"Tell me about the new system, Lady Poppy," Tom instructs, I shot him a dark glare.
"Arcturus is high warlock… I don't know it's kind of like a cross between a minister and a king I suppose and he has a dozen council members which run things too-"
"Poppy that is a terrible explanation of something I already know," he interrupted. "I want to hear something Dippet hasn't already told me. What happens when your uncle dies?" The look on my face told Tom I wasn't impressed. He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me for being practical," he added sardonically.
"He has a deputy, at the moment it is my father, the deputy at the time of his death or retirement, takes charge. If he does it successfully, then after a year he becomes the official high warlock," I explained absentmindedly. "But father doesn't want to do it, I think he's only doing it now because Arcturus doesn't want to have his early reign spent paranoid of a usurper as his deputy." I shrugged.
Tom looked pensive, leaning back in his chair.
"Very interesting," he said eventually. "Very interesting indeed, don't you think?"
"Oh immensely," I replied, head resting in my hands. "I heard you won anyway."
He lifted his eyebrows.
"Cedrella told me, before Dippet called us in," I elaborated. "She said Abraxas finally backed down." Tom shrugged his shoulders elegantly, but the corners of his mouth were quirked upward in a look of smug satisfaction.
"Well he was never going to win this little game was he?" he commented. "He's a follower, not a leader."
"You're probably right," I replied, but tone had become no less dejected. He sighed in irritation.
"What has got you looking so sullen?" he questioned finally.
I was silent.
"My uncle can make me marry Abraxas now," I said, my voice small. "My grandfather mentioned it in the holidays, but I said no. Arcturus wouldn't give a fuck about my feelings and I know he wants me to marry Abraxas. His father is on the dozen council."
"You're not going to marry Malfoy," Tom said, his voice firm. I lifted my gaze to his face, his eyes burned.
"I won't have a choice," I replied seriously. "Arcturus when he wasn't ruling the country was hard enough to crack. Now there is no chance."
My words seemed to incense Tom. He rocked forward onto his feet, clasping my chin in his palms.
"There is always a choice and there is always a chance," he told me, his voice barely more than a whisper, but its message was louder than if he had screamed it. "Do not tell me you are so weak."
"I am not weak," I answered, my voice was steady, strong but defiance leaked from my tone. A smirk twisted his lips upward. He leaned in further, so our lips were only an inch apart. His cool hands still holding my head, but even I could see it was more of a caress.
"Prove it," he murmured, the colours in his dark eyes swirling. "Make your own chance. Give yourself a choice."
"I will." His hands left my face and he dropped back into his chair.
"That is more like it," he replied. I looked down at my watch.
"It's time I went," I said.
Tom walked me back to the tower.
"See you in the morning Tom," I said, I grasped me above the elbow as I turned, stepping in close from behind.
"You shall end any engagement to Abraxas Malfoy," he murmured in my ear, his breath sending hair dancing over my neck. "Or I will."
I turned my head so our gazes locked, our bodies were closer then I imagined, his chest almost pressed to my back.
"He's not good enough for you Poppy." His voice was almost tender.
I nodded.
"No one is good enough for me, Tom."
I smirked wickedly.
Betrothals were becoming more common in Hogwarts now, and with it a different kind of ceremony. Someone from each of the Houses involved would come to the castle, and at the end of dinner they would stand before the high desk and announce their new connection.
The look on the face of Abigail Potter- just a third year, when it was announced she would marry Malcom Selwyn, a fifth year Slytherin who I couldn't imagine she had ever spoken to, was enough to prove in my mind that these engagements were deceptive.
So when I came in late to dinner one day in November, and saw Lord Malfoy at the table, eating a plate of shepherd's pie next to Dippet, my heart jumped to my throat.
Surely he was here on official business, he must be.
I sat down next to Lizzie and the look in her eyes told me that she had jumped to the same conclusion.
"Breathe deeply," she instructed under breath. "You look beautiful by the way, might as well get engaged on a good hair day. The only danger there is, is of you passing out."
I nodded numbly and accepted the plate of food she handed me, smiling sympathetically.
I didn't take any notice of the food I was putting in my mouth. It could have been cardboard for all I knew.
Pudding was being cleared away, the last few crumbs of sticky toffee pudding vanishing made my heart sink. Dippet had moved up to the podium, Lizzie grasped my hand under the table and we shared a look.
"Students," he declared with a smile. "We have some happy news in the student body. As you can see, Lord Malfoy has been so kind as to join us for dinner this evening."
Everyone else turned to Lord Malfoy, but my eyes turned to his son. His face was ever so slightly pale, I could see the tension in his jaw and the look of confusion in his eyes.
He didn't know either.
For a moment my heart soared. It might not be me!
Then the doors to the great hall opened, I turned and immediately my hopes were dashed to pieces.
Pollux.
Pollux?
"Introducing Lord Pollux of House Black," Dippet said in acknowledgement. "A pleasure to have you back at our school, my lord." He nodded in response his dark eyes finding me in the crowd. Was it pity I saw in them?
Pollux fucking Black?!
"It is my great honour to announce, the engagement of Sir Abraxas of House Malfoy and the Lady Poppy of House Black," he announced.
I shared a look with Abraxas, I glared pointedly for just a moment before my face broke out into a smile my family would have approved of. I had to handle this with grace and propriety for now.
Still smiling like I'd won the lottery, I rose from the table and joined Abraxas at the front as the student body dutifully clapped. Whispers broke out around the hall, probably about how I didn't deserve him.
I kept my composure as I kissed Abraxas' cheek, as his father kissed my hand and as I refused to look at Pollux. Only once the whole ordeal was over, and everyone was filing from the hall did I spare him a glance.
"A word," I said through gritted teeth. He followed me to the closest private space I knew of- a broom cupboard. He let out a barking laugh.
"I hardly think this appropriate Poppy-" I cut him off.
"Get in." If my tone was cool, my stare was practically glacial.
I could not offer him the same respect I usually bestowed upon relatives, not when such an anger had risen in me, I could practically taste in the back of my throat. It must have flashed in my eyes.
It broke his resolve and he stepped in.
"With all due respect Pollux," I said, through gritted teeth. "Why in Merlin's name are you here?"
"As representative of House Black-"
"But why you, Pollux?" I demanded. "With all due respect my lord, you are my first cousin once removed. My father and my grandfather both could have come. Or if he had any decency the man who arranged this farce would have shown his face."
"You would do best to hold your tongue," he said warningly, but he was not unkind. "He is the ruler of our country now, and what he says, goes. At least you can see the real force behind this engagement, perhaps there is some hope for you to gain some intelligence yet."
I didn't let that barb sting me.
"Well I have a message for our supreme ruler," I spat, malice dripping from my tongue. "Next time my dearest uncle wants to meddle in affairs which are not his. Let him have the balls to do it himself. My engagement was meant to be decided by my Head of House, I will not forget this slight on my grandfather- whether it was from the High Warlock or not."
Pollux regarded me for a moment in silence.
"I shall not, you are just a child," he sighed. "For your sake, I shall convey that you are not pleased by the surprise and his manner of telling you."
"I shall go on to marry Abraxas as if my heart chose this match. I will not allow Abraxas and more importantly Arcturus to make me into some bitter old crone who scorns her own husband, but by the gods I am not happy with him not at least telling me first. Tell him that. Tell him that I shall be a good little wife to Brax but I shall forever despise my uncle."
Pollux smirked.
"Your jokes will fall on an unwilling recipient," he cautioned.
So I swallowed my pride and my anger. I clenched my fists together so hard that my nails dug into my palms, as I took a deep breath. The air was bitter in my lungs.
"Then just tell him that I promise to make Abraxas a good fiancée and wife and be done with it," I spat. "It was a pleasure to see you cousin Pollux, your presence always brightens my week, I thank you for your sage council," I added bitterly, a mockery of the high society etiquette we both held so dear, before dipping into a low curtsey and sweeping from the broom cupboard.
Slytherin were having an end of term party before the Christmas holidays. And I was already tired of being engaged to Abraxas.
A part of me felt guilty, that I was going to go through with it when Abraxas had been the perfect gentleman. He had escorted me to each meal, we had walked about the lake arm in arm. But my uncle wanted me to be married by the summer.
Abraxas was my friend, but he was so… vanilla. He was vanilla when I craved spice. I would not marry a man even courting there was a notable absence of heat and passion. He didn't make my heart buoy or stomach twist in anticipation.
I told myself that his slight at the start of term party was the reason for my desire to run from this engagement. I would rather believe myself to be petty, than let my thoughts linger for a moment on the fact there was another man, who there was more passion in one look than there would ever be in a thousand kisses from Abraxas. The fact that, that passion was so often an unidentifiable mix of anger, lust and perhaps even disgust was another reason why I would not dignify the subject even with a moment of my attention.
In the end, the look on Tom's face didn't drive me to actually go through with it.
The letter saying Arcturus had arranged our Westminster wedding this July did.
There was absolutely no way I was going to marry Abraxas before seventh year. Absolutely none.
The evening before the party I went to the only person I knew that could help me.
I couldn't ask any of my cousins- they could be mistaken for me. Lizzie would never accept my plan so asking her wouldn't be right, she'd feel guilty. Hazel couldn't do it- she didn't really know Abraxas that well, and besides with her in on the plan, within a week everyone would know I staged it, so I went to the only person I thought could help me.
I needed a Slytherin, a Slytherin who was not loyal to Brax.
"Elena, can I ask you something?" I said tentatively. She lifted her perfectly shaped eyebrows at me.
"Yes," she said suspiciously.
Elena was my friend. She would help me. We had been on holiday together in the summer. We had seen the coliseum and eaten our own body weight in pasta, surely she would help me.
"I need your help," I said, eyes filling with crocodile tears.
"Darling," she crooned, putting a slender arm around my shoulders. "What in Merlin's name is wrong?"
"I don't want to marry Brax," I sniffed, looking deep into her clear blue eyes. "I need to get out of it. I need to."
She surveyed me for a moment, her delicate brows furrowed. She would identify with me, she had to. She felt uncomfortable around boys, she would help me. She had to.
She was silent, but then she squeezed my hand.
"I will help you."
I enveloped her in my embrace and she hugged me back. Once she would have found this the worst thing I could have done to her, but now she stroked my hair in comfort.