The air around the room was heavy and the awkwardness made time stand still. Dahlia stayed at the foot of the stairs, unsure what she ought to do. Arthur quickly shooed the children outside and was met with protestation - mostly from Ron, of course. Arthur paid him no mind as he herded them like farm stock out the door.
โGo and practice for a while. No, go on.โ
Molly stood and gestured toward the couch. โHave a seat, dearie. I'll bring you some food. You must be famished.โ
โPlease, don't trouble yourself.โ Dahlia said, her voice raspy. That only added to her embarrassment. Her own body betraying her pride in such a way. She cleared her throat as quietly as she could.
โNonsense. You won't heal up on an empty stomach, now, will you?โ It seemed Dahlia's protest was to be ignored as well as Molly shuffled off toward what she assumed to be the kitchen. Not wanting to be rude and deny her hosts a second time, she remained quiet.
โHow are you feeling, Miss Archdaen?โ asked the Headmaster once Dahlia had perched herself on the couch. He noted that she'd shut her eyes as she sat, presumably from discomfort. That didn't stop her rigid posture, however.
โAs well as I can,โ she answered plainly. She knew the pleasantries were only to pave the way for more uncomfortable questions and conversations to come. โThank you all for your aid. I owe you a great deal that I'm not certain I can repay.โ
Arthur gave her a gentle smile before he replied, โnonsense. We Weasley's will always help a person in need.โ
Dahlia gave him a hum of acknowledgment before her attention was drawn by Professor Dumbledore, โMiss Archdaen, if you please, will you enlighten us on what happened to you? And, moreover, how you came to be here?โ
Dahlia had opened her mouth to answer when Molly returned, holding a tray that she set on the table in front of the young witch. On it was a bowl of what looked to be vegetable soup, bread, and a glass of water. Dahlia thanked her but didn't dig in yet despite the hunger that arose within her at the smell of the food.
โI was attacked, and I apparated here afterward.โ She knew her reply was insufficient, so she continued. โI'm not certain how I came here, specifically. I did not know where here even was.โ She paused for a moment to survey the faces in the room. They were curious, of course. Dahlia feared she could not give an answer that would appease them. โI've had dreams for months now โ dreams where I'm in peril, and then I'm somewhere safe. I could always see the house - this house - so clearly. A light in the doorway, and the knowledge that all would be well if I just went inside.โ
Albus nodded his head, intrigued. โAnd in these dreams, you never know whose home it is you're going to?โ
โNever. I wasn't certain that anyone lived here at all until I woke up.โ
Another pause. Dahlia knew where the conversation was headed next, and waited while the Headmaster figured out how to word what he wished to ask. โAnd about your... attack. Do you know who did this to you?โ
โYes, I do.โ
โForgive me, dearie, but... was โ well, was it a werewolf?โ Molly asked, recalling the wounds on Dahlia's back.
โOne of them was, yes.โ
Molly looked taken aback by Dahlia's reply. 'One of them?'
Knowing it was no use trying to evade giving a straightforward answer, Dahlia sighed and recalled the night before. She had no intention of giving them more information than what was necessary, however she had no interest in baiting them to ask her for more clarification. But first, she had to ask them, โwhat will happen if I tell you of the events leading to my appearance here?โ While they fumbled for a response, Dahlia continued, โit's just... I don't want anything that I say to make its way to the Ministry of Magic. I'd rather it not leave the room at all, truthfully.โ
Arthur chimed in then, โbut โ I'm sorry, but your father works at the Ministry.โ
โYes, he does.โ Her reply was met with a look of bewilderment, which was soon wiped away by understanding tinged with pity.
โAnything you tell us will only be used in deciding how to move forward, Miss Archdaen. You have my word,โ Dumbledore replied with finality. Dahlia found it interesting that even though they were now grown with their own families (save for Snape,) they still seemed to follow the guidance of their old Headmaster.
Dahlia took a moment to drink some of the water that had been provided for her and her dry throat thanked her for it. She wasn't sure if she'd felt so thirsty before in her life. โMy parents threw a party last night,โ she began as she set the glass back down. โA small get together to celebrate my betrothal.โ
โBetrothal?โ Molly blurted out, surprised. The girl was the same age as her Ron, if her memory served her right. Too young for an engagement, she thought. She hadn't even graduated school yet.
Dahlia nodded before she continued, โat the end of the evening a smaller group of guests remained. It seemed my parents intended it to not only be an engagement for marriage, but also the time that I should receive the Dark Mark.โ
The Weasley's were visibly taken aback. There had been rumors that the Archdaen's were Death Eaters but insofar they'd managed to keep their names out of the known ranks. The admission, so openly from their only child, was not what they had expected to hear.
โI refused, and it was their view that I ought to be made to take it. That's when I ran. While I was trying to leave is when I became injured.โ
โYour injuries,โ Snape spoke to her for the first time, โappeared to be superficial. Are there any that might not have been seen?โ
โI believe I have a fracture in my rib, and perhaps a sprain in my wrist. Both are in pain but neither are broken.โ
Wordlessly, he rifled through his bag and handed to her another mending potion. She took it quickly, rinsing away the bitter taste by finishing off her water. She hissed slightly as the potion went to work to mend her bones โ snapping them back in place and joining them together properly.
โYour parents did this?โ Molly asked, quietly.
โMy father, yes. He wasn't alone in my pursuit, but he did lead it.โ
Arthur reached out to grab Molly's hand and give it a squeeze. How anyone could dream of harming, or purposefully letting harm come to their own children was something he could not fathom. And Molly was clearly upset. Tears welled in her eyes that she tried to hide from the poor girl. She wasn't doing a great job of it.
โI am sorry this happened to you, Miss Archdaen. If you do not wish to involve magical law enforcement, what would you prefer to do?โ
Dahlia hadn't thought of her next steps. All she had known up until she awoke was to get away. From there she had no ideas. Anywhere she could go, they would find her. She would not be safe with friends or family. In leaving her home she became completely alone.
โI do not think it would be wise for me to return to school after the break. They will find out that I'm there. And none should be made aware of my whereabouts.โ
โWhere shall you go?โ asked Arthur, earnestly.
Dahlia had nothing. Her name would get her caught and all she'd had when she left were the clothes on her back and a couple of wands. She attempted to give him a reassuring smile, though she wasn't sure that she was convincing as her own anxiety began to build. โI will find somewhere.โ
The Weasley's looked between each other and spoke without words. Neither one was willing to let this girl go off on her own. Molly gave Arthur a nod, which he promptly returned. โNonsense,โ he began, โyou'll stay here.โ
For the first time all morning they saw an expression form on Dahlia's face โ genuine surprise. Her eyebrows rose and her lips parted slightly. She composed herself quickly before she spoke. โI couldn't possibly. You've already done more than I could ask to aid me. If you'll bring my clothes to me, I'll leave at once.โ
โYou'll do no such thing,โ said Molly. โNo one will be looking for you here. And the house gets so quiet when the children are off to school. I could use the company.โ
Dahlia felt a painful pang in her chest. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't bring herself to. Not in front of them. Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest, writhing in agony that she could not express. Her jaw clenched and she squeezed her fists together to steel herself. โI don't know what to say.โ
โYou've been dealt many hands at once. I think it's best if we let you sit and think for a while โ and enjoy your lunch. Arthur, Molly, Severus. Let us adjourn to the dining room to allow Miss Archdaen to breathe.โ
โI will take my leave. I believe my services are no longer required,โ Severus replied before he stood. He gave Dahlia a nod of acknowledgment and looked to the Headmaster, who granted him the leave he desired. Snape bid a very quick farewell before he left โ through the back so as not to alert the children that things inside had shifted.
The other three went into the next room, with Arthur and Molly both encouraging Dahlia to eat up. Molly returned very quickly to provide Dahlia more to drink, but then left again after asking if she needed anything else. The room fell quiet once Dahlia was alone. She could hear the whoops and hollers from the others outside. They were playing a game on their brooms. She could hear voices from the other room, but they were too low to understand the words being spoken. She was, essentially, alone with her thoughts.
She reached for the bowl of soup and found herself shaky. Her mind was reeling so quickly that it was as if no thoughts could form at all. She ate the food provided without realizing she'd done so โ lost in a hazy swirl of uncertainty. The initial flood of gratitude and joy that almost brought her to tears was being replaced by dread. Was she really meant to stay with these people? She knew the children from school, sure, but she had encountered the adult Weasleys a handful of times at best. She knew them moreso by name than by face. And now she was to live with them? How long would that last? And what was she to do after that? Her whole life had been planned and now she had no certainty of anything beyond the fact that she was still alive.
Dahlia tried to settle her nerves by reminding herself that she had always found a solution to anything before her and that her own intuition had been a helpful guide all her life. She would not have been lead here if it were not the right place for her to be.
That did little. She hugged her arms around herself, squeezing to try to bring herself some comfort. Her eyes started darting around the room of their own accord. She did not know this house. She did not know these people. What would they do with her? Surely their goodwill would not be unending. Surely they would demand a payment of sorts. Or perhaps they'd turn her over to her family, and she would be forced to join them. She wanted to leave. She didn't know where she could possibly go that wasn't too familiar to her. She'd been so few places that had no tie to her family. She needed to get out โ to run away before they decided her fate.
โMiss Archdaen?โ Dumbledore's voice broke Dahlia from her spiral. She relinquished the tight hold she'd had on herself and, embarrassingly, realized that she'd been raking her nails across her arms. She loosened her grip, but did not move her hands lest her fretting wounds show. โI thought you and I should have a talk together before anything is decided.โ
Dahlia straightened her back and watched as the Headmaster re-entered the room and sat himself across from her.
โI would like to offer you something to ease your mind, if I can. That no matter what you decide today, nothing is in finality. If you choose to remain with the Weasley's for now but wish to leave later, there are other safe houses that you can be taken to.โ
'Safe for who?' she thought. Perhaps this would offer reassurance to someone with which Dumbledore was very close to or familiar. She trusted him the same amount as any teacher โ no more, and no less. What good was a safe house when she wasn't even certain she were safe in present company?
โAnd if that is not your desire, they will understand if you leave. It is not for any of us to decide for you and you do not owe anyone here an explanation of your choice. Whatever you wish to do, you have the support of myself and the Weasley's. They were quite serious in their offer for you to stay here.โ
Dahlia turned her attention to a photo on the wall. All of the Weasley's together, smiling, possibly on holiday. At least she thought it might be all of them. There were several heads of red hair.
โArrangements have been made, should you accept, to make you as comfortable as possible. Arthur and Molly would take you to find anything you might need from the shops. And while you do not currently feel safe returning to the school, I believe we can find a way to allow you to continue classes if you wish.โ
The mention of continuing her education brought Dahlia's focus back to Dumbledore. She mulled it over for a moment. With all of her overthinking in her brief time alone, she decided to go with her gut. Whatever came to her now would be her guidance.
โThat would be lovely. Thank you, Professor.โ
Albus gave her a cheerful grin. โAm I to take that as your agreement to stay here, Miss Archdaen?โ
โYes, Professor.โ
โThe Weasley's will be pleased. They were quite worried for your safety, you know. As am I.โ Dumbledore could tell that his words meant very little to her. He understood, though he still wished to express it anyway. Perhaps one day she would hear them again with a more trusting ear. โAnd should you need anything, you are always welcome to write to me.โ
Dahlia turned again to the photograph on the wall. There was a portrait of herself with her parents hanging in their home. It was much more formal โ and larger than the one she were looking at.
โProfessor?โ
โYes, Miss Archdaen?โ
โDo you know if they found my wand?โ
โAh! Yes, of course. Arthur was holding onto it. It'll be returned to you at once. If you are ready, I believe you ought to tell them of your choice yourself.โ
โThank you.โ
Albus excused himself to the other room and returned with the elder Weasley's in tow. Arthur handed Dahlia her wand, and she thanked him quietly. She felt more at ease the moment the instrument were in her hands. Having nowhere to tuck it, she held it in her lap. She unconsciously began to pick at the wood, her nails scraping against the twirling design carved at the handle.
โSo, will we be setting a place for you at our table?โ Arthur asked, placing his arm around Molly's shoulders.
Dahlia did not allow herself time to doubt her decision or to change her mind. โYes, if it's truly agreeable with you.โ
โOf course, dearie. We'd be happy to have you,โ replied Molly.
The Weasley's went outside to inform their children of the new addition. Albus remained with Dahlia. She'd started to go numb. She knew she ought to feel relieved, perhaps even elated, that she had somewhere to stay. But she couldn't bring herself to feel anything at all. Dumbledore was speaking to her โ telling her a story of his youth. She could hardly hold focus on his words, though she watched him as if she were listening. Her thoughts drifted to the evening before; the chaos and her heart pounding in her chest as she ran from her home. She could practically feel the slash of claw-like fingernails against her back, scarring her for the rest of her life.
The door opening stopped the memory from replaying in her head. Dahlia turned her head toward the sound but did not meet the eyes of anyone who came in. As they filed into the room one after the other, she felt more and more like the stranger that she was. She could feel the glare of the younger boys, reminding her that to some she were an unwanted pest. Perhaps it were better to go nowhere than to stay here, after all.
Albus stood to say his farewell's to the group, and offer them a piece of wisdom. At least, Dahlia assumed that's what he was doing. His voice was still fuzzy, but she'd had to sit through his speeches many times throughout her school years. Her jaw was clenched and when he addressed her directly, she gave him a quick nod but did not speak. As if sensing her discomfort, he came to place a hand on her shoulder.
โRemember, Miss Archdaen. Should you need anything, I am only an owl away.โ
She couldn't recall another time she'd seen him this close before. She could make out the lines on his face and smell the scent of something sweet wafting gently off of him. She'd never noticed that his eyes were blue.
โThank you, Professor.โ
He gave her shoulder a squeeze, then a wave to the rest before he left. Dahlia almost missed his company the moment it was gone and the air fell silent. She had become accustomed to his presence there with her in the brief time she'd been in the Weasley's home. A buffer between her and them, as it were. Now all that remained was the family, and their dear friend Harry. She met his eye and neither could read the expression of the other. It was Harry who turned away first โ asking Ron if he wanted to go and play a game of chess. Ron, whose eyes could have bored holes through Dahlia's head, agreed sourly.
โDon't mind ickle Ronniekins,โ said George, who came to join Dahlia on the couch.
โYeah, it's been a few hours since he ate. He gets grumpy when he's hungry,โ added Fred, who sat at her other side.
Dahlia gave them each a polite smile, but all she could think was that she'd forgotten their names. She recalled they were both one syllable. Surely they'd come to her again. Or, she hoped, someone would address them and the problem would resolve itself.
โGinny, dear, why don't you find Dahlia something to wear? I'm going to go run a bath.โ Molly offered the girl's clothes and Dahlia got the impression that there would be no argument. Having been in one position for some time, Dahlia had almost forgotten the pain of the open wounds on her back. As she stood, she grit her teeth and shut her eyes to will it away. She tried to make no outward gesture of her pain, but she did note that one of the twins moved forward as if he were going to assist her. She was thankful that she was up before he could.
Dahlia followed Molly back up the stairs. She held onto the rail as she went, gripping it like she might fall over without it. She very well could have. She felt, suddenly, very tired. She could already hear whispering down below. Regret sunk further in, becoming a part of her.
Molly was reciting a checklist to herself out loud, and Dahlia feigned attention. She left the room and returned a time or two โ bringing with her a hairbrush and the clothes that Ginny had procured. The water looked so welcoming once the tub was full. Remembering something suddenly, Molly left again. Her absence was longer this time, and Dahlia set the things she'd been given on a nearby counter. It was potions that Mrs. Weasly returned with. She added a few into the water, giving Dahlia a warm smile. โThis should ease the pain, dearie. Now, the wrapping on your back will need to be redone once you've finished. I'll be in my room, just down the hall. Take all the time you need. Call for me when you're ready.โ
Dahlia nodded and thanked the older witch before she was left alone. She hadn't seen herself since the night before. The last time she'd looked upon her reflection, she had been pristine; makeup done and hair slicked down neatly. She wondered where her clothing and jewelry had gone. She'd ask about that later. Now she stood before the oval mirror that hung against the wall. A thick gilded rim swirled around it in a design of vines and leaves. Her hair was ratty and disheveled. Mascara was smudged beneath her eyes, and the slightest remnant of smudged lipstick was left behind around her mouth. Her right eye had a pool of red spreading from her iris out. She leaned in closer to examine it and found that the skin around was a bit swollen and kissed purple. She removed the nightgown, wincing slightly. A dull ache was returning to her body. Though her injuries were healed, that didn't stop soreness from breaking through as the potions began to wear off.
Her right shoulder was every shade of red and violet. Dahlia instinctively reached up to press on the bruise and was thankful for whatever amount of magic remained to keep her from feeling the self inflicted pain. Her ribs were the same. She turned and tried to examine her leg. The wound was sealed closed. There was a thin line of pink where it had been, and remnants of dried, crusted blood here and there. She reached her arms back, feeling for the bandages that covered the worst of her remaining injuries. She absentmindedly ran her hand over the fabric for a moment before using her wand to get it off. She held the stained material in her hands. Her blood had dried into four slivers; the claws that had reached her. She ran her thumb over it before setting it aside. She tried to turn so that she could see the damage. Doing so was painful and didn't help her much.
After giving up on that venture, she set to combing through her hair. Then, at last, she sunk into the bath. When the water hit her back, she winced initially. It burned, briefly, and then she adjusted as the potions in the water helped to alleviate the discomfort. She dipped her head beneath the surface, relishing in the warmth. A nearby shelf provided her with various soaps, and Mrs. Weasley had left a clean rag for her.
It felt like heaven to be alone, in the quiet calm of the bath as she gently scrubbed away the dirt and oil. She was able to lean back and enjoy the warmth of the water for a while, closing her eyes and trying to relax. Flashes of the night before invaded her thoughts and she pushed them away for as long as she could. After a time, she resigned herself to another quick scrub down before she exited the water.
The clothes she was given were soft enough; a skirt with a stretchy waist band that might've hung loosely on Ginny, but formed tightly to Dahlia's hips. The top was similar; likely more giving to Ginny's smaller frame. She used a spell to alter the items, โmulticorfors.โ The items fit more comfortably then. She'd return them back to the way they were another time. At least the items matched โ solid green turtleneck over floral.
Dahlia brushed her hair once more, drying it with her wand, before opening the door to call for Mrs. Weasley. The older woman was there in a hurry with fresh cloth bandages to cover Dahlia's open wounds.
โThere. That's better isn't it?โ
โYes, thank you, Mrs. Weasley.โ
Molly lead Dahlia back downstairs. The twins were still in the living room, along with Arthur.
โCare for some tea, Dahlia?โ asked Molly as she went to turn on the radio.
โSure. Thank you.โ The young witch was unsure what she ought to do, so she remained standing at the foot of the stairs.
โWell, go on, sit, sit!โ said Molly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Typically, Dahlia would expect to be given direction on where she were allowed to be and what she ought to be doing. It didn't seem the Weasley house were run in the same manner.
She was between the twins again. Right away they started speaking to her jovially โ like they'd been friends for years. Mrs. Weasley returned with tea for all and set to knitting in her chair. Arthur was reading the newspaper for the day. While the scene was homey and inviting, Dahlia couldn't help the uneasy feeling that was creeping all over her. She didn't have time to dwell as she was quickly roped into a card game with the twins, who thankfully said each other's names.
When the sun shone through their windows and assaulted their eyes with its intense rays, nearly all in the Weasley household were awoken. Ginny grumbled and covered her head, curling up into herself. Once she remembered that she wasn't alone, however, she quickly stood to head downstairs. Fred and George each flipped over to avoid the light, determined to remain in bed longer. Harry's eyes opened and he looked around, nostrils flared like a madman. Arthur found Molly's hand in the covers and brought it to his lips, giving it a feather light kiss. That lightened her mood significantly, and she stood for the restroom.
Ron was the last to wake up. He yawned widely, like a lion, and stretched his arms over his head. He'd found sleep an elusive beast; his mind wandering to, by his consideration, their unwelcome house guest.
โYou still here, Harry? Didn't get snatched up by Death Eaters, then?โ
Harry, after putting on his glasses so that Ron didn't look like a smudged water color painting, shot Ron an unreadable look. He had conflicting feelings about the night before. He wanted to reply sardonically, but his mind was blank. All he could think of was the blood, and the indescribable feeling of seeing the girl who'd joined in on bullying himself and his friends looking to be on the verge of death. He was worried about her, yet angry that she were there at all. โNo, no snatching. Unless we're both dreaming right now.โ
After wasting as much time as they could, they all trudged lazily downstairs. Molly, her hair in a tangled mess, looked to the twins. โBoys, go ahead and get breakfast going.โ
Fred and George, looking the most neat of all, acquiesced and went together into the kitchen. The clanking sound of pots and pans ensued, following by the two jabbering at each other about who would do what.
Meanwhile, Arthur prepared himself to meet with Dumbledore. He changed quickly into a pair of faded gray slacks and an old blue pullover. He had a warm wool jacket around himself, and brown shoes that didn't quite match anything else he had on. His spectacles were neatly on his nose, and he went into the fireplace. โBack by breakfast,โ he said cheerfully before he disappeared in a swirl of green smoke.
โRon, I want you to write to Bill to let him know not to come until Monday.โ said Molly.
Ron murmured to himself and marched over to a cabinet, withdrawing a quill, ink bottle, and parchment, then drug himself to the table at the center of the room, plopping down on the floor with his legs spread out far and his shoulders slumped over.
โI'm done,โ Ron called after a suspiciously brief time of scribbling. Molly picked up his letter and examined it.
'Bill,
Mum says to come Monday. There's a bloody Death Eater in the house.
Cheers,
Ron'
Molly frowned and looked down at her son. โRon.โ
โWhat?โ he asked grumpily.
โWrite it again.โ
In a state of dramatics, Ron grabbed a new piece of parchment with fervor and set it down roughly. When he reached for the ink, he did so with too much effort, knocking the bottle over. It lolled back and forth on the table, spilling its contents into a pool that slowly made its way to the edge. It dripped onto Ron's pants, sure to stain both them and his skin.
โRon, clean it up!โ cried Molly.
Ron rolled his head back, staring miserably at the ceiling as he pushed himself off of the ground. He went to the pantry the room over to find a towel. He drug his feet with slouched shoulders, his slippers scratching against the floor. He did the table first, swirling the towel around lazily until it was mostly clean, then knelt down to the floor. He twirled the rag, putting as little effort into the action as possible. It dyed the wood, but he thought it looked good enough. When he was satisfied with his work, Ron went back into the other room, using his backside to open the door, and tossed the rag in the waste basket. After that, he squished himself between the twins to wash the stains from his hands.
โI'm going to change.โ said Ron, not to anyone in particular.
He marched pathetically up the stairs and into the room he and Harry shared. He rifled through his drawers to try and find a clean pair of pants, but found nothing. All of his had been wadded up into a corner the day before, and taken down to the laundry bin. He let his head hit the top of the dresser with a thud. โCome on.โ
He looked for an alternative, and decided he only had one option; Harry's pajamas. He'd wear them until his were clean. The pair he found were dark plaid and about four inches too short. He felt like Neville, with his matching pants and shirt that were both just a touch too small. Ron hardly even bothered to put all of Harry's things back into his bag. He'd drug everything out to find the garment and laid it all messily onto his friend's bed. He used force shoving everything back in. 'I hate today.' he thought to himself, dropping the bag onto the floor.
As he made his way back to the living room, Ron paused at Ginny's room to take a peak inside. He could see her on Ginny's bed โ the witch was still sleeping. He stared at the unmoving lump for a moment. He didn't know what he was waiting for โ what he was watching. Maybe for a sign of life? Perhaps he wanted her to attack. He wanted it to be a ruse โ an excuse to hex her for the nasty things she'd said and done. No, he knew that wasn't true. He didn't want to harm her. Not right now, anyway. He couldn't bare to think on it any longer, and quickly closed the door. He looked around for something to place in front of it. An alarm system, if you will. He found it in a brown vase covered in flowers of different colors that was held on the wall by a shelf, and placed it as close to the door as he could get it.
When he came back down, Ginny snickered at him. โNice pajamas.โ
Ron glared at her, then went to retrieve a new ink bottle. He plopped down beside Harry and started working on his new letter. The quill scratched the parchment roughly, as if he were in a hurry to send an S.O.S. overseas.
โI'm done!โ he called to his mother.
She came and lifted it up from the table, looking down at Ron and shaking her head.
'Bill,
Mum asked me to tell you to wait until Monday to come over. We got a surprise last night. You'll see when you get here.
Cheers,
Ron'
โBetter?โ
โIt'll do.โ
Ron sealed up the letter and gave it to Pig, not trusting the older Errol. Bill wasn't set to arrive until late afternoon, so it would most likely reach him in time. Ron stretched his arms over his head and could feel the draft on his lower calves. He tried pulling the borrowed pants down as much as possible, but it didn't help much. They were so low it was almost offensive, and still the skin over his ankles was exposed.
โAre those my pajamas?โ asked Harry.
Ron didn't answer, and Harry couldn't stop himself from chuckling.
Satisfied that what was taken care of could be, Molly headed upstairs to check on the girl. She kicked the vase when she opened the door, staring down at it in confusion. โWhat on earth?โ She returned it to its spot on the shelf and headed inside.
Molly didn't want to disturb her too much. She knew that her body would likely need a lot of rest. She was alive, and breathing steadily. Her brow was furrowed in her sleep, and she clutched onto the covers as if they'd float away if she didn't. Molly placed a gentle hand on her head, lightly running it back and forth to soothe her as she'd done so many times with her own children. โThere, there. It's only dreams.โ Molly watched as her face settled and her grip loosened before she left, closing the door feather-light.
After some time, a call came from the kitchen. โBreakfast is done.โ
The children all scurried to grab a plate. The smell inside was... overwhelming, to say the least. Spices, herbs, cooking oil, something burnt, and the sickly sweet scent of something rotten all blended together and assaulted their nostrils.
When Molly got in, they all moved aside to let her get the first serving. Toast, eggs, bacon, and beans were at their disposal and they were all in need of the nourishment. In the sink, there were pans and plates piled high. The things that had been made and discarded, it seemed.
โShould we wait for dad to get back?โ asked Ginny.
โNo, dear. I don't know when that'll be.โ
After their plates were prepared, they sat themselves down at the table and dove in. The only sound that filled the room was the scraping of utensils and the gulping of juice.
When they were done, the dishes washed themselves in the sink while the others covered the remaining foods to keep them fresh until Arthur's return.
While they waited, Molly sat down to knit and listen to the radio, Ginny, Fred, and George went outside so that Ginny could practice some Quidditch moves, and the boys went into their room to have a discussion about the girl sleeping close by.
โDahlia Archdaen....โ began Ron. โI can't believe Ginny slept in the same room as her.โ
โI know. She's the one that offered it, too.โ said Harry.
โI mean, has she forgotten everything Dahlia's done? Might as well let Malfoy in there.โ
Harry was reminded of something he'd been meaning to talk to Ron about. Actually, he meant to speak with a lot of people over the subject. โSpeaking of Malfoy....โ
โYou're sure you heard Snape talking to Malfoy?โ asked Ron after Harry had recounted the conversation he'd overheard after Slughorn's party.
โIf you ask me that again, Ron, I'll-โ
โI'm only checking!โ
โYes, Snape was offering to help Malfoy.โ said Harry, dully. โHe said he'd promised Malfoy's mother, made an Unbreakable Oath or something.โ
โD'you mean an Unbreakable Vow?โ asked Ron, stunned. โNah, it couldn't be.โ
โYes, I'm sure. Why, what's it do?โ
โIt's just... you can't break an Unbreakable Vow.โ said Ron.
โFunnily enough, I'd worked that part out on my own. What happens if you do break it?โ
โYou die.โ Ron said flatly. He then went into a story about how Fred and George had tried to get him to make one when he was very small, and when Arthur had caught them, he'd been โas angry as Mum,โ according to Ron.
โDo you think she knows? Dahlia, I mean - what Malfoy's up to?โ asked Ron.
โMaybe. I think I need to ask her, anyway.โ said Harry.
โYeah that'll go over smoothly.โ
โIt's worth trying. She does owe us a lot. I'm going to talk to your dad first and see what he thinks.โ Of course, Harry knew that it was likely Arthur would defend Snape, saying that he was offering help as a ruse to get information. But he still had to try.
โEither way, I've got your back, Harry. I'll ask her with you.โ
โI don't think that'd be a good idea, Ron.โ
โWhy not?โ asked Ron, offended.
Harry sighed and picked that moment to bathe himself and get dressed, leaving Ron to yell at him as he left the room, โOh so now you're not gonna answer me, are you?โ
Around eleven thirty, Arthur emerged from the fireplace tailed by Dumbeldore, and to Molly's surprise, Snape as well. He carried with him a handsome black leather case that clanked lightly when he walked.
From upstairs, Harry and Ron could hear the arrival of their headmaster and quickly jogged down. Everyone that remained inside throughout the morning had gotten themselves ready for the day; bathing, dressing, brushing their teeth and hair. But when the twins and Ginny came inside, they were dirty and breathing heavily. They'd been outside all morning.
โGood morning, Molly, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Fred, George. Good to see you all.โ said Dumbledore, taking a moment to look at each of them, smiling happily.
โGood morning, Professor.โ They said in unison, completely on accident.
Harry caught sight of Snape and furrowed his brow. He'd have to wait for him to leave before he could say anything to Arthur; and if he and Dumbledore left at the same time, he'd have no chance of speaking to the Headmaster until he returned to school.
โProfessor Snape has brought with him a few potions that should help to coax the young lady awake. Molly, would you take him to see her?โ
โYes, of course.โ she sat down her knitting and gestured for Severus to follow her. He kept his eyes forward and marched with straight posture up the stairs.
โWhile we wait, I hope you don't mind if I have a seat.โ
โOf course not. Go ahead.โ said Arthur.
โDad, there's some breakfast in the kitchen.โ
โThank you, Fred.โ
โWould you like a cup of tea, Professor?โ asked Ginny.
โWhy, yes. That'd be delightful. And some sugar, if you please.โ
โDo you know what happened to her, Severus?โ asked Molly.
โNo.โ
Snape had sat himself down on the bed and with Molly's help, turned Dahlia onto her back. He worked more gently than Molly expected to ease the potions down her bruised throat. One to restore her blood loss, one for pain, and one to assist the healing.
โIs that it, then?โ
โFor now.โ
โShe had... well, she had some wounds on her back and I'm worried she might have some internal issues.โ
Severus bent down to dig through his wares, plucking an orange looking vial from the case. He guided that one down, then replaced it back with the others.
โIf she isn't internally wounded, she's going to have cotton mouth for the rest of the day.โ said Snape blandly. โAnything else will have to wait until she's awake.โ Severus was not going to perform a full examination on a sleeping girl. If anything were broken, it would be evident soon enough. He stood, and the two went back downstairs.
โShe'll be awake within the hour.โ said Snape as they entered the living room.
โWhat'll we do until then?โ asked Arthur.
โYou'll have to wait.โ
And wait they did. The entire party sat awkwardly quiet together. If it weren't for the radio, they'd be able to hear the grass grow.
After a while, Molly went into the kitchen to make lunch. She even prepared enough for Snape, Dumbeldore, and Dahlia for when she woke. The eating silence was almost worse than the sitting silence, and all except for Snape crowded into the dining room.
โHow is your business going, Fred?โ asked Dumbledore. โI hope with our recent outbreak of boils, your sales don't suffer, George.โ He looked through his glasses at the two, his eyes twinkling knowingly.
The twins grinned. โYeah, it's going alright.โ said Fred.
โAnd that's too bad about the boils. It's a good thing our dear Ron hasn't suffered form them.โ
โYeah, we don't know anything about them.โ
โNothing at all.
โWe sell party gags mostly. Punching telescopes,โ
โSpell checking quills,โ
โLove potions,โ
โPygmy puffs,โ
โPuking pastilles,โ added Dumbledore.
โPuking pastilles,โ They each went silent, and their cheeks flushed.
โActually, I've quite enjoyed them. The taste is superb, although the after effect is less than desirable.โ
After they were done, Molly set aside two plates of food; one for Dahlia and one for Snape, too, if he happened to change his mind. The mess was cleaned, and they went back to waiting; Molly to her knitting, Fred, George, and Ginny upstairs to clean up, and Harry and Ron to the floor, where they played a game of chess.
Upstairs, Dahlia slowly drifted back into the world. She kept her eyes shut, but she was awake. Somewhere soft, warm, and nice smelling; orchids or lilac - very light but pleasant nonetheless. She knew it wasn't where she'd left the night before. She could see the sun shining through her lids and wondered how long she'd been asleep. Was it through an entire day? Or had she really woken up the next morning? That would only be possible if they'd used strong potions. But that meant she was inside a magical household. If that were true, she'd be incredibly thankful. She was worried she might've ended up with Muggles, and they would discard her wand thinking that it was just a stick.
She opened her eyes slowly, allowing herself time to adjust to the light; and time between being so comfortable to the questions that were soon to come. She stretched her limbs a little at a time so as not to cause herself distress, and sat up slowly while moving the covers aside. Every part of her ached, though it wasn't nearly as bad as she might've thought.
Dahlia looked around the room. Posters hung on the walls, one of the Hollyhead Harpies. She smiled to herself. This was definitely a magical household. But whose was it? By the look of it, the room belonged to a young girl. Possibly around her age. A dark wood dresser with a mirror over it was settled nearly directly across from her, a matching side table beside a bed that sat to her left with a lovely white candelabra resting atop it, knickknacks and jewelry were scattered here and there, and on the dresser was a fluffy pink ball rolling around of its own accord. It was a cute room, much different from her own. She could see the door to a closet to her right. Leaning against it was a broomstick. It was tidy, organized, easy to move around in. Much different from her own room at home; a large and opulent space, filled with sterile elegance. Everything had a place; nothing mismatched. Even her clothing was placed evenly spaced in her closet. This room looked lived in. Though it was clean, it was full of personality.
She turned to the side and set her feet on the floor, resting her hands on the bed and hunching her shoulders forward. They'd changed her clothing. Gone was her navy gown โ replaced by a cotton night dress. It was loose enough to be comfortable, but it didn't seem like it were the right size.
Dahlia stood and wobbled uneasily. She waved her arms out to catch herself, took a deep breath, then started to walk. She found that she had a limp to her left leg which didn't come as a surprise. She went to the dresser and the mirror that sat above it. She looked herself over with a grimace. At least she'd been cleaned off a bit. There was still makeup smudged beneath her eyes but she decided to leave it. It wouldn't matter to the darkened skin on the right side, and the left would grow red if she applied pressure and scrubbed the stains off. Her hair was a ratty mess, and she did her best to rake her fingers through to smooth it down.
The fluff ball rolled in front of her, squealing happily. She looked down and studied it, beady eyes meeting her own. A pygmy puff. She couldn't help but smile. It really was cute. And then it rolled too far and fell onto the floor with a squeak.
She took that moment to make her way out. She stopped at the door and held the knob, shutting her eyes. With one last squeal from the pink fluff at her feet, she opened it, slowly, and stuck her head out to get a look. She didn't see anyone coming down the hall, and could plainly hear a radio from the floor below. She tiptoed around the door and shut it even slower than she'd opened it.
She ignored the pictures on the wall. She wanted to see the person, or people, who'd saved her in person first. She walked slowly down the stairs, holding onto the railing firmly for support. Going down the steps hurt much more than walking. Although she'd been bandaged, the skin on her back was burning uncomfortably, and all around the wounded flesh was sore and throbbing. Not to mention the ache at her side that she'd felt from the moment she sat up. But she didn't slow, or turn. She stayed exactly how she was.
Closer she drew, and heard a voice talking. A man, by the sound of it; old and speaking gently. It sounded incredibly familiar and she stopped to listen in. He was telling a story, but it was hard for her to catch. She walked further and heard another voice, a boy, less familiar than the one before but still her mind attempted recognition.
'Is that... Dumbledore? Couldn't be.'
She was a little worried over who she'd face at the bottom. Would it be someone she knew? Someone she went to school with and their family? Her stomach flopped, making her nauseous.
Down to the bottom she went, then turned to see those that had helped her.
โHey, she's up.โ said Fred.
โHello missus,โ said George.
โAh, hello Miss Archdaen.โ It was Dumbledore. And the Weasley family, Harry, Potter and Professor Snape. She tried to hide it, but seeing him immediately caused her to panic.
Harry and Ron looked up and instantly had daggers for her while on the other side of the room Arthur and Molly looked both worried and frightened while the twins and Ginny met her gaze. She kept her face passive and tried to focus solely on the Headmaster.
'Oh, good. A house full of people who hate me, and a man who will likely give my location away. No reason to fret.'
๐ณ [DECIDUOUS] What's your OC's favourite thing to do at the park?
In the park, Violet enjoys cataloging the different things she sees. If she knows she'll be there, she'll take a notebook and write different plants, bugs, and people that she encounters. She may also try to make a map of the park itself. And of course she's going to show Rose what she's done later.
Plot Summary: When Lord Corlys abandons Princess Rhaenys in favor of the sea, she puts on a brave face. In front of others she is as strong as ever, but in private, she crumbles. Ophelia, lady in waiting to the princess, provides her comfort in his absence. By the time a year has passed, the two are nearly inseparable. Rumors begin circulating of an affair. When Corlys returns after six whole years, things are not as they used to be and itโs left to Rhaenys to decide the way forward.
Name: Rhiannon Blackwood
Face Claim: Katie McGrath
Love Interest: Daemon Targaryen
Fic Title: The Dragon And His Raven
Plot Summary: Rhiannon Blackwood is not just another strategic political match made for Prince Daemon Targaryen, though it is certainly what sheโs thought to be at first, even by Daemon himself. But sheโs a match for Daemon in all aspects of life. She thrills him, challenges him and drives his ambition for the throne to new heights. She seeks power as much as love, and in Daemon, she may just find both.
๐ฅ [WILTED ROSE] How good is your OC at meeting deadlines? What motivates them?
๐น [ROSE] Does your OC believe in true love? Why?
๐ [MUSHROOM] How likely is your OC to eat random berries/mushrooms they find?
๐ [MAPLE LEAF] What is your OC's favourite season? Why and what do they do during it?
๐ [AUTUMN LEAVES] Does your OC view piles of dead leaves as a mess or as fun?
๐ฐ [CHESTNUT] What food group does your OC mostly eat (e.g., grains, fruits)?
๐ต๏ธ [ROSETTE] What flower symbolises your OC best and why? What does the flower mean in floriography?
๐ป [SUNFLOWER] Where would your OC get lost in the moment/beauty of the place?
๐ [BOUQUET] If you could send your OC a bouquet, what flowers would make it up and what is the overall message?
๐พ [RICE SHEAF] How picky is your OC with food? What will and won't they eat?
๐ฟ [HERB] Is your OC religious? What do they believe in?
โ๏ธ [SHAMROCK] How passionate is your OC about things they love/hate?
๐ [FOUR LEAF CLOVER] Would your OC spend hours looking for a four leaf clover?
๐ฒ [EVERGREEN] What does your OC's dream treehouse look like? What tree is it built upon?
๐ณ [DECIDUOUS] What's your OC's favourite thing to do at the park?
๐ [FALLEN LEAF] What's the darkest period of time your OC has been through?
๐ต [CACTUS] How physically resilient is your OC?
๐ฑ [SEEDLING] What new passions/hates is your OC discovering?
๐ด [PALM TREE] What are the stops on your OC's dream cruise? What boat are they on?
๐ธ [CHERRY BLOSSOM] Does your OC believe in legends/myths?
๐ฎ [WHITE FLOWER] Has your OC ever kissed someone? Who, when, and where?
๐บ [HIBISCUS] What does your OC think is the prettiest name?
๐ท [TULIP] What is your OC's favourite flower and colour?
About: Ana is the epitome of a bimbo (positive.) She loves animals of all kinds and is the type to pspsps at a wild cougar. She laughs loudly, cries openly, and tries to see the best in others whenever possible. She's a highly sensitive person and gets attached to others quickly. She loves love - whether seeing it expressed by others, or experiencing it herself.
Aesthetics: Style
Romantic Pairing(s): Boromir, Haldir
Key Friendship(s): Legolas, Eowyn, Arwen
Plot Summary: Ana gets isekai'd into The Lord of the Rings while she's on her way to meet friends for a vacation. She read the books in school and watched the movies a couple of times, and because of her vague knowledge it's assumed she has some sort of foresight abilities. She's sent with the fellowship to Mount Doom armed with her Hello Kitty taser and the skills she learned from her self defense class.
โ As a rule, Love Devereux did not trust those who stuck their noses into other people's business. Having been raised by Cole and Margarita Devereux, both old film stars who had retired and locked themselves up in their Hollywood mansion once they'd had children, they and his siblings had been taught from infancy not to do anything attention-attracting and to keep their mouths shut whenever anyone asked a question. Their parents, who had both been married when they'd begun their relationship and whose reputations had been ruined once the press found out, had constantly counselled their children on the dangers of people who sought information and anyone who had the power to ruin somebody's public image.
Never trust a question about your personal life, they had said many a night, eyes glazed over from one too many glasses of wine. Stay away from detectives, paparazzi, and especially reporters, and do your best to life quiet lives where nobody will notice you.
Love, in this regard, has turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. Years after getting away from the mansion his parents now never leave, they are now a prominent figure in Hollywood's drag scene, emceeing almost every drag event held in the star-studded city. Despite almost everyone in Hollywood knowing their moniker, The Voice of Gawd, Love is still doing his best to stay away from reporters and anyone else who could pry into their personal life and reveal his secrets.
But then their parents are murdered, their decaying bodies found stabbed in their massive bed, and Love is forced to deal with one of these people in the form of the private detective his sister has hired to find out who did it. Benoit Blanc has a million odd sayings, an infuriating manner, and an accent that Love isn't positive is real - but with a completely innocent Love being the prime suspect in their parents' killing, he's also his only hope of proving that, while they may have resented his parents, he certainly isn't capable of murder.
Plus... the "last of the gentleman sleuths" may be slightly annoying, but he's also pretty sexy, so maybe this won't be so bad after all. โ
