Chapter 2
I returned to school and finished the year. He never once left my thoughts, and, as one is wont to do over time and distance, I began to fancy he may have felt something for me, leading him to search me out at the latest hour, the darkest hour, the witching hour. It was make-believe, but it made me look forward to returning home, rather than the dull dread that usually filled my breast.
Upon arriving home, I found the house deserted, as well as the garden. Not that I had spent much time in the garden, I had just returned home. I cast a simple Trova Personae spell for my family. But as I said, there was not a living soul in the grounds.
Leaving my trunks in the hall for the house elves to clear away, I hurried up to my bedchamber as fast as my skirts would let me, and collected my belongings. I think I should inform you now that at the end of each school year, at the earliest opportunity, I would renew the wards surrounding my clearing. And this was the perfect opportunity.
I was halfway back down the stairs when I heard a tread on the front step. A heavy male tread, less delicate than that of my brothers.
I froze, feeling like a criminal in my own home. I am not sure why. The heavy, ornate doorknob turned so slowly that I almost ran to turn it myself, the suspense was intolerable. Who was well known enough to my family to be included in all the house wards?
My mind immediately supplied a name, a name which had not left my mind for the last four months.
I was filled with panic. Due to the spells involved in renewing the wards, I always found it most beneficial to perform skyclad. Now do not misinterpret me, I was not standing on our grand marble staircase as naked as the day I was born, but I was not wearing the appropriate habiliments for a young, modest lady by any length of the imagination, only my thick-tapestried wrapping gown. I pulled it tighter around my body.
And then the door opened, and he stepped into the hall, browner than before, but otherwise hardly changed. I thought briefly that the darker shade suited him before he spotted me standing like a trapped rabbit on the staircase. Once again I found myself subject to his amusement.
Drawing myself up to my full, albeit diminutive height, I demanded just what, exactly, he thought he was doing entering my house.
"I have been sent to accompany you to your family, and am doing what I have been asked to, my…" I held up my hand and he stopped talking. Once again I had come out the worst from our brief exchange. I decided to change my tactic, and flashed him my sweetest smile. He flashed me one right back-he did have the most gorgeous dimples…
"I could take you as you are," he growled in a tone laden with desire, " but I think your mother would prefer to see you dressed." His voice had changed instantly, leaving me feeling a little shaken. "My good lady."
Flushing with embarrassment I stumbled back up the cold steps away from that knowing smile. I had managed to calm myself down by the time I glided down the steps to meet him. I noticed he was not quite as calm as myself as I stopped close enough for him to smell my perfume. I enjoyed watching his slight discomfort, but he recovered well and offered me his arm to lead me to the waiting carriage. I was more than willing to accept.
We battled our wits again and again during the journey to where my family were. That single hour or so was quite possibly the happiest of my life. This was the first time that a man, and a muggle servant man no less, had treated me as an equal. No one treated me like this. It was a breath of fresh air.
"We should arrive before two." He said after our first moment of silence for the whole journey. This meant we would arrive within the next twenty minutes. I could not help it. I let out a sigh of disappointment which immediately caused him to smile.
"Perhaps my lady wishes this journey to be longer. Perhaps she wishes never to leave the carriage." He smirked as he came to sit beside me. He was moving closer, yet for all my 'grooming for marriage' as father liked to call the sordid affairs he arranged for me, I could not kiss him just yet. Not only would it be the greatest betrayal I could commit against my family, but it would also admit to myself just how much I liked him. And if I let him kiss me, would I be able to stop at just a kiss? I pushed him gently away from my side.
"Tom," I breathed, using his given name, "I do believe you are making improper advances."
"My lady," he replied in the same breathy tone, "I do believe that if I were to make any improper advances, which I am not, you would not only let me but would encourage them."
I should have slapped him for that. But deep down I knew he was right, and that stayed my hand as the carriage came to a jolting stop.
Immediately he lost the warm, friendly manner he had entertained during the journey. I struggled to do the same as he led me into a house which I vaguely recognised as Malfoy Manor. Although what we were doing here was beyond me.
He left me in the hands of their house elf, not even looking back as he walked away. He did not even call me his lady. I could not think what I had said or done to merit such a response.
I did not have long to ponder his behaviour. As I stepped inside the house, my mother appeared from one of the inner rooms. She had a gleam in her eye which would have terrified me, had I not been so preoccupied with the state of the Malfoy 'Manor'. What right it had to the title of manor I shall never know.
"You have taken your time, Morwena." The coldness of my mother's tone sent a shiver down my spine, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Sorry, Madame." I curtsied. "I was not aware you had need of me until T…the groundsman's apprentice fetched me." I corrected myself quickly. She raised an eyebrow but let it pass.
"I was against that muggle bringing you here," she said, turning and motioning me to follow her. "But you had to be accompanied according to your father's wishes. I am sure that boy knows too much. I shall have to renew his memory spells…"
I nodded demurely; surprised my mother had noticed anything about a muggle. Her disdain of our 'lesser' human servants was notorious.
She guided me into one of the small rooms off the hall. It was pitch black except for a small ring of candles in the centre of a circle of high backed chairs. She pushed me forward into the ring, and although I knew I was surrounded by people, I could not see a single face. A voice I recognised as my father's rang out of the blackness ahead of me.
"Morwena. Step forward and drink all contained in the goblet presented to you."
Oh. One of these.
As I stepped forward, a house elf, probably the same one that opened the door for me, thrust a goblet with the requisite smoke drifting down the sides towards me before scuttling off. The liquid, an opalescent blue, smelt sharp-definitely some kind of Veritaserum, and seemingly strong. The circle of chairs saw my hesitation, and a different voice which I did not recognise, spoke.
"Drink it girl!" he pitched the next question towards where my father was. "Did you teach her no decorum, Francis?"
My father growled as I hurriedly swallowed down the potion. I had been at the receiving end of my father's wrath far too many times to hesitate further.
I moved back into the centre of the pool of light when I had finished the potion.
"State your name and age." Yet another voice shot out of the darkness.
"Morwena Lilith Riddle, seventeen." My own voice sounded distant, a strangers.
"Birthday."
"Eighteenth of December."
There was a murmuring among the seated before my father's voice spoke out once more.
"How many have you had relations with?"
I tried to hold back but my mouth spilled my secrets of its own accord.
"Ten: Darion, Iain, Nikolaus, Mattius, Daniel, Robert, Henry, Edouard, Peto, and you my Lord."
"So many, Francis?" said the first unknown voice again. I could barely hear him over the raised muttering.
"To make a good wife only." My father replied sharply. "But it does not matter. She is pure enough for what we intend."
Then I was led out of the light, out and away from those demanding tones. Someone grabbed me from behind and something was forced down my throat, some fiery, burning liquid, which scorched all the way down to my belly, before I sank out of consciousness.
A/N: To answer some questions…
Morwena is living in the 16th century, around the time of Queen Elizabeth I. She is mainly good, hence why she was Sorted into Gryffindor, but of course, being brought up into an 'evil' Pureblood family will have some effect on her.
Secondly, I partly chose Lilith because it would have been what her mother had chosen for her. And I know that sounds weird talking about my characters as if they are real, but to me they are. Also I partly chose it because I found the name in one of my books, The Children of the Dust, and the girl in that intrigued me.
Thirdly, this Tom is obviously not Voldemort or his dad, but I thought it would be quite interesting to have a muggle fall in love with a Pureblood Riddle, considering how ironic it is when Voldemort's dad leaves his mother because she is a witch.
Thanks go to Virginia Malfoy Riddle for inspiring this story, Circe la Fey for Beta-ing, Fippets for reading over my shoulder whilst typing at school, Taurus07 for reviewing (get on with your stories!) and Dr. Rubadinghy for being so soppy, you old git.
Also, I now plan to only A/N either at the end of the story or #fingers crossed# after 100 reviews.
