Warnings for this chapter: Spousal abuse. Torture.
19. PERSONAL NIGHTMARES
A few days later, Holly was sitting at the breakfast table, sipping her white coffee and eating her chocolate croissant, listening with half an ear to Tom and Lucius discussing something about the Daily Prophet and the possibility of adding one or two friendly reporters to the staff to ensure a more balanced press coverage of their activities. Holly wasn't sure if that was compatible with having a free and independent Fourth Estate, but when she had said as much, both wizards had merely chuckled in amusement at her naiveté and continued their scheming.
Holly didn't mind so much, distracted by a weird tension in the room that she had only noticed once or twice before and always when Bellatrix was close by. But the other witch was nowhere to be seen today, something for which Holly could only be grateful because while Bellatrix had not dared attack her directly since that first day, that didn't keep her safe from nasty glares and snide comments that always felt sharp like razorblades.
"Just shut up, Rabastan, and leave me be, for once in your life!" Rudolphus' loud voice interrupted the relative peacefulness and Holly winced in response, her magic reacting by sending a tremor through the tableware.
The older brother pushed back his chair and threw his napkin on his half-finished sandwich. Holly rose with him, pausing briefly to lightly peck Tom's cheek. §Have fun plotting with your Death Eaters. I have some things to do, but I'll see you later.§
She didn't wait for a reply, ignoring Tom's exasperated reminder that she hadn't finished her breakfast, and quickly caught up to Rudolphus, who had almost reached the door by then. "I need your help with something. Will you come with me please?"
She half-expected Rudolphus to explode again, but after a tense moment or two, he sighed, his broad shoulders slumping in resignation, and gave her a tired nod. "Of course, Holly."
She smiled softly at him, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to keep Rabastan from following them, before she took Rudolphus' by the wrist and led him through the halls and to the quarters she shared with Tom.
"Sit down for a moment. I'll be right back," she instructed, indicating the sofa and then disappearing into the bathroom where she proceeded to empty their medicine cabinet into a small basket.
When she came back out, Rudolphus had sat down awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, his large hands curled into tight fists. She set the basket down on the coffee table and then sat down next to it.
"I don't know what you need, but we have bandages and Healing Potions and Madam Pomfrey showed me how to treat smaller wounds," she offered softly. "Or I can call Professor Snape if you would prefer that?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rudolphus retorted, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. "And clearly, neither do you."
"Maybe not," Holly admitted without rising to his aggressive tone. "But I don't think I'm the only one stuck in an unhappy marriage and Bellatrix strikes me as a very vicious woman. So please, Rudolphus, let me help. I hate to see you hurt."
She offered him the basket again, smiling approvingly when he picked a bottle of Pain Relief and downed it quickly. "I'm not hurt," he still said, incongruously, and Holly rolled her eyes.
"Please, you barely touched your breakfast; you hold yourself as if any movement causes you pain and you snapped at your brother," Holly replied. "And I know you're far too proud to admit to needing help, but I'm offering and you can just accept, even if it's just to humour me. Please?"
He sighed, running a tired hand over his face but wincing at whatever injuries were hidden under his clothes. Then he slowly, laboriously, reached for the hem of his dark blue sweater, pulling it up over his head in what would have been one smooth move if he hadn't had to stop midway through to press out a string of curses.
Holly had seen both Lestrange brothers shirtless before during their training, but she still blushed a little at the sight of Rudolphus' well-toned chest, the strong, bulging muscles of his arms. She reached out to his shoulder, carefully guiding him to turn around so that she could see his back. She sucked in a shocked breath at the bloody ruin of it, the skin bruised and torn, shredded, as if someone had taken a whip to his back and taken great care not to leave even one centimetre untouched.
"It probably looks worse than it is," Rudolphus muttered and Holly barely held back her scoff of disbelief, instead focusing on the matter at hand.
"Did she use a curse? I can't feel any residue of Dark magic, but it might be safer if Professor Snape or your brother…"
"No curse, not anymore," Rudolphus bit out, cutting her off.
"Okay," Holly agreed, hoping he wasn't just lying out of misguided pride so that she wouldn't call anyone else into this. "We have a salve that should help, but I need to clean the wounds before I can apply it and put on bandages. Do you think you could lie down? I think it would make it easier."
Rudolphus grunted, but slowly moved to stretch out on the sofa, his legs bent awkwardly because he was too tall to fit otherwise. She slipped briefly back into the bathroom to get a soft washcloth, which she soaked in warm water and some of the Antiseptic Solution Madam Pomfrey had advised her to use before she carefully began to clean his back, wincing in sympathy whenever the Dark wizard made a sound of pain and humming softly to soothe both of their nerves. She was a little surprised, though mostly relieved when Rudolphus actually drifted off after maybe a quarter of an hour, leaving her to finish treating and dressing his wounds in quietude.
"Rudolphus," she finally whispered, when she had patched up all his visible injuries to the best of her limited abilities. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
He sat up with a small groan, smirking a little when he caught the blush on her cheeks. "It's quite all right, Holly. I'll treat the rest myself. I think the Dark Lord would actually kill me if I took my pants off in front of his wife."
"I wouldn't let him," Holly gave back stubbornly, but started to put aside some potions and bandages she thought Rudolphus might still need. "How are you feeling now?"
"Better," he admitted honestly. "Thank you, Holly."
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked carefully.
He shrugged, then winced immediately when the movement pulled on his wounds. "Do you want to know?"
"I want to help you," Holly replied simply.
Rudolphus sighed deeply, rubbing his hand over his face again. "Bellatrix was in one of her moods again. I'm not sure what set her off this time – could have been anything, really. I should have realised as soon as she came into my quarters, but… I thought I could talk her out of it, make her see reason. Instead I could only serve as a target for her anger."
"Has she always been like that?" Holly asked carefully.
Rudolphus shrugged slightly. "I suppose she always had this tendency towards violence and viciousness – I used to admire her for her driving passion, her burning conviction, but after our Lord's fall, after Azkaban… I know she blames me, blames the world for what happened to her. She can't forgive and that makes her very dangerous."
A part of her wanted to ask what exactly had happened to Bellatrix, but another part quite firmly vetoed that idea because she already suspected that there were more cruelties to Azkaban than could comfortably fit into one single nightmare. And she doubted that Bellatrix would want her sympathy.
"How often has this -" She waved her hand to encompass all of Rudolphus' injuries. "- happened?"
Rudolphus just shrugged, flinching simultaneously at the movement, and Holly clenched her yaw. "That's not okay, Rudolphus. You don't deserve this – no matter what happened to her or to you or between you two."
"Divorce is not a widespread concept in the Wizarding world, Holly, especially not amongst pureblood families," Rudolphus replied tiredly. "And as much as I would like to cut ties with her, my marriage contract with Bellatrix expressly precludes any such solution."
"Then I'll find another one," Holly answered stubbornly before softening her tone again. "Why don't you stay here and rest for a bit? I'm sure you must be exhausted and I promise you will be safe here."
Before Rudolphus could reply there was a knock on the door, three short raps in quick succession, and Holly got up to check who it was.
"Holly, have you seen my brother?" Rabastan asked urgently, trying to peer around her petite form, but stopping himself short from actually pushing past her or into the quarters she shared with their Dark Lord.
"It's okay, I'm here, Raba," Rudolphus answered from behind her and she stepped aside and motioned the younger Lestrange into the room as well, firmly closing the door when they were all inside.
"Rudo… shit." Rabastan dropped heavily down next to his brother, hesitantly reaching out to touch the bandages that Holly had used to dress his wounds. "Shit. Why didn't you…? Merlin, I'm going to kill her for this!"
"You know you can't," Rudolphus reminded him. "I'm not going to lose you over this. I refuse."
"And I refuse to let her mistreat you like this!" Rabastan snapped back. "I'd rather lose everything – our family name, our estate, our magic – than have you spend even one more day shackled to that bitch!"
"It wouldn't be just that, as you well know," Rudolphus answered tiredly. "Losing everything would mean everything, Raba, including our lives."
"We never should have agreed to the terms of the marriage contract," Rabastan said bitterly.
"Why did you?" Holly asked softly.
"It's what our families wanted, to preserve the purity and ensure the continuity of the Lestrange line," Rudolphus said. "It was considered a very auspicious match, even – the joining of two old, prestigious, pure families. A marriage of convenience, nothing more, nothing less."
"Only that Bellatrix is a crazy hag and intend on making it as inconvenient as possible for everyone but herself," Rabastan snapped and Rudolphus chuckled without much humour.
"That about sums it up," he then said. "But as you can see Holly has been taking excellent care of me so you can stop worrying. That's still my prerogative as the older brother."
"What can I say, I learned from the best," Rabastan gave back, squeezing his brother's knee. "But thank you, Holly."
"I'm glad if I could help a little," she replied quietly.
"You did," Rudolphus assured her, his entire countenance softening as he lightly rested one large hand over hers. "Holly? May I ask… you said something earlier, about unhappy marriages? You know you don't deserve to be stuck in one either, right?"
"This whole situation must be incredibly difficult for you and no-one could reasonable expect you to be happy about any of it," Rabastan added in the same gentle tone when she didn't say anything. "But from what we've seen, the Dark Lord is… he's not trying to hurt you, Holly. And he would want to know if there's anything amiss."
Holly huffed out a slow breath, deeply regretting her earlier slip of the tongue. She wished she could just brush them off, but at the same time she knew that it wouldn't be fair after she had had all but twisted Rudolphus' arm to get him to accept her help.
"He's not. He's generous and charming and even kind, in his own way," she murmured, wrapping her arms protectively around herself. "He says that in here, he's not the Dark Lord or Voldemort or You-Know-Who, just Tom, my husband, and he makes sure to act like it. And it's nice, for a while. But it never lasts. I go to sleep and I'm fine, safe in Tom's little pretence. But then the nightmares start and there's no escaping them because when I wake up…"
When she woke up, she was still in her nightmares, caught in Voldemort's arms, his cold laughter echoing through her mind, sickly green light flashing before her eyes and the darkness of his magic threatening to swallow her whole. Tom didn't need to do anything to her – all the damage had already been done.
She found herself with two strong pairs of arms wrapped around her, gathered against Rabastan's warm chest while Rudolphus drew light circles against her heaving back. They didn't say anything, but that was okay because she knew there was nothing to say. They held her, let her wipe her tears against Rabastan's robes and just kept her safe until she managed to put herself back together.
"'m sorry," she whispered, wiping at her wet cheeks in embarrassment. "This isn't about me."
"No, Holly, don't apologise. I'm glad you told us, even if there may not be much we can do," Rudolphus replied softly, apologetically.
"But at the very least we can offer you a shoulder to cry on, whenever you might be in need of it," Rabastan continued with a quirked smile, conjuring up a handkerchief for her and pressing it into her hand. "We mean that, Holly."
"Thank you," Holly said weakly before pointing to the potions and bandages she had put aside earlier. "These are for you. I'll just put the rest of this stuff away so… take your time."
She got up quickly, hoping that Rudolphus would let his brother tend to whatever wounds may still be hidden under his clothes. In the bathroom, she took a few more moments just to breathe before she carefully put all the little bottles and medical supplies back into their accustomed places.
When she came back out, the two brothers were sitting next to each other on the sofa, their shoulders touching, their heads bent together, though Rabastan immediately rose to his feet at her entrance, Rudolphus attempting to do the same before his brother pressed him back into his seat with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Holly rolled her eyes at both of them. "You don't have to get up, you know? And I thought I told you to rest, Rudolphus? I'll get some blankets and you can get comfortable here. And I'm sure Dobby will be happy to bring you anything else you need."
"Dobby will, Mistress Holly, Dobby will be very happy indeed," the house-elf popped up, eagerly bobbing his head and then snapping his long, spindly fingers to make a small mountain of blankets and pillows appear in front of them.
"Thank you, Dobby, you're the best." Holly smiled at him, kneeling down for a moment to rest her hands on his slight shoulders. "Do you know where Tom is, by any chance?"
"Mister You-Know-Who is in his study," Dobby replied immediately, in a whispery voice, still more than a little cautious of the Dark Lord.
"Thank you. I'll go talk to him, but I'm putting you in charge of making sure that my friends have everything they need, okay?"
Dobby nodded enthusiastically again, almost tripping over his words to express his gratitude and eagerness to help. Holly smiled at him, as always warmed by his kindness and unconditional support, and then slipped out of the door, leaving the Lestrange brother's in Dobby's more than capable hands.
§*§*§*§*§
"Tom?" Holly asked, poking her head into the Dark Lord's study and finding not only the man in question but Lucius as well, the two Dark wizards seemingly in the middle of yet another scheming session. "Hi, Lucius."
They both rose to their feet, Lucius adding a respectful inclination of his head as they greeted her.
"Holly, what a nice surprise," Tom said with a smile, stepping towards her but then stopping shy of breaking into her personal space and instead holding his hand out to her in a wordless request. "After you departed so abruptly from breakfast I wasn't expecting to see you again for a while. Is there anything you needed?"
Holly suppressed a sigh and slid her hand into his, allowing him to pull her into a loose, but nonetheless possessive embrace. "I want to talk to you about something. In private?"
"I'll take that as my cue, shall I, my Lord?" Lucius offered, exchanging an amused look with the Dark Lord. "Holly, it was as always a pleasure seeing you."
"Thank you for understanding," Holly replied. "Please say hi to Narcissa for me."
Lucius bowed briefly before striding from the room, leaving her alone with her husband. Tom lightly squeezed her waist to draw her attention and led her over to the small seating area next the fireplace where Nagini was contently snoozing on the Persian rug. She didn't know where to start, hesitating at the thought of how unhappy Rudolphus would be with her if she went ahead with this. But she couldn't bear the alternative and Tom had some debts to settle.
"I need you to talk to Bellatrix," she said.
"Has she been bothering you again?" Tom demanded immediately and Holly winced at the shooting pain in her scar.
"No, not me. But… she's been hurting my friend."
"Your friend?" Tom asked only to answer himself in the next moment. "Rudolphus." He sighed deeply. "I'm certainly glad that you're starting to feel more at home here and make friends, Holly, but what happens in their marriage is none of our concern. It wouldn't pay off to butt into their personal affairs."
Holly drew back, shaking off the hand he had placed on her knee. "That's bullshit! All these interviews and charitable donations and public appearances, all your promises and assurances, this entire grand scheme to convince the Wizarding world that you're not who you were made out to be, that you will change things for the better, that you can be trusted – how do you expect anyone to believe you if you can't even be bothered to care for the people who were willing to sacrifice everything for your cause, who were sentenced to years of imprisonment for their loyalty to you?"
§*§*§*§*§
Holly was saying more, arguing and pleading in turn, but he was stuck on her earlier words, the implication of what she had said. How do you expect anyone to believe you? Meaning of course, How do you expect me to believe you?
It seemed a strange concept to him that anyone would draw inferences from his behaviour of others and reflect it onto themselves. It was quite the opposite to his Death Eaters, who were mostly content as long as there was still someone below them in the pecking order – an attitude he had admittedly fostered over the years as it assured him of their fealty and obedience without requiring any undue effort on his part.
But of course that wouldn't work for his little wife, with her soft, soft heart and her sweeping saviour complex fostered by Dumbledore's machinations. The thought wasn't accompanied by bitterness or scorn, only a slight case of amusement and undeniable fondness. Holly cared, more than anyone else he knew, and what was more she had the ability to inspire others to do the same. Even Dark Lords, it seemed. The thought briefly crossed his mind that if he wasn't careful she was likely to change him in ways he had never intended when he proposed this marriage, but then he dismissed it, too pleased with the fact that she had come to him for help again.
"… if you won't do it, I'll ask Sirius, but I think we both know that has the very real potential of just making everything worse," Holly said, her eyes raised to his in a silent challenge, righteous anger fairly crackling around her slender form.
"I'll have a talk with her," Tom spoke up, smirking at the surprise he could read on her face and gently caught her in his arms again, containing his little Angel of Justice in his embrace. "I can't promise she will listen, though."
"Thank you, Tom, and I'm sure she will," Holly replied with confidence. "And you'll change the password to Rudolphus' rooms?"
"I'll leave that in your capable hands, kitten," Tom replied, pressing soft kisses to her knuckles. "You still remember how I changed the password to our quarters? It's the same method for all the rooms in this castle."
"Okay." Holly nodded. "I'll do that now, then. And will you talk to the rest of the former prisoners as well? I really think you should. Azkaban must have been a traumatic experience for them as well and even if they're free now, they still have to deal with that and somehow get their lives back together. It's not enough to just set them up with rooms in your castle and expect them to be fine."
"I'll call a meeting after dinner," Tom promised, trying to bite back his smirk at how adorable he found her in her assertiveness. He still remembered, a long time ago, when he had been as idealistic, when he had believed that any injustice needed to be rectified post-haste, that there was always a clear right and wrong. He found himself wanting to safeguard that innocence, to protect her light so that it would never get dimmed by those many shades of grey. It was a foolish hope, perhaps, especially given his own stakes in opening her eyes to some of the truths Dumbledore had so carefully kept hidden from her.
Holly nodded in approval, giving him a sweet, tentative smile. "Thank you, Tom."
"And here I thought flowers were the way to your heart," he teased, laughing at her blush. "Come on, I'll walk with you."
"I told Rudolphus that he could rest in our quarters. I wanted him to be safe," Holly refuted him softly, her shoulders tensing as if she expected a short-tempered response.
"Why does that not surprise me?" Tom asked rhetorically with a barely suppressed sigh, lightly caressing his hand over her small shoulders to soothe her again. "Take Nagini with you; she will alert me if there's any trouble."
She threw him a slightly suspicious look, but acquiesced, even allowing him a chaste little kiss before she slipped from his grasp and disappeared down the hall towards their quarters, Nagini following her with a soft hiss.
§*§*§*§*§
The talk with Bellatrix had gone about as well as he had expected, which meant to say that there had been a lot of simpering, fawning compliments on her part before she had divined the purpose of his long-awaited visit, whereupon the conversation had dissolved into non-magical cursing, insults towards Rudolphus for his weakness and Holly for her meddling and dripping scorn for his own decisions. Bellatrix had made it clear that she was more than disappointed with the new tone of their campaign, disgusted that he was willing to whitewash and abandon what she called their "true" objectives for a fuck – not even that because he was so blinded by his infatuation, his noisome attachment to his little Gryffindor cunt that he didn't even notice how she was leading him around like a puppy on a leash, how she was turning him into just another one of Dumbledore's puppets.
Needless to say, he had not been amused. Holly had wanted him to talk to Bellatrix, make her see the error of her ways in regards to the spousal abuse she all too eagerly dished out to Rudolphus and maybe get her to open up about the underlying reasons for her behaviour. None of that had come to pass though.
He had talked at her, then shouted to make himself heard, then hexed her into silence to actually get her to listen. And then, at the end of his limited reserves of patience, he had set her an ultimatum: Either she could stop her attacks on Rudolphus, on Holly and on whoever else might be unfortunate enough to draw her ire; or she could leave.
"Make no mistake, Bella. I will not tolerate insubordination, from you or from anyone else, and if you continue to prove yourself incapable of following my clear orders, well then, I will be happy to show you some of the edge you seem to assume I've lost."
He'd allowed himself a sinister smirk, twirling his wand between his fingers, and hadn't been quite surprised to see the flash of desire in Bellatrix' eyes before it had been replaced again by fury and rage and madness. He had always seen that in her, of course, had known to use it to his advantage in the past, but maybe Holly was right in suspecting that Azkaban had further weakened Bellatrix's already tenuous grasp on sanity, that she was becoming a liability rather than an asset.
Of course, Holly would never put it like that. She had probably hoped that Bellatrix would be so moved by his interest in her that she would readily apologize for her wrongdoings and tearfully confess all her darkest, most traumatic secrets so that Tom could assure her that her bad behaviour was nothing more than an expression of her tortured soul.
One day, Holly would have to learn that some people were beyond help, but Tom certainly wasn't going to be the one to dash her hopes. So when she asked him about his conversation with Bellatrix, he merely told her that the Dark witch was taking some time to think things through, away from the castle and her husband.
Holly nodded pensively, giving him a small, approving smile, and then turned back to her dinner and to fussing over Rudolphus, who was sitting rather stiffly in his chair but had relaxed marginally at Tom's answer and accepted Holly's care and attention with a slightly baffled expression of wonder. Tom tried not to give in to his jealousy though Holly still reached up, absently rubbing over her scar. He saw with regret that it already looked a little red and inflamed after his lack of even-temperedness with Bellatrix. He resisted the urge of reaching out to her and instead went back to his own dinner and surreptitiously observing his wife.
Holly had shown little surprise at the new faces around the dinner table, returning the greetings of the Death Eaters she hadn't met before with timid smiles. But all in all, she seemed too focused on Rudolphus to make much of an attempt at small talk. She had only startled a little when Melisandre Bulstrode and Dauphina Nott had entered the hall, though whether that was because she hadn't expected there to be any more female Death Eaters or because all the men rose to their feet at their entrance, Tom couldn't have said.
When dinner was over, all the plates and dishes cleared away, Tom gently took Holly's hand to pull her to her feet and summoned her robes with a quick flick of his wand. A moment later, the black material fluttered through one of the half-open windows, winding itself through the small crack like a wyvern. He caught it easily and then carefully settled it around her slight shoulders.
She allowed this with obvious bemusement, but then twisted around in surprise when the Death Eaters also rose, straightening their robes and putting on their masks. §What are they doing, Tom?§ she asked in a soft hiss, startling further when the long table and all the chairs disappeared, the Dark Lord's throne and a slightly smaller replica for Holly appearing on the short dais at one end of the hall. "What…?"
§I thought you wanted me to call a meeting?§ Tom asked, trying to lead her to her seat. §A certain degree of formality is to be expected, Holly, but I promise you have nothing to fear.§
§I'm not afraid, Tom! I just think that making them stand while you sit on your throne and look down on them will not help put them at ease,§ Holly informed him with a scoff before turning away from him. "Winky, Dobby, we will need that table and the chairs back, please."
Her request was fulfilled immediately and she moved away from his guiding hand and settled back into her chair, smiling at the confused Death Eaters. "Please, take a seat. There's no need for all this formality. Tom just wanted a chance to talk to all of you."
She threw him a prompting look until he turned away from his throne and waved his followers back into their seats before sinking into his own high-backed chair at the head of the newly reinstated table. His Death Eaters followed immediately, some of them still fiddling with their masks, others exchanging worried glances. He suppressed a sigh.
"You can put away your masks. We shall handle this a little more casually, I think," he said, rolling his eyes at Holly when she beamed at him in approval.
"My Lord, may I enquire why we're here then?" Melisandre asked, arching one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows in delicate question.
"It has been brought to my attention – " Tom sent Holly an ironic little smirk. " – that perhaps I should have been doing more to aide your recovery and re-entry into society after your time in Azkaban. I'm willing to hear any complaints you may have."
Silence, a bit of awkward shifting, then Holly kicked him under the table, hard. §Tom, you're supposed to be nice, approachable! No-one will want to talk about their problems if they think you're going to take it as a reproach to your leadership skills!§
§You're still assuming there are any problems, but please, feel free to elaborate on my words,§ Tom replied, making an inviting gesture with his hand and quietly enjoying Holly's wide-eyed look of panic. §Come on, kitten, it's not like you to be shy.§
She glared at him, which only made him smirk wider, before she straightened her posture and softly cleared her throat. "You were all imprisoned in Azkaban during or after the First Wizarding War. Maybe you deserved it; maybe you didn't. It's not for me to judge that and it's not what this is about. But you paid a heavy price for your allegiance to Tom, and you're still paying it now even after you're supposedly free, after the war is supposedly over. I don't think that's fair."
"Not all of us are as weak-willed and mentally fragile as your godfather." Antonin sneered before turning to Tom, his entire demeanour becoming more obsequious. "There are no issues, my Lord. I for one have always considered it an honour to serve you and make whatever sacrifice necessary."
"You lost years of your life – whether or not you conceived of your imprisonment as a nightmare without end or a mere inconvenience," Holly replied, meeting Antonin's dark gaze without flinching. "Meanwhile the rest of Tom's followers went on as normal, barely a mark on their records. They have families now, children, financial security, employment. What of those do you have? And what would you have had if Azkaban hadn't been such a long chapter in your lives?"
There was another silence, but of a slightly different quality as Holly's words seemed to resonate with many of the assembled Death Eaters. A few exchanged glances, others looked deep in thought, but still no-one seemed willing to speak up.
"Tom has been so busy trying to change the entire world, to make it better, supposedly, and I think he should have started by helping you. Even if it's just the small stuff," Holly said, looking around the table and finally zeroing in on one of his Death Eaters. "David, you mentioned that your rooms here don't get a lot of sunlight, that they're quite cold in the winter? I'm sure Tom could assign you other quarters. Some of the vacant rooms on the south side even have balconies, if you'd like?"
"That was just a fleeting remark," David protested, his posture rigid. "I would never question our Lord's generosity."
Tom dismissed his words with a wave of his hand. "I know that some of the rooms here can be quite drafty. And Holly has been busy exploring the castle these last few weeks so she will have a good overview of which rooms are still available. You can take a look at those and decide if there's one that better suits your needs."
"Thank you, my Lord, very kind of you," David murmured, but Tom waved his words away again.
"It's an easy thing to change and this offer stands for all of you, of course," he declared. "Are there any other concerns?"
After a moment, Marcus Mulciber carefully cleared his throat. "I'm very appreciative of the accommodation you're offering us here, my Lord, but perhaps while we're on the subject, you might also have some advice on how to reclaim our own family estates. As you know our assets were seized and the Ministry seems reluctant to release them back to us now."
Antonin and Rudolphus both nodded in agreement, and Rudolphus added, "Our family seat was claimed by the House of Black, but the Ministry has been less than cooperative in facilitating its return to us."
"I'll talk to Sirius about that. I doubt he'd mind giving it back," Holly offered immediately.
"Thank you, Holly, we would appreciate that, even though it might not be quite so easy," Rabastan replied, both brothers grinning at Holly's stubborn expression. Tom was very sure that this was one problem he could safely leave in Holly's capable hands so he turned to Antonin and Marcus instead.
"The law is clear and I also included a provision regarding this in the peace contract: All your family heirlooms and estates should have been returned to you upon your official release," he said.
"I think the Ministry's position is that they're not subject to that since they never had the chance to officially release us," Marcus pointed out with a slightly ironic grin.
Tom sighed. "Have Brutus recommend one of his colleagues, then. I'm sure a law suit – or the threat of a law suit – will work wonders on speeding up the bureaucratic processes in the Ministry."
"Thank you, my Lord," Antonin and Marcus replied, with respectful inclinations of their heads and Tom was starting to think that Holly's idea might have some merit after all.
Now that the ice had been broken, a few of the others spoke up, mentioning smaller, more personal issues, such as valuable heirlooms that had curiously disappeared into the Ministry's vaults, careers that had been cut short and old relationships that had fallen by the wayside before Rabastan broached the topic of wands.
"Our own wands were snapped of course, so Rudolphus has been using our father's wand, which is a good enough fit, but that left our great-aunt Roberta's wand for me and it's not… ideal, my Lord," he said, garnering several nods and general agreement from around the table.
"Can't you buy a new wand?" Holly asked. "That's what Sirius did."
"Just walk into Diagon Alley, you say?" Antonin sneered. "Of course, why not? I'm sure the lynch mob will only delay us for a little while."
"If you cannot be civil when addressing my wife, you will not address her at all," Tom warned him and Antonin ducked his head immediately.
"It's still a problem, though, isn't it, my Lord?" Dauphina asked with a nervous flutter of her eyelashes. "I was able to visit Diagon Alley relatively unnoticed, but I can well imagine that it would be much more difficult for some of our more prominent members…"
"Why don't you ask Mr. Ollivander if he would be willing to open his shop on a Sunday? I'm sure he'd like the chance to make some good sales… and I don't think he cares much about politics," Holly suggested softly, her tone more careful than it had been before.
"That's a very good idea, Holly," Tom assured her, smiling at his clever little wife and holding her gaze even as he addressed his next words to someone else. "Antonin, you will set it up."
"Yes, my Lord," he murmured obediently and Holly's lips quirked for a moment, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"For this weekend?" she asked with an air of innocent inquiry and Tom nodded with a smirk. "I'm sure it must be horrible having to use a wand that's not suited to you. I feel cold just touching yours and it has the same core as mine."
"When did you discover that?" Tom asked curiously, arching his eyebrow.
§I can feel your wand every time you pull me into your arms,§ Holly replied in a nervous hiss.
§Oh, kitten, that isn't my wand. I'm just always happy to see you,§ Tom shot back with a grin, laughing when Holly stared at him in incredulous shock, her cheeks tinting a deep red.
"You're a horrible person," she finally muttered, turning away from him with a huff.
"As I've been told before, many times, but never by someone more beautiful," Tom gave back, catching her hand and leading it to his lips, only laughing again at her unimpressed scowl.
"Did you get all your lines from bad romance novels?" she demanded, pulling back her hand and crossing her arms over her chest.
Tom grinned, winking at her, but then decided not to tease her further. "Speaking of novels, how's your next oeuvre coming along, Marcus? Some good publicity could be very beneficial for us."
"I just sent back the final proofs today, my Lord, so the book should be ready for publication soon," Marcus said. "I'm the author of a series of horror novels – a rather fortunate career choice given that the notoriety of being written by an Azkaban inmate only seems to have added to their popularity."
He explained the last for Holly's benefit, conjuring up one of his books and floating it into her hands for her perusal.
"Hey, I've seen this before! Ron is a huge fan of this series," she exclaimed. "And you're the author? That's brilliant!"
"Indeed. It is perhaps a good thing that I did not set out to write romance novels," he replied. "I doubt the – shall we say particular? – atmosphere of Azkaban would have been as conducive to that genre…"
"Still no luck with the ladies?" Melisandre asked, in a tone of jocular ribbing. "You should take out a personal ad, find yourself a little pen pal."
"Or you could do a book signing," Holly suggested eagerly. "I bet you could gain a few new fans and meet new people – and it would be good publicity, right? Something other than all those boring interviews and press conferences."
"It's so good to know that I have your support, Holly," Tom gave back sarcastically and Holly, predictably, rolled her expressive green eyes at him.
"You said yourself that you find them boring, that they don't amount to anything because the Daily Prophet always prints an opposing point of view with quotes from Dumbledore or Fudge or someone else right next to it," she pointed out, a little too smugly. "So why not try something else? And it should be Mr. Mulciber's decision, anyway."
"My publisher has made the same suggestion actually," Marcus interjected politely. "I was sceptical at first, but if my Lord thinks it would be a good idea…"
"It could be… especially if Holly would be willing to attend as well," Tom said, looking at his dear little wife in question.
So far she had always turned him down when he had asked her to make a public appearance with him and he had thought it best not to try his luck by forcing her to accompany him. He had been able to see her unease, her distaste of being dragged into the spotlight when that went so against her nature. But this had been her idea.
"You will not be using me as a prop," Holly finally declared after a long pause, glaring at him, then at Marcus for good measure, until they both nodded in agreement. "Good, and you should probably tell Lucius to sit this one out because during the last book signing he started a fistfight with Mr. Weasley."
"Beg your pardon?" Rudolphus asked.
"I can't imagine Lucius in a physical altercation," Rabastan added just as sceptically.
"I don't think he quite intended for it to go that far, but... you can probably still find some newspaper articles about it if you're interested. Lockhart was delighted about all the excitement, insisted that it should be included in the article about his book signing," Holly said, but she seemed more subdued now as if she had thought of something that had soured her mood.
"Lockhart? Gilderoy Lockhart?" Dauphina asked, wrinkling her pert little nose. "The one who wrote all those self-aggrandising, frustratingly vague Defence against the Dark Arts books?"
Holly nodded. "He was our Defence teacher in Second Year, got knocked around by Professor Snape in a duel and then managed to wipe his own memory with Ron's broken wand."
"I'll have to revise my lessons plans if that has been the standard of your education so far," Tom commented. "And I doubt that what you saw was a proper Wizard's duel."
"It was very, very short," Holly admitted with a fleeting grin. "But Professor Snape was still brilliant."
"We could have a proper duel soon," David said. "It would be a good chance to try out our new wands."
The idea was received with some enthusiasm, Rudolphus and Rabastan declaring that they would like to participate as well and Antonin already issuing challenges. But Tom's focus was on Holly, who had grown quiet and withdrawn again, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she was cold.
"Holly?" he murmured gently, not liking how much she startled, almost flinching away from him before she rallied again.
"Will they get hurt?" she whispered back.
"I foresee some bruised egos, but nothing that would cause permanent damage," he assured her, trying to lighten the mood with an easy grin and a little wink, but then softened his tone again when Holly only nodded jerkily. §Holly, is something the matter?§
He had meant to ask, but at his first syllable, Holly jerked away, crashing against Rabastan's side, who just managed to stabilise her against his side before she could tumble to the floor. The lights flickered. And Holly's eyes were still wide in terror, her chest heaving with too quick breaths, even as she balled her hands into fists and slid back into her chair, curling up – and away from him – as much as possible.
"Thank you for this meeting, my Lord," Rudolphus said loudly, speaking over some of the others who were still discussing what rules should be set for the planned duel, thankfully ignorant to Holly's panic attack. "It was very productive, I thought. And we are very grateful to have your support."
"Just as I appreciate your support, Rudolphus," Tom replied truthfully. "Please feel free to bring any other concerns to my attention. The meeting is adjourned."
His Death Eaters reacted immediately, recognising their clear dismissal, murmuring their gratitude and farewells before getting up without delay and either Disapparating directly or swiftly directing their steps from the hall. Holly slipped out with them before he could even think to call her back. The younger Lestrange followed on her heels and Tom hoped that he would keep an eye on her. Rudolphus, though, lingered behind, all his movements slow and cautious, with a stiffness in his posture as if his muscles had turned to lead weights.
Tom softly cleared his throat. "I want you to know that Holly has not betrayed your confidence, but Bella had no such compunctions and she was very eager to boast her actions."
"My Lord…"
"Do you need to see a healer, Rudolphus?" Tom interrupted him.
"No, my Lord, thank you. Holly saw to most of my wounds and Rabastan helped me with the rest with the potions and salves she gave us," Rudolphus replied, inclining his head and smiling cautiously. "She will be a very good healer one day."
"I don't doubt it," Tom agreed. "She has the right instincts for it."
He made a vague motion with his hand, indicating Rudolphus and the meeting that had just broken up, then sighed when his eyes fell on Holly's chair and he remembered her sudden frailty.
"Rabastan will see her safely to your chambers, my Lord," Rudolphus offered and Tom nodded. "My Lord, if I may… she is putting up such a strong front and she has such a cheerful disposition – always ready to offer her sympathy and even her forgiveness – that I think it is sometimes easy to forget how much strength all of this is costing her."
"I know, Rudolphus, I know only too well," Tom replied, turning to leave the hall. "You should get some rest. Walden will take over your sentry duty for tonight."
"Thank you, my Lord," Rudolphus answered, but Tom had already quickened his steps to check on his little wife.
When he found her, after a few quickly exchanged words with Rabastan, who had stood guard outside of their quarters, and Nagini, who had also been banished from their rooms, she was curled up on the very edge of the bed, buried under so many blankets that he could only see the top of her head.
He suppressed a sigh and slid to his knees next to her, hesitating over whether or not to reach out to her. He decided against it. She looked so small and fragile, so desperately unhappy with her eyes squeezed shut and her brows pulled together.
"Holly? Whatever happened, whatever frightened you so, I promise you're okay. You're safe here and no-one will hurt you on my watch," he whispered, waiting in vain for a reply; he sighed. "Get some sleep, little kitten. I'm here if you need anything."
Holly didn't answer and when he woke the next morning she was gone.