1995;
The following day seemed to possess a certain tranquility, unlike its predecessors. Viola couldn't help but attribute it to the preceding day's tumultuous events.
In a seemingly ritualistic manner, Druella and Cygnus found themselves seated in the grand dining room, partaking in their late lunch amidst an eerie silence. Truth be told, their plates were scarcely adorned, for Cygnus had already indulged in his customary chalices of wine, while Druella contented herself with a mere half cup of her white tea and a solitary slice of a meticulously sliced pear. Viola couldn't help but notice that this was a daily occurrence for her.
However, the silence that enveloped the atmosphere was far from the serene tranquility Viola sought. It was an unsettling stillness, one that sent shivers down her spine. Feeling the need for respite, she excused herself, yearning for a momentary escape - a leisurely stroll through the depths of the garden.
The garden, in all its somber glory, lacked the warm embrace of welcome. Instead, it seemed to be a sanctuary of withered blooms, littered with discarded twigs, while crows perched upon the branches, their presence adding to the sinister ambiance. It bore a resemblance to the Rosier manor, albeit without the touch of romantic elegance that the Rosier manor possessed, which was a manor with an art deco like aura, its crimson roses in full bloom, adorned with moving primordial paintings and statues.
Admist the desolation, one thing seized Viola's attention— the fountain that presided over the garden's heart. It stood as a forgotten relic, its once pristine form now cloaked in a layer of dust and decay. Devoid of water, its barren basin whispered of lost serenity. The statue of a man, perched atop the fountain, bore the scars of time. It's visage, though marred by a broken nose, still retained an air of dignified grace. The chiseled features, weathered and worn.
The sight before her mirrored the very essence of her imagination, akin to the vivid portrayals she had encountered within the pages of the ancient tomes that read of Greek gods and goddesses.
So, with a handful of her favorite dried figs that she sneaked from the kitchens, she sat down on the flat surface of the fountain, taking a deep breath as she did so.
The stillness that wrapped around her was abruptly shattered by the appearance of Leepy. The little elf cautiously emerged from the withered bushes, her pointy ears peeking out.
"What is it, Leepy?" inquired Viola, her teeth sinking into the dry fig. The saccharine center, reminiscent of caramel, enveloped her palate, its density lingering as she savored the taste.
Leepy emerged hurriedly from the thicket, positioning herself directly before Viola with a subtle inclination of her head.
"Master Cygnus called for Leepy, to retrieve Viola back to the dining room, immediately" Leepy squeaked, the words sounding as if they be etched in her mind.
Viola eyes did roll in disdain as his name escaped her lips. He embodied not only cruelty, but a lethargic nature, his devotion lying solely in the depths of his wine-filled cups.
"And, why might that be?" inquired Viola.
Leepy, with a slight shrug, responded, "Leepy is not sure, for Leepy merely follows commands given."
Viola let out a sigh, feeling unsettled by the uncertainty. It bothered her that she couldn't anticipate what to expect. In the Rosier manor, Filsy, the house elf, always seemed to provide the answers Viola desired. However, Leepy, on the other hand, did not possess the same inclination.
"But, you see, Leepy actually does have some knowledge..." Leepy hesitated, but mustered up the courage to continue. "Mrs. Rosier and Mr. Nott are awaiting your presence in the dining room, Ms. Viola. They are expecting you."
Viola grew a tad puzzled. Her grandmerè? And Theo? Or perchance his father? She wasn't quite certain. But she wasn't fond of the tangled situation that had arisen.
"I'll be there shortly," Viola replied, standing up and smoothing out her dress as she did.
Leepy just nodded and headed back inside, leaving Viola not only confused but also slightly concerned.
But that didn't stop her from making her way back into the dining hall, her heels clicking on the floor.
In an instant, all their gazes turned towards her. Viola could discern the presence of Cygnus, Druella, Victoriè, Alton, and Theo, all seated at the grand dining table.
Viola expected to see either one of the Nott's at the table, but with both of their presence there it only heightened her concern.
"Viola," Victoriè murmured, her voice pierced through the air, capturing the attention of her granddaughter. "Do take a seat,"
Viola, with her mind swirling with confusion, followed Victoriè's command and took a seat. The weight of Theo's presence loomed before her, a magnetic force she couldn't bring herself to confront directly.
To Theo, well, he thought the same. But when he caught sight of her as she gracefully entered the room, it was as if time stood still. Words failed to capture the depth of his admiration, for he was utterly captivated by her presence. Though he had always recognized her beauty, in that moment, it transcended all expectations. She had matured, adding an intoxicating allure to her already bewitching self. It took every ounce of his willpower to avert his gaze, but he managed to do so, albeit with great effort.
Victoriè cleared her throat, with a hint of authority. "Alton," she addressed him, her eyes meeting his as she nodded her head.
Alton rose from his seat, his hand clasping the delicate stem of his champagne glass. With a twinkle in his eye. "I propose a toast,"
Victoriè cast a meaningful glance towards Viola, silently urging her to partake in the toast. With a slight annoyance, Viola reluctantly reached for a cup of her own.
And around the table, everyone followed suit, including Theo, though his hesitation was evident.
"For the betrothal of my son," Alton exclaimed, causing Theo's eyes to widen in surprise. "Let us raise our glasses to celebrate the union of Theodore Nott and Viola Black, the only granddaughter of Victoriè Rosier."
As those words spilled from his lips, Viola felt as though a ton of bricks had collided with her heart. Her gaze immediately locked with Theo's, and their eyes met in a moment of shared surprise and realization.
Viola's glass slowly descended to the table, untouched, as the others raised their glasses to their lips and drank the champagne. However, Theo remained visibly shaken, mirroring Viola's own state.
"Congratulations to you both," Druella remarked with a wicked smile adorning her lips.
They sat there in silence, their words swallowed by the weight of her words. The toast they heard, swirling in the depths of their minds, refusing to be deciphered. The air around them grew heavy, charged with an unspoken tension. The gravity of the moment hung in the air, casting a shadow over their thoughts.
Viola rose from her seat, her eyes brimming with unease. "Excuse me," she uttered softly.
Not bothering to wait for a response, she, with a sense of urgency, swiftly navigated her way out of the room.
Theo's gaze fixated upon her, his eyes locking onto her figure as she departed. Without a word of explanation, he mirrored her exit, maneuvering through the room with a determined haste. Despite the hindrance of his impeccably tailored black suit, he moved with a purpose, matching her pace step for step.
Victoriè, seething with an internal fury ignited by Viola's audacity, concealed her true emotions behind a facade of nonchalance.
With a calm demeanor, she mustered a seemingly effortless smile and spoke with a hint of indifference. "I have no doubt that she will acclimate to this by morning,"
Alton's response was a mere nod, his ears aflame with a smoldering anger provoked by his son's reprehensible conduct. It was evident that a private moment between them was imperative once this ordeal reached its conclusion.
As Viola ventured into the garden, the once gentle twilight had surrendered to an inky darkness, enveloping the surroundings with an discomforting embrace. The biting wind, now infused with a bone-chilling coldness, swayed through the air, sending shivers coursing through Viola's exposed skin. Her choice of attire, a short dress ill-suited for the elements, only intensified her discomfort, causing goosebumps to rise like specters upon her flesh.
"Will you please slow down for a minute," Theo's voice resonated through the air, accompanied his descent down the stone steps.
Finally, he stood before her, a mere breath away from the ornate fountain. The urgency in his plea was palpable, a fervent desire for her to pause amidst the relentless current of existence.
Viola's gaze shifted towards him, her tresses whirled delicately with the whims of the wind as she turned. "You're inquiring of me the near-impossible, in this very moment,"
Theo found himself entangled in a battle between his thoughts and his spoken words, a struggle he knew he should suppress. Yet, he couldn't resist. The moon, in its glow, caressed the contours of her visage with precision. Above, the stars performed a celestial ballet, mirroring the rays that emanated from her short white silk gown, clinging to her form. Her dark hair, cascading in gentle waves, halted at the midpoint of her back. It was a sight so captivating, so bewitching, that Theo's mind almost surrendered to the hypnotism of the moment.
Theo's reverie was abruptly cracked by the sound of her voice, yanking him back to reality. "Did you know of this?" she inquired.
"What?" Theo exclaimed, his brows furrowing in a mix of confusion and frustration. "No! If I had known, do you honestly think I would keep it hidden from you?"
"Well, I wouldn't put it past you," Viola retorted, shaking her head and crossing her arms.
Theo scoffed at her tone, his voice laced with a hint of disbelief. "Is that so?" he asked rhetorically, his words dripping with a tinge of sarcasm. "Well, let me assure you, Viola, I have no desire to be entangled in any of this."
"Neither do I, Theodore," Viola replied, her voice sharp as she met his gaze. The two of them fell into a brief silence.
They stood there, locked in a gaze, their faces veiled in an incomprehensible shroud. A palpable tension hung in the air, as if the weight of an unknown destiny had descended upon them. Neither of them could fathom the depths of what had just transpired, for it was a clandestine acquisition that defied all expectations.
"We don't need to do anything right now," Viola declared, her voice carrying an air of determination. "I'll be aligning myself with whomever I desire, and you shall do the same. There is no need for us to engage in conversation until our time at Hogwarts draws to a close. Once we have fulfilled our obligations, we shall carry out our duties while still indulging in our own desires."
Her words carried the weight of dominance as she advanced towards him, her steps deliberate and purposeful. And now, in this moment, they found themselves standing mere inches apart.
"Just do me a favor," Viola whispered, her eyes piercing into Theo's soul. "Master the art of putting on a flawless performance, won't you?"
With those words lingering in the air, she turned and departed, leaving him to wrestle with his swirling thoughts. Did her nonchalant demeanor truly imply indifference? Was she subtly urging him to seek solace in another's arms once they were wedded? It was as if she had revealed her disdain for the mere notion, willing to lead a life of pretense rather than succumb to such a fate.
Viola chose not to return to the dining room; she had absorbed all she could bear. Instead, she retreated to the sanctuary of her room, its door closing with a hushed finality. Yet, the door swiftly swung open once more.
As Viola pivoted, her gaze met Victoriè's formidable figure. The door, now sealed with a resolute click, encapsulated the weight of their confrontation. Victoriè's countenance, etched with scorn, mirrored the intensity of her emotions, leaving no room for doubt or mercy.
"You can't force me do a single thing," Viola interjected with a sharpness in her tone, effectively silencing any forthcoming words from her grand-merè.
Victoriè, though attempting to veil her anger, failed to fully conceal it, as her tone betrayed her true emotions. "I fail to comprehend why this poses such a Delma for you. Your bond with Theodore spans back to your childhood, and there are those who endure far graver predicaments."
"Can't you see that I couldn't care less about others?" Viola stated with unwavering clarity. "This is my existence you're manipulating. My life isn't a game of chess for you to toy with using your pawns."
Viola fought valiantly to halt the tears cascading from her eyes, but alas, she couldn't prevent a solitary tear from escaping and tracing its path down her cheek.
Theodore, at least she was aware of his situation. But that didn't offer much solace. Everyone she knew who had arranged marriages led miserable lives, including her own parents.
"Always so dramatic, Viola," Victorie scoffed, rolling her eyes and casting a dismissive glance to the side.
Victorie continued, "Know your role," she sneered, "For as a pureblood woman, your duty lies in forging a prosperous union and ensuring the continuation of Houses of Black and Rosier."
"I beg to differ! I have fulfilled all the expectations placed upon me. I never argue, I never defy you," Viola explained, her voice filled with conviction. "And it is only natural for me to feel justified frustration at being treated as a mere accessory, destined to serve a man."
Before Viola could fully comprehend the situation, a sharp sting erupted across her cheek as Victoriè struck her with an intensity she had never experienced before. The pain was jarring, leaving her feeling disoriented and unfamiliar with such a harsh blow.
Victorie, always poised and composed, held her pride close, never resorting to physical violence. Instead, she favored more subtle and insidious methods of punishment, such as firm pinches or forceful grabs. However, she guarded these outbursts of anger and cracks in her composed facade, never allowing others to witness them. She cherished her prestige and self-control above all else.
But in that moment, something inside Victoriè cracked as she gazed upon Viola. Whose eyes were filled with unshed tears, and her hand trembled as she held her reddened cheek.
"What a foul mouth you possess," Victoriè remarked, her eyes widening in astonishment. Viola silently questioned if the sharpness of Victoriè's tone surpassed even the sting of her slap. "Viola, I have instilled in you a higher standard of behavior. Pack your belongings, we'll be departing."
With that, she departed, closing the door behind her, leaving Viola with a throbbing cheek. But that physical pain paled in comparison to the deeper sorrow that consumed her. The realization struck her like a dagger: she would forever be under Victoriè's control, unable to live a life of her own. The weight of this realization weighed heavily on Viola's heart.
In the shadows of the manor, Alton forcefully ushered Theo into a room, firmly shutting the door behind them. With a swift motion, he shoved Theo onto the opulent leather couch, the impact echoing through the dimly lit space.
"Are you truly that dense, Theodore?" Alton's voice dripped with condescension as Theo rose from the depths of the leather couch. "I had planned a grand opportunity for you, one that held the promise of greatness. Yet, you managed to not only disgrace yourself but also tarnish my name in the process."
"I did nothing of the sort!" Theo's voice resonated with echoes of his father's own. "I did not flout the illicit pact between you and her twisted grandmother."
Alton's anger nearly manifested as a bitter chuckle. "Your hasty departure spoke more than words ever will."
Theo's frustration etched across his face as he ran his hands through his disheveled hair. "In truth, my abrupt departure was but a desperate rush to reunite with my beloved betrothed--"
Before he could utter another word, a searing sting traced its path across his cheek, a brutal punch finding its mark. The pain jolted through him, leaving him dazed and disoriented, yet there was a strange familiarity to such a vicious blow.
"Don't you dare talk back to me! I am your father!" Alton's voice boomed with frustration. "You've been infatuated with her since you were a mere child. If anything, you should be grateful to me for planning such an arrangement."
And so, Alton exited the room in, leaving Theodore to grapple with his own swirling thoughts. The weight of the situation settled upon him like a heavy cloak, and he couldn't help but gulp in realization of what lay before him.
-
... surprise ?
I have sooooo much planned for them istg.
Dw tho, the arrangement isn't gonna happen until they finish hogwarts. No ones getting married off at 15 lol.
Ps. I haven't edited this chap so sorry if there's anything repetitive or spelling mistakes.
Thank u 4reading!
-Angie.
Word count: 2830