Uriel Belle's hand shook as she looked down at the letter she was holding. The paper was a pristine ivory parchment with an elegant M on the top. The writing long and crisp, perfectly legible to anyone who could read. But the words that the letter held, those...those are what made her delicate hand shake so.
"Surely, Jensen, you can't be serious? Not her. We can't give him Tabitha," she said, trying to keep her voice strong and unwavering but it was breaking down despite her attempts. Her sea-foam green eyes roamed over to her husband, a tall man with black hair cut into the normal American business cut. He stood with his hands behind his back, staring out the window at his four daughters, his handsome features drawn tight in concern. All of his daughters, the youngest being only 12, had stark black hair like himself, except for the eldest, Tabitha, at 25, who had the dark blonde hair of her mother. He was reminded of the other factor in her birth that they had kept hidden for years.
Tabitha was the eldest and the second most striking, next only to the second eldest, Victoria. Her features were decidedly more of her mother's; the laughing sea-foam eyes, the long, wild burnished curls and the constantly smiling mouth. And as she sat outside with her sisters, the smile was there but the twin of the smile that was in the room with him was nowhere in sight.
"I've tried to negotiate with him, Uriel," he said, his voice quiet with the sadness and worry that clawed at him, "But there is no negotiating with the Malfoys. You know this as well as I. We've been lucky to not have to hear from them since we moved to America all those years ago. We've been lucky not to hear from any of the other pure-blood families."
Jensen moved from the window with a sigh, his fingers rubbing softly at his forehead as he knelt in front of his wife, taking her small hands in his and feeling the overwhelming love for her that he always felt. His blue eyes looked up into her own, full of love.
"I tried, darling, I did. I told him Victoria was only a year younger than Tabitha, that she was more beautiful and would gladly accept an arranged marriage to a pure-blood family as powerful as the Malfoys whether their name was slightly stained by Death Eaters or not but he wouldn't hear it! He demanded the eldest because of his own age," he said quietly, fighting back the sting behind his eyes.
"But what about the Mistake, Jensen?! If he found out that she was-"
"He won't find out! The only ones that know are ourselves and Tabitha and she wouldn't tell a soul. She wouldn't do anything that she knew would hurt you, sweetheart. And as far as I care to think, it never happened, alright? Malfoy doesn't ever have to know," he soothed her, stroking his pale hand through her hair.
Uriel was crying. Tabitha was her baby, the only one of the girls that was like her. Wild and unruly but always knowing when it was time to stop and when it was time to fight, she'd shown the most reluctance when they told the girls that arranged marriages were in all their futures but she excepted it like a soldier, her cheerful face in a grim setting.
Mrs. Belle had always hoped that the others girls would get married and Tabitha would be able to run free and wild like the wind spirits she always talked about, and when Jensen had informed her that one of the most powerful pure-blood families had come calling on their American equals for a bride, she knew somewhere deep inside her that her angel was leaving her.
They'd yet to tell Tabitha but the girls had known for days that something was going on. From the moment their father had gotten a letter from that strange owl and they saw the color drain from his face, they knew. However, the only ones who were actually concerned were Tabitha and Victoria who had begun to talk about it in private at night before falling asleep.
But now, as she sat in the shade of the willow tree in their backyard, the back of Tabitha's neck prickled, forcing her to rub her hand over it as a sudden feeling of dread filled her stomach. She looked up, her eyes finding Victoria's and holding them for a moment before their father stepped out into the backyard and called to the girls, motioning for them to come back inside the house for a few moments.
An ocean away, in his study, Lucius Malfoy sat at his desk signing the usual business papers. Over the past two years since the War ended, Lucius had struggled to keep the Malfoy name afloat. The beginning had been hard and after the first year, Narcissa had left him, taking with her half of what he had managed to pull back into the family vaults.
The divorce had taken him by surprise, but it was his pride that took the hit more than it was his emotions. His marriage had been on the rocks since he'd failed the Dark Lord and thus thrown their son into the man's hands. Narcissa had hated him for it. Hated him for the constant worry, the constant pain and stress their son had to go through at the Dark Lord's hands. And she'd seen it as all his fault. They could have fled when they knew he'd returned, she argued, but he wouldn't let them, wouldn't let them dirty his precious name and pride.
Lucius had had a change of heart towards the end of the war, only wanting his son to come out of it alive but the damage to his and Narcissa's relationship was already done. The marriage that had been so preciously arranged was terminated.
In the beginning of the divorce, there had been a flood of media and woman from other, lesser, pure-blood families that had thrown themselves at him, hungry for the respect and power that came from the name Malfoy. But Lucius wasn't in the best shape at that moment and, in his anger and embarrassment, had politely told the women and reporters where exactly he thought they should go and how to get there.
Now, a year after the divorce, a year of careful decisions to build up the fortune and fame the Malfoys once had, Lucius was once again forced to admit that being inside Malfoy Manor by himself, his son and Narcissa now gone, was strange. Desolate. Lonely.
So, just last month, he'd decided. He was still in his prime and to stay single and pure-blood was unheard of. After many hours of research, he found a family just as prestigious and high-ranking as the Malfoys. The American pure-blood wizarding family known as Belle. Upon further research he'd found the head of the family to be one Jensen Belle. The name sounded familiar to Lucius and, as he thought about it, he seemed to remember a man by that name in his years in Hogwarts. He was tall and regal and held himself apart from the rest of the crowds, too shy for friends and already promised to another pure-blood family. His pitch hair had been short and his blue eyes sharp.
Lucius never had a problem with the man and he saw no problem with sending a letter requesting the hand of one of his daughters. After all, it was an unspoken agreement among the powerful pure-blood families that they give their daughters for good matches to strengthen the families. So, with this is mind, he was shock to discover that the reply he'd gotten in return was that of Mr. Belle offering up the second oldest daughter. This, having been an insult to Lucius, only pushed him to refuse it. He vehemently refused to be tied to anyone but the oldest, the one that held the most power of the girls.
For over a week the two refused one another until finally Jensen gave in. Now, Lucius sat in his study, glancing up at the clock for the fifth time. Two hours, he still had two hours before he had to go to Diagon alley to pick her up. Instead of taking the train or a plane, Jensen had insisted letting Tabitha, Lucius' bride-to-be, take the Floo.
The platinum-haired man sat back in his chair, closing his eyes and letting his mind wander. He wasn't sure what his bride would look like but both Jensen and his wife were rather attractive people so it was only natural for Lucius to assume she was to be beautiful as well. Jensen had mentioned in the letters that another reason for him to pick Victoria over Tabitha was because Tabitha was known to have the same wild-streak her mother had had. After Lucius said he would have none other than the oldest, Mr. Belle had felt the need to caution Lucius that it would be better to embrace the spirit of the girl for, as her father could see, there was no way to calm it or break it and who would want to do that anyway?
Well, Lucius would. He needed a Lady Malfoy, not a wild dragon-girl. Of course, he wouldn't raise a hand to her but would find other ways to calm a girl.
His mind went, as it always did, to the age difference. He had chosen a woman of her age because she was also in her prime. If Lucius fancied it, they would be able to produce another heir to the Malfoy fortune since Draco had obviously sided with his mother and decided that they would no longer need Lucius seeing as Narcissa had her own fortune from her family.
Swiveling his chair around, Lucius looked out at the light gray sky and the light but persistent sheet of rain that was falling. In two hours, he'd meet his betrothed. He knew how to spot her though, for she would be wearing her mother's green coat. Or so Jensen had said.
"'Cuse me!" a large man bellowed, nearly plowing the small blond over. Tabitha let out a laugh and latched on to the wall nearest her as the man gave a smile and hurried past, towering over the rest of the crowd, his hair a long bushy mass of brown.
The lone woman smiled, looking around at the rush of people on the street. She'd arrived and hour early so that she might be able to look around before being carted away to some mansion in the hills. She knew very little about the man that she was marrying. She knew his name: Lucius Malfoy.
The name itself made her shiver slightly. It had a dark, slippery ring too it; a foreboding feeling that seemed to slip around her in a silky but hard as steel grip. She didn't like it. Not one bit.
She was also told that he had long, nearly white hair and gray eyes. She knew he was a man in his forties. He had only one child. Her father had told her that in any crowd, Lucius Malfoy would stand out.
Tabitha was born in America and knew no one in Britain so she had no way of researching him a bit before coming here. Her large ivory trunk floated behind her as she continued down the alley.
She spotted a bookstore, Flourish and Blotts, only a second before pain exploded in her eye socket.
"Jesus," she gasped, looking up from her newly acquired seat on the ground.
Xenophilius Lovegood was walking with no real sense of direction, his light eyes roaming over the shop windows as he walked. Since she'd moved out to pursue the life every young person wants after they finish school, Xeno had spent a lot of his time here of roaming the banks of the stream behind his house.
The Quibbler editor was in town this day to pick himself up a new pair of socks. These weren't just any socks though. No, the kept the Frost Mites for latching to your skin and freezing it. He'd ordered them three days ago and was now there to take his treasure home.
He was rounding a corner when he lifted his arms to stretch, trying to get rid of the stiff feeling in his arm, when his elbow was hit, causing him to punch himself in the face.
"Ach!" the blonde cried as he stumbled back against the concrete wall of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
"You punched me in the eye!" came a cry from the ground. Nearly flailing, Xenophilius turned about. Looking down at the accusing voice. Seated on the ground in front of him in a sea-foam green coat was a ghost of his past. The wild gold hair, the light green eyes...he took a step back. It couldn't be her. It's impossible. A flood of relief and disappointment filled him as she lowered her hand and revealed her face.
She had the hair and eye color of his deceased wife but the young woman's facial proportions where not the same as Claudia's. He shook his head in an aggressive manner before holding his hand out to her.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't see you. I was on my way to pick up something and I guess I wasn't paying attention in my excitement," Xeno stuttered, pulling the young woman to her feet.
Tabitha's mouth dropped open. The man in front of her was her betrothed! Lucius Malfoy! He had to be. He had the long, platinum hair, the light eyes, the ability to stand out in the crowd (no one could miss that bright yellow cloak and the rather odd clothing), mid-forties AND he was coming to pick up something!
She was a little angry that he'd described her as a "thing" instead of his betrothed but she held her tongue. As she looked at him, she noticed that he was good-looking but in a different, odd, way. She placed her hand back over her eye and let him help her up.
Lucius fidgeted and reached into his lemon-yellow robe, pulling out his wand and gently moving her hand away.
"Here, dear, look at me. I can fix that in a jiffy," he said softly, his voice carrying a light Scottish, maybe Irish, accent. Tabitha lowered her hand reluctantly and closed her eyes as he voiced the spell.
"I didn't think you would be coming to pick me up for another half an hour or so," she said as a warmth spread over her face. Lucius stayed silent.
"I mean," she started again as she opened her newly healed eye and looked up into his face, "It's OK that you came early but I was hoping to do a little shopping before hand. Would you like to join me?" Her words were rushed but she was nervous so she didn't notice.
Lucius looked at her for a moment, his gray eyes wide before nodding.
"Um...s-sure. Where shall we go first?" He asked, not knowing whether to offer his arm or not. This woman was supposed to be picked up by him? Surely he wouldn't forget something like that...would he?
"The Wrackspurts must have made me forget to pick you up," he said suddenly, smiling down at her.
Tabitha took his arm a little reluctantly, forcing herself to admit it could be a lot worse. He only seems a little off in the head but weren't many off the pure bloods like that? Her sister seemed to be from another century at times.
"Yes, the Wrackspurts... As for the shop, I was heading to that bookstore before you bashed me in the face," she replied, a wry smile on her face. Lucius flushed and returned the smile shyly, unsure how to respond.
Tabitha thought he looked quite adorable with a flush to his face, despite all the yellow that surrounded him. She realized that they were getting several strange looks from the people they passed. Lucius Malfoy drew attention everywhere he went! She felt a little self-conscious, walking with such a watched man and was pondering if she should take her hand off his arm when she noticed the crowd part.
Slipping through the crowd at a quick pace was a tall figure in all black, his platinum hair pushed back from his forehead in a smooth sweep. A glint of silver caught her eye and she noticed the snake-headed cane he was holding.
Handsome in a cold way, he instantly inspired wariness and submission in people so it was only natural for typically rebellious Tabitha to stand her ground beside Lucius who seemed to be unaffected completely except for the slight darkened look to his features.
The man came to stand in front of them, the other shoppers deeming it in their best interest to avoid the scenario and keep on with their business. Neither man spoke for a long moment before Tabitha piped up.
"May we help you? Is there something you wish to discuss with my fiancé?" she asked politely, feeling the tangible power that seemed to roll off this man. It frightened her slightly. He was too intense; too dangerous.
The man snorted, but did not look at her.
"Lovegood, would you please explain to me why you are walking arm-in-arm with my betrothed?" the man asked, his voice low and smooth and cold. Tabitha stood still for a moment before shaking her head. Lovegood?
"No, no, you're wrong," she said before Lucius could answer, "This is Lucius Malfoy. I'm afraid you have the wrong man, sir."
The man looked at her now, those ice-gray eyes feeling like a crisp cold wind down her back.
"My dear, I am Lucius Malfoy. The man you're holding onto is Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of a magazine of complete rubbish and nonsense," the new Lucius replied. Tabitha's eyes grew big as she looked between the two. They could pass as brothers but couldn't be more different. It was like the sun meeting the moon.
"You-You're not Lucius Malfoy?" She asked the man she had assumed to be her betrothed. He shook his head almost violently and looked insulted.
"Heavens no! I would rather jump in front of traffic then be called a Malfoy," he spat, glaring at the other man. "My name is Xenophilius, like he stated, but the Quibbler is not rubbish! It is filled with insightful facts on how to protect yourself from uncommon magical creatures and objects!" He now had his chest puffed out in pride and one finger held in the air.
Lucius looked as if he would rather be anywhere but here, talking to this obviously cracked-in-the-head man.
"You may be pure-blood, Lovegood, but you would never deserve the Malfoy name," Lucius replied before reaching out and taking Tabitha's arm in his leather-clad hand.
"Now, Ms. Belle, if you would, I would like to escort you to your new home," the New Lucius stated, steering her away from Xeno.
"I can walk by myself, you know," she grumbled, yanking her arm from him and straightening her long coat. She turned to Xeno and smiled.
"It was lovely meeting you and thank you for not embarrassing me by revealing my mistake. Although, if it were my choice, I'd gladly stay your betrothed," she said before Lucius forced her to turn around and away from the smiling Xeno.
She could already tell this was not going to be easy.
The blonde pure-blood watched the green flames dance up around him and within seconds, he was inside his living room at the mansion. Standing in front of him was the woman to whom he was going to be wed, her hair tumbling down over her green velvet coat.
Lucius offer and smiled as he waved the house elves towards her trunk, the small creatures instantly taking it to her room.
"Do you like it? My family personally designed most of the rooms in the manor," he said, his voice its usual low purr as he circled around Tabitha, reminding her of an arctic wolf, circling in on its prey. She kept her back straight and her head high as she looked around.
"It's alright. A little too dark for my tastes," she said as she moved to the windows and, with a flick of her rosewood wand, threw open the curtains, bathing the room in sunlight that danced off the dark marble and silver.
There was a loud growl before the curtains snapped shut. Lucius was on her in a second.
"Let me be the first to remind you, Ms. Belle, that you are my betrothed. That stint you pulled back there? In Diagon Alley with Lovegood? Those disgusting words about how you'd rather be with him? You will never, ever, speak them again. Do you hear me?" He demanded, his voice low and dangerous as he grasped her arm. The hold didn't hurt but it sure held the promise of potential pain if she were to disobey.
Tabitha, eyes wide in shock, for she had never seen a man act like this to their future paramour, just looked at him for a moment before trying to pull away.
"Let go!" She demanded, struggling against his grip but failing to get away. Instead, the man, Lucius, yanked her against his chest and grinned wickedly down at her.
"You're afraid, aren't you? Don't be, I won't strike you. I will, however, strike Lovegood should you ever seek him out again, do you understand me?" he said coolly, refusing to acknowledge her demand. She struggled still, her green eyes on fire with anger and, as he said, a slight fear.
"You act as if I'm some harlot ready to jump into his bed," she hissed, "I don't know about what the woman you hang around do but I do not lay down for random men, or any man, for that matter. Now. Let. Me. Go."
Lucius lowered his face until it was right next to hers, his silver-gray eyes looking straight into her soft green ones, a threatening sheet of ice looming over a fresh spring grass. He simply stayed there as she froze, her body seeming to lock as she watched him, wondering what he was going to do. Surely he wouldn't kiss her! They'd only just met!
"Say please," was the only thing he said, not moving from his place in front of her face. Struggling to find her voice, Tabitha cleared her throat and set her face in a grim expression.
"Please let go of me," she said quietly and, like magic, his hand and face were gone. He smiled at her though, as he stepped over to a coat rack and slipped off his voluminous cloak. Beneath it he wore black suit pants and a white vest over a black linen shirt, the sleeves loose around his gloved hands, which he promptly made bare. Overall, he was a very attractive man but the rebellious monster inside Tabitha's chest wanted to tell him he had a face only a mother could love.
Lie, Tabitha's mind stated in a matter-of-fact voice that strangely reminded her of her sister. She ignored it and focused on not touching him as he came over to take her coat. She let him but as soon as it was off, she headed for the stairs. Lucius watched her with an intrigued expression on his cold features. "I expect you to be done for dinner," he called after her as she ascended the stairs, following a house elf that had come down to direct her to her room. "I wouldn't hold my breath on that thought if I were you," she said stiffly, not looking back as she disappeared onto the second floor.
At six in the evening, Lucius sat down at the large dining table and waited for Tabitha to join in the rose-pink gown he had sent up to her.
At nine-thirty, she still made no appearance and a furious Lucius shoved his plate off the table, the precious crystal shattering on the floor, and retired angrily to his rooms. As he passed Tabitha's room, he pounded loudly against the wooden door, only once. "You can either dine with me, or not dine at all. And I don't think you're dumb enough to starve yourself," he said simply before heading off without waiting for a reply.
Tabitha's stomach growled loudly the next morning, causing her to wake. She'd slept fitfully, her body refusing to sleep peacefully without any food. Her mouth was dry and had a strange taste to it. As she opened her eyes and looked out the window, she noticed the sky was still in the stages of early dawn, her surroundings still bathed in a inky-purple darkness.
She got up quietly, her hair in wild tangles about her face, her long sleeveless silk nightgown wrinkled and in disarray. She paid no attention to it, like always, and headed to the do, pulling it open quietly and peeked out.
The hall was dark and foreboding looking. The windows along it that overlooked the back yard and garden were opened and the heavy drapes stirred restlessly as the lace curtains blew out across the hallway with each gust of autumn wind.
Tabitha's eyes were wide as she watched the shadows dance across the hallway. The breeze that floated through the windows and into the home was laced with the scent of cedar smoke and, as she smoothed her Victorian sleeping gown, she couldn't resist a smothered laugh at how much this reminded her of an old horror movie, villain with silver tongues and monsters of your nightmares lurking around every corner.
Caught up in her fantasy of ghosts and ghoul, she made her way down the hallway and peeked down the stairwell. The bottom was even darker than the top of the landing. She shivered, glancing around as her white sleeping gown flowed around her feet, and made her way down the stairwell.