Warnings for this chapter: Non-explicit mentions of torture.
13. PAINFUL REALISATIONS
Tom quite enjoyed giving Holly a tour of the castle, not only because it was his castle and suitably impressive, but because she seemed to relax a little, actually asking some questions and offering him more than monosyllabic answers to his.
"So have you always been an Animagus?" he asked, allowing Holly to step in front of him to enjoy the panoramic view from one of the turrets.
"Sirius started teaching me last year," she said, leaning forward to peer down into the water of the castle moat before focusing her gaze on the thick, dark forest that bordered the castle on its northern side. "But he thinks I probably inherited the talent from my dad and only needed a little nudge to find it." She shrugged, slipping around him to peer out another window. "It feels natural, like a part of me that's always been there. And it probably helped that the block on my magic is gone now."
"What block on your magic?" Tom demanded, doing his best to keep his voice even.
"Dumbledore's." She shrugged, her fingers dancing over a little snake edged into the window frame. "I think he was afraid that I might blow up the entire neighbourhood in a childish tantrum – and I did blow up my Aunt Marge once, though like a balloon and not like a bomb."
"And when did he finally decide that you could be trusted with your own magic?" Tom asked, only softening his biting tone when he noticed Holly rubbing her scar again.
"I'm not sure he did, but the block was based on my trust in him," she said, slipping past him to start wandering along the wall walk. "And last year he gave me too many reasons to start questioning that, especially when he let me believe, for hours, that Sirius was dead, that he had died because of me. The block failed after that. Why are you so angry about this?"
"Why aren't you?" Tom asked back. "Dumbledore bound your magic without your consent or even your knowledge. He robbed you of such an essential part of yourself – and didn't even protect you properly when he left you all but defenceless!"
She threw her head back in a laugh, her long black hair whipping in the wind and her green eyes sparkling like emeralds. "Really, you're complaining about me being 'defenceless'?"
Her laugh was mesmerising, a sound a of pure, carefree happiness as if she had never known darkness in her life. He wanted to reach out to her, pull her into his arms and drink the laughter from her lips, but he held back, remembering Lucius' advice and not wanting to destroy this moment of joy for her.
Finally she sent him a smile. "I didn't know about the block – hell, I didn't even know there was such a thing as magic before I got my Hogwarts letter – so I never knew that there was something missing. And I'm not happy about it, but…" She shrugged helplessly, drawing back into herself.
"It explains why you're still experiencing such strong bouts of accidental magic," Tom offered, trying to keep the conversation going without insisting on this touchy subject.
"I have a short temper," Holly admitted a little sheepishly and it was his turn to laugh. "And my magic just… reacts."
"You'll learn to control it with time and until then it's still very impressive," Tom answered, carefully reaching for her hand and pointing out the steps up to the owlery before leading her slowly back down.
"Are all the Death Eaters staying here?" she asked when he indicated the wing where most of their private quarters were located. "In the castle, I mean."
"No, not all of them," he replied, pausing to let her admire one of his ancestor's tapestries. "Most of my Death Eaters have their own homes, some like Lucius have families. To those who prefer to stay here I have assigned quarters, though they still might not be here all the time. I call a full meeting about once a month and of course I summon them, if there're matters to address."
She nodded, but seemed preoccupied for the rest of the way down to Severus' quarters and potions lab.
"Holly?" he asked gently, tugging her to a halt.
She took a deep breath, seeming to steel herself for something as she pushed back her left sleeve and offered her slender arm to him. "You can do it now."
Tom's hand closed lightly around her fragile wrist, his thumb brushing against her pulse point and over the creamy skin of the inside of her arm. "And what exactly is it that you want me to do?"
"The Dark Mark. It's how you summon your Death Eaters, isn't it?" Holly replied, holding herself perfectly still. "And the contract says I have to come when you summon me."
She looked pale and small and unhappy, and truth be told, Tom felt rather unhappy about the thought of marring that perfect, smooth skin with the bold, dark outline of his mark as well. And about her assumption that he would want to do so.
"You're not one of my Death Eaters, though. You're my wife," he said, gently lifting her arm and pressing a soft kiss against her wrist before he carefully rolled her sleeve back down again. "I will just send a house-elf to get you if necessary, though I do expect you to come without undue delay. Is that something you can agree to?"
Holly nodded, puffing out a slow breath and sending him a small smile. "Thanks for the tour, Tom."
"Thanks for the company," he replied with his most charming smile, pulling her flush against his body and tilting her chin up for a kiss. She looked gratifyingly dazed when he drew back and he knocked on the door to Severus' quarters with a satisfied smirk.
§*§*§*§*§
His good mood dissipated woefully quickly, though, as his meeting with Lucius and some other members of his inner circle dragged on. With the contract and his wedding to Holly, their organisation had moved quite decisively out of the shadows, but now they would have to turn their new visibility to their advantage. They started by dissecting the media coverage of the wedding and though Tom was amused to find that almost all reporters had taken his suggestion seriously and written entire love letters describing his wife's beauty, he was less thrilled to see that no article passed on the chance to enumerate his many alleged crimes.
"It was to be expected," Lucius pointed out and Brutus Nott nodded sagely. "I think we just have to give them newer and more accurate information on which to focus for any follow up articles. I have prepared a few statements for your perusal, my Lord."
Tom accepted the three rolls of parchment, putting them aside as a discussion broke out about whether it would be worth it to try to correct some of the misconceptions Dumbledore and his cronies had propagated about them in the past or if any such attempt was likely to be a waste of time.
"I think it best to just move forward," Tom finally declared after he had listened to both sides for a while. "The history books are already written and we're not likely to win any credibility contest against Dumbledore – at least not yet. Where are we on our friends that were imprisoned after the Battle at the Department of Mysteries?"
"I was able to facilitate the release of three more of our comrades, which leaves only Augustus Rookwood in the custody of the Ministry," Brutus offered. "Apparently his former colleagues from the Department of Mysteries are very leery of the possibility that he might give away more of their secrets."
Tom scoffed, doubting that there was anything Augustus hadn't shared with them yet. For an ex-Unspeakable, Augustus was one of his chattiest Death Eaters, which had often made Tom wonder how he had even been accepted into the job in the first place. "Suggest to Augustus to swear an Unbreakable Vow to appease the Ministry… and if there should be something of value he hasn't shared with us yet, tell him to pass that on before the vow through our usual channels."
"Yes, my Lord," Brutus replied with an obliging inclination of his head.
So far the meeting had been going reasonably well, which was of course why it could only go downhill from there, especially when they tried to formulate a clear plan for their next steps and touched on the sensitive subject of shaving off some of the more extreme ideas from their agenda. It was an unpopular, but in Tom's opinion, long overdue decision if he wanted to actually accomplish his own objectives. He had no more time to waste on any grandiose ideas of pureblood supremacy or world domination.
§*§*§*§*§
When they broke for lunch, Tom had exhausted all his reserves of patience and self-restraint and even Lucius was watching him a bit warily, knowing what he was capable of if he lost his temper. It was definitely time for a break and Tom was looking forward to spending some time with the enticing distraction that was his little wife.
Severus opened after the first knock, murmuring a soft greeting and inclining his head respectfully before letting him step into his quarters. Tom was about to ask where Holly was when he saw her slender form curled up in an armchair, her hair a messy hallow around her pale face, fast asleep. He arched a questioning eyebrow at the Potions Master, but also swished his wand to create a Noise Insulation Barrier so as not to wake her just yet.
"She started complaining about pain from her scar about an hour ago," Severus explained without further prompting, carefully marking his place in the book he must have been reading and pushing the rolls of parchments on his desk into an even neater configuration. "Her Occlumency shields at the moment are mostly non-existent, so I told her to try to clear her mind at least. She fell asleep about ten minutes ago."
"How are you progressing on that potion to ease the pain from her scar?" Tom demanded and though Severus' face remained studiously blank, his stance studiously relaxed as he made some vague, obliging comment, Tom immediately knew that he had managed to annoy his Potions Master. "Speak freely now, Severus, I don't keep you around for your genteel restraint."
Severus nodded, meeting his eyes without flinching. "My Lord, she survived the Killing Curse when by all rights that is impossible. But I don't think she survived unscathed. The curse rebounded onto you at almost full strength, but it did not kill you either, which leads me to believe that a fraction of the curse not only hit her, but remained with her. I was able to cleanse her scar off some of the residual Dark magic, which should at least narrow the focus of your connection. But that lightning bolt is like an unhealed wound, not fully scabbed over, that rips open whenever the remaining splinter of the curse is fed new energy. There is no easy solution for that."
"That makes it even more important that she masters her Occlumency as soon as possible," Tom replied, acknowledging Severus' theory with a nod.
"Stronger Occlumency shields might help to some degree and it would certainly benefit her to learn to discipline her mind. But it's not where the problem is located," Severus pointed out.
"You're saying it's a wound on her magical core, her soul?" Tom asked, glancing at the sleeping girl. She looked young and innocent, beautiful and pure, as if no darkness could ever touch her. Only that was an illusion. He might have declined to burn his Dark Mark onto her arm today, but he had marked her long before that and more deeply and harmfully than any of his Death Eaters.
She twisted with a whimper, her brows curving into a frown, and he turned away quickly, doing his best to rein in his anger and reinforce his own Occlumency shields. "What would you suggest, Severus?"
"I have contacted some colleagues who specialise in curse damage and the intricacies of the magical core," the Potions Master replied. "And of course, I will keep working on a solution, my Lord."
"But you're saying that I need to scale down my expectations," Tom finished for him.
"I'm honoured by your faith in my abilities, my Lord," Severus demurred with a respectful inclination of his head. "But yes, realistically we're looking at mitigation rather than a remedy."
"And by that you mean that I should control my temper and disperse my anger safely away from her," Tom concluded.
"Yes, my Lord. I believe that will help her more than any potion I could brew," the thin wizard replied and Tom wondered with ill-timed amusement what he found more painful: suggesting, even just hinting at the fact, that his Dark Lord might have an anger management issue, or admitting that his beloved potions were not the solution in this situation. He got his answer only a moment later. "I can give her an ointment to apply to her scar to soothe any irritation or inflammation of the skin and I have a variety of potions in stock to treat any acute pain, of course."
"Of course," Tom agreed with a smirk at the younger man. "Was she in pain last night? She mentioned earlier that you gave her a potion."
Severus shifted once, uncomfortably. "My Lord… From what I understand, today was unfortunately not the first altercation between Bellatrix and Miss… Holly. They had a run in last night where Bellatrix made some rather unhelpful and I believe inaccurate comments about your plans for her. Holly was… distraught. I gave her a Calming Draught when it became apparent that even Black could not assuage her fears."
Tom bit back a curse, his fingers itching for his wand even with no clear target for his anger. Holly shifted again, her thin face scrunching up in pain.
"My Lord, please," Severus murmured with soft insistence.
Tom clenched his hands, jerking his gaze away from his young wife, and quickly strode towards the door, motioning Severus out with him into the corridor. He walked a few steps further, leaving the Potions Master behind at the entrance to his quarters, as he tried to control his rage and look at the situation rationally. But as much as he wanted to focus on the whole picture, his mind kept coming back to Holly and their wedding night.
She hadn't seemed scared, a little quiet perhaps, a little subdued, but he had taken that for shyness. She had seemed calm, surprisingly so, but of course that made sense now. Her composure had been nothing more than a magical smokescreen. And he hadn't even noticed. He had been surprised when she hadn't taken the out he had offered her, but then she had been so sweet and perfect, so lovely when he had slowly unbuttoned the back of her dress and bared her slender body to his hungry gaze; so endearingly timid and abashed when he had taken off his own clothes and pulled her in for a deep kiss; so beautifully yielding and responsive when he had slowly lain claim to her tight, virgin body. She hadn't seemed scared.
What the hell had Bellatrix said to her last night? He had got a brief summary of this morning's quarrel from Rudolphus and he was very aware that Bellatrix had a mean streak as wide as a Quidditch pitch, but he had thought he had made it perfectly clear that Holly would be his wife and therefore off limits. It seemed he would have to impress that on her again, which incidentally would also be a great opportunity to vent some of his anger before it could do further damage to his little wife.
"Severus," he called, turning back around and waiting for the Potions Master to reach his side. "You will keep an eye on her while I deal with Bellatrix. She seems to be comfortable enough so let her sleep. When she wakes up, you can tell her that she is excused from attending lunch, but that I do expect to see her for dinner."
"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied with a nod, taking that as his dismissal and turning to go.
"Oh, and Severus?" Tom halted him again. "When did you start using her first name?"
"She reminded me that 'Miss Potter' might no longer be considered an appropriate form of address. I apologise for any inadvertent offense I may have given this morning, my Lord. It was mere force of habit," the Potions Master replied respectfully and Tom found a smirk stealing back onto his lips. His little wife, as it turned out, not only had the claws of the Gryffindor lion, but also the slyness of a true Slytherin. That would keep things interesting, he was sure.
§*§*§*§*§
Tom was happy to see Holly already in her spot at the dinner table when he entered the dining hall, and happy in general about the fruitful rest of the afternoon. After lunch, it had taken another two hours to conclude their strategy meeting, which had given Antonin enough time to locate Bellatrix in one of the dungeon cells. The witch hadn't been happy, from what Tom had gathered – dirty, damp and bruised, frothing at the mouth and spewing threats and insults against Holly.
She had still been furious when he had gone to speak with her, though that hadn't stopped her from trying to ingratiate herself with him, wheedling for his approval and praise of her actions and offering herself to him in any form he might desire. In the past, he had sometimes enjoyed the physical release he found in her more than willing body, but now Bellatrix' usual seductive spiel had left a foul taste in his mouth, had felt like a further mockery of the memories of the night he had spent with his sweet, innocent young wife. Who had needed a Calming Draught to get through it.
He had let his anger over that – and Severus' instructions to keep it well away from his little wife – fuel his spells and it hadn't taken long for Bellatrix to spill exactly what she had said to Holly the night before, still gleeful and boasting as if she expected him to be pleased. He had been quick to disabuse her of any such notion and when he was finally satisfied that he had made his position abundantly clear, he was quite sure that Bella wouldn't dare come near his wife again – not that she could at the moment.
"Good evening, Holly," Tom greeted, taking his seat at the head of the table and smiling at his wife – or at least at the top of her unruly head of hair since she hadn't looked up. "I talked with Bellatrix and I can assure you that we won't have a repeat of this morning's incident."
Holly snorted, looking up with baleful green eyes and brushed her bangs away from her forehead. "I know. Thanks so much for that." He cursed softly, seeing that her scar was an angry red, as if someone had retraced it with a knife.
She used his momentary shock to get to her feet, her fingers clutching a little too tightly to the back of her chair as she swayed. "May I be excused? I would like to lie down."
She gave him only a second to voice any disagreement before she turned away, slipping past Lucius and Severus, who had just entered the hall, and disappearing outside. He cursed again, impatiently waving the Death Eaters that were still hovering uncertainly into their seats. The rest of dinner passed in tense silence, none of his Death Eaters daring to raise their voices above a whisper, though Tom was so preoccupied with trying to keep his temper firmly in check that he probably wouldn't have noticed.
He ate mechanically, called for a house-elf halfway through to take a plate up to their bedroom so that Holly might at least eat something after she had already missed lunch, and then retreated to his study to make sure his emotions were as balanced and positive as possible before he went up to their rooms.
When he quietly inched open the door to the bedroom, he found it empty, the covered plate of food still on a small side table, looking untouched. He gritted his teeth and admonished himself to keep calm. He was already halfway back through their quarters when he thought to check the bathroom. The door was firmly closed, even locked when he tried the handle, but there was no response when he lightly rapped his knuckles against the wood.
The door swung open under his wordless Alohomora, the light from his wand falling onto her small form, curled up in the bathtub under a mountain of blankets, only her pale face peeking out. She was fast asleep and didn't stir when he approached on quiet soles. There were dark shadows under her eyes, her scar still raw and painful looking, and his anger dissipated completely. He murmured a mild Sleeping Spell so that she wouldn't wake up and then leaned down to pick her up, cradling her carefully against his chest as he carried her to the bedroom before gently tucking her under the covers.
"I'm sorry you had such a rough first day here," he murmured, leaning down to press a light kiss against her forehead. "Let's try again tomorrow."