Lavinia's summer was spent in a strange world of contradictions that seemed to come flying in from all sides.
First, her Herbology grades had improved, by some miracle Lavinia didn't remotely understand, but wasn't about to question. This pleased her mother, certainly, but led to an odd sort of conflict between mother and daughter. After all, Rhea was proud of her daughter's improvement and wanted Lavinia to know that she would be rewarded for making the changes demanded of her. On the other hand, though improved, Lavinia's marks were still far from what Rhea wanted them to be and she wanted to make it clear that this little improvement wasn't enough. The Selwyn family demanded perfection, after all. The result was a conversation that left Lavinia simultaneously joyful and hollow and frankly confused. So she responded as she always did and decided not to think too much on it.
Second was the issue of William. Lavinia loved her little brother fiercely and had anyone bothered to ask her a year ago - and had she been honest, a frankly unlikely scenario - Lavinia would have said that she wanted nothing more than to protect her brother from the pressures academic life had brought to her. She wanted to shelter him from the expectations that weighed her down every time she saw Paris soaring down from the Hogwarts rafters, a letter tied to his foot. She still did.
Lavinia had always acted as a shield in her family. Her mother's rages could soar out of control, and it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Lavinia to be the stopping block. It was like a dance they did. Lavinia brought her mother down. She calmed her. That was her role in family life. She stood between her mother's rage and the servants - if not physically, then verbally. She was the voice of reason when Rhea wanted the impossible, or when some little thing tipped the scales on a long day.
She didn't mind. She knew her mother was at heart, a fiercely loyal person. She wanted to protect her own, protect her family, protect her reputation. And it was the ferocity of this that sometimes drove her past reason. William being a few minutes late to dinner was no reason to fuss, Lavinia would insist. After all, what would the servants think? His shirt being untucked at a party? Let Lavinia deal with it. Guests would see it as a sweet sibling bond instead of a domineering mother. In short, Lavinia knew how to step sideways around her mother, knew how to protect her family. While simultaneously protecting herself. It helped, of course, that usually, Rhea's rage wasn't focused or directed at Lavinia, who went to great lengths to keep it that way.
The new problem with William was that he didn't seem to need her protection anymore. Rhea never raged at him. She never even seemed much annoyed. Indeed, both she and her husband doted on their son. Bragged about his marks, his Quidditch skills, his friend group. So much so that Lavinia felt unnecessary. He didn't need her anymore.
But here was the second contradiction. Behind closed doors and in their rare private moments, William resented his parents' sudden overzealous support. And once, he even asked Lavinia why she kept leaving him to deal with them on his own.
Lavinia had been shocked to say the least, not knowing what to do. She couldn't exactly tell her mother not to brag about her son, especially not when the other matriarchs simply lapped it up, vying for Rhea's favor, no doubt in the hopes of setting up their daughters. She also didn't understand what William was upset about. She would have killed to have her mother look at her the way she looked at William. Like he was her entire life, her source of greatest pride.
Once, at a midsummer party, Lavinia did manage to snatch a share of her mother's praise, though the context made her squirm slightly.
She was sitting in the shade, wearing a sunshine yellow dress that Rhea said made her look like a spotty lemon, trying not to get a sunburn in the bright summer heat, when none other than Walburga Black sat down next to her. Lavinia straightened her spine subconsciously. Though no longer the unquestioned leader of the pureblood women's circles thanks to her eldest son's disgrace, Walburga was nonetheless a figure who commanded respect. It helped, Lavinia thought privately, that she gave off the air of someone who might eat you if you dared talk down to her.
"Hello, dear," said Walburga and Lavinia blinked, masking her moment of confusion by shifting to face the older woman.
"Hello, Mrs. Black," she said politely. "So lovely to speak to you." She could feel herself putting on the mask she always wore at these parties. The polite, demur girl, the perfect daughter. Properly convinced of her superiority due to her blood, but who knew her place in this world was well below those who commanded their families.
"Lovely," Walgburga echoed, inclining her head. There was a beat of silence and Lavinia felt her confusion growing. What on Earth was Walburga Black doing talking to her alone? Lavinia glanced around to find her mother and for a brief moment, made eye contact across the sunny lawn. Rhea gave a short, sharp nod that Lavinia took to mean she was coming. Thank Merlin. Lavinia didn't know what exactly this was about, but she still didn't want to mess it up.
"My son," Lavinia didn't have to ask which, "Talks very much about you," Walburga said at last. "I'm given to understand you've helped him with his lessons." There was a disguised scowl at the end of the sentence that Lavinia would have missed if she hadn't grown up listening to her mother use the exact same tone.
Lavinia smiled. "He is easy to teach," she demurred.
Walburga smiled and Lavinia breathed an internal sigh of relief at the matriarch's approval. "A talented boy, but alas, he didn't inherit his father's skill in Transfiguration."
No, but Sirius did. It was no secret that Sirius Black was one of the top students in Transfiguration, right besider Potter. It was also no secret that he didn't try in the slightest. It was simultaneously a point of great pride and disappointment to Professor McGonagall.
But it would be a disaster if she brought up Sirius. Walburga had by now firmly established that her eldest son was not to be mentioned under any circumstances. So Lavinia just smiled and nodded her agreement.
"He tells me you yourself are rather gifted in your lessons," Walburga pressed on.
Lavinia couldn't help but wonder how much it grated on the woman to give even that small compliment. Which of course, meant Walburga wanted something from her. What, she wasn't sure.
"Thank you," she said, choosing her words carefully. She needed to strike the right tone. Not arrogant, but not self-deprecating. "I am lucky to have friends who think so highly of me."
"She's being modest," said a voice Lavinia knew well as a hand landed on her shoulder. Rhea had swooped in. Probably to make sure Lavinia didn't screw anything up, and the younger girl was infinitely grateful. "Our Lavinia is top of her class."
Lavinia looked up to see her mother smiling down at her with a pride she hadn't seen directed at her in a long while.
"Mother," Lavinia said, blushing, playing at embarrassment.
"Hush, Lavinia, you're too humble," her mother reprimanded gently, patting her shoulder.
Turning back to Walburga, Lavinia saw her watching the entire exchange with a slight smirk on her lips. She felt the joy of her mother's pride fizzling at the edges. That look meant something.
"Rhea, you flatter her so," said Walburga, her smirk still firmly in place.
"And rightly so," Rhea countered. "She's a star pupil and ever so popular. I'm sure your Regulus would tell you the same. He is such a dear friend of Lavinia's."
"You two do get on rather well, don't you?" asked Walburga, looking pointedly at Lavinia.
"He's a good friend," she said simply, and when Walburga seemed unsatisfied, she elaborated. "We often do our work together and he's very helpful." Then, realizing that made him sound far too soft for Walburga's taste, she added, "He certainly knows what he wants to learn from school, even if it's not in the curriculum."
It was true. All of the boys in Lavinia's little circle had a habit of congregating in the library to read books that Lavinia found rather dark for her taste. And she was sure that the only way those subjects would ever be taught would be in Defense Against the Dark Arts. And they certainly wouldn't teach students how to do any of those spells.
Walburga smiled, a contented, self-satisfied sort of smile that made Lavinia squirm. She glanced up at her mother, and found the expression mirrored there.
"She has promise," Walburga stated simply, making meaningful eye contact with Rhea, who smirked.
Looking back at Lavinia, the Black matriarch said, "I am very glad you and my son get on so well. I hope you two remain... good friends."
Something about the way she emphasized the last two words made Lavinia's stomach clench uncomfortably as she suddenly understood what this entire conversation had been about. But, like the good daughter she knew she had to be, Lavinia covered the realization with a smile and murmur of assurance.
Once Walburga had departed, Rhea patted her daughter on the shoulder again, her body language screaming of pride. "You did wonderfully, dear," she said, obviously delighted, before returning to the circle of chattering women she'd left only minutes ago.
Lavinia didn't know how to respond. She was certain she'd just auditioned for a part she wasn't sure she wanted. Wasn't she young for them to be considering this already? She'd always known that as the first daughter of a powerful family, her marriage would be an arranged affair in which she had little say, but she'd assumed she would have at least until her final few years at Hogwarts. Not that she had anything to base that off of. The only person she really knew who had been in her situation was Narcissa, and that had been assumed from when she was little. Everyone had called it a foregone conclusion. Was that what this was too?
Lavinia found herself looking around the garden, wondering which of these women, with their fancy clothes and fake smiles knew about this. She wondered if any of them resented her for it. Or maybe that explained why her parents were so focussed on William these days. They'd already decided her future for her.
She couldn't help but consider the possibility. Regulus was her friend, and a good one at that. They got on. But she liked - she stopped herself, and amended the thought. She didn't like him like that. Of course, she knew what her mother would say. Marriage isn't about love. Rhea was firmly of the opinion that marriage was about power and frankly, it showed in her own relationship.
It could be worse, Lavinia supposed. At least he was her friend.
She mentally shook herself. What was she thinking about that for. She was young. Marriage was years away. And in the meantime... well. Maybe she would have some luck on the romantic front with someone she actually did like that way. She rolled her eyes at herself. What a hopeless romantic, wasting thoughts on that. On him.
She went to bed that evening confused and torn, not at all sure what to feel about having her life laid out before her by her mother's careful machinations. She supposed it could be worse, much worse. But still...
She slept fitfully that night, unable to shake the feeling that she had lost something that day.
A/N: This is getting ridiculous and I think I need a hobby. Other than homework and writing. Which are both great and all, but I think I'm turning into a hermit. Anyway, I know there have been a lot of updates lately, which I hope y'all think is a good thing. This frequency of updates is probably not sustainable, but I have enough chapters already written that I figure if I write a chapter, then I can publish a chapter, and if I don't, then we're sticking to the every other day thing, at least until I run into that fun little wall we call writer's block.So I guess consider this a warning that this can't last forever, but I'm making it last as long as I can :)
As ever, I hope y'all enjoy!