Wolviegurl :: Thank you! I actually can't wait to start on the next chapter. =)
Valentina, exhausted, collapsed on the large Victorian couch in Chateau de Leon's study. Though she greatly enjoyed being at Hogwarts, she always looked forward to returning to her English estate. This time, however, she was too troubled over what Granger's cat had told her to fully enjoy her homecoming. So Sirius Black isn't a mass murderer and Peter Pettigrew is still alive? She asked herself. It still doesn't explain how either of them are still on the loose from the Ministry. It's almost as if that damn cat hadn't given me all the details―
"Good evening, young mistress." Valentina looked over and grinned at a beaming house-elf.
"Hey, Dobby," she greeted. "How are you?" To her surprise, Dobby's large, bat-like ears began to droop and the smile faded off his face.
Concerned, the young Corleone sat up and asked, "What's wrong? And why aren't you wearing the house-elf uniform?"
"Many, many apologies, young mistress, but Dobby returned the uniform that the Corleone family had provided so kindly. Dobby thinks this is not the right place for Dobby to be."
"If the work is too much for you―"
"Dobby is enjoying the work very much, young mistress," he assured her. "Dobby is proud to work under the great Corleone family, but..." He quickly broke eye contact with her, but not before she saw what had been troubling him.
"So... my house-elves are giving you a hard time?" Dobby squeaked with surprise and covered his face. "Oh, don't be like that. I can just order them to leave you alone."
"Please," he began, dropping to his knees and giving her an imploring look. "Dobby wishes the young mistress fires him. Dobby cannot have the young mistress force other house-elves to treat him kindly when Dobby is at fault when he asks for pay."
"Come on, Dobby. It's not a big deal." But he could not be dissuaded. Fine, she thought. If he wants to work somewhere else, I won't stop him. We have dozens of house-elves anyway. But... Sighing, Valentina reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a small money-pouch.
"Take this, then," she said, tossing it to him. "It's going to be hard finding work... it'll help a bit. If you need more, don't be afraid to ask me..." Dobby looked at her incredulously while his large eyes filled with tears. "Don't start―"
"The young mistress is always so kind to poor little Dobby!" He wailed. Valentina forced herself not to smile as he went on praising her unending kindness.
Balthazaar looked around at the roses surrounding the greenhouse. The climbing roses had grown to their full height, covering the trellis with intricately weaving vines of spiky thorns and delicate red buds. Small white roses peeked out of dark green bushes like stars in the night sky. Valentina had returned from Hogwarts the night before. He had missed her dearly and couldn't wait to see her and hear what she had to say about her school year. He wiped the sweat from his brow and left the hot greenhouse to get a cool drink from the Chateau's kitchen. As soon as he entered Chateau de Leon, Balthazaar spotted a tall, dodgy-looking wizard. He wore all black and the expression on his face was far from friendly. The two locked eyes and immediately reached out to grab their wands.
"Expelliarmus!" bellowed the stranger before Balthazaar could even open his mouth. The young wizard went flying out the door and onto the hard path leading to the Chateau's entrance.
"Master, no!" He heard Valentina shriek. Balthazaar's body ached. The back of his head throbbed. That's her Master? He groaned inwardly. He sat up and trudged back into the Chateau, stowing his wand back into his pocket.
"Are you okay?" Valentina asked him, concerned.
"Chuffed," he replied, glaring at the sneering wizard―Valentina's Master.
"My apologies," he said mockingly, looking at Balthazaar up and down with a critical eye. "I wasn't aware that my pupil hired a... grounds-keeper for the chateau." Balthazaar nodded but said nothing.
"Oh, yeah," Valentina chuckled nervously. "I forgot to tell you... Balthazaar, this is Master Snape, my tutor. Master, this is Balthazaar." She looked from one to the other. "Um, Master? Will we be in the study today?"
"Wouldn't you prefer your lesson be taken outdoors?" He asked.
"Definitely," she grinned. "Let me just go upstairs to grab a sunhat. I'll meet you outside, okay?" The two wizards stood silently as the young heiress rushed up the stairs.
"Balthazaar, is it?" Snape sneered. "How old-fashioned. Do you have a surname to match?"
"Draconius," Balthazaar replied, watching as the older wizard narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.
"I've never heard of that name. Are you muggle-born, perhaps?"
"No," Balthazaar replied, keeping his voice steady. Snape raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the approaching Valentina.
"The girl watches the lazy peasant," drawled Severus, watching as Valentina frowned in deep thought. He held in a smirk as Balthazaar, who was working nearby, had turned red with embarrassment.
"Puella spectabat ignavos rusticos," she finally said.
"You've forgotten, my dear, that the adjective comes after the noun it modifies," he corrected. She looked at him strangely, as he was usually severe with careless mistakes, but she smiled and tried again.
"Puella spectabat rusticos ignavos," she repeated correctly.
"Very well," Severus nodded. "I do believe it's time for lunch." She beamed as house-elves appeared with trays of food and turned to the direction of the young grounds-keeper. "Balthazaar!" she called. "Come have lunch with us!" To Severus' annoyance, he accepted the invitation and joined them.
With feigned curiosity, he stated, "My dear, you still haven't explained how you happened to hire your grounds-keeper." Sheepishly, Valentina told him how Balthazaar had saved her from a werewolf during her short-lived adventure in the forest surrounding the Corleone estate. Afterwards, ready for a harsh scolding, she ducked her head guiltily. Severus, however, frowned and looked towards the forest as if he expected a werewolf to come pouncing out. He knew the estate was protected from intruders; unless invited, no one could enter Chateau de Leon―even if they wandered the forests until the end of time.
"Apparently," Severus began, giving Valentina a scathing look. "Being attacked the first time did nothing to prevent you from wandering the forests again." Valentina blushed. He turned to Balthazaar, who hadn't spoken since he had joined them.
"So you're a wizard, then," Severus said disdainfully, eyeing his muggle attire. "Not a trained one, I presume, but a wizard nevertheless." The young wizard's eyes, filled with shame and anger, flicked upwards at him.
"I know enough," was all he said. Severus sneered and the three continued their lunch.
"I suggest you stop lurking in doorways, Valentina," the young heiress heard her Master utter from the study. "It's not a good habit. If you need to speak to me, then, by all means, knock like a proper lady and enter." Making a face, Valentina opened the door and sauntered in, the end of her red nightgown trailing behind her. Professor Snape was sitting on an armchair in front of the roaring fireplace where her father's handsome, smiling head sat. She curtsied to both and sat opposite the fireplace as well.
"How'd you know I was outside the door?" She whined.
"It was getting too quiet in the house," he replied sarcastically. "Anyway, your father and I were discussing the arrangements for World Cup next month." She grinned and rushed into details about the event.
"Oh, it's so exciting! The last time I went to the World Cup was when it was held in Spain. There were tons of people and food and excitement and you're absolutely going to love―" Her father coughed loudly.
"My dearest daughter," he began, frowning a little. "Your Master cannot attend the World Cup with you." Her grin fading in degrees, the young heiress looked at her father and then to her Master.
"But you promised!" She cried. "I can't go to the World Cup without you!"
"Valentina," her Master began, looking slightly annoyed. "I must return to Hogwarts at the end of the month, by order of the Headmaster." Valentina scowled. If Godfather needs my Master to do something, it has to be important, she thought grudgingly. But what about me?
"Mija, wouldn't you like to invite your friends instead?" Her father suggested. Sighing, Valentina felt defeated.
"I guess," she replied. "I need more tickets, though."
"Anything for you, princessa."
"Thank you, Daddy," she sighed. Giving her Master an apologetic look, her father bade them both a good night and disappeared.
"I'm going to bed," Valentina huffed. She was about to storm off when he called after her. It wasn't the way her Master called for her, but the fact that he had done so at all. The frowning heiress looked over her shoulder at him. He strode over and took hold of her elbow.
"I'll take you to bed," he said thickly.
"You're coming to bed with me?" She asked brightly. He scowled at her. "I'm only joking." She gave him a half-hearted smile and stayed silent as the pair walked down the lit corridors to her bedroom. To her delighted surprise, he tucked her in and took a seat in the armchair at her bedside. She glanced over at him, noting that, although his expression remained blank, his troubled eyes gave him away.
"Cur etiam hic es?" She suddenly said, asking him why he was still there. As if realizing where he was for the first time, he sat at attention and cleared his throat.
"You do realize that I wouldn't accompany you to the World Cup even if I could," he stated matter-of-factly. Although her parents saw nothing wrong with Master Snape accompanying her to a public event, Valentina was aware that he definitely did. And anyway, she thought. A Gryffindor student hanging out with the head of Slytherin house is probably the biggest taboo―even though I could care less about House rivalry...
"I know," she shrugged, giving him a wry smile. "I just like the thought of you with me." For a second, she caught the expression of pity on his face, but it was only for a second. He stood up to leave.
"Promise me you'll never wander the forest again."
"All right," replied Valentina, caught off guard.
"Do I have your word?" He snapped.
"Yes, Master Snape." He leaned over and she felt his lips brush her forehead ever so lightly before he left. She slept well that night.
It was a little over a month since Balthazaar had been introduced to Valentina's Master. And every day since then, his dislike for the older, sneering wizard grew more and more. He was under the suspicion that Snape would purposely hint to Valentina of Balthazaar's incompetence as a wizard. It would've bothered him more if Valentina scorned him as well, but she was always quite nice to him and smiled whenever they crossed paths. As Balthazaar trimmed the hedges around the front garden, he heard a high-pitched scream from inside the chateau. Alarmed, he immediately burst in through the doors and ran toward Valentina's bedroom, where the scream was coming from. Snape was standing in front of her closed door, glaring murderously.
"Open the door this instant, Valentina," he bellowed, knocking hard. The heavy oak door remained shut, but neither dared to use magic to try and open it.
"No!" She cried from the other side. "I'm not coming out! I'm never coming out!"
"What is the matter with you, you insufferable child?" Snape spat. Hearing no answer, the heiress' irate tutor stormed back to the guest wing, ignoring the young wizard as he walked past. Balthazaar tentatively stepped from behind the corner and nervously knocked on the door.
"Miss?" He called out gently. "Miss, is there something wrong?" He heard shuffling from the other side and waited until finally, the door opened. The curtains covering the great windows were drawn and the lights were dim, giving the usually-bright room an eerie feel. Even the portraits of herself on the walls were looking somber.
"Shut the door behind you," Valentina said coldly. He did so and shoved his hands in his pockets, not quite knowing what to do. Upon looking up, he realized that she was wearing a scarf which covered the lower half of her face.
"Are you feeling all right, Miss?" He asked, concerned.
"No, I'm not feeling all right!" She ripped the scarf away and glared at him. "Look at this and tell me that I should be feeling all right." Balthazaar stared at her pretty face, bemused, and then zeroed in on the bit she was pointing at. He blinked. Alas, he spotted the cause of the morning's boisterous commotion: a small blemish on the heiress' chin. She whirled around and faced her vanity mirror.
"It's disgusting, isn't it?" She sniffed with disdain as she looked at her reflection. "I can't go to my lesson and have him see me like this." Then why did she open the door to me? Balthazaar asked himself, feeling a twinge of jealousy. Because I'm only the poor grounds-keeper? Valentina sauntered over to her bed and buried herself under the covers. His jealousy quickly disappeared. He was ashamed of being jealous when he knew that he never even had the chance.
Without thinking, he blurted, "Miss, I wouldn't care to see you like this every day." She poked her head out from the covers and studied him.
"With the deformity on my chin?"
"It's only a pimple, Miss. And I doubt anything could ruin how pretty you are." He could feel his cheeks burning and his hands shaking a bit. Momentarily, she looked a taken aback, but soon gave him a small smile.
"That means a lot coming from you," she said, slowly submerging back into the depths of her covers. "I just wish he'd say the same."
Severus examined his usual guest suite as if he hadn't been there hundreds of times. The morning's ruckus had caused him to ponder over things―mostly Valentina. Setting aside her terrible temper, her fiery spirit and Gryffindor-esque personality reminded him of Lily. But there was so much more of Valentina that was both different and charming. One day, she will be one of the most important people in the magical world―maybe even the most important. He closed his eyes and frowned. And where shall I be in all this? He had lost Lily to Potter, but maybe... Did fate purposely have him cross paths with Valentina for this very reason? She loved him already. And now, Severus could safely say that he had also grown quite fond of her. With time as an opposing force, he wasn't sure if the relationship between them could evolve into anything more than Master and pupil. To Severus' annoyance, Valentina's grounds-keeper had burst into the suite. He hated the fact that Valentina was so careless as to hire a stranger into Chateau de Leon. Severus had seen the immature feelings of infatuation in the young man's eyes whenever he looked at Valentina. It worried him to think of what may happen between them if he himself weren't there to keep Valentina's mind occupied.
"What do you think you're doing here?" He snapped. Balthazaar's eyes nervously took in the dreary atmosphere of the room before answering.
"I―er―Miss Corleone needs a potion," he said.
"The little heiress needs to grow up and learn how to speak instead of screaming like a spoiled child," Severus responded coldly. Fire burned behind the young wizard's eyes.
Through clenched teeth, he said, "She just didn't want you to see, Sir."
"See what?" Severus snapped, annoyed.
"She's got a bit of acne on her chin, is all. But she's sensitive about you seeing―"
"That girl," he snarled, whipping out his wand to conjure a small, potted plant and several bottles. "Apparently being a witch means nothing to her. Did she send you here, boy?"
"No... I―er―came to ask on my own." The Potions Master eyed him for a moment.
"Very well, then." He gestured to the potted plant. "You know what that is, don't you?" The young wizard shook his head. "I'm not surprised. You're as useless as a common muggle. It's a Bubotuber Plant. Squeeze the swellings on the vine and collect the pus in those bottles. Use dragonhide gloves, you fool. The pus will burn your hands." Severus would've easily done the task himself, but he didn't want to miss the opportunity of watching Balthazaar struggle with something so simple (simple to a real wizard, that is). After a long hour, Balthazaar had collected enough Bubotuber Pus to fill several bottles and had taken one to bring to Valentina.
"That pus needs to be diluted first, you idiot," Severus hissed, snatching the bottle from his hands. "Lest you want her whole face covered in boils." Balthazaar paled and anxiously watched as Severus expertly measured and poured enough water and other things into the bottle.
"I think she'd rather have you bring it to her," said the young wizard.
"So..." Narrowing his eyes, Severus thought for a moment. "You go through all the trouble of acquiring the Bubotuber Pus for my dear pupil, but refuse to reap the benefits? Why?"
"Miss Corleone fancies you, sir." It was a simple statement, but Balthazaar had said it with a sort of reluctance that made Severus smirk triumphantly.
"I see." With the bottle in his hand, he stood up and walked towards the door. "Oh, and by the way―" he turned to face him again. "I've done a bit of research on the Draconius family. Marrying into power and wealth seems like the only way to restore your name to its former glory, isn't it?" Balthazaar said nothing, so Severus continued. "A pity you'd rather lose your chance to someone who will always see her as a mere lovesick child. You're a pathetic fool. A coward." Without a second glance, Severus turned and walked away. Only as a precaution, he thought, rubbing his left forearm. In case fate has other plans for me.
"Master," Valentina whined in Latin, giving him a well-practiced pout. "Do you have to leave now?" She noted approval in his eyes. Her Latin dictation wasn't as natural as his, but she knew he was proud of her improvement.
"I shall see you at Hogwarts soon," he replied, also in Latin. For a moment, it seemed as though he was glaring at someone behind her, but there was only Balthazaar by the greenhouse, so she dismissed it.
"I know, but you have to pretend you hate me," she giggled.
"It's not as difficult as you may think."
"You're joking right?" She laughed. His expression was as blank as ever. "Right? Master!" Finally, a faint hint of a teasing smile played on his lips. She felt relieved.
"When are your friends arriving?" He asked, emphasizing the word 'friends' with a light scoff.
"This afternoon," she replied, frowning. "So I guess you have to leave now..."
"Naturally."
"They'll think you're trying to recruit me into your Slytherin club," she teased. He smirked at her. Valentina didn't want him to leave. He had been so nice to her during his stay; she felt that if her Master left now, he would return to his usual, cold self by the time she returned to Hogwarts.
"Behave and stay out of trouble tomorrow," he told her, giving her a light kiss on the forehead.
"Yes, Master."
"Don't wander off by yourself."
"Yes, Master."
"Do nothing you think is heroic. Your lack of careless judgment astonishes me to no end."
"Master, I―" He gave her a stern look. "Yes, Master."
"Very well. Vale, deliciae," he said before touching the portkey.
"Wait! Master I love―" but he was gone before she even opened her mouth. Sighing, Valentina turned to find house-elves peeking out from various shrubs and garden statues.
"What?" She snapped. "I was going to tell him that I love the candy at Honkledonkle's and if he could bring some back for me." The Corleone servants giggled in response. "Shut up and get back to work or I'll give y'all a two-week vacation."
"Welcome to Chateau de Leon," grinned Valentina as her friends stepped out of the fireplace. The three witches dusted off their robes and looked around in awe.
"Oh, what a high ceiling!" Cried Heather.
"This room alone is probably as big as my house," Helena stated, impressed.
"Valentina, who is that gorgeous hunk outside?" Flora giggled, looking out the window. Immediately, Heather and Helena joined her and the three giggled and whispered amongst themselves. Valentina frowned.
"Who's outside?" She asked, finally rushing over as well. It was only Balthazaar.
"Oh!" She laughed. "That's my grounds-keeper. Balthazaar."
"Notice how she says, 'my grounds-keeper' instead of, 'the grounds-keeper'?" whispered Helena to Heather and Flora. Valentina blushed.
"Well, I did hire him," she said defensively. As if sensing four pairs of eyes staring at him, Balthazaar looked up, making all four girls dive for the ground in giggles.
"So he's not your boyfriend or anything?" Heather asked thoughtfully.
"Not in a million years," Valentina scoffed, rolling her eyes.
"Introduce us to him, then," Flora demanded with a wink. Sighing exasperatedly, the young heiress led her friends to the garden where Balthazaar was using his wand to fix a broken shovel. To her surprise, he looked up, blinked, and immediately turned red.
"Balthazaar!" She called out. "These are my friends from school: Flora, Heather, and Helena." The three surrounded him and began talking all at once.
"Valentina's never mentioned you before―"
"Probably trying to keep you all to herself―"
"A miracle she hasn't scared you off with her temper yet―" Balthazaar gave her a helpless look, turning even more red. She grinned at him and winked. I would've never believed he'd be so shy around girls, she thought, finally taking a moment to study him. He was tall―as tall and broad-shouldered like her Master. Unlike her Master, however, he was barrel-chested and had arms as muscular as her father. His face was handsome, too. He gave the girls a nervous but genuine smile, showing off a cute dimple she had never noticed before.
"I forgot to tell you," Heather said to Valentina as Helena and Flora bombarded Balthazaar with trivial questions. "Colin phoned me the other night―"
"Phone?" Valentina echoed questioningly.
"It's this thing muggles use to talk to each other," Heather explained. "My mum and I don't use it, but my dad needs it for work. Anyway, he phoned me to tell you that Tristan had bought him a ticket already."
"You're kidding!" Valentina pouted.
"Nope! And get this―they're supporting Bulgaria!"
"Shut up!" Valentina gasped. "B-But don't they know my family sponsors the Irish team?"
"The Bulgarians have Viktor Krum on their side," Helena stated, joining the conversation. They watched as Flora flirted casually with the still-shy Balthazaar.
"So?" Valentina scoffed. "Lynch is one of the best seekers I've ever met."
"You've met Aiden Lynch, Ireland's seeker?" gasped Helena. Valentina pinched her cheek playfully.
"You have yet to witness all the amazing things I can do as a Corleone," she crooned, making Helena frown. "Anyway, we're all going to meet them tomorrow. We're sitting in the Top Box and celebrating with the Irish team after the match―whether or not they win. But I have to tell my daddy that we've got an extra tick―" Her eyes wandered over to Balthazaar, who was showing Flora the wide variety of roses he had planted. "On second thought, I think my daddy would be pleased that I've gotten us a chaperone." Her two friends exchanged glances and shrugged.
Yawning, Valentina led her four sleepy companions to their campsite. It was at least six hours before the match, but she wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Finally, she spotted it―the familiar large, silk tent with brilliantly-colored peacocks strutting about at the front. It was too overly-extravagant to go unnoticed by the muggle site-manager, but she didn't care. That's what anti-muggle security is for, Valentina thought. Silvanus Corleone, as prideful as his daughter, loved showing the world that the Corleone family had far more privileges than others.
"Good morning, mija," Valentina's father greeted as she rushed up to hug him. It was strange to see him in muggle attire. But, clad in dark-wash jeans, a collared, button-up shirt, and a black leather jacket, Silvanus Corleone looked as dashing as ever. Helena, Heather, and Flora nearly swooned when he smiled at them all.
"Good morning, daddy!" Valentina squealed, kissing him on both cheeks. Although she loved her mother more than any person could possibly love a parent, Valentina felt as though she shared more commonalities with her father and was always glad when he visited. She introduced her father to her friends. He was a bit wary of Balthazaar as chaperone, but she assured him that he was as competent as any auror on the job.
"I have some aurors nearby," Silvanus told Valentina later. "You and I would enjoy taking the risk, but your mother would kill me if I had left you with only one wizard for protection." She pouted but, for the sake of her friends' safety, decided not to argue.
"You look just like your father!" Flora cried as soon as he disapparated. The five of them lounged about in the kitchen inside the large tent.
"Really?" She asked, amused. "I've never noticed."
"Surely you're kidding," laughed Helena. "If you were older, I think you two would pass for twins! What does your mother look like?" Valentina gestured towards the study across the hall to the large, hanging portrait of the present Señor and Señora Corleone. The four of them stared at it, bemused.
"But the portrait doesn't do her justice," Valentina smiled, picturing her mother's golden hair and beautiful blue eyes. Pretty as Valentina was, Isabella and Pierre Coeur de Lion had often teased her for inheriting her father's dark features instead of her mother's fair characteristics. But then again, she thought to herself. I'm a Corleone, and they're not. She had finally noticed Balthazaar shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the four girls began to gossip.
"I think there are more people on the grounds now," Valentina suddenly said. "Let's all take a walk and buy souvenirs, okay? And then we'll come back and paint our faces." She felt the corner of her mouth twitch as Balthazaar let out a relieved sigh.
"Look who it is, everyone." The voice had an American accent, so the three girls paid no attention and walked on ahead, but Balthazaar's pace slowed as he noticed that Valentina had stopped walking and turned to the direction of the voice.
"What's up, Johnny?" She drawled in an unfriendly voice.
"Long time no see, babycakes." A good-looking wizard stepped forward, a small group of American wizards and witches behind him. He was smoking a cigarette and puffed a cloud of smoke over his shoulder. "I see you've made a friend here."
"I see you've got the same shitty friends you've always had," she laughed meanly. The group behind the wizard had begun to glare at her venomously. He ignored her.
"Aren't you gonna introduce us?"
"Of course," she sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Balthazaar, this is John Nuttleswink heir of the slowly-disappearing Nuttleswink company." Balthazaar kept his hand in his pocket, fingering his wand. Valentina was being a smart-ass and he knew this couldn't possibly end well. John's yellow eyes flashed.
"You're still a bitch, I see." Balthazaar reached forward and held onto Valentina's elbow.
"Come on, miss," he whispered.
"You two an item or something?" John snarled, stepping up to Balthazaar. He was a head shorter and a bit less bulky than the young wizard, but he looked like he knew a few ugly spells.
"What?" Asked Balthazaar, not quite understanding the question.
"Are you two fuckin' each other?" John said slowly, as if Balthazaar were stupid. The group behind him snickered loudly.
"You're sick," Valentina said disgustedly.
"Me?" John laughed, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He blew it out in Balthazaar's face. "I'm not the one fuckin' some British, wizard-wannabe." He turned to him and sneered. "You look too comfortable in those muggle clothes, Balthazaar. The fuck kinda name is that anyway?" He and his friends laughed. Balthazaar blushed and tried to pull Valentina away as gently as he could.
"Miss―" he began. Valentina wouldn't budge.
"I'm not fuckin' anyone Johnny," she hissed. "And you've got some nerve making fun of Balthazaar."
"It's fine, miss," he whispered. "Let's just catch up with your friends."
"You think I'm jealous?" John laughed. "Of what, him? Look, babycakes, if you want a real man, come by my place. You know where I live, right? Better yet, come by my tent after the match and I'll let you ride on my Firebolt―" Balthazaar had suddenly punched John in the face, knocking him out. He had enough of that slimeball's mouth. In a matter of seconds, John's group had gotten to their feet and Balthazaar had drawn out his wand, but five wizards―the Corleone aurors―immediately apparated between the two groups.
"Quite enough of that," growled a fierce-looking wizard. "Off you go. Both of you." Balthazaar led Valentina away from the scuffle.
"That was amazing!" She gushed. "I doubt he even saw it coming!" Frustrated, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Balthazaar was not proud of what he had done; he would have let John insult him all day if he could. The only reason he punched John was because his language was too vulgar and disgusting for Valentina to be hearing... and partly because Balthazaar just wanted him to shut up.
"Miss, please don't―"
"That was really brave of you." She batted her thick, black eyelashes at him. Balthazaar felt trapped. He had seen her do the same on her Master when he would reprimand her. I dunno how Snape manages to resist her charm, Balthazaar said to himself.
The Corleone tent was filled with excitement. The match had been spectacular. And, although the snitch was caught by Krum, Lynch was treated as the star of the party. Balthazaar sat on a barstool a few feet away from where Valentina, still dressed in her muggle attire, was dancing with Colin Creevey, the muggle-born wizard they had met up with after the match. Colin's friend Tristan Reagan was dancing with Helena off to the side. The other two girls were chatting animatedly with some of the vivacious Irish Chasers. It was a pleasant change to see her in something other than a pleated skirts or billowing, red robes. Clad in a white hoodie and dark-wash jeans, Valentina seemed like any other normal teenaged girl. He wondered how she would be like had she been born a muggle, though he couldn't imagine her any less pompous or superior.
"Fancy a pint, mate?" Grinned the drunken Keeper, Darren O'Hare.
"You're all right," he replied, holding up his bottle of butterbeer. He had never felt so content as he did now. So this is how it feels to be a Corleone? He asked himself. Balthazaar had never even dreamt of being at the World Cup, and yet he found himself partying with the heiress of the Corleone empire and the whole Irish National Quidditch team. His brain was still trying to take it all in.
"She's a pretty lass, isn't she?" Lynch asked, gesturing towards Valentina.
"Of course," replied Balthazaar.
"Señor Corleone must worry 'bout her every second, eh? But you seem like a good lad."
"What?" Balthazaar choked. "We're not―I mean, I'm not her boyfriend."
"Sure ya aren't," he winked, getting up to dance. "Treat her well, yeah?" Shaking his head, Balthazaar took another swig of butterbeer and thought about how lucky he was to at least find himself in the presence of Valentina as often as he did.
Exhausted, the five teenagers in the Corleone tent slept soundly in their beds. The Irish team and whoever else was invited to the party had finally left when the Corleone aurors shooed them off. The night was quiet, still. The young heiress, however, was continuing the party in her head. Valentina dreamt of red banners waving as she paraded down a crowded street. Sitting upon a large beast, she laughed and waved jovially at the cheering crowd. Suddenly, she saw him―her Master. He was running alongside the float, trying to get her to stop, but the beast had begun to run. The crowd flew into a panic and screams filled the air. "Wake up, deliciae," she heard him say. She let go of the beast's red mane and felt herself fall down, down, down... into the arms of her Master. Her eyes flew open and she found herself being carried out of the tent by Balthazaar.
"I'm sorry, miss, but we have to go―" There came a loud bang coming from behind them. She jumped out of his arms and, wand in hand, stared at the repulsive scene. Some of the tents had been set on fire. Hers was all right, but the sleeping peacocks were now gone.
"Miss Corleone," yelled Reynaldo San Torro, one of the family's aurors. "Follow me into the woods! Ahora mismo!" Quickly, Valentina and her friends followed San Torro to the thick woods.
"The rest of my team had gone to help the Ministry," he explained in Spanish as they huddled in the trees. Valentina glanced at her friends; all were wide-eyed and scared.
"What's going on, Rey?" She asked anxiously, peeking out from behind the bushes.
"Death Eaters," he spat in English. "They have one of the site-managers and his wife and kids up there." Valentina felt sick.
"Can't I help them?"
"No. Quedarse," he barked, ordering her to stay put. She said nothing, flinching as a loud bang came from the trees nearby. San Torro swore and stood up, wand at the ready.
"Guillen will take my place shortly," he said. "I'm going to clear the perimeter. Señor Corleone is returning with your mother." He looked at her. "Do not move. Entiendes?" She nodded. Satisfied, San Torro disapparated. A flash of green appeared at the direction of the crowd and her friends had turned to look. Without hesitating, Valentina stepped into the shadows and ran towards Tristan's campsite. I'm just going to bring them to where we are, she thought. It's safer there. Especially for Colin. Her heart was beating fiercely at the thought of her dear friend running into the Death Eaters. The feeling burned motivation into her veins as if it approved of her actions and was urging her on. Amidst the excitement of her altruistic quest, she had accidentally run into a group of drunken wizards.
"'ello, girly," one hiccuped. "You wouldn't 'appen to be a muggle, would ya?" The others laughed.
"No," she replied, taking a step back.
"I think she's lyin'," laughed one of the larger men. Valentina glared at him. "If you ain't a muggle, why are you runnin' from them Death Eaters?"
"I'm not going to waste my time talking to a bunch of fuckin' drunks," snapped Valentina. She stepped aside and found herself face-to-face with a tall, heavily-bearded wizard. He grabbed her chin with his hand.
"Filthy mouth ya got there, but ain't you a pretty one," he leered.
"Fuck off," she snapped, pushing him away. He scowled and charged at her, but a jet of red sparks hit him in the chest. He fell on his back, stunned.
"What the―" Valentina turned to find the men being stunned one-by-one. She took her wand out and looked around, but suddenly, a very bright flash of green erupted in the sky across the clearing. Looking up, she found herself at a loss for words. She had seen that mark before. Her father had shown her dozens of newspaper clippings from the time He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers had caused panic all over the world. She looked over and saw the group of masked Death Eaters fleeing the scene, running into the woods right where she stood.
"Shit," she swore. Panicked, her legs felt as frozen as ice. All of a sudden, a pair of strong arms encircled her waist and dragged her behind a large bush.
"Get off―" the stranger covered her mouth with a large hand. The Death Eaters had stopped only a few feet from where she and the stranger were crouched.
"The Dark Lord's mark!" Whispered one of them.
"But does that mean... the Dark Lord has returned?" Valentina felt the stranger stiffen behind her. Shouting arose in the distance and the Death Eaters disapparated. She was about to let out a relieved sigh when she felt herself being pulled into the sickening motion of a side-along apparation.
"Goddamn it, would you give me a warning next time?" Valentina cried as soon as she felt the stranger release her. She looked around and found herself in the dark.
"Lumos," muttered the familiar voice of Balthazaar. She realized she was back where Reynaldo had left her and her friends. Remarkably, Tristan and Colin were with them, too.
"Valentina, where the hell have you been?" Cried Helena, pulling her into a quick hug. Valentina blinked stupidly. How the hell did I get here? She asked herself.
"The other auror went to look for you," Flora said, biting her bottom lip and playfully punching Valentina in the arm. "We had just turned around for a second and you were gone!"
"I was going to look for Colin and Tristan―but, I'm here now, aren't I?"
"You're so reckless sometimes," Helena scolded.
"Tristan and Colin got here right after you disappeared," Heather explained.
"Were you really looking for us?" Colin asked excitedly. Valentina beamed at him.
"Of course!" She said proudly, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I heard the Death Eaters were attacking the muggles, and you were the first person I thought of."
"I'm muggle-born, too, Valentina," Tristan prompted.
"Oh, come off it," snapped Helena. "Your parents work for the Ministry."
"Whatever," Tristan blushed. "Some strange bloke apparated us here." Everyone looked at him and Colin quizzically.
"It's true!" Colin added. "A robed wizard came into our tent, grabbed us, and the next thing we knew, we were standing here in our pajamas."
"Señorita Corleone," gasped a young, disheveled auror. "I had been looking all over for you."
"Hey, Guillen," Valentina greeted brightly. "Sorry about that. I was exploring the woods a bit." He gave her a pleading look.
"I beg you not to go exploring alone again," he said. "Señor and Señora Corleone will be arriving shortly." She nodded and sat, deep in thought as her friends nervously chatted about the Dark Mark overhead. Looking up, she caught Balthazaar staring at her before blushing guiltily and looking away. He's so weird, she chuckled inwardly.
"Voldemort's Mark had been cast last night," stated Professor Dumbledore in a grave tone. "But I suspect you already knew that."
"Of course," replied Severus.
"And yours...?"
"More clear." The two continued to speak for awhile until Severus politely excused himself.
"She had run off again, I presume?" Asked the Headmaster as Severus opened the door to leave.
"I caught up to her before the Death Eaters arrived," Severus replied simply. And, in an almost-spiteful tone, he added, "Had she known more about it, she would have thought twice before doing anything so foolish."
"It will come to her naturally. Until then, we can only wait."
"And if I can't?" He turned to look into the calm, kind face of the old wizard.
"I see," he chuckled. "I only hope it would not interfere with the plan at hand." Severus nodded and rubbed his left forearm, thinking of some way he could ease the topic into a future conversation.