Let the Darkness Become You

Let the Darkness Become You

*~*

Chapter Five

There is nothing quite like a Gryffindor to get under your skin and stir your blood... it's a talent, I am convinced to this day, they require for admittance. ~Diary of Pansy Parkinson

*~*

The dungeon corridors were dark and quiet as I made my way to the potions classroom. Throughout my three years at Hogwarts I had never done anything to warrant a detention. I had no idea what to expect for the evening and I hated going into any situation I couldn't predict. My only remaining comfort was that Weasley was probably going to be much worse off than myself; a small comfort, but one nonetheless.

Turning into the corridor that would lead me to Snape's office I paused in surprise. Three heads jerked up at my arrival to watch me approach warily. Scowling at the Gryffindors I moved to the wall across from them, leaning against it while trying to appear nonchalant.

Of course Weasley would bring his friends with him! He probably thought Draco might try something. The thought made me smirk with amusement as an uncomfortable silence settled among us. The trio had obviously been talking before I came and were prevented from doing so in my presence. As I stood there impatiently Daphne suddenly came to mind with her persistent lectures on inter-house relationships.

Inspired by a growing sense of mischievousness I said, "You know, Weasley, if you and Granger hadn't been fighting during class your potion wouldn't have developed that milky white film."

Granger eyed me warily, while Potter frowned and Weasley simply looked very - red. I smiled mysteriously at them.

"Like I would take advice from a Slytherin!" the red head snapped angrily.

Chuckling softly to myself, I filed away his reaction for Daphne. She couldn't say I didn't try.

"I happen to have been a Slytherin, Mister Weasley," a dark shadow to our left said.

We all jumped in surprise as Professor Snape emerged from the darkness. He stared down at the Gryffindor imperiously. "And you would do well to follow advice. Miss Parkinson was correct."

I acknowledged his nod of approval with a half smile as he turned back to the Gryffindors, eyes narrowing. "Rest assured that Mister Weasley will be very preoccupied," he informed Granger and Potter. "Unless you would like to join him I suggest that you two get back to your common room."

The two departed with a sympathetic look for Weasley and a glare for me. I waved my fingers at their departure, a smirk brandished across my face. Granger's response was to shoot me what she must perceive as a deadly expression, before turning to whisper something to Potter.

Professor Snape strode to his door briskly and waved his wand at the lock. It swung open with a creak and I hurriedly followed him inside, brushing past Weasley without so much as a glance. I could hear him grumbling angrily to himself as he brought up the rear.

The room inside was dim with only candles lining the walls to give off a shallow light. Vials and books covered every inch of the walls and the room gave off a fairly dank smell. Professor Snape placed himself behind a massive desk and motioned for us to sit.

After doing so he inspected us quietly before making an irritated face. "I have been informed by Professor Sinistra and McGonagall numerous times that we should work on inter-house relationships - thus, your detentions. Your behavior today habored horrendously close to being anti-interhouse cooperation, and Merlin knows we can't have that."

I smirked at his sarcasm while he addressed Weasley, eyes narrowing again. "You will be serving your detention scrubbing the floors in the classroom."

Turning to me he added, "As for you, Parkinson, you shall assist me in a potion I must brew."

Weasley gave me a smug smile, obviously thinking he had come out on the better end of the detention. I gave him a traditional Slytherin glare, but was just as satisfied with my own punishment. Snape had no idea how undetention-like brewing a potion could be for me or perhaps he did and that was the whole point. The idea caused a smile to tug at the corners of my mouth. Leave it to Snape to see that justice was served.

After directing Weasley towards the cleaning supplies Snape led me back through the classroom and his office to another room. It was obviously his private laboratory and I was anxious to see it.

Walking inside I noticed that it was disappointingly normal. The room was smaller than the classroom with a single large table and shelves upon shelves of more vials and books. Behind me Professor Snape cleared his throat and I quickly moved aside to let him pass.

Striding to a bubbling cauldron in the corner he asked, "Do you know anything about a Wolfsbane Potion?"

I nodded. "It is used to contain the transformations of werewolves. It's very complex as well, probably NEWT levels."

He started gathering vials and bowls, his eyes roaming over the shelves. "Good."

Moving forward eagerly, hoping to glimpse what was in the cauldron, I asked, "Is that what you are working on?"

He glanced at me briefly, but very assessingly. "Yes," he answered shortly.

I immediately clamped down on the thousand questions that rose to mind about why he would brew such a potion. Over the years and through my own lessons I had learned that prying tended to result in people closing up. If you wanted answers you never asked questions.

"What do you want me to do?" I wondered, moving to pick up a large apron that hung from the closed door.

Once again I felt his penetrating gaze on me, but when I turned around his back was to me. Bending over the cauldron he motioned absently to the vial and bowls he had prearranged. "I'm out of the dripthorn ingredient, I need you to make me a substitute."

Walking towards the table, I studied the prearranged vials. I was slightly disappointed at the simplicity of what he wanted, but was determined not to let him know. It was rather basic for students to first learn the ingredients, what they react to, and how to substitute them for other ingredients before messing with potions. Or at least the serious ones like wolfsbane. However, the memorization required for such knowledge could be a challenge in itself.

Dripthorn; a small crushed powder drawn from the teeth of podifrongs (small deadly wizarding species of frogs). It was required as a buffer to small amounts of rose oil and acted as a catalyst to speed along the transformation.

After drawing up all the information I could remember on the ingredient I returned to the vials. Hemlock was a good catalyst but reacted with dozens of ingredients, especially a common one - dranthea.

"Is dranthea required in the Wolfsbane Potion?" I asked him, chewing on a nail in thought.

"Yes."

"Damn," I muttered under my breath, looking at the other vials he had provided.

Baronspore, spiderlegs, onionroots and.... prueon? My mind suddenly drew a blank. Prueon was a universal solvent used for just about everything. Depending on when it was mixed in the process of a potion depended on how it worked. It was awfully tricky.

I hesistated, knowing that Snape was waiting to see what I would do.

Prueon mixed with onionroots would give me a useless, not to mention smelly, mixture. It also wasn't prone to spiderlegs, which would deactivate whatever uses it did have and with Baronspore it was absolutely explosive.

My eyes flicked to the hemlock, but it still wouldn't give me anything useful. I jumped when a hand crossed my vision to grab the vial of prueon.

"Prueon can also act as a deactivater to dranthea, balancing out the ingredients," Snape explained, looking down on me.

I sighed with comprehension. "Leaving you free to add in the hemlock to make the transformation quicker and more effective."

He nodded, moving to add the prueon to the cauldron.

I watched him, feeling slightly guilty I hadn't known. "I didn't know that-"

"Nor should you," he cut me off. "You said yourself that Wolfsbane is a NEWT level potion. Of course the hemlock was the most obvious, but most only remember the usage of an ingredient... never its reactants."

Done adding the ingredient he stirred the cauldron three times clockwise and five counterclockwise before turning to look at me. He rested up against the counter across from me.

"You have an exceptional grasp of skill for the art of potion-making," he commented.

I fidgeted slightly. "It is a subject that interests me," I admitted.

"Have you ever considered it as a profession?" His eyes seemed to pierce into me.

Blushing slightly, I nodded.

"Interesting, considering that I have been contemplating using you as an apprentice. You would learn a lot if I make a final decision." Sensing my eagerness, he added, "Apprentices are not allowed until your sixth year, however."

I mulled over the idea silently. If I ever did follow my aspirations to become a Potions Master, apprenticing would help me along the way. Not to mention that it is required for a certain number of years.

"I will think about it, Sir," I answered honestly.

He motioned towards the table. "Good. Now mix me up an anti-reactant to grainillia and I will release you for the evening."

*~*

After my detention classes proceeded as usual except for the new tension in the air whenever I passed one of the Trio. Before, it had always been the traded taunt or glare that accompanied being in rival houses. Now, I found myself constantly involved in their squirmishes with Draco and I was always trading scathing scowls and glares with them in the hallways. Damn Gryffindors.

We had been traveling down the sloping lawns of Hogwarts to our next class, Care of Magical Creatures, when I noticed the Trio huddled together and looking back at me. I scowled at them in irritation before making my way over to where Daphne was talking to that Thomas bloke.

"Oh! I would love to sit for a drawing. Always wanted to really," Daphne exclaimed. "Don't you think it rather boring that they don't move though?"

Thomas smiled, his white teeth glistening out of a dark face. "Nope. Mum says she prefers a drawing who won't argue with her over cooking recipes."

I rolled my eyes.

"Puhlease," I drawled, "you mean you Gryffindors actually do something other than save the world while breaking every rule imaginable?"

Daphne glared at me as Thomas excused himself to join his own housemates.

"That was rude," she declared as I moved to take the boy's place.

I snorted. "So? He was boring anyway. Not to mention you are mixing with the entirely wrong house. If you want to mingle at least spare me the trouble and go talk with the Ravenclaws."

My friend sniffed with disapproval. "It wouldn't hurt for you to try and talk with them," she insisted.

Grinning, I replied, "I already tried and it landed me with detention."

"That can hardly be considered a conversation," she informed me as we neared the hut that served as our new professor's house.

I eyed it doubtfully, wondering if he intended for us to be taught inside that. Thankfully, he herded us behind the hut and towards the Forbidden Forest. Away from the tree line was a fenced paddock that we assembled at.

Draco impatiently pushed his way towards the front, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him, as I settled near Tracey and Blaise.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" Hagrid called. "That's it - make sure yeh can see - now firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-"

"How?" Draco drawled slowly, staring at our professor coldly.

"Eh?" Professor Hagrid asked, obviously as slow as he looked.

"How do we open our books?" Draco repeated, holding up his own copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which was bound with a large rope.

Everyone else seemed to have done something similiar. As for myself, I had bought some of the chains the bookstore supplied.

"Yeh've got ter stroke' em," he replied, as though we should have all known that.

I scowled in frustration.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Draco sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I - I thought they were funny," the man replied uncertainly.

Raising a brow in disbelief, I traded knowing looks with Tracey. This man was suppose to teach us and he was going to take that from Draco? If it had been anybody else Draco would have definitely gotten landed in detention.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" the blonde continued. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Potter sneered over at us from his side of the group.

I noticed that his red headed side kick kept glaring over at me and my mouth quirked with a superior smirk.

"Careful, Potter, there's a dementor behind you-" Draco taunted.

I broke into laughter with the rest of my housemates. Potter's face twitched angrily, but Granger was already pulling him away from us, whispering something to him. Things settled down after that and our lesson continued after everyone had gotten their books laid out submissively.

As much as I hated to admit it the further we got into our lesson the more interesting it became. Professor Hagrid had decided to start us off with a creature called a hippogriff, something far more complex than we should have used in my opinion. But everything was going along pretty well. After Potter had insisted on showing us another one of his miraculous skills, which happened to include hippogriff riding, everyone else was allowed to move forward to greet one of the dozens of creatures there was in the paddock.

"I think their pretty," Tracey murmured, reaching out a tentative hand to touch our hippogriff, Sundawn. The creature preened happily with the praise and let my friend scratch her under the beak, all the while she eyed me shrewdly.

While the hippogriff had acknowledged my bow, the creature still made me feel uneasy. I suspect that Sundawn knew it as well as she took extra care to flaunt her long steel talons. I simply glared at her, but hurriedly agreed with my friend.

"This is definitely the prettiest one out of the bunch," I acknowledged.

Behind me I could hear Draco boasting loudly to Theodore and the others. "This is very easy," he drawled loudly, obviously wanting to take Potter's sideshow down a notch. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it.... I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he demanded of his hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

I heard a scream from behind me and whirled around to see our professor wrestling back a very dangerous looking hippogriff. I felt the blood drain from my face in panic at I noticed a figure splayed across the ground, blood soaking the robes of expensive black gowns.

"I'm dying!" Draco moaned. "I'm dying... it's killed me!"

I could only stand there, frozen in shock and fear. This couldn't be happening...

Sudden shouting broke me out of my trance as my housemates began to shout angrily about our absurd candidate for a professor. It wasn't until I saw that Draco was gone that I noticed there were tears streaming down my cheeks.

"They should fire him straight away!" I demanded loudly, causing the Gryffindors to glare over at me.

"It was Malfoy's fault!" snapped Thomas, his friend Finnigan nodded emphatically from beside him.

I glared at them through blurring eyes before turning to my friends. All of their faces were also drawn and pale as we made our way back towards the castle.

"There was so much blood..." Millicent stated, looking thoroughly shaken. "Do you think he'll be alright?"

"I'm going to go see if he's okay!" I said hurriedly, images of the scene flashing back at Millicent's statement.

I made my way up the marble staircase and to the hospital wing in what seemed like record time. Madam Pomfrey thwarted me from entering.

"He's not well enough to receive visitors yet," she declared sternly.

Looking at her in frustration I pleaded, "Just this once? I need to see for myself that he is okay."

Her lips thinned with disapproval. "I can not allow that. You will just have to take my word that he will be fine once he gets some undisturbed sleep."

As she turned to go back into the hospital wing I glared at her back. I would be willing to bet ten galleons that she was a Gryffindor. Only that damn house had such little compassion for Slytherin students, not to mention their irritating stubbornness.

Feeling very helpless I skipped lunch to return to my dormitory. I huddled on my bed shivering as I kept recalling the memory of Draco's robes covered in blood. I had no idea why the scene had scared me as much as it did and that realization alone scared me.

The door cracked open and I glanced up to look at Millicent. She smiled weakly, before joining me on my bed. "You okay?" she wondered.

"Of course," I admonished, though my voice trembled.

"He's going to be fine, Pansy," she comforted.

Straightening, I pushed back my dark strands of curls and reverted back to the one emotion that felt familiar whenever thinking of my irksome housemate.

"Unfortunately," I muttered with the familiar loathing, "he really did deserve it though. Stupid prat."

I was uncomfortably aware of Millicent watching me closely, her lips twitching with amusement. I glared at her and her face gave way to a grin.

"No doubt, that he deserved it," she agreed, a bit too cheerfully for me. Eyes twinkling, she added, "I never did tell you about the time he tried to charm Dragon when he was five-"

She trailed off at my startled look. "I didn't know you knew him back then," I admitted.

Flashing me another smile, she tossed her hair over a shoulder. "Since we were babes. We grew up together with Theodore and Merlin was that interesting!" she laughed.

I grinned feebly, events settling into place. The more I thought about it the more things began to make sense. Draco and Millicent had always seemed to have something much deeper than what I normally saw with other Slytherins. It was as if they had a long history between them and they could confide in each other.

Come to think about it, Draco never flirted or argued with Millicent like he did with me or the other witches. In fact, it was almost as if they had deep respect for each other and Theodore was always nearby when they were together. As if they reverted back to their old friendship even now.

Theodore had even mentioned something about it sometime during our second year. Surprised as I was, I couldn't help also feeling a little jealous. I had thought that Millicent's strong friendship was something I had that no one else did besides Theodore. Apparently, I was wrong.

"Are you still good friends?" I wondered.

She smiled. "Yes," she answered, "but Draco's not any good for girl talk. Although he does know the most amazing stuff about hair products..."

Laughing, we spent the rest of our afternoon speculating over Draco's preferred hair products.

*~*

We were finally allowed to go see Draco two days after the incident and we all filed into the hospital room, loaded with a combination of sweets and homework. He was propped up in one of the hospital beds reading when we came in and I worriedly took in his condition. His injured arm was covered with thick bandages and propped up in a sling. While he grinned at our arrival, I noticed the paleness of his face and how gingerly he moved when he reached out to accept a parsel from Honeydukes.

"Bloody nurse has been starving me with all this healthy shit," he muttered irritably, popping a chocoball in his mouth and sighing with bliss.

"Have they made a decision about that oaf yet?" Theodore asked, perching on a nearby bed that was empty.

Draco scowled. "Father sent an owl that Dumbledore some how got that horrible excuse for a teacher off the hook. He did get an execution date set for that creature however," he said, leaning back with a smug smirk.

"How have you been?" Millicent wondered, looking at the bandaged arm skeptically. "They wouldn't let us in, though Pansy came every day."

My friend smiled innocently at me as I gave her a heated glare. I felt Draco's eyes searching out my own in our small crowd and I turned to meet his gaze with dread. Instead of the expected mockery, I read surprise in his gray eyes, as well as something else I couldn't read. Suddenly feeling very foolish, I looked down, determined to ignore the blush I could feel creeping over my face.

Silence hung awkwardly in the air, until Tracey cleared her throat. "They shouldn't let that man off that easily. He almost got you killed!" she insisted.

Relieved, I listened to the angry conversation that followed focused mainly on the unfairness of Dumbledore. I started to relax as Draco joined in with a vengeance, declaring that his father was going to try to reach some of his contacts. My worries over the past two days suddenly evaporated as the Draco I knew so well started making fun of the Gryffindors, while complaining loudly about his arm so that Tracey and Daphne cooed with worry over him.

I rolled my eyes as Daphne helped him readjust his pillows. Catching the movement, he met my eyes with a silent shared look of amusement before turning back towards Daphne.

"It isn't all that bad really. It could have been worse had I not known what to do in precisely that situation. You should never move around a lot and..." he entertained us for the rest of the evening with his grand illustrations, playing up to his audience with a spark of interest that Draco thrived on.

*~*

The weeks after Draco's incident flew by and the Christmas holidays were arriving quickly. Life had pretty much returned to normal around the Slytherin common room and many of the days before Christmas break were spent in frantic shopping at Hogsmeade.

Millicent and Theodore had opted to spend the day double dating with Daphne and Nathan. Therefore, I spent the weekend visit tracking around the unique wizarding town with Blaise and Tracey in tow. Spying our other four housemates making their way into the Three Broomsticks I smiled at Blaise wickedly.

"Relieved?" I asked, noticing him watching Daphne and Nathan warily.

I started to giggle helplessly, as he narrowed his eyes. "You knew!" he accused. "You could have fought her off for me."

"But it was so fun to watch you squirm," I protested, still chuckling.

"You're a cruel girl," he stated.

I smirked. "Thank you."

A small grin spread across his face as Tracey stepped out of the nearest bookstore. Joining us, she eyed our merry faces questioningly.

"Where did you two want to go next?" she wondered.

Blaise and I looked at each other, simultaneously saying, "Potions."

Smiling she said, "I don't think they have just a potions store. Maybe Zonko's?"

I looked over at the joke shop skeptically. "Probably not. Oh well, if nothing else we can return to school and have the common room to ourselves for a bit?"

Agreeing, the three of us immediately set out for it, trudging through the snow. As silence settled between us, my thoughts were drawn back towards my tall friend beside me.

"I never understood why you didn't take Daphne up on her offer," I admitted, finally giving into a question that had been plaguing me.

He shrugged. "Not my type."

Tracey looked over from my other side. "Oh? Perhaps a book smart Ravenclaw for you then. I swear that the Sorting Hat misplaced you."

It was a taunting we constantly, but fondly, teased him with. He grinned over at her mysteriously. Thinking of a certain Ravenclaw my mirth faded.

"Just as long as you steer clear of Turpin," I warned.

Draco and Turpin had finally made their romance official two weeks after Draco's injury. Although official for a Slytherin wasn't much. It basically just acknowledged certain privileges with a person in public that you wouldn't with another. Slytherins never really dated.

My friends drew me out of my dour thoughts with questions of Esteria. All of them had been very interested about the castle that had become my new home.

"It sounds wonderful," Tracey sighed as we made our way to the dungeons. "I hope I can see it one day."

"I'm sure you will," I assured her. "Grandmother said something about allowing friends over during the summers. I'll have to remind her of it."

I frowned as we caught sight of Draco sauntering down a corridor up ahead. I had a feeling he was seeking his newest interest - Turpin.

Sniffing with disgust, I followed my two friends down into the dungeons. "Either of you up for a game of Exploding Snap?" I inquired.

*~*

On the morning that I was to leave for Esteria Nightshade flew into the Great Hall. The rays of sunlight glinted off her dark feathers as she landed on the breakfast table gracefully. She greeted me happily, nipping at my fingers lightly to untie the letter she carried. I steadied her onto my shoulder, a favorite perch of hers, before turning my attention to the letter.

Pansy,

I hope that you are well when this reaches you. I know that I haven't owled as much as I promised, but I have been busy accustoming myself to Bairlyn (Neil's estate). It is much more demanding than I first thought. The work is good for me, however. Mother and Father have accepted our invitation to spend Christmas here this year. Yes... it was hard to convince Mother that a ball could be held here just as well as at home. Neil and I are also extending the invitation to you, although I understand that you are to spend the holidays with Grandmother. Please feel no guilt for not being able to accept my invitation, I was merely expressing that we would be delighted to have you. Mother has started to accept your decision, truly. She sees that it is the best choice you could have made. I have already owled your gifts to Esteria. I would love for us to meet in Diagon Alley, possibly, while you are on holiday. Let me know if you would like to. Until then...

Your sister,

Zella Nicole Lestrange

While I had been feeling some reserves about spending the holidays at Esteria, my worries were completely banished with Zella's letter. I had never truly spent the holiday away from my parents or not preparing for some grand ball. The fact that they were spending the holiday at Neil's only lessened my guilt about not spending Christmas with them. If there was one place that I had no desire to spend a family event it had to be at Bairlyn. I scowled at the thought and concentrated on my breakfast once more.

"Have a good Christmas!" Blaise called after me as we parted in Hogsmeade later that morning.

I grinned at him. "You too," I replied.

I watched him as he moved across the crowded platform at Hogsmeade to shake hands with an older man he closely resembled... his grandfather. I would have liked to stay longer to observe the man, but Grandmother suddenly appeared before me as if from thin air.

Blinking at her in surprise, I watched as she took me in before breaking into a gruff smile. "Hello, dear," she said, "I see that you are pretty much the same as you left."

Finally getting over my surprise, I moved forward to give her a peck on the cheek in greeting. "I was expecting, Heather," I admitted.

Grandmother chuckled. "No, the poor dear is running about the manor like a lost chick. She's in a panic about preparing the rooms and all for the guests."

"Guests?" I repeated blankly. Hadn't Grandmother said that she never held balls?

Smirking, she answered, "Why of course. You didn't think that Parkinsons were the only family I had, did you? There is the entire Roseguard side to consider."

I stared at her.

She frowned slightly in irritation over my lapse of control. "Stop gaping like that Pansy, you look like a flobberworm. Besides, we have some shopping to do."

With that she strutted past me and towards the main street of Hogsmeade. Sighing, I followed after her hurriedly. For some reason I felt as if I should have expected a surprise from Grandmother. Honestly, the woman was completely unpredictable!

*~*

Despite the fact that there was to be no ball for Christmas Esteria was very preoccupied in the days before my relatives arrival. Servants worked everywhere as they prepared the wings for guests, cleaned out all of the rooms, which was a feat in itself, and completed every task to perfection. By the time they were done the manor was almost beyond recognition. The draftier rooms that were seldom used had been aired out and cleaned until the furniture gleamed and crystal glistened. Large floral arrays accompanied all the rooms, while holly and garland hung from every banister or ceiling. The largest Christmas tree I had ever seen in my life was chosen for the main parlor and was in its full magnificence with ribbons, golden tassels, and charmed candles.

The merriment in the air seemed to have awoken a life in Esteria; its rooms were in use once more, the corridors lighted and the wings prepared. Sometimes it seemed so prominent that I swear I could catch the whisper of music in the abandoned ballroom, or the hint of laughter down the corridors late at night.

I hardly had time for speculation, however, for I was very busy as well. Grandmother had insisted that I help with the preparations and most of my days were spent surveying rooms and assisting Grandmother in all the major planned events. I suspected that she was trying to test me with greater responsibility and I was determined to make her unable to criticize anything I did. She seemed amused at my increased efforts and went out of her way to show up at the most unexpected times.

"This room seems very ancient, doesn't it?" I commented absently some three days after my arrival.

Grandmother had left me an entire corridor to supervise and I had spent most of the morning and afternoon working away with Heather. We had finally made our way towards the end of the hallway and were in one of the sitting rooms.

"It's an older part of the mansion," Heather admitted, directing one of the maids towards a window that had been neglected.

The sitting room was very masculine in my opinion, with leather chairs and a dark mahogany undertone to all the furniture. A small collection of books sat along one wall and a large shield hung above the fire place. I studied its faded emblem with interest.

"Is there an older part?" I asked her, turning to watch as she inspected the maid with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, yes," she answered with a smile. "We're closer to the south wing, as well. Whenever the missus renovated years ago she kept everything the same on this side."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, really. She claimed that Esteria wouldn't have her change it. This was your many-great grandda's side of the estate you know. Only masters of the manor reside here."

I raised a surprised brow. "The manor didn't let her change it?"

"I told you I didn't know rightly," she replied. "We don't go in the south wing."

"No one?" I asked skeptically, raising a brow. "Why not?"

"Well the house elves do," she admitted with a sigh, "but no one else. I think it has something to do with storage and family heirlooms. Your grandmother-"

"Done already?"

Heather and I both jumped in surprise, turning to see my grandmother by the doorway and eyeing the housemistress shrewdly. I was surprised to see the young witch blush deeply. "Yes, maam," Heather replied, ducking her head hastily. "Miss Parkinson has been a great help. She has your taste for the details."

"Does she?" Grandmother wondered, moving her dark eyes to look at me with a small smile. "That's surprising indeed. Perhaps lessons haven't been a total waste, heh Pansy?"

"Perhaps not," I answered shortly, annoyed at the sudden interruption. For some reason I had the feeling that I had been about to stumble upon something important.

"Well come on then, girl. If you're done here we need to start practicing."

Puzzled, I followed her out of the room and matched my pace to her much slower one as she leaned heavily on her cane. "Are you all right?" I wondered, unaccustomed to seeing her use the walking stick so much.

"Stairs," she grunted gruffly, "the maids have been bustling about in a panic and kept forgetting things. I had to constantly go back and fetch them to finish. At least the viewing rooms are decent now."

I nodded at her explanation, mind elsewhere. "What are we going to practice?"

Smirking, she answered, "The family tree of course."

"Oh," I replied glumly, sensing that the next few hours were going to be tedious indeed.

By dinner time I was completely exhausting from my sudden influx of family knowledge and could barely stay awake through the meal. Grandmother seemed to be in a particularly torturous mood and insisted on drilling me through the family facts the entire time.

"Who did my sister Olivia marry?" she asked, sipping her tea daintily.

Still overwhelmed at the enormous amount of information that had been forced on me that afternoon I paused in the process of cutting up my kidney steak.

"Uncle Jarris?" I answered hesitantly.

Grandmother glared across the table at me. "No, that was your Aunt Valerie. Your Aunt Olivia married Harold Winston. Damn it, Pansy, you need to get this right!"

"I'm trying!" I retorted. "It doesn't help that you only told me this all this afternoon. I have never even heard of these people."

"Well that doesn't surprise me," she snapped, harsher than usual. "Your father seems to have brought you up without any knowledge of your heritage. Don't blame me for his mistakes!"

I glowered darkly at her. "Maybe there was a reason Father left this side of the family out. They obviously haven't gone out of their way to contact him over the years."

She snorted. "And I doubt that they ever will. These are Superior Houses, Pansy. I don't know what it is going to take to get you to understand that! They just don't acknowledge anyone and you have a lot of work ahead of you to ensure that you keep this estate once I'm gone."

"They can't take it away if you will it to me," I pointed out crossly.

Grandmother laughed cryptically. "Of course they can't. But that doesn't mean you will have any power among them. You will simply be the little bug they can squash on a whim. What I am teaching you is vital. I am finally introducing you to some real society here. They may be family to you, but that doesn't make them any less brutal." Her beady black eyes sought out my own before she added, "And to them, you are merely a bug. Depending on how you conduct yourself will determine if you will ever be able to carry off the heritage given to you," sparing me a knowing smirk she added, "even if it is flawed."

"Why do you have to keep bringing that up?" I demanded with frustration. The subject of my mother was always an issue between us.

"Do you really not know?" she asked with was seemed like genuine curiosity.

At my blank look she shook her head, muttering under her breath. "Your mother is always going to be an issue among the Houses. You might as well get used to it now because you will be hearing it much more often."

"At least she's a pureblood," I spat. "Even You-Know-Who was a half breed."

A tense silence fell among us as I glared over at the older woman.

"And what do you think you know of the Dark Lord, Pansy?" she asked slowly, her eyes intent upon my face. "You are a mere girl of thirteen."

"Well he was, wasn't he?" I insisted, shifting uncomfortably at the dark look in my grandmother's face.

"True enough," she replied. "But look at all the power he held despite that. Do you remember what was in the diary about the taint?"

"Yes," I answered, "it was the Dark Arts in ancient times. The Tempted were wielders of it until they became Death Eaters."

She smirked at me. "The Tempted aren't all Death Eaters, my dear. It is true that some are, but the Tempted are all ancestors to those in the Superior Houses. We admire those who have great powers."

"So You-Know-Who was in the Superior Houses?" I inquired.

"No," she corrected, "but many supported him from the Houses. He had the power to overcome all, even more so than Grindelwald who was a Superior House."

"So why him and not the Houflins?" I asked. "My mother's people-"

"Fool of a girl!" Grandmother interrupted me with exasperation. Glaring at me she added, "You have no idea what we are about. I must have been addled to assume that I could ever convert you."

Leaning across the table, face intent, she sneered, "The Houflins will never even compare to the Houses you speak of. Nothing has ever compared with them. You think you know so much about what you meddle in but you haven't even hit the tip of the iceberg yet."

We finished the rest of the meal in silence and when I went to bed that night my dreams were haunted with images of a vast darkness so encompassing I feared I would drown in it.

*~*

To my relief, Grandmother didn't mention anything about dinner the next day. Despite our conversation and Grandmother's numerous misgivings I felt prepared that afternoon as the first of our relatives arrived. I had been dressed formally in long blue robes with only my necklace for decoration. I waited with Grandmother in the Entrance Hall as the servants went out to help unload the carriages.

I straightened self-conciously as the butler led in a very regal looking couple who appeared to be around my parents' ages.

"Janet," Grandmother smiled in greeting, holding out her hands as the woman glided forward.

Mention of the name immediately helped me to place the witch in my new category of family information. She was my second cousin, Janet Olmier and married to Franc Olmier who was a chair member for the International Confederation of Wizards.

I studied my cousin as she merrily greeted Grandmother with a brief peck on the cheek, her rosy lips puckered prettily. Janet Olmier looked around my father's age and while she wasn't a beauty her looks bordered more on being elegantly handsome. She resembled Grandmother in the high cheekbones and strong jaw. Her sleek dark brown hair was pulled back into an elaborate style and diamonds glittered from her hands and neck.

The man who was obviously her husband hung back slightly. He was an older appearing man with grey hair that was peppered with black. His face appeared very harsh and he was squarely built, though slightly shorter than his wife. They both were expensively garbed and exuded a presence of importance that overwhelmed.

When the witch finally pulled back and noticed me at Grandmother's side I gave her a deep curtsy. Her dark eyes narrowed at my greeting as she swept them over me shrewdly.

"Is this your pet, Aunt?" she inquired lightly. "Mother told me that you took in the poor dear for an heir. Houflin descent, if I heard right?"

"The whole family knows of my son's indescretion, Janet," Grandmother replied dryly. "I needn't repeat it."

"Of course," Janet said quickly. "I was merely checking my facts." Sparing me another brief glance she added, "At least my cousin had the decency to marry a pureblood."

I couldn't believe the woman's audacity to speak so rudely of me without even acknowledging my presence. Barely containing my anger, I gave her a tight lipped smile. "How decent of you to remember my mother, Cousin Janet," I stated sweetly, though my voice dripped with sarcasm. "I will give Father your regards the next time I see him."

She glared at me sourly as I dipped into another deep curtsy.

"So the kitten has a tongue," she commented acidly. "You better beware Aunt. Victor has ruined this one in his ridiculous indulgences to his wife's traditions."

Laughter interrupted whatever Grandmother had been about to say and Franc Olmier came up to his wife's side to give me an appraising grin. "Play nicely, Janet. The girl's obviously got some brains in her if she's not the most tactful little thing."

I dipped into another curtsy at his rather vague acknowledgement to me and he nodded in approval. "I like her," he declared, turning towards Grandmother to kiss her hand.

Grandmother gave me a significant look before replying, "She's coming along, if not as quickly as I would like."

Sniffing with doubt, Janet turned away from me. "Mother decided to come over with Adam and his brood," she gave another disapproving sniff. "My brother has been treating her to their vacation manor in Italy."

Nodding, Grandmother said, "Heather will show you to your rooms if you'd like to rest from your trip." As if on cue the head maid appeared from no where, uniform immaculant as she swept into a deep curtsy.

"That will do," Janet decided, giving me another glare before taking her husband's arm and proceeding up the stairs.

Once the couple had disappeared, Grandmother turned towards me with a raised brow. "That wasn't quite what I meant by being polite," she admonished, though I caught a glimmer of amusement in her eye.

"She started it," I insisted.

"It could have been worse," she admitted. "You weren't technically rude because Janet did start it. It's good that Franc likes you even though he's a politician. He would like anyone who so sweetly and politely puts a person in their place."

"I gathered that."

"Did you?" she asked, eyeing me doubtfully. "Well don't think you can get away with it towards everyone. You still have a lot to learn about the politics of this family."

After that first trial my introductions with the rest of the family went rather smoothly. While many of them showed the same scorn and skeptism as Janet, there were some who showed traces of interest and curiosity as well. Mostly they received me politely when introduced and ignored me afterwards.

Esteria seemed strange in the days to come as her rooms were crowded with people and activities, for my grandmother had many relations. Of her four sisters there were still two remaining, and then there were the numerous children they had, followed by the grandchildren who ranged from ages fifteen to twenty-two. The youngest of my third cousins, Georgina, seemed particularly curious about me and was my companion for most of the holiday.

"These woods make me nervous," she commented one morning.

I had never been to the gardens before and found them very mysterious in the confines of crumbling stone walls and fragmented walkways. Most of the foliage was hidden beneath the thick confines of snow and I had been imagining what it looked like in the bloom of spring. Turning to my older cousin, I saw that we had passed by the shadows of the nearest trees.

"I've never been in them," I admitted. "I read somewhere that they have magical creatures as well as ordinary ones."

Shivering, she replied, "It wouldn't surprise me. They seem evil."

"They are different from the forest at my school," I confided. "This one seems more haunted."

"You go to Hogwarts," she commented, turning toward me with interest. When I nodded she asked, "What year are you?"

"Third," I informed her. "You?"

"Fifth," she declared, tossing her blonde hair over a shoulder. "I'm transferring to Durmstrang this summer."

I followed her down one of the snow covered pathways. "Why?"

She looked over her shoulder in surprise before slipping into a smug smirk. "I forget that you are not superior bred."

I scowled at her darkly. "What does that mean?"

Shrugging, she headed towards the manor. "Nothing, but if you were truly a Superior House heir you would know that the Dark Arts are important. Only Durmstrang offers the best skills in Dark Magic."

"Oh," I replied for lack of anything else to say.

"Xavier went to Hogwarts," she added after a brief silence, as if that fact alone was my school's only redeemable trait.

She often talked about our older cousin, Xavier, who I had yet to meet. He hadn't shown up so far for the holidays due to business, but was much discussed among the family. In the short time I had known these relations I quickly gathered that he was a favorite among the grandchildren. For some odd reason he reminded me a lot of Neil and I had a suspicion that I would like him just as much as the rest of the family; which wasn't saying a lot.

*~*

I frowned at the ancient cards Grandmother had given us to entertain ourselves for the evening. It appeared as if I was about to lose for the third time in our game of Wizard's Duel.

Earlier in the afternoon the youngest of the grandchildren had been conducted to a corner of the parlour to stay occupied as the adults conversed among themselves. We had been emerged in the game for over an hour as the rest of my relations caught up with each other's lives, their laughter occasionally carrying over to our corner.

The large group of adults were currently draped over various bits of furniture, each with a glass of wine and picking from a table of refreshments. I noticed that the two oldest of the grandchildren, twenty year old Richard and an older Kirsten, had joined them.

"Duel," Charles suddenly exclaimed, causing me to watch with dismay as he engaged my centaur in a duel.

Grinning confidently, the sixteen year old asked, "Do you challenge?"

I contemplated my cards carefully before frowning. "I withdraw."

Tossing my cards down, I watched bored as he continued to duel with Marlene. Chin in hand, I realized that Georgina was going to win; she had subtly slipped a knight behind her sorceror. Catching my eye she winked and shared a smile with me. Out of all my relations she was the only one that I actually considered halfway decent.

"Oh!" Marlene gasped suddenly, looking behind us with round eyes.

Whirling around, I stared as a young man stepped out of now green flames to enter the family parlour. Silence fell among the room as he straightened, brushing off his robes before looking up with a charming smile.

"Happy Christmas everyone!"

I studied him speculatively as everyone moved to greet him at once. Out of all the relatives I had been drilled on there was only one person missing and from everyone's sudden enthusiasm there was no doubt who the stranger was, Xavier Roseguard and head to the Roseguard inheritance.

He was fairly tall, allowing me brief glimpses of him over everyone's heads as they each shifted to greet him. What glimpses I did get showed an aristocratic face that was rather harsh, but softened by his charming smile. Dark blonde hair curled lightly across his forehead and around the nape of his neck. He seemed very slim and lithe, giving the appearance of being fragile but powerful in his fluid movements.

I watched intently as he greeted those around him. Grandmother had explained to me numerous times that those in "high" society only traveled by carriage and frowned on those that Apparated or Flooed, yet none of the adults around Xavier seemed disapproving. Many of them appeared extremely forgiving of the lapse in manners and greeted him with smiles and handshakes.

As the crowd around him began to thin his cousins moved forward eagerly. He shook Charles hand with a seriousness that showed he understood the younger boy's reverence. He tugged on Georgina's soft tendrils with affection and gave Marlene a light kiss on the hand. He worked through them with a subtleness and ease that I could only marvel at.

Sensing a presence beside me I turned to look at Grandmother. "He's something else isn't he?" she asked, understanding my admiration.

"They have no idea how enraptured of him they are," I replied.

She laughed lightly. "Some of them do, but can't resist it. I've simply come to accept it. He was a natural born leader and can get anyone to follow him." Eyeing me purposefully, she added, "You've shown glimpses of it yourself."

Studying my newest cousin, I snorted. "Not like that," I declared, standing as the wizard headed our direction.

"Aunt Vicky," he laughed, swooping down from his imposing height to plant a kiss on my grandmother's cheek.

I was amazed at the liberty he took with the nickname. Although they were family it did not take long to pick up on the leniances of this household and as far as I knew they barely extended beyond formalities. Grandmother merely cracked a large grin, the most sincere I had ever seen her. Absurdly, I began to feel jealous at how ridiculously easy Xavier had gotten into her good graces.

Finally acknowledging me Xavier winked and held out a hand. "And this must be the exalted Miss Parkinson I've heard so much of."

Instead of allowing him to simply raise my hand in greeting I shook his own firmly, causing his grin to widen in surprise.

"Probably not as much as yourself," I replied with a small smile.

Grandmother frowned at my shift in manners, but Xavier merely laughed. "Ah, now I remember what I miss so much about Uncle Victor; that unforgettable Parkinson brusque!"

My smile widened slightly and I watched him with altered interest as the adults herded him back to their side of the parlour. For all that he was everything I had expected from a superior house heir - powerful, charming, handsome - there was something that set him apart; something so slight that I could barely put my finger on it.

"Rebellious," Grandmother abruptly said.

I had almost completely forgotten she was there in my interest with Xavier and I turned towards her in surprise. At my confused look she chuckled. "The word you are looking for is rebellious," she explained.

I followed her gaze back to the young wizard who sat among the adults with ease and confidence. "That is probably the most rebellious young man you will ever meet."

"I don't understand," I admitted. "They follow him so blithely."

She frowned at me. "You see in black and white too much, Pansy. Extend out a little and take notes." She indicated towards my cousin. "Right there is a master at the art of politics and probably one of the most dangerous men you will ever meet."

I couldn't help but laugh ignorantly. Compared to the dark look I had seen so often in my brother-in-law's eyes, Xavier was a lamb in a lions den. Grandmother sighed. "Never estimate the savior, my dear. Dangerous people come in all shapes and sizes and the one who has the power to persuade a crowd is all the more powerful than the one who has to force one. Voldemort didn't gather his followers by breaking them with his power. He gathered them through the sweet seduction of persuasion. In my experience that is the most powerful magic of all."

I stared after her as she walked away, amazed at her words just as much as I was by the fact that she had said the dark wizard's name. Her advice could not be easily forgotten, however, and when Georgina beckoned me to begin another Wizard's Duel I merely shook my head. I had a lot to think about.

*~*

In the days that Xavier stayed with us until Christmas I spent a surprising amount of time in his presence. The dislike that I had been so certain I would feel evaporated after our first meeting and by the third day I felt as if I had known him years. I could only sit back and marvel at his sheer audacity while laughing at his absurdly successful "rebellions."

"Grandmother warned me about you," I informed him over a game of chess. Our other cousins had taken up a round of Exploding Snap in the corner and after learning that I was a chess player Xavier had insisted on a game. We had retreated to the northern viewing rooms for quiet and privacy. The woods outside were gilded in gold from a setting sun as its remaining rays spread across the walls of our room.

He smiled lazily, moving a knight forward. "Really?" he asked in amusement. "And what did she warn you about?"

I contemplated his move for a moment, feeling his hazel eyes watching me with expectance before I moved forward a seemingly insignificant pawn. "She said that you were dangerous," I admitted, frowning at the unexpected move of his king.

"Do you think so?"

I looked up from the board to find his face suddenly very serious. Studying him, I answered honestly, "I laughed at her at first, but now I'm not so sure. I've been working at "politics" for years and still stumble through it. Yet, you seem so..." I waved my hands to express my loss for words and instead returned back to the game.

"You get away with things I would never dream of," I said finally, having pinpointed my ideas.

I expected him to laugh as he always did whenever joking with the adults about his rebellious streak. Instead, he soberly studied the board.

"How old are you, Pansy?"

I blinked. "What?" I asked, unsettled by the change in conversation.

He smiled slightly, a brief tilt of the right side of his expressive lips. "How old are you?"

"Thirteen," I answered.

"Do you know what normal thirteen year olds do? They have fun, go shopping, play Quidditch, fail at things, have friends not alliances, make mistakes and have a life."

"And the point?" I demanded, frustrated at my utter lack of comprehension.

"The point is that have you ever not had lessons? Not had politics? Have you ever had a childhood?"

I stared at him speechless, at a loss for feelings I did not know how to express. Xavier merely leaned back with a smug smile. "Exactly," he agreed, as if my silence had been answer enough. "Superior Houses seem to expect for thirteen - no scratch that - for ten year old kids to be adults. It doesn't happen that way."

"But-" I stammered, searching for anything to debate with.

He reached out and moved his bishop. "Checkmate," he stated.

I stared at him in a combination of shock from his sudden explanation into Superior society and by the fact that I had not been beaten at chess in almost two years.

Smiling kindly, he said, "I'm considered rebellious because I had a life, Pansy. I fought with my parents, had true friends, and still conformed to their corrupted and horribly out of date politics. The problem with the superiors is that they are all composed of the same bloodlines, same people, and same ideas. They mold their children into almost the exact replicas of themselves and can't move forward because of it. Hell, we're probably even all related in some distant way."

I felt as if a sudden door into my life had been rudely thrown open into remarkably perfect clarity. "But they still follow you. My father married - "

"Ah," he held up a hand, "there is a difference in rebellion and refusal. I have a feeling that dear old Uncle Vic was fed up with the superiors. Not to mention that they had him paired up to either a lioness or a simpleton. There's a line that can be walked and that is where you will find the truly great wizards." Sensing my bewilderment he leaned forward, resting his forearms across our table. "Look... you're in Slytherin and so was I. Slytherins and Gryffindors don't hate each other because they're different. They hate each other because the students before us hated each other. The first thing I heard when I became a Slytherin was that the Gryffies were all bark and no bite with big dunderheaded Quidditch captains and genetically inherited egos."

My lips quirked with amusement at the familiar tales of our rival house. Xavier chuckled at my expression and continued, "In truth you come to realize things aren't always as they appear. I learned a lot at Hogwarts and especially in Slytherin. That was my first test at politics and if I screwed up there it was no big deal." He grinned. "Screw up at a Superior convention and they'll eat you alive. Experiment a little, live a lot, and quit trying to grow up when all these adults want you to. You'll end up learning a lot. Find out how your enemies work and you'll see how to conquer it."

As he got up to leave I could only stare at him in amazement. For seven years I had been trying to perfect my lessons to instinct and in an instant he had explained it all like nothing and proceeded to tell me how these "perfect" ideals were flawed. I felt as if I had suddenly been handed the secret to life with no idea what to do with it. Live your life is what he had basically told me and suddenly I had no idea how to go about it.