Disclaimer: I do not own any HP character that you do recognize. They're products of JKR's imagination and some other billion dollar establishments. Those that you have never heard of anyhow are fruits of my insomnia. And then of course, we all have G.S. to blame for everything else.

Author's Note: I can't believe G.S. had actually talked me into writing this fic. But then again here it is.

SALAZAR'S HEIRESS

Creator: VermilionAcesInfinity

Part 1: The Gathering

Every single student in the seventh year was beside themselves as they put up the preparations for their very own graduation party. This will be the last gathering they will be attending without the lower levels before they leave Hogwarts for good. Each House has prepared something special to signify their participation in the program. The Ravenclaws were in charge of the difficult wand work required for the decorations and arrangements in the Great Hall. The Hufflepuffs were assigned to perfect the menu and refreshments for the night. The Gryffindors delegated themselves for the entertainment. And that left the Slytherins to facilitate the dances.

Yes, due to their aristocratic upbringing, it would be doubtless that every one of them is skilled in the traditional dances. There had been a few times when practices were held to ensure that every student would get to dance on their last Hogwart's ball. It has also been the last legal laugh the Slytherins were permitted to have. Surely, not everyone was educated in ballroom classes and how very lucky they were to be coached by a bunch of snickering pompous group clad in silver and green.

The actual festivity went on until midnight. The other students, more specifically the Gryffindor airheads had partied for all their worth. The Ravenclaws were seriously huddled in one table, intent on discussing boring careers ahead of them immediately once the traditional dances were over. Unknowing Hufflepuffs were already pissed after a few hours of taking numerous flasks of punch the Slytherins had spiked with Firewhisky. There were a lot of amusing things going on. However, only ten people were sober enough to appreciate them.

Vladimir Bloodcourt approached the table on the far side of the hall, where the rest of the Slytherins were smugly eyeing the embarrassing activities their batch mates are at. "Don't tell me you got Maximus to come in less than…five minutes. Yes? Oh dear, I've always thought he got some stamina…" one of his friends said maliciously as Vlad seated himself at the seat he occupied earlier, before Hufflepuffe's biggest pouf had flashed his bare backside in his range of vision.

"Oh well, he really is drunk. And I got my girlfriend still here. I don't want to get…caught, do I?" a lot more snickering countered his words. Xandra humphed dramatically, rolling her dark brown eyes in exasperation before saying "I really don't know why I keep up with you! You are a bloody bisexual and are readily willing to shag anything in two legs!"

"You don't need to keep up with my escapades Xandy. You and I are betrothed for a reason you know."

The jovial exchange of tirades (and barely concealed insults) had managed to keep the graduating Slytherins sane until the clock announcing midnight had signaled the end of the mundane gathering. Things would have been different hundredfold if it wasn't for the fact that the Last Day of the Term Banquet would be held tomorrow.

Why?

Because tomorrow would be the last time they would be receiving mail by owl during breakfast in the Great Hall. And that mail is going to decide the future of the seventh year students under the House of the Silver Snake. Unlike neither the brainy nerds in blue nor the valiantly reckless Gryffindors who had probably orchestrated their future lives outside Hogwarts through painful hard work, Slytherins would heavily depend on family connections and power trips. The Hufflepuffs would of course have to remain unemployed for a while, losers that they are.

Not one of the ten Slytherins would be sporting hangovers or distractingly aching foots. They knew better than to bash too much on the night before the Invitations would be delivered. And nobody seemed to notice that they were the only ones without an appetite. A few of them were toying with the food on their plates while the others gaze above head every few seconds. Nobody is aware of the rare fidgeting in the Slytherin table, except its Head, Severus Snape.

But the Potions Master has only a shrug to spare. He knew how this old tradition worked. He himself has been in the same position long ago. He vaguely remembered feeling queasy as he waited for a vermilion envelope to drop in his breakfast plate. The Invitation. His future almost resided on that tiny envelope. And with some sad sodden luck somehow, it did. That letter gave him access to a path that had led him to become a Death Eater years later.

Snape gave another involuntary shrug as he tried to rid himself of the past. Of course the assembly that the Invitation would be referring to wouldn't be an initiation for the Dark Lord anymore. That was years ago. It's is a lot simpler now. The graduates would receive an invite (that is if they finished as worthy Slytherins) for a gathering to be held at sundown the day they return from Hogwarts.

It would be no ordinary assembly. For every single Slytherin who had made it well in their own careers, or had become undeniably wealthy and powerful would be present. It would be a blend of reunion for the older people and a job affair for the young ones. Of course there they would meet prospective employers who, because of their pureblood biases would only hire from the Slytherin graduates, who in turn were already well versed with certain values. Well, each pack has got to take care of their cubs. This is simply the Slytherin style.

Nine had Apparated, instead of ten. Consequently, four young men and five ladies were admitted cordially to the Manor. One was moved out, cruelly yet inevitably dismissed. The group is enveloped by a sense of mournful longing. Slytherins as they were, they cared for each other in their own cunningly disguised manners. They were ten when they were sorted to House in the dark brooding dungeons for seven years of Hogwarts education, but now only nine emerged to be sorted yet again, this time into a future worthy of young Slytherin purebloods.

Xandra had a painful lump in her long slender neck but it was an uneasiness she had to ignore. She shook her head to rid her senses of unwelcomed distraction, allowing her straight black hair to fall more freely over her shoulders. She ignored the looks her companions shot at her direction, unwilling to acknowledge if she was being pitied or patronized. Instead, she noticed that they were being led deeper into the Manor's dungeons. When they had reached their destination, the house-elf that had greeted them in the front hall bowed his head deeply and retraced his steps, on his way back to collect more guests.

It was unmistakable that an orchestra was playing a symphony beyond the heavily ornate door, clearly depicting that they were only a few steps from the gathering itself. They stood still for a couple of seconds, regarding the door as if it was powerful enough to swallow them all in. Nobody wanted to reach for the handles, only their leader…no, their former leader, would have been that cheeky.

But he's not here anymore! And we just have to do without him! Xandra exclaimed on her thoughts as she took the initiative to push the doors open. Immediately, they were assaulted by sounds of merrymaking. A few of them, even some guys released the breath they weren't even aware they were holding.

The ceiling was high and adorned with impressive chandeliers. Everywhere, every inch of surface was covered with expensive looking velvet; even the people were clad in luxurious suits. The furniture was regal, matching the jewelries that festooned the already present majority. Almost as soon as the newcomers had reached the middle of the room, grins were already plastered on their faces, replacing the anxious features etched earlier. Certainly it is impossible that anything can rattle them, now that they're actually in. From the ambiance to the music, heck even the smirks displayed on every other face was a dead giveaway. This is a Slytherin party. It's almost identical to the ones regularly held at their common room. They almost snorted at their selves mentally for being so worked up when they have probably spent their entire lives attending festivities like these.

There wore their confidence like second skin and were soon conversing with former schoolmates, upper classmen though. Still, the familiarity was there and getting introductions for the older (and now more powerful) Slytherins were as easy as insulting Mudbloods. They had their share of food and drinks and were pleased to comment that its superb class can only be provided by purebloods like themselves. Ah yes, careful flattery can do wonders. Thank heavens, if their House had trained them for anything, it would be how to get what they want.

When the whole chamber was filled with sudden silence, Xandra was forced to divert her attention to the stylish platform situated a little farther on. A man was perched there with his wand pointed at his throat. He was dressed splendidly in midnight colored robes that allowed his long blonde hair to flash like the sun itself.

"Welcome my fellow Purebloods to the hundred and eleventh Slytherin Call Gathering. Malfoy Manor has garnered enough legacies for a lifetime as it hosts, for the seventh time this prominent function. As a token for this honor, I and the other committee members had arranged a trifle act for tonight's amusement. Now, I feel that I have delayed you all too much from certain satisfaction so…"

Lord Malfoy had dimmed the remaining lights with a flick of his wand and soon the haunting music was filling every crevice of the hall once again. This time however, instead of the orchestra attracting the attention, eyes were trained to a spot near the ceiling where undecipherable objects were being levitated. Some older looking wizards entered the same door where the youngest guests had penetrated an hour or so ago with their wands drawn high above their hands. Xandra, being the brightest witch her age stifled an audible gasp as the scene entering her vision painfully began to make sense.

Shortly there were delightful oohs and ahhs resounding in the crowd as the levitated objects entered the spotlight. Xandra gripped the locket hanging in her neck as though it was a lifeline. It's the only feat she can manage in order to restrain herself from drawing her own wand.

The muggles (she was absolutely adamant to believe that only muggles would be as hopeless in defending themselves from this), two men and a woman dressed in sacks, very much alike to what the house elves were adorned with. There were dark blotches in their clothes that did not seem to be caused by working in the kitchen, well except if they were trying to create a crater in their skin.

They all looked thoroughly abused due to the obvious cuts and bruises but this only gathered more appreciative nods and gestures. Xandra have guessed that there would be something like this but she had been too busy thinking about Vladimir to worry.

The mail had indeed arrived yesterday morning. She had only started munching on her toast when her coal black owl hovered just above her head with one foot sticking out. She shakily untied the knot that held the little envelope in place. When she had freed Fury, the owl had departed but not without taking in her beak her mistress' toast. Frankly, Xandra even wanted to offer the owl an entire loaf just for not prolonging her agony any second longer. She received the Invitation, and her future was safe!

She glanced along the table and made out Morgana's form sobbing uncontrollably on Vladimir's shoulder. There's no surprise there. She wondered if her fiancé would actually do anything just to score a nice warm company in bed. It's his last night at Hogwarts and he seemed driven not to break his record. Xandra could not wait to talk to her parents about breaking her engagement. But then it would have to wait because once she gets home, she has to ready herself for the ball in the evening.

She was almost humming in her meal and didn't notice that her goblet had changed into three different colors already, an apparent evidence of her pleasant mood. It seemed that the other seventh years had gotten their respective invitations already and it had affected the mood of the table immediately. Therefore, she was greatly staggered when she met Vladimir's troubled gaze. Morgana had wiped out her face already and was now verbally abusing one Gryffindor's shabby robes.

Xandra trained her sight to Vladimir again, only to note that he had gotten up from his seat and was strolling purposefully out of the Hall. Clearly, there was something wrong. If everything had been according to what they hoped, Vlad would have hooted jovially earlier with a smug smirk plastered on his handsome features. But that had not been the case. The deviation from the expected worried Xandra to no limit so she excused herself hastily and tried to ignore her bad feelings. She dashed to keep up with Vladimir who had just entered an unused classroom near the end of the corridor.

When Xandra had entered the room, she can barely associate Vladimir Bloodcourt, her fiancé since infancy, to the young man sobbing brokenly whilst clutching the window frame as though its sturdy built would be enough to hold them both straight.

"Vlad, what is this about? You know you can tell me. Was there something wrong with your invitation?"

He stiffened for a second when he heard her approaching, but Xandra's voice had registered he turned his sodden sapphire eyes into her direction and she caught her breath at the sadness she found there. She knew Vladimir since she was old enough to talk and this hopeless seemingly drowning man was not him. Gone was the arrogant self-assured sex crazed bastard that had amused and cared for her to no end. It was disconcerting that such a change can happen and it seemed that a recently crumpled sheet of stationary was to blame.

He didn't protest when Xandra gathered the wrecked boy in her arms and soothingly massaged the tense muscles. Throughout the years, they have managed nothing more than friendship despite their pre-arranged marriage. But it was a beautiful relationship that neither of them would trade it for nothing less. Therefore, she knew deep in her heart that he needed her more crucially than ever. And she was positively sure that Vlad would be wanting a more physical kind of comfort, being the touchy-feely that he was.

They stayed that way far longer than Xandra had expected but was regretless nonetheless. When Vladimir had finally slackened his grip, she cupped his face in her porcelain hands and brushed the remaining tears from the high cheekbones. He drew a shuddering breath before pressing on her palm the mail he had received earlier.

Xandra immediately identified the parchment as an exclusive stationary for there was a family crest stamped right at the top of the parchment. It was the Bloodcourt emblem, signifying that the letter came from a family member. It had to be Vladimir's mother for his father had already died when he was seven. She took a deep breath before she started to read.

My Dearest Son,

I know you are overwhelmed now that it is your last day on Hogwarts. It is with my deepest regret that I cannot make this day any more perfect for you. I wrote to you about a week ago that I had business to attend to with Alexis here in America. Thus I would not be able to welcome you when you get back because we are still here.

I had promised myself that I would keep the reason for our business a secret from you until everything was finalized. But here I am writing to you again, barely able to conceal my happiness.

I was surprised beyond anything else of your calm acceptance of my wedding with Alexis. I know it was pretty sudden but you have to understand, my love that this was something I cannot forgo anymore. I never told you but I know that you knew somehow, that a part of me had died along with your father. It was as if I would never feel complete again.

But then I met Alexis. And it was like a miracle, what had happened to us. It seems like I had wasted my life away before he had found me. At first I was hesitant because I had been in solitude for so long. But when you approved, for me it was like your father had permitted me to have another chance. I can never express my gratitude for your understanding.

It was on our honeymoon when the idea came to me and it had bothered me ever since. I saw how Alexis was such a brilliant man and how great you two are with each other. So one day I asked him about adopting you. It had seemed unbelievable that you have been orphaned from a father at such a young age and yet have grown into such an excellent person. I have found myself a decent man to spend the rest of my remaining years and I wanted you to have a fair share of this blissfulness.

As of the past forty-eight hours, you have ceased to become Vladimir Bloodcourt. For legally speaking, you are now Vladimir Ceyx Carson.

I love you my son. You have been the only light in my life since your father's untimely death. It is only fit that you end those hard days and become a son once again.

You are in my heart always,
Mother

Everything was so clear to her now. She recalled the way Vlad had looked at her a few minutes ago. There was no trace of loathing or rage, just sadness. And at that moment, she too was filled with sorrow. Vladimir made his way to the window, perhaps to resume his quiet observance of the sight he may never get to see again. Xandra folded the parchment neatly and moved to stand behind Vladimir.

"Katharyn was a Ravenclaw. She didn't know the conditions of the Slytherin Call Gathering. She was only thinking of…"

But Vlad had now turned to face her; a mournful smile now palpable on his face. "I understand what you mean Xandy. And you also know that I will never find enough reason to get mad at her. You've been acquainted with Mother since we were young. I'm sure you cannot blame her any more than I could."

She tentatively placed the letter on Vlad's outstretched hand. He straightened his shoulders and appeared to look tall. The gestures were not lost to her. This is typical for Vladimir every time he is about to do things that were difficult for him. He maintained his proud stance as he walked towards the door.

"I'll write to your parents. Now, perhaps it would be easier to talk them into canceling our engagement." And with that, Xandra let a lone tear fall.

A/N: For the people who dislike Own Characters, you will be or have been perhaps displeased to have encountered more than one in this fic. I have two points to defend myself with. Firstly, some of the setting would have been before the actual entrance of Harry in the wizarding world. Therefore, I can only concoct characters that could have lived at that time. Alas, I do not have enough power to Legilimens JKR. Secondly, this fic was created in order to appease the delusions (sorry Gracey), I meant dreams of a good friend of mine. I have allowed her to assume the main char, Xandra, and hopefully could have spared me from getting her a Christmas gift on Dec.

A/N: For those who aren't satisfied with my alibis, feel free to murder me whilst I come up with more dimwitted ones. Or rather, you could be kind. REVIEW.

o0 ja ne dewberry.