AN: Happy Sunday! As I'm sure everyone knows, we are seven days from Christmas! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Now, a bit of a warning: Christmas is on my normal update day. I have no clue if my life is going to be holiday madness or holiday chill because I'm working all week, so it could go either way. If madness sets in, the update might be next Monday. If everything is perfectly chill, this might get posted Christmas morning (before my daughter wakes up). Either way, everyone have a safe, happy, drama-free holiday, and I'm wishing all of you all the love and laughter and life that you can wring out of every minute.
She woke on the couch in the common room, the one that was unofficially 'theirs' in front of the fire. The same one where Abraxas had always held court.
Tom was wrapped around her and she could tell from the pale light filtering through the watery depths of the lake that it was daylight and rather bleak outside.
Next to the fire however, she was warm and wrapped in Tom's arms with a fluffy blanket she'd conjured the night before wrapped snuggly around them both. She and Tom had murmured to each other deep into the night after the party at Malfoy manor. Abraxas and Helena had offered to allow them to stay, but she'd been reluctant… Hermione had quietly urged Tom to return with her to Hogwarts despite the invitation. Abraxas might think his wife was under lock and key, but Hermione worried. Helga was pregnant and unbalanced, and that would make any woman dangerous.
Abraxas had understood her reluctance, and it made him look a little sad, but he'd mentioned he would be at Hogwarts before dinner…Headmaster Dippet allowed the blond nearly unlimited access to his alma mater.
Hermione tried to fight down a smirk. She wondered just how much of the Malfoy gold had been used to make certain that access to the school was never a question.
Tom moved restlessly as he woke. She leaned down and kissed his brow.
"Good morning sleepyhead."
He smiled and pulled her on top of his firm chest. She allowed herself a moment to simply breathe in his scent.
"Merry Christmas Tom."
He nuzzled her neck. "It really is."
She gave a self-mocking bark of laughter. "Really?" After everything she'd allowed him to see over the past few days, how could it be happy?
He kissed her lips lightly. She did a quick non-verbal spell over both of them because even in the magical world, morning breath was an issue, and she didn't want to ruin the moment.
His finger drew circles up and down her back. "This is the first Christmas I've woken up with you in my arms. Even in my sleep, I knew I wasn't alone."
She kissed him then, really kissed him. They came up for air eventually.
But underneath, she was cringing with guilt. He was a boy. One who had less that a real chance at life to begin with, and she'd blithely taken him into the lair of a madman…why? Because he'd insisted? Because he thought he wanted to go? Because he wanted to protect her, Because it probably seemed reasonable when one considered that technically they were the same age.
She sighed and pulled away from him. She should have kidnapped him and drug him to some isolated cottage somewhere. She could have taught him magic herself, and she would have found a way to provide for them. She could have brewed polyjuice and taken a blasted job as a muggle as far as that went.
But he'd needed her as a companion more than a provider or mentor. He'd needed someone on his own level to bond with.
She pushed away from him and plastered a smile on her face.
"Let's open our gifts and go to the main hall. I want to see Minerva and Hagrid."
Tom knew when there was something off about Hermione. She was his rock, his foundation. The single thing in the cosmos that he depended on. Any slight change in her was reason for investigation.
He could read her better than anyone, despite her talent for occlumency.
Right now, she was pretending that she didn't feel guilty.
She did a fine job of it too. They opened gifts, found Minerva and Hagrid, had breakfast, and then went out to the grounds where she built them all a winter wonderland to play in, complete with a working sled and an ice castle version of Hogwarts.
Her eyes were bright and she smiled as she used spells to make the sled (which had eight tiny reindeer attached) zip up and down the lanes. Minerva laughed as her black hair whipped behind her and her rosy cheeks nearly glowed in the cold air. Most of the rest of the children at the school quickly made their way into her creation, so the atmosphere was boisterous and happy.
She was trying so hard to make a Christmas for everyone. He could sense that her mind was troubled, but she was intently keeping those thoughts from intruding. He shrugged. It didn't seem that important to him, but if it was important to her…
Tom put his wand to work and aided the snow-filled wonderland as he could, adding a dragon that flapped his wings and singing pixies made of ice.
Professor Flitwick came out dragging Professor Merrythought with an indulgent Albus trailing behind.
"Look at this! Galatea, have you ever seen anything like it?"
The older witch shrugged. "I'm certain I have." She looked lost for a moment, and Tom fought against rolling his eyes. The fact that a subject like defense was left in the hands of someone who quite literally couldn't remember half her life was more than a little disturbing. Tom levitated his pixies closer for Flitwick to inspect in an attempt to draw his attention away from Hermione, but the smaller man would not be denied. He pulled her to one side and began feverishly discussing the charms and spells she'd used to create the miniature castle.
Merrythought frowned and wandered back into the castle.
Tom watched her go and turned to Albus. "Something needs to be done about her."
Albus nodded. "She isn't getting better. Even Dippett noticed."
Tom snorted and was about to ask if perhaps the muggles had come up with any treatments for whatever was ailing the defense professor, when a wickedly accurate snowball caught him in the chest.
Abraxas grinned as Tom pulled his wand. A full-fledged snow battle ensued. It began as a free for all, but alliances were quickly formed, and within ten minutes, Tom, Hermione, and Abraxas found themselves leading a group that consisted of Hagrid, Minerva, and a Hufflepuff Tom didn't know. On the other side was one of the other leaders of the knights (Triton Humperkdink) from Ravenclaw, and a number of Claws and their allies. The Ravenclaw common room was always the fullest at any holiday. The poor swots just couldn't seem to get over the lure of the library for anything as frivolous as Christmas.
Once the Slytherins allied, the rest didn't really stand a chance. Triton admitted defeat and Tom caught his eye as they shook hands. Good. Tom had noticed that the other young man had been collecting allies lately. Today's exercise should prove that resistance was a waste of resources, and nip the other boy's efforts in the bud. That was one battle that wouldn't be fought with magic in the years to come. Who knew that a snow war could be so useful?
Everyone was cold and slightly wet from the free-for-all so the majority of them found themselves in the castle after the fight. Both 'teams'' appropriated an unused classroom and conjured puffs to sit on while the older students helped the young with drying charms. Minerva shot a powerful one at Hagrid and his hair puffed out like a cotton ball. The easy-going boy laughed and hugged the little half-blood witch. Hermione disappeared into the kitchens and returned with a cauldron of hot cocoa floating behind her.
Abraxas was trying to look relaxed, but Tom could tell that something more was wrong.
So as the atmosphere relaxed, he whispered a few words to Hagrid, who nodded. A few minutes later, the boy began a long, rambling tale about visiting the Centaurs in the forest, and meeting up with a nasty surprise in the form of a young wyvern.
Tom caught Hermione's eye and jerked his head at Abraxas. The trio made their way out of the room with little fanfare. Minerva watched them go with a thoughtful expression, and Tom noticed that she distracted one of the younger ones when the first year might have looked their way. Excellent. The girl was subtle…well, for a Gryffindor at any rate.
Tom didn't take any chances; he escorted his cohorts to the Room of Requirement. As he paced three times before the doorway that wasn't currently visible, he thought he heard something…but then the quiet whisper was gone and he was concentrating on the place he needed; a safe place to speak. He led them into the room, a close copy of Abraxas' study. Tom smiled and set his wand with a quick tempus alarm. Abraxas raised an aristocratic brow. Tom Shrugged. "Christmas dinner comes but once a year. It seems like a shame to miss any of it." He turned to Abraxas. "I can tell there is something wrong. Tell us."
Abraxas Malfoy considered himself a rather observant wizard. But even he could admit that Tom far outstripped him.
Would he have noticed the unease behind the devil-may-care façade that Abraxas played, and played well?
Tom did. Not only that, he'd organized a quiet exit to make time to question it, a rather wise move on his part since the three of them were neck deep in conspiracy.
Abraxas tugged at the end of his hair. "Helga tried to escape." He turned to Hermione. "I wondered if you'd seen something like that."
She shook her head. "No. I t was just an abundance of caution. Helga is a liability."
Abraxas settled into one of the elegant wingback chairs the room had provided. "Mother caught her, but only just. The baby is fine…but he might not be next time. I wanted your advice. Do you think I could allow her more freedom? I don't want her struggling so much that she harms the child."
Tom frowned. "I wonder if a potion might not be a better solution. She obviously can't be trusted, but it wouldn't do her much harm to spend the rest of the pregnancy quietly resting…"
Hermione interrupted. "It might, and any of those potions will affect the child as well. He'd be born addicted, or worse, too weak to live."
Abraxas flinched. "Damn. What if I allow her visitors in exchange for good behavior?"
Hermione shrugged. "I suppose you might…if you could trust them not to help her escape."
"That excludes almost everyone she knows. She'll paint me as the villain…and the facts if selectively presented, back her up. I am keeping her under house arrest and denying her the right to a trial simply to avoid the press."
Tom shrugged. "Honestly, I think your greater crime might be hiding the fact that she killed her brother in cold blood."
Hermione cleared her throat, perhaps sensing an oncoming argument about family duty that Tom wouldn't truly understand. How could he? Abraxas fought down a wave of sadness for the younger man. Hermione had at least had family for a few years.
Hermione stood up. "This might sound mad, but I think I know of one person who might be able to help…well besides Perenelle and Albus, they're both trustworthy enough."
Tom grinned at her. "Nicholas isn't?"
Hermione snorted. "Nicholas would not be good company for her. Besides the fact that he would be tippling his sherry a bit more than he should, he doesn't suffer treacherous fools well.
Abraxas smirked at the description of his blushing bride. "Who does?"
Hermione's smile was not at all nice. "Another treacherous fool; one who is too afraid to disobey."
Returning to England as a spy had been a sop to Jean Marie's pride and everyone knew it. The humiliation of being tortured into incontinence and summarily obliviated…his fellow members of the inner circle had made certain he knew that the child had done so, and done so without blinking.
Whatever she had used, she was not the master that Grindelwald was. He was well enough the next day.
However, deep within himself, there was a new fear of his master and a new, budding respect for the girl. He did not understand why. Perhaps because he had learned to love pain under Gellert's tender care, and she was the first woman to use such a tool on his fair body.
To say that a summons to Hogsmead was unanticipated was to say that it was surprising when the sun rose in the west. His master's little pet commanded him and he felt the need to obey.
She met him in the curve of the road, shrouded in a cloak with a golden snake twined around her neck that eyed him balefully.
"Jean Marie."
He bowed his head slightly. "My…lady."
Her smile turned a touch cruel. "Don't annoy me. I have a job to do, and I need a helper. If you are very good and assist me in this, there will be a little glory left over for you as well."
He gnashed his teeth together. "And what, exactly would one such as yourself need my help with?"
She raised a brow. Child she might be, but she knew about his anger toward her, and she didn't seem to care. "I need to you to do exactly what you were build for. Be beautiful and distracting while I handle some business for our lord. Helga Malfoy is your assignment. I'll give you times and dates and you will pay her a visit. You will sit and drink tea, and be excellent company. If she tried to enlist your help in any endeavor, you will tell her she must wait until after the child is born."
He nodded. "If you tell me what you are after perhaps I could…"
"No." Her voice was sharp and it cut across his words like a razor. She seemed to calm herself and she looked into his eyes. "I assume you were told about the torture you endured at my hand and the fact that I erased your memory afterward."
He couldn't keep the snarl from his face. "Yes."
"Good. You'll notice that you didn't suffer the typical after-effects." He frowned. She seemed to take that as a confirmation.
"I was ordered to torture you. He didn't say I could not heal you afterward. And I knew that with assignment that having you quivering at my feet would be less than helpful. So here you are. Sane. Whole. Able to do exactly what I knew I would need to assign to you." She leaned toward his ear. "You are here because you are capable of doing what I ask. If you become incapable, there won't be any reason for me to hold back next time." She handed him a piece of parchment with dates and times in neat handwriting.
"When we meet in public, be sure to play your roll. Remember, I haven't graduated from Hogwarts, so dial down the charm a bit. We wouldn't want people to know exactly what a depraved little bastard you really are, now would we? Not when your usefulness is limited to your invitations to all the right drawing rooms."
He clutched the bit of parchment in his hand as he shook from her implied threats. He would obey.
Helga Malfoy groaned as she waddled to her favorite chair. She felt like cow. She was even leaking milk. Nothing had turned out right since that little bitch had warned Abraxas. She knew it was that bushy-headed little orphan. Who else? If it had been Helena who had discovered it, Helga would be under the imperious.
She huffed as the little monster in her womb caught her kidney. "Ouch! There isn't room enough for Quidditch in there!" She mock-snarled at her belly. "Wait until you get out!" She patted her rounded form and frowned as she considered her options.
She needed to escape. Her own life was in danger. The child could be a help or a hindrance, but she didn't believe Malfoy for a moment when he offered to send her to the Isle of Sappho. That was just an empty promise to get her to bide her time until the child was born and they could do away with her.
The child kicked her viciously again.
She put her hand over her stomach and he quieted. She smiled a little. She'd always known she would probably have a child (and the pregnancy and conception were just as disgusting and difficult as she'd feared) but she'd never actually imagined herself as a mother. Somehow, she'd expected the child to be spirited away once the whole birthing process was done and she wouldn't need to have much to do with the little beast except trot it out occasionally for her friends when they visited to show off whatever accomplishments the tutor drummed into the child's head.
But this…this connection as the child grew inside her. That was unexpected. She found her hands cradling her belly protectively when she woke. It was a bit disconcerting.
She poured herself a warm cup of tea (the pot was warded to prevent her from breaking it or using it as a weapon. Abraxas was so put out with her attempted escape that she was surprised he hadn't put her on bread and water.)
The door opened and the blond bane of her existence walked in. He eyed the teapot cautiously. "Helga, how do you feel today?"
She didn't speak. There was no point really.
Abraxas sighed and ran his fingers over his silky locks. "I have a proposition for you. In exchange for your promise that you will not harm yourself, the child, or anyone who enters this room, and of course with the caveat that you will not try to run away, I will arrange visitors for you."
That surprised her. "What?"
He sighed. "I'm not a monster Helga. I know that you, of all people, need human contact. It's one of the reasons why either mother or myself visit you every day…it's not simply as your warden. I understand that killing your brother, in your mind, was a form of self-defense. The court might even agree. As you know, I have no wish to bring it to trial to find out for certain. There is no reason for you to fear me, or fear for our child in my hands. If you make an unbreakable vow that you will not intentionally harm him, you'll be free to visit him, even if we divorce, or if you choose one of the other options we've discussed."
She wished she could believe him.
He seemed to notice the slight softening around her eyes. "I will give you all the freedom I can afford to give you. If you give me your wizard's oath that you will not try to escape, or ask your visitor to help you escape, I will allow you to have the first visit tomorrow at tea. Give the oath for this single visit, and let us begin to build some kind of trust between us."
She looked at his blue eyes and nodded. "I will not try to escape. I will not harm my guest or myself, unless the guest attempts to harm me or my child."
Abraxas' face brightened at her addition. "Very well. I leave you to rest. I'll have one of the elves bring you those scones you like."
She wrinkled her nose. "No. No more boysenberry. I loved them yesterday, but now the smell makes me want to vomit. Just ask them if they can make grape ice cream."
Abraxas paled. "Grape?"
She nodded. "It sounds mouthwatering, don't you think?"
He looked a little skeptical. "If you say so. I'll ask them to do their best."
Helga nodded as he walked out.
Abraxas broke into a grin. It had worked. For the next two days she would not hurt herself or the baby at least. Then he crinkled his nose. Now he just had to figure out if the house elves could procure grape ice-cream somewhere.
Yuck.
