11
Lady Narcissa Malfoy's arrival was heralded by the subtle straightening of every portrait in the corridor, as if the very castle recognized the presence of true aristocracy. She swept into Alice's chambers with perfect posture, her ice-blue robes immaculate, every platinum hair in place.
"Lady Waters," she greeted with practiced grace, though her blue eyes held genuine warmth as they assessed her former charge. "You appear to be thriving."
"Lady Malfoy," Alice returned with a small curtsy – one of the many courtesies she'd learned during her brief stay at Malfoy Manor. "It's wonderful to see you again."
Narcissa inclined her head slightly, approval flickering across her features at Alice's proper greeting. "Come, let us take tea. We have much to discuss." She glanced at the waiting house-elf. "Earl Grey, properly steeped, with honey for Lady Waters."
They settled in the sitting area, and Alice couldn't help but notice how even this simple act seemed like a lesson in deportment when performed by Lady Malfoy. Every movement was precise, elegant, considered.
"The Dark Lord has informed me of your upcoming presentation at the Solstice gathering," Narcissa began, her voice measured. "It is... unprecedented, but then, you seem to have developed quite the habit of defying expectations."
The observation carried no judgment, merely stating fact. "I confess, I'm rather nervous about it all."
"As you should be," Narcissa replied candidly, though not unkindly. "The Winter Solstice gathering is one of our most significant social events. Every head member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight will be in attendance… along with the Dark Lord's inner circle." She paused, considering her next words carefully. "Your presence will be... controversial."
"I'd expected as much," Alice admitted, mirroring Narcissa's composed demeanor. "Any advice would be most welcome."
A ghost of a smile touched Narcissa's lips. "You've learned diplomacy well. Good." She set down her teacup with perfect precision. "You'll need it. The court is a crucible, Alice, and you'll be tested. Not openly – the Dark Lord's protection prevents that – but through a thousand small cuts: a sneer here, a whispered comment there, the subtle shift of a shoulder to exclude you from conversation."
"How should I respond?"
"With dignity," Narcissa answered simply. "You cannot match them in magic or bloodline, so do not try. Instead, demonstrate why the Dark Lord finds you worthy of his attention. Your intelligence, your composure, your... unique perspective."
She rose gracefully, moving to examine the robes laid out for inspection. "These will not do," she declared, vanishing them with a delicate flick of her wand. "I shall have something suitable sent from Twilfitt and Tattings. Something that speaks of your position without... overreaching."
A knock at the door interrupted them, and Lord Dolohov appeared with his customary timing. "Lady Malfoy, Lady Waters – the Dark Lord requests your presence in the library."
As they followed him through the corridors, Narcissa's hand briefly touched Alice's arm – a gesture so subtle it might have been missed, yet carrying volumes of support in its restraint.
"Remember," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "you represent not only yourself now, but the Dark Lord's judgment. Carry yourself accordingly."
The library doors opened silently at their approach. The Dark Lord stood at his usual place by the window, but today the massive table that dominated the center of the room was covered in what appeared to be architectural drawings – ancient ones, by the look of their yellowed parchment.
"My Lord," Narcissa greeted with a deep curtsy, Alice following suit beside her.
"Lady Malfoy," he acknowledged, turning from the window. "I trust you find your former ward in good condition?"
"Indeed, my Lord. She appears to have adapted... remarkably well."
Something in Narcissa's tone made Alice glance up. There was a careful neutrality in Lady Malfoy's expression that spoke volumes – she was surprised, perhaps even impressed, but wouldn't dare show it openly.
"The solstice gathering will be held in the Great Hall this year," Voldemort stated, gesturing to the plans spread across the table. "The original chamber, not the modern addition. I believe you're familiar with it, Narcissa?"
"Yes, my Lord. The ancient heart of the castle." Her eyes traced the intricate drawings with recognition. "Though it hasn't been used in..."
"Centuries," he finished. "Not since the time of the Founders." His red eyes shifted to Alice. "You've been reading about magical architecture, have you not?"
Alice stepped forward carefully, studying the plans. "Yes, my Lord. The treatise by Rowena Ravenclaw on magical foundations was particularly fascinating. She wrote about how certain chambers in ancient magical buildings serve as... focal points, I believe she called them. Places where magical energies naturally converge."
A pleased expression flickered across his features. "And what else have you learned?"
"That the oldest parts of magical buildings often align with celestial events," she continued, tracing a line on the yellowed parchment. "The winter solstice sunset would shine directly through this western window, wouldn't it? Creating a perfect alignment with the eastern archway."
Narcissa's subtle intake of breath suggested she'd said something significant. The Dark Lord's smile confirmed it.
"Very good," he murmured. "Lady Malfoy, you'll ensure she's properly prepared for the gathering. I want no... unfortunate incidents."
"Of course, my Lord." Narcissa's voice was perfectly composed, but Alice caught the slight tightening around her eyes. "Though perhaps if I knew the exact nature of—"
"You need only prepare her to be present," he interrupted smoothly. "Nothing more."
The dismissal in his tone was clear. Narcissa curtsied again, but paused before turning to leave. "My Lord, regarding the seating arrangements..."
"Lady Waters will be seated at the high table," he stated, his tone brooking no argument. "Between yourself and Lord Dolohov."
“Lucius will, of course, be joining us,” Voldemort added, a subtle glint in his eyes. Narcissa’s composure momentarily faltered, a flicker of genuine pleasure crossing her face. “An honor for our House, my Lord,” she responded, her voice regaining its usual smooth cadence.
Alice felt rather than saw the ripple of surprise that passed through both Narcissa and Dolohov. The high table was reserved for his most trusted followers – to place a muggle there was unprecedented.
"As you wish, my Lord," Narcissa responded, her composure perfect despite her obvious surprise. "Come, Alice. We have much to discuss."
But the Dark Lord held up one hand. "A moment more with Lady Waters, if you please."
Once they were alone, he turned those crimson eyes on her fully. "You've been studying more than just magical architecture."
It wasn't a question, but Alice answered anyway. "The library contains multitudes, my Lord. It would be wasteful not to take advantage of such knowledge."
"Indeed." He studied her for a long moment. "Tell me, what do you know of ley lines?"
"Ley lines are channels of natural magical energy," Alice began, but stopped when she noticed his expression. "Though I suspect you're not actually interested in my academic understanding of them."
"Perceptive," he murmured. "No, I wanted to inform you that the Minister will be attending the solstice gathering."
Alice's hands stilled in her lap. "I see."
"Do you?" His voice held that dangerous amusement she'd grown familiar with. "He seems quite... eager to see how his little gift has fared in my care."
The word 'gift' hung between them like frost in the air. Alice fought to keep her voice steady. "Will he be expecting to see a bride, my Lord?"
"He will see exactly what I wish him to see – a ward who has found her place in my court, despite being unsuitable for her... intended purpose." His lips curved slightly. "Too young, as we agreed."
Relief warred with guilt in her chest. The Minister had chosen her, believing an arranged marriage would help protect the muggle population. Her new position as ward, while personally preferable, did nothing to serve that purpose.
"Does it trouble you?" he asked, studying her face with those unnervingly perceptive eyes. "Knowing you've failed in your original mission to be a bridge between our worlds?"
"Would you believe me if I said no?"
His laugh was soft but sharp. "Rarely do you disappoint with your honesty, little scholar." He moved closer, his presence filling the space between them. "Tell me, what troubles you more – that you cannot help your kind, or that you've grown comfortable in their supposed enemy's court?"
Alice met his gaze, allowing herself a small measure of boldness. "Perhaps what troubles me most is that you already know the answer to that question, my Lord."
His smile widened fractionally. "Indeed." He turned back to the architectural plans. "The Minister will be seated where he can observe you throughout the evening. I find myself... curious to see how he handles watching his carefully chosen bride flourishing instead as my…ward."
"You're going to enjoy his discomfort immensely, aren't you?" The words slipped out before she could stop them.
"Almost as much as I enjoy yours in this moment," he replied smoothly. "Though I must admit, your growing comfort with such impertinence is... intriguing.”