"Were you talking to muggleborns again?" Emile exclaimed, annoyed. They had just finished Quidditch practice for the day and stumbled upon Anya coming out of the kitchen with a group of firsties and like it wasn't bad enough that they had to deal with her halfblood cousin and his muggleborn friend. At least those two had the sense of only befriending purebloods but really, his tolerance for them and Anya's continuous shenanigans was getting close to its end.
"I rather think the worst crime is that they're Hufflepuffs," Ewen drawled sarcastically. Damian just narrowed his gaze beside them. Although he had no fondness for Hufflepuffs and definitely no lost love for muggleborns, he didn’t want to start another fight with Anya after their last fight during Duelling Club. She had yet to forgive him for that one and he realised he really hated the idea of her being angry at him and didn't want to risk making her angrier.
"What does it matter if they're muggleborns?" Emma replied, crossing her arms in annoyance. She had moved from behind the boys to step beside Anya now.
"Or if they're Puffs or even both?" Anya replied, glaring at the trio. She felt personally insulted, as if she or Lily or her mother weren't good enough somehow.
"Oh nothing," Damian said, a little annoyed because it wasn't their fault Anya had a soft spot for underdogs, but still trying to placate the girl he really liked, "I mean, at least they aren't Gryffindors."
"So what if they were Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs or muggleborns or a combination? You might as well just insult Lily to my face. And tell me what is wrong with them being muggleborns when half of the purebloods snivel and bow at a halfblood?" Anya replied. Truly annoyed by now. Lately she had been struggling with her papa’s idea of turning her natural Legilimency into a way of Occluding her mind as every session felt like her brain kept getting scrambled and it left her irritated and angry.
"What are you talking about?" Emile asked, arms crossed.
"You truly think we're not aware that Riddle is nothing more than a halfblood?" Anya replied, tired of the whole charade by now. Subtlety and Slytherin cleverness were truly out the window now but she didn't give a damn in that moment.
"That can't be, you're wrong. He's the Heir of Slytherin. My father says he opened the Chamber," Damian replied, annoyed.
"Grandpapa assured me that all it takes to open the Chamber is being a Parseltongue. And sure the gift is rare in Britain but will you honestly tell me that all of the Parselmouths in the world are Slytherin's heirs? That makes literally no sense," Anya rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
"Yeah, if only one magical family had the Parselmouth gene, it would have long died out," Emma added in support.
"That, that can't be true," Damian stuttered, feeling pale. His friends looked shocked and concerned.
"Well, if you don't believe me, ask your father. Go on. There is a reason why neither Grandpapa nor Uncle Yuri support him even when they're the Heads of two predominant pureblood Houses," Anya bluffed. She knew, from many unwilling trips into Yuri's mind that the man did support the supremacist ideals Tom Riddle expunged but if she could help the man be exposed to others, maybe even her uncle would be swayed. Her great-uncle, however, was wise enough to listen to his daughter and nephew and had no desire to support the fascist halfblood.
"Anya, I'm so sorry," Damian said, finally finding the strawberry blonde alone in a corner of the library.
"Talked to your father, I presume," Anya replied, feeling annoyed as she kept scribbling her homework. Usually she would work on this in her parents' dining room but she needed some reference materials that she wasn't allowed to take out.
"I um, I haven't yet. I did send a letter asking for a meeting but… well, my behaviour lately… I shouldn't have been so rude about Severus or Lily or to you for hanging out with the Puffs," he sighed, trying to be honestly apologetic. Although he would never feel particularly warm about Puffs or Gryffs or muggleborns, he didn't want to antagonise her any longer.
Anya gave him a long, hard stare and if Damian didn't know better, he could've sworn she was reading his mind.
"So you're apologising to appease me," Anya said, disgusted and turned to her homework.
"Anya, I… what?" Damian said, truly unable to find the words in his shock. She really could read his very soul.
"Damian, I really can't do this right now," Anya said, eyes seeming tired and weary and remarkably sad. It struck his heart.
"Thank you for trying though," she added with a weary smile and went back to work. He felt himself become a ball of anxiety and confusion and took off, hoping to figure something out.
"So it's true, father?" Damian asked. His father had called him and Demetrius home to Eden Hall, a rare occurrence during the school year for them. "It has all been convoluted lies?"
"Yes, it appears so," Donovan Desmond sighed. The moment he had found out that the man he had supported had been no more than a filthy mudblood had made his blood boil. He would make the liar pay.
"What?!" Demetrius asked, shocked. Damian had explained the situation, rather reluctantly, when their father called them home.
"Yes, well, it appears that Riddle is nothing more than a disgusting, filthy halfblood. Even if he is half a Gaunt, that could never make up for a muggle father," Donovan spat, "Apparently his whore of a mother even had to give the mudblood a love potion so he would sleep with her. No wonder she couldn't get a proper wizard when even mudbloods wouldn't look her way. She couldn't even get one that was magical. The inbreeding must have really gotten to them!"
Damian stared at his father, horrified at his language. Although he was accustomed to the blood purity speales, he had never heard the man be so coarse when speaking. A terrified thought crossed his mind, for once he was scared of what his father, possibly even his brother, could do to Anya if they disapproved of her quarter of muggleborn blood.
"There is nothing to it now. We will have to publicly dissent our support and I will have to make sure that the Desmonds can create our own true, blood purity campaign so the other Lords and Ladies may support us instead," Donovan said.
"Will that be enough father? Should we not get more support before?" Demetrius asked, already calculating allies in his head.
"Well, we already have the Blackbells thanks to your aunt and the Notts thanks to your mother. I'm currently finishing drafting your marriage contract to Posy Parkinson and that will add an ally to our list," Donovan replied.
"What? Not Posy! She's truly the flightiest thing ever and has nothing in her head. Can't you arrange something with Diana Greengrass instead?" Demetrius protested.
"The girl wants nothing to do with you and is already engaged to Johannes Avery. If you hadn't alienated all of your classmates, maybe you would have a choice," Donovan said, slow and dangerous, "As is, we're lucky Pevensie Parkinson is desperate enough to want to marry his youngest off to you. Especially after the unmitigated disaster with the Black girl."
"As for you, Damian," Donovan said, ignoring his eldest now, "I need you to get close to the Heiress of Prince and Briar. Disgusted as I am that she is a quarter mudblood, she is mostly pure, especially with the addition of her step-mother's blood adoption, and is a fount of connections. Through her, we would be connected to two of the Sacred Twenty Eight, the Blacks and Rosiers, and two rapidly rising Houses. If we want this to work, we cannot afford to be too picky unfortunately. Your task, from now on, will be to woo her."
Hearing his father's command, Damian swallowed harshly. Unsure if his "approval" was better than his outright disdain.
"Uncle Don really said that?" Becky asked her favourite cousin. As she had the unfortunate luck of being the only Desmond girl in their generation, and her Blackbell female cousins were either considerably older or considerably younger, she was stuck mostly around boys. Of the whole lot, Damian was the most decent one.
"Yes and I don't know what to do," Damian replied, truly miserable. He had managed to sneak into the Ravenclaw tower so that he could speak freely with the one person's whose advice he could truly believe and count on.
"You have to tell her, D," Becky replied, sagely, "You told me you actually fessed up and told Anya you liked her and she clearly really likes you too. But you've been a jerk lately and apparently, Emma says her Occlumency lessons aren't going well. You know Anya isn't like most of us purebloods. She wears her heart on a sleeve and is an open book. Having to hide who she is must be hard on her."
"Is that why she's always so tired lately?" Damian asked, worrying his lip.
"Yeah, and your rude attitude towards her cousin and friends isn't helping," Becky added.
"But they're halfbloods and muggleborns and cry-baby Hufflepuffs and idiotic Gryffindors," Damian protested, shocked.
"So what? You don't have to like or even respect them but even your dad knows how to pretend to be decent to them. Act tolerant and civil, that's all you have to do. If Uncle Don really wants to win the fight against Riddle, he's gonna need to look like the more magnanimous choice. Like he is tolerant of the whole lot so that you can make Riddle the common enemy. Not pure enough for the purebloods that he lied to and tricked, and so unspeakably awful to the halfbloods and muggleborns that he was willing to betray his own self for the glory and power," Becky said.
"When did you turn so wise?" Damian said after processing her words.
"I've always been, idiot. I'm a Ravenclaw. You Slytherins really need to get out of yourselves sometimes or that ego will drown you," Becky replied with an eye roll.
"Please Anya, I really need to talk to you," Damian nearly begged as he followed the girl on her way to the owlery. "I know I'm the last person you want to talk to right now, but this is really important."
Noting the urgency in his voice, Anya paused and said, "You have two minutes."
"I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry if I've been a jerk but you have to understand that my parents raised me to think I'm superior to everyone. And I just, I really don't like Severus. He's always so mean to you for no good reason and he's only nice to Lily and Aurora. And like, I don't hate Lily, she's a little much like all Gryffindors but she's nice enough and leagues better than Sirius Black and his motley crew. And I just think that Severus should treat you more like Regulus or Lily do. I mean, they almost worship the ground you walk on but he’s just as bad as Sirius. And I’m making a mess of this…” Damian suddenly stopped himself and tried to gather his thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, he tried again, “Anya. I know I can be an idiot and a jerk. I know my attitude towards those who you consider family and friends has hurt you. I am truly sorry. And I know I’m not even worthy of your time, but I just wanted to ask for your forgiveness and… I wanted to warn you. You were right, Riddle is no more than a liar and my father has decided to do something about the matter. He wants to rise up and oppose Riddle, create his own Pureblood faction in the Ministry and for that he needs the support and connections of the Houses. And he wants me to get yours, to woo you into helping us. And I really, really like you Anya, so I really can’t do that.”
Anya stared at him; her mouth open in shock. She had expected another half-hearted attempt at an apology and not something so remarkably cutting and deep. Taking a deep breath, she tried to stop her racing thoughts. Meditation and self-control were still a struggle, but months of work had yielded some improvement and looking into Damian’s eyes, she suddenly felt calm, centered. Pushing a bit, she was soon in. His thoughts and feelings at the forefront. His remorse was real, his fear palpable, his affection endearing. Although clearly still not certain in his feelings about muggleborns and half-bloods, his confusion on the matter gave her hope. Pulling herself out of his mind, she looked at him with pure fondness and grabbed his hand.
“Thank you,” Anya started before clearing her throat and her thoughts, “Thank you for your honesty and your contriteness and your affection.”
Damian flushed at that. Once more, she’d seen into his very soul and he felt shy and embarrassed, “Yes well, you know…ugh.”
Anya laughed at his stumbling words. A true pearly and free laugh he hadn’t heard in a while.
“Come on, we’ll figure something out because I’m not letting you go,” she said, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers, she pulled him with her towards the owlery. No matter what, she would not let go of him, not when there was hope. Dazed, Damian nodded and followed.