NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. NO PROFITS BEING MADE. The only thing I'm getting out of posting is the hope to give others the same little dopamine rush.
TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THE STORY: SA (sexual and substance abuse), violence, death, and sex. lots of sex.
XXX
For the second time within twenty-four hours, I found myself questioning the state of my mortality.
The cherry blossom scent was undeniably linked to death. A pleasant afterlife, sure, but an experience with the prerequisite of death. But as I looked around, I began to notice the signs of imitation. The subtle differences in the atmosphere that told me this was not a return to the land beyond the living, but rather someone's memory of it.
And at that thought, my mother replied, "Very good, Andrella. I always knew you'd be a clever one, but I must say you are even more beautiful than I imagined. A bit thinner, too. Have they been feeding you properly at that school? No matter anymore, I suppose."
Her voice was not what I remembered it to be, higher and shriller. There was also an undeniable French accent I had not heard before. At least not since the vision memory of her sobbing at the dress shop in Hogsmeade. And as I finally turned to locate the sound of her voice, I understood why. My mother was like I never saw her, never imagined her to be–barely older than I am now and just visibly pregnant with me. She approached me with one hand waving eagerly and the other rubbing her slightly swollen stomach.
"M-mum?" I asked hesitantly, the title feeling odd in addressing a stranger. A strange teenager that looked like my fraternal twin.
"Oh, Merlin. I had no right to hope, no right to long to hear you say that word to me." She muttered to herself through her tears as she wobbled closer. "You'll never know how much it means to hear you say it. Thank you."
"Why–? How–? What–?" I started and stopped, so many questions running through my mind and I was so unsure of which to ask first.
"Don't worry, daughter. We have plenty of time together now." Emmaleena mustered her most comforting voice, one hand now rubbing my shoulder in the same pattern as her stomach. "I know you've endured endless trials to get to this point and we can go through them all. I can try to explain as much as I am able. Shall I start with where we are and how we are here together?"
I simply nodded as the shock of the situation finally began to wear off. My brain was now in a frenzy trying to process all the emotions of the last day, month, year that were now swirling inside me. At the same time I was also trying to process the fact that this was my mother, at almost the same age I am right now, currently pregnant with me. If we were on earth and not the land beyond the living, I know my magic would be spinning out of control.
"We're actually not quite in the land beyond the living, and not quite a memory either. More like a vision really. And this is you, but also not quite yet." She corrected my thoughts and I was curious enough not to question the invasion of privacy.
"You see, Ismerte pregnancies are not only incredibly rare, but they're also incredibly different from other magic folk." She continued before I could ask. "In many ways, but the most important actually explains how we're here. If an Ismerte makes it to the third trimester, it is certain the mother will die within a fortnight of childbirth. It's part of the curse. But another part of the curse is the small blessing of being able to communicate with the children we'll never know in the mortal, living world.
"We are currently both on an astral projection of our souls in a place outside of time and space.This reality only exists in the confines of the diary. It is a realm created by a blood spell that can only be achieved by Ismerte mothers and daughters. Another blessing is that you can now access it anytime you are alone and can spare a drop of blood. Couldn't get around that one unfortunately." Emmaleena finished with a joke.
"I–what? Why now? Why only mothers and daughters?" I sputtered out the first questions I could form, feeling like I was onto something while also missing the thestral in the room.
"We both know you already know why, Andrella. And I am sorry. Truly. I can understand why you'd describe it as a thestral. It's quite accurate really. Truly terrible, but dead on. Oh, no. There we both go. At least, I'll live on in your sense of humor, eh?" She laughed nervously, clearly worried she offended me.
"Don't worry. You passed on rambling, joking, laughing, and generally putting a foot in the mouth when nervous, too" I jested back, before clearing my throat awkwardly.
Emmaleena nodded her head eagerly, hand resuming its soothing circles on my back almost made it harder to say what needed to be said.
"It was a miscarriage, afterall, was it? Not alcohol poisoning?" I said it anyway and I was proud. But the words hung heavy in the air like the toxic smog of a dungbomb.
"I'm afraid so, dear." Emmaleena apologized.
" 'suppose it's for the best, isn't it? Seeing as they'd have been born with fetal alcohol syndrome and no father." I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I regretted it when I saw Emmaleena's grimace.
"Sometimes it's better not to know one's father." The sullen expression said more than her words, but I could feel there was a right for her to be bitter. Or rather, I knew.
"Is that why I never knew mine?"
"Yes."
"Will you tell me anyway?" I asked brazenly, suddenly conflicted with emotion at her tears as she nodded her head. I didn't want to cause her distress but the curiosity I thought I smothered years ago roared to life inside me like Fiendfyre.
"Sit." Emmaleena choked out, gesturing to the rocking chairs she conjured from the clouds. " I'm afraid it'll have to be a bit of a roundabout answer. I have to tell you a story or two to preface the news. I promise this will come as quite an upsetting shock to you."
"Okay…" I said as I sunk into the cloud chair, instantly feeling better. Like I was wrapped in warm, wispy comfort.
"I'll just give you the basics of my childhood for now. We can revisit the dirty details later if you'd like. But to get to the point before you're bored of me talking–'
"Likely story." I interrupted with a snort that made Emmaleena click her tongue in an affectionately disapproving way.
"But to understand how your father came to be so, I must first introduce you to my parents. Would you like to meet your grandparents, Andrella?" Emmaleena asked in a tone that suggested she did not recommend it.
"As long as you promise to double back and explain that line about how the baby inside of you isn't 'quite me'" I replied sweetly, knowing I had a right to demand answers but also that she had a right to refuse to answer if I was being an insensitive jerk.
"Very clever, indeed. It's a wonder how you ended up in the lion's den with a wit like that, my dear." Emmaleena chuckled. "No worry–I didn't attend Hogwarts long enough to get house pride or prejudice."
"You were a Ravenclaw, right?"
"Yes, indeed. For half of my sixth year and all of my seventh." Emmaleena answered. "Something Ellanora and Lionel found less than desirable but better than any of the other remaining options."
"Remaining?"
"Your grandparents were French and they raised me as such, expecting me to finish my education at Beauxbattons. When that option flew off the Quidditch pitch, their plan was to enroll me into Hogwarts so I could live in Slytherin house and be monitored by my cousin. He was respectable in their eyes and malicious enough to accept such a role. But we'll get to that soon enough. Safe to say you're ready to meet them?"
"After that warm introduction? Oh, absolutely." I grimaced, preparing myself for the worst.
"Oh, I'm afraid you're right about that. As far as blood purity goes, Ellanora and Lionel are amongst some of the most devout." Emmaleena snorted, looking just about ready to literally spit on their names.
At my clear confusion, she clarified, "If it's one thing I can't stand, it's bloody hypocrites."
The memory of Dumbledore trapped against the wall by my magic flashes through my mind, specifically the disappointment in his eyes. Not at the fact he was about to strip me of my magic, but born of the fact he would never have the power to do so again. "I agree." I said coldly, spitting down on the ground.
Emmaleena's snorted response surprised us both into laughter. Emmaleena reached out to place a hand on my elbow, I looked down at her slender and perfectly manicured hand before glancing back up at her face. She offered me a warm yet sad smile as she asked, "You're sure you're ready to face my past?"
"Seems more appealing than my future," I shrugged, offering her my own resigned smile. "Let's do this. "
"You don't have to close your eyes, but it might be a bit jarring if you don't." Emmaleena warned as she gripped my arm tighter.
I nodded my understanding but didn't close my eyes. I was too curious for my own good, as usual. But I figured the headache might be worth it as I watched the hazy environment begin to melt into nonexistence.
A blink I couldn't resist and shapes began to form in the pale nothingness. A stifling coldness sunk deep in my bones before the shapes could gain meaning. The unmistakable feeling of danger shaped a false expectation, a ghost of a vision.
Another blink, deliberate this time. A guided breath, in and out. In, out.
I opened my eyes to a familiar yet foreign sight. My breath caught again as I realized why I felt I've been here before, why I felt so uneasy. The room was not an office but a dining room, but made of the same unrelenting white marble. It was carved out of the same ice as the study in Malfoy Manor.
Instead of Draco and Renea seated across a desk with Lucius Malfoy looming over them, I saw three sets of blond heads tucked over their plates as the trio ate silently. The only one with hair as pale as Malfoy was also the only man sitting at the table. The woman's hair was a dark golden color, the child seated between them had hair somewhere in-between the two. The distance between them was palatable, insurmountable. I squinted at the little girl of about seven until realization struck.
"Yes, that's me. It's my seventh birthday." Emmaleena explained.
"Birthday? But–" my eyes darted around the room searching for any sign or indication of celebration.
"You won't find anything. The silence is their gift." Emmaleena said cryptically. I was going to call her out on said crypticness but her expression stopped me.
The man–Lionel began to speak.
"Are your belongings ready for your trip to your Uncle Abraxas' estate?" He said in English with a thick heavy accent and I turned to my mother in confusion.
"I know you don't speak French." Emmaleena shrugged with an easy smile before schooling her face and pointing to her younger self.
"Yes, Father, but–" young Emmaleena was cut off by Ellanora shushing her, eyes going wider at the outburst than narrowing.
Lionel held up a hand to his wife and turned his attention to his daughter with a frown. "'But'?"
Emmaleena turned to her mother instinctually, and with her mother's nod to continue, Emmaleena turned back to her father with squared shoulders.
"But I don't want to stay at Uncle Abraxas'. Him and Lucius are mean to me and I don't wanna be away from you and Mother all summer." Emmaleena whined, her emotions revealing her young age.
"Silence! Enough of your disrespectful nonsense!" Lionel shouted, voice raising as his daughter began to cry. "Silence yourself you silly, soft girl. You're ungrateful to your uncle and cousin for opening their home to you and you are disrespectful to me for speaking of my brother and nephew this way. Go to your room.
"NOW!" Lionel shouted again as Emmaleena made no immediate move to leave. She did not need to be told a third time.
As we followed the little girl version of my mother up the stairs, I turned my attention to the somewhat grownup version. "Was he always like that?"
"Like I said, it's my birthday. This simple dismissal was another gift." Emmaleena shrugged again.
We remained silent as we followed the younger version of Emmaleena into her childhood bedroom. The space was large and the furniture filling it was ornate and obstinate. It was devoid of possessions, color, warmth, and light. The child did not bother to light a torch or disrobe before burrowing down into the blankets on the bed. She had barely finished covering herself before the child turned into a quivering wreck. The thick furs barely muffled the sound of her sobbing.
Emmaleena's tone was gentle and soft as she began to explain why she was showing me something so awful.
"Ellanora and Lionel could not produce a child of their own. When the magical tests revealed my father was infertile, they kept the secret. They told everyone they were going on the late honeymoon that had never happened before due to Lionel's work. They spent the year hunting magical couples down and offering them obscene amounts of money for their child.
"Eventually they happened across a young woman, sobbing in a tavern outside of Edinburgh. She was dirty, bloody, and incoherent. They bought her a round and offered to buy her dinner if she would tell them her story.
"Her name was Andrea. She was a ward of the state, left in the care of the nuns. She was traveling to the city to see more of the world. A group of rouges assaulted her as she traveled through the night. She didn't know she had magic until the outburst that resulted from the assault. She was shaken and unsure, but she knew they were all dead now and that somehow she was the cause.
"Ellanora was a skilled Legimillimes. She saw that Andrea disposed of the rouges by transforming into a dragon and burning them all. She also saw that Andrea didn't believe the truth and her mind was already helping her forget the trauma of the forced transformation. My parents struck a deal with Andrea to buy her baby off of her after providing them with proof of the pregnancy. Andrea died in labor, but they kept their promise to her."
After a long silence, I finally asked, surprised by the thickness of my voice, "What was the promise?"
"That Ellanora and Lionel assume the role of my parents and never mention her to me or tell me I was not theirs by blood." Emmaleena explained. "After my birth, Andrea asked them to hold onto a journal of hers and give it to me as a present on my seventeenth birthday. They did that."
"Was it…?"
"Her own version of this to me?" Emmaleena finished kindly when I was not able to find the words. "Yes, it was."
I didn't realize I was crying until the grown version of my mother was wiping tears away with nimble fingers. At the touch my body began to heave with heavy sobs that matched the timing of the younger version of my mother still huddled under the covers.
After a long while, when all my tears had been cried, I looked up to my mother. I saw her eyes dry but red, her smile tight and forced as she lowered her hand to rest on my shoulder. "Come on, I think we've seen enough of this place for tonight."
I nodded my head wordlessly, feeling like it was a betrayal to turn from the crying child but unable to stay and listen for a moment longer.
This time I heeded the initial warning and closed my eyes for the transition. I didn't open them until I felt my mother's hand squeeze my shoulder. Even then I waited a moment until I began to feel the sun heating my face, a moment longer and I heard the unmistakable sound of children laughing. Snapping my eyes open to search for the sound, I found my mother's gentle smile instead. She inclined her head to the left and I followed with my eyes until I saw them.
Behind a giant rose bush, sat four children in a circle watching the fifth that stood before them. Two boys and a girl with curly black hair, and a girl with hair half white, half black. A flicker of recognition and doubt distracted me before I looked to Emmaleena standing in the center of the circle before them.
It was easy to recognize Emmaleena now, aged three or four years by the look of it. The lasting image of a broken little girl didn't prepare me for the vibrant entertainer in front of me. She was waving her hands at the ground and whatever she was doing was making the other children squeal with amusement. As we stepped closer and I could finally see what she was doing, I found myself chuckling too.
Emmaleena was using wandless magic to manifest little animals and flowers from wispy forms of magic. It was similar to the manifestation of a patronus but swirling with different colors and a glittery sparkle as the animals danced around the delighted children.
I smiled tenderly at the smile of achievement on the young Emmaleena's face, happy to see her happier than she was the last time. It eased some of the guilt from not being able to help her in any way. I was watching closely enough to see her face fall into a look of anguish and fear before another mask dropped into its place as swiftly as the magic dissipated. This mask was cool, calm, yet defiant.
The children started to whine at the loss of entertainment but I didn't pay attention to them. My head whipped around to see what caused such a chilling display. I saw two preteens approaching, a boy with fine blond hair and a girl with curly black hair. They wore identical snarls as they saw Emmaleena.
,
"Uncle was right about her." The blond boy sneered at his walking companion as they approached. "They should have returned her to the pound they picked her up from."
"No, Lucius. She was bought like swine at an auction." The dark hair girl laughed, her cruelty taking on an eerie quality with her child's voice. She couldn't have been more than eleven. "She needs to serve her purpose one way or another. She either sows the seed of an heir or she should be slaughtered. "
Lucius grinned as he considered the prospective. "I think I could domesticate her. Make her a show sow like the muggles do in the States. Entertainment is the only thing muggles and mud bloods alike are good for, don't you think, Bella?"
The children began to scramble up and stand behind Emmaleena, looking frightened of the new arrivals despite their evident familiarity with them. Emmaleena stood with her hands on her hips, clearly unimpressed by their threats. "What do you want?"
"Uncle Lionel is looking for you. I promised him I'd bring you back. Not that I'd do it in one piece, so unless you'd care to make this interesting, let's go." Lucius leered, looking very much like he'd like if Emmaleena put up a fight.
Emmaleena sucked her teeth, eyes narrowing as she considered her options. It looked like she didn't even realize her hands had balled into shaking fists until the girl with the two toned hair took one between her hands. The girl looked at Emmaleena with a pleading look before her gray eyes darted to the snarling brunette at Lucius' side.
Emmaleena didn't look away from the girl I was refusing to recognize despite her distinguishing features. Emmaleena simply looked into her pleading face as they had a breathless conversation with their eyes. Her fists opened up as her body let go of the tension. Emmaleena gave the girl a nod before turning her attention to the intruders.
While Bellatrix looked downright irate, Lucius was watching the exchange with a curious and calculating expression. Emmaleena schooled her face before she turned back to the other children with a gentle smile.
"Okay, you lot. Let's go see if they've got anything left at the buffet now that Uncle Alphard is through." Emmaleena spoke only to the kids. She ignored Lucius and Bellatrix as the youngest black haired boy grabbed her hand and began to tug her along as the promise of sweets.
"Who are they?" I finally asked.
"You know who they are." Emmaleena said.
"Tell me anyway. Tell me why we're here."
Emmaleena pointed at the little boy disappearing out of sight as he dragged the younger version of herself around the rose bush. "That's Regulus Black. The boy following behind is Sirius Black and the girl is Andromeda Black."
Emmaleena jerked her chin toward the trio that stayed behind. "Bellatrix and Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy."
"Your cousin is Lucius Malfoy?" I asked, nose scrunching up in distaste.
"By marriage, yes, a fact he and Bellatrix just became aware of by way of their snooping." Emmaleena clarified.
"I thought everyone thought Lionel and Ellanora were your parents? Why would they be talking about the fact they're not where anyone could overhear?" I contested.
"Very wise, indeed," Emmaleena hummed her praise, nodding again to the trio. "Listen to this first, then I'll tell you."
"--but Bella, she's my friend! I don't want to–" Narcissa pouted, struggling to get out of her sister's grip.
"No, listen to me, Cissy. You don't know what she really is. You need to stay away from her or else you'll make Mother upset and you know what happens when mother gets upset, don't you?" Bellatrix said everything in a sickly sweet voice that did little to hide the malice simmering beneath the surface.
"Yes, B-bella. I'll stay away." Narcissa vowed in a sad, somber voice unfitting her young face. She looked at the rose bushes with longing as her sister nodded and began to lead her in the opposite direction.
"What did they overhear?" I asked again, unwilling to let my questions go unanswered.
"Why are we here? Today everyone who's anyone is gathered at Malfoy Manor with all the royal 28 pure blood families of Britain to begin discussions of arranged marriages between the emerging generation. Apparently Lionel told Abraxas about the truth about my birth circumstances as a bid to propose marriage between Lucius and myself. Because we weren't really cousins, the bloodline would not be weakened by inbreeding.
"Druella Black argued that it also meant they couldn't be sure of my blood purity. For all Abraxas knew he'd be marrying off his heir to a mudblood who would produce a squib. That was enough for Abraxas to promise the Blacks' his son instead of agreeing to the arrangement Lionel wanted from his brother.
"Druella Black as an insult to injury offered a consultation arrangement between the two of them. Offering the hand of her least liked son, Sirius, if I needed a suitable match. My mother thanked Druella for her offer and encouraged my father to take it. Lionel accepted and said a contract would be drawn on my fifteenth birthday."
"Umm…what the bloody fuck?" I said as Emmaleena finished her story with another shrug.
"Language, missy!" Emmaleena chastised, face stern and unmovable as stone. We stared at each other for a heartbeat until both of us cracked up into laughter. As the giggles died down, Emmaleena offered me her hand, "Oh, I can't believe you're my daughter. I'm so proud of the woman you are."
"Even with my sailors mouth?" I asked, voice too shaky to pass as a joke.
"Even with the worst sailor's mouth in all of Scotland, you'd still be my precious, miracle angel." Emmaleena said softly. Her love encircled me as physically as her arms.
I don't know how long we stood like that, but when I opened my eyes it was to a hazy white film falling over the remembered gardens of my mother's youth.
"We're running out of time, aren't we?" I sighed, noticing how even my mother's features began to blur now.
"I'm afraid so, Andrella, dear. And I know I haven't answered the question of who your father is, but I promise the next time you visit you will leave with your answer." Emmaleena vowed apologetically.
"I know, mum. It's okay. I understand. Next time." I reassured then was struck with the mental image of a beautiful face between my legs, demanding I say his name as I came.
Emmaleena had a horrified grimace on her face as I returned to her, offering a solid head shake through her discomfort. "No. It's not him, thank Merlin."
I laughed at her pun, smiling, falling as I saw Emmaleena's fading form. " I love you, mum. I'll visit you again soon."
"I know, Andrella. I will always be here for you. I love you, too, daughter." Emmaleena said her last words before her mouth disappeared, followed by her nose and her loving eyes.
I closed my own when hers went white, unseeing. I didn't open them even when i felt the fur of the blanket under my thighs and the weight of the journal on top of them. I was content to sit there in the underwater hideaway until I became one with the ocean life I couldn't see but rather felt buzzing around me just on the other side of the enchanted glass. I would have sat like that all night, but the salty taste of my own tears became unbearable.
I didn't open my eyes when I felt the hefty weight of a bottle of Ogden's settle in my lap on top of the journal. I didn't need sight to open the seal or screw open the top. The muscle memory of my fingers brought the bottle to my lips despite their trembling, my throat's muscle memory swallowed down a fifth of the bottle.
With the taste of fire on my tongue from the whisky and the fire burning within from my mother's memories, I summoned my house courage to finally open my eyes.
In the reflection of the glass, I saw two glowing, golden orbs staring back at me. I blinked and the glowing gold fire returned to green. I looked down to see the pages of the notebook had returned to blank, yellowing white. I closed my mother's journal and held it to my chest tightly until I felt its weight disappear within me, protected until it was needed again.
I sipped mindlessly from the bottle as something to occupy my hands. They were still shaking as my eyes darted around the room looking for something to occupy my mind. There wasn't anything to see outside the window at the moment, the waters were dark and still and held no escape for me.
It was my growling stomach that broke the silence in the room, Neviah's amused chuckle that broke the silence.
"Why don't you show her the kitchen, master architect?" Neviah teased her sister.
"Come on, Maladetto," Romana laughed good naturedly, adding, "You're going to love this. Honestly it's some of my best work. Come on, get up all ready. It's right down the hall, just a few steps. Hop to it."
I grumbled in mock annoyance but stood and followed her direction. I followed the curve of the wall and sure enough as I rounded the corner there was a door that all but blended into the sculpted coral. The only feature standing out was the seashell fashioned as a door handle.
"Go on, then. Open it." Romona all but dared me.
Not being one to be scared of opening a door, I gripped the shell and carefully opened to reveal the mystery kitchen inside. To say it was nothing like I was expecting was misleading. I wasn't expecting anything really. That didn't stop me from being surprised at the loud and familiar crack announcing the arrival of a house elf before I could even take in my environment.
"Miss Andrella! It's so good to see you!" The high pitched squeal of welcome was the only warning as a ball of emotion crashed into my legs, knocking me on my arse.
I blinked at the shock, looking over at the house elf scrambling to their feet. As they looked up with their large eyes finally meeting mine, shock was an understatement.
"Dobby?!"
"Oh, Miss Andrella. Dobby is so sorry. Dobby isn't meaning to scare you. Dobby's just so happy to see Miss Andrella alive." The house elf shrieked as he began yanking with all his strength to help me to my feet.
"It's okay, Dobby. I'm just surprised to see you is all. A good surprise but I'm confused. How did you get here and know I was here?" I asked, trying to be as reassuring as possible as I accepted Dobby's assistance.
"Dobby is bound to this safehouse by Miss Emmaleena. It was my honor to know her and now it is Dobby's duty to serve Miss Emmaleena's daughter. It is my honor to serve you even though Dobby is a free elf, Miss Andrella." The elf made the heartfelt speech with tears in his overly large eyes, his little hands clutching his Hogwarts serving robes to his chest.
The sound of my growling stomach was probably the only thing that stopped Dobby from sobbing. With a sniffle, the elf found his resolve. "Let Dobby make you something to eat. Please take a seat Miss Andrella and let Dobby do what he does best." The elf said in a way that left no argument possible. So I took a seat on the bench tucked into the island counter without complaint.
With a single snap of Dobby's fingers, I watched pots and pans, knives, cutting boards, bowls, and mixing spoons rush from opening cabinets to set themselves in a neat fashion on the prep space. Another snap and cabinets closed and an enchanted ice chest opened, vegetables, fruits, meats, eggs, bottles of cream, and juice all soared out before it closed again. One final snap and bags of flour and sugar placed themselves into the lineup. With a hum of approval, Dobby set to work preparing a meal much too large for a single person. Even if that person was me.
It turns out Dobby liked to hum as he worked and did not enjoy talking. As he were making me a meal that already smelt amazing in the first ten minutes of prep, I found it easy to respect his wish for a peaceful mostly-silence. I contented myself with looking into Romona's craft work.
Beautiful was an understatement. Considering it was made in the 1500s, it looked surprisingly modern. Perhaps the natural curve of the coral, the pops of natural colors of shells used as cabinet handles or arranged artfully on the walls, there was a timeless majestical quality to the room. To my delight, the room extended to a formal dining room with a modest round table in the center and four chairs crafted from driftwood. There were two closed doors at opposite sides of the room. They were just barely visible even with me purposely looking out for them.
The table is made of sea glass I found on the shore right as I decided I was going to make this place.. Romona explained her sentimental interior design decisions with a fondness so uncharacteristically emotional I didn't have patience for at the moment. Same as the driftwood. It floated on shore the day I began building
Table's nice and all, but I'm a bit more interested in what's behind the doors. I shrugged at her indignant scoff.
As I opened the door to the left, Romona taunted, Careful what you wish for, Maledetto. Know that this addition is a rarity, completed by the only non-Ismerte that ever was and ever will be permitted into this safe haven created specifically for you.
I rolled my eyes in response, not caring she couldn't see it. She knew I was doing it and why and that's all that mattered to me. With a snap of my own fingers, fire lit at the tips and jumped to fill the torches lining the walls. The laugh that left my lips was hysterical and full bodied. As my eyes danced nervously around the room, I had to concede Romona this round. You got me.
I know. Came Romona's snug reply.
Who would build this for me? I hissed, throat growing dry at the sight of the numerous paddles, switches, whips, ropes, chains, gags, and harnesses affixed to the wall like decorations. But that's not right, is it?
My throat went drier still as the voice from my memory growled a memory that hadn't yet occured, "They're not meant for looking. They're meant for using. Just like that perfect body of yours, my little Feather."
My throat might be dry, but my panties certainly weren't. How could they be? I was standing in a literal sex dungeon apparently built specially for me.
Neviah's snickering had joined her sister's. When she spoke it was in a teasing sing song, "That's the beauty of an older man, Andrella, they give the best…gifts. One of many perks you'll enjoy. Isn't that right, Romona?"
If Romona's lack of teasing or general comment on my hasty departure was uncharacteristic, I didn't care. It allowed me a speedy exit and for that I was grateful. Suddenly having no desire to investigate what was behind door number two quite yet, I returned to the kitchen to check on Dobby's progress.
As I rounded the corner into the dining area, I couldn't help the content moan or the saliva pooling in my mouth. House elf cooking was like nothing else. It had barely been twenty minutes but already Dobby was setting a bowl of soup down on the table that should have taken hours to become that aromatic.
"Soup's on, Miss Andrella!" Dobby said cheerfully, handing me a spoon before turning back to his prep station. Soon the sound of Dobby's humming couldn't hide the sound of me slurring the bowl clean.
If he was offended by my slurping, he did not let me know. Although to be quite fair, he might not have even noticed as he was already busy preparing a roast to go into the oven. I finished my soup quickly and decided against seconds. After all, who knows how many courses Dobby would feel fit to whip up?
I thought about washing my bowl out, but before I could even set a foot down to do so, Dobby snapped his fingers again and it magicked itself clean and put itself back in the cabinet. Once the wood clicked shut, Dobby turned his large eyes to me with a shy determination. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Dobby will come get Miss Andrella when her food is ready."
It was the most clear dismissal I've ever received from anyone other than my professors and I didn't need to be told twice.
I poked around in the dining room a bit but there really wasn't much to see. I suspected I offended Romona with my disinterest in her found materials. It was confirmed when she broke her vow of silence to snort derisively. I rolled my eyes at her and made my way to the door on the right of the room. The only space left unexplored.
I pushed away the images of the sex dungeon with a blush no one was around to see but still embarrassed me. I could only hope this room wasn't as scandalous for my own sake. Truth be told, all this sex focused energy was making me itch beneath my skin.
I steeled my nerves as I gripped the door handle. But it was for nothing. The door wouldn't budge. Not when I threw all my weight into it. Not when I threw all my magic into opening the lock.
"Not yet, my little Feather."
His voice rang clear in my mind, stopping me as I was about to vanish the door from existence entirely. Mindlessly, I scanned the still empty room as if expecting to see him.
"Not yet, but soon."
I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe. The reaction to hearing his voice was immediately overwhelming. I couldn't process it so I willed it away. I can't run from it but I couldn't face it yet.
When I opened my eyes it was to a hesitantly approaching Dobby. I blinked my eyes dry and offered the houself a smile. "Hey, Dobby."
"Hello, Miss Andrella. Your supper is ready." Dobby squeaked as he began leading me back to the kitchen.
"Thank you, Dobby." I nodded affectionately at the house elf. More grateful than I could truly express. It was nice to see a familiar face, especially one that still looked at me as a friend. " I really appreciate you coming to see me."
"Of course, Miss Andrella. Miss Emmaleena and Miss Andrella have always been so kind to Dobby. You are not like the rest of the Malfoys. You are fair and kind people. Friends with Potter. Allies of Albion." Dobby explained loyal as ever as he set a plate before me on the counter. It was filled with roasted venison and vegetables, mash and gravy. It smelled heavenly and filled me with even more love for the elf before me. It distracted me a moment before Dobby's words registered.
"What do you mean Allies of Albion?" I asked.
" Oh goodness. Look at the time, Miss Andrella!" Dobby snapped up suddenly, eyes wide and hands shaky. "Dobby must return to Hogwarts to prepare the nightly feasts! Goodbye, Miss Andrella. I shall return soon."
A grimace and a snap and Dobby was gone. I blinked at the space he had stood for quite a long moment before Neviah's laughter broke my trance. What an odd duck.
I snorted my agreement and tucked into the delicious meal prepared for me. It tasted like home. It tasted of bittersweet memories with the found family I had lost. It tasted better paired with a glass or two of Ogden's.
When dinner was over and all the dishes were clean, there was nothing left to do but explore more. I found a few weeks worth of leftovers of the food Dobby prepared in the chest as well as years worth of magically preserved raw ingredients. I didn't dare return to either door off the dining room, choosing instead to extinguish the lights and leave the area altogether.
I returned to the living area at the end of the hall after being reassured by Romona there weren't anymore hidden rooms. I had seen everything at this point. Still, I spent an hour examining all the titles of the books stored along every surface that wasn't glass. I made a pile of all the ones I wanted to check out first and left them on the table for later.
I spent another hour taking a steaming hot shower that turned into a fog of steamy visions. They altered between George and him. When Elliot's face appeared I turned the water ice cold. I felt my blood boiling and I panicked. I didn't want to turn into a dragon under the sea. I didn't want to destroy this beautiful place.
I heard his voice again.
"Breathe, my feather. Breathe with me. In, out. In, out."
When I began shivering, not from the cold but the effect his voice had on me I turned the water off and raced out of the bathroom. I conjured a robe and all but ran to the living room. I was pulling my mother's journal into existence before I was even fully seated on the couch.
I needed to know about the other names on this list and I needed to know now. I needed to know why I couldn't get his face out of my mind, his voice out of my soul. If all it took was a drop of blood to get my answer, then a drop of blood I would pay. If it took more than on trip down memory lane, then so be it. I would not leave this spot until I had the truth.
With that singular aim, I pricked my finger and signed my name. I closed my eyes and waited.
"Back again so soon, Andrella?" came Emmaleena's amused chuckle. " I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised. You are my daughter, after all."
XXX
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Ello, lovely readers!!!
To my new readers, welcome!
To those who've been around for the ride, I am so excited to be getting to this part of the story! I've been dreaming of introducing you to this place and this storyline for years. I'm so happy you have stuck with me long enough to get here. I hope you like the turn we're about to take!
As always, comments and criticism are always welcome. I write for y'all as much, if not more than I do for myself. I appreciate you all dearly. Until next time!
Ex's Oh's
Audrey V. Sullivan