Let the Darkness Become You

Let the Darkness Become You

*~*

Chapter Eight

Time always seems prone to passing in a blur when you dread the nearing of something. My sister's marriage to Neil Lestrange could easily be defined as something I dreaded, an exception since the rest of the family was elated.

A wedding date had been set for the last weekend of August, which resulted in two hundred wedding invitations being sent out to privileged guests. What followed was a list of carefully crafted wedding preparations, created by Zella.

Decorators and assistants had been milling around the manor since my return home; caterers met with Zella over last minute decisions, musicians performed for Mother's approval, and servants prepared accommodations for extended stays after the wedding.

Nowhere I went was private, as all of my favorite sanctuaries were intruded on by workers and assistants. The gardens were being replanted, the ballroom remodeled, the grounds kept up and the sitting rooms re-accommodated. It wasn't even my second week home from school and I was already irritated at my lack of solitude. There were people everywhere!

The only true uninterrupted time I could get to myself was in the family library. It wasn't currently going under any remodeling, and was set away from the constant constructing spells of the architects.

I was retreating to my new hideout one day when I discovered with surprise that it was already inhabited. Father and Mother sat upon one of the many couches in the room, both of them resplendent in matching shades of blue and black robes. Father was nodding thoughtfully to himself, as Mother's face crinkled into the barest hint of a scowl.

In front of them sat another person, probably another decorator, in a high backed chair with its back to me.

My parents looked up as I entered. I bobbed a respectful curtsy. "I'm sorry," I began. "I didn't realize there-"

My apology abruptly caught in my throat as the guest turned and two piercing eyes stared back at me appraisingly. It had been three years, at least, since I was last encompassed in those fathomless eyes. Age had done nothing to lessen the effect of my grandmother's gaze, however, and I immediately sunk into another curtsy.

"So this is the youngest," she stated.

Looking up I saw that she was assessing me shrewdly. My father's mother had always been a formidable woman. Victoria Roseguard-Parkinson had successfully run the family household after Grandfather's death, and continued to do so.

Her commanding presence instantly demanded obedience and reverence, causing many to cower before her. Our household was always in a state of chaos the week before she came to visit, and the few times that she did, Zella and I had stayed out of her way unless summoned.

Even though it was Grandmother's blessing that had allowed my parents' marriage, Mother did not get along with her. Something about "old blood" and an insult to my mother's name. It was not odd that even now, Mother sat tensely beside Father, her expression taut.

"Come here, Pansy," Father commanded.

I reluctantly moved forward. Every memory I had ever had of Grandmother was unpleasant. The woman controlled everything around her. It was the same ensnaring grasp I had occasionally felt restricted by among my parents, but hers was unlike anything I had ever felt. It intimidated me.

Moving to my parents' side, I studied the elder woman. The chair she had chosen to sit in was huge and should have easily devoured her small frame, but her presence made it seem to fit. She sat regally, with her shoulders pushed back and chin lifted. Her hair was amazingly still long and thick, falling in a silver cascade over one shoulder. Black eyes stared out of an aging face that showed signs of past beauty; high cheekbones, delicate jaw line, and amazingly enough - my nose!

Years had given her more than wrinkles and replaced beauty with elegance. Meeting that encompassing stare once more, I immediately looked down at my hands.

"How old are you now, child?"

"Thirteen in a week," I informed her.

"Stop mumbling and look up," she snapped.

Startled, I looked at her in surprise. "Thirteen, " I repeated firmly.

Looking me over once more, she sniffed. "Not much to look at, are you?"

Father laughed from my side. "What did you expect, Mother? She is still only a child."

"Child!" she said sharply. "I was engaged at her age! My sister was married by then!"

Mother shifted irritably from her tense perch. "Yes, well times aren't as strict as they use to be."

Grandmother waved a hand dismissively. "We won't go there today, will we, Penelope? I already know how you and your... family do things."

"Of course not, Victoria," Mother answered obediently.

I nearly stared. I had never seen my mother yield to another in her own household! The effort was obviously difficult, as I noticed Father enfold her clenched fist in a large hand.

He scowled at my grandmother. "Mother," he warned.

"I know." She shrugged away his warning with arrogance. "I am here, like you so kindly requested in your letter, to help. I will take Pansy back to the manor with me tomorrow."

My jaw dropped. I was going to go stay with Grandmother? In her manor!

Never in all of my life had I seen the real estate of the Parkinson name, probably because Grandmother never invited us. In the past she had always explained it as "not a place for children." Not to mention that she had never really shown any interest in me or my sister before now.

"Father?" I turned towards him questioningly.

He smiled. "You are to stay with your grandmother this summer, Pansy," he explained. "There is to much for your mother and I to see to here. You will only be in the way. You will still attend the wedding, of course." His eyes roamed towards his mother once more. "Besides, it is time for you to go."

I followed his eyes to see Grandmother watching once more, her features unreadable. She nodded decisively. "Yes," she agreed. "We have waited far too long as it is. Any more lessons in this household and she'll end up just another - " she didn't finish, but glanced at my mother meaningfully.

I felt a startled sense of anger on Mother's behalf. Before I could think about it, I demanded, "Are you implying that-"

"No," she interrupted, her gaze darkening as it swung towards me. "You are misreading my implications about things you know nothing about!"

Reprimanded, I lowered my gaze submissively.

I felt, rather than saw, her smile. "Very good, Pansy. Now leave us, I have matters to discuss with your parents."

I gave another deep curtsy before hurriedly leaving the room. Hidden from her gaze behind oak doors, I wilted against the doorframe. I felt completely exhausted, as if I had been running for ages. My head began to ache at the possibility of living with that woman for two months.

For the first time since the engagement, I was actually looking forward to my sister's marriage and my own return home.

*~*

The carriage ride was uncomfortable, to say the least. I spent most of it avoiding Grandmother's intense gaze as she studied me quietly. She spoke little throughout the trip, and I entertained myself by watching the scenery blur below us as the flying carriage carried us towards our destination.

Despite myself, I was increasingly curious about the mysterious woman before me. I knew little about her, even though she was family, and I was very interested in where she lived. The estate my parents oversaw was a newer extension to the Parkinson estate, in which the newest heads of house resided. The estate that we were traveling to was where the true heritage to the Parkinson name could be found.

It was dusk before I noticed a difference in the carriage as it slowed and started to angle downwards. While I hated traveling in carriages, Grandmother declared that she would not travel any other way. Peeking out the window anxiously, I looked at the world below with fascination. It was so different from my own home.

Rocky headlands came into sight, from which thickly wooden ravines cut through them like scars, and a fog was just beginning to rise above the trees tops as we lowered into a particularly large ravine.

Turning, I caught Grandmother watching me with a smirk.

"Where are we?" I couldn't resist asking.

"Exmoor Park."

Her smirk deepened at my blank look. "No... I didn't expect you to know of it. It is a Muggle attraction, or preservation."

"But how do you keep the Muggles away?" I wondered.

She smiled mysteriously. "It is hard to get into these ravines without magic. Not to mention that there are many wards to dissuade the ones who attempt it anyway."

I turned back towards the window. It was getting harder to see outside as the last of the sun's light faded away. Within the ravines it was even darker, and I could only just make out the perceptible blur of trees as we continued to move.

"What are the Muggles preserving, I wonder?"

"Nature, wildlife, trees," she answered, uninterested.

"Interesting," I replied, genuinely intrigued. "You'd think that they would have enough of those to not have an attraction of it."

Grandmother's laugh made me look up, my gaze narrowing irritably.

"You really should consider Muggle Studies in school," she informed me.

Disgruntled at her amusement, especially at my expense, I settled back to wait. What seemed like ages later, the carriage settled to a stop. Grandmother seemed relieved at the stop as well, and a faint smile curved her lips as the door was opened.

The carriage driver helped us out as people moved forward to unload my bags. There must have been dozens of servants bustling about, but I had eyes only for the manor before me. It was the most beautiful building I had ever seen. The manor was made of a rough stone that had been charmed into complex architecture which twisted the stonework into several depictions of creatures or scenes.

As we moved forward, I made out the images of dragons and unicorns in the flickering torchlight as well as mermaids, fairies, centaurs and others. Scrollwork framed each of the many windows that cast light out into the darkness, and torches lined the large engraved wooden doors, which represented the Parkinson house sigil - a crescent moon and star.

One of the large doors creaked open, allowing a sliver of light to fall upon us as I made my way up the stairs. A figure stood silhouetted in the doorway.

"Welcome to Esteria, Miss Parkinson," a warm voice greeted me, as I stepped into a world far different from my own.

*~*

Esteria was unlike anything I had ever encountered. Grandmother told me that the estate was named after my ancestor, whose beauty and strong will had stirred the inspiration for the wild and mysterious woodlands that inhabited the ravine.

I quickly learned that this household was different from anything I had ever been introduced to. It was run strictly and efficiently, making every transition smooth and without error. Every room, and there were many, was perfect for whatever mood suited you.

For quiet and solitude, the viewing rooms in the north wing could entertain the wayward mind for hours, as you looked out into the thick woodlands. A small valley nearby would often have small herds of deer or wild ponies in the early hours of the morning.

Numerous sitting rooms and parlors could be found throughout the entire house. A massive library, ballroom, dining hall, entrance hall and family parlor covered most of the first floor.

The east and west wings held bedrooms and private parlors. My own bedroom was the most glorious one I had ever been in. The room was beautifully decorated and accented in honeys, creams, and golds. A marble fireplace covered one wall, in front of which was an arrangement of chairs and pillows.

My breakfast table lay before a massive window and glass door that led to the balcony. The bed in itself was the largest one I had ever seen, and I literally sank in it. I had fallen in love with the room on first glance, never before being accorded such luxury at home. While I hated to admit it, even to myself, I was very impressed.

My first days at Esteria I spent entertaining myself through exploration of the large and mysterious manor. After two days I had gotten lost six times, found two hidden passages, and been late to almost every meal.

A deep history emanated from the very walls of the manor, and it mesmerized me at the expanse of knowledge I hadn't even known about my own heritage. Surprisingly, the staff was all very friendly. Odd, for I would have assumed them detached if they worked for my grandmother.

"How long have you worked here?" I asked one of the maids who had brought me Grandmother's summons.

She smiled at me prettily, leading me down yet another corridor. "All my life. My mother was Head Mistress here."

I gaped at her, she couldn't have been more than twenty. "What about school?" I blurted out.

The maid seemed undisturbed. "I completed all my schooling through owl."

"Do you ever go out?" I demanded, manners completely forgotten.

She laughed. "Of course! But it is family tradition to serve the head of Esteria." Her expression became serious. "It has always been so among my family."

I shook my head, uncomprehending. I would never have been able to stay in one place my entire life. Not to mention trapped within the strange wilderness that surrounded the manor. The woodlands outside were thick and mysterious, always enshrouded with fog and mists. It gave off the slight impression of guarding it's occupants from leaving.

*~*

The maid, who I finally learned was called Heather, led me to a large room. Paintings of different wizards covered many of the walls, along with shelves of books and random items; a penseive, a map, lots of scrolls, an owl perch. A large desk sat in front of open windows, and a crackling fire in the hearth staved off a chill.

Grandmother looked up as we entered. "Come," she ordered, "sit."

I placed myself in one of the cushioned chairs before her desk. I returned her stare steadily, if hesitantly. I was still unsure as to where I stood with my grandmother.

"I assume you've been wondering why you are here," she said suddenly.

I shrugged. "I was in the way of everything and my parents needed to find me somewhere 'suitable' to stay."

She smirked in amusement at my flippant tone. I suspected that she knew of my suppressed jealousy for my sibling, but it was something I would never admit. I had lived for the past twelve years as the least favorite of the two daughters. I was use to it, and it had evolved into a grudging acceptance.

"I like you," she stated, "for all you are your mother's daughter."

I opened my mouth angrily, but she frowned significantly and I silenced my protest. "As I was saying," she continued, "you are your mother's daughter, but you are also your father's."

I waited impatiently as she proceeded.

"I had always thought that I would introduce Zella to our heritage when she was fifteen. But I had waited too long, and she was already..." she dismissed whatever word she had been about to use with a shrug. Instead she added, "Zella is very much like your mother; beautiful, loyal, obedient... shaped."

"You don't have to say it like it's a curse," I retorted, shifting uncomfortably as her eyes shifted to mine once more.

She grinned. "Of course it isn't. I'm sure you are aware that your mother and I set two very different standards."

I had remembered Zella mentioning something about it long ago. "I know that you both belong in different circles."

"It is more than that," she admitted. "The circles I run in are very exclusive. Only the best of the best are admitted, and only those of ancient blood."

I raised a brow. So that was where the "old blood" fit in.

"These houses include the Superior Houses," she said. "Houses with century long traditions. We didn't just mix with the Dark Arts, but helped to create them. These houses are of an old class and time, and only our own are allowed."

"Meaning not the Houflin family," I commented.

She nodded. "It was a slight that your mother never overcame. I admitted Victor's marriage to her only very hesitantly, and needless to say that they will never be admitted."

I scowled, suddenly feeling very below my place. Was she trying to say that being a Parkinson was no longer as glorified as it use to be because of my mother? My ire flared up passionately at the idea. How dare she!

Reading my expression she laughed. "Such a temper! Wouldn't Penelope be upset at your slip in composure."

My expression darkened, but I tried to calm myself nevertheless. "So what you're trying to say is that we are now tainted because of my mother? The Houflin's go back at least two centuries!"

"And how far back do the Parkinson's go?" she snapped. "Penelope never had the training to descend into a house of such prestige. Victor would have been much better off with Bellatrix or Leona..." she trailed off, shaking her head with a muttered "stubborn boy."

"She's managed well enough without your support," I informed her.

"Oh, I've no doubt," she replied, eyes glinting at my tone of anger. "The best thing she could have done for Zella was wed her to Neil Lestrange."

Not quite agreeing with her, I shifted in my seat again. I felt uncertain around this elderly woman who could so easily unbalance me. Once again her controlling presence had intimidated me.

Silence settled among us before she finally broke it. "What I was trying to say is that by the time I came to Zella she was already too influenced. Not to mention that your parents had promised her away to a Lestrange. And once something belongs to them there is no getting it back."

The seriousness of her statement made me cringe, as if my doubts were confirmed. Noting my reaction with interest, Grandmother continued, "I needed someone with no such contracts, and someone I could use."

Immediately I decided that I didn't like where she was headed with this.

"You have no life-binding marriage contracts, and if what your father said is true, you adjusted the hardest to your mother's," she made a face, "lessons."

I waited as she watched me intently again, meeting her eyes with defiant nervousness. My head started to ache as I attempted to interpret her meaning.

"It is due to your parents' neglect of you that I have made my decision," she finally explained. "I need an heir, and you are my best possibility."

She frowned at my stare of incredulity. "An heir?" I repeated dumbly. "Me?"

"Can you not hear well?" she snapped impatiently. "That is what I have been discussing with you this whole time."

"But... when? How?" I stammered, my own thoughts muddled in confusion.

"Zella is a Lestrange now," she said. "I do not want the Lestranges owning Esteria, and your parents are already unacceptable."

"Because of my mother," I said acidly.

"Will you stop dwelling on that!" she growled.

Her anger instantly subdued me. Disgruntled, she settled into her seat once more.

"As I was saying, the circles I run in are elite. I did not gain admittance as just a Parkinson."

"Roseguard," I supplied, with dawning comprehension.

Her eyes glinted in some unreadable emotion. "Very good, Pansy. Your own heritage is credible in that Roseguard and Parkinson both run deeply in your veins. Noble names to be sure." Reaching forward she picked up one of the various parchments on her desk. "Of course, to do this you must succumb to my teachings."

I sighed; more lessons. "Does my father know?"

"Of course," she replied indignantly. "I informed him of my intentions as soon as I discovered Zella would be inadequate. The wedding was given as an excuse to Penelope so that I could evaluate you myself."

I frowned at her reference to myself, as if I was some prized object. Then her words really sank in. This had all been approved without my permission; decided for me, not with me. I scowled angrily.

"I don't have a choice," I said vehemently.

"On the contrary," she said with a knowing smirk, "you do. My standards are strict, if you can't live with them you won't live with all they entail."

"These standards include marriage?"

Her smirk grew into a dimpled smile. "Did you expect any less?"

I frowned. I had always known that my marriage would be decided for me, but did I really want the decision to be left to her? A woman I scarcely knew and surely didn't trust. I rubbed at my temple thoughtfully, trying to ease the ache I felt building there.

It was so much to absorb all at once. There were too many unanswered questions. Why hadn't she waited until I was fifteen as she had done with Zella? If she disliked Mother so much, why did she allow the marriage? What could I expect from her?

She waved a hand. "You may go and think on it if you like. I shall have an answer by dinner tonight."

Relieved, I hurried from the room, looking over my shoulder as I opened the door. Her eyes were on me once again with that strange glint in them. I shivered uneasily, snapping the door closed behind me.