The rain had stopped by the time I descended the steps back out to Raimond.
"How did it go?" he asked, when I reached him. I smiled serenely and turned, tipping my head and pulling my hair off one shoulder. Hidden behind my ear were tiny crosses of inky black- the sign of the old faith.
"I am a first priestess of the old religion," I said, my voice clear and calm, hiding a buried excitement.
"A first?" he repeated in shock. "Not a minor?" A first priestess was three rungs high on the ladder of the priesthood.
"No," I replied with a shake of the head and a warm smile. "Come," I said, reaching out for his hand. "We have a long walk ahead of us."
All the way back to Black Manor, I did not tell Raimond what happened in the temple. It felt like something private.
I sat in the library, curled up on the sofa by the fire, Tom to my right and Raimond to my left when my aunt let herself in.
"Your uncle calls for you," she said, smoothing her long, auburn hair. "He is in his study."
"Whatever for, Aunt Melania?" I asked, softly closing my book and trying not to laugh as Tom and Raimond both discreetly shifted to hide the titles of their chosen reading material.
"The day Arcturus Black shares with me his reasoning is the day he sprouts the wings of a hippogriff," she said stiffly. "If you'll excuse me I am looking for a book myself, I did not come here on a house elf's errand alone."
I rolled her eyes at her aunt's petulance, usually she was a warm and jovial character.
I wonder what has got her feathers ruffled.
I took my leave of my reading companions and made my way to the west wing, where Arcturus' study was housed.
I knocked once and opened the door, my uncle was as promised sat waiting for me at his desk. I took a quick glance around the office; everything looked slightly out place, having been moved from his own home to Black manor whilst he stayed for the Christmas period.
"You wished to see me, Uncle?"
"Do take a seat," he instructed, rising himself and strolling over to the drinks cabinet. He passed me a crystal goblet and a large bottle of deep amber liquid.
"Whiskey, my dear?" he asked. My eyes narrowed.
"You discourage Aunt Melania and Lucretia from drinking whiskey," I pointed out. "You say it is a man's drink and they should stick to their wine."
"True," he said thoughtfully. "But that is because they are ladies."
"And you're saying I'm not?" I demanded, my voice was shrill but my eyes betraying my amusement. "Besides, Lucretia plays Quidditch with the ferocity of ten men, thrice her size. You cannot call her a lady over me."
"Oh but that is just the Quidditch pitch, my dear," he said, reseating himself and taking a long sip. "Perhaps I use the wrong term. It is the same as the difference between say, Cassie and Wally, though less pronounced."
"Forgive me uncle, but you are very strange," I said, rolling my eyes. "Cheers, and merry Christmas."
The clink of crystal was followed by a moment of silence.
"Come on then uncle, what is it you really want to talk about?" I asked with renewed seriousness. He regarded me with a cool stare and took another sip.
"I want to know where you went yesterday," he said simply.
"I went riding with Raimond."
"It was a horrible day, you have no particular passion of the equestrian arts and you left at dawn and returned well after dusk," he said, a calculating glint in his eye.
"Are you calling me a liar, uncle?" I asked calmly. He smirked.
"No, however I am accusing you of not telling me the whole truth," he countered. "Where did you ride to… is there something I should know? Should I be contacting the duke for a contract?"
"Very funny," I said dryly. "Are you sure you wish to know?" He nodded once. "I want your word that you will not mention it to anyone."
"I cannot promise that, not when it could be something which puts you or our family in danger," he said in a low voice, suddenly very sombre. "Tell me anyway."
I breathed deeply and pulled my hair back, flashing him the tattoo hidden amongst my locks of hair.
He took a sharp breath.
"I knew you were different to the others my dear," he sighed, finishing his glass in one abrupt movement. "My congratulations are in order."
"Thank you," I replied, looking to the floor. "But it a secret, for now, even from the family."
"Naturally," he agreed, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. "Poppy I seek your council on a matter of importance."
"Go on," I instructed, watching him top up my glass also.
"You must understand that this is a very sensitive matter, I have decided to seek your council, as a member of the youngest Black generation, because of your… shall we say, disregard of the law when your own beliefs are challenged by them." I frowned and pulled my hair down over my ear.
"Illegal plans are nothing shocking where you're concerned, but what can that have to do with me?" I asked.
"I want your word that what we discuss will not leave this room," he said.
"You have it, uncle," I replied, a light frown dipping my brows.
"No doubt you have heard whisperings, about an uprising," he said darkly. I saw him check the status of the wards around his office, suspicious now, even in the heart of his family home.
"From my lord father, yes," I replied.
"I wish to give you an update, from our recent meeting," he said calmly. "We have established a leader of the resistance, to rise to power once the ministry falls."
"You speak of the ministry falling…that sounds awfully like a war," I commented. Arcturus gave me a hard look.
"Did you really think things would change peacefully?" he asked. I lowered my eyes.
"And who is it then?"
Arcturus let out a deep chuckle. My eyes snapped to his face.
"Uncle," I said in a warning tone. "Tell me."
"You're looking at him," he said, smugly, but my face turned sourer.
"It will be dangerous," I stated. "There will be fighting and you-"
"What's the sure fire way of not getting killed in a war?" he asked. "Lead it from the background."
I gave him a dark look.
"I'm not here to argue with your flawed logic," I told him. "But it cannot be said that you aren't a brave man, in your own way. Congratulations on your position."
"Thank you, Poppy," he said contemplatively. "It seems I misjudged your commitment to this cause."
"What can you mean?" I asked.
"Well if you do not approve of me heading the organisation then you wouldn't want to get involved yourself surely," he reasoned.
"Please," I scoffed. "The situations are entirely different. You are a father and the future Lord Black, your safety is paramount. Me on the other hand… well I wish to learn everything about this new world you are proposing."
"Perhaps you are right Poppy, it is dangerous. Almost too dangerous for me, so definitely too dangerous for you."
"It is completely different and you know it," I denied. "For one I am not the heir apparent to the Black estate. If I died in battle the wealth and prospects of our family would not fall into the hands of Orion," I said pointedly.
He waved a blasé hand.
"Or worse," I continued knowingly. "My father."
At that Arcturus did stop and give me a measured look.
"Perhaps," he said fairly. "But my lord father has many years in him yet, it is not as if he is infirm. He will live to see the war over and by then Orion will not be a fifteen year old boy, and Lycoris will definitely not need to be his regent."
There was a knock on the door and we both paused, the time was gone midnight.
"Come in," he called.
The door opened enough for Melania to slid through, she was wearing a long, satin nightdress, cut low. I averted my eyes.
"My love," she said curiously. "It is so late, I wondered why you hadn't come to bed."
"Poppy and I were just discussing school," he said, lying with practiced ease. "It seems Dumbledore is up to his old tricks after all these years."
She narrowed her eyes slightly but her smile did not falter.
"I'm sure my uncle has had enough of me spying on Dumbledore for him for one night," I said, rising from my chair. "May I have your leave to go to bed?"
"Of course my dear, sweet dreams," Arcturus replied.
"And you," I replied, crossing paths with Melania. "Goodnight aunt," I said, swiftly placing a kiss to her powdered cheek.
It was not often I got to swim beneath the stars, in the cool water I felt almost as if I was flying for length after length. It was the dead of night, hours since I had left my uncle's study, but sleep would not find me once I had returned to my own chambers. My head was full of rebellions, I did not notice the figure sat in the dark watching me. Finally, my muscles hummed with the satisfying ache of a long, hard swim and I was sure slumber would overtake me as soon as my head hit the pillow. I lifted myself gracefully from the water, shaking my hair out of its elastic and reaching for the towel I had left by the chair. I almost let out a scream when I found it handed to me by a pale hand.
"Tom for goodness sake," I exclaimed, clutching at my heart and breathing deeply. "Must you do that?"
"I am merely sitting here," he replied. I despised that smirk. "Why are you here anyway?"
"What does it look like?" I asked, gently running the towel over my curls, which hung limp over my shoulders.
"It looks like you are swimming in the dark at two in the morning," he said, lifting an eyebrow.
"I am swimming because I can't sleep and I did not light a candle because I like to see the stars, what is the point of having a glass roof if you turn on all the lights at night?"
"Well I prefer to see who I'm talking to," he said. The candles mounted on the wall flashed into light.
Tom looked pale, dark bruises under his eyes made him look exhausted.
"Why are you here Tom?" I asked him, unintentionally sounding concerned.
"Enjoying the view," he replied boldly, running his eyes up and down my crimson bathing suit. To me, this forties style of swim suit was more modest than any other I had worn in my life, so I did not have it in me to feel self-conscious. But I did swat him around the ear with my towel for good measure.
"Couldn't you sleep either?" I asked.
"I suppose not," he said, finally drawing his gaze up to my face.
"Well I'm going to go and try again," I replied.
"You've been in my bedroom, it's only fair you show me yours," he said, rising from the chair to follow me out.
"Oh is it now," I laughed. "I'm guessing you just want entertaining whilst insomnia plagues you."
"You know you are more observant than I give you credit for," he responded.
Tom sat in the armchair by the fire, as I took a quick shower and changed. I chose a night gown as I did fully intend to go to sleep soon, deliberately covering everything from wrists and ankles.
I padded over to the cabinet in the corner, my bare feet sinking into the emerald green carpet.
"I didn't know you had a drinks cabinet," Tom commented.
"The house elves like to be in bed by ten," I replied. "But they stock this well." Smiling I pulled out a large, steaming china jug of thick hot chocolate. "Can I tempt you?" As it turned out, I could in fact.
Half an hour later, both of us had drained our second cup and were curled up on my bed. I cuddled into the feather pillows and Tom leaned against the post at the foot.
"Is it strange, you being here for Christmas?" I asked.
Tom thought about it for a moment.
"Yes," he admitted. "But I happen to like it much more than normal Christmases, so far anyway."
"Why?"
"Well because at Hogwarts I get pestered by first years all day and night and there is Slughorn trying to get me to attend some party or another," he explained. "Here I have only those people I would wish to see, and there are so few people in such a big house that it's easy to avoid them."
"I had no idea you loved me so," I teased, clutching my heart dramatically. He raised an eyebrow.
"Abraxas, Raimond and Cassie, I am quite fond of however," he said, voice hard. I rolled my eyes.
"Go chat with them at three in the morning then," I huffed. He grinned and kicked me gently with the heel of his foot.
"I shouldn't put up with you Tom, you are quite horrible to me you know," I said with a smile, lifting myself from the cushions to put more logs in the fireplace.