Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.
This story takes place after the war.
I glanced up at Lucius from the piles and piles of Charms homework that he had set me at the beginning of the week, and sighed, "Does this get any easier?"
"No, now carry on," he smiled, "Stop distracting yourself."
I groaned, "But this book is so.. Big!"
The textbook in which I was referring to was The Standard Book of Spells, written by Miranda Goshawk. Apparently this was one of the obligatory manuals we, as students of Hogwarts, were required to read, memorise, comprehend and then, perform the spells we learned. As of the first week of my gruelling training, I had been ordered to read the first to versions of this book, grades one and two, just so, and I quote, I 'understood the basics'. In the first grade version of this book, I learnt the most basic, first-year spells that, according to Lucius, could be done whilst incapacitated.
He was wrong.
They took time, effort, energy, magic and Jesus, was it hard, but I did it, and by the end of the first three days, I was able to complete, successfully, 9 easy, every day spells, that set my heart alight. I was so proud of myself, however I barely had time to celebrate before I was thrown headfirst into the second grade volume of the book. Again, it took me an embarrassing amount of time, but I did it, and I was able to properly disarm my opponent, as well as unlock bolted doors and make spontaneous fires.. This one took me a little longer to perfect, but I did it. Thankfully.
By the second week, I was ready and waiting for whatever challenges Lucius could throw at me, and I swept through each volume with an acute precision that was not my own. Before long, I was able to react against the more basic of attacking spells by using my wand without a moment's hesitation, and, oh God, I could see how proud he was of me, but he couldn't show it. He didn't want me to become overconfident, then make mistakes, potentially hurting myself, or other's around me. The third volume of the book was a lot more intricate, and a little more difficult that the first two, but I triumphed, with a smile, and barely a lick of sweat along my brow. Every night, however, I would crawl into bed, and be completely dead to the world, or that was until 7am rolled around, and I was sent trucking through the motions once again.
Because I was to be placed into Draco's year, simply for convenience and accessibility, apparently, I was told I would have to read up to the eighth volume of the Charms book, and, not for the first time, I was thankful for my brilliant memory. I soaked up the spells, like a sponge, memorising and repeating them verbatim, without even a twitch. The summoning charm, Accio, quickly became my favourite, and I used it on regular occasion throughout Malfoy Manor, irritating the life out of my mate's and their house-elves, of whom I had grown quite fond of.
The non-verbal spell-casting involved in grade 6 through 8 was the trickiest for me to get my head around, and it took me the longest - nearly a fucking week to learn one unspoken spell, however once I got the hang of it, and knew how it felt inside then I could do it with anything he handed me - to the shock of Lucius, and his.. My family.
Currently, I was on the eighth, and thankfully final, textbook, and I was simply referring through the contents, wondering if I had missed any spells, and upon realising that I hadn't, I continued with the never-ending homework that he continued to pile in front of me. The absolute sadist.
-0-
Narcissa's lessons weren't at all any easier.
They consisted of bowing, curtseying, and smiling, constantly, to attract flocks of women, who, apparently, talked nothing but everyone else's business. Sitting in the correct way, breathing shallowly, but not to quickly, as to draw voyeuristic attentions to my chest. And still stay smiling. The cups had to face the correct way, so the wind direction could swirl the steam from the warm cups of tea away so they didn't condense on the front of my many, many, many, dresses, of which I probably wont wear. Speaking of clothes, those Goddamn corsets could rearrange the order of someone's organs, and they wouldn't even know it, considering they were so fucking tight.
Narcissa was all about image - on the surface, at least.
She was a dainty blonde, with a killer smile and an eye for detail, and during her lessons, she wasn't afraid to point out my faults.
"You're slouching too much, deary, your clothes will crease," she would say, in that tone that left no room for argument, but was soft enough to still sound kind and considerate, "Sip, not slurp. It's unladylike."
To remove's one's gloves when making a formal call was enough for a sharp snap on the wrist, to use her terms, at least. Never dawdle, or stare, aimlessly around a room. Never divert your attentions from your guest, lest of all be occupied with something else entirely. Never look at your watch, or a timepiece while speaking to another. If you are the hostess of a party, or gathering, of a group with less than 6 people, you are able to socialise freely with your guests, however if it is large gathering of guests, you muststay at the door and usher them in, with a perfectly placed smile. Never walk around a room, waiting or otherwise, unless you've been asked. Never turn your chair on your guests, or play with ornaments around a room that is not your own, especially with company. Never, and she was especially concerned about this, never concern yourself with the occurrences in another's home. If you notice something that is not to your pleasure, turn away until it no longer bothers you. That is the way of the pure-blood.
Her lesson's never lasted as long as Lucius', or even Draco's, however they were just as psychologically trying, and I couldn't say that I enjoyed them, however simply being in her vicinity was enough to put a smile on my face, and apparently that was enough for me.
-0-
The worst, however, was Blaise's classes, simply because I had never felt so out of my element that when I was around him.
He moved with the natural rhythm of a predator, and that set me on edge, every single time we were in the same room as one another, let alone when I was forced to be seated, for an hour, every morning and night, having his vampiric aura practically rub against my own. He watched me, meticulously, either out of his peripherals, or just plain staring across a room, but it was the looks that unnerved me. It was the pure, unadulterated passion in his eyes. If he could, I swear it, he would have set me alight with a simple glance, and I felt my groin heat up within minutes of being around him. They flared alive every time I even so much as glanced his way, and they made me react in ways that I didn't understand.
It was a strange sensation, and sometimes I wondered whether or not he had something like an Allure that just drew people towards him, like a bee to a honey pot.
Back home, I was never much for 'boyfriends' or whatnot. Honestly, I thought, wholeheartedly, that I was a lesbian. It wasn't something that ever bothered me, but it never occurred to me that the reason why I wasn't attracted to other boys my age was because I had already had predetermined mates of my own, who could fulfil me in every facet.
His classes never failed to leave me breathless, yet at the same time, so hungry for more. He taught me about my family tree, and subsequently just how far back the vampire gene goes.
Apparently it was the great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandmother, Greta, who was first bitten by a rogue vampire in the early 1700s that first brought the vampiric gene into our family's bloodline. Her parent's ostracised her, of course, due to her 'damaged' genes, and she went on to marry a beautiful man with the last name Totum. Her son was the first 'born' vampire in our lineage, and so forth was cultivated the feared Totum line.
There were a few downsides, though, that I learned on the second day of our private classes.
"We don't live forever," he said, with a small crook in his lip, "We have an extended lifespan, compared to that of a regular human, by nearly triple, depending on your health habits as a person," then after giving a small glance my way, he added, "Garlic doesn't bother us much, strong sunlight might give us a little bit of a headache now and then, but that's just because we have sensitive eyes. Wooden stakes couldn't pierce out skin, and crucifixes are nothing but accessories. If we don't feed regularly, we waste away. Our mates," he said, exhaling, softly, "They are paramount to everything else in our lives, and are the most important people to us as dark creatures."
I could hear the hesitation in his tone to talk about it, especially considering I could guess that it would get a little awkward, or heated, or even both, knowing my luck. He wanted to tell me, but he didn't want to make me uncomfortable. His dark hair fell into his eyes, slightly, and his eyes.. They had to be my favourite part of him, if I were being honest. They were so dark, yet expressive and sultry, all at once. I could see so many things flittering through his indigo orbs, yet I couldn't even think of how to express what I was seeing.
Probably against my better judgement, I asked, tentatively, "I'm sorry, this might get uncomfortable, and.. And I-I understand if y-you don't want to answer, b-but I j-just get confused sometimes. We're m-mates, right?"
He simply nodded, stiffly, and I continued, "And Draco, too?"
He acquiesced once more with a dip of his head, his eyes completely shielded from me now, and I finished, pathetically, "So what does that mean exactly?"
He took a moment, his mouth opening and closing a few times, setting my stomach on edge, once more. He sighed, once more, before answering, factually, "In its simplest form, it means that we are, and always will be, connected. Your magic directly reflect my magic, and in turn Draco's. There is no other vampire, or Veela out there who could be so perfect for us, respectively, as you are."
My mouth was dry, and I couldn't find the words to fully convey the depth of the emotion I was feeling, so I simply settled on, yep, you guessed it, crying. Like a little bitch. I knew I was coming on my period soon, but Jesus, could I have, you know, not cried, in front of, probably, the sexiest Italian in the entirety of the world? I swear, I will forever remember that as the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.
But, surprisingly enough, he didn't comment on the redness of my face, or the wetness dripping down my nose and chin, yet simply gathered me in his arms, and held me close, which, of course, brought on a whole new set of tears, for absolutely no reason, whatsoever. Yep, easily the most embarrassing 10 minutes of my life.
He clasped his hands together, and rubbed them, generating some heat in a room that already sizzled with warmth, "So, you want to get back to work, la mia anima?"
With a wink, I answered, intuitively, without really realising it, "Certo!"
His eyes turned towards me, his indigo eyes wide and filled with molten shock, and he stammered, "You speak Italian?"
Nodding, blankly, I replied, "Since I was a kid… Why?" not quite understanding why he was so shocked at my statement. I wondered, idly, if I had done something wrong in what I had said, but not really seeing how I really could have. He shook his head, after a moment of being purely void of all emotion, and replied, "Nothing.. Let's get back to work, alright?"
And we did.
It's late, I know. I'm so sorry. I wasn't able to access wifi, so I'm sorry, my lovelies!