21
Alice found Narcissa in the blue drawing room, exactly where Antonin had said she would be. The older witch was arranging flowers in a crystal vase, her movements precise and graceful as she adjusted each stem to perfection. She looked up as Alice entered, a warm smile gracing her aristocratic features.
"There you are, dear." Narcissa set aside her wand, leaving the flowers to settle themselves. "I trust you haven't been hiding in the library this entire time?"
"Not the entire time," Alice defended with a slight laugh. "Sometimes I hide in the courtyard instead." She didn't mention the snowman that still stood guard outside, its obsidian eyes gleaming in the winter sun. Some moments were better kept private.
"Well, that simply won't do anymore." Narcissa gestured for Alice to join her on the chaise. "The spring equinox will be here before we know it, and you, my dear, have a role to play."
Alice felt a flutter of nervous anticipation in her stomach. "What kind of role?"
"The Dark Lord has decreed that this year's equinox celebration will be held at the Palace," Narcissa revealed, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement. "And you, as his ward, will be expected to help host."
"Host?" Alice's voice came out slightly squeaky. "Narcissa, I barely know how to navigate these events as a guest, let alone—"
"Which is precisely why we're going to start small," Narcissa interrupted smoothly. "There are several smaller gatherings in the coming weeks. Tea with the Greengrass family, a literary salon at the Notts', even a small musical evening at my own home." She patted Alice's hand. "Baby steps, dear."
"The Greengrasses?" Alice latched onto the familiar name.
"Indeed. They've been quite curious about you since the solstice." Narcissa's smile turned slightly predatory. "Everyone has, of course, but the Greengrasses are old money, old magic. Their approval could smooth your path considerably."
Alice absorbed this, thinking of the political implications. "And if they don't approve?"
"Then we move on to the next family," Narcissa said simply. "But they will. You have something they all want, something they can't buy or marry into."
"The Dark Lord's favor," Alice murmured, understanding dawning.
"Precisely." Narcissa conjured a delicate silver tea service with a flick of her wand. "Now, let's discuss what you'll wear. The Greengrasses appreciate subtlety – nothing too bold or modern. Perhaps that dove grey silk we had made last month..."
"Actually," Narcissa said, setting her teacup down with deliberate care, "there's something you should understand about the spring equinox celebration."
Alice looked up from the guest list they'd been reviewing. "Oh?"
"While it is our most lighthearted gathering, make no mistake – hosting at the Dark Palace carries significant responsibilities." Narcissa's blue eyes held a serious glint. "Every detail must be perfect. The flowers, the music, the food – it all reflects not just on the Palace, but on him."
"I assumed as much," Alice nodded, thinking of the endless lists they'd been making.
"But here's what's truly interesting," Narcissa continued, leaning forward slightly. "It's not customary for a ward to have any hosting duties at all. In fact, it's quite unprecedented." She paused meaningfully. "The Dark Lord specifically requested your involvement in every aspect of the planning."
Alice felt her breath catch. "But why would he—"
"Think carefully, dear." Narcissa's smile was knowing. "He's positioning you as more than just a ward. You're being given responsibilities that typically belong to..." she trailed off delicately.
"To whom?" Alice asked, though something fluttered in her chest at the implication.
"Let's just say that the role has never been filled." Narcissa's eyes sparkled. "The Dark Lord is notoriously particular about his private domain. For him to trust someone with such duties, especially someone without magic..." She left the sentence hanging.
Understanding dawned slowly. "You think he sees me as..."
"I think," Narcissa said carefully, "that he sees potential in you that goes beyond your role as a political peace offering. And I think the spring equinox will be your chance to prove him right." She paused, then added with a slight smile, "The celebration itself is quite lovely – more of a magical ball than a serious ritual. Dancing, feasting, celebrating the return of spring. Much more relaxed than the solstice."
"Oh yes," Narcissa's smile widened. "And as co-host, you'll be expected to dance with him first, as is tradition."
The implications of that settled over Alice like a warm cloak. She thought of their quiet moments in the library, their discussions of magical theory, even that strange, gentle afternoon building a snowman. He wasn't just keeping her as a political pawn – he was integrating her into his life in a way no one had expected.
"Now," Narcissa continued briskly, though her eyes were soft with understanding, "shall we discuss the spring menu? I was thinking perhaps an enchanted garden theme..."
"—and of course, you'll need to brush up on the latest political developments," Narcissa was saying. "Lady Greengrass will certainly try to draw you out on the subject of the northern settlements."
Alice's attention snapped back. "The settlements? Why would she care about those?"
Something flickered in Narcissa's eyes – concern, perhaps, or calculation. "The Greengrass family has... interests in the north. Property, mainly. They'll want to know if the new policies will affect their holdings."
"And will they?" Alice asked carefully.
"That," Narcissa replied with a knowing smile, "is exactly the kind of question you'll need to learn to deflect gracefully." She set down her teacup with a decisive clink. "Now, about your hair..."
The Greengrass estate loomed before them, all elegant stonework and carefully manicured gardens, even in winter. Alice stood at Narcissa's side, grateful for the older witch's steadying presence as they approached the entrance. She was wearing the dove grey silk as suggested, with subtle silver embroidery that caught the light – understated but unmistakably expensive, exactly as Narcissa had planned.
"Remember," Narcissa murmured as they reached the door, "Lady Greengrass will try to overwhelm you with questions about the northern settlements. Keep your responses vague but interested. And do try not to stare when they use magic – the Greengrasses are rather... traditional about such things."
The door swung open without anyone touching it, and Alice forced herself not to react. A tall, aristocratic woman with distinctive cheekbones and calculating eyes stood in the entrance. "Lady Malfoy," she greeted warmly, before turning her keen gaze to Alice. "And the Dark Lord's ward. How... unusual."
"Lady Greengrass," Alice offered a perfect curtsy, just as Narcissa had drilled into her. "Thank you for having us."
"How could we not?" Lady Greengrass's smile was razor-sharp. "Everyone is simply dying to know more about the muggle girl who's captured our Lord's attention."
The drawing room was overwhelming in its display of magic – teacups that floated, portraits that moved and whispered, and what appeared to be actual fairies providing light from crystal globes. Daphne Greengrass was already there, along with her younger sister Astoria, both girls perfectly poised on an antique settee.
"I hear you've been studying magical theory," Lady Greengrass began as tea served itself. "Quite... unprecedented for someone of your background."
"Alice has shown remarkable aptitude for understanding our ways," Narcissa interjected smoothly. "Even Antonin Dolohov speaks highly of her insights."
"Does he?" Lady Greengrass's eyebrows rose slightly. "And tell me, dear, what do you make of the latest developments in the north? I understand there have been some... adjustments to the settlement boundaries."
Alice took a careful sip of tea, buying time. "The intricacies of magical territory management are still quite new to me," she replied, watching Narcissa's subtle nod of approval. "Though I find the historical aspects fascinating."
"Indeed." Lady Greengrass leaned forward slightly. "And these new restrictions on muggle movement near certain... areas of interest? What are your thoughts on those?"
"Mother," Astoria interrupted unexpectedly, her voice softer than Daphne's but carrying a quiet determination, "I've actually been reading about the historical integration of magical and non-magical communities. Alice, have you come across Bathilda Bagshot's writings on the subject? There's a fascinating chapter about how the International Statute of Secrecy affected mixed communities."
Alice caught a flicker of surprise in Lady Greengrass's eyes at her younger daughter's intervention. "I haven't read that one yet," she replied, grateful for the lifeline. "Though I'd love to learn more about it."
As the afternoon progressed, Alice found herself drawn into deeper conversation with Astoria, who seemed to share her genuine curiosity about the intersection of magical and non-magical worlds. While Daphne maintained a polite distance and Lady Greengrass continued her subtle interrogation, Astoria asked thoughtful questions about Alice's perspective on magical theory.
"We have some fascinating books in our library," Astoria mentioned, her eyes bright with genuine interest rather than the usual condescension Alice had grown accustomed to. "Including some rare texts about magical theory that don't require actual spell-casting to understand. Would you... would you like to see them?"
"I'd love to," Alice replied warmly, recognizing something familiar in the younger girl's enthusiasm – the same hunger for knowledge that often drove her own studies.
"Astoria," Lady Greengrass cut in sharply, "I'm sure the Dark Lord's ward has more important matters to attend to than browsing our library."
"Actually," Narcissa interjected smoothly, "I think it's a wonderful idea. Perhaps we could arrange another visit? It would be good for Alice to form connections with others her age who share her... intellectual curiosity."
Alice caught Astoria's eye and saw a small, hopeful smile form on the younger girl's face. Despite their different backgrounds, there was something in Astoria's thoughtful demeanor that suggested she might be more than just another pureblood princess – she might be someone who could see beyond the labels of magical and muggle, someone who could become a true friend.
Later, in the carriage, Narcissa squeezed her hand. "Well done," she murmured. "You handled their prejudices beautifully. A perfect balance of humility and dignity."
The weeks that followed were a blur of events, teas, and gatherings. By the time Alice stumbled back to the Palace late one evening, her head was spinning with names, faces, and the countless social rules Narcissa had drilled into her. She hadn't eaten since morning, having been whisked from one engagement to the next.
She was making her way toward her chambers, barely registering her surroundings, when his voice cut through her daze.
"You look rather... disheveled," Voldemort observed, materializing from the shadows with that peculiar grace of his.
Alice blinked at him, too tired to even startle at his sudden appearance. "Do I? I suppose that's what happens when Lady Malfoy decides you need to attend three different social calls in one day." Her stomach chose that moment to growl audibly, and she felt heat rise to her cheeks.
To her surprise, something like amusement flickered across his features. "When did you last eat?"
"I..." she frowned, trying to remember. "There were little cakes at the Parkinsons'? Around noon, I think?"
He studied her for a moment, then made a decision. "Come," he commanded, turning with a sweep of his robes.
Too tired to question it, Alice followed him through the Palace's winding corridors until they reached his private dining room – a place she'd never been before. With a wave of his hand, the table filled with an array of dishes.
"Sit," he instructed, taking his own seat at the head of the table.
Alice sank gratefully into a chair, the smell of food making her realize just how hungry she was. She served herself some soup, trying to maintain proper etiquette despite her exhaustion.
"You don't eat," she observed after a while, noticing his empty place setting.
"No," he replied, watching her with that unreadable expression. "I don't require sustenance in the way others do. Another unique condition of my... immortality."
Alice paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. "Never?"
"The physical needs of ordinary mortals are... beneath me," he said, though there was no malice in his tone, only that familiar hint of amusement. "On the occasion I will indulge, though it is purely optional… and tonight, I opt to observe."
"Like watching an interesting pet?" she suggested, too tired to filter her words.
To her surprise, he laughed – a genuine sound that seemed to surprise them both. "More like observing a fascinating specimen that consistently defies expectations."
Alice smiled despite herself, feeling the fog of exhaustion lifting slightly. "Well, this specimen is grateful for the food. Though I should probably warn you – Lady Malfoy has my entire week planned out with more social calls."
"So I've heard," he replied dryly. "She seems quite determined to prepare you for the equinox celebration. Missile you into society, so to speak."
"I think she's trying to get me to make alliances," Alice mused, helping herself to some bread. "Though mostly I just try not to commit any horrible social mistake."
"And how is that going?"
"Well, I haven't started any blood feuds yet," she said cheerfully. “You’ll back me in any wars I start, I hope.”
He shook his head, that strange warmth creeping into his expression again. "Eat," he commanded softly. "Before you fall asleep in your soup."
As Alice finished her meal, she found herself oddly comfortable in this strange scene – sharing a quiet moment with the most feared wizard in Britain, who watched over her dinner without eating himself.