Hello hello lovelies!
I've been massively busy, so I haven't been able to respond to all of your amazing reviews that you left on the last chapter. It honestly made me really happy, and it was brilliant hearing that you lovely lot were enjoying reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it.
Actually, I'm technically still updating on the same day I originally intended to post this chapter at the beginning of the month. The plan was to post chapter 58 tomorrow, but things are a bit crazy right now...and that chapter is a bit of a monster. A monster that doesn't wish to be tamed. So I may or may not be able to get it finished in time, if not, hopefully I'll get it done sometime this weekend x
Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
As always for Sable and Lais xxx
Abraxas Malfoy has a presence that instantly spills into the room, filling every available space that it can. The man's platinum blond hair is cropped close to his scalp, slicked back neatly, save for a few bangs that have escaped. His grey eyes sharply pierce right through you. Just as Dorea Potter is not a witch one wants to have as an enemy, Abraxas Malfoy is a wizard that is not to be trifled with. The two personalities seem to be silently at war with each other as they scrutinise the other.
Abraxas is a tall man—a smidge taller than Ronald Weasley—he has impeccable posture, and no movement he makes is without purpose. Despite the stature that automatically came with his family name, Abraxas had earned the respect of his peers and elders through sheer wit and charisma. It is a widely known fact that if you want something done well, you go to Abraxas.
It is an odd thing to stand across from two people you used to be rather close with, and to have a prickling feeling across your nape. There is a strange feeling in the air, almost as if there is a gaping chasm in between them which only seems to grow with every moment that passes.
Lucius respectfully steps back, allowing Theodus and Abraxas to properly approach the Potter Matriarch.
As Dorea calmly assesses Theodus, she can't help but think how he has aged extremely well—there is hardly a wrinkle on him. Theodus is also an imposing presence, and he has a similar build to Abraxas, with the exception that Theodus is somewhat bulkier than his lithe companion.
Theodus's nature is a quieter one, you can never tell exactly what he is thinking, and his ice blue eyes clinically dissect everything around him. Not to mention he is highly efficient, he has no time for nonsense or tomfoolery. Dorea supposed that is one reason why he was so attractive to Tom, why You-Know-Who would have seen him as a proficient tool to add to his repertoire. Pale, dark curls, a sharp jaw, and a slightly crooked nose—overall he is a very attractive man, yet there is this distinct sense of peril that clings to him.
"It hasn't been that long, my dear," Abraxas says with a crooked grin, right in front of her now, and he gently picks up her hand—the one clutching her wand—and places a suave kiss on the top of it. "Surely you remember the Ball that Julius Greengrass held not too long ago in his summer home in Nice—it feels like it was just yesterday."
"If by yesterday you mean almost eight years ago...then yes Darling, you would be correct," Dorea quips, withdrawing her hand gracefully, and politely taking a step backwards.
Dorea then turns her attention to Theodus, "Theodus. It's has been over a decade since I last laid eyes on you."
Theodus gives her a dry, tight-lipped smile. There is a tightness to his expression, as if he is very uncomfortable and trying his utmost best to conceal it. The wizard inclines his head in a blunt motion, "Dorea."
"I must say, this is a lovely surprise, and I'm delighted that you both appear to be in good health," Dorea tells them with a smile so sweet it would make your teeth ache.
"Lora Shacklebolt tells me that you and your wife are expecting your first child soon," Dorea tacks on, her bare feet sinking into her plush, crimson coloured carpet. The witch carefully regards the impassive man's reaction, but there is no outward indication of his true feelings.
Warily, Theodus subtlety nods his head, "that would be correct."
"I can imagine having a madman as a close friend will be a splendid influence on the little tyke," Dorea comments airily, gesturing in an absentminded fashion to her environs.
There is a long moment where everyone seems to hold their breath before Theodus casts a sharp eye Abraxas's way, "we should leave. We shouldn't have come."
Abraxas raises a hand, sending his companion a pointed look that speaks volumes, and unbeknownst to Dorea, he is reminding the wizard that this was his idea in the first place. Abraxas is speaking to Theodus, but he turns to face Dorea, "we can't leave just yet. We only just got here."
"It appears I've touched a nerve. What? Are you and Tom having issues lately," Dorea asks in a gentle, almost dreamy way.
Both men stiffen, eyes wide as she grabs a hold of their full, undivided attention.
"What did you just say?" Theodus whispers, acute horror presenting its way across his features.
"Oh, did you think you were the only one who knows things?" Dorea asks, the corners of her lips twitch upwards.
"Who told you?" Abraxas asks, but from his tone it is clear that it is a demand. He is disconcerted, and there is a spark of fear in his eyes. The men had clearly come here today thinking that they held all of the cards, and it is truly a delightful sight to see them try to regain their composure.
Lucius is in the corner now, lips clamped shut, and he silently drowns in viscous confusion, but he does not utter a peep. Truthfully, the other members of the room have forgotten about his presence entirely.
Dorea ambles away from the two wizards towards her desk, and as she walks around it, she lets her fingers trail across the polished mahogany. Dorea takes great care in placing her wand on her desk in front of her, and smoothes her hands across the backs of her thighs as she sits down in her comfy, black leather armchair—to ensure that her robes are properly tucked underneath her. The witch settles into her desk chair, shoulders back, and her fingers are in a steeple as they come to rest in her lap.
Despite the fact that she is physically on a lower elevation than the two wizards, her presence looms over them. "I take it we have a lot to discuss. I suggest you take a seat, gentlemen."
Dorea gestures to the two armchairs on the other side of her desk, and with a flick of her wand and a muttered incantation, she summons another armchair from the corner of the room. The three wizards hesitate, especially Lucius—the wizard feels leagues out of his depth amongst the giant presences he is sharing the room with.
Dorea narrows her eyes, "I know how to defeat him, and I also have a good idea where they are."
That draws their attention, and Lucius is the first to move—sitting on the armchair furthest to the left—and he sent a subtle nod Dorea's way, which she responds to with a small smile.
Abraxas and Theodus cautiously join Lucius, but they are rigid and clearly ill at ease. "What do you know?"
"I know if I was to walk into his secret little lair right now, and smite him from this earth, that he would return…maybe not tomorrow, or the day after, but he would," Dorea drawls, waving her hand in a grand, elusive fashion.
Abraxas looks as if a weight has been removed from his shoulders, and Theodus gasps for air as if he had been on the brink of drowning, and he has just broken the water's surface.
"He made you make an Unbreakable Vow, didn't he?" Dorea throws out a guess, she is grasping for straws a little, but from the tight grimaces both of the wizards are wearing, she suspects she may have hit the nail on the head.
"Father?" Lucius asks, turning to his Abraxas—who is seated in the middle of the trio of wizards—with a questioning look of concern.
"All of us—Tom's original…followers made one. We foolishly did not think much of it at the time. The only stipulation was that we would not share any sensitive information with anyone outside of our organisation, or anyone who was not in the know." Abraxas says cautiously, measuring and weighing every word before it left his lips.
"We saw things…and heard things," Theodus mumbles. "Abraxas and I had suspicions years ago about what you are implying…but if it is true, then I'm afraid we are all severely fucked."
Theodus deflates, there is no more silent confidence, simply a broken looking man who slumps in his seat and hold his head.
"I already told you. I know how to defeat him," Dorea states calmly, leaning forward in her seat, her smoky grey eyes sparking with audacious fire.
Abraxas mulls over her statement, glances at his son in his peripherals and purses his lips. The wizard then shares a loaded look with Theodus, "I don't need to tell you that we are taking a massive risk, even just being here."
"I understand that, of course I do," Dorea inclines her head, and her voluminous raven locks fall to the side as she does so—a dark, shimmering curtain. "I do not make this request lightly, but knowing those risks, and knowing that your lives will be in constant jeopardy…will you help us? Will you help us defeat Tom Riddle?"
The two older wizards flinch at You-Know-Who's full given name, as if they haven't heard it in a very long time, and the mere mention of it dredges up unpleasant memories.
"He wasn't always like this," Abraxas says more to himself than the witch before him, and she sends him a sympathetic look, but the fair wizard dutifully ignores it.
A slight motion out of the corner of her eye causes her to turn her head to look at Theodus.
"Before I agree to anything, I need you to guarantee that if anything happens to me, you will take care of my wife and child," Theodus requests, a grim, severe look on his face, as he stands up, and in an unhurried, deliberate way he places his hands on the desk in front of him. He lowers himself to Dorea's level, and the flurry of ice meets the scorching swirl of smoke.
"I swear on my magic, that if anything should befall you, I will take care of your wife and child," Dorea says with pure conviction and without a moment's hesitation.
Theodus lingers for a hair's breadth, and then like a cautious predator, never breaking eye contact, he slinks back, fixing his well-tailored navy blue waistcoat before he takes a seat again. Theodus folds his arms over his chest, and taps his foot—she must admit that he is as always, very well put together with his black dragonhide shoes, his long sleeved white button down that had the sleeves rolled up above his elbows, and his black trousers with white pinstripes on them. Abraxas is also dressed immaculately, although, his attire is a bit more traditional; he is wearing elaborate black robes that give him a distinguished and dignified look.
Theodus taps his index finger against his bicep, cocks his head to the side, and for the first time since he's arrived, he fully lets his guard down, "okay, Doe. I will—I will help you in every way I can."
A peculiar feeling unfurls in her chest at the nickname Abraxas had given her when they were still in school, a nickname that eventually Charlus and Theodus began to use as well. To think, in another life, she would have been Abraxas's wife. Funny how things work out, Dorea muses.
Abraxas stands up, and strides towards her desk; his robes dramatically settle around him, and he places a hand over his heart to further emphasise his sincerity. "As will I," Abraxas says solemnly.
"Well then boys, I suppose we better get started," Dorea smirks, lightly tapping the edge of her desk. "We haven't a moment to lose."
