8
Alice stood in the western gardens after Lord Voldemort's departure, watching the dangerous blooms sway in an enchanted breeze. A Venomous Tentacula stretched lazily in the morning light, its movements reminding her oddly of a cat luxuriating in the sun.
Perhaps that was why she wasn't as frightened as she should be. He moved like that too – like a predator well-fed and content, showing gentleness simply because there was no immediate need for violence. Everything he did seemed to have purpose, even his kindness. The senseless cruelty she had been warned to fear from him didn't seem to serve any purpose at all, and so she had not seen it.
She smiled, watching a particularly vibrant flower snap at a passing insect. These gardens were far more interesting than the pristine rose beds and perfectly arranged topiaries she had known before. Here, every plant had personality, had power – even if that power was dangerous.
Her life before had been happy enough, if a bit predictable. The servants had been kind, her education thorough, her days filled with pleasant activities. But there had been something missing – perhaps this very sense of discovery she felt now, standing among magical plants that could kill her as easily as enchant her.
She thought of her duties in the non-magical world, the role she had been meant to play there. But those thoughts held less weight now, here among the deadly blooms and ancient magic. Here, at least, she could learn something new each day, could discover worlds she had never imagined existed.
In the days that followed their meeting in the gardens, Alice began to notice subtle changes in the castle. Doors that had once been firmly closed now stood slightly ajar, inviting curiosity. The house elves no longer shooed her away from certain corridors, though they watched her with their large, knowing eyes.
She grew bolder in her wanderings, discovering new passages and hidden corners. The library proved to be a particular delight, with its towering shelves and ancient tomes that sometimes whispered as she passed. Though she couldn't practice magic herself, she found herself fascinated by its theory, by the elegant patterns of spells and potions.
It was in one of the grand corridors that she encountered Lucius Malfoy. His white-blonde hair caught the light from the high windows as he stood in heated discussion with Lord Voldemort about some matter of state. Upon seeing her approach, Lucius stiffened visibly, his aristocratic features betraying a flicker of... was it distaste? Discomfort? He made his excuses with practiced grace, departing before she could draw near enough to offer a proper greeting.
"He always was a bit of a coward," he said, not taking his eyes off the tall blonde wizard. "I think he means to avoid you for shame, Lady Waters." His gaze shifted back to her, his voice low and slightly teasing. "He remembers his part in deceiving you, though he acts as if he had any choice in the matter." His smirk widened slightly. "Still, the Malfoys are a strangely proud house. No wonder he can't look you in the eye."
"They were kind to me," Alice offered softly, remembering her time at the Manor.
"Kindness born of fear is still kindness, I suppose," he remarked dryly. "Though he'll find avoiding you rather difficult in the coming months. The winter solstice approaches, and with it, certain... celebrations. Even Lucius can't manufacture enough excuses to miss those."
His eyes grew distant for a moment, almost thoughtful. "Abraxas was nothing like this... always faced things head-on, whatever the consequences."
"Abraxas?" Alice asked, curious about this rare moment of reflection.
"Hm?" Voldemort's attention snapped back to the present, as if he'd forgotten she was there. "Never mind."
"My Lord," Alice began carefully, her voice soft but clear, "if I may ask... what exactly happens during the winter solstice celebrations?"
He turned to her, red eyes studying her with that peculiar intensity she'd grown accustomed to. "Curiosity, Lady Waters?" A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Or concern?"
"Perhaps a bit of both," she admitted. "I've read that ancient celebrations often required... participants."
"Sacrifices, you mean?" His voice held a note of amusement as he observed her reaction. "How fascinating that your mind went there first."
Alice felt heat rise to her cheeks but held his gaze. "It seemed prudent to ask, my Lord. Given my... unique position here."
"Indeed." He stepped closer, his presence commanding the space between them. "And what would you do with such information? If I told you that your role was to be more than mere observer?"
"I would..." she hesitated, choosing her words with care, "hope that my studies in magical theory hadn't been entirely in vain."
Something flickered in his expression – surprise, perhaps, or appreciation for her measured response. "The winter solstice is the longest night of the year," he said, his voice taking on that mesmerizing quality it held when he spoke of ancient magic. "The veil between worlds grows thin, and magic older than memory stirs in the dark. Magic that remembers when the boundaries between magical and non-magical were... less defined."
“It is especially significant to the old noble houses - a night when old alliances are fortified, and new ones forged. A night when everyone…is watching each other.” He paused, studying her with renewed interest. "As for your role, Lady Waters... let us say that you continue to prove more intriguing than anticipated."
The Death Eater at the end of the hall shifted slightly, drawing both their attention.
Something in his tone suggested he found the whole situation rather entertaining.
A figure appeared at the end of the corridor – another Death Eater awaiting his attention. Alice recognized this as her cue to depart, but before she could curtsy, Voldemort spoke again.
"The library's eastern wing has been opened to you," he said casually, as if commenting on the weather. "I believe you'll find the texts on magical theory... enlightening. Even if you cannot practice the magic itself."
It was the kind of thoughtful gesture that still surprised her, coming from him. But before she could thank him, his demeanor had already shifted, his attention turning to the waiting Death Eater. The brief moment of almost-warmth was gone, replaced by the cool authority she was learning to recognize as his more natural state.
As Alice made her way toward the library, she couldn't help but smile at how these interactions had become almost... normal. The most feared wizard in Britain, casually recommending reading material to his muggle ward. What would the Minister think of that?
The thought made her pause mid-step. The Minister. She hadn't thought of him in weeks, hadn't considered the political implications of her presence here in... she couldn't remember how long. How strange that this place, with all its dangers and dark magic, had begun to feel more real than the world she'd left behind.