Leda

“Swanky.”

“Excuse me?”

Leda had anticipated that she would reach nineteen before she reached the top of that spiral staircase. But strangely enough, it seemed as if she had taken only a dozen steps before coming to the end. Aquila had escorted her down echoing, black marbled hallways until leading her into what she surmised was Master Malfoy’s office.

“Nice digs,” she continued with an approving nod. Leda hadn’t yet decided what to think or feel about this bizarre turn of events--the surreal interview, the carriage without horses, the strange clothing, and her new employer whose eyes she couldn\'t recall without her breath catching in her throat. It was all too much to take in. She realized she needed to force herself to focus on something small and manageable, something she could wrap her mind around. So she decided she would annoy Aquila, stuffy little man that he was. And in Leda’s experience with the English, the best way to annoy one was by acting very. . .American.

“Digs?” Aquila said, clearly aghast by her casual behavior in the presence of his Master’s realm.

“Yeah, nice place here.” Leda spun around in the middle of the room. Her act was difficult to maintain. After all, the office itself was a stunning monstrosity-a massive ebony desk in the center, sumptuous couches, looming wrought iron lancet windows, illuminated wholly by dozens of dripping candles, and everywhere she looked were ancient books, whirling globes, and scrolls and scrolls of parchment.

“Nice?”

“Oh yeah, very nice. Your boss has this whole Count of Monte Christo thing going, doesn’t he? But I do hate it when I see men with prettier hair than me. Hey,” she said abruptly, throwing herself rudely onto one of the plush couches, “how do you get all the candles to float? Wires? Nice effect. Although I think your feng shui is out of balance.”

“Effect? Miss, I will have you know that you are in the manor of Lucius Malfoy, one of the most powerful wizards- ”

“Wizard? Really?” Leda interrupted, sitting up on the couch and crossing her legs in front of her, deliberately putting her feet on the furniture. “A real wizard--like Merlin or Aleister Crowley? Does he do magic tricks? You know, like at kid’s parties.”

Leda barely had a chance to gasp before Aquila pulled a wand from his gray robes and sent her flying to the wall. She hit hard and felt the air leave her lungs with a rush. She kept waiting to fall to the ground but the fall never came. Pinned against the rough stonework, she looked down at the floor several feet beneath her and then at Aquila who suddenly seemed a bit more imposing than he had before.

“I don’t know where you are from, Leda,” he spat her name like a curse, “but here--we all do magic tricks.”

Leda watched Aquila turn away as she dropped to the floor. She greedily sucked in air and did not speak.

“Wait here, please. The master should return soon.”

Leda nodded at his back as he made his way to the door. His wand had disappeared back into his robes but Leda had learned her lesson. If this was a dream, and she was beginning to get the impression it wasn’t, there was a very good chance it was a nightmare.

“And do not,” he ordered opening the door without a backward glance, “touch anything.”

With that he was gone and Leda was alone again with her racing heart and her aching lungs. She came slowly to her feet and walked unsteadily back to the couch.

She wanted to cry but didn’t. She wanted to run away but didn’t. After a few minutes, and after she had calmed down, she really wanted to be sick. But just as she was scanning the room for someplace to discreetly lose her breakfast, a cat, sleek and silver jumped next to her on the couch. She gasped at his sudden appearance and only watched him with fascinated eyes as the cat turned around once before settling beside her. With shaking hands, Leda reached out to pet him but drew back as the cat hissed viciously at her. This was too much. Leda locked her eyes on the cat and hissed back. The cat blinked back at her a moment and seemed to nod in approval. He made one more meaningless rotation before crawling into Leda’s lap.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Leda sighed as she began stroking the cat’s elegant fur smiling at the incredible volume of his purring.

I have read way too many books, she told herself. Tomorrow, I’m back on television.

“Already making friends, are we?” The cat leapt from Leda’s lap at the sound of Malfoy’s voice. The cat was apparently as surprised as she was.

“He touched me first,” Leda blurted out, recalling Aquila’s stern warning to her. She pointed at the cat now sitting at guilty attention next to her on the couch.

How on earth did Malfoy manage to come in without her hearing him?

“You should be grateful you still have your hands. . .Leda, was it?” Malfoy strode toward her and Leda was again struck by the blend of his almost feminine beauty with his masculine power. And his voice . . .he spoke slowly, deliberately, pouring over every word. “Sisyphus tends to be . . .inhospitable at times. Especially with strangers.”

“Sisyphus?” Leda turned to the cat and scratched gently under his chin. “Under a curse is he?”

She nearly gasped out loud when she felt Malfoy’s fingers under her own chin. She raised her eyes to his and found him studying her face. His gaze was intense and Leda knew she was blushing the furious way only a redhead can blush.

“Aren’t we all,” Malfoy replied before releasing her from his eyes. He sat in a large luxurious armchair across from her and laid his cane over the arms of the chair. “I had a talk with Mr. Vallian and I believe you may have some questions for me.”

“Yes,” she answered in a rush, pulling Sisyphus back onto her lap. Vallian had told her not to ask questions but Malfoy did open the door . . . “First of all, who are you? And where am I? And what the hell is going on? That dude, Aquila, threw me against the wall without laying a hand on me. Why are there objects in this house that don’t seem to know about gravity? And what kind of job interview includes palm reading? And,” she continued with vigor, “where were the horses?”

“Horses?” he asked calmly, raising his eyebrow slightly.

“On the carriage? Horses? You know the animals that usually pull carriages?”

“Yes, well there is a simple answer to all of those questions. I am Lucius Malfoy, as you know. And I am a --”

“Wizard. Yeah, got that part. There’s just one problem here.”

“Yes? And what would that be?”

Leda bundled Sisyphus into her arms and stood up.

“There are no such thing as wizards,” she pronounced to the still calm figure of Malfoy.

“Is that so?” he asked coming to his feet.

There was a gust of cool wind followed by an unexpected blackness and a moment later, Leda found herself next to Malfoy and still holding Sisyphus but now standing in the entryway to the manor again.

“How did you do that?” she breathed, thoroughly awestruck.

She saw the hint of a superior smile play at the corner of his mouth. “Magic,” he answered simply.

Leda felt Sisyphus squirm a little in her arms and she let him drop to the floor.

“Cool,” she said, duly impressed.

Okay, she thought, not a dream.

Leda stared silently at her surroundings. And then she let her eyes wander back to Malfoy. For some reason she could not explain, she was strangely comfortable with the idea that everything she ever thought about the world she lived in was completely untrue. And this man beside her--suddenly he seemed more real to her than the supposed “real world” she had lived her whole life in. And the only thing that bothered her now was how little all of this bothered her.

She raised her head and met Malfoy’s eyes, now watching her in return.

“Okay, so you’re a wizard. So why does a wizard need a personal assistant?”

Leda went cold as her question was answered only by a charged and pregnant silence before Malfoy allowed a different kind of smile to cross his lips. Leda felt the gust of wind again and she found herself and Malfoy back in his private office.

“No tour?” she asked when she noticed where they were again.

“Not tonight,” Malfoy answered as he strode to a towering wall of books and chose an ancient, dusty tome.

Leda glanced down at her watch and was stunned to find it was nearly midnight. Hours had disappeared without her even realizing it. It seemed like it was only minutes ago that she had arrived at Malfoy Manor. And yet, it seemed as if she had been here all her life.

She saw Malfoy lay the book across his desk and gasped with amazement as the pages began blowing open of their own accord. Malfoy casually removed his gloves and Leda studied his hands as they trailed over the pages. He had perfect artist’s hands, she decided. Large and sculpted with that same combination of delicacy and power she observed in his whole persona.

If that’s how beautiful he is just under his gloves. . .Stop it, Leda. He’s your boss, she warned herself. You can\'t have a crush on your boss already. You\'ve been here ten minutes.

Or was it ten days? She couldn\'t seem to pin down time anymore.

Malfoy\'s dark blue eyes flashed in her direction again and Leda felt her breath catch once again in her throat.

She could have a crush on her boss and she did have a crush on her boss. This, she decided, could complicate things a bit.

Malfoy seemed to find what he needed in his book. But whatever he read apparently did not please him as Leda saw a frown spread across his face as a deep scowl etched itself on his brow. The book shut itself with a snap and Malfoy came to face Leda, suddenly affable again.

“Shall we discuss your duties?” he asked briskly as he sat again in the chair and gestured for her to sit again on the couch.

“Yes, please,” she replied, grateful to have her bearings again. “I guess I’m supposed to do --”

“Whatever I tell you to do.”

“Excuse me?” Leda was astounded. “I’m here for a job, not to be your personal slave, Sir,” she said with all the audacity she could muster even as she shivered at the implications of the word \"slave.\"

“Leda,” he replied coolly, ignoring her shocked tone, “you are my personal slave.”

“What?”

“Of your own free will and without compulsion,” he recited as if reading from an invisible contract, “you agreed to accept the position of servant at Malfoy Manor. This position is for whatever length of time I so determine and you are to do whatever I tell you to do. Do you understand?” All affability was now gone. His eyes were hard and cold and there was steel in his voice.

“No, I don’t. I thought this was just a job. And if you hadn’t heard, slavery is illegal.”

“Yes, and wizards don’t exist either. You aren’t in the Muggle world anymore, Leda.”

So that’s what a Muggle is, Leda realized as she felt her stomach drop to the floor. The world she had always thought was the only world that existed, the world of telephones and television and traffic and dead-eyed housewives in dull ranch house suburbs, that was the Muggle world. It was the world without magic. But clearly the world of magic had downsides of its own. She knew from his voice that he was telling her the truth. And the words she had ignored when she entered Vallian’s office came rushing back into her mind: “Machie A. Vallian--Traders.” Slave trader. And she had accepted this position of her own free will even if she had done so in ignorance. She turned terrified eyes back to Malfoy. No friends, no family, she remembered thinking on the train. No one would miss her if she was gone. No one.

“I wouldn’t worry, Leda. I’m quite certain you will enjoy your time here. Shall we?” Malfoy stood up and waited for her to join him.

“One question,” she said softly as she came to her feet. “What are you going to tell me to do?”

That one question contained eighteen years worth of suppressed fears and desires. She didn’t know what she wanted him to say. But she needed to ask.

Malfoy only captured her eyes again and let the silence stand between them.

“Come with me,” he finally said as he strode toward a large, wooden plank door on the far side of his immense office.

“I thought you weren’t giving me a tour tonight.” Malfoy’s long legs carried him quickly across the floor and Leda had to scramble to catch up with him.

“We aren’t. It is after midnight.”

“Then where are we going?”

Malfoy paused right before opening the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Leda as she finally reached him.

“It’s after midnight,” he repeated. “Bed.”

The door opened onto the most astonishing bedroom Leda had even seen or imagined. It wasn’t cavernous like the office or entry hall. Indeed, it was startlingly intimate. And as beautiful as the man who slept here. But calling it a bedroom was a travesty of language, Leda decided. It was a bedchamber, a magnificent bedchamber. The bed itself was a work of art. It was a glorious, gothic masterpiece of wrought iron and black silk. The whole room was illuminated by nothing but more candles, glowing out of black, twisting candelabrums.

When she finally could speak again, Leda turned to Malfoy and squeaked out a breathless, “And where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Here.”

“With you?” Leda wasn’t sure if she was horrified or excited by that prospect. She allowed herself to momentarily conjure the image of Malfoy’s white-blond hair fanned across the black bedding.

But Malfoy only smiled.

“Not yet,” he answered cryptically. Using his cane, he pointed to the foot of his immense bed. Leda noticed that another much smaller bed sat at the end of the bed next to the wrought iron footboard. It was luxurious in a lesser way, draped as it was in black silky bedding of its own.

“I’m going to sleep at your feet?” she asked as her heart began beating wildly in her breast.

“Of course. I’m certain you will find it most comfortable. And tomorrow,” he began as he leaned his cane against the bed and unclasped his cape, letting it fall off his shoulders. Leda jumped when the cape disappeared suddenly before it touched the ground, “we will discuss these arrangements and your duties in greater detail.”

“And now?” she asked with trepidation. Was he going to do anything to her? She almost hoped he would.

“Sleep.”

He spoke the word quietly and Leda couldn’t help but summon yet again the image of Malfoy in his bed. His hands were so alluring, she found herself wondering what he looked like under the rest of his clothes.

Five minutes later, Leda knew.