"They say you're insane."
He silently watched as a chuckle escaped her, the brilliance of her pale emerald and gold speckled eyes glimmering against the sunlight. Perhaps the rumors had held some truths after all he mused, if her slightly maniacal laughter and grin were any indicator. She was different from the other "purebloods". Her charming silver locks gleaming in the afternoon sunlight as she sat upon the balcony, her barefoot playfully hanging over the edge, unbefitting etiquette for a lady of status, even one that had barely sprouted. As aversed as he was to concede to the thought, she was unique. A rare creature of magic.
"They say a lot of things about me. You would be surprised, Tom."
Eyes sharpening, a scowl plastered itself on his face as the exotic scent of lillies attacked his nose, intoxicating him despite his stubborn resistance. Immediately, an immense distaste for her grew at the familiarity of which she addressed him. Within the depths of his memories, Tom Marvolo Riddle remembered there once had been a time when he enjoyed the fleeting nostalgia of maternal whispers that uttered his name with similar warmth and gentleness. With the passing of the years, they'd become mere memories, and with time, Tom Riddle had learned to discard them, locked away where they would never see the light again.
After all, Tom Riddle knew best that there was no place for trifling emotions next to his ambitions. Emotions...feelings...just the mere thought of them made him shudder, disdain for the mother who'd fallen prey to them engulfing his mind. Soon however, Tom Riddle reminded himself, if only he slowly abided his time, soon the wretched emotions that swirled and ate away at his heart would disintegrate, banished, and turned to dust.
"I've heard a lot about you too, Tom. However, that is not what you are here for is it? Tell me, what have you and my dearest brother been up to?"
Her voice was a low humming, like that of a melody, tragic yet beautiful...enchanting even as Tom Riddle found himself enthralled, though if asked, he would never confess, was too stubborn to admit the attraction he felt towards a...child. It was something about the way she moved, her every gesture remembrance of a graceful swan, regal and yet undecipherable because despite the warmth that she seemed to radiate, beneath it all, Tom Riddle saw something dark, empty, and familiar...something he knew all too well.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Why don't you ask your dear brother yourself?"
"Oh, but that would defeat the entire purpose of asking you Tom. You really ought to learn how to read a woman's mind. You're making this quite challenging."
Tom Riddle found himself irked by the teasing smile that graced her lips and suddenly, it dawned on him what she'd been attempting to do. A chill ran down his back at the prospect of Cordelia Malfoy being interested in someone, let alone romantically. It would be beneficial to his cause he mused, however, Tom Riddle knew, Cordelia Malfoy was unrestrained, too unpredictable, and her allegiance questionable, if the fact that she was the Malfoy heiress and not Abraxas, the elder Malfoy, was any indicator.
"Well then, it seems dearest brother has arrived," following her gaze, Tom Riddle severed his thought process, releasing the breathe he didn't know he had been holding in as he spotted an ever familiar platinum haired Abraxas slowly striding down the hall. How she had known without turning around would forever remain a mystery to him.
"You are late, my dearest brother."
Indifferent, Abraxas Malfoy curtly nodded his head in apology and instantly, Tom Riddle mused at the displeasure that flashed through her eyes. She did entertain him so.
"Do you see, Tom? This is why slytherins are so insufferable. Could you not be ever more so sincere, Abraxas?"
"Had you not spurred mother to invite Rosier to bore me with her talks, I would have been here already dear sister. I have no time to spend on furthering a relationship that will not garner benefits, Cordelia...I doubt we will be seeing eachother again. Rosier has expressed her disinterest in strengthening the bonds between our houses. Do not do such foolish things again. It will tarnish the Malfoy name."
Bemused by the antics of the Malfoy siblings, Tom Riddle silently observed from the side as Cordelia Malfoy held a scowl on her lips while Abraxas, ever so stoned face, retained his calm facade. It seemed, Tom Riddle mused, the Rosier girl had switched targets after all despite her eight year long courtship of the eldest Malfoy. He still remembered the Rosier girl proclaiming it as love at first sight and Abraxas Malfoy seeming half-interested. How times had changed. How brittle youth was.
But then again, fate did not favor the union and never would. That, Tom Riddle was quite sure of.
"Oh Abraxas, my brother. Despite how much I love you, you can be so dense sometimes, no wonder you're friends with Tom here."
Entirely engaged in the direction of the Malfoy sibling's conversation now, Tom Riddle glanced towards Cordelia Malfoy just in time to catch the disdain in her eyes that seemed to look down upon Abraxas, or rather the entire race of slytherin men. Not agreeing to her words however, Tom Riddle continued challenging her gaze, irked by the prospect of being belittled by a woman despite the fact that Cordelia was not just anyone, she was a Malfoy. The only Malfoy princess.
"Do I really have to spell it out for you dear brother? Druella got engaged. Her engagement to Cygnus Black was finalized last month if you hadn't known. She came to say goodbye. I suppose Druella will be married immediately after she leaves Hogwarts and by then, the wedding preparations will have been finalized and the invitations sent out."
"And pray tell, what that has to do with me? An alliance between House Rosier and House Malfoy would not be beneficial. She knew that when benefits could not be earned with a Malfoy, she had to move onto a Black. It seems quite reasonable to me."
At that single moment in time, Cordelia Malfoy could not help but lament. Indeed, Slytherin boys were the most insufferable gits to exist on the face of wizarding Britain. Had they no sense of romance at all? Even Gryffindor goofballs had more romanticism in them. She should know best, an acquaintance of hers was currently engaged to one. Cordelia sadly regretted, having denied being introduced to his cousin. Perhaps the boy would have brought some flavor into her life.
"For merlin's sake! The poor girl was in love with you. For one who boasts his intelligence and cunning, could you not even see through a single girl's heart? You will live to regret this day brother. What has been loss will never again return. You had all the time in the world and you have decided to give it away because you are afraid. A Malfoy does not fear, Abraxas, but you have. "
No longer amused, Cordelia Malfoy agilely jumped off the balcony, ready to leave as she took a last glance at her brother's expressionless face. Confirming that her words had done nothing at all to ripple his heart, Cordelia narrowed her eyes and left, vanishing into the field of roses below the balcony as if she had been a mirage of the summer heat.
Tom Riddle did not forget to note her lingering scent, the smell of the ocean and lilies.
"You were fond of her."
The comment had been a statement of fact and nothing more. Leaning against the wall, Tom allowed the tips of his lips to form a mischievous smile as he ignored the confused and inquiring gaze of one Abraxas Malfoy. He did enjoy so, the feeling of superiority that overcame him at having the upperhand despite the elder Malfoy's claim of mutual 'friendship'. Even now, Tom still wondered how two Slytherins could have any such bond as 'friends' shared between them. While the equality suggested by the word was distasteful, Tom found himself not minding the silent companionship...that was...if the elder Malfoy knew his place.
"Don't tell me you are going to start on this topic too, Riddle."
Ever so indifferent, Abraxas Malfoy began towards the balcony, overlooking the field of roses as he allowed the afternoon sunlight to illuminate his face. Finding the enamoring scent of the roses distasteful, however, he turned back. It seemed, mused Abraxas Malfoy, he would have to rid himself of them at a later date despite the possibility of inciting his mother's ire, he was after all, her only son. She would not be able to remain angry long.
"Oh, but I believe your sister has a point. Loyalty is hard to find. The union would have guaranteed House Rosier's much desired loyalty in these times of...immense instability. In these dark times of the darklord's reign, the houses should remain united don't you think so, Malfoy?"
Abraxas Malfoy let out a low chuckle. Feeling the smooth curves of his wand, Abraxas took a final glance at Tom before turning. His eyes hardening as he did so. In the end, Abraxas knew that these fleeting feelings would disappear with the passage of time. Perhaps there would be some losses, a few pained heartaches, and the lingering memories but even they someday would disintegrate and vanish.
...What Abraxas Malfoy didn't know...what would be his only miscalculation... was the phantom of eternal regret of having let her go.
At the moment, however, to the two young men, nothing was as precious as their ambitions. Such was the folly of youth.
"Do not tell me you believe in such a naive thing, Riddle. Loyalty is fragile. So easily earned and so easily lost…. so brittle...The Rosier girl would do best off. The ambitions of House Malfoy have no room for naive children."
"So you admit you are fond of the Rosier child? To push her off so far…"
Tom shut his eyes, a smirk still playing on his face as his voice faded, becoming almost inaudible so that only Abraxas could hear. The word naive continuously ringing in his head, Tom chuckled, following the elder Malfoy as they both left the hallway into the privacy of a much more discreet location. What they would discuss after all, were not meant for prying ears.
"How do you feel, Cordelia?"
Resting within the comforts of her bed, Cordelia grimaced as she glanced at her mother's pale hands, radiating of warmth and comfort. Taking her mother's palm into her own, Cordelia smiled comfortingly as if to assure the elder woman that she was fine. The ringing in her head, however, continued to blare off as she resisted the urge to hurl out whatever was left of her breakfast.
"I am not so weak, mother. I merely overworked myself." When had these days of bed sitting began? Back then, they had been less frequent, more random than not. Random they still were, but less frequent they were not. Her muscles felt weak, her eyes heavy. Soon, Cordelia wondered if she would forget how to breathe altogether.
A wistful smile overcame Lucia Malfoy as she gazed lovingly at her daughter, her grasp on Cordelia's hand tightening unconsciously as she tried to maintain her calm facade. When she could no longer, Lucia Malfoy turned as if to search for something and discretely wiped away her tears. Eyes dimming ever so slightly, Cordelia traced her mother's exhausted frame. Over the years, Cordelia noted, her mother's lustrous chocolate locks had greyed and the wrinkles surrounding her eyes and forehead had become more prominent. Her smile was no longer as radiant and as if life itself had been sucked out of her, Lucia Malfoy no longer enjoyed adorning her fanciful silk robes of exotic colors but instead, wore robes of faded tints and simplicity. As if she had been non-existent, Lucia Malfoy's presence itself had all but vanished from pureblood society and Cordelia knew that she was the cause behind it all. No matter how Cordelia tried to ease her mother, Lucia Malfoy could not help but fret even more, guilt-ridden and so ever frightful of even the smallest wound that could make its way onto Cordelia's body.
It's not your fault. Never yours. Do not blame yourself, Cordelia. It was never your sins yet your duty it is to see it through. Blame thy blood but never thyself.
Cordelia wistfully remembered her father's last words to her after her sudden withdrawal from hogwarts. Her condition had gotten worse despite the precautions that had been taken to ensure she graduate safely. Lady fate was determined to oppose her.
"Yes, you must have overworked yourself. Would you like me to call a healer, Cordelia?"
Absentmindedly, Lucia Malfoy turned around as if she had given up on whatever she had been trying to find, something of which a simple accio would have solved. Nevertheless, Cordelia refrained from making that remark; If her mother desired her to play the blind fool, she would. It was, after all, the only thing she seemed capable of doing anymore.
"It is fine, a little rest will suffice mother. I'm afraid I will have to bother you again however. Druella will be disappointed but send her my regard and blessings... I hear the child was a girl. She must be quite the darling."
A soft smile appeared on Lucia Malfoy's face as she smoothed Cordelia's hair back and gently placed a kiss on her forehead. Cold skin instantly warmed, the lingering warmth of her mother's lips felt like a burning flame, intense and yet gentle like the summer sunshine. Greatly comforted by her mother's presence, Cordelia closed her eyes, slowly slipping into a deep slumber. A slumber that always seemed to call for her.
"Wake up soon, Cordelia."
...She wondered if she would this time.
Silently holding a warm porcelain rose patterned cup of tea tightly in her palms as if whatever little warmth it gave off would chase the haunting coldness of her body away, Cordelia was at a loss for words as she waited for the man before her to announce his business. Seeming to be content with the silence however, the man merely glanced down at the book in his hands, continuing to read quietly as if her confoundment was of little importance.
It had been a long time since she last saw him. They had not met since he left Hogwarts. Gone was the last of what seemed to be his innocence, replaced by something much darker and more sinister. His entire being radiated of ancient magic. Nevertheless, she found his eyes alluring, almost as if they had a mind of their own. Where she used to so easily slip through the locks in his mind and glimpse at his darkest secrets, she now saw nothing but an obscure wall of iron. So instead, she took to reading his body language.
Curled around his thumb, a dark stone ring carefully rested. Once in awhile, she would note the almost affectionate manner in which he stroked the ring. He did not strike her as someone who enjoyed wearing jewelry, however minimal. Only this ring, ever since Hogwarts, he had taken to keeping near. Had he gotten it from a lover? Or was it a keepsake? A family heirloom? Cordelia refrained from inquiring. She knew it was not her place nor did she have the energy.
"What are you doing here, Tom?"
Silence once again filled the room as Tom Riddle merely glanced up from his book and observed her for a brief moment. Before long, he once again returned his attention to his book. At a closer inspection, Cordelia wondered if it had been a journal or diary of some sort. The sudden wave of drowsiness prevented Cordelia from thinking upon the subject further. Sleep was claiming her again. Already, she could hear the enchanting voice of the siren, of the chilling melody that haunted her dreams.
"I think you should go now."
Her voice came out soft and almost inaudible. Through her barely opened eyes, Cordelia watched as Tom Riddle closed his book and exited her room only to stop and turn around. With long strides, he made his way to her bed and stopped, tall stature towering over her body as his dark eyes curiously reflected her frail complexion in them. Of all people, she had wanted to reveal her weakness to him the least.
But the sleep triumphed over her. Losing the last of her strength, Cordelia could only relent and close her heavy eyes. The last thing she saw as she fell into oblivion was his handsome face and red lips, his whispers inaudible amidst the siren's lulling.
All Cordelia seemed capable of hearing anymore was the siren.
...In the background, unbeknownst to Cordelia, Abraxas had concealed himself, painfully turned from his sister and friend, Unable to bear the guilt of seeing his proud sister bedstricken. He could feel her vitality draining, magic slowly seeping. Cordelia was losing her magic, her gift. Yet ironically, the very same magic that had doomed the Malfoy females to their fate for centuries was the sole thing keeping her alive, safeguarding her as it weaved into the surrounding wards and changed their nature. She would live, yet Abraxas was not sure what was worse. This damned curse or death.
Abraxas felt helpless, only allowed to watch as duty once again triumphed over everything else. Even Cordelia. His sweet Cordelia with all her slyness and regality.
Then, fury and anger replaced the sadness swimming in his steel grey eyes. Smoothing his hair back, Abraxas pursed his lips into a thin line and left the room, never looking back. It was the mudblood's fault, he resolved. Repeatedly, Abraxas convinced himself. It was always the mudblood's fault.
The pleasant aroma of spring had withered into the cold scent of winter when Cordelia woke from her slumber. Half asleep, she made out the unfamiliar outline of the room. At the far side, a fire had been lit in the fireplace, emitting a faint orange glow as it warmed her chambers yet seemed to avoid her cold body as if it was a plague. Next to the fireplace, a white armchair had been displaced, an open book peacefully lying on its lap. Slowly, Cordelia realized that the unfamiliar room was her bedroom, one that had become a stranger to her.
Draping the white sheets of her bed around her shoulders, Cordelia made her way to the frosted glass windows. Down below, the rose garden she so adored had been replaced by willows, uncommonly green despite the season. She suspected they would remain so, unless their owner, whom Cordelia suspected was Abraxas, demanded otherwise. He never did enjoyed the rose garden as she did. Of course, she had grown them to irk him.
It was dark outside. In the isolated stillness that was Malfoy manor, few stars shined in the sky as a full moon illuminated the night. Cordelia smiled. To the west, the lake had frozen into a winter wonderland as faint fairy lights pranced and night wind howled a low tune. Soone, Cordelia loss herself to the sight and time became irrelevant as she watched the snow fall and pile up.
"Cordelia."
At the fireplace, the rare yet rather amusing sight of a disheveled and breathless Abraxas Malfoy greeted Cordelia. By his side, a familiar face clung to his shadows, the faint odor of a milk the only indication of her presence. At a closer look, Cordelia could tell the two had just gotten up from bed, still fully draped in sleeping robes. An unfamiliar sight amidst familiar faces.
"Abraxas...you have aged brother."
"And you have not changed at all, Cordelia."
A chuckle escaped Abraxas' lips, his steely eyes warming as he made his way to her. Malfoys had quite the limited range for showing love after all, mused Cordelia. She did not expect a grand display of affection.
"Tell me brother, how long have I been asleep?"
"A long time. I have news. Mother is dead."
Abraxas Malfoy proved yet again somethings would never change; as always, he remained a man of little tact. His words straightforward and blunt without needing to dally nor consider the opposing side's feelings. But then, the facade of pureblood authority and charisma was reserved for the public and not family whom were more precious. That, Cordelia could attest had been deeply instilled into the Malfoy progeny by the late lady Malfoy. Malfoys did not withhold information from each other, especially one that could leave the family conflicted.
Cordelia's lips contorted into a bitter smile, and her eyes slowly lost their shine. But her grief was fleeting. There was no surprise, but an eerie calmness on Cordelia's face as she nodded in understanding. The Malfoy ring upon her brother's finger had been all she needed to confirm what had happened during her missing...months?...year?...years?...Cordelia did not know. Time did not seem of relevance anymore when she had slept through a good majority of it.
"What of father?"
"He lasted two months. She always was his anchor."
Cordelia could hear the bitterness in her brother's amused voice as she took in the news. They were...had...been a happy family. Despite what the world saw, her parents had indeed been in love and respected one another. It was the gradual kind of love that neither had expected of an arranged marriage, but it had sprouted and taken flight despite the odds. Now, Cordelia guessed they truly were the only Malfoys left. Before long, she lamented, there would only be two.
Throughout the years, the line had dwindled without any new Malfoy offspring to replace the old. Slowly but surely, the line was dying and Cordelia knew she would not be able to do anything. She had been derived of the right ever since the day she was born. No female Malfoy had sired children in centuries. She would not be the first.
Magic was strong, especially dark magic...blood magic. Blood curses were strong but the price even heavier. Ironically, Cordelia wondered what the price had been for the tragic fate her family had been subjugated to.
"And are you going to introduce me to the lady by your side or will I have to make you, Abraxas?"
The room had taken a somber turn to Cordelia's abhorrence. To the best of her abilities, Cordelia decided to steer the conversation towards the happier side with little luck as Abraxas let a frown frame his handsome face. By the fireplace, embers flickered a golden hue, neither gentile nor beautiful but of contained rage as the phantom of a dragon seemed to dance within the flames. Dormant but sentient, as if waiting for something. Cordelia secretly smiled.
No, perhaps the line would not die out. She would break the curse even if it cost her, her life.
"I'm sure there is no need for introductions. You've met before have you not?"
"I suppose. One does not forget the face of Borgia's only princess so easily."
Amusement laced Cordelia's voice, her pale eyes just a bit brighter than usual. She supposed her brother was getting old—He was 28—and the Malfoy family could not be left without an heir should something happen to him. The Malfoy line could not end now. Not when everything was about to just truly begin.
Though, she supposes once again, he could have done well to be wiser in his choice of bride. The Borgias were infamous for their marriages after all. She prayed her brother would survive.
"Now then, will you show me to where my darling nephew is or will I have to make you, dear brother?"
Cordelia remains awake long enough to watch her nephew Lucius turn one, his intelligent eyes reminiscent of her father's.
She stays long enough to receive the joyous news about the birth of Druella's youngest, only for worry to cloud her mind; The thrice pregnant woman had not heed her warning.
And then yet again, she resists the slumber just long enough to feel the last of the autumn breeze give way to the winter chill, the orchids remaining so ever lively. Cordelia often wonders, if silently, they were there just to mock her.
By the time the invitation comes, Cordelia can no longer move, prisoner to the white sheets. The air is not as fresh and the warmth of the fire no longer comforts her. Unlike so many times before, the lulling of the siren's voice does not remain cold, laced with a foreign bitterness and violence. The screeching vibrates in her ears and no magic can ease the pain.
It is only when Druella visits that the pain eases and her heart melts at the little angel Druella has brought.
"You want me... to be the child's godmother?"
Cordelia feels the world blur, her eyes and breathing heavy. The strength leaves her lips and with trembling hands, Cordelia reluctantly accepts the white haired angel into her embrace. For the first time, his small body warmth lights her skin a flame and the coldness Cordelia is so familiar with slips away. His soul was so pure...so much like him.
"They don't have names yet. I wanted you to name them."
"Them?"
Cordelia pauses, feeling the coldness seep in again. "What do you mean them?" For a moment, her heart beats fast, faster than it has for as long as she can remember.
Behind Druella, Cygnus Black somberly stepped out from the shadows, his handsome face marred by the scent of death and tragedy. Silently, Cordelia frowns. He would not survive the year. Death would soon come for him. In fact….stopping her train of thought, Cordelia withdrew herself.
In his arms, Cygnus Black held a bundle of white cloth preciously, eyes softening as he laid them on the bundle. Through half closed eyes, Cordelia sees a wisp of golden hair. Then, her sight blurs and she has to fight off the urge to hurl.
"Twins...you had twins…"
A weak smile graced her lips, the sight of the beautiful golden haired angel making her fall in love all over again, and Cordelia makes her decision then. She would bestow him a name of honor. One in remembrance of a man time had long forgotten.
"Alain, his name is Alain. Love him...cherish him...but do not hide him from the world. One can never hide a blessed one for long. The gods always find them don't they?"
Cordelia kissed the white haired angel's cheeks, eyes lingering on the faint glow of green upon the child's hand before proceeding to caress each finger with her lips. Despite the reddish glow of burnt flesh that was the child's hand, Cordelia merely smiles before passing him back to Druella and nodding her head. Druella in turn kissed her son and smiled sadly for each knew, the fate of a blessed was never a pretty one.
"Let me see her."
Cordelia's voice softened, eyes seeming more alive than Druella can ever recall having seen the younger. Yet, Druella also sees the skillfully veiled sorrow and her heart skips a beat as unconsciously, she pulled her little angel...Alain...his name was Alain now...closer into her embrace. Anxiously, Druella searched Cordelia's eyes for an answer...comfort...anything...she finds nothing but the eyes of a dying girl.
Druella, trembling, softly spoke, "The birthmark. We are not sure what it means. Is it…?"
Putting a finger to her lips, Cordelia silenced Druella before she could speak further. The gods had eyes and ears even in places one could not fathom. The matter at hand was dangerous to speak yet dare think of. Cordelia could only lament the foolish decision Druella had made.
"Narcissa...a name of blessings and curses. A warning to the consequences of vanity and the fate of the last man to have been gifted this name. Yet, also a reminder. Never allow anyone to undermine your worth child, it is not the destiny of a blessed one to do so."
The golden haired angel giggled, eyes bright as if comprehending Cordelia's words. Her fair skin was tinged a rosy red, eyes swirling in a sea of colors as if seeming to forget their original hue, and for a moment, Cordelia is mesmerized by the beautiful creature birthed from magic. Yet, freeing herself of the enchantment, she relented the infant back to the arms of her apparent father, Cygnus Black, noticing the shadow looming over him draw back as she did so. Curious...so curious it was...
But Cordelia would refrain from speaking.
"The day is no longer young. I am afraid I will have to excuse myself now."
Indeed, as Druella looked out the french windows, she noticed the sun had begun to set, dying the sky a deep crimson that faded to royal blue. Away from muggle settlement, Malfoy Manors' silence provided Druella a sort of eerie calmness as she continued to gaze at the few stars that had begun to litter the sky.
Perhaps if she had persevered and remained adamant, this scene would a be a regularity in her life. Perhaps the man next to her would be someone else and not a stranger. Affection she indeed had for him, but affection was not love and she knew, he would never love her just as she would never love him the way she had Lucius Malfoy.
Sighing, Druella held Alain close to her embrace.
"No. Cygnus and I will take our leave now. The children must be tired. It was good seeing you again, Cordelia."
Cordelia did not reply, merely smiling as she closed her eyes and listened to the couple's receding footsteps before hearing a creak as her bedroom door opened.
"Goodbye, Druella."
There was a pause, and then the door closed, leaving the odor of death behind.