By the time I returned to my room it was dark outside and I smelled to high heaven of antelope dung. I shivered to imagine what Voldemort wanted with a Giggling Draught. I still hadn't gotten any closer to developing my plan, but I'd enjoyed feeling busy.
Dolohov was waiting for me in a chair by the fire. Even sitting down, he seemed to barely fit in the spacious wingback. If his shoulders had been any wider, they would have gotten stuck.
"Is past time for dinner," he grumbled.
"Well I'm sorry. I'd have left earlier but seeing as I'm a prisoner, I had to wait for Snape," I snapped, too tired to be properly afraid of him.
"What do you mean wait?"
"He tied me to him with a ten foot spell all day. I'd assumed that was your doing."
"Idiot. The estate wards won't let you leave the grounds. The bedroom wards are for your safety, not to prevent escape."
I decided to skip over the reason for the bedroom wards for now, "So then I don't need to go around like a puppy on a leash?"
"Of course not. You may yet be a blood traitor, but you are of House Dolohov now. Still, I suppose Severus choses to air on the side of caution and avoid provoking me. He is not complete fool," stated Dolohov matter-of-factly.
I suppressed a shiver at the way that this man automatically assumed that a powerful, manipulative bastard like Snape would fear him.
Dolohov looked me over critically, his eyebrows drawing together, "What the hell are you wearing?"
I looked down at my discolored jeans and old jumper. Not my sexiest look.
"What I was wearing when I was kidnapped off the street by some snake-worshiping creeps," I snapped.
"Do not test me, little girl. And put on something less awful so we can go down and eat."
I sighed, "Dolohov, I don't know if you secretly fancy women's clothing, but I didn't exactly bring a suitcase."
Dolohov's annoyance seemed to fade slightly, "Ah I see. The elves should have told you. I have Parkinson's old wardrobe here for you."
I remembered hearing something about Buckbeak killing Parkinson in a battle a few years ago. Good riddance. From what I remembered of her fashion sense in school, I was expecting a storm of pink fluff. I cringed upon opening the closet, but everything looked surprisingly stylish. I suppose we'd all grown up.
It was a huge walk-in, so I pulled the door to behind me and picked a simple pair of burgundy robes off of a hanger. It probably wasn't smart to antagonize anyone by wearing Gryffindor colors. On the other hand, I reflected wryly as I pulled them on, a smart woman wouldn't be here. I was pleased with the overall effect- they must be spelled to fit themselves to the wearer. In fact, they were nicer than any robes I'd ever bought myself. It can't hurt to enjoy the little perks, right?
On the other hand, without the aid of my wand, my hair was the same curly rat's nest as ever. Nonetheless, I felt much better as I sauntered out of the closet. I felt a moment of frustration as Antonin got up without even looking at me and swept towards the door. I followed calmly, not willing to let him rush me.
Dinner wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Thanks to Severus's information, I knew now that the Malfoys and Dolohov were permanently residing at the Lestrange Manor, as Malfoy Manor had turned into Voldemort's base of operations. I was grateful for the forewarning that allowed me to look unruffled as I saw Bellatrix for the first time. She was sitting at the table eating an entire roast chicken off of a serving fork. The rest of the table looked disgusted.
"Hello, Poppet!" she cried out in a creepy parody of joy, "How was the honeymoon?"
I knew she was expecting me to respond with an obscenity and decided to throw them off kilter. "Good evening, Madame Lestrange." I rejoined cooly. I sat down and delicately settled my napkin in my lap, waiting for Antonin to join me before I started eating. "Madame Malfoy, I apologize for our lateness." Narcissa and Lucius simultaneously raised an eyebrow. I wondered if they'd practiced that.
There was a long, awkward silence as everyone stared at me. I allowed myself to eat calmly and politely as I distracted myself with images of Bellatrix being trampeld by a dragon.
Finally, Malfoy Sr. made a brave stab at conversation, and gradually the diners started chatting. Nobody spoke to me, but I saw all of them shooting surreptitious glances. Antonin only responded in monosyllabic grunts when spoken to. He seemed to be restraining himself from an outburst.
Although I didn't participate, I gathered much from the conversation. Apparently a gang of snatchers were staying in the "servants' quarters", but had not been invited to dinner. Much of the discussion consisted of poking fun at their low-class behavior, which I found ironic given Bellatrix's appalling table manners. In addition to that, I learned that Daphne Greengrass and Malfoy Jr. would be arriving Friday.
From what my intel told me, Greengrass hadn't really gotten involved in the cause, claiming delicate health, but her parents were big supporters. I wondered if there was a marriage with Malfoy Jr in the offing. As dinner ended, Antonin directed a polite comment about the food to Narcissa and pulled out my chair carefully. I took his proffered hand and stood up. To be honest, I was surprised by his manners. I'd expected Death Eaters to be dancing on the tables worshipping the devil or something. Besides Bellatrix, who seemed to disgust her companions, everyone else was surprisingly polite.
"Will you take coffee, Lady Dolohov?" A house elf popped out of thin air next to me and gestured to a small side table where a pot and cups had suddenly appeared.
"She will not," Replied Dolohov, "We are going up".
"Toni can't wait to get that robe back off her!" cackled Bellatrix, slurring slightly after her 4th cup of wine.
Antonin's face was like thunder. He didn't even draw his wand, but brought his hand up and slammed her against the opposite wall. "You will respect my Lady Wife. She is none of your concern." He bit out, smiling ferociously as Bellatrix choked, apparently still under his spell. Rabastan strode forward, grabbing his arm.
"Enough Antonin! Surely you can tell Bella is just making a friendly jest."
"It is not seemly. You know better, Rabastan, as should she." To my utter shock, Rabastan flushed deeply. I guess even Death Eaters have some basic social norms. With a vicious smirk, Dolohov released her and she slid to the floor.
We didn't talk all the way back to the bedroom, and I hovered uncertainly just inside the door when we returned. Dolohov heaved a sigh as he sunk down into an armchair by the fire. After a few seconds of sitting with eyes closed, he looked back up at me.
"Ugh. Sit down, girl. Don't stand there like a scared chit," he rumbled.
I sat in the other arm chair, stiffly waiting to see what he would do next.
He narrowed his eyes. "Look, girl, I didn't want you. I don't really know what to do with you. Just make yourself comfortable and stay out of my way."
"Okay," I whispered. Dolohov looked relieved and picked up the book he'd left open on the arm of the chair.
I sneaked a glance at the cover. Trans-substantive potioneering. Not a total moron then. And not bad looking, really. Apparently there was another side to the man famed for his brutality in battle. In addition to that, he didn't seem eager to defile me by force. It wouldn't do to seem like I'd cracked yet, but when it did come time to seduce him I didn't doubt I'd enjoy it.
My eyes roved from Dolohov to the books lining the wall. There were several that I was desperate to read, but I wasn't sure if I was allowed to touch them. I wanted to ask, but decided not to antagonize him just yet.
After a few minutes, Dolohov stalked into the bathroom and shut the door. I sneaked a glance behind me and then darted over to the bookshelf. I just wanted to have a quick look at Secreta magicis ericius. I shoved the book guiltily back onto the shelf as he exited the bathroom and whirled around.
Dolohov let out a short, booming laugh. "You can read the books, adskiy kot. You are my wife, my library is yours."
Oh yes, this wouldn't be so bad after all.