An Unfaithful Ex-fiancé
It wasn't in the newspapers. I reckoned Orion Black had paid a large sum of money to keep his son's death quiet.
And so I was the one to tell Sirius. He scared me. Not because he became furious and started shouting and throwing things – I was used to that – no, he said nothing, but clenched his jaw tightly together, his lips turning white. He stared at something over my shoulder while I finished telling him what I knew.
I tried to lock his gaze in mine, but he would not let me. "The burial is tomorrow," I said helplessly.
Sirius gave a curt nod to indicate he had heard me before he stalked past me and slammed the front door shut.
I sank onto the couch with a weary sigh. I scoffed at myself. Here I was, not even twenty-one, and I felt like an old woman. I had tried to find Regulus. Sirius's horrified and fearful face had burned in my mind. His little brother was wanted dead for backing out. And so I had tried to find him, searching with a vigour that the others had taken for fury about Regulus's flight.
Sirius had told me everything he knew about Regulus's life and friends, which unfortunately wasn't much. However, we needed every hint about his possible whereabouts.
All in vain. Avery, Nott, and Dolohov had found and executed him.
After hearing them recollect their success gleefully to the Dark Lord I had gone to Sirius's flat.
I wondered where Sirius had stormed off to, but decided that he needed some time alone. The thought he was in a right enough state to do something reckless crossed my mind, but again I decided not to go after him. When he had set his mind on something, nothing could deter him anyway.
I curled my legs under me and waited for him to come home.
In the middle of the night I was woken by a hot mouth pressing hard against my lips. I struggled in panic, until I recognized the breathing and the scent. Sirius's lips grew even more insistent and his hands tugged impatiently at my robes.
He didn't say a word, but the urgency of his grip on my body spoke loud and clear. I let myself be overwhelmed by his need and moulded into his kiss. Vaguely I heard fabric tearing somewhere, but I didn't care. He had infected me with his rush to feel alive, even before I realised I craved it too.
This was not love-making. Sirius took me hard and fast, still half-dressed, biting my shoulder and hissing when my nails left bloody scratches on his back. I could feel bruises forming on my thighs, but was too far gone to care. He hid his face in my neck when I wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders, feeling the straining muscles under his skin. Finally I succumbed to the tension in my body and dragged Sirius over the edge with me.
The second time I woke it was already morning. When I sat up I noticed I was covered by a blanket and my clothes had been magically mended. I could hear Sirius rummaging in the kitchen.
We spent the morning mostly in silence. Sirius never told me where he had been that night and I never asked. Though I doubted it was good for him, it was clear he did not want to talk about his brother. To this day I still don't know if he ever visited his brother's grave, but the hint of bitterness that had appeared around his mouth that morning would never leave him.
"Evan," I greeted the male half of the couple reserved. With considerably more enthusiasm I smiled at his wife. "Sophie, good to see you."
She kissed my cheek. "I hardly ever see you anymore," she reproved me. "You must come and visit more often. Now that I'm with child, I have to rest as much as I can; Evan says it's important."
His wife out of his way for nine months. Of course he says it's important, I thought viciously.
"Does he now?" I mumbled vaguely and glanced up at him. I swallowed when I found his eyes fixed firmly on me. Quickly clearing my throat, I said, "I promise I'll stop by more often, but I'm very busy at work. Cecil has managed to lay his hands on a fascinating scroll. We're still trying to date it, but chances are it was written before 800."
"How exciting," Sophie squealed and linked her arm in mine to lead me into her drawing room.
"Fascinating," Evan's voice drawled behind us, making my skin crawl.
"How is your sister?" I asked him over my shoulder to mask my discomfort. I sat down in a comfortable chair.
"Amelia? She's in Italy," he answered. "She claims the warm weather is better for her son."
"Why? Is Blaise ill?"
"No," he said laconically. "She just needed an excuse so Seth would let her go there."
"Well, I wouldn't mind a trip to Italy either. Not with this ghastly weather outside," I chuckled. "But alas, I have not married into the Zabini family."
"You should get married, Niamh," Sophie piped up. "It does a woman a world of good."
Evan quickly turned his laugh into a cough at the sight of my expression. I glared at him.
"Still abhorring tea parties, I presume?" he asked cordially.
"Yes. Quite," I answered slowly.
The corners of his mouth twitched as he looked at me over the rim of his teacup. My uneasiness grew when I noticed he did not take his eyes off me while I gossiped with Sophie. Squirming uncomfortably I tried to concentrate on what Sophie was saying.
"…and then Mrs. Fudge invited me personally to her soiree next Sunday," she twittered. "I was so excited. Evan won't let me go though. He says my condition is too delicate."
My eyes shot back to Evan and immediately caught his gaze. He'd still been looking at me. "You should let her go, Evan," I said pointedly, conveying my true meaning with my tone of voice.
Evan's eyes flashed. "I like to keep close what is mine," he replied softly, but just as pointedly.
I am not yours! I wanted to scream, but I controlled myself.
"He pampers me," Sophie commented indulgingly, her face shining. How was it possible she did not see what was going on? I smiled quickly at her.
"Darling, don't you think it's time you rest a little?" Evan asked his wife.
"Yes," she sighed. "I'm feeling a little fatigued."
"Well, I should be going." I stood up immediately. "I didn't mean to tire you, Sophie."
"Nonsense," Evan answered in her stead. "There's no need to leave. You haven't even finished your tea."
"I don't wish to intrude." My face was turning rigid, I could feel it.
"You never intrude, Niamh," Sophie chuckled. "Evan will keep you company, won't you, dear?"
"I'd love to."
Sophie rose from her chaise longue. "Well, goodbye, and don't be a stranger or I shall come and hunt you," she reproached me, kissing my cheek in goodbye.
I stood still for a moment to regain my composure before I sat down again. Calmly I picked up my tea cup and stirred the spoon carefully, even though I didn't use sugar. When the door to the drawing room fell shut I lifted my eyes. "What exactly are you playing at?" I asked sharply.
Evan leaned back in his chair and crossed his leg over the other, every bit the aristocratic wizard. "I do adore a good hunt, Niamh, and I don't give up easily."
Incredulously I stared at him, thrown off-balance once more by what lurked behind that handsome, chiselled face. I blinked a few times and clenched my jaw. "We've already discussed this," I hissed. "We are just friends."
"I would like to change that arrangement."
"I would like you to think about your pregnant wife upstairs who adores you," I retorted.
"She's my wife. I provide for her and treat her well – what more could she want?"
"You're being impossible," I sighed.
"Are you doing this because I chose for the family business?" he suddenly asked, a frown marring his features.
"No!" I exclaimed.
"Then why are you making such a problem out of this?"
"Excuse me? Why? They're called principles, Evan," I sputtered. "Ever heard of them?"
"Principles? What principles?"
"You're married; I like your wife." I hate you; I'm afraid of you.
"I married her for convenience. It's you that I want."
"Evan," I burst out tensely. "Please stop this now before you ruin our friendship any further." I placed my half-empty cup on the table and stood again. "Goodbye." Stiffly I walked to the door, almost jumping up in fright when Evan rose as well and followed me.
"Niamh," he said softly and put his hand over mine on the doorknob. The warm allure in his voice made me shiver. God, he's dangerous.
"Don't," I mumbled and averted my face.
"If there was no Sophie, would things be different?" he wanted to know.
"If there was no Sophie, you would still be waiting to fill your father's position and we wouldn't be having this conversation at all."
I opened the door, ignoring the fact that Evan's hand still lay on top of mine. Startled I looked into the face of Dunstan Rosier, Evan's father. "Mr. Rosier," I squeaked, wondering how much he had heard.
"Niamh," he nodded. "How do you do?"
"Fine, thank you."
Dunstan's hazel eyes scanned my face. I wished Evan would remove his hand, but he clearly had no inclination of doing so. I slid my hand out from under his and smiled at the elder Rosier. Dunstan had been one of the original Death Eaters, accompanying the Dark Lord from the beginning. Due to a serious injury to his leg years earlier he could not fight anymore. Instead he financed a great deal of his Lord's affairs and had let Evan take his place.
"Is everything all right in here?" he asked curiously.
"Of course," his son answered smoothly. "Niamh was just leaving."
"Yes, I was," I agreed immediately. "It was good to see you again, Evan. You too, Mr. Rosier. G'day." I slipped past both men, gesturing at the waiting house elf to see me out.
He just wouldn't leave me alone! Every public occasion I went to he was there too. I could always feel his eyes on me. The mixture of anger and fear it caused me put me on edge.
"Are you even listening to what I am saying?" Lana asked indignantly.
I smiled apologetically at my Hogwarts friend, who I had neglected for far too long. "I'm sorry."
"What has got your knickers all in a twist?"
I sighed. "Evan has. The novelty of being married has worn off, I'm afraid."
"Well, you can't have an affair with him," Lana immediately answered. "He's no good in bed."
"Huh?" I blinked confused.
"You told me so yourself! At Cissy's wedding!"
"What? Oh right, I did." I suddenly remembered my little revenge action. I had let Lana spread rumours about Evan's bedding qualities in retaliation to the fact that he was sleeping around with half the pure-blood society after our break-up, while I had been the one laughed at for being dumped.
Bastard! And to think that he expects me to swoon at his feet…
"You're doing it again," Lana sighed.
"What?"
"Drifting off into a whole other world."
"Sorry. Anyway, of course I'm not considering having an affair with him. He's married!"
"Oh yes, that too," Lana agreed casually, as if that fact were less important.
"So, how have you been lately?" I changed the subject.
"Fabulous, darling. And you? Still all work and no fun?"
I burst out laughing. If only she knew. "I'm afraid so, though I like this quiet episode."
"I was sorry to hear about Aoife," Lana said sadly. "How old is her husband again?"
"Forty-eight."
"Well, it doesn't really have to matter if he's er… young at heart…" Her voice faltered when I shook my head. "I see."
"I suppose she has some luck that he leaves her alone a lot," I shrugged glumly, "but he won't let her come and visit."
"We can visit her. O'Malley can't possibly have a problem with that," Lana tried.
I shook my head again. "Do you think I haven't tried that already? Mr and Mrs O'Malley appreciate their quiet life."
Lana let out a loud and disbelieving laugh. "Aoife? A quiet life? How stupid does that fuckwit husband of hers think we are?"
Several heads were turned towards us. Perhaps Mrs Crouch's party was not the right place to be discussing this.
"Whoops," Lana giggled. A little more seriously she added, "Perhaps it will turn out fine. Look at you, you didn't want to marry Evan and in the end you haven't. Maybe O'Malley will die in a year or so. If Aoife is a widow, she's free as a bird."
"Maybe she should let her house elf poison him," I pondered.
She chuckled. "By the way, how is your sister?"
"Deirdre? She's happy." Smiling a genuine smile, I continued, "She's very happy with Zabini." It was true; my sister and her husband were obviously in love. The matchmaking of their parents had turned out well. It was good to see Deirdre like that; my little sister would not have worries like mine.
"I don't see them," Lana commented, looking about the room.
"No, they're in Rome at the moment with Amelia and Seth," I explained. "Orion is showing her the city."
I swore under my breath when I saw Evan walking towards me with purposeful strides. "Dance with me," he requested, holding out his hand.
I scowled at him. "I don't feel like dancing," I said waspishly.
"Nonsense," he replied. "I saw you dancing with Fairfax, Graham, Lucius, and Rodolphus, not to mention Barty Crouch. You can't refuse me. Come on, Niamh, people are beginning to watch."
I handed my glass to Lana, who took it with raised eyebrows, and placed my hand in Evan's. He put his other hand on the small of my back, lower than was appropriate, and led me to the middle of the room where he pulled me against him, again closer than was appropriate. I gritted my teeth.
With a fake smile plastered on my face I let him lead the dance. I was unpleasantly reminded of my first dance with Sirius, on the Hogwarts Christmas Ball. It seemed like a century ago and I did not like the fact that I had connected the two dances in my head.
Someone tapped Evan on the shoulder. "Do you mind if I cut in?" It was Devon Malfoy, my sister-in-law's brother.
I smiled happily at my former classmate. I had not seen him in months. "Devon!"
"Yes, I mind," Evan snapped and moved us away from him. Devon blinked once and stepped aside, his shoulders squared in annoyance.
My jaw dropped in disbelief. "What do you think you're doing?" I demanded.
"He can dance with you another time. Right now you're mine."
"I am not yours," I hissed, still trying to keep my face from contorting in anger. "Get it through that thick skull of yours."
Evan twirled me out and back in, pressing me close as he placed his hand on my back again. His face was mere inches away. "We'll see about that," he smirked.
"How is Sophie? All alone at home?" I retorted nastily.
His eyes narrowed. "Careful, Niamh," he warned me in a soft, but threatening voice.
I swallowed and decided to change my tactics. "Please, Evan," I pleaded. "Stop doing this. I'm so tired of being the topic of gossip. Let me be."
"Very well then," he hissed. "You and I will have a drink and a nice chat, to show to everyone we are only friends." He grabbed my elbow and led me to the side, his fingers digging painfully in my arm.
"Let go of me," I ordered him.
"Not yet," he snapped. "You insist we are friends, do you not? Friends have drinks with one another. They spend time with each other."
I was beginning to get scared, even though I was in a room full of people. I held on to the glass he gave me to hide the trembling of my hand.
Evan leaned in to me. "Cheers," he whispered.
Severus walked by. "Try not to be so obvious, Evan," he said. "People are staring."
Immediately I took a step back from Evan and turned to his friend. "Dance with me, Severus," I exclaimed cheerfully and held out my arm.
I sighed in relief when Severus tucked my hand in the crook of his arm and led me away from Evan. His eyes burned in my back.
A/N: SexeiAlexeiGurl (great to hear from you again!), hpandfriendsruletheworld, Kurama-forever, and Messr-Paddifoots-love (I'm not exactly sure on the amount of chapters left - it usually turns out longer than I have them planned) : Thanks very much for your reviews. I can't wait for the seventh book. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for Regulus. Some people think it's too obvious, but I don't care! Besides, the initials are quite revealing in Dutch - so revealing that when I read the Dutch version I squealed out loud, making my dad frown in a way that suggested he thought his daughter had finally gone mad.
Anyways, review please!
