Adrian glanced down at her, that familiar murmur in his heart betraying him. When he'd woken up alone the next morning the first thing he did was to lose his dinner multiple times, most of it accidentally in his roommate's trunk. After a cleaning spell and multiple pepper up potions, he felt ready to face the day. Sitting at the breakfast table that morning his eyes scanned the room until he found the brunette he was looking for. She was sucking down coffee like her life depended on it, eyes trained on the table. He whistled in order to catch her attention, fluttering her fingers when she looked over at him. He felt an odd pang in his chest as she looked at him in confusion, glancing around as if she didn't know who he was speaking to. She didn't remember. Of course she didn't, why would she? He was just another Slytherin. He was nothing in the eyes of Odile Reisinger; nothing in the eyes of any of these nose-upturning aristocrats. And to be honest, he was damn tired of it.
"Lots of things change Pucey. Weren't you from London or something? I'm pretty sure you didn't sound this snooty in school." He glanced down in surprise, steps faltering for a moment. Of all things to remember, it just had to be his origins.
"As you said, lots of things change." He finally replied, dipping her as the music came to an end. He heard scattering of claps as he held her, his eyes never leaving hers. There was a pause, it was like he was frozen in time. He almost couldn't believe his luck, having her in his arms again. He had tried to talk to her a few times after the night in question but she'd always managed to evade him. Then she was dating the Weasley twin, and just like that his chance with her disappeared.
"Are you ever going to lift me back up?" She hissed and he immediately brought her back, ears heating up in embarrassment. He cleared his throat, stepping back to give her room to walk away. He had to remember the plan at hand, feelings had no room here. She immediately walked away from him, hightailing it towards the buffet. He cleared his throat, nodding at some of the couples that had clapped as he left the floor.
"Well that was just heartwarming, you two lovebirds looked perfect." He jumped slightly at the snarky voice behind him, turning to see a familiar blonde watching him frostily.
"Merlin, Matthew. You scared the life out of me." He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You can drop the posh voice Pucey, no one important is listening." Adrian raised an eyebrow at that, glancing around.
"I'm not entirely sure I know wha-."
"Just leave it," Matthew hissed, lowering his voice as his eyes narrowed, "I'm simply here to make sure you stay on topic here. Remember months of hard work went into this night, we have a plan here. That plan does not include you making googly eyes at my sister." Adrian eyed the boy with some reservation, bristling at the reminder.
"And you're ok with this plan? What will happen to your sister, you're perfectly alr-"
"Oh, please don't be dull Adrian. Of course I'm alright with it. Whatever the Dark Lord has planned is all that matters." He replied, a drawl tone that reeked of aristocratic disinterest.
"You really don't care, do you? About Odile, about your sister." Matthew rolled his eyes at the accusation in the boy's voice.
"No, I truly don't. Now go make yourself useful, Mother needs you in the drawing room." Adrian looked at him in disgrace before stalking away to where Evgeniya was waiting, the next stage of the plan soon to be enacted. The hours were ticking by, and there would soon be enough distraction to finish their job.
Matthew caught sight of the woman of the hour across the room, stood talking animatedly to Buxtley. He watched them for a moment, and he felt an uncomfortable pit in his stomach. It was a sight he knew well, from the time when he was still just a young child. His sister would always spend most of her time in the library, closed off from the world. The only time he ever saw her smile was when she was talking to Buxtley, and it gave him some reminder she was an actual person, not just the big ball of silent rage he'd grown accustomed to. He blinked as she made eye contact with him, the smile only faltering slightly. He steeled his reserve at that familiar coldness; until she gave him a little smile and waved, shocking him. Couldn't she pick any other day to behave differently?
He pulled himself from his reverie as he heard his father's beckoning call. He nodded in lieu of reply, clearing his throat as he turned to his awaiting audience.
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Odile sat talking to Buxtley for a large remainder of the night, broken up into moments from him dashing about to make sure everything remained smoothly. It was during one such a return that she turned to him, slightly flushed from the champagne.
"You know, I remember the first event we had here. I sat at the table so quietly, you could hardly tell I was there." She said thoughtfully, eyes wandering around the miles of floor, the guests all chattering over the sound of Chopin.
"I remember how you never spoke a single word for the first month. I was half worried you'd gone mute." She chuckled at that, glancing over at the man.
"Proved you wrong after that though, didn't I?" He laughed jovially, a noise so infectious she couldn't help but join in.
"That you did Ms Odile, that you did." She smiled but paused for a moment, looking down at her feet.
"You never regretted it though, did you? Raising me I mean. I mean, I'm sure I wasn't easy to handle." He stopped, before turning her to look him in the eyes.
"It's been the greatest honour of my life Odile. You're the daughter I never had, my favourite child." She rolled her eyes, but couldn't deny the knot building in her throat.
"I hope you don't tell your son that." She chuckled, and he shook his head thoughtfully.
"Oh yeahhh, I keep forgetting about that one." He replied sarcastically, and she smiled wryly.
"Barely 5 and having to live in my shadow, poor kid."
"Eh, he'll be alright. He's a Mummy's boy anyway." They laughed conspiratory, before a comfortable silence surrounded them once more. He paused for a moment before looking down at the crown of her head.
"What could ever make you think I did?" She shrugged at his question, taking another sip of her drink.
"I guess… well, take this business with Fred right? I was sure he loved me, but he never came after me. I wonder if he regrets our relationship." Buxtley nodded sagely, and put his arm around her, rubbing her shoulder.
"I can't speak for the boy, but I daren't say he does."
"So why did he never come after me?" She murmured angrily, finally speaking the question she'd had in her mind for the last month.
"Perhaps he was afraid. Like I said, I can't tell you what's going through his head but… from what you've told me of him, he loved you as much as you did him. Maybe he's just thought he's ruined it all. That he can never get you back."
"But that's not true!" She huffed in frustration, arms crossed over her chest.
"Well, I'm not the one you need to be telling darling. Try talking to him. You're obviously unhappy without him. Men are so often stupid and scared, sometimes you have to be the first to break." She hummed in acknowledgement, popping a cream puff into her mouth.
"I'm afraid," she said finally, "I'm afraid that he gave up. That he moved on, that I was too much to deal with. You know, the first time we really spoke was a result of me punching him in the face?" Buxtley let out a gasp of mock horror and she giggled, moving out his grasp to face him fully.
"What do I do if the worst is the worst? That he found another girl, that he's happier without me?" Buxtley took in a deep breath and seemed to collect his thoughts.
"Then you find someone else. Someone else to trust with your heart. It won't be easy, but it can happen." She cleared her throat, desperately blinking back the tears pricking in her eyes.
"I don't know if there's another one after him." Her voice wobbled on it's last word, and Buxtley wrapped her in a bear hug, pulling her tightly against him.
"Then go get him. Don't let this go if you feel that strongly about it, don't lose your chance at happiness." She looked up at him and nodded, enjoying the warm embrace she didn't even realise she'd been craving. The sudden gong crash that rang through the room made her jump, spinning around to where her father stood, holding the rubber coated beater in the air like a trophy. Polite clapping filled the air and she and Buxtley shared a look of confusion.
"A toast," he cried, his echoed voice cutting across the room like a sharpened blade, "To another beautiful Samhain, and the changing over of yet another season. Autumn soon becomes winter, and the cycle of life continues. From the Egyptians view of the ouroborus, a symbol depicting life everlasting and the eternal cycle; we have watched our years and lifetimes continue to replay over and over. May thy riches forever overfloweth and thy cup never run dry. Cheers!" The crowd echoed the cry as they lifted the goblets to the air.
"Do excuse me dear, it looks like they need my services in the kitchen. I'll be right back." Buxtley murmured to Odile as he caught sight of the urgent waving of the sous chef. She smiled and nodded at his small bow before turning back to where her father stood basking in all the attention.
"For you." She jumped as a glass of champagne came into view, turning to see her brother stood with a matching one in the hand closest to him. He extended it a little further, his eyebrows furrowed in expectation. She delicately took it from him, watching him with a level of suspicion.
"It's not poisoned, is it?" She finally asked, sniffing it experimentally. Her brother rolled his eyes and scoffed.
"It's not poisoned Odile." She raised her eyebrows in suspicion and he rolled his eyes once more, crossing his arms over his chest.
"What, do you want it in writing? A bloody Unbreakable vow? You know what, just give it back, my fault for trying to be nice-" She quickly necked the glass to shut him up, missing the satisfied glint in his eyes. She raised the empty glass to him in a 'see?' manner. He nodded slightly, and Odile couldn't help but feel guilty for her suspicion. They stood in silence for a few minutes, their father giving the stage to his wife, allowing her to prattle away about the charity they were supporting for the night. Odile glanced over at her brother, his eyes trained upon the stage, face straight. She rarely ever saw him smile, really smile that is. Much like Odile herself, Matthew had perfected the art of fake smiles. He knew how to charm any aristocrat that he met at a dinner party, his false laugh on par with his father's by now. But to see him smile or laugh honestly? She doubted she'd ever seen it more than once. Finally the silence was unbearable and she sighed, turning to her brother.
"Look I'm sorry ok? I know I haven't...," she blinked slowly, feeling a rush of lightheaded sensation rushing through her body, "Haven't been… haven't been the best… sorry." She pressed her hand to her head, feeling off balance suddenly.
"It's alright Odile, it's just the sedative taking its effect." Her eyes shot up, much to her head's protest, a lurching coming from her throat as she wobbled slightly. She felt herself tip backwards, landing into a set of muscled arms. They supported her as she blinked murkly, as if there were weights pulling down her lashes.
"But… but you said…?" She murmured accusatorially, head pounding as her legs became jelly, no longer supporting her weight.
"I said it wasn't poisoned Odile… I never said it wasn't spiked." He replied smothly through a false smile, smirking as the look of despair gave way to a dreamless sleep. He looked up and nodded at Adrian, prompting him to pick her up into a bridal carry from where she was already leant against his body. The blonde indicated the man to follow him, ignoring the grim expression that mirrored his own self satisfied one.
"You're sick, you know that?" Adrian hissed, clutching the girl somewhat closer to his form as they crossed the floor to the staircase, avoiding the distracted eyes of the crowd.
"I'm dedicated, Adrian. It would be in your best interests that you learn from that. Sometimes, you have to step on a few backs to build an empire." Matthew muttered, eyes flashing dangerously at Adrian's scoff. He stepped closer to the man, voice lowering as they glared at each other.
"Remember what is at stake here. Remember who we work for. Disappointing him will be the last thing you do." Adrian's heart stuttered a bit and Matthew knew he'd won, a shit eating grin overtaking his face.
"Get downstairs. We have work to do." Adrian huffed before hefting the girl over his shoulder, carefully grasping the bannister as he descended the staircase. Matthew threw a glance around the room as he followed, checking that no one was watching. He made eye contact with his father for a moment, and nodded at his father's questioning look. When he received a nod in return he turned to go down the stairs, completely missing the curious eyes of Buxtley from the kitchen window.
A/N: And now the fun begins! Special thanks to noblecrescent and Dumbledork394 for following, and to Dumbledork394, Parrysejai, and mrs. morgan 35 for favouriting! Also, not to sound desperate, but reviews do really help! It's great to have feedback, and it truly can help me sort out the ending of this whole saga. I'm grateful to all of you who read, but as a writer, it is immensely useful to get an understanding of what does and doesn't work for you all. Just something to keep in mind, thank you again!
Summary of Chapter 10: After a wild night of partying after a Slytherin Quidditch win, Odile drinks a bit to much and meets Adrian. He'd been watching her because he knew who her father was, he just didn't expect to like her so much. As the night continues, they both get pretty damn drunk and end up sleeping together. Odile has trouble remembering his name multiple times which leads to a butthurt Adrian who wants his own back.