.....
Lycelle hated parties. She had ever since she was little, and the Yule Balls at Draco and Blaise's estates every year were not an exception. She'd never felt that she fit in at them, or really anywhere at all, and she sincerely wished that they would just let her stay in her room all night. Knowing that was impossible, she didn't argue when the house elf came in to do her hair and slip a pastel green gown over her head. She didn't fight it when it applied the cosmetic spells that it had been given leave to perform, or when it dutifully slipped her feet into the strappy sandals waiting for her. Glancing in the mirror, she sighed audibly.
"Why so down, sweetheart?" The mirror questioned in a feminine soprano. "You look fabulous."
"Thank you." She replied, and turned away.
She supposed she looked passable. Her dark brown hair, a twin of Pansy's, hung to the middle of her back in loose waves, and the black kohl lining her eyes made the green in the hazel orbs stand out. But she was nothing special, definitely not a classic beauty like her sister, and she had grown to hate her own reflection. There was a knock at her door and she called for whoever it was to enter. Hermione walked in, Mephite at her heels as always, and she was already dressed for the Ball as well. Straightened hair the color of meranti hung just a little past her shoulders, her eyelids had been dusted a light mauve, and her cyan-shaded gown shimmered as she walked.
Gods, even the mudblood looked better then she did.
"Good evening, Hermione." She greeted the other girl, and Hermione smiled.
"Are you ready? You look wonderful to me."
"Thanks, and yes, I believe so. Is everyone else in the foyer already?" Lycelle asked as they walked out of her room. Those who'd been staying at the Manor would be announced to the guests (who had arrived an hour ago) last, and they were all meeting up with each other in the foyer beforehand.
"I think so. And tell me honestly...What should I be expecting?" Hermione questioned, and Lycelle knew that she'd been dying to ask all day.
"Anything, mostly." She replied. "It should all go quite normally until after the fireworks at midnight. Then the liquor and the Nirvana are brought out, and there's no telling what might happen."
"The Nirvana?" Hermione asked with a small frown. "What on earth is that?" Lycelle laughed.
"The pureblood drug of choice, I suppose you could say. Only seven people alive today can brew it, and you've been staying with four of them. It...it is freedom, joy, abandonment of all reservations and restraint. The wizarding aristocrats only let their hair down, per say, once a year. But when they do, they go all out. Most will only remember tonight as a swirl of colors, music, magic and laughter. This is their escape from their titles and positions, their responsibility and obligations. They feel safe here, and each new person admitted takes the same oath of secrecy that you did earlier."
"Oh." Hermione said faintly.
"The Nirvana can also go bad, of course, as nothing is completely perfect. But it's rare for that to happen, especially with almost every single person consuming it. Narcissa, Silana and Severus won't partake because of the chance that someone will react negatively, and anyone under sixteen is sent to their rooms, including myself."
"Who is it that can brew this...stuff?" Hermione inquired, and Lycelle shot her a look.
"Severus, Draco, Blaise and, now, Virginia. Pansy said that they started it the second day here." She said, and noticed Hermione stiffen. "What?"
"Nothing. It's just—Well, do you know what...happened?" The other girl asked hesitantly.
Of course she knew what had happened. It was one of the reasons that she was even at the Manor. She'd been told before the holidays that she might be needed, and then the day before yesterday, a Malfoy eagle owl had swooped into Parkinson Hall right before dinner. It had been from Blaise, and he'd given her a short overview on what had been going on, then requested that she come the next day and do something about Hermione. He hadn't specified what, and the tone of the letter had suggested that he really didn't give a shit, so she had thought on it. How to get the nosy Gryffindor girl to quit causing trouble?
Then she'd walked in yesterday and seen the loneliness in the girl's eyes. Her decision being made instantly, she'd gone to help without any intention of actually befriending the girl. But damned if she wasn't starting to like her. The pureblood in her rebelled at the thought, while her heart, which she'd been told was much too trusting, reached out to the other girl. Four years separated them, rival Houses separated them, but they seemed to actually have quite a bit in common. Both loved to read, both loved their classes, and both loved knowledge above all else. In less than a day, Lycelle found herself starting to trust the other girl, and her sister's voice echoed in her head.
'Never put faith in a mudblood, Lycelle, for they are weak-willed and easily corrupted. Our lives are too dark and too intense on too many different levels. Levels that they cannot even begin to comprehend. It will only bring you grief.'
How many times had Pansy told her that? Her sister had never lied to her, but she wanted to make a decision on her own for once. She was almost fourteen and about to finish her third year at Hogwarts. Surely she was old enough to decide whether or not be friends with someone, even if it was a Gryffindor. After all, where would they be if Draco and Blaise hadn't given Virginia a chance? Okay, well, she knew that was a bit different, but still. Hermione seemed like a perfectly nice girl, even if she did have vitiated blood and a few character flaws that were likely to get her maimed or killed while around Lycelle's Housemates.
"Yes, I heard about it." Lycelle responded, taking in Hermione's pale face and worried brown eyes. "Look, I love my sister, alright? Shit, she's almost like half of a mother to me. But I'm not a little miniature Pansy, no matter what you may believe. I think what happened with Anton was fucked up because of the timing and because you chose him, but I don't overly blame or condemn you for it, alright?"
"That's the same thing Ginny said." Hermione whispered softly. "She told me that she couldn't without being a hypocrite, because she still would have lain with Blaise and Draco even if they hadn't wanted a relationship with her. Then she'd mumbled something like, 'If you'd only been a Slytherin, or even just a pureblood', but I'm not sure what she meant."
"She meant that if you were a Slytherin, Pansy might still have been upset for obvious reasons, but no one else would have been, not even her friends, and she wouldn't have been nearly so mad. Casual sex in our House is nothing remotely new, after all, and—" Hermione cut her off.
"Then why do they all look at me like...like they do?" She asked, just a hint of something desperate in her voice. Lycelle stopped, gave her a long, searching look, and pulled her into one of the many shadowy alcoves that were built into the walls all over the Manor.
"Alright, listen to me, Hermione." She started seriously. "I like you, okay? But I'm...different then the others. They look at you like that because you're not a Slytherin. You're not even pure. If you were, they wouldn't have lost the little bit of respect that they had for you. They see most mud—muggleborns who, no offense, whore for them, as nothing more than that. Whores. They do not like your kind, and they never will. The only reason I'm more open to it is because I grew up with my grandmother, and she's not as...strict about such things. So, yes, our House is all for casual sex, and no one is ostracized for it like they are in the other Houses." She paused; making sure that the other girl understood what she was saying before continuing.
"No one but muggleborns. They see you as lesser than them, and they have plenty of justifiable reasons. The blood running through our veins is ancient, timeless, powerful, while the blood of muggles is weak and magicless. Mixing the two decreases the essence of it, even I agree with that. I'm not necessarily saying that it makes you weaker magically, but it does dilute the...quality. And my Housemates, well, you know how strong most of them are, how dark. And the darker they become, the closer they intertwine themselves with the void, the more the old magick in their blood awakens. That awakening gives them new perception, and they can see, they can smell, the tain—the mixed blood in a muggleborn's veins. You smell weak to them, you smell like prey, you smell like something lower on the evolutionary chain."
"That's—" Hermione started, but Lycelle waved her silent. The girl needed to hear this, or she was going to end up dead.
"Horrible? Wrong? Unfair? Get used to it if you want to make a life for yourself in our world. The purebloods rule, light and dark alike, and while many act as if they don't care about the mixed bloodlines in the public eye, they do. Slytherins are simply open about it. We are also possessive and protective of those we love, for we love few, and it has been bred into us for millennia as a means for survival. For someone like Pansy, who grows stronger and darker each day, the instinct to simply lash out and make you bleed grows as well, because her waking blood screams that you are inferior, tainted. For someone like Blaise, however, it takes every ounce of self-control not to rip your throat out and feed your remains to his cats."
"Feed my—" Hermione started incredulously, but Lycelle stopped her yet again.
"Don't dwell on the technicalities, for you have far bigger problems then what happens to your shell after its death. Do you realize, truly realize, how very many times you've come within an inch of dying? Because I don't think you do, or you never would have set foot in this place. My Housemates are not people you want to fuck with, alright? None would lose sleep over killing you, nor even so much as bat an eye. Pansy would smile as your blood ran, and Blaise would laugh as you sucked in your last breath. And Virginia is not the safe haven that you've built her up to be in your mind. Because when it comes down to it, she will side with them even if it means doing nothing as they slaughter you."
Hermione paled, but Lycelle didn't soften her words. Blaise wanted her to handle the situation, and she didn't plan on letting him down. It was the first thing that they'd ever really asked of her, and she knew the reason that no one had before. Because they all knew that her blood was the only thing that had gotten her into Slytherin, just like Virginia's had been the only reason the Hat had agreed to put her in Gryffindor, and it had still been seriously reluctant in both cases. She was cunning enough, she supposed, and could be sly when she chose, but she lacked their ambition and their easy, natural ability to close off their hearts and emotions with a mere thought.
She'd always been a step aside and behind them, always been too open and caring. She wasn't nearly as powerful as most of her Housemates her age, because she simply didn't feel the void inside her as strongly as they seemed to. All purebloods felt either a pull to darkness or to light, a pull that started stirring stronger and stronger when they reached sixteen or seventeen. And she did feel it, but it was faint, distant, much more so then it should have been for a girl of almost fourteen with Parkinson blood in her veins. But she was Slytherin enough to continue ruthlessly, even if deep inside, she knew that she did it because she wanted them to be wrong about Hermione.
"I know she is your friend, and I know that this will sound cruel, but she is also a dark, pureblooded witch fully coming into her power, and you're a muggleborn. A light witch, or even a dark witch that's less attached to the void, such as myself, has no real problem being around you. But Virginia is not either of those things, and it would be bad enough if she were simply a powerful black witch. But she's not just that, either. She's an Elemental shapeshifter who has taken the Blood of the Ancients, and in doing so, mixed her own with that of a Malfoy and a Zabini. How she manages to be around you as much as she is without having so much as drawn your blood, I have no idea."
"Maybe it's because she isn't a complete animal." Hermione offered indignantly, and Lauren sighed.
"That's exactly what you have to stop doing. You stand there and say 'animal' as if it were filthy and disgusting, while even I can see the obscured desire in your eyes. Just like I see it every time your eyes land on Draco, and, to a slighter degree, Anton and Blaise. You've convinced yourself that the second was only a mild infatuation, and you fear the latter too much to keep your eyes on him for too long. What I find stupid of you is that you seem to think that Draco's just going to continue ignoring it. Blaise has already warned you off, as has Virginia, but our silver prince isn't exactly known for his patience either. You fuck up again, and you're going to find yourself being torn apart from four different directions, possibly five at this point, although Padma seems more...laid back then that."
"So she is with them? I was won—"
"Are you even listening?" Lycelle asked, her own patience running thin. This girl was supposed to be one of the brightest witches in their school! "This is not about their fucking sex life! I have no idea if she is or not, and it's not any of my bloody business what they do in the first place, nor is it yours. This is about keeping you alive. I'm beginning to wonder if you do it on purpose, since that's the only way for you to draw their attention. I like you, Hermione, but I just don't understand this. Any person with half the intelligence of a flobberworm would have learned by now to shut their mouth, avoid eye contact, and stay as far away as conceivably possible from all of them. But you keep coming back. Why?"
"We need their help, Ginny's my friend, and—"
"'We'? Who's 'we'? Ron's not talking to you and Harry's being hunted. And didn't you need help in the first place for Harry? Yet you weren't even on speaking terms with him before yesterday. You could have gone back to your parents' house for Yule, but yet you're here, and I'm guessing that you knew Virginia would feel sorry for you and bring you along. I don't know what you're thinking, or if you're even thinking at all, but the best thing you could do when we get back to school is never talk to them again. However, if you're determined to stick around, then you'd better wizen up a bit. Or do you wish for one of them to snap and shower you with black salt? There will be no escape then."
"O-Of course n-not." Hermione replied, her voice wavering a bit at the thought.
"Then, for the love of all that's holy, stay away from Blaise, Draco and Anton. My sister will not tolerate the least bit of shit from you now that she has that ring on her finger, and if you keep it up, Virginia will catch you gazing greedily at her lovers again one day, and it will not be pretty. I know that you fear death from Blaise and Pansy, and in the back of your mind, where your instincts lay dormant, you fear it from Draco as well since your subconscious doesn't hold the same illusions that you do when you look at him. But if you drive her to it, Virginia will not hesitate to drain you dry and send you straight to Hades. It would be wise not to give her a reason for such an action."
"I won't." Hermione said in a small voice. "We're going to be late." She added randomly, while Lycelle looked at her, studied her wounded eyes, and shook her head. Hopefully, the girl had heard her words and would heed them. If not, then their budding friendship wasn't going to last very long. Not very long at all.
...
They continued walking in brooding silence until Hermione broke it.
"So they'll never accept me, never like me? Just as a friend." She clarified quickly when she saw the expression crossing Lycelle's face.
"No."
"Is there even any chance, however small, that I could gain that 'little bit of respect' back?" Gods, she hoped so.
"N—Hmm. I really don't know. I suppose you could, but it would probably involve you doing something very stupid and more than likely fatal."
"Oui." A voice intoned from behind them, causing them to spin. "So, by all means, go ahead and do it. Your death will make this night all the grander." Mira suggested with a smirk, Gregory and Vincent at her side.
The blond girl was wearing a gray gown that was trimmed in white fur, and looked as sharp and fabulous as she typically did. She must have picked out her escorts' robes, because the dark gray fabric was cut to show off the bulging muscles of their chests and arms rather than conceal them. They were almost exactly the same height and size, and both had gold-streaked, dark brown hair that fell to their chins. It was styled instead of shaggy for once, and Hermione realized that they must really like Mira, because they wouldn't even let Draco and Blaise, who they adored and very nearly idolized, anywhere near their hair, as she had observed on occasion.
But one could still only catch glimpses through their short, yet concealing, locks, could only catch glimpses of cheekbones that had narrowed sharply, of lips that had filled out and darkened, of eyes like melted chocolate. They had definitely turned out nicely. They'd resembled their fathers during their early youth, but their mothers' bloodlines had done them good as they'd grown older. They still had their sires' builds, but it had mixed with their mothers' beauty and turned them into quite an appealing eyeful when you could actually see enough of them to realize how attractive they had become. She knew what their parents looked like from pictures, and had drawn her own conclusions.
"What did I do to you?" Hermione questioned, but Mira ignored her and turned her eyes to Lycelle.
"Blaise wished to speak with you, but I doubt there's time for it now. Find him tomorrow after you rise, bien? And you," she said, her gaze going back to Hermione and turning venomous, "had better not cause my cousin and his lovers any trouble tonight. If anyone has earned the right to relax, it's them. Don't fuck it up." Then she was gone, sweeping down the hall with Gregory and Vincent following her and shooting their own threatening glares at Hermione as they passed. ((okay?))
"Well." Lycelle said after a moment. "She's another one that you shouldn't cross. Very protective of Blaise and Draco, she is. She nearly killed an Irish courtesan who was so disappointed that the two wanted nothing more to do with her after one night that she told an entire bar full of muggles that they'd raped her. Mira was only fifteen, but she laid waste to the entire place before her mother and Silana had been able to subdue her. Now that had been a nasty mess to clean up."
"Wonderful." Hermione muttered as they started down the hallway again. "Is there anyone here who doesn't hate me?"
"Oh, don't be so down. Is it really so bad that you'll probably live a long, peaceful life with some normal, loving man? Oh, look, here we are." Lycelle said as they entered the main foyer from a side passage.
Everyone was already there but for Ginny, Blaise, Draco, Padma and the twins, and they made quite a sight. The Weasley men that were present, Arthur, Bill and Charlie (Ron refused to come), were all dressed in robes of gold satin that had been embroidered with red filigree, Yule gifts from Narcissa and Silana, while Molly wore a gown of the same material and coloring. Pansy and Anton stood apart from the others, their heads lowered as they whispered between themselves, and the light shimmered over the deep blue Egyptian cotton that molded to their lithe frames. Melody and Daphne were a few feet away and to the left, their gowns done in a violet that made their auburn hair shine.
Severus, who was still all in black even for the ball, stood beside Narcissa, Silana and Armynel, who looked almost too beautiful to be real in flowing gowns of silver silk, their hair braided and coiled atop their heads like crowns. Hermione smiled as Lycelle whispered that if any of their people ever donned true crowns again, Narcissa and Silana were sure to be among them. But now was not the time to think of such things, as Sirius (in the Polyjuiced body of a young Mediterranean boy) walked up to them, his robes as black as his name and his now-brown eyes still slightly angry. Lycelle had stepped in the night before and explained what had happened with Harry, and his worry had turned to rage.
Rage at Harry, rage at Voldemort, whom he claimed was behind his godson's rash actions, and rage at himself for not being there to stop it. Although how he thought he would have accomplished such a thing, she had no idea. But he looked a whole lot calmer now, and she was glad to see it. He kissed Lycelle's cheek as propriety demanded, but Hermione he wrapped up in a hug. He seemed to see the conflict behind her eyes, and he smoothed her hair down, telling her not to worry, that everything would work out. Then two banshees entered the room and everyone grew silent, following them at their beckoning gestures.
"Where are they taking us?" She whispered, and Lycelle leaned over to whisper next to her ear.
"The Grand Ballroom. It's spelled so that only the banshees can enter the wards around it. As they are impossible to coerce or corrupt, it ensures the guests' safety above all else."
"I thought the Manor was already as safe as a place could be." Hermione hissed under her breath.
"It is. It's just an extra precaution, is all. Too many important people will be gathered in one place at one time not to still be paranoid even with this house's defenses. Don't worry about it. It makes them all feel more secure." Lycelle responded as they filed one by one into a bright, torch-lit hallway. It wasn't that long of a walk before they came to a huge set of ebony doors, which swung open to reveal nothing but blackness. They could hear the guests inside though, laughing and chatting, their voices nearly lost due to the sweet, haunting music that poured out of the open doorway. The music died off in another few seconds, and a deep, heraldic voice rang out through the new wave of silence.
"Lady Narcissa Malfoy and Lord Severus Snape!" It called out, and the two mentioned disappeared through the curtain of misty shadows when the banshees placed their palms upon the wall, while enthusiastic applause met their entrance.
"Lady Silana Zabini and Lady Armynel Zabini!" Again, the two mentioned disappeared, more applause echoed out into the hall, and so it continued.
"Honored guests, Madame Molly Weasley and Monsieur Arthur Weasley!" Silence met that announcement for several seconds, before the clapping began anew, although it was somewhat hesitant. She could just imagine the surprise those inside were feeling.
"Their oldest sons, Monsieur Bill Weasley and Monsieur Charlie Weasley!" The same unsure-but-polite clapping greeted them as well.
"Lord Anton McGregor and his betrothed, Lady Pansy Parkinson!" Silence again, and then the people inside exploded, their cheers nearly deafening them. Apparently, the engagement between them was approved of, to say the least.
"Lady Melody Arcdine and Lady Daphne Wilbrige!" The applause continued, but at a more sedate level.
"Lady Mira Zabini, Lord Gregory Goyle and Lord Vincent Crabbe!" They vanished as well, and Hermione felt her stomach tightening. They were next. She was about to have to walk into that room and act as if she belonged there, which she knew she didn't. And Sirius, since he was an escaped convict on the run and in another person's body, couldn't even use his name to shield her from their sure-to-be curious and hostile stares.
"Lady Lycelle Parkinson, Mademoiselle Hermione Granger and Monsieur Arturo Dominick!" Inhaling deeply, Hermione walked with them through the barrier, and when they came out on the other side, she was sure that she was dreaming.
Because it appeared that they'd been relocated to the moon, but she knew that it couldn't be, since Lycelle hadn't mentioned leaving the Manor, that and the fact that it was snowing. Regardless, she was stunned. The view was breathtaking. A trillion stars glittered overhead and all around, and Earth loomed brightly to the right of them, a vibrant mix of greens, blues and browns. White marble stretched across a huge expanse of ground, blending into the sandy soil at its perimeters perfectly. Candles and balls of witchlight were spread around, lighting up the six long tables that sat fifty people apiece and had empty dishes awaiting the first course.
Another, shorter table sat lengthwise at the head of the others, and that was where she saw the others who'd come in right before her taking their seats. A few others were also sitting there, and when Mira took her seat, only six were left, directly in the center. People were spread out all over the place, and she felt faint as she recognized many of the leading political figures in the wizarding world sipping their wine, oblivious to her scrutiny as they themselves scrutinized her. A live band was set up not too far away from the tables, and the marble changed color in the center of the gathering, becoming a black as dark as the night sky that they were surrounded by.
It was obviously the dance floor, and many of the couples were already on it, frozen in place as the herald had drawn their attention. Their eyes bored into her and she flinched away, wanting to turn the other way and run. But Sirius took her arm and led her towards the end of the far right table, while Lycelle gave her an apologetic look before walking to the head of the one opposite theirs and placing herself beside a cold-looking woman with reddish-brown hair and a blond man who barely even looked at her. Hermione and Sirius had only just sat down when the herald's voice rang out again, and it startled her already frazzled nerves so badly that she nearly knocked her wine glass over.
"Lady Padma Patil, Monsieur Fred Weasley and Monsieur George Weasley!"
Invisible doors suddenly became visible, and they entered in a swirl of silk and satin, looking radiant. Fred and George were wearing robes of a deep, fathomless blue that matched their changed eyes, and their chin-length red hair framed their handsome faces. Padma stood between them, her arms linked with theirs and a small, soft smile on her rosy lips. Her gown was of a lighter blue, the color of a summer sky, and her green-speckled eyes looked as if they'd been dipped in a pool of contentment. Her thick, dark hair hung to her waist in shiny waves, except for in the front on either side, where the locks were pulled back and braided in elaborate coils.
Then the herald cried out again.
"Lord Draco Malfoy, Lord Blaise Zabini and Lady Virginia Weasley!"
Hermione just stopped herself from spitting wine all over the table.
"What? Did he say Lady?" She hissed at Sirius, but he looked just as confused as she felt. In fact, just about everyone did except for (surprise, surprise) the twins and Padma. But no one had time to say anything more, as the three of them appeared through the doorway. Startled gasps were heard all around the room, and Hermione realized that many hadn't seen them recently except in pictures.
And they looked even more ethereal then usual that night. Draco and Blaise had dressed identically in robes of crushed emerald velvet that were trimmed in black, and the material hugged them to their waists tightly, sleek muscles visible even through the thick fabric. The robes were slit down the sides from their hips to their feet, and the hems barely brushed the floor, whispering over marble as they moved with light-footed grace. The slits revealed teasing glimpses of black leather and snow-white flesh before their legs disappeared into tall, graphorn-hide boots. Their hair fell down around them like silken waterfalls, except for braids that matched Padma's exactly.
Ginny also wore velvet, but it was a gown instead of robes that clung to every curve, and it was dyed a purple so deep and dark it was almost black. The bodice looked as if she'd been poured into it, pushing her milky white breasts up enticingly and showing off her slender waist. Her smoky eyes were sparking, and her skirt was slit down the sides as well. Fishnet tights the same color as her dress, and which looked like spider webs, traveled the length of her long legs before they reached her five-inch spiked heels. Different hues of crimson swayed around her in tight ringlets, and she, too, had tiny, intricate braids plaited into the front of her hair, but she also wore a cloak of the same material as her gown.
"They look like fallen angels." Hermione muttered, not even aware that she had spoken aloud until Sirius questioned her.
"What are those?"
"Nothing. Just a muggle thing." She whispered back, watching the two trios take the last spots at the head table. They had barely sat down when one of the guests a few tables over stood and spoke.
...
Pansy watched her friends closely as they glided towards the head table. The use of a title before Virginia's name had shocked even her, and she wondered what they were up to, although she did have a nagging, impossible idea. There was no telltale ring on her friend's finger, nor had she been announced as their betrothed. And was Padma coming in with the twins a statement that the other three weren't with her sexually? Even their closest friends didn't know that detail, and it was slowly driving them all mad. But they had worn identical, sixteen-strand braids, which were reserved for members of the wizarding nobility who were bonded in some way to one another.
So they had answered the question of whether or not they had some sort of magical ties with her, but it left a thousand more unanswered, while creating an entire slew of new ones. They reached the table and took their seats, Draco and Blaise in the center, Virginia on Draco's left, Padma on Blaise's right, and Fred (the kohl around his eyes was black) sat beside his sister while George (the kohl around his eyes was dark gray) slid in beside Padma. And then she glimpsed the braids hidden in the twins' hair as they turned their heads to say something to their sister. Twelve strands, also in a bonding pattern, but with extra twists at the ends. Sweet Circe, what had they done?
Those little twists were the symbols of sworn liegemen.
"My lords?" A wizard called, standing. She thought for a moment before placing his name. Gransby Dirlock, the lord of a small fiefdom in northern Britain. He looked quite nervous. It probably had something to do with the fact that Blaise and Draco owned him.
"Yes?" Draco acknowledged him with a tilt of his head, his eyes glinting knowingly.
"I mean no disrespect, my lords, none at all, but...She is not a Lady, and it is not proper to address her as such. No Weasley has held a title in centuries." The man shot a sideways look at Virginia's parents. And his words were true. Everyone knew that they had been hit hard during the Inquisition, and their family had had no choice but to sell their properties in order to flee. In doing so, they had forfeited their titles and ruling responsibility. Things had never looked up for them after that, and it was what had started the feud between them and the Malfoys and Zabinis. Because it was those families that had talked them into selling, that had bought their lives from them and left them to ruin.
"We are aware of that." Blaise replied, but said no more, making the man sweat a bit.
"Then she should not bear one, my lords." The man said, fidgeting under their intense stares.
"Yes, she should. We wanted to break it to you gently, you see." Draco intoned silkily, just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Break what to us, my lords?"
"That we have given it all back." Blaise said simply, and the controlled masks of the guests cracked, their jaws dropping in a most undignified way. Arthur looked as if he were about to faint, especially when Draco continued after a few stunned seconds.
"Willow Bright and the rest of their ancestral lands have been returned to them, along with the titles that go with them. The rites to fully reunite the family members with their inheritance will be preformed in four days time, but Virginia and her twin brothers have already undergone it."
"Count yourselves lucky." Blaise added. "For you are witnesses to the restoration of a great House. But there will be time to talk of that later. For now, enjoy yourselves. This is a ball, is it not?"
"Yes, yes, Lord Zabini." The man gushed before falling back into his seat.
The band picked up once more as the first courses appeared on the tables, and soon people were laughing and jesting again, although they couldn't help shooting glances at the four Weasleys who had been completely floored by Draco and Blaise's little pronouncement. Pansy actually felt for them. To have the impossible handed to you within less than a minute, completely out of the blue, would have been a shock to just about anyone. Pansy had suspected that Draco and Blaise might do something like what they just had, but she'd never thought that they would restore the entire family. Nothing like it had been done since the last wizarding monarchy fell.
Dinner went by smoothly, the laughter of the guests growing louder as more and more wine was consumed. By the time dessert was served, she was quite tipsy herself, and Anton had had nearly twice as much as she had. They could barely keep their hands off of each other underneath the table, and their attention only went back to the others when the Yule presents (between lovers only) started being exchanged. Her excitement grew as it got closer and closer to Virginia's turn, as she and Padma were the only ones who knew what the other girl had gotten her boyfriends. It was hard to shop for males who had everything, but Virginia had come up with an absolutely genius idea.
Draco and Blaise went first, exchanging presents with one another. They had a tradition of only giving each other weapons for Yule, no one really knew why, but they always had. And they didn't disappoint. Blaise gave Draco a set of twin hatchets that looked ancient, yet were in perfect condition, and they were spelled to never miss their targets. Draco, in return, gave Blaise a Roman war bow that was studded with sapphires, and a quiver of solid silver arrows, the heads of which exploded on contact. Turning to Virginia, they handed her a long black box, which she opened to reveal a platinum pendant in the shape of a crescent moon.
"This," Draco said as his deft fingers removed it and clasped the silver chain it was attached to around her throat, "is an Isisian charm."
Those at the table and within hearing range grew still at his words. The way of that spell was lost to their people. How had they duplicated it? Surely they had to mean something else besides the charm that had inspired legends. It was fabled that only the greatest of their kind could actually produce one, and they had to be able to work in perfect harmony with a partner in order to accomplish it. It was a risky spell, as part of the makers' spirits were put inside it, and it was supposed to have the power to truly grant three wishes to whoever bore it. Virginia looked at her lovers with wide eyes, and then back down at the pendant, which seemed to melt into her flesh, disappearing.
"Wow." She said softly, running fingertips over the smooth skin that showed no signs of having a necklace buried underneath it. "Wow."
"So I take it that you approve?" Blaise asked, and Pansy thought that he was teasing until she looked over at them. He and Draco actually looked nervous. Blaise was chewing on his bottom lip, and Draco was obsessively smoothing the hem of his sleeve, while both had their eyes locked onto their girlfriend. She lifted her own to meet theirs, a brilliant smile on her face.
"Are you kidding? I love it!" She exclaimed ecstatically. Her boyfriends very nearly visibly sagged with relief. "I know how much time this had to have taken you, and how taxing it must have been. I was curious as to why you two seemed more weary than usual lately, but I think this answers that question. The price you paid for this means more to me than any amount of gold or jewels. Merci." ((Thank you.))
And then Virginia broke about a thousand rules of propriety as she crawled into Draco's lap and kissed him senseless in front of the entire assembly. An amused smirk twisted Blaise's lips as he watched them, but his eyes were turning dark and hungry. They broke apart after a minute and Virginia moved so swiftly that within a single heartbeat, she was straddling Blaise's lap as if she'd always been there. Her mouth had already found his and they kissed just as passionately. Pansy looked to Draco, whose eyes had glazed, and didn't try to suppress a smirk of her own. If everyone was given that sort of thanks for a gift, then they'd probably give them more often.
"Je t'aime deux." She heard Virginia whisper throatily, and was surprised to see her back in her seat. ((I love you both.))
"Nous t'aime aussi." They replied in unison, slightly breathless. Another smile lit up Virginia's face, although her eyes clouded with the same nervous worry that theirs had been full of moments ago. ((We love you too.))
"Would you like to see yours now?" She asked, and they nodded wordlessly, their eyes drinking in every movement that she made as she stood. Pansy and Padma exchanged anticipatory glances, and when they turned back, Virginia was on the other side of the table, facing her boyfriends, who now looked quite curious.
"Mon âme, what are you doing?" Draco queried, his frost-colored eyes flashing as he watched her.
"You said that you wanted to see your present." Virginia replied, her voice hiding her anxiousness admirably.
"Couldn't you show us from over here, though?" Blaise asked.
"Of course." She said. "If you want me to stand on the table, that is."
Their lips tightened as they fought smiles, and they motioned for her to continue. She closed her eyes and turned her back to them, reaching around and pulling all of that heavy hair over one shoulder. Her hands then went to the clasp of her cloak, and her boyfriends' confusion grew, as did their glares at the other males in the room who couldn't help but watch with bated breath. The clasp came undone and she let the thick cloak fall ever-so-slowly down her shoulders and to the floor. Her gown was backless, and the others at the head table got their first look at the masterpiece that was inked permantly into her skin.
The enchanted tattoo covered her entire back, from her shoulders to her waist, and even Pansy and Padma sucked in an awed breath. Had it been so vibrant earlier? Had it seemed so alive? Pansy didn't think so. They'd sat with her while she'd had it done, had held her hands as she'd screamed in agony for over three hours, and they'd had the bruises to prove it before she'd healed them. Enchanted tattoos were not easy to do or to have done, and she'd barely been able to stand when it was over. They'd been worried that her boyfriends would notice her exhaustion when they got back to the Manor, but they'd found them at the point of collapsing themselves.
The design on her back consisted of two crossed swords, one a twin of Blaise's own, and one a twin of Draco's. A constantly moving rune of infinity tied the blades together where icy silver met abyssal black, and thorny red roses twined around each sword from the Death and dragon shaped hilts to the razor-sharp points. A name was scrawled down each blade in the old tongue, the symbols done in graceful curves and flawless lines. The silver sword, which was outlined in black, also had the symbols done in the same void-like color, and they spelt out Draco's full name. The other sword was the exact opposite, Blaise's name shining like liquid mercury upon the black blade.
The colors seemed to shift and change, and it took the eyes a moment to realize that the vines of the roses were not vines at all, but tiny, slithering snakes, each one eating the tail of the one before it. Their small bodies writhed back and forth slowly, causing the blood-red petals of the roses to sway as if in a breeze. Pansy ripped her eyes away to look at Draco and Blaise, and knew when she saw their faces that Virginia had chosen the perfect gift. They looked as if they were falling in love with her all over again, their eyes shining with an open devotion that Pansy, in all her years of knowing them, had never seen before.
So what did you get two wizards who had everything? The one thing that they couldn't buy. Yourself, unmistakably branded as theirs for eternity.
.....
Anton downed another glass of wine that was spiked with Nirvana, the ambrosial flavor of the substance giving his taste buds their own small orgasm as Pansy's fingers slid tauntingly up his thigh. Digging his nails into the ebony wood of the arm of his chair, he tried to concentrate on not grabbing her by the hair, bending her over the table, and fucking her silly. It wasn't easy. Trying to distract himself, he let his eyes wander around the room. Those still too young to take part in the late night festivities had been sent to their rooms over two hours ago, and everyone else had proceeded to drink, smoke and snort their way into a blissful haze.
It didn't really matter how you decided to take the neon orange powder, but Anton preferred to drink it, since in his opinion, it never tasted better then it did in wine. Pansy disagreed, swearing that nothing was sweeter than mixing a teaspoon full into a mug of hot cocoa. His eyes traveled to Draco, Blaise and Mira, the stars that glittered everywhere seeming to swirl and leave multi-colored trails as his head moved. His friends had left their seats and were crowded around their mothers and Severus, laughing hysterically as they tried to get the adults to hit the Nirvana cigarillos they were holding out to them. They refused time and time again, not noticing George sneaking up behind them.
He sprinkled the bright powder into their goblets while their heads were turned before taking his seat again stealthily, and Draco, Blaise and Mira acted defeated a few moments later, going back to their own places. Virginia and Padma looked up with unfocused eyes as they sat down, and somehow still managed to appear rightfully suspicious. Anton looked away as a movement from his right caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see Melody place her hand on Daphne's thigh and whisper something in the girl's ear. He didn't think anything of it until a pink tongue darted out and licked the shell of said ear. Just stopping himself from choking, he nudged Pansy.
"What?" She asked, her hypnotic eyes meeting his. He would have forgotten what he was going to say in favor of simply staring at her, but a small moan from beside him brought back his train of thought.
"Did you know about Melody and Daphne?" He asked in a low voice, and disbelief flickered in her drugged gaze.
"What about them?" She questioned, and looked over his shoulder, her eyes widening at what she saw. "Oh gods. They're going to regret snorting so much of that shit tomorrow, especially if they keep that up."
"Tell me abou—" He started, but Narcissa's voice distracted them.
"Severus, dear, we really should do something about those horns. They don't become you at all."
"Horns?" Severus asked, and raised his hands to his forehead. His fingers came into contact with nothing, yet he still yelped in a very un-Severus-like way. "Where'd those come from?"
"I'm not sure, dear." Narcissa responded, and she got wobbly to her feet, leaning on the table for support.
A second later, she lost her balance completely and tumbled, somehow still gracefully, into Silana's lap. Severus moved to help her and succeeded only in getting his foot tangled in the bottom of Arthur's robes. He fell, giggling as he did so, and the sudden force of it yanked Arthur straight out of his chair and underneath the table. Molly let out peal after peal of delighted laughter, while her two oldest sons chuckled madly at their father's misfortune. Arthur didn't even try to get up, just laid on the floor laughing at himself, tears of mirth streaming down his ruddy face. Severus, however, surfaced just in time to see his wife locking lips with her best friend.
"Sweet fucking Merlin, my eyes!" Draco cried out in disgust, clamping his hands over the offended orbs. Blaise whimpered in agreement, and he had the same unable-to-look-away expression that one does when seeing a horrible accident.
"I dreamed this once." Severus said in a hushed, reverent whisper. "I really hope I'm not just doing it again." His words seemed to shake Blaise out of his horrified trance.
"Well, you have bloody problems, Severus." He snapped, before looking around desperately. "Do something, damn it! Make them stop!" Draco was the one to whimper in agreement that time, still not uncovering his eyes.
"I'm on Snape's side with this one." Fred intoned cheerfully, obviously enjoying their discomfort. "'Cause this is totally hot."
"Shut up, shut up now, or I swear by the gods that I'll zap you." Blaise threatened.
"Zap me?" Fred asked incredulously. "What on earth are you talking about? And you have to admit, your mums are definitely foxy." A small bolt of lightening shot out of Blaise's hand and wiped the teasing smirk right off Fred's face as all of his hair stood on end and his skin started sparking. "What the hell?" Fred exclaimed once he could talk again, and Blaise sneered, carefully not looking in his mother's direction.
"I told you I'd zap you." Blaise huffed, while Fred glared at his laughing twin and their friends. Then he looked back over at Blaise, as if considering something.
"Do it again." He requested, and the laughter stopped for a split second before starting up again gleefully. The next few minutes were highly entertaining for many people, as they watched Blaise electrocute Fred until the redheaded young man was talking nothing but gibberish and grinning insanely. Severus, meanwhile, was still ogling his wife and her friend, whose matching moans had their sons nearly coming out of their skin.
"That's it!" Draco declared, and summoned Virginia's fallen cloak. With his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he threw it over the two women and preformed a quick silencing spell. When Severus made a noise like a wounded animal, Blaise groaned and enlarged the cloak, allowing his godfather to slip underneath it with them.
"I'm not going to be able to eat for a week." Blaise complained, lighting another Nirvana cigarillo. The bright green, cloying smoke made its way up towards the heavens above them in coiling tendrils, and he sucked in a long drag, exhaling lethargically as the tension seemed to drain out of him. He passed it to Draco, who still looked quite shell-shocked, before he spied something in the distance and his navy eyes narrowed. "Make that three weeks, and would someone please gouge out my eyes?"
"What is it?" Padma asked from where she'd moved over earlier to sit next to Virginia while they'd been harassing their elders.
"Granger and—"
"Whatever it is, say no more." Draco cut him off. "I really, truly and honestly do not want to fucking know." But it was too late, as George followed Blaise's line of sight.
"Sirius!" He exclaimed, before immediately dropping his voice. No one else but those who had been at the Manor the last two days knew that Sirius was there, and they intended to keep it that way. Luckily, all of the guests were just as fucked up as they were.
"Didn't I just say that I didn't want to know?" Draco demanded, his nose scrunching up in severe distaste.
"Gods, she does get around now, doesn't she?" Pansy remarked acidly. She started to say something else when someone approached their table. Looking up, they were met with the familiar, yet somehow lacking, figure of Parvati Patil. The girl was obviously wasted, she could barely walk, but her gaze stayed steadily glued on her twin. Anton didn't miss Padma stiffening, didn't miss the guarded expressions that crossed Draco, Blaise, Virginia, Fred and George's faces.
"Well, sister, don't you look different." Parvati said as a way of greeting, and her voice had a nasty, jealous edge to it that Anton didn't like. And one glance in the girl's eyes told him more about how dissimilar she and her sister were than any words could have. Realization came to him even through his intoxicated state, and he groaned inwardly. Of course. Wizarding twins went one of two ways. They were either so alike and so close that they were thought to share a single soul between them, or they were completely different from one another in every way, opposite sides of a coin.
One guess as to which they'd turned out to be.
"I don't know, sister." Padma replied, her voice strained, yet as serene as always. "Do I?"
"That's not the point." Parvati stated, seeming to have forgotten the fact that she'd brought it up in the first place. And they did look a lot different, especially when they were together. It was like a third year's watercolor drawing standing before an authentic Van Gogh (who had been a wizard, of course). "What have you done? I've been sick the last few days, and I can barely sense you anymore."
"You could barely sense me in the first place." Padma replied, the first hint of anger breaking through her perpetual inner peace. Parvati attempted to glare and nearly fell over.
"You still think you're just so much better than me, don't you?" The girl accused.
"She is better than you." Virginia said, a menacing sneer twisting her scarlet lips. Gods, what did the girl do, Anton wondered, to merit such loathing from Virginia?
"Oh, thank you." Parvati responded sarcastically. "What an absolutely lovely hello from the hostess. Feeling better now that your family won't be dirt poor any longer, are you? Everyone knows how precious the vineyards at Willow Bright are." Virginia's eyes began burning, and she started to bite back when her boyfriends beat her to it.
"Remember to whom you speak." They hissed, and Parvati paled rapidly. Looking back over her shoulder as she retreated a few steps, she spotted her parents, who were completely unaware of what was happening, and it seemed to bolster her courage. But not enough for her to face them. Just enough for her to turn back to her sister with a look of such utter hate that it shocked Anton in a way that few things ever did anymore. Fred and George looked appalled, and he doubted that they'd ever met a set of twins like these before.
"I despise you." Parvati stressed in a low, furious voice, and Anton caught the flash of pain in Padma's eyes before an eerie, calm contempt settled inside of them.
"I know." She said emotionlessly. "The feeling is quite mutual, I can assure you."
"Why are you here? Why have you been here? You were supposed to come back from Paris days ago, and yet I find you seated at the head table as a guest of honor." Parvati spat out the last word, as if she didn't associate her twin with it inside her mind.
"She saved my life." Virginia supplied, the embers in her eyes beginning to morph into full-on flames.
"Padma?" Parvati questioned, giving a shrill laugh. "I don't believe you. How could my bookworm sister save so much as a doxy? All that knowledge and magic piled inside her brilliant mind, yet she uses none of it." She finished caustically, and Padma's control seemed to erode under her sister's sharp, cutting words. She rose from her chair regally, the effects of the Nirvana not seeming to faze her for the moment. Or maybe they were. Maybe that's what prompted her quiet, malevolent outburst.
"People change." Padma said, a hidden strength, one that seemed oddly familiar, manifesting itself in her green-shot eyes. "I've changed, obviously, or you would not even have bothered to come and insult me. For a long time, I did anything that you asked of me, simply because you were all that I had. But that has changed as well. I am not alone any longer, and I do not need your acerbic attentions, nor do I think you truly wish to know just how I've changed."
"Do not presume to tell me what I wish and do not wish!" Parvati snapped, and Padma's eyes hardened even farther, a crushing weight seeming to fill them as the green in her eyes began to shine.
"Fine. Know this then, sister of mine. A forth bloodline has been thawed, and it shall be the last. The earth beckons and welcomes a Patil once more. It beckons and welcomes me." She said, truth and conviction ringing in every word. Parvati stumbled back a step, her eyes going wide with denial.
"N-No! It...it cannot be!" She stammered, looking at her twin as if she were a stranger.
Instead of verbally replying, Padma laid one hand on the table. It didn't seem that anything had happened at first, and Parvati looked temporarily victorious. But then Padma pulled her hand away and everyone watched silently as twisting, serpentine vines sprouted out of the table's surface and quickly spread the entire length and breadth of it, slipping under plates and goblets without so much as spilling a drop. Parvati appeared terrified for a moment, before something inside her seemed to break. Fury swept across her features and she actually lunged over the table, her hands extended like claws as she went for her twin's throat.
Blaise, Draco, Virginia, Fred and George all made to intercept her, but there was no need. Padma's arm shot out with blinding speed and accomplished what her sister was foolishly attempting. Anton was surprised, for what felt like the millionth time that night, when he saw claws springing from her fingers, digging in almost hard enough to draw blood. Parvati fought back, swinging her arms wildly and kicking out with her feet in a vain effort to loosen her twin's grip. Goblets of wine went flying, stopped from making a complete mess by quick shields that Draco, Blaise and Virginia quickly threw up. But Parvati did get a handful of Padma's right sleeve, which ripped off at the elbow as she flailed around. When it did, Anton nearly fell out of his chair.
Because on Padma's forearm, blazing darkly for all the world to see, was the Mark of Cocidius.
.....