1978
The locket weighed heavily around Claudia's neck. It was an elaborate piece of ugliness, a family relic from the Victorian era that was in stark contrast with her simple silk dress. Her dearest wish was to bury the thing beneath the daisies at the bottom of the garden, to hide the tarnished gold beneath the clean lines of petals and leaves. But this wish was to remain just that: a wish. The sight of Claudia adorned in her mother's jewellery always won her father's smile, and for that she was willing to wear the gaudiest necklace.
It did not matter that she was currently furious with her father. She had thrown awful tantrums during her childhood, kicking the walls and screaming until her cheeks were red and slicked with tears, but not once had she ever thought of leaving off her mother's jewellery. Similarly, no matter how disappointed her father had been with her he had never arrived at dinner without the tie Claudia had painstakingly laboured to create in her first year at Hogwarts.
Tonight was no different, although for a moment she seriously considered ripping the locket off and thrusting it back into its velvet case to show her father how disgusted she was. But no. She would find another way to change her father's mind, one that wouldn't risk wounding his feelings. Hadn't he always indulged her, given her whatever she had asked for as long as the request was reasonable? He would bend to reason as long as she could hit upon the right argument. Sighing, Claudia snapped the velvet case shut and tossed it into an open drawer to seal her resolve.
The knock at the door, her father arrived to escort her to dinner, would come any moment. She turned to survey herself coolly in the mirror a final time. Claudia Blake possessed a striking beauty. Her hair streamed past her shoulders in thick black waves, seeming to grow at once darker and lighter at the same time in the flickering candlelight. Startling against the creamy perfection of her skin was a naturally rosy mouth and eyes as hard and blue as chips of sapphire. Hers was an arrogant, almost haughty face, but her mouth was built for laughter and her eyes, so piercing when looking upon those she disdained, were kind in the company of friends.
Not for the first time she cursed this beauty inherited, along with boxes upon boxes of hideous jewellery, from her mother. Perhaps if she had been born with an entirely unremarkable face she wouldn't be in this awful situation. But even as this thought occurred to her she knew it to be untrue. Shape, size, even gender didn't matter. This was the future her father had chosen for her and her appearance, though it might complicate matters, wouldn't affect the final outcome.
A soft, almost inaudible, tap on the door announced her father's arrival. Smoothing her dress with fingers that trembled, Claudia rose from her seat and crossed the room in the long, nearly masculine strides that Madame Clarissa, her childhood teacher, had always berated her for. Opening the door she found Leopold Blake, her father, dressed in an immaculate dining suit and, ah yes, the tie sporting the Hogwarts crest and a Gryffindor lion.
"You look wonderful, dear," her father said in greeting. Claudia nodded in acknowledgement of this compliment, silently wishing that the same thing could be said for him. Upon returning from Hogwarts at the beginning of the summer she had been shocked by how much he had aged, and the thought of leaving him for her final year of school created a tight knot of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Would he be here when she next returned?
"Have you prepared everything for tomorrow?" he asked, taking her by the arm and gently steering her down the long corridor.
"Yes."
"Trunk packed?"
"Yes."
"Uniform clean and ironed?"
"Yes."
"Homework completed? Because you know your final NEWT year is the most important of your academic career. If you fail to apply-"
"Father," Claudia interrupted impatiently. "I've done everything. I've transfigured half the furniture in the house into chickens and back, brewed all the set potions, and written all the essays for Charms, Defence against the Dark Arts and Herbology."
"Weren't you set any work for Care of Magical Creatures?"
Claudia sighed irritably. "Professor Kettleburn said that I was excused from writing any essays as long as I could keep Bert from attacking anybody over the summer."
Leopold's eyebrows shot so far up his forehead that they almost disappeared beneath his hairline. "And will you tell Professor Kettleburn about the unfortunate incident with that charming young man from the Ministry?"
"You know as well as I do that kneazles don't attack people for being charming," Claudia said, leaping to the defence of the pet who was more like a friend. "Whatever that man was, he wasn't trustworthy."
They had reached the bottom of the sweeping staircase. Leopold relinquished his daughter's arm and turned to face her, assuming the expression he normally reserved for the very occasional 'P' grade and, more often, news that Claudia had earned a detention. "Now, my dear, remember what we discussed. You must be on your best behaviour tonight."
Claudia's lips twitched into a smile devoid of any humour. "Afraid to let Mr Belvoir see what he's letting himself in for, father?"
"Claudia," he reprimanded sternly.
"Perhaps," she continued, ignoring the note of warning in Leopold's voice, "if I behave badly enough he will call an end to this ridiculous charade. What do you think it would take, father? Giving his wineglass wings to fly around the room, or perhaps giving his chair fangs? Or maybe even-"
"Claudia!" Leopold interrupted in a voice that left no room for argument. "Do you think I would even have thought of asking you to do this if it wasn't absolutely necessary?"
"Necessary? Necessary?" she repeated incredulously. "Will people die if I don't go through with this, will rivers break their banks and flood homes? I was under the impression that I'm being forced into this to maintain our comfortable position."
"As always you fail to see the greater picture! Lives do depend on this, whether you realise it or not! We have been at the forefront of maintaining good relations between the muggle and wizarding worlds since the seventeenth century. Will you allow hundreds of years of good work to deteriorate as a result of your selfishness?"
This final accusation echoed around the grand entrance hall. Colour had stained Claudia's pale cheeks in violent red tendrils as if she had been slapped. The silence grew around them, becoming thicker and thicker until Claudia was amazed that she could breathe in such an oppressive atmosphere. Finally she had to say something or she would scream just to break the awful silence. "No, father," she said stiffly, turning on her heels to walk away.
"Claudia," Leopold said gently, and she glanced over her shoulder. His eyes brimmed with a desperate plea for understanding, for forgiveness. She knew as well as he that there was nothing he could do to change the world they lived in. He couldn't change the responsibilities and sacrifices that their ancestral duty demanded of them. But she also knew that she could never forgive him for this, for taking one of the most important decisions of her life away from her. Without a word, she turned away and continued into the sitting room.
In the sitting room were two people Claudia had never met, staring at Bert with a mixture of curiosity and fear. The kneazle sat on a hard backed chair casually licking one of his paws, pretending that he wasn't aware of being watched. With his sand coloured fur flecked with deeper shades of orange and brown and his plumed tail, he looked more like a lion cub than a cat. He tended to make new visitors to the house uncomfortable, staring at them levelly with bright eyes that glittered with intelligence and voicing a soft meow of judgement.
As Claudia entered the room, Bert narrowed his eyes in greeting and leaped from the chair, strolling to the doorway to rub his head affectionately against her legs. The two guests jumped to their feet as if released from a spell, and Claudia saw them properly for the first time.
One of them was a woman of middle years wearing a dress in a shade of pink that made Claudia's eyes ache. Her butter coloured hair was piled on the top of her head in elaborate curls, and she clung to the arm of the young man at her side. He had a mop of unruly brown hair, friendly green eyes and a smile that was almost shy.
He must be the one, Claudia thought. The stranger my father expects me to marry.
"Claudia," said Leopold, who had appeared silently at her side. "This is Elizabeth Belvoir and her son Luther."
"A pleasure," the woman, Elizabeth, said, nodding to Claudia and smiling coldly.
"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Miss Blake," said Luther, taking Claudia's hand and awkwardly brushing it with his dry lips.
"Come now, Luther," Claudia said. "If we're to marry within the year we can dispense with formalities. Call me Claudia." Luther's smile widened, as did his mother's. Leopold, whose eyes flickered shut as if in pain, was the only one who noticed the sarcasm in Claudia's voice. She sighed inwardly; it was going to be a long night.
The next few hours passed painfully slowly. Claudia spent the whole of dinner pushing food around her plate, raising forkfuls of thinly sliced beef and steaming vegetables to her mouth only to have to clamp her lips together as her stomach protested at the thought of food. She knew her stomach would be growling with hunger by the morning, but the snack trolley on the train was always well stocked and she had a delicious feast to look forward to at Hogwarts.
The talk at the table made her feel even more nauseous than the food. The parents (or, more accurately, Elizabeth) discussed the details of Claudia and Luther's wedding ("Of course, I feel it's my duty to arrange the ceremony," said Elizabeth with a simpering smile, "It's the least I could do as you are covering the cost, Mr Blake") and where they would live after they were married ("Your house is beautiful, Mr Blake! I will certainly visit often"). Occasionally Luther would venture his opinion, preferring simple answers such as "yes" or "no" or "more wine please".
Claudia survived the evening by allowing her mind to come loose from its moorings and drift away. She thought of school and attempted to guess which of the professors would be setting homework on their first day of classes. She thought of sneaking into the Forbidden Forest at night, Bert trotting happily at her heels, and of the first Hogsmeade trip near Halloween. The thought of drinking butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks with her friends couldn't fail to cheer her up. Her friends! She had missed them terribly all summer, eagerly anticipating their letters and wishing she could accept their offers to visit during the holiday.
She missed talking with Lily late into the night and poring over homework in the library with Remus. She even missed Remus's friends, the group that called themselves the "Marauders". Last year she'd had a successful trial for the quidditch team and had become firm friends with James Potter, and she had struck up a friendship with Sirius Black during Slughorn's uneventful Christmas party, killing the boredom by plotting ways to trick James and Lily into Madam Pudifoot's on Valentine's Day. Claudia didn't know much about the fourth Marauder, Peter Pettigrew, but he was nice enough every time they spoke.
Finally the night was over and her father was escorting Elizabeth to the door, Claudia lagging behind a few steps with Luther. "Here," he murmured, and Claudia felt something pressed into her hand.
Turning her palm upwards, she found a small box immaculately wrapped in a silk bow. "I know it's your birthday in a week. Don't open it until then."
"Thank you," Claudia said stiffly.
Lowering his voice so that it was barely above a whisper, Luther said, "I know this is strange for you. It's strange for me too. But give me a chance; I'm a good person." He bent down swiftly to kiss her cheek before hurrying from the house with his mother, leaving Claudia to clutch her birthday present with fingers that trembled.