A/N: I am humbled by the response to this story. Thank you to everyone who has read & reviewed and is following along. This is a slightly longer chapter. Please enjoy!
o.o.O.o.o
The remaining days between her trip to Grimmauld Place and July 7th were filled with the books that Sirius had given her. Three massive tomes filled with information on wizarding courtship, marriage bonds, and magical debts. Crookshanks was her constant companion as she filled countless rolls of parchment with her notes. Now that she was finished reading, she understood why Sirius had capitulated so quickly. The only way she could get out of this was to run, and hope he never found her. She'd be unable to kill him, due to the nature of the debt. The only good news was that after he signed the betrothal contract, he would be unable to kill her too.
Preparing for her meeting, Hermione set out a big bowl of food for Crookshanks and made sure the house was locked up. She'd dressed carefully, wanting to face this at least looking more confident than she felt. She'd carefully dried her hair, working a little hair potion into the damp curls. It had been a gift from Lavender, and it did usually keep her hair somewhat tamed. She was wearing black dress pants and a dark blue dress shirt with wide cuffs that came down over her hands. Sadly, her wardrobe lacked much wizarding casual wear. A wand holster was fitted to her forearm under her shirt. Never before had she been so happy to have splurged on it.
Breakfast had been skipped, Hermione's nerves wound too tightly to risk putting food in her stomach. The persistent tapping on her window made anxiety surge through her as she opened the window and the bird dropped small stone carving onto the kitchen island. She carefully picked it up and gripped it tightly. "I'll be back as soon as I can Crooks. Portus," she said clearly and there was a sickening hook behind her navel and Hermione was being yanked through space.
Despite wanting to look calm and collected, Hermione hit the ground in a sprawl trying hard not to be ill. She hated portkeys and couldn't wait to get her apparating license. It was a near thing, but she managed to resist the urge to swear.
"Allow me, Miss Granger." A smooth voice broke the silence, and Rodolphus offered the fallen witch a hand up.
Hermione swallowed, and made herself reach out and accept his help. The urge to slap his hand away and hex him within an inch of his life was undeniably there, but she shoved it down. So far he'd been mostly courteous, if you could ignore the simple fact that he'd kidnapped her parents. She took a moment to look at him, having only ever seen his Azkaban photograph. While it was clear he was not recovered from his stint in the wizarding prison, he was actually fairly attractive. His eyes were hazel, and his hair was a deep brunette tending near to black but yet not. During her not so subtle appraisal of him, it was clear that Rodolphus was returning the favour.
"Where are my parents?" Hermione finally found her voice, pulled her hand out of his grasp.
"They are currently at one of my family's summer homes in Provence. I have photographs in the sitting room. Once our negotiations are complete, I will return them home. I give you my word on that," he said gently.
Hermione nodded quietly, assuming that was likely the best she would get out of him. "I didn't mean to kill your wife."
"While I appreciate that, it changes nothing in this situation." Rodolphus' cool eyes hinted at nothing. "Please follow me, my elf will have tea ready for us as I imagine you may need something to calm your nerves." He gestured down the hallway.
Unlike Grimmauld Place, this house was light and airy. The windows let in the sunlight and it played off the light wood and bright paint on the walls. The carpets were in shades of cream and gold, and Hermione found herself somewhat more at ease than she had been the first time she'd visited Sirius' home. He opened door to their right and she was shown into a sitting room. Pausing in the doorway, she collected herself and tried to supress the urge to run.
"Please sit down," Rodolphus asked and took a seat in one of the chairs across from the loveseat, both were covered in a soft blue material and embroidered in gold. It was actually very pretty, but clearly not something a man would have chosen. Hermione sat down on the loveseat and visibly jumped as a full tea service popped up on the delicately carved wooden table between them.
"First, photographs of your parents." He handed her a slender envelope. He had to use all of his manners to not laugh at her as she jumped around like a skittish moon calf.
With shaky hands, Hermione opened the envelope and pulled out the pictures. They had been shot with the corner of a Daily prophet in frame so that she could be certain of the date. She touched the pictures and had to close her eyes for a long moment to compose herself. "Thank you," she managed to say.
"What do you prefer in your tea?" He asked her.
"Just a little honey and milk." She responded, putting the pictures aside reluctantly. The forced normalcy of the situation made her want to scream and run away, but she made herself accept the tea cup from him. It really was very good tea.
Rodolphus could see just how nervous the young witch was, and he did regret that taking her parents had caused so much distress. It was unusual for muggle-born witches and wizards to maintain strong family ties, particularly after so many years at Hogwarts. "I'm not certain how much you know about arranged matches in our world, but if you have questions I would be happy to try and address them now."
"I've been doing as much reading as I could over the week," she said. "I understand the contract negotiations can be a drawn out process, how did you want to tackle that?"
Relieved that he did not need to explain everything, he sipped his own tea. "I would propose you stay here for the week, in your own suite of course, and that way we can work on the contract until it's something we are both comfortable with. Staying here would also allow us to perhaps get to know one another. After that's been settled, I can collect your parents and return them home." He leaned back.
"I'd need to go home and collect some things if I'm going to be staying." Hermione said. "I can't leave my familiar alone that long."
He nodded. "Of course, I'd be happy to apparate you there and back after dinner. We can start with the contract after we finish our tea."
"Why would you do this? I'm muggleborn, and you're a Death Eater. You shouldn't want anything to do with me." She asked, giving propriety the proverbial finger for the moment. She'd been polite enough to make her teeth hurt, given the situation, and she wanted a little blunt honesty.
"Fourteen years in Azkaban will let anyone re-evaluate their priorities. Not all of us were fanatical blood purists, though of course we all felt a certain understandable superiority. My father was the Dark Lord's schoolmate, and they shared a dorm for years. I grew up with the man at our dinner table, and it was always expected that I would be one of his. He is not the man I grew up revering, and I am not the same man that knelt before him and took the Dark Mark. As for why you specifically…I feel after doing some digging, that you'd have something to offer the Lestrange line. You are intelligent, talented, and more powerful than I think you know. The biggest upside is that I won't have to share you with the Dark Lord," he drawled.
Her eyes widened. "You mean Bellatrix…"
"Has been fucking the Dark Lord since long before we married, yes," he answered, completely unabashed. "She was also insane before we ended up in prison, and I assure you that it did not improve her mental stability. Even taking your blood into account, I'm trading up." Amusement made his face light up, the emotionless mask melting a little.
"But she was your wife, I thought fidelity was built into most marriage bonds." Hermione frowned. Everything she'd read had been adamant about the nasty curses usually attached to those fidelity bonds.
"Usually, yes. Though Bellatrix flat out refused to sign it, and in the end our parents bent to the Dark Lord's will and simply removed that clause from our contract. I was free to seek my pleasure where I chose, but so was she." A hint of bitterness coloured his voice.
Hermione could well imagine how that had felt, to have an affair like that rubbed in your face for years. It must have been horrid. "I'm sorry." She said quietly, stunned that she felt ANY sympathy for this man.
"I knew what I was getting into Miss Granger, though the sentiment is again appreciated." He said quietly. "Unfortunately, you'll find I've learned from the errors of my youth and I'll not be made a mockery of again." He set his tea down. "If you'll excuse me a moment, I'll grab the contract from my study and you can peruse it." Rod took a deep breath as he left the teenaged witch behind. Rabastan was right, he was certifiably insane. Perhaps he should just head to the Janus Thickley ward right now. The desire to vent his frustrations over Bella on this girl was certainly there, but he ruthlessly strangled it down.
This initial contract was as generous as he could afford to make it for the girl. She had not chosen this, and while he was not above taking advantage of the situation, Rodolphus wanted to try and be reasonable. She had not grown up in a pureblood household, so certain things would appear out of line to her a first blush but hopefully they could work through them. He returned to the sitting room to see that Dilly had brought the girl some breakfast.
"She'll be pleased to have someone to dote on," he remarked as he entered the room. "Dilly's been my elf since I was a child."
Hermione nodded. "She's very…persuasive." The little creature had been fussing at her to eat something.
"Dilly will see to anything you need, and likely a few things you don't while you're here. That is the first draft of the contract, and I'll explain anything that you find confusing," he said, and helped himself to one of the breakfast sandwiches.
Hermione began to read through the contract. The language was fairly straight forward, but the amount of things covered in it was…daunting. The beginning was the easiest, given the fact that she was muggleborn, Rodolphus waived any requirement of a dowry from her family. 'Big of him, considering he's holding my parents ransom to gain my co-operation…' she thought uncharitably. He proposed a date for the wedding, having it take place over the Yule holiday, and it would have to be held at the Lestrange Chateau. He would require she spend the holiday in its entirety with him there, in lieu of a traditional honeymoon period. The word 'consummation' seemed to float off the page, demanding her attention. Nausea came over her in a wave and she had to close her eyes, taking a deep breath before opening her eyes again.
Stomach wrestled back under control she returned to the contract. The next section was purely financial. She'd receive a monthly stipend of 10,000 galleons per month, her own personal vault, and would have complete control over the London townhome. In the event of his death or incarceration, she would receive full access to all the vaults and properties. There was a fair bit of difficulty wrapping her head around that kind of money, and she felt a little bit strange about it honestly.
A blush began creeping up her neck during the next section that detailed sex, fidelity, and heirs. The expectation was that she would share his bed until they had guaranteed that she had conceived, after which she'd be allowed to take a potion to place the pregnancy in stasis. She frowned a little. "A pregnancy can be placed in stasis?" She looked up at him, realizing he'd been watching her intently.
"Yes, for up to three years. It will prevent the pregnancy from being harmed by any means, either magical, physical, or through potions. Only a specific potion can restart the pregnancy. It's been used often through times of war, and is perfectly safe. It's also been used once or twice to prevent a witch from being forced to leave her studies prematurely, but only if she seeks aide promptly. It must be consumed within two weeks of conception." Rodolphus explained. "I was quite serious about not wishing to interfere with your schooling."
Hermione nodded, trying to hear him past the sound of blood rushing in her ears. "And what if I don't…over the holiday?" She asked.
"Then you will come to me over the spring break, and we will try again." Rodolphus said, seeing how close she was to falling apart. He got up and went over, crouching down in front of her and touching her hand. "You're handling this far better than I thought, so I don't begrudge you a break down here and there. I'm sure I'll have one or two of my own." He admitted.
Those words drew a tearful laugh from Hermione, and she wiped away a few errant tears. "This just feels so…unreal."
"I suppose it must," He said, hazel eyes regarding her. "I'm not the monster you imagine me to be, or that I've been portrayed as. Not that I'm trying to pass myself off as some paragon of virtue either. I am just a man, Miss Granger. We find ourselves on opposite sides in a war, but that doesn't mean that there cannot be civility and respect between us." He patted her hand gently and stood. "My marriage to Bellatrix was sadly lacking in both those areas, and I hope to remedy that this time around."
"Did you love her?" Hermione found herself asking, unsure what prompted it.
"No. She loved the Dark Lord, and Bellatrix was not exactly the type of witch to engender soft feelings," he said simply. "We married because our parents arranged it, and unfortunately we never grew together as a couple the way it was expected we would. She was too much in love with another man, and I could never forgive her for that."
Hermione nodded, trying to understand. "Why do you follow him?" she asked softly.
"That is none of your business, Miss Granger." He said, face suddenly expressionless. "I suggest you finish reading over the contract."
Hermione flinched a little at the sharpness of his tone and dropped her eyes back to the paper on her lap. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she continued to read. The fidelity clause was very precise, but there was an exception. If he were to be incarcerated, and providing she had produced a legitimate heir, she would be free to seek her pleasures wherever she saw fit. After the requirement of an heir was satisfied, the contract was clear that she had the right to refuse him access to her body. She found that a little strange considering the contract clearly spelled out that neither of them were allowed to take lovers outside of the marriage. She continued to read and finally she reached the end and she fixed him with a strange look.
"Why make this so favourable for me?" She asked him quietly. "I have no choice, you could demand just about anything and I'd have little recourse."
"Because you have no choice." He answered simply. "If you'll come with me, I will show you to your room and you can rest, and make any amendments you desire. I assure you that as long as they're reasonable, I will agree to them." He stood.
Hermione felt even more confused than before, but she followed him upstairs to the second floor. He opened the suite for her. The room was decorated largely in white with soft blue and gold accents. The massive windows let the light stream in, making the room feel much larger than it was.
"Just call for Dilly if you need anything, there are quills and ink at the desk." Rodolphus said and shut the door behind him as he left.
Hermione walked across the room and sat down at the desk, spreading the contract out and then getting her notes from her bag. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to still the emotions swirling through her. This was nothing like she'd been expecting, there had been no threats, no violence, and not even a single slur against her. The utter disparity between expectation and reality had left her reeling. He didn't appear to be some kind of depraved monster, and she didn't know what to believe. Regardless of what he was, she was going to have to marry this wizard. Merlin, she'd have to sleep with him.
That thought made her stand and pace up and down the room, panic settling around her. She'd never done more than kiss, and even then only with Viktor. He'd been such a bloody gentleman it had driven her nearly insane. Why couldn't he have been more forward? Then she wouldn't be facing *this* utterly unprepared. Hot salty tears slipped down her cheeks. She didn't want to, not with someone like him. A little pop startled her.
"Would young Missy like some hot chocolate?"
Hermione wiped at her tears, looking at the little House Elf. She was wearing a pretty gold and blue shift, it was clean and clearly new. She looked well taken-care of compared to the likes of Winky and Dobby. "Is your name Dilly?"
"Yes Missy, Master Roddy asked Dilly to take care of you." She said. "Chocolate will make you feel better Missy, sit sit." The elf hustled her over to an overstuffed armchair in front of the fire place. A snap of her fingers and a little table appeared beside the chair, with a mug of hot chocolate and some little shortbread biscuits beside it.
"You said your Master 'asked' you to take care of me? Not ordered?" She frowned, remembering Dobby telling her how the followers of Voldemort treated their house elves like vermin at the best of times.
"Master Roddy never orders…he is kind to Dilly and Rosy, like his mother was." The Elf patted her hand. "No tears Missy, Dilly will take care of you now." The little thing smiled and then disappeared, leaving a very confused Hermione Granger behind her.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o
Hermione came down for dinner, feeling just as confused as she had earlier that morning. She'd gone over the contract more carefully, and had only a few small amendments. There was something she wanted to add to it, but wasn't entirely sure that he'd be willing to do it, or what he'd want in return if he was. Rodolphus stood as she entered the room and inclined his head to her. She gave him a small nod in return. "I hope you weren't waiting long."
"No, I was just reading in the study." He poured her a glass of wine before returning to his seat. "I trust you had a pleasant afternoon?"
"I spent some time going over the contract, and made a few minor notes to discuss." She said. "It's nothing that you should object to, at least I don't think you will." She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it.
"What else?" He could see something was playing on her mind.
"Will my parents be targets as things get worse?" She asked softly.
Rodolphus took a moment before answering, his eyes taking in the tension in her shoulders and how it radiated up the slender column of her neck. Gryffindors had never been very good at concealing their emotions, but this girl was trying. "During the last war, families of muggleborn wizards and witches were favourite targets of the lesser of the Dark Lord's followers. I cannot imagine that this time would prove any different." He decided to give her honesty.
"Could…would you hide them for me?" She asked, hating how it almost felt like begging.
Rodolphus' instinct was to scoff at her request, what did he honestly care for the lives of two worthless muggles? 'They are not worthless to her. Use them,' his mind prompted him. "Are you asking me for a favour, Miss Granger?"
"Yes. I'm asking you to protect my parents." She said as dinner appeared on the table in front of them.
"Very well," he said and turned his attention to the meal of roast beef, accompanied by roasted vegetables, an impressive Yorkshire pudding and gravy. "What alterations did you wish to make to the contract?" he asked.
Hermione started going over the small details that she wanted changed, and was relieved as he nodded in agreement. The meal really was delicious, and nerves had her drinking more of the wine than she probably should have. It left her feeling muzzy, everything blurred around the edges. She barely noticed him topping her glass off here and there. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" She shook her head trying to clear it.
"I said, we should make that trip to your home so that you can collect your things, and familiar tonight." Rodolphus chuckled a little. The girl was on her way to being quite inebriated, the flush in her cheeks was decidedly attractive.
"Of course," she said and stood. "You should tell Dilly that dinner was wonderful…" She mused aloud.
"I always do." He chuckled and moved over, pulling her in close and wrapping an arm around her. It was more contact than was required, but she was quite drunk and he had no desire to have to deal with her being splinched.
They apparated and Hermione's head swam rather dramatically as they popped into her home. She swayed and felt Rodolphus catch her before she fell onto her ass in her parent's living room. She flushed in embarrassment before stepping back under her own power. "Is it safe to apparate with a cat?"
"Very safe." He promised. "I'll wait here while you pack your things, just call me if you require assistance." He laughed a little to himself as she left the room, not walking quite straight. Clearly she had no head for wine, a fact he filed away for later use. He sat down on the sofa, only to be confronted by the largest, ugliest orange tom cat he'd ever seen in his life.
"Mrrrrow." The cat declared and sat on his lap, staring at him with impossibly intelligent yellow eyes.
"You must be Miss Granger's familiar," he said respectfully. A witch's familiar could be a formidable thing, and this one didn't feel quite like your average cat. There was something 'other' about him, and in felines that often meant Kneazle blood, which meant he could be dangerous if he felt Rod was a threat to his mistress.
The tom merely sat and stared up at him, as if sussing him out. After a very long moment, the cat seemed to come to his decision and moved, curling up on the sofa beside him as if to keep an eye on the wizard.
"There you are Crookshanks." Hermione said, looking relieved when she finally came back down. "Could I trouble you to shrink down my trunk for me?" She asked Rodolphus.
"Of course." He stood and followed her back upstairs. Her bedroom was as orderly as he would have anticipated, the walls taken over by childhood academic awards, and bookshelves full to the brim with fiction and non-fiction alike. He went and shrunk down her trunk, when a photograph caught his eye. Sitting on her desk was a still photo of the girl in beautiful blue dress, on the arm of an older boy in a Durmstrang uniform. "When was this taken?"
"At the Yule Ball in my fourth year," she said. "I was the Durmstrang champion's date that night."
"Viktor Krum wasn't it?" he asked and at her nod he placed the photograph back down. "You looked lovely."
"Thank you." She said a bit awkwardly and picked up the shrunken trunk and slipped it into her pocket.
"Let's collect your cat, and get back to the house." He didn't like lingering here. It struck him as strange that there were no monitoring wards on the property, especially given the girl's status as a target after the Department of Mysteries fiasco. Even the Dark Lord acknowledged her as one of Potter's greatest assets, why on earth hadn't Dumbledore and the Order recognized her worth as well?
Hermione nodded and went back downstairs, and smiled as Crooks jumped up into her arms. She cuddled him close, not sure she could have faced all of this without him. She looked up, feeling Rodolphus' presence at her back as he descended the stairs behind her. A frown tugged at her lips as she watched him draw his wand. "What are you doing?"
"Just checking something." He muttered and cast a spell to reveal any wards or monitoring spells on the property, the dark look on his face deepened as nothing was shown. A strange feeling flowed through him, something akin to pity for the girl who'd been marked for Death but left to fend for herself. With nothing else to do he went and wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping the cat pressed between them and apparated them back to his townhome.
"What were you casting? I didn't recognize the spell." Curiosity had cleared the fog in her mind, at least temporarily. Crookshanks wiggled free and took off to explore his new domain, not entirely pleased by the sensation of transport by apparating.
Rodolphus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I was trying to see if the Order had placed any wards, or monitoring spells on your home." He said, deciding she deserved the truth. "There was nothing there."
Hermione nodded, realizing why he looked almost…sad for her. "I'm sure they had other things…."
"Do you value yourself so little?" Rod cut off her protestations. "They knew I had called claim on you, the Dark Lord told everyone that you were mine to do with as I pleased. I have no doubt that Severus ran to them with that information. You were the only one seriously injured at the Ministry battle. They had nothing else so urgent that they could not have spent an afternoon laying wards, or at least moving your family to a safehouse. The Order has them, just as surely as we do. They left you exposed Miss Granger, an under-aged witch recovering from a curse that should have killed you…and they took no effort to protect you."
Hermione felt tears stinging her eyes and she just turned to go up to her room, not wanting to face the fact that for whatever reason she'd been left vulnerable. A shot of pain went up her arm as Rodolphus grabbed her and spun her back around. "Let go of me!" She struggled.
"No…you are going to listen to me." Rodolphus all but slammed her into the wall of foyer. "They are not your friends Miss Granger, and you're a stupid little fool if you think they care about you. If I had wanted your death, they'd be crying sad tears over your broken body right now. They'd mourn for a while, toss around recriminations about what more they should have done…but you'd still be rotting in the ground. All that promise, all that talent, gone because you meant so little to them, and because you'd placed your blind faith in them. The Order has a sad history of protecting its assets, even when they know threats are coming. Some people are just expendable in their eyes, and clearly you are. You are mine now, and I will protect you because of that, but you need to understand that you can't trust Dumbledore and his devoted lackeys. They will use you, and cast you aside if you allow it." Only then did he release his grip on her arm.
Hermione rubbed her arm where he'd held her, and shook her head. "You're wrong." She whispered, but it lacked conviction. "You're wrong." She brushed past him and hurried up the stairs and went to her room, finding Crooks already sitting by her door. After locking the door behind her, she pulled her familiar into her arms and curled into her chair and cried, hating that he'd made so much sense…and that she felt the stirrings of doubt in her gut.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o
Rodolphus was still in a foul mood when he felt his mark begin to burn. A flick of his wand and his face was obscured with his Death Eater mask and his robes transfigured to non-descript black ones. The tug of the summons took him to the shadowed depths of a park, and he approached his master and went down to a knee before him.
"Tonight we shall have our revenge on the mudblood bitch and her family…" Voldemort said silkily and then the others began to appear.
A mild sense of panic gripped his chest, eternally thankful that he had the girl safely hidden where only he and Rabastan could reach her. He rose and inclined his head. "So long as she is mine to do with as I please. I have plans for her, my Lord," he said.
"I imagine you do Rodolphus." The Dark Lord purred and once they were all assembled, they moved out of the park and down the darkened road towards the Granger's home.
Rodolphus felt himself sink back into himself as they moved through the gate and the Dark Lord blasted the door open with the casual flick of his wand. He and the others moved through the House, searching relentlessly for any sign of the muggles, or the mudblood. He stood in the middle of the girl's bedroom and cast his eyes around, having a feeling the house would be gone by morning. He flicked his wand over her desk, shrinking down some photographs and slipping them into an inner pocket of his robes. He could risk saving nothing else sadly. Downstairs the Dark Lord was seething.
"The girl's trunk is missing, my Lord. It looks as though she and her family have fled. Perhaps the Order has put them into hiding," Rodolphus mused aloud.
"Severus." His voice hissed through the room and the tall, lithe form of the Potions Master came forward, falling to one knee.
"I heard nothing of this my Lord, the girl was returned home a week ago and I have seen no evidence of her at the Order's Headquarters, nor did the Headmaster seem concerned about retribution levelled at her. The Weasleys were placed under protections, as was Potter, but no such actions were discussed for the Mudblood." He reported, head bowed in supplication.
"Clearly you are misinformed, Severus. CRUCIO!" He snarled and held Snape under the curse for long moments, stopping only when screams were finally drawn from the man's lips. "You will discover where they have moved the girl." He ordered. "Burn it all, and set the Dark Mark in the sky….let them know we're coming for her."
Rodolphus nodded and left the House, watching as Fiendfyre consumed the structure, and his brethren had moved into the neighbouring homes for a bit of torture and mayhem. He lifted his wand to the sky and cast, "Mosmorde!" The sickly green light played off the gold in his eyes, lighting them up for a brief moment.
"We will find her Rodolphus, and then you will have your vengeance." The Dark Lord swore quietly, before he disapparated with a crack. He watched as the flames leapt higher and he started to walk away, only to be stopped by Snape. "Do you not have orders to attend to, Snape?"
"Do you have the girl?" he asked quietly.
"Why? Has the Order misplaced her? Perhaps you should have taken better care of her, while you had the chance," Rodolphus said cruelly and disapparated before Snape could respond. The bloody fools in the Order deserved at least a few days of panic and fear for their precious mudblood before they found out she was safe. Eventually he would need to deal with Snape, and somehow inform the Dark Lord of his plans. It was a twisted enough plot that the man would likely approve, but he needed the bonding bracelet on her before he did anything of the sort. Once the contract was signed, they would both be magically bound and unable to harm the other. It would prevent the Dark Lord from ordering him to torture and kill her for the amusement of all.
His father's study had long been a refuge of his whenever he needed to think something through. Initially he had hoped that the Dark Lord would merely leave the girl to him, and focus on other more important matters. Sadly he had taken far too personal an interest in Rodolphus' revenge. That meant that the betrothal could not remain a secret. It would make things more difficult for her, and would likely mean there would be some difficult demands from the Dark Lord. He poured himself a tumbler of fire-whiskey and tossed it back, a moment of avoidance before he had to wake the girl and tell her what had happened. One more drink, and he gathered his nerve and went to the girl's rooms and knocked firmly at the door.
There was no answer, and he silently unlocked it and entered the darkened suite of rooms. He peeked into the bedroom and saw her curled into a ball, still wearing her clothes and hugging a pillow to her chest. Her giant orange beast was sitting sentinel on the end of the bed, watching him warily as if warning him away. Deciding that informing her of the destruction of her home could wait, he backed away and left her to sleep.
