longer, but they were stuck with each other for seven years.

At the welcoming feast, they were warned once again about the dementors guarding the grounds and, at one point, Leslie had commented on Circi's fading circles under her eyes. This had spurred Isabell to lean over and reprimand him, warning him not to comment on a girl's looks. This interjection baffled the two first-years, who had not really spoken to Isabell nor bothered to think about her much, but she seemed desperate to get to know them.

Further, up the table, over Isabell's shoulder, Circi spotted Draco chatting animatedly to Carmen Breckinridge where their year groups joined together. Carmen looked statue-esque in front of Draco's wild arm movements, but she smiled none-the-less and let him speak, scooping peas and carrots into her mouth. For a moment, Circi felt a spark of jealousy at the sight- she wanted to talk to Carmen Breckinridge.

Herbology class was slow. The students weren't necessarily thrilled at the prospect of Professor Sprout lecturing them for an hour. But, about halfway through the lesson, the Professor instructed the students out of the classroom and led them into the courtyard between the greenhouses. She instructed the students with long hair to tie their hair back before going into detail about the fire making charm.

Circi clawed her hair into a low ponytail, focusing on what the Professor had to say rather than how she looked. Her wand was poised after repeating the incantation several times, and she waited for her turn on the dummy.

"Your hair would look really pretty in plaits." Turning around, accidentally bumping the student in front of her, Circi came face to face with the Gryffindor student only ever referred to, in class, as Crane.

"Sorry?" Crane smiled, picking up the limp ponytail before dropping it.

"Your hair, it would look good like this," she pointed to her own hair which had been split into two braids, a style she had conveniently decided on earlier that morning. Circi's eyebrows knitted together.

"Oh, well, I'm sure it would but I don't know how to do that?"

"You don't know how?" Crane's mouth hung agape, unsure of how to process the information. "Well, that's not good enough, I'll teach you?"

"What?" Before Circi could receive her answer, Professor Sprout called her name, and she had no choice but to step up to the dummy. Flicking her wrist as she spoke, she called out "Incendio!" and watched as flames shot from her wand and licked at the dummy before disappearing.

The rest of the lesson passed with Leslie sharing dirty looks with Mica while Circi did her best while balancing two different conversations between them and casting the charm when her turn arrived. By the end of the lesson, and the beginning of lunch, she was exhausted. She left Leslie to walk to lunch by himself and accepted Mica's invitation to wait awhile.

When Circi finally found her way to the Slytherin benches, her hair was up in two neat braids and both Leslie and Isabell were watching her through narrowed eyes.

"Look at my hair! Isn't it pretty? Mica did it." Isabell raised an eyebrow and looked to Leslie for information.

"The Gryffindor from herbology." He informed her, nodding to the entrance to the Great Hall, where Mica was bumbling in with a few Gryffindor friends she'd met on the way. The group was loud, their conversation echoing around the already noisy hall.

"You know," Isabell began, having to lean forward to be heard, "you should really be careful with Gryffindors. Blood traitors, the lot of them." Circi collected herself a few sandwiches from the platter in front of them and shook her head. "I'm serious! They're all halfblood, mudbloods or blood traitors. Potter's a prime example, tainting the Weasleys and bringing disgrace to all Purebloods." Circi scoffed, speaking around the food in her mouth.

"You sound like my Father."

"Lucius Malfoy," Isabell's eyes seemed to light up, and she nodded, "he knows what he's talking about."

"Not always." Circi interrupted. She paused to reflect for a moment and pointed at Isabell. "Aren't you a halfblood anyway?"

Isabell straightened up at this, clenching her jaw and looking around at the students around her. Down the table, the head girl, and her sister, Annabelle, nodded at her with a proud smirk which made her grimace.

"Yeah, well, it was a trick of fate. My scheming mother tricked Dad into thinking she was a pureblood- you can imagine his horror when she introduced her muggle parents after she bewitched him into loving her. Honestly, if it wasn't for our sister, my brother and I would've dealt with her by now." Circi and Leslie gaped at Isabell.

Leslie, who had only ever known his muggleborn adoptive parents, was mortified that she could speak about her own mother like that. And Circi, who carried the short letter her mother had sent her after eleven years of being apart, felt tears pricking at her eyes as an intense wave of anger washed over her.

"How dare you!" She stood up from the table, her knees hitting the corner and rocking their section slightly. A goblet of pumpkin juice fell over, soaking the platter of sandwiches. "You should be grateful to have a mother who loves you, who is there for you. How can you be so disrespectful?" Fumbling over her words, cheeks flushed, and tears smearing her vision, Circi ran from the room.

She kept running, crying now for reasons she couldn't quite comprehend. And her confusion made her cry harder.

Desperate to get out of the corridors scattered with students, she ducked into a seemingly empty classroom and crouched down behind a desk, sinking to the floor and heaving out the sobs that had built up. Holding herself up on the desk with her hand and hiding her face in the crook of her elevated elbow, she willed herself to calm down.

Counting her breaths, as Lucius had once taught her, she casts her eyes to the floor. A cat had prowled up to her, and she watched as its shadow morphed into the looming figure of a woman. Half of her was terrified and the other half felt too weak to look up, and when a gentle hand rested on her head her body spasmed in shock. Losing her balance, Circi fall back on her butt and wipes her nose on her sleeve.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Malfoy?" Looking up, she finds her transfiguration professor, Professor McGonagall, looking down at her from her seat on the bench. Of course, she had seen the Professor transition from her animagus form before.

"Sorry Professor," she stuttered out, "I thought this room was empty." Professor McGonagall watched her, not saying anything. Waiting. Soon, however, it became evident that Circi had nothing more to say.

"Why were you crying, Malfoy?" Circi's face scrunched up again, and she shook her head. She didn't know and it killed her. Why didn't she know? As she threatened to cry again, McGonagall nodded. "It's okay," she said as softly as her Scottish accent would allow, her face pulling up in a taut smile, "everyone cries for no reason sometimes." Circi sniffed, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Even you?"

"Even me."

"Really?" The Professor had always seemed so stoic and strong to her in class. "What about Professor Snape?"

This had elicited a chuckled from the Professor who seemed to nod and shake her head at the same time.

"Especially Professor Snape." Her voice had dropped to a scandalous whisper, and it was enough to cheer Circi up. The image of her head of house being in the same snotty and sniffling state as her was most amusing. "Would you like me to fetch your brother?"

Circi deliberated for a moment and, after a moment's hesitation, she figured out why she had been crying and Draco is the only person who could understand her. She nodded, dropping her chin into the gap between her knees and closed her eyes, longing to meet her mother.

A/N

Big Happy Birthday to Minnie McG