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♬ end credits (lizzie suite) by jeff russo
"Exhale." Priscilla, Adeline's handmaiden says, looking at her through the reflection of the mirror in front of them.
"I can't." Adeline says amongst stifled laughs, her hands placed on her stomach for support as the woman tied the silk pink corset tighter and tighter.
Priscilla frustratedly begins to untie the corset she'd spent the past few minutes tying. "I thought we had a fitting for this exact reason last week." She says.
Adeline combed through her curled blonde hair with her fingers, only for Priscilla to swat them away. "Halwich has made two tracle tarts since then. It would be rude of me to let that go to waste." She retorts.
Priscilla glances up at Adeline with a displeased look, that soon fell into a faint smile. "I did good on your hair." She compliments herself.
Her hair was pulled up onto the crown of her head in a simple, loose bun, and her face was framed with tight ringlets. Baby blue ribbons and pink flowers were intertwined with the blonde curls.
"Exhale?" Priscilla says, more hesitant this time.
Adeline let's out a short breath. It wasn't much, but it at least there was airflow. "Better." She says, turning around to grab her dress off her bed.
Priscilla helps her slip it on over her head. It was a soft pink silk gown with a rectangular bodice with short sleeves. The waist sat right under her breasts and the skirt fell straight to the floor. The hem was decorated with ornate butterflies, reminiscent of her Patronus which she first conjured at only fifteen years old.
As Priscilla pinned the back of her dress together, and slipped Adeline's white gloves on her arms, the girl's eyes trailed over to the stack of papers on her desk.
Her ink bottle was completely empty. Every last drop was used on that story that Dugdale Cuffe barely even glanced at. All she wanted was to march right back over there and tell him that The Daily Prophet hadn't had a single good column since she was ten years old and they covered Baruffio's Brain Elixir being snuck into people's fire whiskey. And even then it was bad.
A knock came from the door and slowly tore her eyes away from the paper to see who it was. She tried to remind herself that she should enjoy herself tonight, and worry about that tomorrow. That after all her unnecessarily hard work, she deserved a night of fun.
Priscilla opened the door to reveal Halwich in his small, tattered sock that he claimed was more comfortable than it looked. He peaked inside, unsure if he should come in or not. He looked at Priscilla who gave him a nod of welcome.
Halwich turned to Adeline. "Your father is downstairs waiting in the carriage." He carried her purple cloak in his arms, holding up as much of the fabric as possible as to not let it drag on the floor.
Adeline smiled and nodded, walking over to him and bending down to accept the cloak. "Thank you, Halwich."
"What do you think he's like?" Priscilla asked, slipping Adeline's cloak over her arms.
Halwich looked to Adeline, awaiting the answer himself.
"Who?" She asked.
"Their son." Priscilla says. "The one this ball is so obviously being thrown for."
"How did you hear about that?" Adeline laughed, turning to look at her with a curious grin.
Priscilla gave the girl a disappointed look. "I do go outside, you know? It's all I've been hearing for the past week. These women and their daughters are all going to be quite disappointed when the boy turns out to have the face of a toad."
Adeline laughed as she followed Halwich out the door and down the steps.
Their house had always been so beautiful at night. And a part of her didn't want to leave the comfort of it to a place of such unknown. The walls were painted mint and pink, intricate stories of the Desford family lineage painted down the halls, with tree branches and flower gardens stretched out to each corner.
Fwooper clocks were found in every room, thanks to Mr. Desford, all with their own silencing charm's placed upon them at Adeline's request. And not a single light fixture was the same, each one with their own unique design, also thanks to Mr. Desford.
Halwich opened the front door an Adeline slipped outside to the warm spring breeze. Mr. Desford was too busy petting one of the two Thestral's stood in front of the carriage to notice her appearance.
"Mr. Desford." Priscilla says after clearing her throat, in a stern tone that wasn't abnormal for the woman.
Mr. Desford looked to her, and then to Adeline as his eyes lit up. He clasped his hands together and smiled brightly. "Oh, my Adeline." He said happily as he approached her. "I must remember this moment, so I can have it painted onto a canvas to cherish forever." He said, squeezing his eyes shut to try and remember.
"Thank you, Father." Adeline smiled. "Shall we go? It's a long journey."
Mr. Desford shook his head. "With these two we'll get there in half the time." He spoke confidently as he opened the carriage door.
Adeline laughed as she held onto her father's hand and climbed inside. "Did they tell you that?"
The carriage ride was quiet. It usually was. Mr. Desford always took the opportunity to sketch in his notebooks, glasses on the very end of his nose, and Adeline to read. Today it was a Muggle story called Evelina, though the author was published it anonymously.
"Do you have your dance card?" Mr. Desford says after a moment of silence.
Adeline holds her wrist up, keeping her eyes on her book. The small card tied around her wrist was already filled out, with names of made-up male suitors all suspiciously in Adeline's handwriting.
"You shouldn't lie." Mr. Desford says.
Adeline looks up from her book. "I'm not lying." She says, then after a moment she speaks again to defend herself. "If you had to dance with these men you'd have a fake dance card too." Mr. Desford laughs. "I do have one spot for a dance open." She says, pointing to the only line on the card where a name has yet to be written.
"Is that for this son everyone's talking about?" Mr. Desford raises an eyebrow.
Adeline smiles. "Marjorie."
Mr. Desford laughs again. "You know these dances are a waste of our time if you are not interested in meeting with any of the suitors."
"I have fun either way." She shrugs. "And besides, every girl at this ball will be waiting for a chance to dance with him. I bet he won't even glance in my direction."
"You're too humble, my Adeline."
She relaxes back into her seat, closing her book. "You know the Black's, don't you?" The conversation had a slight shift in tone the moment the name was mentioned.
Mr. Desford nodded slightly, but his smile had faded. "I know the head of the house. Orion Black. I'd spoken to him several times when I used to attend the Ministry of Magic meetings." He paused. "He never mentioned a son."
Adeline knew that if Mr. Desford truly liked this Orion Black, then he would've said so. Slowly she started to regret her evening out.
"You know Eugene Longbottom has a son close to your age. Frank?" Mr. Desford says, changing the subject.
"Unfortunate name." Adeline says, after taking a moment to consider. "Adeline Longbottom. Are you trying to engage me to your friend's son?"
Mr. Desford looked back to his notebook without another word.
Just as soon as the carriage ride started to get unbearably uncomfortable— when the thought of having to ride any further brought Adeline the feeling of a knot in her throat— the flicker of lanterns caught her eye out the carriage window.
She shut her book and scoot herself closer to the door, hands up and pressed against the windowpane.
Amongst the dead trees that were still bare despite thé rapidly approach summer season, past the stone walls topped with black iron gates, stood a mansion so large she wasn't even sure she was looking at the entirety of it.
It's windows were as shy eyes, large to welcome any ray of sun, though in this darkness she couldn't imagine the sun ever reaching it. The rock walls belonged right where it was, as if perchance it had grown up right from that hallowed ground. It was as if it had been called into existence house solely The House of Black.
As they passed through the gates, at the top was a crest welded into the iron. It depicted a human skull, a hand holding a wand, and three black ravens.
Underneath were the words, "Toujours Pur?" Adeline spoke, redirecting her attention from the crest to her father.
Mr. Desford sighed, not looking up from his notebook despite the fact that they had arrived. "Always pure." He translated.
Always pure. Adeline had a sudden uneasy feeling, one that was different from most other butterflies she got before balls. This one wasn't from nerves, things felt off from the moment they arrived on the Black Manor grounds.
a/n
filler chapter already IM SORRY but the build up regulus is gonna be worth it i promise pls forgive
but i hope u enjoyed
- jane xx