Shrink the World || Self
“Dearest, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you Father.”
She did look beautiful. The lavender dress set off her skin tone beautifully, and all the silver embroidery meant that she sparkled every time she made the slightest movement. Her earrings and nails matched the dress and the shoes, because it was important to have all the details like this put together. The necklace was too opulent for her taste, but her father had looked so pleased with himself when he gave it to her for her last birthday. He’d specifically asked her to wear it tonight, so she hadn’t been able to say no. She looked beautiful. She felt like she could barely breathe.
“You don’t sound happy about it. Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing. It doesn’t matter. I know how important it is that I am seen by all the right people tonight. The dress is lovely.”
“You never know, you might even have fun. After all, I know that – “
Jasmine whirled, flipping from resigned to furious in a heartbeat. “Don’t! Don’t tell me about somebody else’s son or somebody’s brother or somebody’s cousin who would just happen to make an excellent suitor for me because I don’t want to hear it! I don’t care about any of them and I don’t see why you’re so focused on it. Isn’t it bad enough that Sharma has to trail me the whole night? I don’t need a pack of arrogant morons doing it as well!”
“Have you ever thought that if you got engaged, you might not need to be under as an intense a watch?”
“What?” That concept made no sense. How would becoming someone else’s property decrease the level of watchfulness placed on her? After all, there would be twice as much worried male ego she would be expected to pacify.
Father sighed, as if he couldn’t believe she would be so naïve as to misunderstand this. “If you’re only my daughter, you’re under threat because of my political work. But if you’re engaged to someone else, anything that happens to you will also bring down the wrath of his family on the perpetrator’s head. That’s enough to make most people reconsider using you against me. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
At his words, Jasmine felt her heart soften a little. She knew he was genuinely worried about her, and his logic did make a certain strange sense. The problem was, it wouldn’t make her happy. And that was the point she was willing to fight for the most.
“Try to understand. I’ve never done a thing on my own. I’ve never had any real friends. And you’re asking me to make the first decent choice on something that will shape the rest of my life.”
“Oh, but Mr. Rajanin – “
“Tye is wonderful,” she interrupted her father before he could go too far down that track. “But at the end of the day, we both know that the reason he spends so much time with me is because you pay him to. Yes, I got lucky and we became friends. But he’s not allowed to have any life outside of me, and I’m not allowed to do anything that doesn’t involve him. I want to play Quidditch.”
“Jasmine,” her father said wearily.
“I know, I know, completely out of the question. Tye can’t fly with me during a game, too much can go wrong and it could be made to look like an accident, it’s just too dangerous,” she retorted, repeating the well worn arguments from the previous year when she had tried again and again to make him change his mind. “But that’s the point. I’m not allowed to try anything that isn’t pre approved by you. There’s a whole world out there, and I feel like I’m missing it. How am I supposed to know who I am, if the only person I’m allowed to be is what you want? How can I marry someone if I don’t even know what makes me happy?”
“Somehow other people have managed to figure this out for years. I’m sure you’ll manage. Besides, people like us don’t see the world anyway. We have a duty to people right here.”
“Then I don’t want to be me!” This time, she didn’t wait for her father’s response before turning and stomping down the hallway. She thought she heard him muttering behind her about the difficulties of daughters, but she didn’t bother to listen. If she was going to calm down in time to be even halfway appropriate at this upcoming party, then she needed to walk away and take the time for herself.
Seeing the open library door, Jasmine slipped inside and closed it behind her. Instantly the light spells for the room burst to life, but she ignored them. She wasn’t going to be reading at the moment, she just needed the quiet of the room.
Whatever else could be said of her father, he had never skimped on the library. It was far from his favorite room, but her mother had loved it, and then Jasmine had, and he had done his best to indulge them both. Books of all kinds ranged the walls – everything from history books to travel stories to adventure novels. In a way, Jasmine’s vision of life and the world could be said to have been born in this room. This was how she learned about other people and other places, and she’d felt a growing craving to experience all of it for herself.
But if her father had his way, this would be all of the world she would get to experience. Her world would slowly shrink until it was nothing but England, her husband’s house, and what he would allow of her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she would survive that. Not really. No matter how well intentioned her father was, she knew the truth. She needed to be able to fly free.
Sighing, she let her fingers fall from where she had been dragging them along the spines of the familiar shelves as she stopped at the window. Not that any of her resolutions mattered at the moment. She had too much respect for her father and his political career to leave a party he expected her to attend, no matter how unhappy it made her. She knew he relied on her impressions of the people she met, and she could bring him information he might not acquire on his own because people were generally so much more careful around the established politician. Many people didn’t really expect her to have her own mind, so they talked as if she wasn’t there. It was the one thing that made gatherings like this bearable. She wouldn’t walk away.
The bell rang, and Jasmine steeled herself to turn around and begin her duties as hostess. Before she took another step, she saw a form waiting for her in the shadows and she instinctively tensed, reaching for a wand that wasn’t there. But a closer look revealed that it was only Sharma, watching over her even before any guests had arrived. Probably to make sure that no one snuck in early to derail the party by kidnapping her. It was the kind of thing her father would think of.
“Hello Sharma.”
“Miss Malik,” he replied quietly. But she knew him well enough to tense at the hint of censure in his tone. He must have heard the fight.
“It isn’t easy being his daughter or living like this, don’t expect me to act like it is,” she retorted, despite his criticism being unspoken.
“Your father is trying his best.”
“I know. I know. But his best in this situation isn’t enough if he won’t even try to understand my side. I want to have a life Sharma. My own life. I don’t want to move straight from what my politician father decides is acceptable to what my politician husband decides is acceptable. I need more than that.”
“Have you ever thought about what he needs? To know that you are safe? To know that after he dies, you won’t be left unprotected and without income? Or that he might need support at home if he is to face what he needs to do for his job?”
“I try and give him as much of that as I can. Why else do you think I’m going to this party instead of coming up with a dozen potential reasons why I need to be somewhere else? I don’t want to hurt him. I just want the chance to do both.”
Resolutely she ignored the voice in her head reminding her of her magical promise to bring down her father’s career. For the most part she ignored that memory, because what she said was true. She didn’t want to hurt her father. She didn’t want to hurt his career. The work he was doing was important, and he needed as much support as she could give him. It would just be nice if the kind of support he was able to give her in return was also the kind she needed.
Sharma merely inclined his head. “As you say Miss Malik.”
The bell rang again, ending the argument before either of them could reply. She was sure she hadn’t convinced him, but he knew he hadn’t changed her mind either. It was yet another circular argument in a household full of them. And the ending of it would have to wait.
Jasmine swept beyond him and down the stairs, arriving to stand next to her father just as the first guest stepped inside. Thus began the parade of polite curtseys and flowery greetings which didn’t mean anything but would provide great insult if they weren’t said. Each guest arrived with a present either in the hands of the heir hopeful of catching Jasmine’s eye or in the hands of a house elf trailing quietly behind the head of the house. After all, the party itself was in celebration of her father’s 45th birthday.
The two of them had had a private celebration on the day itself, and that was the day the household staff acknowledged it as well. The presents and the invite tonight, instead, were all just for show. Anyone who scrutinized the invited guest list would note that many of the people in attendance had supported her father through various propositions over the years, and he had done the same for them in as consistent a manner as politics would allow. A second closer look would show that all the new people were the ones who objected most strongly to the Wizard Olympics, and thus to the first visible action of Stavros Otepa’s Ministry reign. Like with everything else in their life, even personal celebrations were just another stage for political maneuvering.
Sharma and David hovered in the shadows behind them, keeping an eye on everyone who came through the door for any potential attacks on the Malik family. But as soon as all the guests had arrived, they moved into the large ballroom. And the party began.
Her father had decided against a formal dinner, as that got into the sticky territory of who sat next to who, who sat closer to him, and who sat closer to her, and all of the power games and prestige that implied. Instead, there was a large buffet table full of a variety of high class finger foods, and house elves circulating throughout the gathering with other food and drinks. Small tables dotted the edge of the room for people to rest at before going on to other group. Cream colored table clothes covered every surface with table runners and accent pieces in reds and oranges. The center of the room was kept clear for dancing.
With a bright smile, Jasmine and her father separated to work different parts of the room. The dancing would start later, so for now it was all about mingling. She complimented the wife of one of her father’s committee members. She laughed at a joke put forward by the recently retired head of the Obliviator office. In another circle, she put forward a question that sparked a lively discussion on the proposed plan for increasing physical education at Hogwarts, and she took careful mental notes on the stances of everyone there.
Jasmine heard dozens of compliments on how wonderful she looked that evening. There were quite a few who tried to take a different route and compliment her laugh and how she ‘sparkled’ that evening. A few admired here ‘surprisingly insightful’ questions into certain important issues of the moment. At each one, she smiled, accepted the compliment politely, and refused to favor one compliment more than another in case it gave the giver or anyone watching ideas.
After an hour of socializing, Jasmine heard the violin drag their bow across the string, announcing the beginning of the dancing. Before she had the chance to turn around, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.
“Will you give me the pleasure of dancing with you?” The man speaking was the son of a prominent member of the Goblin Liaison Office. He had just started his own career in the same department, although he was currently in the Beast Division. He was smiling hopefully at her with big blue eyes, and she couldn’t detect any malice in the action with only minimal conniving.
Jasmine nodded, gave him a smile that was almost genuine, and placed her hand in his. “Of course Marius. I would be delighted.”
Immediately, he swept her onto the dance floor and into a controlled waltz. Jasmine had danced with him before, so she wasn’t surprised when he kept his hand very properly on her waist with a very proper amount of space in between the two of them. He was a respectful man, and a sensible and enjoyable conversationalist when he wasn’t trying too hard to flatter her. There were worse dance partners to begin the evening with.
“You look wonderful this evening.”
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to see you here.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, if I want to be taken seriously in the Ministry, I can’t go skipping events like this one can I?” His grin was full of boyish charm, and she would have almost thought him sincere if she didn’t doubt everyone in the room on principle.
“No. No of course you couldn’t.”
“Oh. Besides. You’re here, and I wouldn’t miss that.” His attempt at flattering her was so obviously an afterthought, she had to restrain herself from laughing. It was always nice to meet someone who was only wooing her because he’d been instructed to by his father, it made him so much less dangerous than the others.
“I appreciate the sentiment. How did your presentation go the other day?”
“It went great!” And just like that, he spent the rest of the dance expounding excitedly on his work as part of the Centaur Liaison Office, and his research into the meaning of certain hand gestures in a particular French Centaur tribe that paralleled those made by a coastal Welsh Centaur tribe.
Dance after dance passed by, each one with varying degrees of pleasantry. Some people would talk about their work, which gave her the chance to report it back to her father, and some people simply smiled indulgently and told her not to worry herself about such matters. Some people tried to call her by sickening pet names while others made a point of only addressing her as ‘Miss Malik’ to show that they respected her. It was the usual round of dances, and Jas did her best not to let any of them get to her.
And if every now and then, she day-dreamed about a dark eyed boy, holding out his hand, saying, “Do you trust me?” Well. Who could blame her?
Finally it was the last dance of the evening. After this, everyone would go home and she could strip off the dress and her mask. But as she looked around, the once person she’d hoped to avoid for one evening approached her with a smug grin.
“I’ll have this last dance.”
The audacity! He didn’t even phrase it as a question, didn’t try any of the normal flattering statements, just said that he would ‘have’ the dance, as if it was a forgone conclusion that she would agree. Which it was under the circumstances. But nothing said he had to act that way. “Mr. Bandini.”
“Please, I have told you time and time again to call me Giuseppe.” He took possession of her hand and pulled her out to the floor before wrapping her closely in his arms. There was barely any space between her body and his, and she had to press back against his hand as hard as possible to even carve out that much.
“You are a beautiful woman Jasmine. And very powerful. Did you know that?”
“Oh really?” She was hardly paying any attention to the conversation, more focused on the progress of the music and counting down the seconds until this was over. It was just her luck he was also an exceptional dance so she couldn’t use that as an excuse to sit out.
“Every beautiful woman is. You bat your eyelashes and bring men to their knees. And then of course, there are your other charms.” Jas felt his hand slide down her back towards her waist. When it starts to creep farther, she shifted again, and stepped on his toe.
“Mr. Bandini, you take too much of a liberty.”
“My apologies. I did not wish to offend.”
Yes he did. He meant to take whatever he could and see how far she would let him go. “In that case, you will not do that again, because then you would know that you were causing offense.”
“Understood.” The next turn around the room passed in silence, and Jas started to hope that she would make it to the end of the night without any other difficulties. But then he started again. “I’m going to call on you tomorrow.”
“No you won’t.”
He stared at her in slight surprise, as he’d never heard that tone from her before. But she didn’t care. This man was arrogant, self important, and twice he had presumed she would just accept whatever he was saying as if it was the truth. She wasn’t going to stand for it any longer, political consequences be damned.
“Jasmine, I don’t see – “
“And don’t call me Jasmine! You are not my friend, I have never given you permission to do so, just like I’ve never given you permission for anything you’ve done with me! What did you honestly expect?”
They had stopped dancing in the center of the room, but she didn’t care. She was going to have this out with him. “I expected that your father explained to you the reality of your situation. You may be beautiful now, but your charms won’t last forever, and there are few families willing to take on someone with a background like yours.”
“My charms? You mean perky breasts and a healthy dowry.” She heard a few shocked gasps behind her, but she didn’t care. “If you had made the slightest attempt to respect me, I might have considered you. If you had been kind or shown any interest in people other than yourself, I might have taken the time to get to know you better. But you are an arrogant, self centered, nasty little braggart who only thinks with his dick and will likely lose his political position in a year because you expect your family to be enough to get by with.
“And as for my background, that is none of your concern. If you can’t respect the people I came from, you clearly can’t respect me, so we have nothing more to say to each other. I will not be seeing you tomorrow, I will not finish this dance, and if you so much as show your face around here, I will curse you until even the goblins won’t want to acknowledge you. Is that understood?”
Her tone had risen steadily the longer she spoke, and as she finished, she realized the entire room had fallen silent. All eyes were on her, and the only movement was her father and David trying to approach her so they could discreetly whisk her away. No more. Everyone here was going to learn a lesson tonight, and she was going to leave on her own terms.
Turning around, she took in every person in the room with a scathing gaze. “I am not a prize to be won.” With that, she turned and swept out of the room, Sharma following quietly. As soon as the door shut, she heard a burst of chatter begin to echo through the room, but soon she was far enough away that she couldn’t hear it anymore.
Behind her, she heard a soft cough.
Jas didn’t bother to turn around, wanting to get back to her room as quickly as possible. “Don’t. Don’t start Sharma. I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to say something.”
She knew what she’d done was potentially unforgivable, and her father would have to respond in some way. But she despised Giuseppe and everyone like him. She was tired of being touched without her permission, tired of people making sly compliments they don’t really mean, tired of being a thing with no mind and dignity that they were required to respect. Why was that so difficult to explain?
“I’m going to bed. Good night Sharma.”
“Good night Miss.”
As soon as she was in her room, she stripped everything off – clothes, jewels, shoes, anything that reminded her of the party. Letting the slight chill of the night air caress her, she took in slow deep breath after slow deep breath. Absently she noticed the tear drifting down her cheek, but she tried not to pay it much attention. There was no one here to see, so no reason to be ashamed.
After a few minutes, she climbed into silk pajamas and walked out onto the balcony. It was one of the few luxuries she was still allowed considering the danger her father was convinced she was in, and it was her favorite place. Stone benches were covered in cushions spelled to resist the vagaries of the weather, and there were lights she could activate with a word if she wanted. She rarely did. The best part about this balcony was its unimpeded view of the stars.
A girl of your background. What had he meant by that anyway? Was that about her father’s country of birth? Was that about the Islamic faith he had been born into and then given up because he had considered his career more important? Or was that a reference to her mother – the desert flower who had failed to bloom in England’s cold climbs, who had married to leave one country behind and never fallen in love with the one she’d found? What part of her background was the problem to people like him?
Like a whisper on the wind, she heard her mother’s voice. “It does not matter Eliana. They do not matter. We are from a people of survivors. Our people have lived through plague, exodus, pogroms, and worse. We are those who refuse to be exterminated. We are those who refuse to be bound by their laws when they are unfair. We are those who grow in secret, and our power is that very secrecy. Pardon them for their ignorance. You are strong my Eliana. And you will do what I could not. Now, how would you like to hear the story of Rajah, the star-tiger?”
The tears had started to flow more freely at the memory. Jasmine wasn’t sure when it was from. Maybe it wasn’t from anywhere. Her mother had given her so many versions of that speech over the years, she could very well be pulling bits and pieces from different circumstances and combining them into what she needed now. Whatever the truth was, it was enough.
“Yes, I would like that.”
Looking up, Jasmine started out by naming all the constellations she could see, tracing them with her finger. When she had her voice under control, she said to herself, “Once upon a time, in the old past, a little star tiger was born. His name was Rajah…”
