Okay guys, here it is, the next instalment. It took me the entire month to write this in between school, work and writer's block... I'm kind of annoyed right now with Alicia and Cassius because I have all these awesome scenes floating around in my head but I can't figure out a way to link them all together and work my way up to them all! So it's a slow process. I think this story's going to be a lot longer than I originally anticipated...
Now, to address a question asked by Sibel88 regarding chapter 5:
Theodore Nott is of mixedbood. Theo's mother, a halfblood, was his father's mistress when he was conceived, but when it became apparent that she was pregnant with him, his father divorced his first wife who'd been barren, as being childless is basically more unacceptable than having a mixedblood child. So it was his father's first wife who killed Theo's mother in front of him in an act of revenge. I'm sorry for all the confusion and I hope this clears it up. If not, feel free to ask more questions about anything!
PS: Yes, we will definitely see Cassius visiting the Rosier estates to visit some paintings soon... a certain Florence will have something to do with this as the story progresses... see FIGHTER if you haven't already for a little prequel-esque spoiler guys!
Thanks again to Sibel88, Etoile Black, NC, supergirl818 and Guest for all the reviews. Much appreciated as always, nothing gets me more motivated than hearing from you guys!
Sidenote on this chapter: it pretty much came out of nowhere so if some ideas don't seem that developed, let me know and I will work on it.
"Alicia! Alicia, wake up! Now! This just came for you - oh for goodness' sake, Alicia!"
"Urgh, mum!"
Alicia forced her eyes open and blinked groggily as her mother waved her lit wand in her face, half blinding her with the intensity of her lumos. Next to her, Skylar moaned into her pillow and tossed violently as Aurora waved her wand about, casting light into the sleeping girl's face.
"Alicia! Now, or you're going to be late!"
"Late for what?" Alicia muttered sleepily. Her mother peered down at her and Alicia recoiled as the light from the tip of her wand came dangerously close to her face. "Mum!"
"Good, got your attention now, have I? I'm not any happier about this than you are, but you signed on for it so there you have it -
"Signed on for what? What are you talking about?"
"Up, up, hurry, you're going to be late enough as it is!"
"Late for what!" Alicia whispered loudly as she forced her body to withdraw itself from the warmth of her covers.
Her mother tutted at her in disapproval.
"Dress-rehersal for your bloody ball, that's what!"
Alicia blinked in confusion as she reached out for her wand.
"Lumos. Dress rehearsal? What dress - oh. Oh. Shit."
"Language, Alicia!"
"But dad -
"Never mind your father, he's not the bloody debutante now is he?"
"Well you just said bloody -
Aurora glared at her, and Alicia withered under her mother's stare. She glanced haphazardly out the window and was pained by the sight of utter darkness. What time was it?
"It's five o'clock," said Aurora, as though she'd read her mind. "And this," she said, violently waving a letter in her face, "Just came from your grandmother. It seems she had the good sense to realize that you would probably forget about this sort of thing. Poor owl was utterly exhausted when it arrived so I had to send Cowlick in its place - must have flown at twice it's usual speed... Anyhow, there's a dress rehearsal tomorrow - or today rather - and you have completely forgotten about it."
Shit. She had, hadn't she? Of course she had... her grandmother had been sending her owls on a weekly basis since the summer - how in god's name was she supposed to keep filter and keep track of what was nonsense and what was... well, less nonsensical? The dress-rehersal had been the last thing on Alicia's mind, especially over the last month, and she hadn't even bothered to read her grandmother's last few letters... well. No wonder she'd forgotten all about it. She vaguely remembered something in the last letter she'd read from the old bat asking for her measurements...
Shit. And it was tomorrow? Or rather, today? Why hadn't Angelina said anything about it on the train?
Or maybe she had. She could hardly remember anything other than Cassius-I'm-a-wanker-Warrington attempting to pummel Carson's face in.
"... and I'm telling you, your father was absolutely livid when - Alicia! Are you listening to me?"
"Huh?"
"Oh for merlin's sake... we'll have to take the Floo -
"But She hates the Floo!"
Aurora scowled at her.
"Yes, I think I know that about my own mother, darling, but we don't have time to drive and it's much too far to apparate - you might end up in the middle of the ocean! I always hated apparating there anyhow... I can't think of any place more difficult to apparate to then a damned island."
"Language, Aurora!" said Alicia mockingly as she followed her mother out of her room.
"Don't give me cheek, young lady - I raised you and I sure as hell can spank you!"
"Ah, ah, ah, language Aurora! My goodness, you've certainly taken on the qualities of that ruffian of yours!"
Aurora looked back at her disapprovingly, but couldn't hide the little smirk tugging at her lips.
"Alright, you cheeky girl, go on down and have some breakfast... merlin knows She'll have you starve all day to shed a pound or three."
Alicia made a face and glanced at her mother.
"Dunno how you did it, mum -
"Oh, they only got as far as getting me to come out," her mother replied mildly as she set out the kettle to boil some water for tea. "I missed the entire Season... or the sham that I heard it turned out to be, anyhow - what with the war and all..."
Alicia cringed at the mention of war, and her mother looked away.
"I suspect this'll be one of the last proper Seasons in awhile," Aurora continued as she turned away to pour the water into a couple of mugs. "Feels like the last time around..." She set down the mugs on the table and sat down across from Alicia. "And you listen to me - if it's anything like the last time around... well you know wizarding Society. These events will be crawling with - with bad people. Blood purists. And I don't mean bad like No-Thumb Nigel or those boys of his. Your grandparents can only shield you so much but even they -
"They're ashamed of me," Alicia finished.
"They're not ashamed of you," said Aurora quickly. "They're ashamed of me. They - they're not purists, you know that... otherwise they would have cut ties with you, they wouldn't have asked you to come out -
"No, they just want to use me to redeem the family name. Yeah, I get it mum. I know."
Aurora sighed, and Alicia looked down.
"So if you know all of that, then why did you agree to it?"
Alicia shrugged.
"Like I said. She was crying. Said I was their last hope or something stupid like that."
Aurora rolled her eyes.
"Alright, alright, well what's done is done. Though I still say you can back out of it. But if you insist on going, then hurry up and eat your breakfast. If this is anything like my coming out, then gran and granny will already be up."
Alicia made a face and bit into her toast, purposely spraying crumbs everywhere just because she could; the rest of the day's meals would undoubtedly consist of daintily eating little meals without dropping a crumb.
"And Alicia..."
"Yeah?"
Aurora looked at her with a worried expression on her face.
"Be careful. And I'm serious... these purists - they - they might never take a muggleborn or even a half blood as a wife, but most of them won't blink twice at the thought of - of - seducing one and tossing her away. Or worse."
Alicia stared at her mother incredulously.
"Seducing - mum, we aren't living in a bodice ripper! And what could possibly be worse?"
Aurora shook her head and grimly stared at her.
"You don't understand because you weren't raised in Society, but it is like - like a bodice ripper in some ways. As for what could possibly be worse... that is something I sincerely hope you will never understand, but if a war is on its way... a lot of girls were lucky only to be tossed out to go off on their merry way."
"What do you mean?"
Aurora looked at her with a pained expression on her face.
"I don't suppose they've talked to you about the Kept Girls at school?"
Alicia shook her head and made a face.
"They aren't talking about much at school these days, not with Umbridge around."
"Well, these girls, they - they were called Kept Girls. Girls like you - half bloods, mixed bloods - all Society Girls who, when the lines were drawn, obviously found themselves on the side of - of you-know-who's opponents. When there were... I suppose you could call them Death Eater raids, a lot of these girls weren't... weren't killed right away... They were kept - that's why they were called Kept Girls. And for a variety of reasons... some personal, but almost always political, if not both... you know, you can't have mudbloods in Society!
Most of them were killed eventually, and a lot of them killed themselves after the war, after they were freed or had gotten away. And they were kept as... well, as slaves as you can imagine, just like in any war, magical or muggle... I'm not surprised you haven't heard about this, it obviously it isn't something people want to remember, but it's something you need to know if you're going into this. You're already going to stir some trouble because of who your grandparents are and because of me... people are going to be watching you, and not always for the best reasons. I'm not saying somebody's going to come out and kidnap you or anything like that, but... well, things being the way they are right now, I would feel better if you kept as low a profile as possible.
And another thing. If any of the purist lot try to get in with you, keep your guard up. I don't want to put it this way, but it's how Society people see things... you are your grandfather's heir. I mean, after I die, but you are still an heir and that's how people will see you. And they will try to use you to get close with your grandfather and sometimes, if it's advantageous to them, they'll try to hurt you in order to hurt him. I know it sounds crazy - why would a purist want to get close to a half blood if not to kill her - but your grandparents still hold a lot of clout in Society and they're pure, even if you aren't, and we aren't at war yet. And like I said... a purist might never take a muggleborn or a half-blood as a wife, but they aren't beyond sleeping with one and throwing her aside, or even keeping one around as a mistress if it has its advantages. That happened a lot too during the war... a lot of... of peacetime Favourites were protected as mistresses... for as long as possible, anyway."
"Peacetime Favourites?"
Aurora's face took an expression of disgust.
"Favourites. You know, like favourite girls, mistresses, whatever you want to call them. Well if some purist prick's favourite mistress happened to be a halfblood or a muggleborn, or even a muggle during peacetime - and mistresses weren't always Society Girls, even now I imagine - then obviously some problems arose during the war if he was off... off killing her siblings while shagging her on the side."
Alicia looked at her mother in horror, anxiety churning in her stomach as Cassius' face flashed in her mind. He could possibly be there today. Along with the rest of the Debutantes and their escorts. And Carson. At Flint Manor. Crawling with Death Eaters.
"Alicia? Are you alright? Look, darling, I don't mean to alarm you - but that's just... how things are - were. Who knows?" Aurora gave her a weak laugh. "Things might have changed now, right?"
Not according to Cassius, Alicia thought grimly, recalling their last conversation - or argument, rather.
And suddenly, she was angry.
Suddenly, she could hear Cassius' voice, still fresh from two days ago, ringing in her head.
Blood-traitor shit.
That sonofabitch.
He was just like the rest of them, the sodding hypocritical purists who were two damned proud to admit that non-purebloods were human, too damned proud to admit that pure blood fanaticism was impossible madness, and too damned proud to admit that yes, occasionally they wanted to touch a non-pureblood, and yes, occasionally they bleeding well did feel a little more than lust towards said non-pureblood, and yes, she specifically had Cassius in mind as her brain processed everything that she had experienced over the past three months and everything she had just heard in the past three minutes. That shit-eating sonofabitch.
"Inappropriately late as always, Aurora! And by Floo of all things - will wonders never cease!"
"Hello granny," said Aurora sullenly as she dusted Alicia off. "Mother."
"Aurora! Stop that at once! Look at all that dust! Minky! Where on earth is that awful house elf? And Alicia, what - what is that you are wearing? Minky! There you are, when I call for you, I expect you to be here at once! Now quickly, clean this mess up at once and - no, don't move another step or you'll ruin the rest of the carpet. And to think, this fireplace hasn't been used in a decade - look at this filth!"
"A decade, mum? Really? Why bother paying to keep it connected at all then?"
"Don't discuss finances with me, girl - how absolutely vulgar of you. I can see that your manners have hardly improved since the summer, though your weight certainly has. I can't quite say the same for you, Alicia, darling."
Aurora's eyes flashed angrily while Alicia flushed in embarrassment.
"Yes, well I saw you for all of five minutes then and I think I'm just about hitting that mark right now, so if you'll excuse me Minky - long time no see by the way - I'll be flooing home. Mother. Grandmother. Pleasure as always. And Alicia, eat whatever you want - you look beautiful, my love."
"Hmph, at this rate she'll pop out of her dress!"
"Well, we're witches, aren't we?" said Aurora loftily, before grabbing a handful of Floo Powder from the dusty jar on the mantlepiece and disappearing into the green flames.
Alicia stared in dismay at the empty fireplace.
She was alone now. With the two witches. In the sarcastic muggle-sense of the word. She shuddered inwardly as she turned around to face her stern grandmother and even sterner great-grandmother.
"They must take after your side," said her great-grandmother Adelaide after a brief moment of silence, haughtily glaring at her daughter-in-law and shaking her head in Alicia's direction.
Sophie DeWitt's eyes narrowed in irritation, but she dismissed the comment and instead called for another house-elf, quickly instructing it to get a bath ready for Alicia. It was time for the day to begin. And for those awful things her granddaughter thought of as clothes to be burned and never seen again.
"This," Alicia gasped in pain, "Is ridiculous!"
"Don't be silly. Tighter, Minky - just a touch more, not too much, mind you - the wasp look is quite out of date now."
"Don't we have magic to get this sort of look?" Alicia squeaked as Minky snapped her fingers, causing the corset to tighten around her another fraction of an inch. "Argh! Without the rib crushing involved?"
"Quiet, you'll wake your grandfather. And magic doesn't fix everything - you're a half blood, you should know that better than anyone! And magic certainly does not fix a figure, otherwise all witches would be tall, slim and beautiful, you silly girl!"
Alicia ignored the half blood comment, sadly used to her grandmother's subtle subconscious racism, and instead, fixed her rage on the offending item that was slowly squeezing the life out of her.
"Why do I have to wear this?" Alicia moaned. "The dress isn't even tailored for a corset!"
"Practice, Alicia - your posture is atrocious. You won't be wearing it out - just until we leave. And at least this way, you cannot bend in that unseemly manner - ladies do not bend over in public."
"But what if I drop something?"
"Drop something indeed! What are house-elves for, child!" her great-grandmother exclaimed in shock, her thinly plucked eyebrows nearly disappearing into her wrinkled hairline.
Alicia shook her head in disgust.
"Well... when are we leaving, then?"
"There will be a light ladies lunch hosted by the Flints, as they are organizing the ball this year."
Adelaide made a sound of disapproval.
"In my day, those girls would have been considered well onto the shelf."
"Yes, well, be that as it may, the luncheon will be held at Flint Manor. Poor Sylvia, she must be rolling in her grave."
"Slyvia?"
"Sylvia, the late first Lady Flint. Goodness Alicia, do you not keep up with politics?"
This is hardly politics.
"And to think you went to school with the Flint boy for all those years! He's from the second marriage. Who do you fraternize with?"
Alicia rolled her eyes and turned around with great difficulty to glare at her grandmother. Sophie stared back at her, looking positively innocent, her hazel eyes open wide with faux earnestness.
"I'm a Gryffindor, gran -
"Yes, yes," said Sophie dismissively, "But that's a poor excuse for not keeping up with what is what and whom is whom. No matter. That's what you're being introduced to society for, after all. Now then, Minky - I think the rose skirt and blazer should do nicely."
"Don't be ridiculous" said Adelaide, "That combination would look atrocious on the girl - look at those hips! Skirt and blazer indeed. Well... no one ever accused a Ravenclaw of being fashion conscious! Move aside, Sophie, let the professionals handle this. Gracious, child, whatever they're serving at that school of yours must be going straight to your bottom... I said it when your mother was in school, and I'll say it again... Beauxbatons was and continues to be the better school - have you ever seen a fat French girl?"
"I'm not fat granny," Alicia ground out through gritted teeth, cheeks blazing in embarrassment.
Adelaide and Sophie exchanged pitying glances.
"Of course you're not darling," said Sophie condescendingly. "What granny is trying to say is that you could very well be headed in that direction if you continue on as you do. We've been telling you every year since you were twelve -
"It's called puberty," Alicia snarled in irritation.
Adelaide's eyebrows rose sharply in shock, and would have completely disappeared into her hairline, if such a thing were possible, as the word puberty echoed throughout the room.
"Well!" said Sophie uncomfortably. "Whatever it is... Minky! Forget the blazer. We'll go for - the cream chiffon dress with the empire waist."
"A much more sensible choice," Adelaide sniffed with the barest hint of approval. "Now... Minky, put that aside for later. Sophie, be a dear and bring us that awful lavender gown - there, now, my dear, you may soil this one all you please."
Alicia mentally shot herself as Minky slipped the dress over her head.
"Well look that, Alicia, darling, you have a chest! Perhaps you should keep the corset on after all."
She mentally pointed her imaginary gun at her grandmother's head.
"Alicia! Is that you under there?"
"Hello grampy," said Alicia glumly as her grandfather strolled into the sitting room, newspaper in one hand, coffee in the other. Stiffly, upper body still aching from the corset she'd only been allowed to remove an hour earlier, she stood onto her feet and kissed her grandfather on both cheeks. He inspected her from head to toe and nodded in approval.
"Well, well, we do clean up quite nicely, I must say. Mother, Sophie - I take it this is your doing?"
"Of course it is, boy," said Adelaide sharply, glaring hawkishly at her son, "You should have seen the atrocity she was wearing when she arrived this morning!"
"And by Floo, of all things!" Sophie added.
"By Floo?" said Tristan in surprise. "I'm surprised you didn't get stuck - I don't think anyone's used it in -
"Ten years!" Sophie exclaimed. "And you should have just seen the mess - this entire room was covered in soot!"
"Hm, yes, well -
"Hang on," said Alicia suddenly, "If we aren't going by Floo and we aren't apparating, how are we getting there?"
"By carriage of course!"
"By carriage?" she echoed dumbly.
"Naturally. It's the only respectable manner of transportation for these sort of things... imagine how filthy it would be if a hundred people were to fly out of your fireplace! Not to mention, the risks of tearing your clothes on the way, or if you were to splinch during apparition - absolutely unacceptable. It's also a matter of tradition of course, and - goodness, look at the time! Minky! Prepare the carriage."
"You have a carriage?"
"Of course we do, my dear," said Tristan loftily as he looked up from his newspaper. "Have you never seen it?"
Alicia stared blankly back at her grandfather, who looked at her with a quizzical expression.
"Well haven't you ever wondered why we've two aethonans?"
Alicia frowned, but nodded slowly. It was true... they did have two aeothonans that nobody seemed to ride, with beautiful, gleaming chestnut coats and terribly wild tempers, named Magnus and Atlas. She'd been frightened by them as a child, and hadn't paid much attention to them since.
"Right. So they pull the carriage. And that's it?"
Her grandfather shrugged.
"They aren't much good for riding anymore - much too old these days. Magnus was an excellent show horse when your mother was about your age - she used to ride him in competitions, didn't you know?"
Before Alicia could respond, her grandmother cut her off as Minky reappeared in the room, signalling that the carriage was now ready.
Tristan stood and kissed Sophie and Alicia on the cheek. Alicia awkwardly offered her cheek to her great-grandmother, who pressed her papery skin against her face before sniffing in approval.
"Come along Alicia, no dawdling now," said Sophie as Alicia took one last glance back at her grandfather, who gave her an encouraging smile.
She sighed unhappily as she followed her grandmother out the door.
The carriage was waiting for them outside, the two horses snorting impatiently as they waited for the carriage occupants to arrive. Alicia cringed from the doorway as she caught sight of them, suddenly thrust back into the past when she'd nearly been trampled by Magnus - or was it Atlas? - after she'd snuck into the stables. Despite no longer seeming larger than life to her seventeen-year-old self, she couldn't help but feel a smidgen of fear as she stared into Atlas' eerily large eye.
"Alicia! What are you doing?"
Sophie was already installed in the carriage, and was waiting just as impatiently as the horses for Alicia to arrive.
"Er -
"What is it? Oh for goodness' sake, don't tell me you're still afraid of them!"
It was to Sophie that Tristan had brought a sobbing, frightened Alicia upon having discovered her cowering in the corner of one of the stalls. He'd practically thrust her into the arms of her horrified grandmother, who'd been more dismayed by the fact that her granddaughter would never become a great equestrian than by the fact that she'd nearly been trampled to death. Sophie gave her a withering glance.
"And how do you go to school, pray tell?"
"They're horseless!" Alicia exclaimed.
Sophie frowned at her.
"Horseless? Ah. Of course. You wouldn't know."
"Wouldn't know what?"
Sophie shook her head.
"Come down here at once. And they're not horseless. They're pulled by Thestrals. You wouldn't know that as it takes one who has witnessed death to see them."
Alicia resignedly made her way down the stairs and onto the gravel pathway. She approached the carriage doors from the back of the carriage, avoiding looking at the horses as her grandmother scoffed disdainfully.
"I ought to remind you," said Sophie once Alicia managed to crawl into the carriage, "That there will be a hundred more carriages once we arrive at the Manor."
Alicia gulped anxiously.
"I hadn't thought about that."
Sophie patted her knee with just as much sympathy as she had when Tristan had handed her off to her after the stables incident - that is, with none at all.
"As long as you don't make a fool out of yourself, my girl."
Alicia barely held back a shriek as the carriage suddenly shot into the air. Her grandmother tutted disapprovingly.
"Don't you play Quidditch? What good are your flying skills if you can't ride a carriage?"
Alicia let out a long mental scream of frustration.
"Alright, one more goal and then we head in," said Flint loudly from the goal posts as Montague whipped the Quaffle in his direction. Cassius sighed in relief. He'd just about had it with Quidditch. Flint had invited Montague over for practice drills, although his motive hadn't been purely charitable; his father was hosting the Debutante Ball this year in order to push his half-sisters into the spotlight and the prospect of being trapped in his house, no matter how large it was, with a hundred teenage girls had horrified him. Montague, delighted with the prospect of practicing in preparation for future scouts, had all but dragged Cassius along in order to give him a "taste of real Quidditch." He'd refused to believe that Cassius didn't want to play in the Big Leagues. And here he was now, four very long hours later, drenched in sweat despite the cold December air. If this was a taste of real Quidditch, he never wanted to fly again. At least, not with Montague and Flint.
As though his prayers had been heard, a sudden whoosh sent a chilly blast of air in his direction and he could hear a strange clattering sound from overhead. He glanced up, and nearly fell off his broom in shock as a giant carriage pulled by two blindingly white Granians shot past him.
"Shit! They're here!" Flint howled in dismay. "Come on, we have to get inside before they see us or else father will kill me."
"Forget your father," said Montague, glancing downwards, "Here come your sisters!"
Cassius looked down towards the house and indeed, Flint's two half-sisters had made their way out of the house and were motioning wildly at them.
Flint rolled his eyes and gestured rudely at them before pointing his broom towards the ground and shooting downwards. Montague and Cassius joined him.
"Get inside! You're filthy, all of you!" Helen, the older, fatter sister shrieked while Elizabeth, the horse-faced younger sister nodded violently. Cassius winced at the sight of them, for they were both dressed in the most unbecoming candy-coloured satin dresses which made them look rather like a pair of particularly horrid iced cakes. It was as though Helen had inherited all of the Flint girth while Elizabeth had inherited the height.
"Yeah, yeah, we're going," Flint muttered, glaring at the two. "Not like either of you are debuting this year anyway," he added under his breath.
"What?" said Elizabeth sharply, whacking her younger brother over the side of the head. Cassius and Montague glanced at each other, secretly laughing whilst struggling to keep a straight face.
"Oi!"
"Get inside! Now!"
"Bitch."
"Pig! Go or I'll tell father that you're ruining our luncheon!"
"You'll ruin it with your face," Marcus retorted hotly before storming into the house as Cassius and Montague followed him, no longer bothering to even conceal their looks of amusement as the two sisters were now behind them.
"And don't even think about showing your faces," said Helen as Flint led Cassius and Montague up the stairs.
"Or what?" said Marcus snidely, "You'll tell on me?"
"Just go, you nasty little twat!"
The boys climbed the stairs without another word, though Flint stomped hard enough that Cassius feared he'd put a hole through the steps.
"Well," said Montague suddenly, "No wonder they're not married yet."
Cassius held back a snort as Flint whipped around and glared dangerously at his friend.
"What did you say about my sisters?"
Montague looked at him with wide eyes, before holding his hands up innocently.
"Nothing, mate! Just that Adrian's a real lucky bloke is all!"
Flint Manor was located in a wild, hilly landscape covered in a coat of thick white snow and as the carriage suddenly pitched forward, Alicia caught a glimpse out the window of a local village with tiny wisps of smoke that drifted into the air from the outskirts of the estate.
"Quaversham March- it's a wizarding village," Sophie explained, catching Alicia staring out the window. "The Flints held a title until all that was abolished in the last century. All the big families are tied to little villages like that. The entire estate is unplottable - another reason why we had to take carriages - only animals can find it. Lean back now, we're about to land!"
Alicia braced herself for impact as the carriage started to straighten out, and she let out a grunt as it landed with a thud next to another carriage. Her hands shot out by instinct to stop her from propelling forward.
"Merlin, these things need seat belts!"
The Manor reminded Alicia of a medieval fortified castle without all the crumbling bits, and its grim stone architecture was a strange contrast to her grandparents' island villa with its large windows and white exterior that looked over onto the ocean. Here, instead of the ocean were hills of white, but these weren't like the hills of Hogwarts, which were overwhelming in their magnitude. It was simply... monotonous. Beautiful, yes, but monotonous. She hated the Villa, with all that it meant, but compared to the foreboding Manor before her and the endless stretch of white around it, the villa was a haven.
Alicia followed her grandmother into the manor, led by a house elf who'd been stationed outside to await the carriages. The elf snapped its fingers and the heavy, wooden knob-less doors slowly, silently opened to reveal the inside. Another house elf stood in the doorway and greeted them in its squeaky voice before ushering them in. They walked silently, except for their heels clicking against the marble floors, and she was suddenly reminded of the Slytherin locker room. Her cheeks flushed in irritation and in embarrassment.
The house elf led them to a heavy set of double wooden doors, and with the snap of its fingers, the doors opened wide.
"Lady Sophie DeWitt and her granddaughter, Alicia Spinnet," the house elf announced in its gravest voice.
Alicia sucked in her breath and waited for the staring to begin.
She was not disappointed.
Almost immediately, a collective murmur filled the air as Sophie led Alicia into the room, head held high. Alicia wildly scanned the room in search of Angelina, and she nearly died of relief when her good friend caught her eye and gave her a slight nod.
"Over there," Alicia muttered to her grandmother. Before Sophie could say anything, Alicia strode over towards Angelina's table, where was seated with her mother and another debutante and her chaperone.
"Alicia," said Angelina with an obvious tone of relief as she stood. Alicia leaned in for a hug, but a sharp nudge from her grandmother reminded her no hugs, la bise! Angelina sniggered softly.
Alicia inwardly cursed the French and gave Angelina a kiss on each cheek, before doing the same with her mother and introducing herself to the other debutante and her chaperone.
"I am Stefania Morenz," said the girl stiffly, who was as short as Alicia but as svelte as Angelina. Her tightly wound curls bobbed as she none too discreetly eyed Alicia up and down with a look of disdain. "This is my mother, Alexandra."
The entrance of another debutante saved Alicia from having to say anything more, and she sat down next to Angelina and her grandmother as everybody glanced towards the doors to see who had just come in.
"Countess Withers and her daughter, Lady Seraphina Tugwood."
Alicia stifled a snort and glanced at Angelina, who looked just as amused.
"Bubotuber pus," Angelina mouthed, referring to the Tugwoods' infamous late relative who had discovered the beautifying uses of Bubotuber pus.
"Pfft, Quidditch on horses," Alicia replied under her breath, referencing the other infamous Tugwood, Lord Stoddard Withers who had attempted to fuse polo and Quidditch a few centuries back.
"Alicia," Sophie hissed, keeping her eyes glued to the door and her smile perfectly etched on as she discreetly pinched Alicia from under the table.
Alicia winced and shot her grandmother a dirty look. The old bat beamed even harder.
"Now then, ladies," said the fatter of the two Flint sisters as the crowd of ladies followed her through the manor, "On the evening of the ball, you will enter from the left side of the corridor, and your escorts will enter from the right. A house elf will be in the lounge to direct you when it is your time. You will walk at the same time as your partner and you will meet here, at the top of the stairs. You will take your escort's arm, pause, and once you are introduced, you may descend together and be seated. Take a look at the tables around you. Each one has a name. Your seat today will be your seat at the ball. Take note if you think you will forget."
Alicia scoffed inwardly as several girls hurriedly scratched down the information into dainty little notebooks.
"Now, you will obviously be seated with your guests and those of your escort's. Please refrain from moving about until the dinner service is over. Once everything has been cleared away, the dancing will begin. Now then, for those of you who have not participated in the etiquette courses over the past summer, please be reminded of the following: as old fashioned as it may be, one does not dance more than twice with any man, including one's escort. Furthermore, one does not dance with any man without first being introduced. If you must reject someone, you may not take up another caller's request for that same dance..."
Blahblahblahblahblah.
"...and finally, absolutely no form of modern or muggle dancing is allowed. Specifically, anybody seen... gyrating in any way, shape or form will be escorted out and asked not to return. Such vulgarities may belong in Department 69, but they are absolutely forbidden at this ball. Now then, are there any questions?"
"And anybody seen gyrating in any way, shape or form will be escorted out and asked not to return!" Alicia sneered sarcastically to herself as she walked down the corridor in search of the bathroom. Had she already been down this way? The suit of armour seemed awfully familiar... it was like being in Hogwarts again for the first time, each corridor blending in with the last. Her grandmother had been aghast when Alicia had excused herself - ladies do not relieve themselves in public! - but there were some lines that simply had to be crossed. This was one of them. Now if only she'd actually asked for directions...
It occurred to her suddenly that she was in a magical home filled with moving, talking portraits who probably knew the home better than it's current occupants. She stole a glance at a portrait of a particularly well-endowed woman a large wobbling chin and watery blue eyes. While her expression was by no means friendly, she certainly seemed a lot more open to conversation than the two darkly clad gentlemen in the frame adjacent to hers, who looked to be in the midst of conspiring.
Before she could open her mouth to say anything, however, she was interrupted by an all-too familiar voice that asked in a eerily kind voice,
"Lost, are we?"
Alicia swallowed anxiously and slowly turned around, gently fingering the outline of her wand, which was discreetly hidden away in an invisible pocket in her dress.
"Spinnet!" said Montague, looking and sounding momentarily surprised.
"Montague," she replied as coolly as possible, though her heart raced in horror as she thought about the last time she'd been so close to the horrid prick. "What are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you the same thing. A bit out of place here, aren't you?"
He stepped closer to her, and she fought the urge to back away.
"I'm looking for the loo -
"Oh, that's not what I meant, and you know it, DeWitt."
He stopped in front of her and she shuddered as his smell invaded her nostrils. He smirked, as though he knew what she was thinking about.
"I don't like you, but I think you'd make for a good lay," said Montague out of nowhere. "Must be a reason why Warrington's so... keen on coming back to you, hmm? Did he ask you to be his whore yet?"
He reached out and she slapped his hand away. He laughed coldly, his voice ringing down the corridor.
"He's here right now you know. Next corridor over. I could fuck you right here, cast a little silencio on you, maybe a tie your arms back so you couldn't move - and he'd never know a thing. Nobody would know a thing. You are lost, after all."
Alicia fought back the urge to vomit and clutched her wand in her pocket.
"You're disgusting," she snarled with as much animosity as she could muster, though her voice quavered and she knew by the look on his face that he'd heart it too.
"Hell, I'd probably end up doing old Cassius a favour - I'm almost quite certain it'd turn him off of you if he ever found out that I used you all up... maybe get him back to normal even."
Montague reached out for her again and this time, Alicia shoved him back with all her force - which, sadly, turned out not to be much. Worse, he took advantage of their physical contact to wrap his arms around her, one pinning her arms to her side, the other around her neck. She gasped for air as he squeezed just a little tighter.
"You should be more careful when you find yourself in the enemy's den," he hissed into her ear, his callused thumb running over her lower lip almost painfully as he momentarily slacked his hold around her neck. "Halfblood. Absolutely useless. And to think you've a wand on you..."
Alicia shuddered as the arm around her waist slid down to skim her sides.
"Ah, there it is," he murmured as his hand ran over the outline of her wand. "Bitches can be clever... invisible pockets, all for the sake of fashion." He pulled out her wand and dangled it in front of her face, tightening his hold over her neck so that she couldn't try to escape when his arm left her waist.
Suddenly, he let her go, and she spluttered for air as Montague leaned casually against the wall, tossing her wand into the air and catching it, grinning mockingly at her.
"You fucking bastard," she snarled.
"Mistaken identity much, DeWitt?" he asked cheerfully. The sound of a door shutting somewhere nearby echoed down the corridor. Montague smirked at her as the sound of footsteps began to reverberate in their direction.
"Must be your knight in shining armour, though last I hear you two had a bit of a tiff, did you?"
Alicia glanced wildly behind her before returning her gaze to Montague.
"Where's my wand, you slimy sonofabitch?"
"Language, Spinnet, honestly, one would think a debutante would have some manners! Look down."
Alicia followed Montague's gaze and gritted her teeth. He'd tucked her wand behind his feet.
"Go on," he said encouragingly. "I won't kick you."
"Fuck you."
"Well, I might if you insist on talking to me like that!"
Alicia fought the urge to kick him in between the legs, and threw him a dirty look before crouching down to reach for her wand. Montague kicked it back behind him so that it rolled right up against the wall. She looked up at him furiously, and he smirked.
"Looks like you'll have to get on all fours for that," he said silkily.
"You prick," she hissed. His cold green eyes glittered menacingly.
"So I've been told. Better grab your wand before I change my mind... I just might kick you after all. And normally I'm not the type of bloke who goes around hitting girls, but I think you've proven to me enough times on the pitch that you actually enjoy things... rough."
Alicia flushed at his horrid innuendo and she glared up at him as he shifted his stance wider so that she couldn't simply reach around him to grab the wand without risking a good kick to the side of the head. He smirked down at her, nodding encouragingly, thumbs resting casually on his belt loops.
"What are you waiting for?"
With a growl of anger, she quickly dropped down to her hands and reached out for her wand, pretending with all her might that she was not presently on all fours in a chiffon dress in Flint Manor, crawling in between one Graham fucking Montague's legs. She'd just managed to grab her wand when suddenly a slow clap and a low whistle pierced her eardrums.
"Found yourself a debbie already, have you?" said the all-too-familiar voice of Marcus Flint.
"Oh, not just any old debbie," Montague replied as Alicia quickly shot onto her feet and whirled around, face flaming, wand out. She stared, horrified, at an equally aghast and amused Marcus Flint and a terribly emotionless Cassius Warrington.
The three of them stared at each other in silence for a moment as Montague fiddled around with his belt -
With his belt?
Alicia twirled around, praying feverishly that the sodding git hadn't done what he'd just done, but as Montague stared back at her, eyes sparkling with cold triumph, she knew that she'd just been played. Bad.
"Not bad, Spinnet," Montague drawled, "Though you could stand to use a bit of practice."
Alicia raised her hand to punch him in the face, anywhere, anything to get him to shut the fuck up, but somebody's hand clamped down on her wrist from behind her. Cassius. She was too angry to cry, too mortified to say a word -
She wrenched herself out of his grasp and turned to face him. He stared back at her, face blank, but eyes drawn and frozen.
"I'd wipe my mouth if I were you Spinnet," he said coldly, "Wouldn't do to go back to your little luncheon with lipstick all over your face. People might get the... wrong idea."
Smeared lipstick? Fucking Montague, he'd planned the whole goddamn thing from the second that door had slammed. She tore off her white kid glove and ran the back of her hand violently over her mouth. Pink.
In the meantime, the three boys had started walking away, Flint and Montague chuckling quietly amongst themselves as Cassius walked steadily behind them, each step stiff with rage. Alicia looked up from her hand and stared at their retreating backs, unable to accept what had just happened until she was left alone in the corridor with nothing but her pink-stained skin as a souvenir of how far she'd fallen down the rabbit hole.
Read and review!
What did you guys think? Montague's turning out a lot slimier than I'd thought he would but he's pretty much just writing himself out... he cares about Cassius in his own messed up way... he knows war's coming just as well as they all do and I think he's just doing what he can to get them separated, while having some (terrible) fun at the same time.