CW: Minor character death/murder
December 24th, 1977, Christmas Eve
The gown was stunning. It was a deep navy blue silk floor-length number that hugged the best parts of me and left little to the imagination. The neckline at the front scooped just above my cleavage, doing nothing more than teasing at what might be found underneath. The back, however, left little to the imagination. The scoop of it hit well below my shoulder blades, showing off my scar every time my hair swayed out of the way. With a simple glamour, it was invisible to the eye. Effie insisted on a pair of white elbow-length gloves, explaining that I'd look like an idiot without them – well idiot wasn't her word but the subtext was there. She'd tamed the mess of straight and curly waves into a decadent cascade of curls that hung down my back in an elegant twist. We'd finished it off with more makeup than I'd ever worn in my life.
I stared at the woman in the mirror and wondered: who the hell are you? A year ago I was at home wondering if I'd ever see Harry again, and now I hadn't thought about Harry in… well it had been far too long since I'd thought about Harry. He seemed like a distant memory, a part of a different life, and I guess that he was in a way. It was like I'd lived two lives. One here, and one there.
My conversation with Sirius rang through my head again, I'm trying to make it worth it. Tonight would make it worth it. It had to. If it didn't – then why the hell was I here?
A gentle knock on the door caught my attention and I turned away from the stranger in the mirror.
"Come in," I called.
Sirius stood in the doorway looking like sin. He wore perfectly tailored dress robes that accentuated his broad chest and long neck. The hair that normally hung wild and artfully messy along his shoulders was pulled back into a tight ponytail at the base of his skull. His jaw was smooth, missing the normal dusting of five o clock shadow that I'd come to expect from it. He looked simultaneously the best and worst I'd ever seen him – so handsome and yet so entirely not himself.
"You look incredible," he breathed when our eyes met in the mirror. I felt a blush creep up my neck and reached up to tuck a stray hair back into its place.
"Don't look so bad yourself."
"I look like my father," he murmured. The muscle in his jaw clenched tightly.
"I hope not." Attempt a joke, what could go wrong? "Don't think I'd want to shag your father." He grimaced. Well, that could have gone worse.
"Hope not," he shrugged. He fiddled with something in his pocket for a moment before stepping further into the room. "I wanted to give you something."
"Christmas is tomorrow."
"Thought you might want it tonight."
"What is it?"
"Well, you'll have to open it to find out." I fixed him with a glare and turned to reach for the box he held out to me. I fingered the gold paper it was expertly wrapped in.
"Did you wrap this yourself?"
"It's one of my many hidden talents: gift wrapping."
"Many? What else haven't you told me?"
"I'm a dab hand at underwater basket weaving." I couldn't help the snort that escaped my lips. "There she is." He smirked down at me. "Thought I'd lost you under all that makeup." A warm heat started to spread through me, easing the nerves and the tensions and replacing it with something akin to the desire I'd felt for him last night, but it didn't leave me aching for him. It was a new feeling – a feeling I couldn't quite name, something like want but not that exactly. "Open it."
I made quick work of the wrapping paper, opening it to reveal a little black jewelry box. I fixed him with a raised eyebrow. "You better not be proposing to me, Black."
"Trust me, Red, if I were proposing, you'd know."
I rolled my eyes and flipped the box open. Inside was an ornately crafted pendant. It was a crest with a constellation in its background, the stars depicted in emeralds, and a golden eagle flew across the sky holding a wand in its beak. At the bottom, Toujours Pur was spelled out in tiny elegant script. The details of it were small, highlighted in gold and silver, and I couldn't help the gasp that escaped my lips as I looked down at it.
"My Uncle Alphard gave it to me before he died," he murmured. "It's been passed down to every firstborn son in the Black family line for centuries. To be given to their betrothed on the evening of their engagement, a symbol that she will become a part of his house."
"I can't take this."
"Yes, you can."
"I'm not marrying you."
"Of course not," he scoffed and took the pendant out of my hands motioning for me to turn back toward the mirror in the process. "It's a bunch of horse shite anyway, but it is very pretty." He brushed the hair hanging down my back out of his way as he moved to bring the necklace around my neck. "Everyone will know what it is when they see it."
"Marking your territory?" I asked with a wry smile. His fingers ghosted along the nape of my neck as he fiddled with the clasp. When the cool gold rested against my skin he leaned down to brush his lips along my shoulder – at the top of my glamoured scar. I shivered.
"Think of it as an extra layer of protection," he whispered against my skin. "Or you can think of it as another way to bait Lucius Malfoy into giving you what we need."
"It doesn't mean anything."
"I know." Our eyes met in the mirror and I realized that he was just as scared as I was. I turned to face him, reaching up to trace the smooth jaw with my fingertips. "This crest, these words, I don't believe in them."
"They're just words." He shook his head.
"They're a poison that's infected the Black family – hell most of the pureblood families." He took a deep breath and reached for the pendant that now laid at the center of my chest, fingering it gently with a faraway look in his eye. "I never wanted to go back there."
"You don't have to." He rolled his eyes and placed the pendant against my chest again.
"If they try anything, Ginny, I won't go with them," he murmured. "If they try to force me to stay, I'll die first." My eyes widened at the revelation and my heart started to hammer in my chest. "Moody made me promise, if something happens to you I come back alone with all the information – I need you to promise me that if it looks like they'll make me stay if it looks like my family will win, you'll make sure I'm dead and go."
"No."
"Promise."
"I won't kill you."
"I won't ask you to, just make sure I'm dead first. I'll take care of the rest."
"Sirius-" he silenced me with a kiss, slow and desperate. He was careful not to smudge my lipstick or to wrinkle the grown that hung around me, but it served its purpose. I still had my protests – my questions – my absolute determination that we'd both make it out of tonight alive and unmarked – but I surrendered myself to this what if. The 'what if' in which tonight falls to shit – in which one of us, or both of us, dies.
"It's getting late." The voice from the doorway tore us away from each other and I found myself hiding my red cheeks behind Sirius' chest as he turned slightly to glare at James in the doorway.
"We'll be there in a minute," Sirius replied with a clenched jaw. James threw up his hands in surrender.
"Moody wanted to come looking, be glad it's me mate." Despite his protestations, he moved away from the doorway to give us a minute alone.
Sirius turned his eyes back to me, the question from earlier still dancing in his gaze. "We do everything we can to make it back," I murmured waiting for him to nod in agreement. When I saw him slowly nod his ascent I continued: "but if at any point it looks like that's not going to happen – they don't take us alive."
"We get the information, we get the hell out, or we die trying."
Downstairs Moody and James were waiting for us in the parlor. James fidgeted by the couch, wringing his hands, and running them through his hair every few seconds as we made our way into the room. Moody leaned against the mantle as he watched me with a stoic eye, the only sign of his nerves could be found in the slight twitch of his left eye. His eyes flitted down to the pendant that rested just below my collar bone and quirked an eyebrow in question.
"You look the part," he said gruffly as he met us in the middle of the room. He pressed a bobby pin into my palm. "I have a feeling that if we put a tracking spell on the parchment something bad will happen, there's one on this pin. Don't take it off until you're back here, understood?" I nodded and pushed it securely into the curls at the back of my head. Moody handed a galleon to Sirius. "Same thing." He pocketed it. "All of my intel says that Malfoy jr is the one we should be targeting. He's in the inner circle, and the one we stand the most chance of getting information from. Some others to note are his father, anyone with the last name Lestrange, or Antonin Dolohov."
"Alright," I nodded, feeling the weight of the mission on my shoulders fully.
Moody's eyes flitted between Sirius and me quickly before landing back on mine. "You get home, understood?"
"I'll try."
"Don't try, do it." His gaze flashed toward Sirius. "Both of you are to come back here."
"Yes sir," Sirius muttered, sounding more respectful than I'd ever heard him before.
"For what it's worth, I didn't want to ask either of you to do this – make it worth it." We nodded as he moved back toward the fireplace. Sirius reached toward the cloak rack and pulled his cloak around his shoulders, and turned to fasten Effie's borrowed cloak around mine.
My eyes moved to James who stayed rooted to his spot staring at us both as Sirius' fingers fiddled with the clasp at my neck. When he turned back to face him, James stared with wide eyes that signaled sheer panic.
"Just off to a party, mate," Sirius called to him. James offered a weak half-hearted shrug in response.
"Save some pretty girls for me to dance with?" Sirius slipped his hand into mine and gave James a shrug of his own.
"Only if you can trick them into dancing with you." James smiled, never quite letting it reach his eyes.
"Keep an eye on him, Ginny?"
"Course."
"I'll see you both soon," James prayed.
The familiar pull of apparition overcame me as the image of James' worried face spun out of view. We landed with a loud pop outside of the gates of an old manor. It was breathtaking and monstrously large. The trees leading up the path to the entrance were dancing with fairy lights and tasteful silver garland. As the wind blew the yellow lights turned blue. I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders, whether it was because of the wind or out of terror I wasn't sure. Sirius held out his arm shakily and I took it. We supported each other as we made our way up the path toward the doors to the manor. He held his jaw tightly, and I could see the muscle tensing and un-tensing every few seconds. He'd started erecting his mental walls sometime around lunch and even though his body was next to me, his mind was somewhere far away. I couldn't blame him.
I'd been doing my own mental lockdown all day. My occlumency was strong, it was the only thing that kept me sane on the worst days of my sixth year, but the pressure of the guestlist for the evening meant that it was in overdrive. I had a sharp throbbing at the front of my skull that had started two hours ago and was only getting progressively worse. On the bright side, if anyone tried to break into my mind tonight they'd be met with very little.
The walk up to the doors was too short and we were at them in seconds. I turned to look at Sirius, still tense and distant, and squeezed his arm reassuringly.
"It's going to be fine," I reassured him.
It wasn't convincing because he let out a sharp breath through his nose. "Whatever happens, keep your head. Don't react."
"Promise" He gave me a tight nod and lifted his arm to knock on the door. It opened in the space of a second and a small house elf was waiting for us. She bowed low and held out her arm for us to enter.
"The Nott family welcomes you, may I take your cloaks?" she croaked with her nose on the ground. Sirius turned and took my cloak from my shoulders, handed it to the elf, and then removed his own. I felt so exposed and brought my arms up to cover myself. He grabbed my hands quickly, bringing them back to my sides.
"Stop," he whispered gently, he brought his fingers to my chin and lifted it up to him. "This is your birthright, never slouch, never lower your eyes, walk with purpose. They'll pounce the second they see you sweat." I must have looked every bit as panicked as I felt because he leaned forward to place a soft and gentle kiss on my lips. It melted a little bit of the ice that was seeping into my veins. His eyes softened as he pulled away. "You look beautiful."
Normally I would have blushed under his praise, but I couldn't muster it. All of my energy was focused on his instructions and my occlumency. Maybe this was a mistake. "Let's do this."
I saw a change wash over him as he squared his shoulders, straightened his spine, and lifted his chin. The swirling storms of blue in his eyes seemed to dull as the set of his jaw shifted. It was exactly what James had told me to expect and yet I found myself caught off guard by the stranger who stood next to me. He wasn't the Sirius I knew, he was what they expected him to be – what he needed to be tonight. I took a breath and tried to copy him, dressing myself in the costume of a pureblood heir. It felt dirty and wrong, but it was necessary.
We followed another elf to the ballroom, though we didn't really need the guide as the music and laughter was director enough. The room was full as we made our way into it, and decorated to excess. Garland was strung from every rafter, a dozen Christmas trees lined the room, and a gentle snowfall was coming from the ceiling it dissipated about two feet overhead and never quite made it to the ground. Pureblood witches and wizards of all ages littered the periphery of the room, dressed in the finest robes money could buy, and in the center, a brave and graceful few were dancing to a string quartet. The cavalier nature of it all made my stomach turn. This was just an excuse for a party to them. Didn't they understand what they were doing? Of course they do, Ginny. I chastised myself. The murder and enslavement of muggles and muggle-borns was a cause for celebration to them.
Sirius guided me over to the right side of the room where a witch in her twenties and a middle-aged wizard waited to greet us. The wizard was tall and thin in that aristocratic way I'd come to associate with Lucius Malfoy. They looked like they could have been distant cousins – they probably were given all the inbreeding of purebloods through the centuries - but while he was sharp and angular, his wife was smooth and rounded in all of her features, yet they shared a nose and large brown eyes. She was quite beautiful, with raven hair, and a small thin frame.
"Sirius Black, why I never thought I'd see the day," the man drawled as we stopped in front of them. They reached for each other and shook hands cordially as I stood nearby – invisible.
"Gabriel Nott," Sirius replied. His vowels were elongated and perfect, his consonants clean and crisp. He spoke in that posh way that he and James always used to punctuate the perfect joke. They had to have learned it from somewhere. "I had to hear it all for myself, and I'd hate to miss another one of your wife's parties."
The woman in question blushed beautifully and giggled under his praise. "Sirius Black, always the charmer." She held her hand out for him next and he placed a kiss on her gloved knuckle.
He straightened and brought his arm to my waist. "May I introduce Ginevra Cole."
I fought the urge to look at the ground or fidget as the couple appraised me, instead I steeled my nerves and looked up into the eyes of Gabriel Nott. They glinted with appreciation and raked my body for a brief almost imperceptible second before landing on the pendant at my neck. When it registered what I was wearing the older man's eyes narrowed. The tightened grip around my waist signaled that Sirius noticed. I held my hand out to Mr. Nott, just like his wife had done to Sirius a second ago.
"A pleasure to meet you," I smiled warmly. He brought his lips to my hand. Thank merlin I put on gloves.
"Cole?" It sounded like something naughty coming out of his mouth. "French?"
I nodded politely as I pulled my hand out of his grip. "Yes." I turned to face his wife, effectively ending the questioning about my heritage. "Mrs. Nott, you have a lovely home."
She eyed me suspiciously, but the polite smile stayed on her face. It was only her eyes that gave away what she was thinking. She'd noticed her husband's appreciation, and didn't like that it was directed at me. "Thank you, Ginevra."
"Please, call me Ginny," I shook her hand.
"Ekaterina," she replied. "Please, help yourselves to some refreshments. I think my husband owes me a dance."
She reached for his hand gently, pulling him away from us toward what, I assumed, was going to be a tense conversation in leering at women. Sirius tightened his grip on my waist and pulled me toward a table full of champagne. "Fucking creep," he muttered under his breath as we neared the table.
"It's fine."
He raised a single eyebrow in response, handing me a glass of champagne as he turned to face the room. I was grateful to have the wall at our back for a moment, effectively hiding the target we clearly bore. My eyes swept the ballroom. He wasn't here yet.
"I never thought I'd be at one of these again," he mumbled into his champagne flute. If he hadn't mentioned his discomfort I never would have noticed. He stood tall and confident despite it. Not a hair was out of place, not even a finger dared to twitch to show his hand. It was with a practiced calm that his eyes swept the room. A familiar smirk found its way onto his face. "It would seem we're the talk of the party."
"I think you're the talk of the party."
He scoffed. "Not in that dress." He eyed me appreciatively. "I'm invisible if you're wearing that."
The blush crept up into my cheeks before I could stop it. "Shut up, we're not here to flirt."
"No, we're here for a party." He downed his glass of champagne quickly before stepping in to close the distance between us. "Dance with me."
"We're not here to party, Sirius."
"No, but we're here to start a feeding frenzy," He quirked his head toward the dance floor. "Dance with me." He pulled me by the hand toward the center of the ballroom where we joined the other couples. He bowed to me properly, waited for me to curtsy in response, and then he took me into his arms. The dance was one I remembered from third year, an evening spent dancing with Neville until my feet hurt from being trodden on and from overuse. Tonight was different, Sirius was an incredible dancer, and his grace at leading made me look like an expert in turn.
The dance's purpose was twofold: the feeling of his embrace was comforting ensuring that the knot in my stomach could loosen, giving me a moment of reprieve from the sheer terror I felt at being here, and it gave us a chance to look around. There were probably 100 guests in attendance. Everyone, it seemed, knew each other. They stood around chatting but there was a strange distance to it all – like no one was actually friends. They held each other at a distance as they spoke, despite standing shoulder to shoulder. I searched the room for faces I could recognize. Lucius Malfoy was the first who caught my eye he stood near the front of the room, a blonde-haired waif of a woman clinging to his arm as he conversed with an older man who looked nearly identical to him. He caught my eye for a brief second before Sirius whipped us around, I breathed a short sigh of relief to be out of his line of vision. As we moved around the floor I took notice of the sheer number of people who were staring at us. When everyone knew each other a newcomer was clearly a source of excitement. It was mostly men eyeing us in appreciation and jealousy, only looking away when their wives took notice.
"I don't think this is what Moody had in mind, you're making us stand out," I said into his ear.
"Moody has no idea about the intricacies of pureblood society." He turned us around and I noticed a group of younger men, barely out of Hogwarts watching us closely. "I may have been disowned, but the Blacks are still the envy of all. I've made you the most desirable woman here. Not that it took much." The muscle in his jaw tensed again, and under different circumstances, he might have given me a playful wink. But there was no room for that here.
He brought me out into a spin, and as I returned to his arms he leaned to whisper in my ear.
"Evan Rosier is about to ask you to dance." He dipped me low and brought me back up quickly, our faces a breath apart. "He graduated from Hogwarts 3 years ago. He's high up from what I know. If you flirt, he'll tell you anything." His jaw muscle clenched as he finished the last bit. I took a steadying breath as the music ended and we stepped apart to applaud the quartet. In the space between us, Rosier arrived.
He was as tall as Sirius and incredibly handsome but there was a sickening quality to his beauty almost like something wasn't quite right, the features too perfect – too symmetrical. He caught me staring with his black eyes like pools of ink that threatened to drown me. I shuddered internally at the memory of drowning in ink. A horribly indecent smirk marred his face as he appraised what he saw.
"Sirius, how is it you manage to stay away so long and come back with the most beautiful witch?"
Sirius flashed me a look of warning before returning Rosier's smirk. "Black family charm." They clasped hands like old friends. A harsh pat on Sirius's shoulder reminded me that they weren't.
"Back for good?" the older boy asked with a harsh glint in his eye. Sirius looked away coolly.
"Back to listen," he shrugged. Evan's smirk turned into a harsh smile at the implication.
"And I suppose you're the one to thank." He turned his attention to me. An appreciating glint in his eye.
"You'd be correct." I looked up at him through my lashes, doing a near-perfect Lavendar Brown impression. I put my hand out toward him like Ekaterina Nott had given to Sirius a little while ago. He took it and placed a firm kiss on my knuckles, never breaking eye contact.
"Evan, this is Ginevra Cole. Ginny, Evan Rosier." Sirius clenched his jaw tightly, looking past my head as he spoke. In the brief second that our eyes had met, I felt his silent resignation to the part I was going to have to play for the evening, the part that involved leaving his side and dancing with death eaters.
"Sirius, may I steal Miss Cole for a dance?"
The only indication of his dislike was the tendon that flexed in his jaw, but Sirius covered it up with a polite smile. "Of course, I'll be over there." He leaned down to place a chaste kiss on my cheek, before walking purposefully back toward the table of champagne in the corner.
"Ginevra," he said it like it was something filthy. It took everything in me not to shudder. Instead, I replied to his bow with a curtsy.
"Evan." I matched his tone and stepped into his waiting arms. We stepped into a near-perfect waltz.
"I don't believe I've ever seen you before, Ginevra."
"You haven't." I tested the waters with coy first, seeing what tactic might draw him in. His eyes narrowed a little.
"Your parents, are they-"
"Very much dead." He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "But very private when they were alive."
"My condolences."
"Thank you. I've been looking forward to this evening." I changed the subject quickly, choosing not to notice the hand that slipped from the bottom of my shoulder and down to my waist. "I heard a rumor."
"Oh, do tell?" He spun me out and back into his arms with practiced ease. I took a second to smile up at him through my lashes again, laying it on thick.
"Is it true," I started then changed my tone to match his filthy one, "Evan," his eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips like he was preparing to taste my own. "will he be here tonight?" I let myself sound giddy at the thought, disguising my disgust with excitement for his pleasure. It worked.
"He will," he grinned.
"You've met him?"
"I have."
"What's he like?"
"He's incredible." We continued to move, spinning and circling the floor as the music swelled. It covered up our conversation from the prying ears of the pureblood socialites who danced around us and watched our every move from the periphery of the dance floor. "To stand next to him is to know true unbridled power."
"You've stood next to him?" I prompted him for more.
"At his right hand, Ginevra." There it was. A weakness – a pinprick-sized hole in the tank I could weasel my way into. Evan Rosier was prideful, and I was a pretty girl he could boast to. I let my eyes squint a little like I didn't quite believe him. He took the bait. "You look surprised."
"You're so young, I thought he'd only-"
"He rewards his most loyal. I've done him a great service, and now I receive a great reward."
"What great service have you done for the Dark Lord?" I pressed at the hole, forcing it bigger as I flirted. "Evan?" I let my lips curl around the consonants, and felt his hand press tighter against my waist. He pulled me in closely – too close for comfort – and whispered in my ear.
"I tamed the werewolves." The knot in my stomach tightened. I sucked in a sharp breath at the revelation. Werewolves. Voldemort had already gotten to the fucking werewolves. "I've frightened you."
"No," I exchanged my shock for laughter, mimicking the musical laughs of society women around me. "Surprised, maybe."
"You don't believe me?"
"How does one tame a werewolf, aren't they beasts?"
It was his turn to laugh now. "Now if I told you all my secrets, Ginevra, you might use them against me."
I brought my fingers away from his shoulders, dancing them lightly up his neck. He suppressed a shudder at my feather-light touch, and I saw his tongue dart out to moisten his lips again. I pushed it farther, wrapping my finger around the hair that rested at the base of his neck and giving it a gentle but firm tug. I leaned in so he could feel my hot breath on his neck. "Something tells me you prefer other things being used against you, Evan."
I leaned back to find black eyes staring at me greedily. I brought my hand back to his shoulder.
"You want to know how to tame a werewolf?" I nodded at him slowly, batting my eyelashes in that way men always seemed to enjoy. "Well, Ginevra, I imagine you already know."
"I do?"
"It's the same way you'd tame a man." I brought my bottom lip in between my teeth, letting him believe this was a part of the game – that I was thinking about all the ways I might try to tame him, instead of all the ways I wanted to kill him. "You give him exactly what he wants."
"Exactly what they want?" My stomach turned, and I used the refuge of the spin he sent me in to regain my composure – to readjust the costume I had stepped into. Give the werewolves what they want.
"Exactly. What. They. Want." He whispered in my ear as he brought me back to his chest. I was pressed in close, he could feel every curve that I had to offer against him. It was with sickening shock that I realized just how much he'd been enjoying our conversation.
The music ended around us and Rosier broke away to sink into a deep bow before me, a prideful smirk on his face. We applauded the musicians and I turned to face him again.
"Thank you for the dance," I smiled sweetly. I half expected him to grab a hold of me and drag me out of the ballroom, but the rules of pureblood society and the pendant around my neck protected me. Thank merlin.
"Do you get the prophet, Ginevra?"
"Of course."
"If I make the front page, you owe me another dance."
I fought the urge to widen my eyes in surprise, suppressed the desire to interrogate him at wand point, and swallowed the itch to slap him – I repressed every compulsion to be myself at that moment – to be a member of the Order. Instead, I dressed in the purity of my blood, drank in the lust of his gaze, and returned it. "If you make the front page."
I left him behind me and turned to find Sirius. Werewolves. Fucking Werewolves. They were planning something with the wolves, and it was going to make the front page. My stomach was churning as I made my way across the floor.
Sirius wasn't watching me, or waiting with bated breath for my return, he was talking to someone new. He was short, and broad, with dark hair and piercing green eyes. He was older – mid-twenties maybe – with a wild glint in his eye that made him look half-mad. Sirius looked up as I approached and I saw a tiny bit of tension ease from his shoulders. He's worried.
"Ginny," he greeted me with a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Rabastan, this is Ginevra Cole. Ginny, this is Rabastan Lestrange, my – um - cousin." I fought the look of surprise as it threatened to take over my face as I turned to face the man next to him. He hardly resembled the wanted photos I'd come to associate him with and counted myself lucky to have never met him until now.
"Pleasure to meet you." I held out my hand and like everyone else tonight, he kissed it.
"And you." His lips lingered on my knuckle for a little longer than they needed to and I pushed down against the urge to sneer in disgust. "Rodolphus and Bella will be so disappointed to have missed you."
"I thought they'd be here tonight." Sirius snaked his arm around my waist, pulling me into him at the mention of the other Lestrange's.
"On business for the Dark Lord." Sirius nodded without reaction, sniffing into his champagne flute as if he wasn't impressed. Rabastan's gaze dropped down to the pendant at my collar and his eyes flashed to meet mine with an insidious gaze.
"It would seem you two are the talk of the party," Rabastan drawled at me.
"Are we?" I feigned innocence.
"Oh yes, the last time any of us saw Sirius he was cursing the Black name – a year later and he shows up ready to honor it. Bit of a twist, if you know what I mean." I felt Sirius' arm tense against my back and the knot in my stomach twisted. For a second I felt panic bubble up inside of me as my head started to chant a chorus of fuck, fuck, fuck. But instead of giving in to that feeling, and reaching for my wand, I turned to lock gazes with Sirius instead. Praying he would follow along, I reached up to him and wrapped my hand around the ponytail that hung on the nape of his neck. I gave it a slight tug which he leaned into – going so far as to let his eyes flash dark for a flash of a second before looking at me with a small smirk. I turned back toward Rabastan to find him watching the interaction closely.
"A lot has changed since Sirius and I met," I replied. Sirius nodded slowly without taking his eyes off of me. "He just needed some help seeing the light, so to speak."
"So it seems." Lestrange watched us closely for a moment more and when he couldn't find whatever it is he'd been after he took a long drink from his champagne flute. He turned to face the party as the next song died down and an excited murmur moved through the crowd. A wicked smile crept up his face before he turned back to us. "Please excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be."
"It was nice meeting you," I smiled sweetly.
"Enjoy the show." He disappeared with a wink, leaving Sirius and me alone.
I felt him relax a little against me, and I did too. I wanted nothing more than to turn and embrace him – to wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his smoky-sweet scent. But we were on a mission. We were playing a part. And even though no one was looking, we could still be seen. He squeezed me discreetly. I met his eyes in knowing, that was way too fucking close.
"Sirius, when's the next full moon?" I asked quietly.
"Tomorrow. Why?"
"Something Rosier said." Sirius nodded with wide eyes. Something was going to happen tomorrow. Something with the werewolves. Something we had to tell Dumbledore and Moody, and everyone. But we couldn't slip out yet.
In the moments of silence between us, I racked my brain. December 25, 1977. What the hell happened? It wasn't the first time I wished for more intimate knowledge of the First Wizarding War. Hadn't anyone thought to write something down for me? If we'd compiled a list of every major attack and battle then we could change this war completely. We could save everyone. What happened on Christmas 1977?
The crowd was buzzing in excitement around us, effectively breaking my concentration. The quartet was moving from their spot at the front of the room, signaling a change. The evening's entertainment was about to arrive.
I felt him before I saw him.
The crackling of powerful magic tingled on my skin, reminding me of the many nights I'd spent in the chamber. I fought to control the trembling his presence brought on, fought to maintain a look of excitement instead of a look of fear. I turned to find him standing at the back of the room.
Tom Riddle looked nothing and everything like how I remembered him. He was tall and threatening as he stalked smoothly through the ballroom, parting the crowds with no effort. Dressed in robes black as the night that billowed around him despite the lack of wind, Lord Voldemort commanded the attention of everyone in attendance. That is where the similarities began and ended, this creature before me was different than the boy as I remembered him. He looked inhuman – red eyes, ghostly pale skin that stretched over his snake-like features, and unsettlingly perfect grace. I felt Sirius' fingers digging into my side. We remained still. We remained calm. We were protected by our blood, by its purity, at least for now.
He found his way to the front of the room and turned his sinister gaze onto the crowd.
"Good evening." I thought about the boy Tom. He was handsome, he was kind, and he listened to me. He wormed his way into my head, planted himself, and took root as I poured my soul out to him. I fed him with my insecurities, watered him with my tears, and when he was strong enough from them he pounced. In appearance, this was not Tom but as he spoke I heard the boy I remembered. My blood ran cold as the silk of his voice transported me back to a cold, dark Chamber. "I thank you all for joining me tonight, I welcome you to the fold." A smattering of applause cut through the silence and died. "For far too long, we have hidden in the shadows. For far too long, we have stayed silent while the pollution of our blood occurs. I am here to say no more. We fight so that we may come out of the shadows. We fight to overthrow the statutes of secrecy and wield the power that has been denied to us for too long. We fight for the supremacy of magic." The room erupted into thunderous applause. Tom allowed it to crescendo around him before he held up his right hand and the room fell into silence once more.
"We have gathered tonight to celebrate greatness, the most powerful and pure are here together. A momentous occasion." He paused again, but no one moved or made a noise. "Many of you have already made your position known, you have stood with me as we've made advances toward magical supremacy. You have fought against the corrupt ministry of magic. You have brought honor to the great houses whose names you bear.
"But others, have not." His eyes moved through the crowd, landing on the people who he intended to shame. When his eyes darted to us, I felt Sirius' grip on my side loosen and his back straighten – refusing to back down. The red eyes lingered on us for a moment longer and then moved on. The grip on my waist tightened again. "You have shirked your responsibility to your name. You have ignored the problem plaguing us all. You have stood against us.
"I have brought a demonstration, an example of what happens to those who fight against us." A commotion broke out at the back of the room. The doors opened abruptly to reveal two men dressed in black robes carrying the beaten and bloodied body of a young woman. I didn't recognize her, but I'm not sure I could have given the state of her swollen face. Her guards, however, I recognized instantly. Regulus Black and Severus Snape dragged her between them. Severus bore a look of pride, a wicked glint in his eye that convinced me he'd played a role in the woman's torture. Regulus was a different story. He reminded me so much of Sirius it hurt. They both wore the same mask to disguise their emotion. Backs were straight as a rod, and heads were held high, but their eyes are where they lost it. Regulus's eyes were pure terror. Sirius stiffened beside me.
They brought her to the front of the room, laying her at Voldemort's feet before backing away into the crowd. She turned to look up at the man above her as he spoke. "Tonight was meant to be a celebration. We were here to toast the newest recruits to our army. Tonight was meant to be for them. But it would seem that some did not wish for us to celebrate. Some of you may recognize Arabella Selwyn as she was to join us tonight. She was meant to pledge her wand to our cause – but it would seem I was misinformed. Arabella does not believe in what we fight for. She would have us stay hidden in the shadows." There was a jeer from the front of the room and Voldemort took it as encouragement. "She would have us pollute our blood by copulating with mudbloods, half breeds, and muggles." a shout near where we stood spurred him on. "She would have us lay down our wands and concede this fight to oblivion. Arabella Selwyn does not believe in the supremacy of magic." The room erupted into shouts of anger at the poor girl on the floor, but beside me, Sirius stood silent and unmoving.
My stomach was in knots, we had to stop this. I reached down toward my leg where my wand was hidden in a sheath at my ankle but Sirius clutched me to his side. I tore my gaze away from the show and back to him. His eyes were dead - no storm brewing no ocean churning – just two blank orbs staring back at me. He shook his head slowly. There is nothing we can do. In this viper's den, if we took out our wands, we'd be on the floor with Arabella. We'd be dead too.
It's a strange feeling to be gripped with - to see something horrible happening in front of you and not be able to stop it. To know that if we tried to help her we'd end up dead too. As long as I live, I'll wonder what she must have felt at that moment. Was she scared? Did she regret it? Was she praying for a rescue? Or had she resigned herself to her fate? She didn't look toward the crowd for help. She didn't tremble in terror under the red-eyed gaze of Lord Voldemort. She simply stared up at him.
"Do you renounce your beliefs?" he paused for her to respond and she only stared up at him. "Will you stand with me?" she turned her head away from him to look blankly at the crowd. A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. She was far away from this moment, she was remembering something beautiful and I wished I could be there with her. "Arabella, I do not wish to spill magical blood." The smile disappeared, and she turned back to look at him again. She came back from the respite of her memory to the horror of her reality. Her face contorted, twisting in fear – or pain- and whipped her head around to look at the crowd. For a second I thought she was going to scream. Instead, she laughed. A high-pitched, squealing sound that held no joy only contempt. It shocked the room, a few at the front even stepped back in surprise as she cackled at the feet of their Dark Lord. "Answer me!" his shout quieted her laughter and she turned to look up at him again.
"I would rather die."
"As you wish," he raised his wand high in the air. "Avada Kedavra." I shut my eyes to avoid the flash of green light. Kept them shuttered over the commotion of a body being cleared away, and didn't open them again until Sirius tapped my side twice. All clear. The tension in the room was palpable, the scent of death overwhelming. Tom looked fiercely at the crowd. "This is a warning to all who should defy me. I will stop at nothing in my quest for our supremacy. For the supremacy of magic: stand with me – or die."
The music started back up shortly after the display, and if the murder of Arabella Selwyn had shocked anyone they were wise not to show it. Tom stood at the front of the room, holding court with a small group of men all of whom looked drunk on the power of their proximity to him. Sirius and I kept our distance as we spoke with the other guests, careful not to show our discomfort with everything that had just happened. We learned small pieces of information. We learned that Abraxas Malfoy had been promoted to general, that the age of recruitment had been lowered to 16, and that the giants had decided to enter the fight. With each exchange of gossip, each overheard conversation, I began to grow restless. Sirius' hand on the small of my back was a reminder not to fidget – a reminder to keep my cool – and so we soldiered on.
The clock started to tick closer to midnight and I felt the unmistakable feeling of eyes boring into my back. I turned to find the source and was met with piercing steel grey eyes from across the room, Lucius lifted his champagne flute in greeting and raised his eyebrow in challenge. It was time.
"Sirius." He turned to face me. "Go ask your cousin to dance." His eyes followed my line of vision. His hand hardened against my back and I felt his fingers fist the silk of the dress for a brief second before relaxing.
"One dance," He murmured into my ear as he placed a chaste kiss on my cheek. He moved toward the waif-like woman who clung to her fiancé's arm and when he arrived the woman's eyes widened in shock. There was a brief exchange of words between the trio and then Lucius handed the woman off to Sirius. The steel grey eyes were back on me and I raised my eyebrow to him.
"Is the little lion lost?" It was a low, gravel-like voice that tore my attention away from my target. As I turned to face him I was met with black eyes and a wicked smirk.
"Exploring my options," I corrected him. "I don't believe we've met, Ginny Cole."
"We have potions together, Oleander Mulciber." It clicked suddenly. He was one of Snape's friends, known for his vicious pranks on muggle-born students. I fought the sneer and replaced it with a soft smile instead.
"Well, now there's a name to the face." We both turned to survey the room. I searched for the steel grey eyes but found they weren't where I'd left him – maybe the plan wasn't going to work. I took refuge from the thought in my flute of champagne.
"Enjoyed the show?" He asked.
"It was enlightening."
"It was poetic." I hummed in agreement, unable to voice what I was truly feeling. "It's a shame you're here with Black."
"Is it?"
"He was disowned a few years ago, he brought shame on the Black family name. You could do much better."
"Are you volunteering, Oleander?" I turned back to find his beady black eyes raking my body and a lewd smile on his lips.
"She's fiery," he appraised. "I like fiery." He brought his hand up to my shoulder to gently stroke the exposed skin there. "Would you-"
"Don't you have somewhere better to be, Mulciber?" For the first time in my life, I felt relief at hearing the voice of Lucius Malfoy behind me. I turned my attention to him.
"It's a party Malfoy, I was just indulging," Mulciber replied silkily. I shrugged the hand off my shoulder.
"Bugger off will you?" Lucius drawled as he held his hand out for me. "I believe you promised me a dance."
"I did." I took a final sip of my champagne flute and handed it to Mulciber who glared icily at the other man next to me. "It was nice to finally meet you, Oleander. I'll see you in potions."
Lucius took my hand and led me over to the dancers at the center of the room who floated around us gracefully. He bowed low, and I curtsied in response. I steeled myself as his hand found itself at the base of my shoulder blade, his thumb brushing the skin sending a feeling of unease through me. With my right hand on his shoulder and my left hand in his, we began to move.
"I guess I should say thank you," I looked up into his steely eyes through my eyelashes.
"I should be thanking you," he replied.
"What for?" He turned me around, putting Sirius and Narcissa in my line of vision who danced gracefully across from us. They were in the throws of a stilted conversation that left Sirius with stormy eyes and Narcissa with a twinge of pink on her otherwise pale skin. Lucius turned me back to face him.
"Family reunion." I raised an eyebrow at him and brought my bottom lip between my teeth. His eyes darkened in response.
"Are you enjoying the party, Lucius?"
"I am now."
"Careful," I murmured, "Your fiancé might get jealous."
"It'll make an interesting journey home."
"It was an interesting display."
"Interesting?" He pulled me in a little tighter, pressing our chests together as we turned.
"Enlightening." The corner of his mouth twitched.
"He scared you."
"You're not scared?" I felt his hot fingers on the skin of my back, sending a chill down my spine as he leaned in to whisper in my ear.
"I'll protect you, Ginevra."
"And what protection can you offer me, Lucius?" I let my fingers journey to his neck and gave the exposed skin there a soft stroke. His eyes darkened at the sensation.
"The protection of a trusted captain in the Dark Lord's army." There it was. Information.
"A captain? How quaint." I rested my hand on his shoulder again and looked away, feigning disinterest.
"You're not impressed?"
"I'm sure it's very esteemed, Lucius." The hand that held mine tightened for a fraction of a second before relaxing again. "But I'm afraid you'll have to work a little harder to impress me." His eyes flashed for a second and I feared that I'd blown it all – but if there was anything I knew it was how to wrap insecure boys around my finger.
"Impress you?"
"Impress me." I closed the space between us, pressing my breasts against his chest and looking up at him through my lashes. His grey eyes were nearly black and the pupils were blown wide with desire.
"And what is it you find impressive, Ginevra. Is it talks with giants?"
"They wrote a children's book about giants," I scoffed. "If I remember correctly, the child defeated the giant in the end. Try again."
"So no giants." He lifted his arm to spin me and I turned under it. As I returned to his waiting arms, he looked down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. "Is it politics?"
"It could be, I'll have to know more." I had cast my line, and he was being pulled in by it.
"Can you keep a secret?"
"To my grave."
"The head of the Department of Mysteries."
"What about them?"
"Under my control." My stomach dropped in shock but I made no move to show my surprise, nor let on that I was impressed by the information. I played it cool.
"Closer." He looked even more excited by the words as I uttered them. He was enjoying the game far too much.
"Do you know of Alastor Moody?" My blood ran cold and I nearly tripped over my feet as we continued to dance. If Lucius noticed he didn't show it but continued to guide me in the dance his grey eyes alight with the competition.
"The Auror?" I recovered.
"Of course."
"Everyone knows Moody."
"May his memory never die," Lucius replied with a wicked smirk.
"Memory? But he's-"
"For now."
"Your plan?"
"I can't reveal all my secrets, Ginevra, but when the deed is done I'm sure they'll sing songs about my great feat." My stomach twisted and I felt the champagne threaten to come up again. They were going to kill Moody. They're going to kill Moody.
"You win." The smirk turned truly wicked as the words washed over him.
"And my prize?"
"Well, I'll have to hear the songs first."
"Consider them my Valentine's gift to you." His fingers had journeyed toward the expanse of skin left open on my back. They ghosted along the flesh, and I watched his breathing grow ragged when they touched the glamoured skin there. Despite wanting to pull away, to shudder at his touch, I leaned into it – letting my breathing grow labored in response.
"Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lucius?"
"Are you saying yes?"
"In front of your fiancé?" His fingers moved back to the comfort of the fabric of my dress and he seemed to remember himself instantly. I smirked up at him in response, letting him believe that I'd enjoyed the show of almost being caught.
The quartet finished the tune, and Lucius's dark eyes looked upset with the loss of my body against his as I broke apart to curtsy. I felt a familiar palm against my back and breathed in the sweet smoky smell of Sirius before I turned to find the churning blue eyes staring at me expectantly. It was a conversation that needed no words, one that said I'm here and it's time. I turned back to find Lucius looking at the two of us with a calculating glance – sizing us up, waiting for a move to be made.
"Thank you for the dance," I smiled up at him with eyes of wanting – wanting to fight him, wanting to hurt him, wanting to kill him – and he returned the gaze darkly, misinterpreting my desires.
"I look forward to the next." He turned his attention to the man next to me, offering a smirk and a hand to him. "I should thank you, Sirius."
"Oh?" He stood tall, his chin high, and he reached for the extended hand before him. It was a battle of the grip as Lucius pulled Sirius in a step. Sirius was shorter than him by an inch, but what he lacked in height he made up for in sheer intimidating presence.
"If it weren't for you I don't think I would have ever met Ginevra, and my world would be a much darker place without her." I felt Sirius tense and start to vibrate with anger as the words left Lucius' lips. "We will see you at the meeting won't we?"
"I look forward to it," Sirius replied with white knuckles that clutched the other man's hand.
"We'll make a rightful heir out of you after all." Lucius let go of Sirius' hand and turned his steely gaze back to mine. "Until we meet again, Ginevra."
"I'll expect my gift," I replied coolly as I held my hand out for him to kiss. He brought it to his lips with dark eyes that flashed to Sirius. "Goodnight, Lucius."
Sirius steered me toward the doors as we took our leave – our mission complete. The quartet had taken up a new tune that pulled nearly everyone onto the floor. In the commotion, we made our exit. We slipped through the waiting doors, with only a pair of steel grey eyes on our backs, to find the elf who'd greeted us waiting. She popped away and back in the space of a minute carrying our cloaks and thanking us for attending. As Sirius clasped his cloak around his neck, I felt his panic rising and the muscle in his jaw tensed again. The clip of leather shoes against stone stopped us.
"What are you doing here?"
We turned to find Regulus Black waiting behind us. In the silence of the hall, I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding against my chest.
"We're on our way out," Sirius busied himself with my cloak, pulling it over my shoulders and moving my hair out of the way. I stared at Regulus with wide eyes.
"I can see that. Why were you here?"
"I wanted to hear it for myself," I interrupted. Regulus flashed his eyes to me for a second and then turned his gaze back to Sirius. A storm of grey stared at his brother's back, and it hit me just how similar they were. Both living to prove themselves - Regulus to prove himself the rightful heir to the Black name, and Sirius to prove he was the opposite of everything he'd been raised to be. Both were desperate to be loved, but Regulus had turned to the wrong people. My heart ached for him as he glared at us – all of his anger and hurt apparent in his eyes.
"So it only took a girl?" Regulus sneered at his brother. Sirius's hands started to shake as he pulled the hood over my head. "Not your family begging you to-"
"Begging? Is that what you call it? Not torture?" Sirius' voice cut through him, his words landing like daggers in his brother's face.
"Sirius," I warned. His eyes flashed down to me and the storm clouds shifted as we made contact. I reached for his hand. "We have to go."
"I think you're disgusting, worse than any mud blood or half breed you consort with," Regulus seethed. Sirius whipped his head back to his brother and I held my breath for fear of what he might do.
"That's funny," Sirius matched his tone. "I don't think of you at all."
The younger Black's anger melted, and I saw the face of a desperate man. Slytherin, Gryffindor. Dark, Light. Death Eater, Order Member. They had many names, but the only one that mattered at this moment was brother. Brothers who loved each other once. Brothers who protected each other once. Brothers who were the only people on this earth who understood exactly what the other had been through. Brothers who were now standing face to face, with an ocean of betrayal and a war separating them. My heart broke for the Black brothers, but I knew which side I was on.
"We have to go," I repeated. I pushed open the door and pulled Sirius behind me. He let me tug him along, but I could tell there was so much more he wanted to say. With the door shut between us, Sirius took the lead and pulled us to the apparition point.
We were safe. We'd completed our mission. We apparated away.
A/N: Thanks to all who have left comments or favorited, or followed!