The first years bundled out of the potions classroom, for the majority of the class; Heredis included, there couldn't be a more fitting way to break up for the holidays than escaping the clutches of the potions master. Unfortunately, his ominous presence would be lingering in the manor over Christmas, Uncle Severus would much rather spend his time holed up in his own home brewing than surrounded by his god children and the Lord and Lady Malfoy, and he was not one to conceal his displeasure at being forced into the festivities year upon year. As the rabble filed into the heaving corridors, Theo grabbed Heredis by the sleeve and dragged her to the side.

"Do you mind?!"

Theodore rolled his eyes at the aghast expression on the girl's face, "Not really" he replied with a lopsided grin which was met with a furious scowl.

"It. Was. rhetorical. Now what on earth do you want?! Some people have homes to go to"

"I just wanted to double check before I owl home and make the arrangements. Are you sure you can sort this out?"

Heredis grinned and put a reassuring hand on the whippet-like boy's shoulder, "If Narcissa has taught me anything, it's how to plan for every eventuality and how to make sure you get your own way. Trust me, Nott – Everything will go exactly as planned". Studying her gleeful expression dubiously, Theodore once again felt a pang of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach. It might be the fact that the smile looked so alien on her sharp aristocratic features that were usually coloured by a petulant scowl, but he found himself unsettled by her certainty and he wished that he hadn't put his trust in the slippery slytherin.

It had been but a few hours and mercifully all of the Malfoy entourage had been ready early enough to leave before the end of term feast, Stevos usually ended up leaving the next day due to spending his last day at Hogwarts in a blind panic of trying to bundle all of his possessions into a single suitcase. Despite having his younger siblings to co-ordinate, the trio were ready in record time and well before the cut off for leaving that day. Stevos chose to believe it was because his organisational skills were flourishing but he knew deep down that the monotony of packing distracted his mind from his recent heartbreak and it meant he needn't talk to anybody who dared question his foul mood. Stevos was making the most of not having to adopt a phlegmatic mask as he would upon their arrival at home, and his turbulent expression seemed to have warded off Draco and Heredis and despite the painful isolation he was suffering in his heart, he was rather enjoying the peace and quiet.

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As soon as she had checked Weasley had unpacked her belongings and stowed her case where it should be, Heredis made a beeline for the study. Lucius hadn't come to meet them at the station and had instead left collecting the children to his wife, that Heredis had reasoned, meant he had barricaded himself in his study working on some new scheme or parliamentary doctrine – usually it was wise to leave him undisturbed, but there was something the girl wished to discuss and goddess save anyone who dared stand in her way. To emphasise the point, Stevos who was about to make his way to the library, saw the determined expression set on his god sister's face and ducked back into his room. He didn't know what she was up to and for the first time since September, it wasn't his responsibility to find out. She entered with out knocking, only to be met by a disapproving gaze, "Can I help you?" – Lucius had intended on summoning his god daughter to his study that afternoon, and the last thing he had expected was to see his out-of-line charge marching into his study. Quite often Heredis would let herself in when he was alone and take up residence on the sofa in the corner; it was a quiet place for her to seek shelter from the rambunctious nature of his sons and more often than not, sit and sulk, glaring resentfully at Lucius if she was still upset by his ruling on a matter and hadn't quite forgiven him. On those occasions, she would slip in quietly and Lucius would let her believe he hadn't noticed, saving an argument that there was no need to have. This was not one of these occasions.

"I want to ask something of you"

"…"

"Please".

"What do you want?" he asked, for he was under no illusion that this was a social call.

"I wish for you to invite Theodore Nott to the Winter Ball"

"And why in Merlin's name would I want to do that?"

"Because I want you to" she replied simply as if it was obvious.

"As surprising as this revelation may be to you, I do not live to serve you Lady Rosier… put simply; we do not always get what we want, especially if we also happen to be naughty little girls who don't know how to behave".

"Chalk it up as a personal favour"

"I do not accept favours from eleven-year-olds and I would suggest that you do not offer them lightly. If you ask for a favour you are bound by your word to reciprocate in kind, childish want will make a murderer out of you yet".

"Why do you see the worst in people?"

"Because I am not blinded by naivety"

"You are blinded by hate"

"That is a bold accusation, child. In truth the world can be a very cruel place, and I have witnessed such cruelty first-hand – I have ensured that you have had the privilege to grow up so painfully unaware. Optimism is a pleasure most cannot afford".

"Perhaps if you closed your eyes when you cast unforgivable curses, the cruelty would not be so painfully obvious, godfather". Lucius's eyes snapped up from his reading to meet those of his goddaughter, the meaning in their steely grey glaringly obvious.

"I would think very carefully before making such allegations Lady Rosier"

"If the mask fits"

"How. dare. you." Lucius's voice trembled with restraint as he rose from his chair so slowly, he was barely moving at all.

"Now, where do we stand on Theodore Nott?" asked Heredis boldly, leaving a stunned Lucius stood over his desk glowering at his charge unable to find the words to reciprocate.

"Um,"

"Um is not a word godfather, and neither is it my name. My name is Heredis, and you shall address me as such" she scolded him in a perfect mockery of Lucius's usual retort.

"I can think of many other things to call you other than your name you insolent little chit-", Lucius paused as he took the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, taking a deep calming breathe. Heredis studied his expression, his eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he was a deadly combination of seething, confused and exasperated – it was this exact formula which would leave her godfather so dumbfounded he would do nearly anything to get the source of his steadily developing tension headache out of his study. It was a calculated move that rarely paid off; one that only Heredis was brave enough to attempt, brave or stupid. Lucius was well aware he was being played but he was so unused to having things done on somebody else's terms, in this room out of all of them – he, like his father before him, had used his study to conduct business, a secretive affair when it came to the children of the household and the room held a unique mystery, a deadly allure. He knew full well he was an imposing figure sat on his throne like chair, behind the grand expanse of desk from which he ruled his kingdom. The eerily empty room held no feminine touches in the décor or finnicky ornaments; despite its grandeur, the study was plain and practical. Lucius knew the exact feeling festering in the pit of the stomach that his children felt when anyone so much as inclined their head in the direction of his study, he knew the foreboding aura that emanated from its closed door and the painful ticking of the grandfather clock, a busily scratching quill or lazily turned pages which became deafening in the silence, taking on a uniquely threatening quality. The fact that anyone dared burst in and start making demands and very serious accusations so offhandedly, all for the prize of a bloody party invite – he would dismiss the eventuality if he didn't have the three children he did under his roof; there was a reason pureblood families were run in similar manners – the regimented routines, constant superfluous tutorage, firm boundaries and high expectations – the power of these wizard folk and the disastrous consequences accidental magic could cause, the sharp minds that need constant stimulation lest they turn awry and the historic inbreeding which had a tendency to spawn callous, hardlined and extreme individuals who could only be led by a strong figurehead. Take a young Tom Riddle, half Gaunt and by implication a halfblood of an ancient family; like a racing thoroughbred these creatures needed careful handling. Left in an orphanage to the devices of a muggle society… there was no mystery as to why he had grown into the dark wizard that he had and not one wizard raised an eyebrow once they discovered he was raised by muggles. The children of the manor were not just purebloods, not just of the sacred twenty-eight, not just from one of the three noble houses, but they were under the authority of Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and amongst other things, this meant that they lived for the sole reason to be a royal pain in his rear.

"If I agree to your demands, will you leave me in peace?" managed Lucius who was positively vibrating with self-restraint that could be argued, Heredis did not deserve of him.

"I live and die by my word, godfather"

"I asked you a question, girl"

"Of course, godfather. As you wish"

"I shall owl the Nott boy, he will hear within the hour."

"I thought you said you didn't live to serve me?" asked Heredis as she left the room triumphantly. Women, they could never just ask, could they? There always had to be an unnecessary drama, it was the natural order of thing he supposed. Men and women, the thespians and their keepers.