Warnings for this chapter: Panic attack, threats of (sexual) violence and rape.

10. A LAST RESPITE

The receiving line was moving much too slowly for Tom's taste and his patience was waning quickly. His Death Eaters caused little delay, mostly opting for a quick bow, a short "Congratulations, my Lord", followed by an offhand "Best wishes" to Holly. Lucius, as his best man, added a handshake and lightly kissed the back of Holly's hand, taking the chance to remind him about their conversation while Narcissa and Holly were busy retucking a wayward strand of her dark hair.

The Ministry officials were the most time-consuming, stuttering their way through a few meaningless congratulations and never failing to make a production around Holly, introducing and reintroducing themselves, self-aggrandising their own accomplishments and showering her with insincere or unimaginative compliments.

Her friends mostly bypassed him completely, at most throwing him angry sideway glances before focusing on his young wife, which was fine by him, though he had to intervene a few times when they were not only holding up the line with their lamenting, but also seemed to grate away at Holly's composure. So he was a little surprised when her empath friend offered him his hand and calmly met his eyes before he turned to Holly, putting his arms around her and resting their foreheads together as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Remember what my mother taught us, Holly," he murmured.

"It's not them. It's me," Holly replied in a choked whisper. "Simon…"

"I know," he replied and Tom was less and less amused, but also more and more curious and certainly grateful for the Privacy Bubble he had cast around them when soft blue light started to swirl around the two young people.

It faded eventually, the light seeming to sink into Holly's skin as she drew back with a small sigh, her slender shoulders losing some of their tension. "Thank you, Simon."

"It won't last forever," the lanky young man warned with an apologetic smile. "I wish you all the joy and happiness in the world, Holly. Best wishes to both of you. And don't worry, sir, Holly already warned me not to share my talents too openly around the rest of the party."

He smiled again, lightly touched Holly's shoulder before he stepped away from them.

"It's like an armour of good feelings," Holly murmured in explanation, absently rubbing over her scar. "This here… I know they mean well, at least most of them, but…" She shrugged with an unhappy grimace. "Thank you for intervening when you did."

He studied her carefully, in her pretty dress and with her thick black hair cascading in shimmering waves down to the middle of her back, her brilliant green eyes framed by long sooty lashes and her full lips a gentle, rosy pink. She was beautiful, no doubt, but even with Simon's emotional buffer she looked pale and drawn, tired and fragile. He pulled his wand out, absently waving it at the Privacy Bubble to stop the next guests from entering.

"Is there someone you'd still like to greet?" he asked, glancing briefly at the line of waiting guests before turning back to his wife.

"Ron, maybe, but no, Simon was the last of my guests."

"Then I think we will cut this short here," Tom declared, gently closing his hand around her cold fingers and drawing her against his side as he cancelled the Privacy Bubble and cast a quick Sonorus to address their guests, "Dear guests, please allow me, also on behalf of my lovely wife, to thank you all for your patience and of course for wishing us well on this special day. However, as we're running a bit behind schedule, we shall take a break now and proceed to the feast. I'm sure there will be time for you to offer us your compliments after we've all partaken of some refreshments."

He smirked when he saw Dumbledore in the throng of guests still waiting, feeling very satisfied with his decision as he led Holly off towards their table with a hand placed gently against the small of her back. The courtyard had been outfitted for the feast with a number of round tables, draped in silvery white table cloths and decorated with candles and white roses. A canopy of charmed lights spanned the entire yard, extra strings of light woven around the archways that had also been clad in roses and dark green ivy. Between the head table and the general seating area, the ground had been covered with wood parquet to create a dance floor and water lilies and small floating candles had been dropped into the central fountain.

At the head table, Holly's godfathers, her cousin, her empath friend, the Granger girl and the Malfoys had already taken their seats, and he pulled out Holly's chair for her before taking his seat on her right. As soon as he sat down, food appeared on all the tables, a veritable feast even more grand and festive than the elaborate Welcoming Feasts he remembered from his Hogwarts days.

"Whoa," Holly's cousin commented, which at least brought a brief smile to her lips. "This's amazing! Who cooked all this? Where did it come from?"

He was already eagerly reaching for the nearest dishes, loading his plate with cuts of meat and a wide variety of side dishes while mostly foregoing the greens.

"The house-elves, and probably from the kitchens," Holly replied. "Would you like to meet one of them? He's actually visited me at Privet Drive – do you remember the Masons?"

"The pudding incident?" Dudley asked, reaching for Holly's plate despite her protests and starting to fill it with food as well. "I thought that was you. Mum and Dad were furious."

"No, that was Dobby," Holly said, taking her plate back before Dudley could load any more food onto it. "Dobby?"

There was an audible plop and the little creatures appeared, already bent into such a deep bow that his long nose brushed the ground. "Holly Potter! Dobby is overjoyed to see Holly Potter, miss! What can Dobby be doing for Holly Potter today?"

"Nothing, really." The elf's ears dropped in disappointment. "But this is my cousin Dudley and he was very curious to meet you."

"I've never met a house-elf before," Dudley said, easily offering his hand. "My name's Dudley Dursley. Thank you for all this fantastic food!"

"Holly Potter's cousin is very welcome, sir," Dobby exclaimed, grasping Dudley's large paw enthusiastically. "Dobby is always happy to cook for Holly Potter and her friends. Does Holly Potter like the food as well?"

He turned pleading, tennis-ball eyes onto her, his long ears quivering in excitement. "You know I always love your cooking," she replied gently, demonstratively eating a small bite of chicken. "And it's good to see you. Is that a new outfit?"

"Oh, yes, it is!" the house-elf exclaimed in choked wonder, tugging self-consciously on his yellow-orange jumper. "Holly Potter is too kind to notice! Oh, Mistress Holly Potter, may Dobby make a request?"

"Of course, what is it?" Holly said, sliding from her chair and kneeling down in front of the emotional creature.

"Dobby and Winky want to ask if Holly Potter would be our Mistress? Dobby and Winky do not want to be paid; we just want to serve Mistress Holly Potter!"

"Are you sure that this is what you want? I thought you were happy here at Hogwarts," she asked and the elf nodded vigorously.

"Dobby likes Hogwarts, but Winky is not happy here, Mistress Holly Potter, miss. She wants to be a proper house-elf again and Dobby wants to work for Mistress Holly Potter. Dobby would be honoured to serve Holly Potter!"

"In that case, I'd be honoured to accept your generous offer, Dobby," Holly said, gently shaking his spindly-fingered hand. "Though I do want to pay you for your work, at least as much as you've earned here at Hogwarts. And Winky as well, but I won't insist on it if it makes her uncomfortable. And I'd like it if you called me Holly."

"Oh, no, Dobby couldn't address Mistress Holly Potter so disrespectfully, miss!" the house-elf shook his head with a scandalized grimace.

"But it's very long, Dobby," she pointed out. "And you're a free elf."

"Dobby will think about it… Mistress Holly," Dobby offered hesitantly, beaming when she nodded in agreement. "What can Dobby and Winky do for Mistress Holly?"

"Perhaps you could send them ahead to Slytherin Castle," Tom suggested, when Holly seemed a little lost for an answer, reaching for her hand and pulling her to her feet again. "This way they can start unpacking your things so that you will feel right at home."

"Okay, thanks," Holly murmured, once more turning to her house-elf, who was already nodding eagerly. "Thanks, Dobby."

He disappeared with another soft plop and Holly finally slid back into her seat.

"Was that my old house-elf?" Lucius inquired, taking a sip from his wine.

"Yes," Holly said shortly. "But he's a free elf now and… I'm sorry if I offended you."

"It was merely a point of curiosity," Lucius replied kindly.

"And he seems very loyal to you," Narcissa remarked graciously. "I'm sure he'll be happier in your employ. Have you tried the potato roses yet, Holly? The seasoning is just perfectly balanced."

Holly hummed noncommittally, withdrawing from the conversation around her and mostly just picking at her dinner. Tom watched her from the corner of his eye and made a few attempts to start a conversation, but finally decided that he was not likely to succeed in raising her spirits when the combined efforts of her family did not garner more than tired smiles and monosyllabic answers.

The meal was drawing to a close, the last course replaced by a smorgasbord of desserts and sweets, when the indistinct chatter of conversation was interrupted by the chime of glass, Dumbledore rising from his seat at one of the smaller tables and clearing his throat, sending twinkling smiles left and right.

"Ask her to dance, my Lord," Narcissa whispered urgently, seconds before loud music drowned out the beginnings of Dumbledore's speech, a band appearing on a small raised platform between two archways.

"Perfect timing, Narcissa," Tom answered with an approving smirk, rising to his feet and holding his hand out to Holly. "May have I the honour of the first dance, Holly?"

She got up more slowly, nervously brushing down her skirt. "Tom… I'm a really, really horrible dancer."

"I've seen you on a broom, Holly, and with a wand in your hand. No-one who moves as gracefully as you do could be a bad dancer," Tom murmured with a chuckle, bowing low over her hand and leading her to the dance floor. "Just look at me and your feet will follow."

She sighed softly, but obediently let him position her hands as the music changed from the jaunty tune that had so effectively cut off Dumbledore's speech to a softer, more romantic melody, perfect for a slow waltz.

"So what's your plan for after this song? You know Dumbledore will just wait till he gets his chance," she pointed out to him, a charming look of concentration on her young face as she tried to move in time with the music.

"Look into my eyes, Holly, not at my feet," he encouraged her, pulling her a little more snugly against his body. "And after this song there will be more dancing. The guests will mingle, some might make their excuses. I'm quite confident that we shall be spared Dumbledore's re-narration of our lives."

Holly sighed, seemingly not quite convinced, but looked up at him, promptly missing a step when their eyes locked. Tom still considered it a win because she fit perfectly into his arms, supple and graceful, yielding to his touch and following his lead without that cold look of apathy in her eyes. She was perfect, and yes, she was finally his.

§*§*§*§*§

Severus was not enjoying himself. The food had been good, but excessive, the music was too loud and the stilted attempts at small talk were straining his limited tolerance for moronism. He would have left, gladly, but his two masters had both clearly communicated that they expected him to attend this farce of a celebration to its bitter end, the Dark Lord because he wanted his Death Eaters to present a united, and if at all possible, friendly front to start to overcome the prejudices of the so-called Light, and the headmaster because he always enjoyed his little power plays a little too much.

So he'd done the absolute minimum of socialising, exchanging a few words with Lucius, who was of course in his element, Minerva, who was even more stern-faced than usual, and the Lestrange brothers, who at least were as miserable as he was, and had limited his sneers and scoffs to mental ones, whenever possible. For the last hour or so he had withdrawn into one of the alcoves, observing from his vantage point as the Potter girl was swept over the dance floor, first by the Dark Lord, then by her mutt of a godfather and the werewolf, then again by the Dark Lord and a few of her friends. He'd seen the youngest Weasley approach her, and the Golden Trio disappear into another alcove, presumably to sort out whatever had offended the tender sensibilities of the red-haired boy. When they re-emerged, all ruffled feathers seemed to have been successfully unruffled and they re-joined the festivities, the Weasley boy demonstrating once again that dancing was one of his many shortcomings.

He turned away from the sight, not keen to catch an inadvertent look past the too transparent façade of forced cheerfulness, and pulled a slim volume on Shrinking Solutions from his inner robe pocket, intent not to let this day be a total waste of time. He still noted when some of the lesser Ministry functionaries and Potter's Muggle friends started to leave, wishing he were permitted the same luxury. Instead he turned back to his book, just making note of a rather interesting stirring technique when his godson almost fell over his long legs that he had stretched out into the pathway and only barely caught himself against one of the stone pillars.

"Uncle Severus!" he brought out between panting breaths before he seemed to remember his upbringing and pulled in a longer breath, straightening his shoulders. "Thank Morgana I found you. I need a Calming Draught."

"Draco, for the last time, I'm not your personal apothecary," Severus admonished, calmly marking his page in the book. "And whatever teenage angst is causing you to run through the halls as if pursued by a horde of pixies is surely more within your mother's purview than it is in mine."

"I don't need it for myself. It's for Holly… She's… I think she's having a panic attack," Draco protested, running his hand through his perfectly gelled hair.

"What happened?" Severus demanded, getting to his feet. "Where is she?"

"This way," Draco replied, leading them into the castle. "We were dancing and everything was fine and then Aunt Bella cornered her and… you know how she is!"

"What happened, Draco?" Severus repeated, less and less amused.

"She made some comments about the… the wedding night," the blond answered uneasily, turning down another corridor in the general direction of the Ravenclaw common room. "And about how the Dark Lord is planning to reward his inner circle once he's done with her."

Severus cursed softly under his breath, opening the door to the classroom Draco had led them to. He took in the scene, quickly deciding that the mild Calming Draught he had envisaged for the situation would not even be a drop in the cauldron. Everything in the room was shaking, from desks and chairs, bookcases, lamps and picture frames, and he might have suspected a stampeding herd of Thestrals if not for the trembling girl in the middle of it all.

He had always shunned the great song and dance the rest of the Wizarding world and even some of his fellow teachers made about the Girl-Who-Lived, liking to think that he was doing her a world of good in treating her just like everyone else. Only that he didn't, and she wasn't. She was Lily's daughter and he had failed her before she was even old enough to point her chubby little finger at him. Perhaps it was only natural that he kept failing her, failing to protect her ever since.

But of course, Sirius fucking Black was there to step into the breach. He had wrapped the quaking girl in his arms, her head tucked under his chin and her face buried against his chest, gently rubbing circles against her heaving back and whispering what had to be reassurances in her ear. Not that it seemed to make a difference. Lupin was kneeling at their side, not quite within touching distance, his hands clenched into useless fists against his dress pants.

Severus carefully closed the door, leaving Draco outside, and approached the three Gryffindors. "Black," he called, holding out a small potion's bottle. "Calming Draught."

The Animagus nodded, shifting the Potter girl slightly to free his hand and reach for the bottle. "How much? She's hardly eaten anything today."

"No more than half the bottle," Severus instructed, taking a few steps closer. "More than that and you'll knock her out." Which might almost be a mercy, Severus thought, all things considered.

But Black had already popped the cork. "Pup, I need you to drink this for me. Come on, shh, that's it. You'll feel better in a minute, I promise."

He kept murmuring and stroking her back until the potion kicked in and her breathing finally evened out, the furniture settling firmly back onto the ground as she settled into her godfather's arms. "'m sorry. I wanted to be stronger than this."

"Oh, pup, you've been plenty strong today. But you never have to be with me – I'd much rather have your honesty. Can you tell me what happened?" Black asked, so focused on his goddaughter that he didn't even spare his usual glare for Severus.

"Ran into Bellatrix," Holly mumbled, starting to shiver again as the sickening details of what Draco had managed to sum up so neatly tumbled out of her mouth, between breathless gasps and aborted sobs.

Severus felt rooted to the spot, even knowing that his presence was no longer required, that his potion might have been useful, but his person certainly wasn't. Lupin was growling softly, a low, threatening rumble that he probably wasn't even aware of, and Black had his arms wrapped so tightly around the girl that she almost disappeared into his embrace.

"It's going to hurt, isn't it? Sex," Holly finally whispered, rubbing her hands over her wet cheeks.

"If it hurts, he's doing it wrong," Black snapped back, but then sighed. "Holly… did your aunt ever talk to you about… what to expect?"

Holly snorted, leaning back for a moment to give her godfather an unimpressed look. "Aunt Petunia? I think she would have rather admitted that her prized pudding is store-bought in front of all her neighbours than to ever even allude to what goes on in the bedroom."

"Right," Black muttered. "Well… There's this thing about the birds and the bees, I guess, but I never really… Right, no, let me think."

"Sirius, I don't need you to give me a sex talk," she interrupted him with a blush on her pale cheeks. "But I need you to… just say something. Please. Anything that will make me feel less awful."

"Oh, pup, that's a tall order," the Animagus answered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "But let me try: Bella is a nasty, conniving bitch and I wouldn't trust a word that comes out of her mouth. You're protected by the contract – he can't hurt you and neither can any of his followers – and if he fails in that I swear we will make him pay with every last drop of his magic. And if you still intend to go through with this – and you don't have to! – remember that it's only sex. It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to and it won't change how much I love you. Okay?"

Holly sniffed, hugging her godfather tightly around the neck. "Pretty good for a first draft, Mr. Padfoot."

"I'll keep working on it, Miss Hiss," Black promised, conjuring up a handkerchief and passing it to her. "How are you feeling now?"

"Okay," Holly said with an unconvincing smile, wiping at her tears. "Thanks for the potion, Professor. It really helped."

"Well, that's a relief. I guess my mastery in potions wasn't just an advertising ploy after all," Severus replied before he could stop himself, feeling his lips curl into a sneer.

"Severus…" Lupin murmured warningly, but Holly just quirked another fleeting smile as if he had managed to amuse her.

"You should feel the effects for at least another hour," Severus said, striving for a neutral tone. "You can take another spoonful at that time – do not take more than that."

"I'll remember that. Thanks again, Professor," she said, allowing Black to lift her to her feet and curling her fingers around the half full potions bottle he pressed into her hand. "I should…"

Black wrapped her in his arms again, whispering something in her ear, before the werewolf also joined their hug, pulling the two smaller Gryffindors against his chest and holding them for a few minutes until Holly wound out of their embrace. "Thanks, but… I'm fine. It's going to be fine. I should go before the potion wears off. You'll write to me?"

"Of course, Holly," Lupin agreed at once and Black nodded quickly. "And we will see you in two weeks at the latest. We love you, pup."

"I love you too," Holly replied before taking a deep breath and squaring her thin shoulders. She brushed her hand over her dress to smooth the material and pushed her hair back over her shoulder, her emotions and feelings locked away again behind a thin mask of indifference.

"Good evening, Professor," she murmured as she made to move past him.

"Miss Potter…" Severus said, halting her once more. "You should know that the Dark Lord is not in the habit of sharing – least of all when it comes to what he considers his most prized possessions."

She puffed out a slow breath. "I appreciate the potion, Professor, but I will never be a possession, prized or otherwise."

She strode past him, her chin tilted up defiantly, her almond-shaped eyes sparking green fire and for a moment, in the dimness of the classroom, he saw nothing of Potter in her. It didn't make him feel better.