8. FROM A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE
Tom returned to Malfoy Manor deep in thought, Holly's last words still echoing through his head. He tried to quench his anger, at least until he was well away from her, but he could feel it running hotly through his veins. If he had as little control over his magic as his bride-to-be he would have incinerated everything in his vicinity. And he knew that his frustration wasn't entirely justified, but still… He'd been nothing but polite, considerate and attentive, encouraging her to voice her concerns and doing his very best to assuage her fears. And she'd thanked him with long, wary looks, delicate frowns and startled intakes of breath as if she expected him to attack her at any moment. As if he was a monster.
He reached Lucius' study, glad to find it empty. He wanted to talk to Lucius, but he was self-reflective enough to realise that it would probably be a more productive conversation if he managed to calm down first. Through the window he could see the Quidditch pitch, the group of youngsters just starting to circle the pitch. Holly was among them, a small speck of colour between the big blob of her cousin and the Slytherins all properly attired in robes. Even from this distance he could see her undeniable skill on the broom, the tight twists and turns she took at breakneck speed, the sharp dives and elegant manoeuvres she executed in complete control of what must be a borrowed broom. He had never really seen the appeal of Quidditch and had always found more worthwhile uses for his time, but he still watched for a few minutes longer, hardly paying attention to the other players as his eyes remained rivetted to his fiancée.
She was extraordinary, he admitted to himself – only half grudgingly, in the secure knowledge that she would be his, and his alone, very soon. He smirked to himself, finally turning away from the window and sitting down, reaching for the drink an obliging house-elf had already poured for him.
He had known she was powerful of course, an inexhaustible well of magic, a blindingly bright light of yet untapped potential, all contained in a deceptively fragile body. But he had been pleasantly surprised by her mature demeanour, her mostly polite, yet never meek attitude towards him. And by her beauty. He still remembered the scrawny, scrappy little thing that had spat vitriol at him in that graveyard, a child, sweaty and dirty and very near broken; the ridiculously oversized clothes she'd been wearing in Dumbledore's office and her unflattering, boyish haircut had only confirmed that impression. But today, in her tapered new dress and with her ebony hair falling in tousled waves over her shoulder, he'd seen the beautiful young woman she was starting to become – still too slender and still petite, but with burgeoning curves and an innate gracefulness that held the promise of so much more. He half wished her could have given her another few years to grow into her own and discover the power of her beauty. But he doubted that dragging on with an unwinnable war would have endeared him to anyone, least of all his lovely bride-to-be. Which brought him round circle.
He had made an effort, hadn't he? And the Parkinson girl had clearly appreciated it, too, even if his little bride refused to return the favour. She'd remained skittish and mistrustful throughout their conversation, wincing when he tried to reach out to her, freezing when he moved closer. It was behaviour he appreciated from his enemies, but not from his wife-to-be.
The door opened and Lucius strode into the room, startling minutely but recovering quickly when he found Tom sitting in one of the armchairs. "My Lord," he greeted with a respectful inclination of his head. "Were we to have a meeting? I would have been happy to come sooner."
"I would have sent for you if it was urgent," he replied, offhand.
"May I ask how your conversation with Miss Potter went? Or should I take your mood as my answer?" Lucius asked, gracefully sinking into a second armchair and refilling the Dark Lord's glass.
"It went fine," Tom bit out, sending the blond wizard a glare for his insolence. "We had a very pleasant, perfectly civil conversation. And at the end, Miss Parkinson still had a more positive assessment of my qualities than my lovely fiancée."
Lucius hummed thoughtfully, but didn't offer a reply, which was just icing on the cake of his bad mood.
"What?" he demanded, threateningly twirling his wand between his fingers.
"May I speak freely, my Lord?" Lucius asked, and Tom waved the question away like a buzzing insect.
"You might as well."
"You're surprised that Pansy Parkinson, who never heard anything but praise about you from her parents, is more well disposed towards you than the girl you've tried to kill on numerous occasions?" Lucius asked with careful poignancy.
"We were at war!" the Dark Lord protested. "And I was the one who offered this peace contract. Surely she should at least be a little grateful for that!"
"Grateful that Dumbledore and Fudge manipulated and pressured her into this? Grateful that she is being sacrificed while everyone else gets to reap the benefits of this agreement? Grateful that she will spend the rest of her young life shackled to the man whom she sees as the common denominator to all her hardships?" Lucius asked. "No, my Lord, I don't think she's grateful. I think she's terrified."
"You seem to have formed a very firm opinion of her mental state in these last few days," Tom said, not wanting to admit that the other wizard might have a point.
"I arranged a meeting with her Gringotts representative for her: She used it to make her will," Lucius replied bluntly. "She does not trust that she will survive this arrangement, my Lord, despite my assurances to the contrary I might add. She still expects there to be some ulterior motive, some Slytherin trickery – which perhaps is not overly surprising."
"Then what do you suggest I do?" the Dark Lord demanded.
"That depends on what you want, my Lord," Lucius answered carefully.
"I want her to be mine," Tom declared without hesitation. He wanted to possess her, wholly, completely. He wanted her loyalty, her devotion, her body, her magic, her soul. Her everything.
"Your prisoner?" the other wizard pressed. "Because you could lock her in one of the rooms in Slytherin Castle and pretty much do with her as you please – all without violating any of the terms of the contract."
Tom got up in agitation, glaring at Lucius. "You know that's not what I want. We're going to be married; I want her to be my wife!"
"In that case, my Lord, as her husband, you might consider affording her a little more patience, a little more kindness, and trying to see matters from her perspective."
"She asked me whether I still planned to kill all Muggleborns and Muggles," Tom hissed, feeling the same rage and anger again, but allowing it to course through him this time, without her pale face contorted in pain putting a check on his emotions.
"Dumbledore really did do outstanding work making you the villain of his story," Lucius commented after a minute or so and Tom snorted angrily. "But I think Miss Potter might be ready to write her own destiny and you can still choose what role you wish to play in that."
"I didn't know you were such a poet," the red-eyed man replied sarcastically and Lucius laughed, rising to his feet.
"I knew you'd appreciate it, my Lord," he said with a short bow. "If you might excuse me? I have a meeting at the Ministry."
"Go," Tom said. "Oh, and Lucius? Thank you."
"It was my privilege, my Lord." Lucius inclined his head again before departing from the room, leaving the Dark Lord with much to ponder as he reviewed today's conversation and tried to form a plan for his next interaction with his future wife.
He still hadn't come to a satisfactory answer when there was a loud scream from the Quidditch pitch and he hastened over to the window, his wand at the ready, just in case. But instead of a full-fledged attack or a gruesome accident, he found that the Quidditch game had been interrupted by an impromptu new arrival. He quickly muttered a Spyglass Spell to bring the scene into clearer focus, finding that Sirius Black and his werewolf had returned, the former wrapped like Devil's Snare around his goddaughter. He cancelled the spell, unwilling to examine his thoughts on the matter too carefully, turned away and Disapparated back to his own castle.
He would see Holly in three days and then she would be his wife. He could save his jealousy until then and probably come up with at least some kind of strategy on how to woo the young Gryffindor to the Dark side.
§*§*§*§*§
"Yeah! Well done, Holly!" Sirius' booming voice rang out over the Quidditch pitch as Holly closed her hand around the Snitch, raising it triumphantly into the air, while simultaneously swerving to the left to avoid a head on collision with either Draco or the Bludger Pansy had driven in their general direction.
She looked down, grinning when she saw her godfather and Remus cheering her on enthusiastically. She gave Blaise Zabini, who had been on her team, a high five, made sure that Hermione and Dudley both landed safely and then shot towards her godfather, all but launching herself into his arms mid-flight.
Sirius only laughed, catching her easily and swirling her around before he settled her back on her feet. "James would be bursting with pride right now," he told her, running his fingers through her wild hair and laughing when they got tangled. "And it looked like you were having fun?"
"It was great to play in a team again and Dudley really enjoyed himself." She grinned, switching to a conspiratorial whisper. "But to be honest it's not much of a challenge to catch the Snitch before Draco. He's always too busy preening to pay attention."
"I know the type," Remus said, winking at Holly and ignoring Sirius' affronted huff. "Did you want to play another round? Sirius and I don't mind cheering you on."
"Let me check, but I don't think so," Holly said, turning towards the other players.
Hermione, predictably, was very ready to have her feet back on firm ground and her nose preferably back in a book and though Dudley still had the same enthusiasm as in the beginning, quizzing the three Slytherins about different types of brooms and Quidditch rules and famous games, even he had to admit that he was getting a bit bottom-sore and should probably leave it at the one game.
"Good game, Potter," Draco offered, only a little grudgingly. "But we'll see how Gryffindor fares next year – against the entire Slytherin team and with me as Chaser."
"You're switching positions?" Holly asked, nodding to herself. "I can see that. This way you'll always be in the thick of the action."
"Exactly. I'll leave the boring tasks to someone else," Draco agreed haughtily.
"Boring like winning the game?" Holly laughed, rolling her eyes. "Well, in any case, thank you. I never had so much fun on my birthday before."
Dudley put his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her lightly against his heavy frame. She nudged him slightly with her elbow to curtail any bad thoughts. "So how do you like Quidditch? Did we manage to convince you?"
"It's certainly fun and I'd love to watch a professional game sometime," Dudley admitted. "But I still think boxing is much more useful in real life. It's not like you can use your brooms in a fight."
"Holly used her broom to fight against a dragon," Hermione pointed out, looking up from where she had taken a seat on one of the benches, an open book on her knees.
"Yeah, well, that's Holly, right?" Dudley shrugged as if that settled everything. "Fighting dragons… or Dementors, that's really above my paygrade."
"What would you know about Dementors?" Pansy Parkinson sneered.
"They attacked us last year during the summer," Dudley answered quietly, a shudder running through his big body. "If Holly hadn't saved me… Couldn't see them, of course, but… No, I'm sorry, I'm sure having magic and all is fun, but no way would I want to deal with those things."
"You don't have to," Holly assured him, smiling a little when Dudley wrapped her in a proper hug. "I'll protect you. And thank you for coming today. It really meant a lot to me."
"No problem – though I'm not quite sure how I'll get back? That chimney thing didn't really seem safe…"
"I'll ask Remus or Sirius to take you home," Holly answered, already seeing the werewolf get to his feet. "I can't promise it'll feel any better, but at least it will be over more quickly. And it's absolutely safe."
"Well, if you say so," Dudley said, handing his broom back to Draco. "It was nice meeting all of you. And you better take good care of my cousin – she's something special."
"And don't we all know it," Zabini muttered, rolling his expressive dark eyes.
"Don't worry, Mr. Dursley. Holly has many friends in this world, who will all look out for her," Remus offered. "If you want to hold onto my arm, I'll have you back home in a snap."
Dudley took a deep breath, hugging Holly tightly once more, but then approached the werewolf and did as instructed. A second later, they had Apparated away.
Hermione closed her book, brushing off her jeans. "I'll be heading off, too, and try to talk some sense into Ron."
"Good luck with that." The two girls exchanged exasperated looks, ignoring the muttered insults from the Slytherins about Ron's sense, or rather lack thereof.
"Draco, might I use your Floo again?" Hermione asked.
"I'll walk with you. I'm heading home as well," Goyle offered, the first words he had spoken all afternoon. "Do you want me to carry your book bag?"
It seemed to be one of the very rare occasions when Hermione did not immediately know the answer, and the large Slytherin just reached past her for her bag, easily slinging it over his shoulder.
"What?" Hermione mouthed to Holly, who could only shrug her shoulders with a bemused smile.
"Thanks for today, Mione. And for the book – I promise to at least leaf through it."
The Muggleborn witch rolled her eyes. "At least read my notes – I will not have you complaining about how no-one tells you anything when the information is right in front of your nose…"
"Okay," Holly mumbled, a little chastised, huffing out a surprised breath when the taller girl pulled her into a forceful hug.
"Oh, Holly. You'll be all right, do you hear me?"
"Don't," she murmured, still leaning into the hug. "Please. I don't want to start crying."
"Sent Hedwig if you need me," Hermione declared, releasing her after a few moments. "I'll see you in three days."
"See you," Holly replied with a small wave and a forced smile that turned more real when Sirius appeared at her side, hooking his arm casually around her shoulders.
"Ready for the second part of your birthday, pup?" he asked, giving her just enough time to murmur a general goodbye to the three remaining Slytherins before he steered her away. "Remus and I were planning to take you to dinner to this little Korean restaurant Lily loved, but now I think I have another surprise for you. Or maybe more than one." He gave her a contagious grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief and happiness. "We have a lot to celebrate."
Holly laughed, resting her head on Sirius' shoulder, just happy to see him so excited and carefree and more than willing to push her worries aside for now. "I'm ready for anything!"
"That's what I like to hear," Sirius replied proudly, adjusting her more securely in his arms. "Hold on tight – we have a little ways to go."
She obediently slung her arms around his waist, feeling him tuck her head under his chin before there was the sensation of being pulled and pushed from all sides as she was squeezed and dragged through what felt like a very long and very bumpy drinking straw. Only Sirius' strong arms kept her on her feet when they finally reached their destination.
"Still not a fan of Apparition?" he asked with sympathy, gently rubbing her back. "I would have suggested using the Floo, but we're in a Muggle area and…"
"And I'm not a fan of that, either," Holly finished for him, straightening up and peering past his shoulder.
Sirius had Apparated them to a small backyard that seemed to belong to a bakery or café with white-washed walls and heavenly smells drifting into her nose from the half-open door.
"Welcome to Land's End," Sirius declared, gently jostling her forward and around the building, towards a round café table where Remus was already waiting for them, a book in his hand, but his pale, scarred face tilted up to soak up the warm afternoon sun.
He turned to them when they approached, smiling gently at both of them. "There you are. Come take a seat. I haven't ordered yet, but I saved us this spot because you can look out onto the ocean."
Holly twisted around, staring with a sense of wonder at the endless expanse of blue stretching out before her eyes. The café was built on a grassy hill, a small, meandering pathway leading down to the coast, waves rolling against the cliff sides and small crowns of white dancing on the blue of the water. Sirius let her drink in the sight for a few minutes longer before he gently pulled her into one of the chairs and pressed a menu into her hands.
"The strawberry shortcake here is great, but really, you can't go wrong with any of their baked goods," Remus offered with a smile. "And we already ordered milkshakes for everyone."
"Sounds great," Holly said, grinning happily and pulling in a deep breath to taste the fresh, salty air. "Thanks for taking me here. Can we go down to the water later?"
"Absolutely, we can do anything you want," Sirius assured her immediately. "We actually rented a little cottage for the next few days so that we can have a mini-holiday and enjoy the good weather. Would you be up to that?"
"Are you kidding me? That's sounds amazing!" Holly laughed, throwing her arms around both of them. "Is that what you did earlier?"
"No, we actually had this planned for a while – though Sirius was going to spend most of the trip as Padfoot," Remus replied, all of them falling silent as a young girl around Holly's age brought them their milkshakes and asked for their orders.
"We went to the Ministry to get all the necessary paper work in order," Remus explained when they were alone again and had taken the first sips of their chocolate milkshakes.
"A complete waste of time, mostly, but there was one thing I didn't want to postpone any longer," Sirius said, reaching into his leather jacket and pulling out a wad of paper, hesitantly handing them over to Holly. "I know it will be moot in a couple of days and you're almost grown-up anyway and it was probably a dumb idea…"
"You want to adopt me," Holly interrupted his rambling, staring from Sirius down at the official looking forms. "These are adoption papers."
"Lily had all the paperwork filled out and sent to the Ministry the moment I became your godfather, just in case… but of course the Ministry never acted on it and then Dumbledore intervened…" Sirius shrugged in embarrassment. "I understand if you don't want to, though. That's okay. No-one ever accused me of being parent material or of having great timing and…"
Holly interrupted him again, this time by throwing herself into his arms, laughing even as tears started to stream down her face. "Yes! Please, Siri, please. It's all I ever wanted, to have a family, somewhere to belong. Please."
"Hush, pup," Sirius murmured, pulling her more firmly into his arms. "You always belonged. Ever since James introduced us to you when you were barely a few hours old and so tiny I could cradle you in my hands. We were always your family, but I'd be thrilled to finally make it official. For both of us."
"I'm not allowed to adopt you due to my condition, pup," Remus offered with a slight shrug of shoulders as if to suggest that it wasn't a big deal. "But you, both of you, are my family. My pack."
Holly nodded, moving over to give Remus a hug as well and then wiping her sleeves across her eyes with an embarrassed laugh as Sirius produced a self-inking quill from somewhere and signed the papers with a flourish before making them disappear with a subtle tap of his wand.
"This is one hell of a birthday present," Holly declared, grinning so widely that her cheeks started to hurt.
"Don't forget our holiday," Sirius reminded her, just as the waitress returned with three servings of strawberry shortcake. "And of course the cake."
They laughed, enjoying their shortcakes and milkshakes and making plans for the next few days and ignoring what would happen after that. Holly couldn't have thought of a more perfect way to end the day.
What is that... do I hear wedding bells?