Chapter 4
I returned, broken hearted, some hours later to a house full of beautiful ladies in glittering dresses, and handsome men in dark suits, and a very angry mother who dragged me all the way to my room, thrust a dress at me and threw me inside to change. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I had forgotten my mother had arranged a party to celebrate the beginning of my coming of age. The dress was absolutely hideous, as far as I was concerned. The bodice was so low cut I may have just worn the skirts and there would not be much difference, and the dress itself was a ghastly dark green, which made my pale skin look sallow and my blue eyes look washed out.
One of our many house elves appeared at the door to present me to our company. Heaving a sigh at my appearance, I gave a final tug to my bodice, and draped my dress robes over my bare shoulders before following the little creature down into the hall.
It was quite possibly the single worst night of my life.
Not only was I leered at from afar by many of my male contempories, the majority of whom schooled abroad, but I was forced to dance with countless numbers of my father's friends and clients, many of whom were old, and smelled completely dreadful. And made no effort in pretending that they were not looking straight down my bodice. With each new gentleman groping me as we whirled about the dance floor, I felt a wave of heart ache wash over me, as I was reminded of Tom and his tenderness towards me.
Forbidden from touching the wine, I diverted my attention from my dance partners by focusing on who, exactly, had been invited. To my surprise, I noticed more than one member of the Malfoy family that night. My family obviously believed that they were either invaluable to my preparation, or on the rise in our world. I am inclined to believe the former. There were also of course some of the older, more prestigious families, although I noticed one ancient line seemed to be prominently missing from that night's events. The Weasleys, it seemed, were on the wane. Which was a pity, as I had rather an affinity with Iain Weasley, the oldest of the sons. After innocently asking my current partner why they were not present, I was enlightened to the fact that the family seemed to be becoming increasingly 'Gryffindor', and therefore not fit to associate with us Purebloods.
My family makes me sick.
Interrupting my seemingly innocuous conversation, my father tapped on one of the many glasses with a fork. A hush fell on the room almost immediately; he had no need to call for silence.
"I am sure there is no need to inform you as to why you are here tonight." There was a murmuring of agreement from the crowd, and one inebriated 'Hear, Hear!" from towards the back of the room. "Many of you know my daughter, Morwena, and have seen her grow up. Well, now is the time of her Coming of Age, and through her, will begin our Time of Rising. No longer will we hide ourselves away from the Muggles! No longer! We will gain complete power, and they shall bow down to us. But for my daughter to complete this, we will need your help! You know what you must do!" Harsh cheers emitted from the crowd of elegant people in the room. I could stay no longer. Excusing myself from the partner and surrounding company, I hurried away from the sight of my father leading his friends into something terrible.
And so my preparation began. Much of the first few weeks was endless reading of heavy tombs about shadows, necromancy, Shifters, Suckers, any number of the un-dead. I learnt about the great void that lay between our world and the next, a void which was thinner than a thousandth of a hairs breadth, but which still housed ghastly demons that would leech on to your spirit until you died from the burden; spirits which glided between the worlds like mist, but would drain your body of any life fluids if you walked into the mist. I learnt of lethifolds, of mangemorts and deatheaters, both of which covered graves, so that when a spirit tried to join the next world, they would be trapped forever.
And then came the spells. First, just the theory, which meant more reading and memorising of, spells which would put a great tear in the void and release all these creatures upon mankind. Then I learned spells which would harness these creatures, bind them to me to do my bidding, to attack who I chose. And then I had to practise these spells to an extent where if called upon to open the void, I could do in a wandsflash.
If I had been concentrating more on the task at hand, and not on Tom, or how to memorise spells, or where to find a lethifold, perhaps I would have realised. Perhaps I would have pieced together the clues they were feeding me a little at a time among the books, and discovered my task. And then again, perhaps not.
Of course, my constant spells which tried to rip the fabric between worlds could not occur in one place, oh no, for then I would break through before I could control whatever I released. This is where the 'help' my father talked about, came in. his friends and clients allowed me to practise in their own homes, knowing the risk that if the spell was too powerful, I might unleash the void dwellers upon them. But that, it seemed, was the price they were willing to pay, and I never questioned where I was to be sent.
Only, I never got sent to the Malfoys.
This struck me as dreadfully strange, seeing how amicable they had become with my father. But the moments of worrying about this were few and far between as I was sent to practise this spell, or read this book, or go to this house, or fetch this ingredient. The list was endless, and I did not have a moment to think. Which is, of course, how they meant it to be.
And then, at the end of the summer, I was summoned to my father's study for an interview, before I returned for my final year at school.
I entered his shadowy room with some trepidation. It was a place I had rarely been allowed in, and never alone. I briefly looked about me, and then stepped up to my father's desk and swept a low curtsey.
"You requested to see me, my Lord." I said quietly, holding my gaze on the rich red carpet. I could just see him give a slight acquiescing nod out of the corner of my eye.
"Morwena." The way he said my name made me shudder. "I trust you will not mention any facts about your preparation once you return to school."
"No, my Lord."
"Very well. Your coming of age will take place on the midnight of the twenty fourth of December." He looked up from a piece of parchment on the desk. "I believe your school finishes for Michaelmas on the fifteenth, three days before your birthday. Correct?"
"Yes, my Lord." I was like a startled rabbit.
"Well then, you may have the first two days as rest, and then on your Birthday we shall start the preparations for your coming of age."
"Thank you, my Lord."
"You may go." And at that release from him, I scurried out of the study and into the grounds to search for Tom.
I found him in our rose garden discussing the winter roses with my mother. She refused to let him near her, even when he was trying to show her one of the new breeds he had created. Her look of relief when I told her I needed to talk to him about planting for my private garden whilst I was away was obvious. Her dislike of muggles prevented her from seeing my real intention: to get him alone.
We pretended to be looking at some potential winter flowers as I told him of my plans.
"I am free for two days before my birthday, my love. It is to be free time, which I can spend as I choose, and…" I looked sideways at his face shyly, "I want to spend them with you, if you will let me."
A glint came into his beautiful eyes. "Just what are you suggesting, my lady? Not something improper?"
Oh he knew exactly what I was planning, and when I told him, he agreed. I meant not only to spend the days together, but the night as well, as husband and wife, even though it was impossible for me to marry him. But he agreed that in our hearts, we would know that we were far more than any legally wedded man and wife. And one day, I would throw off the shackles of my family and go to join him, and live as a muggle for the rest of our days.
What pretty castles we build when life seems fine again and we are with the ones we love. Indeed, how was I to know that a dark shadow was looming over us, even then, just waiting to come crashing down and destroy my idyllic dream? If only I knew then what I know now. Would I have been able to make any difference? For what mortals can stand in the path of Fate when She bears down in all her fierce glory?
