[Chapter Three: Social Skills. Edited.]

I was not surprised when I woke up in the hospital room. The sun was no longer peering through the window and dancing on my skin. I tried to sit up, but it was futile. I felt weak and seemed to be glued to my bed.

"Hello, again, Willow," The old man was sitting beside me. He was slightly further back this time, but he was still too close. He could have been a mile a way and still been too close. I wanted to vomit. Or cry. Maybe scream. I didn't know. I tried to move again but was strapped down by invisible means. It wouldn't stop me from fighting against them. I'd struggle until the magical binds were gone.

"A simple binding spell. We don't want you running away again," My breathing increased, even though his words were spoken with an unprecedented calmness with which I bore no familiarity. I was scared at what he might do to me. If these people could scare my parents, they must be horrible.

"Please."

It was the only word I could muster. It wasn't a demand, rather a plea. Show mercy on me. If my father had known how pathetic I'd just been, I'd be punished.

"We are not going to hurt you, Willow. We are here to protect you. To help you." He studied my face before continuing. "This is Hogwarts. I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster."

"Hogwarts?" My voice was no louder than a breath. He nodded, his eyebrows raised. "B-but I'm – I'm a – a squib, I – I'm n-not — I –––-"

"You are very much a witch, Willow," Professor Dumbledore observed me with such concern that I looked away. "Who told you otherwise?"

I didn't answer. I felt horrible for not answering, but I couldn't betray my parents, not even for the man Dobby claimed was kind. They must have known something Dobby didn't.

"You are now eleven, Willow, you start school this year." I cringed at the constant use of my name. It didn't fit. I was not Willow. I was the pitiful squib. I had questions, but I stopped myself. I didn't want to irritate him. I didn't want to say the wrong thing. He left a long enough pause for me to speak, but I didn't. "Willow, when we found you – and thank goodness we did when we did – you were badly beaten and ill. Why were you alone on the outskirts of Hogsmeade? Your parents said they didn't know where you'd gotten to – how did you get nearly a hundred miles away?"

I didn't answer again. I knew the answer to the question, but that would get my parents in trouble. This man didn't know that what they did to me, they did out of love. He wouldn't understand. And I couldn't lie to him. I felt utterly ill.

"Willow," Professor Dumbledore reached forward and took my small hand in both of his. I was so startled that I met his eye. I would have jumped away from him, but I was still bound to the bed. "He can't get you in here. You're safe."

He knew. Professor Dumbledore knew. I couldn't fathom a single sentence in my parent's defence and the nauseous feeling grew.

"It is almost time for sorting, Willow. I will take you down to the train station so you can blend in with everyone else." The binds on me were released and I wasted no time in getting out of bed and walking the two paces toward the window so I could distance myself from Professor Dumbledore. He raised his wand at me and I let out a shriek, diving out of the way and hitting my head on a cabinet in my haste to escape him.

"I'm sorry!" Professor Dumbledore cried, rushing around the bed to help me off the floor. "I didn't mean to startle you, Willow, I just wanted to change your clothes." He reached out a hand to help me up, but I'd been given a false one of them too many times – I clambered to my feet, with no assistance. "I'm going to try again. You don't have to be afraid." I still flinched when he raised the wand, but I didn't try to escape. "There you are."

I looked down and discovered I was now wearing black robes. I had never seen magic used for anything but punishment.

"Take my arm. Grip it tight, Willow," Professor Dumbledore ordered and I obliged. I was not fool enough to ignore a direct instruction. We disapparated - the room dissolved and we reappeared on a cold, poorly-lit train platform. My head whirled as my feet hit the ground, but Professor Dumbledore steadied me. "Most people feel ill when they start apparating," He added, touching my hair with his free hand, before looking up and smiling. "Ah, here comes Hagrid, I'll leave you with him."

I followed his gaze. Coming toward us, along the platform, was a large lantern being held by an even larger man. I was about an eighth of his size.

"He is as gentle as he is big," Professor Dumbledore informed me. "Hello, Hagrid. You have the pleasure of looking after Willow. She's a first year, this year."

"Will do, Professor Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid replied in a surprisingly sweet voice.

"Good luck, Willow," Professor Dumbledore winked at me. "I'll see you back at the school." He added as a 'Please don't run away' note. He disapparated.

I wondered if Hagrid could stop me from leaving. I probably would have, except it was dark and late and I was tired and had no idea how to get home.

"Yer excited ter be goin' ter Hogwarts, eh, Willow." Hagrid said to me. I didn't know if it were a question or not, but I didn't answer all the same. "Yer goin' ter love it here, I promise. No' a finer school in all the world." I didn't respond, so Hagrid decided to shout, "Firs' years! Firs' years o'er 'ere!" I jumped at the noise and Hagrid patted my shoulder with an enormous hand. I was too startled to flinch. "Er, sorry, 'bout tha'. I'm tryin' it out." He looked a little miserable so I forced myself to speak.

"I-it sounds great." My hands were shaking quite violently. Whether it was from Hagrid's shouting, or me talking, I wasn't entirely sure. I grabbed the front of my robes to stop them, but it just made my robes shake.

The train pulled in and the platform was suddenly swarming with students and noise. It was far too overwhelming for my senses. I moved to Hagrid's other side to try and shield myself from people while he called again, "Firs' years. Firs' years o'er 'ere!"

Bit by bit, the older students disappeared down a lane, and I was surrounded by a bunch of people who were around my age, I guessed. All of them looked as uncomfortable as I felt.

Hagrid led us down a path and to a lake. It was covered in boats and across the river was ... beautiful. If I thought the view outside the window earlier was beautiful, I was wrong. Well, not wrong, but this was, like, more beautiful...

I'm super articulate.

"Five to a boat." said Hagrid. I think he had said more, but I was too busy watching the castle.

"Hello, would you join us on our boat?" asked a girl with bushy hair. She had a bright smile on her face and seemed very polite. "My name is Hermione Granger." She smiled leading me to the boat. I hadn't even said yes, although I wasn't very good at saying no. "This is Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, and Ronald Weasley." She pointed to three boys in turn. A shorter-than-what-I-guessed-was-average boy with brown skin and black messy hair; a round-faced pale boy with brown hair and a sweet smile; a taller-than-what-I-guessed-was-average boy with red hair and freckles. "What's your name?"

It was such a startling question that I blanked. Hermione helped me into the boat none-the-less and repeated the question, albeit a little differently. It was in a non-accusatory way – "Sorry, what did you say your name was, again?" – Though I was certain she knew I hadn't answered.

"Wi-Willow Malfoy," I stammered out, with all the determination I could muster. The Ron boy, I noticed, pulled a face at my name. My own name felt strange on my tongue, though 'Willow' wasn't a terrible name. I couldn't understand why Ron thought it was that bad.

"Everyone in?" Shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"

The boats floated along the water and everyone remained silent staring at the beauty in front of us.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as we approached a cliff. We went underneath a wall of ivy and seemed to be underneath the castle. We reached a small underground dock and climbed out onto large rocks and pebbles.

"Oi, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid asked Neville as he checked the boats.

"Trevor!" Cried Neville as he picked him up.

We walked up onto moist grass before making our way up stone stairs. Hagrid raised his huge fist and knocked three times on the big oak door.

Part of me decided speaking would be great practice, so I looked at the Ron boy. "I sort of get the feeling that in seven years this place will be blown to smithereens." He stared at me and shuffled away.

Okay, that was bad. Let's not try that again.