Aquila knew now that she never should have mentioned the stupid annual Valentine gathering. Oliver was determined to go with her now, despite how often she told him he'd hate it. She hated it. It was stiff and formal, and nobody let her forget that she was only a halfblood. But he was right. If she had met his family, he should meet hers. But she didn't agree that it should be so full on. Oliver had come to visit her parents in their smaller manor house in South Kildare. He had been suitably gobsmacked. Aquila was always embarrassed by her family's wealth. There were peacocks. She thought that summed up the extravagance of her home. But it was nothing compared to the Valentine Mansion on the continent. Oliver was an instant success with her parents, however. They liked his calm, dignified demeanour. And they simply adored his Scottish accent. He stayed with them for a couple of days before the dawn of Valentine festivities. That morning when Aquila woke up, she felt a flutter of panic in her belly. She listened to the rain drumming against the large bay windows of her large bedroom. She sat up, and clutched her belly. She felt sick. Oliver groaned in his sleep, and wrapped a bed-warm arm around her. She stroked her fingers on his arm absentmindedly as she considered all that she had to do. Shower, wash her hair, dry her hair, do her hair, makeup, dress. Do her mother's hair. It was a lot of work.
Oliver muttered something sleepily into her waist.
"What?" She gazed down at him. His face was lined from the pillow, and his hair was a mess, but she could have sworn before a jury that he had never looked better than he did now.
"You're stressed." he said, more clearly this time. She took a deep breath.
"My family is stressful." She combed her fingers through her knotted hair, panic and stress still roiling in her belly. Oliver rested his head on her stomach, stretching his legs out.
"It's going to be okay." She let out another breath, feeling the knot in her stomach loosen slightly. Now she was feeling glad that she would have him there with her. She slipped out of his arms, stood and stretched, before making her way to the large ensuite attached to her bedroom. The warm shower water served to loosen the knot in her stomach further. She took her time scrubbing herself clean, and massaging shampoo into her hair. The smell of the lavender shampoo itself was enough to make her smile. It wasn't going to be all bad. She would get to see her cousins, and aunts and uncles. They doted on her. But she would also have to see her brother. The knot tightened itself again. She towelled herself off, slipping on a bathrobe, and was in the process of towel drying her hair when she returned to her room. Oliver was up. He'd made the bed, and laid his formal wear out on the covers. It hadn't occurred to her that he would be wearing a kilt, but it seemed the most obvious thing to her now. He was concentrating on smoothing out every wrinkle that he didn't notice her coming back in.
She set about magically drying her hair, and pulling on her slip. Being able to use magic at home now made everything easier. It took her less time than she thought to be ready to leave. Her hair was in a perfect French braid that hung heavily over her shoulder. She wore a long eggshell-blue dress of chiffon that pooled delicately around her feet. She was wearing more makeup than she ever usually did. She had to be presentable for her grandmother. Once she was finished doing her mother's long blonde hair, she came back to her room for a final time. Oliver was fully dressed now in a dark green kilt, and black formalwear jacket. He was sticking a sgian-dubh down into the top of his thick woollen sock, when he looked up at her.
"You look absolutely beautiful." He had a delicate smile for her. It was so refreshing for a boy to say that to her and for his eyes to stay on her face.
"I was about to say that to you! Dammit!" He chuckled lightly.
"It's not too much is it? This thing is really formal, right?" There was an adorable crease on his brow.
"Believe me, even the height of formal isn't formal enough for my grand-mère." Aquila rolled her eyes, but smiled. She was excited for her family to see Oliver. He was handsome, and smart, and determined. All traits that her grandmother approved of. "My parents have gone on ahead. We should follow them soon." Oliver smiled at her, and took her hand.
"Are you okay" She nodded and took a calming breath. The thought of seeing her brother had her terrified, but it was just something she would have to do.
She stowed her wand into the small bag her mother had given her, and apparated with Oliver clutching her hand into the sunshine of the South of France. The massive mansion stood up against the deep blue sky, gleaming white in the sunshine. They stood together on the rolling lawns bordered by rose bushes. Oliver kept a calm face, but he felt him squeeze her hand. Hundreds of people were milling around in very expensive clothes from all over the world. The Valentines had married into every possible family of prominence. Their numbers were vast. Aquila recognised nearly every face around her.
"We should go and find my grandmother. She will want to know I'm here. And she'll want to meet you. Doubtless she knows everything about you already." Oliver gulped audibly. She squeezed his hand in a gesture of comfort. Aquila knew exactly where her grandmother would be. They headed towards the house together, stopping every now and then to greet one of her cousins or aunts. Nearly everyone was speaking in flurries of French, when she introduced them to Oliver, however, they had the good grace to speak English. They made their way up the Palladian steps to a granite courtyard, where her grandmother lay on a red velvet day bed, observing the proceedings. She sat up a little when she saw Aquila.
"My little eagle!" the old woman gasped, in throaty French. "How I have missed you!" Aquila leaned down to kiss her grandmother's cheeks twice.
"Your garden blooms most beautifully this year, grandmother." She knew that it was her pride and joy, and the old woman smiled knowingly.
"And who is the handsome Scotsman, you bring before me?" her grandmother asked, in equally throaty English. Oliver stepped forward, and offered his hand.
"Oliver Wood, ma'am. I'm… a friend of your grand-daughter's." The old woman sat up straighter, and pulled Oliver down to give him a kiss on each cheek.
"It is lovely to meet you, I'm sure. The captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team! A great achievement. You will be one to watch I feel." The old woman gave him a smile with her pearly teeth. Oliver looked very pleased with himself, and Aquila was proud of how well he conducted himself. "Little Eagle, a word, if you please." Aquila smiled at Oliver, who stepped away, to busy himself with food. Aquila sat at the foot of her grandmother's lush daybed. She had the sharp cheekbones of the Valentine family, and the lightest blue eyes of them all. Her grandmother slipped back into French when they were alone.
"My darling, of all the Valentine's, you are the truest to the name. I am so proud of you." Aquila smiled gently. "Your blood status has never mattered to me. You were always my favourite." Aquila wondered why her grandmother was saying these things. "My darling, I am to make you my heir. You will inherit this house and it's lands. The bulk of my money. My jewels, the title. You will be the Duchess after I am gone, my dear. It will fall to you to arrange marriages for those who still wish it to be so. I do this, because I love you. And to me, you are the purest Valentine left." Aquila was stunned into silence. How was anybody meant to reply to that. It was the equivalent of being told you were a Princess. "And I want you to hold onto the boy with all your might. Men rarely deserve the brilliant women they find themselves with. He's a rare find." Her grandmother's eyes twinkled, before she lay back down. "Leave me, I must rest." Her grandmother waved her off, and Aquila got up slowly, and walked to Oliver, feeling numb all over.
"Everything okay?" His gentle voice was soothing, to say the least. She smiled at him.
"Let's just say when my cousins rub it in my face that I'm a halfblood, that I secretly now have the upper hand." She smirked, wickedly. Oliver smiled back, looking confused.
"This you have to explain to me."