A/N: There's some blood in this, but Arabella is just as freaked about it as you are, Malfoy thinks it's funny, and Nikolai is ignoring it because he's trying to be tough.
Light and dark swirled together as a violent maelstrom, tearing the heavens apart before unfurling to reveal a single turret rising high into the bleak winter sky, looming over the dark, sprawling shadows of Travers Hall. The snow fell gently, blanketing the dull grey stone with white as three small figures approached its imposing entrance.
Arabella offered John a small, reassuring smile as the massive oak doors before them swung inwards of their own accord, revealing a dimly lit grand foyer decorated with several enchanted tapestries and oil paintings, the subjects of which instantly began calling out their greetings with varying degrees of delight.
"The wee ones have returned! Copernicus, dear, look at how tall they've grown! And who might this new lad be?"
"Full house once again, innit? Better go back t'sleep, I should. Ruddy devils, they are, the whole lot of 'em."
"There was actually peace and quiet here -- they've come to ruin it! Oh, if only I weren't trapped in this bloody fabric..."
Nikolai waved his hand at the door, sealing off the December weather. Turning to his sister's boyfriend, he flashed a smile that looked more like a grimace than anything else. "I hope you enjoy your stay here --" his eyes glinted darkly "-- Mudblood."
Instantly, the portraits erupted into a chorus of furious protest, demanding that the Muggle-born be thrown out into the cold, hung upside down from the battlements, and even killed. Nikolai collapsed in a fit of laughter.
Arabella glared murderously at her brother, lacing her fingers with John's trembling hand and guiding him away from the commotion. "It's just like him to do this," she growled. "I really do hate him sometimes."
"Are they always like this?" John swallowed nervously, trying to act bravely as he nodded his head in the direction of the room they had just left.
"We've never had a Muggle-born in the house before," Arabella explained quietly. "My ancestors were never exactly the, er, welcoming type, you see."
She craned her neck to scan the hallway they had almost reached. "Watch out, there's a painting up ahead. I don't know if anyone will try to... keep an eye on you."
Luckily, the sixteenth-century wizard who usually inhabited the canvas was fast asleep and didn't even stir as Arabella and John passed him, his soft snores drifting down the dark corridor.
"Is your entire house this creepy, or only this bit?" he asked, chewing his lip nervously.
She laughed; the sound reverberated in the narrow corridor as they approached a landing that gave way to a staircase that spiralled upwards.
"What? I'm just being honest," he defended himself, his voice cracking.
"Mhmm," Arabella hummed, shoving him lightly as they ascended the steps. "I'm certain you are."
John sighed, heaving his trunk over the last step. "Are we there yet?"
"Nearly," came the breathless reply. Her luggage landed besides his with a heavy thud.
She nodded towards a broad hallway with marble floors, panelled walls adorned with oil portraits that would occasionally adjust their hair, and towering columns carved to look like tree trunks that disappeared in the direction of the ceiling above.
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Loyal | Tom Riddle
FanfictionArabella Travers and Tom Riddle have never been remotely civil with one another, even though her twin brother Nikolai is one of his so-called friends. As their fifth year at Hogwarts unfolds, so does the drama, the mystery, and the descent into Dar...
