15. NECESSARY CUTS

The rest of the week passed without any other major disasters and thankfully without any further injuries. Holly seemed to like her lessons well enough and while Severus had informed him that she lacked any sort of natural talent for the art of Occlumency, the Lestranges had shown themselves modestly impressed with her progress and willingness to learn. Tom also enjoyed their own lessons, which mostly took the form of long walks through the castle or along the battlements, while they discussed various subjects. His little wife – and he made sure to only call her that in his mind – was certainly opinionated, stubborn and tempestuous, but she was also polite enough to listen to his arguments and honest enough to admit if her knowledge in an area was lacking or if she didn't have all the facts.

They were making progress, he thought, even if Holly was still a little skittish around him and hadn't allowed him to kiss her again. But he had earned himself two more kisses on the cheek, one when he had told her that she could Floo call her friends and her godfathers as often as she liked, and the other when he had agreed that she did not have to be present for the press conference Lucius had set up. He was almost a little embarrassed at how much he had treasured those instances, but after all, they were married and there were certainly worse things than liking one's wife. And desiring her.

He had made sure to spend the entire day before, Sunday, with her, even if she hadn't seemed particularly happy about his attention or about the fact that he had ordered the house-elves to serve them their meals in their chambers. He supposed he could understand that, but he hadn't wanted to risk her taking another Calming Draught before their second night together. He had wanted her, real and unfiltered, and he had been prepared for almost anything, from angry accusations to panicked tears, but other than some nervousness and a rather endearing amount of embarrassment she had been fine. A Gryffindor lioness, true to form.

Truth be told, he had been worried that that first Calming Draught had masked more than a case of nerves; but now he was almost thankful for it because it had helped Holly to realise that she had nothing to fear from him – and perhaps even, that she could enjoy their nights together.

He smirked into his morning coffee, leaning back comfortably in his chair. Holly was such a sweet little thing, inexperienced and shy, but with a fire all of her own just waiting to be kindled. And there was something thrilling about being the man to introduce her to all the pleasures to be had in the bedroom, something satisfactorily possessive about the thought of being the only one who would ever touch her like that. He would have been happy to give her more time, to move more slowly, if that was what she needed, but Holly hadn't shown any interest in taking the out he had offered her again and he certainly wasn't complaining. In fact, he was feeling very good about his decision to propose this peace contract.

"Good morning," her sweet voice pulled him from his thoughts and he made to rise from his chair, looking up with a smile that froze on his lips when he actually saw her.

"What happened to your hair?!"

"I cut it off," she replied easily, slipping into her seat and sending smiles around the table. "You don't have a hairdryer and the showerhead isn't adjustable and I was getting tired of walking around with wet hair all the time."

"You could have said something!" he protested. "That would have been easy to fix!"

She shrugged. "I fixed it myself."

"You look…" Tom broke off, not sure how to continue. Her short-cropped hair made her look younger, more fragile, a tiny bird with ruffled black feathers. "It's not even the same length on both sides!"

Holly rolled her eyes. "What does it matter to you? I don't mind."

"You're my wife!" he exclaimed, not surprised when she fixed him with a green-eyed glare.

"And you think that gives you the right to dictate how I should wear my hair, do you?" she hissed dangerously. "I'm not your fucking property!"

She got up abruptly, pushing back with enough force that her chair would have toppled over if Rudolphus hadn't caught it in time.

"Sit back down, Holly, breakfast is not over," Tom ordered sternly, trying to calm both his voice and his temper.

"I'm not hungry and I'm sure you'll want me to watch my figure," she replied acidly. "I'm going outside."

"You are not to leave this castle!"

"I'm not. I'm going to the gardens," she snapped back, already turning her back on him.

"Those gardens are dangerous, Holly!" Tom protested, getting to his feet as well and trying to close the distance between them.

She drew further back to avoid him and rolled her expressive eyes. "Not to me, they're not."

She stretched, the Animagus transformation washing over her between two blinks of the eye. A moment later, she hissed at him, ducked low in her feline form, and then pushed quickly out of the hall, leaving him to wonder how this morning could have derailed so quickly so completely.

He cursed in Parseltongue, spinning on his heel and striding back to his seat at the head of the table. His Death Eaters wisely kept quiet as he angrily decimated the rest of his breakfast while at the same time trying to keep his anger in check because he did not need a repeat of the week before.

"David, Walden, you will check the gardens, cleanse them of anything that needs cleansing and make sure they're safe for my wife," he finally commanded, glaring at the two Death Eaters until they not only murmured their agreement but rose to their feet to implement his orders immediately.

Tom turned to Lucius, giving him a cue with his fingers as he rose to his feet. "In my study."

The blond rose swiftly, but with unhurried grace, silently falling in step with him as they made their way to Tom's study.

"My Lord?" Lucius questioned softly, after a few minutes of silently watching him pace.

"I asked her to tell me if there was something she needed. She could have come to me at any time, just one word and I…" Tom said, pressing his hands against the smooth, polished wood of his desk to keep them from reaching for his wand. "Is it so absurd that I don't want my wife to mutilate her appearance for something that I would have been happy to fix?"

"Narcissa has a standing appointment with her hairdresser once a month," Lucius offered. "She always asks me how I like the results."

"Exactly, how is that too much to ask?" Tom said triumphantly, but Lucius shook his head.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but when Narcissa poses that question, it's not an invitation for my honest opinion. It's a prompt for me to offer her my compliments – without suggesting of course that the level of her beauty is in any way subject to change."

"So you're saying I should compliment her for that atrocity of a haircut?" Tom demanded angrily.

"Perhaps I wouldn't go that far, my Lord," Lucius demurred with a hint of amusement. "However, when I first met Holly for the contract negotiations her hair was cut short as well; when I picked her up at her relatives it was shoulder-length and two weeks later it reached the middle of her back, which makes me confident that this new haircut will be a rather short-lived situation. Perhaps it might thus be wise not to let it be the cause of a protracted argument, my Lord?"

Tom sighed, thinking that while Lucius might have a point, it still felt like Holly had cut her hair in large part to annoy him, fully knowing how he would react. But he knew what Lucius would say to that as well, that Holly was still young, that she was still adjusting and that she could have done much worse than cut her hair to try to reassert her power. That he needed to be patient, control his temper and try to afford his wife still a little more kindness.

He sighed again and gave Lucius a slight nod, but before he could do anything more, the door to his study burst open and his little wife burst in like the whirlwind she was, her eyes wide and panicked and her cheeks flushed with exertion.

"Please, you have to stop them!" she cried, her movements devoid of her usual grace as she hastened towards them. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll grow my hair again and I'll apologise in front of your Death Eaters and I'll let you kiss me and… Just please, they're destroying everything!"

"Holly… take a deep breath. Now, who is destroying what?" Tom asked, resting his hand on her waist to stabilise her.

"Travers and McNair, they're in the gardens and they're cutting down trees and blowing up rocks and... They said they were cleaning, but they're not, they're destroying it! And they won't listen to me and…" Tears were running down her face. "Please, I'm begging you. Please."

"Okay, hush, little kitten, take another deep breath, and let's see what's going on," Tom said, pulling her against his chest. "I'm going to Apparate us so not to waste any time. All right?"

She nodded hastily, her slender arms wrapping tightly around his middle. He Disapparated before he could get lost in how nice it felt to have her in his arms. Admittedly, it had been some time since he had visited the gardens of Slytherin Castle, but he was still a bit surprised at the sheer wilderness that greeted him – and at the stalagmites that were aggressively exploding out of the ground around his two Death Eaters in defiance of all laws of nature and their frantic counter curses.

He assessed the situation with a quick glance, but then decided that they weren't in any immediate danger and focused back on his wife, who looked frail and shivery. He gently walked her over to the remnants of a dwarf wall and sat her down.

"Remember to focus on your core," he murmured softly, lightly rubbing her back. "Breathe, Holly, and you'll feel better."

"Please…" she whispered, her eyes impossibly wide in her pale face, beneath her long, sooty lashes. "Please, stop them."

"I think you already did that," Tom murmured, slightly amused, nodding towards the rocky prison David and Walden found themselves in.

"What?" Holly peered past him and then got up abruptly. "Oh, damn, I'm sorry! I don't know how this happened. I didn't…" She bit her lip in chagrin and Tom had to resist the urge of stopping her with a kiss.

"Your accidental magic, I would assume," he said easily, resting his hand lightly in the small of her back. "Do you think you could call it back so that we may clarify this matter?"

Holly nodded, though she still looked a little spooked as if, for once, she truly hadn't meant to unleash her magic. She pulled in a deep, shuddery breath, a small furrow of concentration appearing between her elegantly curved eyebrows. The stalagmites stopped exploding out of the ground, for a moment glimmering innocently in the warm summer sun before they crumpled like sandcastles in the wind.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to do that," Holly whispered, shying away from McNair's angry glare and instead focusing on Travers, who just looked pale and pinched. They must have been hard-pressed to hold their ground against Holly's magic because both of them looked sweaty and while in Tom's opinion Walden was much better suited to his axe than his wand, he also knew that David was an excellent duellist and not so easily winded. He was duly impressed, though he tried to tone down his smirk when Holly turned to him with a pleading look.

"Why don't you tell us what upset you so?" Tom asked.

"You were destroying it," she murmured, glancing at the two Death Eaters with a half-apologetic, half-angry look.

"We were following the orders of our Lord!" Walden gave back, his thin, black moustache only reinforcing his unfriendly sneer.

"I did tell you to make the gardens safer," Tom admitted, swirling his wand between his fingers. "But I believe I also told you to be respectful towards my wife, did I not? I would be very disappointed if you thought dismissing her when she voices her concerns in regards to your methods is all the respect she is due…"

Walden stuttered and fumbled for a justification, but David merely slid into a deep bow and murmured an apology. Tom cut McNair off with a sharp gesture of his hand.

"If Holly tells you that she does not agree with something you are doing, you will stop, and if you're concerned that I might not support her decision you will come to me so that I can clarify the issue," Tom said in a dangerously polite voice. "Is that clear now, Walden?"

"Yes, my Lord," McNair pressed out between gritted teeth, knowing better than to argue with the Dark Lord.

Tom waited for the other Death Eater to also murmur his agreement before he turned back to Holly, lightly squeezing her shoulder to make her look up. "I still want them to make these gardens a little more hospitable and safer, especially if you're planning to spend your free time here," he said, sighing when he felt her tense under his hand. "Why don't you tell me which parts of this garden you're particularly attached to so that we may take that under advisement?"

She gave him a slightly suspicious look and he tried to tell himself that he neither deserved that nor minded. Finally, she answered, "There's a family of bunnies that lives over there. The entrance to their burrow is beneath an old tree trunk. And down that way, there's an old herb garden. It's pretty overgrown, but I found some rare potions ingredients for Professor Snape there so I think he wouldn't be happy if it was destroyed. And beyond that rock that Mr. McNair tried to blow up is a nest of snakes; the young ones just hatched a few days ago."

She looked at him beseechingly, holding absolutely still as he lightly caressed his fingers over the now exposed nape of her neck, softly stroking over the creamy white skin and playing with the downy tufts of her remaining hair.

"Why don't you show me your snakes, Holly? I'd like to meet them."

"They're not 'my' snakes," she corrected him, but motioned him forward, down a beaten trail into the thicket, between old, wild trees with grasping branches and low-hanging vines, over moss-covered rocks and fallen tree trunks, beneath large spider webs and an obscured sky. It didn't look like it had ever been a path and certainly not one intended for a fully grown man, but he resisted the urge of clearing the way with a few well-aimed spells, not wanting to squander the tentative amount of trust she was showing him.

Holly, for her part, seemed right at home, moving with confidence and her usual grace ahead and pointing out some of her other highlights as they entered deeper into the garden. There was a huge tree, overgrown with mushrooms that glowed prettily in the dark, a small pond with a cascading waterfall and very friendly ducks, a rocky incline that she could scale easily in her panther form to reach the second floor without having to detour through the castle, a cave with a colony of bats and luminescent crystals, beautiful flowers and fragrant herbs. He wondered how much time she had truly spent here.

When they reached the nest, Holly gently pushed aside the low hanging branch that kept it hidden, hissing a greeting. The adult female snake was at least half a meter in length with distinctive zigzagging markings along her back. In the foliage next to her, Tom could see at least six hatchlings, winding in and out of leaves and fallen branches. One of them had caught a spider and was trying to defend his loot against his siblings.

§Hello, Scira,§ Holly greeted politely, kneeling down in a patch of moss. §I'm sorry for all the commotion earlier. Are you and your family okay?§

§Was loud,§ the mother snake complained, her head swaying hypnotically from left to right, §Scared the food away."

Holly made a sound of sympathy, smiling a little when one of the hatchlings slid over her fingers before disappearing back under a shrub. §This is Tom. He can also speak your language.§

§Greetings, Scira,§ Tom hissed, crouching down next to Holly. §It's a pleasure to meet you. It's been a long time since I met such an impressive adder as yourself.§

Scira gave a hiss that sounded ever so slightly flattered and he asked her a few more things about her nest and family, while surreptitiously watching Holly, who was busy entertaining two of the young snakes, letting them slide under and over her legs and arms, laughing when they tickled her skin and hissing an encouragement when one of them darted for a grasshopper but missed.

§Scira, thank you for this talk. I will make sure that there won't be any further disturbances to your nest,§ he finally declared, getting to his feet.

§Goodbye and good hunting,§ Holly said her goodbyes, accepting his hand up and even smiling a little when he wove a quick protective shield around the area. "Thank you."

"Shall we go back and discuss the next steps with David and Walden?" he asked, keeping a hold of her hand for a few moments longer, but then had to let go when she led him back through the wilderness of her gardens.

The two Death Eaters were still waiting, as Tom had expected, and he motioned them over to join him and Holly. He conjured up a simple table and snapped for a house-elf to bring him the building plans for the gardens, rolling them out on the flat surface so that they would have a better overview of what needed to be accomplished. He felt Holly tense next to him and lightly squeezed her waist to reassure her.

"I had the impression that there were many areas in this garden that you would like to exempt from any changes?" he asked her softly and she nodded.

"I know it's a little wild and unkept," she admitted. "But it's also quite beautiful if you know where to look. And most of it doesn't feel dangerous to me."

"Most of it?" Tom demanded, maybe a little more sharply than he should have if her startled wide-eyed look was any indication.

"There's an area, at the foot of one of the towers. Nagini warned me not to go there and all the animals avoid it," she whispered. "It feels… wrong somehow, as if there's something nasty hiding in there."

"We will definitely take a look at that and anything else that might pose a danger," he said, waiting for her small nod before he continued, "There also used to be a circular route through the gardens." He pointed it out on the building plan, enjoying the warmth of Holly's slender body when she moved a little closer to get a better look. "I think it would be good to recover and rebuilt that, just to make the gardens a little more passable."

"There's a swamp here." Holly pointed towards an area the pathway traversed on the map. "It's a bit treacherous to navigate… and there're a lot of gnats so I guess a real path could be nice."

He smiled at her, resisting the urge of leaning down for a kiss. "Excellent, then that's settled. And I'm sure Walden and David will be happy to take any other suggestions and wishes you might have into consideration."

"Yes, my Lord," they murmured obediently in response to his pointed look telling them that there would be hell to pay if they messed up again.

"Good, you can start by clearing away the rubble and broken branches from this area and then Holly will show you what needs to be done – from a safe distance, of course," he directed the last part to his little wife and Holly scoffed and rolled her eyes before seeming to remember that she was supposed to be grateful.

He almost laughed at the warring emotions that flitted over her expressive face, her wide green eyes, the defiant tilt of her chin, the way she worried her lips between her teeth. Instead he reached out to her, leading her a bit further away for a moment of privacy. "Is this a solution with which you can be happy, little kitten?"

"Yes, thank you." She nodded after a quick, worried look to make sure the two Death Eaters were truly only cleaning away the damage from their earlier rampage.

Tom smiled as she bit her lip again in an all too distracting manner and then grasped her tiny waist. He slowly caressed his hands down her sides, to the womanly curves of her hips, and for a moment wished there was no need for restraint. But he could already feel the tension in her slim body and so settled on only pulling her a little closer. "Good, that brings me to my next important question: May I kiss you, Holly?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation, raising her chin a little higher.

He was well aware that she considered her ready agreement the return service for his help in saving her gardens, that her Gryffindor pride wouldn't allow her to renege on her earlier, frantic promise. And he probably should have offered her an out, but he had never claimed to be a saint and she just looked too kissable for him to refuse. He left one hand on her waist, cradled her small, pale face with the other and leaned down to claim those petal-soft lips with his, to drink in the perfect sweetness of her being.

When he drew back, her cheeks were flushed and her pupils blown, making her eyes look even larger. He smirked, gently rubbing his thumb over her high cheekbone.

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"I just realised that without your long locks it's much easier to appreciate your blush," he replied easily, laughing at her irritated scowl.

"I already said I would grow my hair out again," she muttered a little petulantly, winding out of his embrace. "Though I bet you wouldn't be so thrilled about it if you were the one who had to try to brush out all the tangles."

"I'd be more than happy to help you with that," he offered immediately, laughing again as she gave him another unimpressed look and then slipped completely out of his grasp to turn back to her gardens.

He would have liked to continue this playful teasing and banter, but he was rather sure that his wish was one-sided and so let her go, still feeling his good mood returned. He wandered back to his study, a little surprised to find Lucius still waiting for him. The blond wizard wasn't one of the Death Eaters too afraid to do one step without his say-so and usually Lucius kept to a busy schedule of informal meetings and private get-togethers with high-ranking Ministry officials or other members of the Wizarding world's elite. Tom sat down behind his large desk of polished black wood and arched a questioning eyebrow.

"I took the liberty of talking with Narcissa," Lucius offered readily. "She is more than happy to pass by her salon for some proper hair-drying towels and other accessories a young witch might need and she also suggested that Holly might enjoy another shopping trip to pick up whatever small necessities she does not feel comfortable requesting from you."

"Tell Narcissa I appreciate the offer and her help, of course, but I don't think I want to encourage Holly's secrecy at this point," Tom said. "If she needs something I will be more than happy to provide it for her. She only needs to learn to ask."

"I believe Narcissa was thinking primarily of feminine hygiene products, my Lord," Lucius said with a small, polite grimace before he continued, "And I think today's events are a good indication of how much Holly has already learned in that regard."

"How so?" Tom asked in surprise. "Lucius, she cut off every last strand of her hair because she didn't want to ask me to put a simply drying charm on our towels or to make the shower head adjustable."

Lucius inclined his head in agreement, but then smirked. "True, my Lord, but just now, when she felt that her place of refuge in the gardens was threatened she came to you, asking for your help, with every hope that you would grant it. I would consider that progress, would you not?"

Tom leaned back in his chair, feeling his lips stretch in an answering smirk as he looked at the situation through this lens. Yes, they had made progress, hadn't they? And Lucius didn't even know about the kiss.

§*§*§*§*§

Holly waved goodbye to David as they reached his seat at the table and kept walking towards Tom. The rest of the morning had gone rather smoothly and David had been surprisingly helpful after Tom's intervention, actually listening to all her suggestions instead of angrily muttering to himself and stomping away as McNair had been wont to do. She supposed neither of them had been too thrilled with Tom all but putting her in charge, but at least David had been civil about it. He had also offered her the use of his first name without much explanation. Maybe he was hoping to get back into Tom's good graces by making nice with her.

"Hi, Tom," she greeted the Dark Lord hesitantly, as always a little startled that Tom, and with him all his Death Eaters, had risen to their feet at her entrance. She hovered next to him, trying not to tense when he reached out to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her a bit closer. §Do you want me to apologise for this morning?§

§No, Holly. That won't be necessary,§ he hissed back softly and pulled out her chair for her. §Why don't you sit down for lunch? You must be hungry after you missed breakfast.§

Her stomach rumbled in agreement and she pulled back with a slightly sheepish smile, dropping into her chair. "Thank you."

The dining hall was still mostly empty, though that wasn't unusual. Lunch was mostly an informal affair and many of the Death Eaters either took it in their rooms or were too busy with their jobs or meetings or whatever miscellaneous tasks Tom had assigned to them to attend. Besides her and Tom, there were only a few staples, like the Lestrange brothers, who had already taken their seats next to her, Goyle Sr., who never skipped a meal when he was in the castle, and Mulciber, who usually didn't talk with anyone but always sat quietly at the end of the table.

"So, Holly, I trust there were no more problems?" Tom asked while she was eagerly filling her plate.

"No. I mean they wouldn't let me come when they went to check out that potentially dangerous area, but you'd probably approve of that," Holly said with an ever so slight eye roll.

"Indeed," Tom agreed. "David, Walden, what did you find?"

"Unhallowed ground, my Lord," David replied in his cool, measured voice. "We found an old altar, probably disused for several centuries, but some of the energy still lingered and it attracted a few less than friendly presences. We dealt with it as far as possible and I warded off the area for now to avoid any unpleasant surprises."

Tom nodded in approval, turning back towards her. "And how is the project coming along apart from that?"

"Great," Holly answered happily. "They already finished repaving the route through the garden and David even built a bridge. And we just found an old well with the most slimy looking toads I've ever seen!"

"That sounds… interesting," Tom offered carefully and Holly laughed, leaning in to quickly peck his cheek before pulling back just as quickly with a bright blush.

"Scira was very happy about them," she offered, trying to cover up her embarrassment. "I think she's ready to forgive me for this morning."

"I'm glad to hear that things are going so well," Tom said with a smile. "So I trust you will not have to miss any more of your lessons?"

Holly snapped her gaze up, looking over to the two Lestrange brothers. "I totally forgot our lesson. I'm so sorry! Did you wait a long time for me?"

"You were upset," Rabastan said kindly. "We knew that our lesson probably wasn't in the forefront of your mind."

"We used the time for some training of our own," Rudolphus added. "Raba has been slacking in his foot work."

"You wish." The younger brother rolled his eyes good-naturedly and Holly giggled, returning both their grins.

"I'm still sorry I missed our training. It won't happen again," she directed the last to Tom, who just shrugged and gave her another one of his too charming smiles.

"We can certainly be a bit more flexible with your schedule, if you'd like," he offered. "This is supposed to be your break from school after all."

"I like my lessons," Holly protested softly. "Especially the ones with Rudolphus and Rabastan. And Professor Snape sometimes lets me watch when he's brewing his potions – that's always brilliant." She beamed up at the scowling Potions Master, who had just slipped into the hall and settled in his usual seat opposite of Rudolphus.

"But you do not enjoy your Occlumency lessons?" Tom asked, though he made it sound like he already knew the answer.

"It's not very comfortable to have someone poking around in your brain," Holly pointed out with a shrug. "No offence, Professor."

"The point, Holly, is for you to prevent me from 'poking around in your brain'," the Potions Master gave back archly.

"I got that, sir, but it's just a lot easier in theory," Holly admitted, thinking that constructing walls and locked doors and even traps all with the power of her mind, in her mind, was maybe a bit too fantastical even with the benefit of magic. "I'm trying."

Professor Snape sighed expansively, sending her an exasperated look with his dark eyes. "That, at least, I can see."

Holly smiled happily at the dour Potions Master and Tom lightly cleared his throat. "I would certainly prefer for you to have at least some mental defences before we go back to Hogwarts and into Dumbledore's sphere of influence, but some things can only be learned when you're ready for them and I don't know of any witch or wizard who mastered Occlumency at your age. So try to be patient with yourself."

He smiled at her and she nodded obediently, not quite sure what to make of his statement, the not so veiled jab at Dumbledore, the kind words he had found for her. Thankfully, the double door to the dining hall swung open once more in that moment, saving her from having to think about it further.

She was a little surprised to see Lucius enter accompanied by his wife and startled when Tom and all his Death Eaters rose to their feet again. Narcissa smiled beatifically, dipping into a perfect curtsy when they reached the head of the table.

"My Lord, I hope we're not too late to join you for lunch?"

"Not at all. Please," Tom said, indicating the chair Lucius had already pulled out for her.

Once Narcissa had gracefully settled into her chair, Tom also sat back down, his Death Eaters following suit and returning to their meals. Narcissa smiled a greeting at Holly and then addressed the Dark Lord once more. After some polite small talk, Narcissa pulled a shrunken package from her robes and handed it to Tom, who lightly tapped it with his wand before handing it over to Holly.

"Narcissa was kind enough to pick this up for you," he explained. "If you decide to grow your hair back out our bathroom should be suitably equipped for your needs."

"If?" Holly asked in a whisper.

"If," Tom agreed firmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement at her surprise; he leaned over to pluck at one of the short strands of her hair, lightly twisting it around his fingers. "If you want to keep it like this, I'm sure I'll learn to like it. Though I think it already is a little longer than it was as breakfast."

"It always grows like crazy when I'm around magic," Holly muttered a little defensively. "Three weeks at Hogwarts and it's usually down to the middle of my back again."

"Are you used to cutting your hair short during the summer?" Tom asked in surprise.

"My aunt usually cuts it short at the beginning of the summer," Holly gave back. "She didn't want my long hair to start clogging the drains." Though, even if that had happened, she was very sure that Aunt Petunia would have made it Holly's job to clear the blockage. Her relatives had also put forth a number of other arguments, from how unruly and dishevelled her hair always looked, to how long she would take in the bathroom, to the money for shampoo they certainly weren't willing to spend on her.

Holly had stopped listening to these reasons a long time ago, suspecting that none of them were quite the truth. Cutting her hair was simply Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's way of reminding her of her place and value in their family, both of which were very, very low indeed.

She shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts and instead turned to open the package, a cream-coloured large box with fine silver flourishes embossed in the cover. She lifted it up and then unfolded the soft blue tissue paper to find a selection of hair brushes and combs on a bed of fluffy white towels.

"The towels have Drying Charms woven into the fabric and I added a few different types of brushes so that you may test which ones work best for you," Narcissa explained, pointing out which of the brushes promised to help her detangle and smooth her hair and which would add volume or an extra bounce to her curls. There was also a comb to seal split ends and another one to tame fly-away strands, and many bottles of shampoo, conditioner, hair masks and hair spray. Holly felt a little overwhelmed by it all.

"I don't know anyone who owns this many brushes," she commented, carefully closing the box again. "Thank you for this."

Narcissa gave a tinkling laugh. "Oh, I believe you do. Sirius will surely have done some shopping of his own, now that he is a free man again. And hair products will have been on the very top of his list."

Holly laughed and nodded, remembering that Sirius had mentioned a shopping trip in one of their last Floo calls, though he hadn't gone into detail about what exactly he had purchased. "I think he had at least three brushes even before."

"He was always incredibly proud of his hair," Narcissa said lightly. "For a reason, admittedly."

Professor Snape snorted derisively and Narcissa threw him a chiding look before turning back to Holly. "Caring about one's appearance is a sign of respect not only for yourself but for the people around you and I know many of the witches at my salon were envious of your natural curls, the rich, glossy black of your hair. I'm yet undecided what they would make of this daring new haircut, but chances are you'll set a new fashion trend."

Holly rolled her eyes with a huff. "Great."

Tom chuckled, taking the package from her, re-shrinking it and letting it disappear into his robes. "I believe you're the only one here who doesn't enjoy having that kind of influence, Holly."

"And maybe you should be glad for that," Holly shot back. "I don't think our quarters would be big enough for two megalomaniacs."

Next to her, Rudolphus stiffened, Lucius almost choked on a leaf of salad and coughed into his serviette, Professor Snape became very, very interested in his potions book and at the other end of the table several Death Eaters quietly escaped from their seats. But Tom just grinned at her and laughed loudly.

"And that, my dear Holly, is yet another reason why I didn't follow your suggestion to propose marriage to Dumbledore," he replied when he had calmed down, winking at her and only grinning wider when she snorted. "And speaking of our rooms, Narcissa suggested another trip to Diagon Alley so that you may pick up whatever you still need to feel at home here."

"We were a little pressed for time during our last shopping trip and there were so many things to accomplish… I'm sure there're some items that didn't make it onto our list," Narcissa replied, smiling kindly. "And of course your friend Hermione is welcome to join us again."

"Really?" Holly asked, turning to Tom.

"Of course, Holly. I would offer to take you myself, but we probably wouldn't get anything done that way," he said with a wry twist of lips. "Is there anything you'd still like to purchase?"

"I think some sports clothes would be good," Holly offered and Rudolphus and Rabastan nodded in agreement. She'd been wearing some of Dudley's cast-offs for their lessons because they were wide enough to allow her to move freely and were mostly worn so thin that they had become soft and subtle. But she always had to roll up her trousers so she wouldn't trip over the hems and cinch them around her waist with a belt to keep them from slipping.

"Sports garments?" Narcissa questioned sceptically. "Well, perhaps we could pass by the Quidditch shop though I assumed that your Quidditch uniforms were provided by the school?"

"No, not for Quidditch, for Martial Arts," Holly answered. "Rudolphus and Rabastan have been teaching me."

"Ah, yes, Bella mentioned that you had an unusual hobby," Narcissa commented to Rudolphus, a tone in her voice that suggested that she didn't think martial arts were a proper pastime for a wizard, before turning back to Holly. "I'm sure we can find something suitable for you. A few extra t-shirts and perhaps two or three tracksuit bottoms."

"And something for underneath," Holly added softly, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. Most of the bras she owed had once belonged to Aunt Petunia and were either scratchy, had wires poking out in uncomfortable places or straps that were so worn-out that she had to sling them into knots. She also had two bras from Hermione, one regular and one sports bra, but she was built much more slightly than the other girl and neither of them fit her well.

Narcissa's pale face softened in sympathy and she reached across the table to gently pat Holly's hand. "Of course, Holly. I'm sure we'll find something nice for you. Why don't you make a list of what else you might like to buy and contact your friend for a suitable date and then let me know?"

"Thank you, Narcissa." Holly nodded with a smile. "That sounds perfect."

"It is my pleasure," Narcissa replied and for the rest of the meal offered suggestions about what else Holly might need and told her about several of her favourite shops in Diagon Alley and Central London as well as in Paris, Madrid and Milan.

After lunch, Holly still had almost an hour before her next Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape and though she would have liked to go back to the gardens with David and McNair, Tom vetoed that, pointing out that she was very likely to lose track of time again and that the two Death Eaters were more than capable of following her instructions without her direct supervision. Holly had been openly sceptical about that, but subsided after Rudolphus and Rabastan offered to help out with the garden work as well and Tom put David in charge.

As an alternative to her idea, Tom pointed out that she had missed the arrival of the owl post that morning and that she had received several letters from her friends, which he had deposited in their rooms for her.

"Might I walk with you?" he asked politely, offering her his arm and gently caressing over her hand when she placed it in the crook of his arm.

"Don't you have a meeting or something?" she asked.

Tom grinned down at her. "I do. But being a Dark Lord means that no-one will dare tell me that I'm late."

"You seem proud of that."

"I'm a Slytherin, Holly, I take my advantages where I can get them," he corrected. "And there's nothing wrong with commanding respect."

"Is it respect? Or is it fear?" Holly challenged.

"Probably both," Tom admitted freely, much to her surprise. "But I'm trying to change that or at least tilt the balance more heavily towards respect."

"Respect needs to be mutual, though," Holly pointed out. "You can't just demand it or use threats and torture to get your way."

"Is that what you think I do, Holly?" he asked and she felt a twinge of pain in her scar though his expression remained even and his hold on her arm loose and gentle.

She glanced up at him, startling when he pulled them to a stop and turned towards her, calmly returning her gaze as she really thought about his question. It was what Dumbledore had wanted her to believe, that someone as evil and morally bankrupt as Lord Voldemort could only rule through fear, but when she looked at his Death Eaters she wasn't sure if it was actually true. They were certainly respectful towards their Lord, more so than what she personally thought was warranted, and most of them seemed wary of his temper and resigned to the fact that any disobedience would lead to a painful punishment. And some of them, like Wormtail and Karkaroff, hadn't even been able to say his name without quivering and shaking in terror. But when Lucius or the Lestranges or even Professor Snape talked about Tom, they weren't governed by fear. There was respect, admiration even, as if they truly believed in him and had faith in his leadership.

"I think you have a tendency of demanding instead of asking," she finally said. "And I think that means that in many cases you lose out on earning someone's respect because you're too busy demanding their blind obedience. Or else."

"Or else," Tom murmured pensively, reaching out to trace his thumb over her cheekbone. "I have been asking you, though, haven't I?"

"After the fact," she pointed out with an unimpressed scowl. "After you already manoeuvred me into a no-win situation and took away my choices. You don't win a prize for that."

"On the contrary, my dear Holly." He smirked, reaching for her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "I won the most precious prize of all."

Holly pulled back with an angry scoff and started walking again, hoping to leave the smirking Dark Lord behind. He didn't do her that favour of course, quickly catching up with her and easily keeping pace with her with his long legs. At least he seemed content to revel in his own cleverness and didn't try to start another conversation until they had reached their rooms.

There, he took a stack of letters from the coffee table and handed them to her, dragging his fingertips along her arm as he pulled back.

"Thank you," Holly muttered, shuffling through her letters to find that she not only had another letter from Hermione and Sirius and Remus, but also one from Neville.

"I shall leave you to your correspondence then, but may I have a kiss before I go?" he asked, reclaiming her attention.

Holly felt herself go tense, studying him warily. "You said I didn't have to grow out my hair if I didn't want to. And that I didn't have to apologise."

"I did," he agreed readily. "My initial reaction to your new haircut might have been slightly disproportionate and my orders concerning the garden were certainly never meant as a punishment. I just hadn't realised how much of your time you spend there and I wanted to make sure that you were safe."

"So can I still say no?" Holly asked hesitantly.

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't prepared to accept your answer, Holly," he gave back, already with a hint of regret in his voice.

"I…" Holly swallowed, casting a furtive look around their chambers, towards the half-open door to their bedroom. She had said yes earlier, in the gardens, partly because she hadn't felt like she had a choice, but partly also because it had seemed relatively safe, out in the open, with two of Tom's Death Eaters within easy eyesight. It had been a kiss, just a kiss, and that had been okay, but now they were alone, in private, and she felt a shiver of unease race down her spine at what tacit invitation Tom might read into her words.

"Holly," Tom called her back from the edge of a panic attack, tilting her chin up with the tip of a finger. "You can say no."

Holly nodded jerkily, pulling in a shuddery breath. "Could you repeat the question?"

Tom arched his eyebrows in surprise, but obliged her readily. "May I have a kiss, Holly?"

"Just a kiss," Holly replied, raising her chin in a silent challenge; Tom started grinning, moving a little closer and lightly grasping her by the waist before sealing his lips to hers. A different kind of shiver raced down her spine, but she wasn't about to admit that to herself just yet.