Pandora Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter One: The Gifted Power

~ 4th March, 1986 ~

My name is Pandora Malfoy and I am five years old. Actually, I'm closer to six years old now, but my birthday still isn't for another few months. I have blonde hair (my brother, Draco, calls it platinum blonde), and odd eyes. Mother says they're 'unique', but Father just says they make me look stupid. Draco says he would love to have one grey eye and one blue eye, but I think he's just trying to make me feel better about it.

Draco and I are twins, which means we were born at the same time. Well, almost. He was born a few minutes before I was, which Father says makes him the responsible one. Mother had to explain to me what responsible meant when he first said that, but I know what it means now! I also don't really think that Draco is responsible. He often has very silly ideas that would get him into lots of trouble if it was me doing them. Things like trying to trick our house-elf, Dobby, into somehow freeing himself from our service. But even when he does those silly things, Father refuses to say that he's anything less than perfect. I wish he said the same about me.

Because of this, Draco can sometimes be very, very annoying. It's safe to say that we don't really get along some of the time because of his ideas. Even though we fight sometimes, he always tries to protect me. But he couldn't protect me from Father's yelling today.

It wasn't my fault that it had happened. It wasn't my fault that my hair had somehow gone blue, and that no spell could get it back to its normal colour. It wasn't, I swear! Not that that mattered to Father. All he cared about was that I no longer looked like a Malfoy, and that he couldn't change me back to normal.

"—not acceptable, do you understand me?"

I knew by now that this was my cue to nod meekly, and quietly agree and apologise. So that's exactly what I did.

"Yes, Father. Sorry, Father."

He left the room without another word, leaving me to change my hair back to normal on my own. I wasn't fully sure how I would do this, not being able to use magic to do so, and not even knowing how it had gone that colour in the first place.

"Pandora," my mother called softly from the living room.

Taking note of the fact that she had, as usual, waited until Father had left before trying to help me with whatever had made him angry, I quickly went to her.

"What is it, Mother?" I asked, climbing onto the sofa next to her, smiling happily at her familiar features.

She winced at my vibrant hair, and said, "I had hoped you wouldn't inherit that gene..."

"What's inherit?" I asked curiously.

"It means you got it from someone else, usually another member of the family," Mother said, sounding somewhat distracted.

"Oh."

I stored this new knowledge away in my mind, waiting for Mother to explain what she was talking about. When I saw that she had a strange look on her face, like she was deep in thought, I gave her a slight nudge, which made her flinch.

"Mother? What did you hope I didn't in— inherit?" I asked.

Mother sighed, visibly thinking about how to answer my question.

"There is a power that is gifted to a select few members of a certain family — the Black family. You remember I told you about them before?"

I nodded, recalling the time Mother had told me all about the family she was born into.

"The power is a certain mutation in the magical gene. Genes are part of what makes all people what they are; it gives them their looks, their personality, and — in the case of witches and wizards — their magical abilities."

She gave me a look that was clearly asking whether I understood that, and I nodded again.

"A mutated magical gene can cause a child to develop magical powers that not all other witches and wizards possess," she finished.

"Do I have one of these?"

This time it was Mother who nodded as a reply.

"Is that bad?" I asked worriedly.

"No," Mother said softly, "but if you don't learn to control it, it could get you into trouble, like it did with Lucius just now." She glanced at my blue hair and gave another quiet sigh.

"I can control it?"

"With practice," was her reply. "Try focusing on the colour your hair usually is, and imagine using a paintbrush to paint your hair that colour."

I did that, and felt a slight tingling sensation on the top of my head. I pulled a bit of my hair over my shoulder, a bright smile appearing on my face as I saw that it was back to its normal colour.

"I did it!"

"Well done," Mother said, returning my smile.

I thought for a moment, then asked, "Can I do that with any colour?"

Mother winced, as though she had been hoping I wouldn't have that thought, and hesitantly said, "Theoretically, yes... but you shouldn't."

"Why?"

"Sweetheart, you saw how Lucius reacted to it," she said gently. "He would be even more angry if you were changing it on purpose."

"Can I do it when he's not there?"

Mother seemed to consider this for a good few minutes, before carefully saying, "As long as you're somewhere different to him, and there's nobody nearby who might tell him about it, I suppose there's no harm in it."

I smiled again, and hugged her happily.

"Thank you!"

She smiled as well and hugged me back, but I could tell that something was worrying her.

"Mother? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," she said airily. "I just don't want you getting into any more trouble with your father."

I frowned a bit as I thought.

"Why can't you leave him?" I asked eventually.

"Because I love him," she said, "and he loves all of us."

"But — but he hurts you," I said, frowning again. "He wouldn't hurt you if he loved you, would he?"

"He just has trouble controlling himself when he gets angry." She smiled at me and stroked my hair, before quietly saying, "We just need to help him control his anger. We can do that, can't we?"

I looked up at her, and I could clearly see the hope in her eyes as she looked back at me.

"Of course we can," I said, not wanting to disappoint her.

She kissed the top of my head, a thankful smile on her face as she looked at me.

"Good girl. Now, I have things I need to be doing, so I'm afraid I can't entertain you anymore." She stood up, and I quickly did the same. "Why don't you go and find Draco?"

"Ok! Bye Mother!" I gave her one last hug, then turned and skipped away, my father's latest yelling session forgotten.

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Word count: 1172