(AN- sorry for an AN at the start, but it didn't really fit at the end. I wanted to address the concern I got in a guest review, that Poppy is an interesting character because she is strong, and it seems like Tom is getting the upper hand. I thought this needed addressing.
Basically in this story there are many battles for dominance and control. One of the most obvious will definitely be in Tom and Poppy's relationship- two characters who can be manipulative, intelligent and who strive for perfection and influence. Spoilers (?): But I'm sure you've already guessed there is going to be something happening between them. Can you imagine Poppy or Tom just letting the other have dominance over them? It's going to be a battle, an on-again-off-again battle for control and supremacy, because Tom Riddle thinks himself superior to everybody, and Poppy wants control.
So sometimes, yes. Tom is going to have the upper hand. He is going to manipulate Poppy to get his way. He is going to play with her emotions, and we probably aren't going to understand his own feelings about her.
She is human. She cannot win everything, she doesn't know everything. Her emotions will get the better of her, even when her mind tells her otherwise. That's just how people are.
But she is persistent and resilient, and at times in this story (bits I've already written) it will seem as though she is never going to recover. But she will. That is what she does.
Basically, I believe that Poppy is strong. But I believe that strong people make mistakes (and Poppy definitely makes some quite… spectacular mistakes) and they let themselves be led astray and they have to work at getting back on track, and that that is essentially, what makes them strong.
She isn't going to sit down and be Mrs Riddle and have seventeen babies with Riddle hair and Black eyes. But is she going to allow herself to become Lady Voldemort and bathe in the blood of fifty virgins and wear a snake as a turban all day? No. (that's not really a spoiler is it, no live animal headgear and no 17 kids? )
Her life is going to be a struggle, and Tom is only part of that struggle.
So, what I'm trying to say is, stick with it. Because Poppy is, and will continue to strong.
Poppy has to work to gain the upper hand over Tom. And then he works to turn the tables, and then presumably it continues in that vicious cycle of forever trying to one up the other. But that would be another spoiler.)
As soon as we arrived at Potter Manor it was as if a switch was flicked, Charlus Potter had become relaxed and welcoming.
"Welcome to my home," he said, as we were shown through the halls of marble to the ballroom. "You must come and meet my parents Dorea," he smoothly in her ear, a hand holding her waist and pulling her closer.
Dorea of course agreed, the sight of her giving him a delighted smile brought the image of Cassie's dead eyes that night in her bedroom to my mind, I had to look away.
"My mother and father must be here somewhere as well," Abraxas commented. "They came back from France especially for this evening." I feigned interest.
Finally we entered the ballroom, a vast space of shining floors, elves with polished silver trays and elegant guests. I quickly lost sight of my cousin in the throng, but we had agreed to meet back at the floo point at midnight anyway.
Quickly Abraxas and I were found by a tall, blonde woman with beautiful, angular features and a wide, bright white smile.
"Brax mon astre," she said in a refined French accent. "How are you?"
"I am very well mother, how are you?" he asked in return, accepted her embrace without embarrassment.
"Better for seeing you," she replied, holding him at arm's length to look at him and mess with the lapels of his suit in a motherly fashion. "Trés beau," she sighed, still smiling incandescently.
"May I introduce to you my dear friend and date for this evening, Miss Poppy Black," he said, holding out an arm to me. I smiled nervously as Lady Malfoy's eyes narrowed and surveyed me for a moment.
"Practically une déesse," she said finally, her smile returning as she stepped forward to kiss my cheeks heartily. "It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Black," she said, laying a hand on my cheek. "You have the most wonderful cheekbones."
"You must forgive my lovely wife Miss Black," a man had appeared behind her, laying a hand on his wife's shoulder. "She takes too much delight in meeting beautiful young creatures, she is French, and perhaps that is why."
I stifled a laugh, Lord Malfoy was an extremely handsome man, he had all the good looks of his son, but Abraxas had inherited the almost white hair of his mother, rather than the warm golden locks his father sported.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Lord Malfoy," I said graciously, as he kissed my hand.
"My dear, the pleasure is all mine," he replied, smiling smugly and looking to his son. "Abraxas has told us all about you, haven't you Brax?"
Abraxas' smile faltered slightly and a hint of a blush crept into his cheeks.
Lord Malfoy's grin broadened, you could see the pleasure he got from ruffling his son's feathers.
"Let's get the two of you a drink, shall we," he offered, snapping his finger a house elf appeared. I accepted a deep glass of red wine.
"So tell me, Poppy," Abraxas' mother insisted. "What NEWTs are you going to choose at the end of this year?"
"Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, Ancient Runes and Athrimancy, Lady Malfoy," I listed unsurely. Lord and Lady Malfoy shared a look.
"Please, call me Alexandria," she replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
My mind was taken off their conspiring glances by the arrival and speech of Lord and Lady Potter. I was looking for Dorea and Charlus, and finally I found them at the side of the stage, clapping politely to the end of the speech and the start of the dancing.
I danced for some with Abraxas, and then his father who moved with even more grace than his teenage son. I danced once with Charlus very early on, and Raimond too. But then I was whisked off to dance with other lords and lordlings, I talked graciously with each of them, complimented their dancing and laughed at their jokes- but most of them I did not know the names of. Many of them were not from this country and talked with heavy accents, I struggled to comprehend. I punctuated those dances with Abraxas and it was very late by the time I realised I had not seen Dorea for more than two hours.
It reached midnight, so we bid goodbye to the other guests, including Abraxas' parents, Lord Malfoy winked as he bid me goodbye and his mother hugged me furiously.
"Well I think it is safe to say my mother loved you," Abraxas laughed as we walked upstairs to the floo.
"Really, I couldn't tell," she replied, fingering my bruised ribs.
"The first thing she said was that you are a goddess, and your cheekbones are magnificent," he laughed. "I think you were a hit."
I laughed and shook my head.
"Real life functions re a lot more stressful than dances in the Slytherin common room," I sighed. "We hardly got to speak for five minutes."
"Well you talk too much the rest of the time," he quipped. I gasped in indignation and folded my arms over my chest. Abraxas laughed and wrapped his arms around me playfully.
"I didn't mean it Poppy," he wailed. "Won't you forgive me?"
"Never," I announced, half-heartedly trying to wiggle free from his arms.
"I'll make it up to you my darling," he promised. "I will do anything to earn your forgiveness."
"Is pissing off included?" I asked innocently. It was his turn to gasp exaggeratedly.
"Why must you try and hurt me so, Poppy," he said dejectedly.
"Because you're a bloody moron?"
"Now I know you don't mean that," he told me.
"Oh don't I?" I managed to twist my arms free. Abraxas jumped back, shielding his sides.
"You can't tickle me Poppy, that's cheating!" he exclaimed.
"Can and will," I sang. "Wait, what's the time?"
"Ten past," he replied, pulling out his pocket watch from his waistcoat. We shared a look and hurried on to the floo.
Dorea was not waiting.
"She must have gone on without us," Abraxas deduced, grabbing a handful of floo powder. I nodded and followed him into the fireplace.
We landed in the drawing room where Arcturus was waiting patiently for our return. I thanked my lucky stars it was not Great Uncle Cygnus, or worse, Pollux.
"Good evening," he said looking up from his book. "Is Dorea not with you?" My heart sunk.
"Dorea?" I repeated. "Oh of course, me and Abraxas saw her talking with Lady Potter a little while ago." I flashed my eyes at Abraxas, urging him to cotton on.
"Oh yes," Abraxas contributed. "In the ballroom, we are so silly Poppy, we should have guessed she would be too polite to excuse herself."
"I suppose we should go back and save her," I sighed. "You know Lady Potter, she keeps on talking for hours."
"Very well," Arcturus said. "Abraxas can you give me your word that you will return the girls safely? I'm not sure I can sit here a moment longer without nodding off, and if you get sucked into conversation with Lady Potter you could be hours more yet."
"Of course Arcturus," he vowed. "You know I would never let anything happen to any of your girls."
"Good man," he replied, clapping him on the back. "Goodnight."
Abraxas and I did not exchange a word until we were back in Potter manor.
"When did you actually last see Dorea?" I demanded, gnawing my lip with worry.
"Not for hours," he replied, eyes narrowed.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking," I whispered under my breath.
"We need to find an elf," he told me. We snuck back down to the ballroom and called an elf as it was carrying out an empty tray.
"I need you to take us to Charlus' chambers," I told it.
"We are his friends, he's having a secret party," Abraxas said. "So you can't tell any of the adults."
The elf looked unsure and Abraxas lost patience.
"I'm a Malfoy and my companion is a Black," he said sternly. "You will take us to his bedchambers."
The elf nodded and agreed with no further hesitation.
When we got to the corridor of his room, we sent the elf away and crept to the doorway, even without pressing our ears to the wood we knew what they were doing.
"Well at least we know Dorea is having a good time," Abraxas muttered. I smacked him around the head.
"Should we wait… for them to finish?" I whispered, the panic had made my voice go higher than intended.
"I don't want to hear that," he told her. "Besides, perhaps we should stop them before then… that's how accidents happen after all."
"They've been gone for hours, I doubt this is the first round," I sighed, resigned. I rubbed my knuckles on my forehead, a tension headache was coming on.
"Right this is happening," Abraxas sighed, before I could stop him he was knocking loudly on the door.
"Go away," came a feeble shout from inside.
"Oh you can fuck right off," Abraxas shouted back, shouldering the door open. I heard Dorea yelp and dive to cover herself with his duvet.
"Malfoy what the fuck," I heard Charlus ask in horror.
"Shut your mouth, Potter," he spat back, I joined him on the threshold, averting my eyes from all of the Gryffindor that was on display.
"Dorea Black it is almost one o'clock in the bloody morning," he announced, rounding on her. A mortified Dorea gasped and looked for the clock. "We put our necks on the line to save your arse from Arcturus. Put your clothes on, we are leaving."
"Poppy," she said in a small voice, her eyes brimming with tears. "I can't put it all on by myself."
"Come on," I said sympathetically, ushering her into bathroom wrapped in a blanket whilst picking her undergarments from the floor with the point of my wand.
"As for you Potter," I heard as I closed the door. "Excellent catch."
I was late to breakfast the next day, after a night of escorting a sobbing and clearly drunk Dorea home I had overslept. I slipped in next to Cassie and helped myself to the poached eggs offered.
The family were halfway through breakfast when a very grand owl appeared at the window. Orion jumped up to take the letter.
"It's for you, grandfather," he announced, handing it to Sirius. Frowning, he opened the letter and pulled out the piece of parchment.
"Who is it from dear?" Hesper asked from the foot of the table. Sirius lowered his spoon and looked over the frames of his reading glasses.
"Lord Potter," he answered gravely. I caught Abraxas' eye, he had paled.
"Dorea I wish to talk to you in my office immediately," my grandfather said, standing without another bite of his meal.
"What about?" she asked, trying not to let her fear show.
"Lord Potter has asked to meet with us as soon as is convenient, he wants to draw up a contract between us and for his son and heir to ask Cygnus for his blessing," he said, there was silence.
"The future Lord Potter is going to ask for Dorea's hand."
Violetta burst into tears of joy, hiding her daughter Cassiopeia's gasp.
I sat in my room all morning, of course when Charlus proposed Dorea would accept, especially now both their families were so enamoured with the idea. But what about Cassie? Was their relationship continuing even still, or was she furious? Her temper was like wildfire and I was worried.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," I called, not turning from gazing out of the window. I could tell who it was by his footsteps.
"And why have you been hiding up here?" Tom's smooth voice asked, his hands snaking around my waist. "Everyone else is in the drawing room, gossiping their predictions about when Charlus will propose."
"I am sure they can do that well enough without me," I replied, smiling slightly as I felt my hair being pushed to one size. "What are you doing here?"
"I can't think what you mean," he replied, pressing kisses along my neck. I shivered and pushed him off, rounding on him.
"Well then I'll leave you with this and let you be on your way," I pressed my lips to his, kissing him fiercely whilst pushing him toward the door. He chuckled and kissed me harder, walking forwards until my back was pressed against the wall.
"It's early in the day Poppy, and you haven't been drinking I hope, you need to learn to control yourself," he told me.
"I know," I mumbled against his lips. "I'm just terrible."
"I quite agree," he murmured, pressing me closer by clutching my thick hair. I pushed him down into the armchair, and he pulled me down on top of him.
"Mr Riddle," I scolded, straddling his hips and looking down on him. "This is a most inappropriate position."
"You started it Miss Black," he retorted. "You know exactly what you do." His lifted his chin to kiss me. I laughed , pulling at the strap of my dress which had fallen off my shoulder.
"I don't think so," Tom said in a matter of fact tone, sweeping it off and planting kisses on my shoulder. "As a matter of fact, I think that other shoulder should be free of that infernal dress as well." I shrugged off the other strap.
"I feel naked," I whispered exaggeratedly. He raised his eyebrows and undid two buttons.
"What about now?" he asked.
"Incredibly exposed," another two buttons. "Tom, I don't think I can handle this."
"I figured as much," he shrugged, kissing the bare skin before him.
"Do you make it a habit of coming into young ladies' rooms and undressing them?" I asked, undoing buttons of his.
"I think after today I should," he said appraisingly.
"Well I'm flattered," I replied, running my hands through his soft, dark hair. He chuckled and nibbled at her collar bone. "You're being very nice today," I commented. "For you anyway, you haven't ripped any of my clothes or anything."
"It would be a crime to ruin such a beautiful dress," he said. "When it slides off yours shoulders so provocatively."
"Oh so you like it now? It's not infernal!"
"Well it would look better- "
"Let me guess," I said, laying a finger on his lips. "You're going to use to the 'on the floor' line."
"I was going to say on Slughorn," he said with a grin. "But now you mention it, I like your idea much better."
"Well good luck getting anywhere," I replied. "Because I refuse to move from this chair."
"I never intended you to," he told me, before pressing his lips to mine again.
"Tom," I said warningly, trying to hide my smile.
"Get your mind out of the gutter," he ordered, flashing a dark smile.
Later, we were sat in the same armchair, looking out over the trees which surrounded the manor, the afternoon sun trying feebly to peek through the low clouds.
"Poppy," Tom said, I shifted in his lap to look at him. His eyes were closed, but he was sat straight in the chair, his head resting on the back.
"Yes Tom," I said, running my finger over the soft knit of his jumper.
"On very rare occasions it strikes me how magnificent you are." I beamed, but Tom did not open his eyes.