Chapter Eleven: The Letter Opener
By Natali K. A.
At about one in the morning, Sirius and Mel had returned from a night of making up-by way of making out. The house was quiet and they were unsure of whether their roommates had gotten back from their respective dates.
"Good night, Mel," Sirius whispered, kissing her lightly.
"'Night, Sirius. I had a good time even if you are still an idiot," she said nonchalantly, continuing her way down the hallway to her room.
Sirius rolled his eyes. He'd never live this one down. He reached out his arm and tried to turn the doorknob but found it locked.
He grinned. "Good for you, Prongs. Good for you." He went to Mel's room and knocked softly.
"Yes?" she asked, poking her head out. She'd already taken her shirt off, surprisingly, though she made no move to cover herself or her bright pink bra.
"M'room's locked."
"Why? Did you lock it?"
"No."
"You're a bloody wizard, Sirius, just get out your wand. Or is it inside your locked room?" she asked smartly.
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not entirely sure I want to go inside."
"Why the devil not?" she asked, irritated. "It's your room, Sirius-Oh. James' room, too, isn't it?" She giggled, opening the door wider. "Alright, come in. But you're not getting any tonight."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Sirius gasped, holding a hand to his chest, knowing all the while that he would. He always did.
She nearly always forced herself on his virginal person. He knew that it was one of the reasons he totally adored her. Truth be told, he was obsessed.
It was not a Sirius-like thing to do and it did not sit well with the very Sirius-like part of him
But if there was one thing he had inherited from his family, it was the curse that had held true for several if not a hundred generations.
There would be one and only one weakness for him-the object of his affection, whomever that would be. Not necessarily his wife-God only knew that his father and mother despised each other-but the one woman he would love.
Thankfully, as Mel had yet to meet his family (not that she ever would, the twits) she had yet to learn of his soft spot. It would be better if she never did.
*~*
-The Next Morning…-
Lily yawned, stretching in the morning sunlight. The covers felt unusually heavy this morning…
Ah. Covers indeed.
"Good morning. I was wondering when you'd wake up," James muttered close to her ear, kissing her neck. "It's near to ten," he said, answering her unasked question.
"Oh." She turned over to face him. "Do you think anyone's figured it out yet?"
"I'd say so. They've been whispering and snickering and tiptoeing past ever since they've been up."
"Have you been up long?"
"Yeah. I'm a light sleeper."
They fell into a content, comfortable silence then, just holding hands and smiling at each other.
"I, um… wanted to apologize," he said eventually, hugging her closer so that they were touching feet to feet, hip to hip, chest to chest, forehead to forehead. She couldn't help but notice that he was already aroused.
Yikes but that was a bit scary.
"Whatever for?" she asked, having a niggling of an idea of what it was. Didn't take a genius, did it?
"I didn't… You didn't… Ugh." He drew breath and opened his mouth again.
"It's ok," she told him instead, kissing him. "I wasn't really expecting to."
"It's just… there are other ways and-"
"Then there's no time like the present," she whispered.
*~*
Jenny and Remus sat across from each other playing chess when Lily finally made her way downstairs. She'd left James sleeping because he'd seemed a little tired. She tried tiptoeing past them but Jenny piped up just as she captured Remus' queen.
"Hello, Lily. Have fun last night?"
She had the good grace to blush. "Oh, enough I suppose. Just a regular night at home, you know."
Remus sniggered. "What happened to you and James going out like the rest of us did?"
"I'm sorry, Remus, I wasn't aware you got off on that. But if it makes you feel any better we did just have sex upstairs so you can dream about that for awhile," Lily responded sweetly, heading for the kitchen.
"That is not what I meant!" he protested, head turned the other way while Jenny moved a couple of his pieces.
"Check mate!" she announced, laughing.
"You rotten little cheater!" he accused, pointing a finger at her.
"I am not," she denied, looking innocent. "If you're going to be such a sore loser about it, Remus, I won't be able to play anymore." Jenny stood up with a shrug. "Anyhow, I was going to win anyway so what's the difference?"
*~*
-September Second, 11:58 PM-
Lily couldn't breathe. She just… couldn't. She couldn't take in a breath and she couldn't let it out.
But she hadn't fainted yet.
"Take in some air, Lils. You're going to suffocate yourself," James muttered, ignoring his pattering heart. He felt as if he'd just finished a marathon. He wanted to be calm for Lily but he just couldn't control his body.
"I can't," she gasped. Little by little she was able to.
11:59.
Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, James noticed, and he gripped it harder. They were all six gathered in the kitchen, eating or drinking or staring into space or biting their nails or just worrying.
They were all worrying.
"He's a squib," Lily said hurriedly, realizing the minute would be up soon. "I'm a Careo-Virga. I can take him. It won't matter. I'll be fine."
"You will."
None of them believed that, but didn't voice their thoughts.
Remus' wristwatch went off. Their heads snapped to the grandfather clock in the hall just as it began its strikes.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…
A moment in time was suspended.
Dong.
Twelve.
"Happy birthday?" Jenny muttered. "You're nineteen."
James wrapped his arms around her even tighter and said into her hair, "I'll give you your present when you get back. If you're not here in two hours, I'm coming after you."
"Three days. I'm not sure when I'll get him alone," she sniffed, unable to keep her tears from sliding down her cheeks. "I feel it."
"Feel what?"
"I'm being drawn to him. Let me go, James. I'll go willingly-it's starting to hurt."
He pressed his lips against her in a fleeting kiss and then she was gone.
And it was as if she had never been there. Except he remembered her, missed her already. Wished he hadn't let her go alone-how the fuck could he have let her go alone?!
"She's very mistaken if she thinks we'd leave her there for three days," Mel proclaimed stubbornly, walking over to sit beside James and hug him. "Six hours and then we go in."
*~*
Pop!
Lily's eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark. Her hand was clasped tightly to her wand, in her pocket.
"I'm so glad you didn't fight it."
Somehow, her wand had disappeared.
"Shit," she swore. She revolved slowly, looking for a sign of Victor. She hadn't been able to pinpoint from where the voice had come from. "Where are you, Victor? I know you're the King of the Night, but this is ridiculously. Turn on a bloody light, will you?"
Instantly, at least a hundred lanterns lit up. She was in a long, empty hall with chairs littered about a giant rectangular table. The candlelight cast shadows upon the wall, and she had to admit to herself that the atmosphere had served its purpose.
She was scared.
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, she thought bitterly. I will not spend more time here than I need to.
"The candlelight gives your skin an ethereal glow, my angel."
Her clothes changed to a long white robe.
"You've got to be kidding me, Victor. What do you think you're going to turn me into?" Lily spat, still revolving in the same spot, afraid of having her back to one spot for more than a second. "I'm not some doll you can dress up."
He was suddenly in front of her. Thankfully he hadn't tried to startle her, so she hadn't shown him how ready to scream she was. If he looked closely, she would be able to see her shaking.
"We can do this two ways, Lily. You can either be submissive and do as I say and in that way be able to retain your personality. Or I can force you to be submissive and you'll be a walking robot." He said the last sentence with such a jovial tone that Lily for a minute forgot her terror while anger reigned supreme.
"I would like to see you try." She spat at him, right in his face, and was glad to see that he was disgusted.
However, her moment of glory was soon replaced by a strong urge to cry-he'd just spit back.
Victor glared at her and clapped his hands. Immediately a stony-faced butler came forward.
"Marshall, do escort Lily to her new bedchamber. You will address her as Mistress." His eyes had not moved from her own the entire time. "By the way, you will be referred to as Aithne from here on out. Means `one's own meadow'-my meadow where I will plant my seeds and reap the rewards. I hope you like children."
Marshall grabbed her elbow-not unkindly but firmly-and led her through a series of corridors. They must have passed a hundred and fifty doors. Fifteen minutes later, Marshall stopped and took a key out of his pocket. After opening the door, he handed the key to her.
"If you need something, there is a bell pull in the far corner." He bowed. "Your servant, Mistress."
"If you ever call me that again, Marshall, you can be assured of a slow and painful death," Lily said unfalteringly. "You can tell me if there is modern plumbing around here."
"I am afraid that there is not, my lady. But I could have the Master your soon-to-be-"
"That falls under the category of Reasons to Kill Marshall. Rephrase your sentence," she commanded. Gratefully, Marshall was the sort of man who wasn't extremely smart and responded well to orders.
"I could ask my master to put some in," he rephrased, poker straight.
"That won't be necessary. I will not be in debt to him. Have someone bring up a tub and warm water-assuming there are other servants?"
"Five hundred, my lady."
"Call me Lily."
"But you're-"
"Victor does not exist to me," she snapped, stepping closer to him. "You go on ahead and tell him that. My name is Lily and not anything else."
He bowed once more. "Of course, Lily. Your bath will be up shortly." He continued his way down the corridor, supposedly in search of a couple of the five hundred servants.
Lily stepped into her room and shut the door, locking it. What good would it do? It was a stupid, fear-driven act. He had a skeleton key-of course he did. It was just something to assuage her fears.
"And no doubt he's watching me somehow," she whispered, glancing around the surprisingly pretty room. It was old and the furniture was outdated, but it was an antique beautiful.
No doubt she would not be the first to inhabit this room. Maybe assholes ran in Victor's family.
Her crying would have to wait until she was in bed, where she could cover her head with the duvet. Or maybe not even then.
What if he comes to me tonight?
Should she pretend to be accepting and just do what he wanted her to do or risk losing her soul? Of course, Victor hadn't specifically said she'd lose her soul, but it would have been as good as gone.
Who was she without her personality?
No one.
Something in Lily told her that something was wrong. Something very important, something very crucial was totally, unbelievably wrong.
She tried to light the candlestick that had been left earlier on her dresser.
Nothing.
"Oh, my gosh," she gasped, falling to her knees against the door. She didn't give a fuck if Victor was watching her. It made no difference. "Oh, my gosh," she repeated on a choked sob. "No, no, oh no…"
Then she cried like she'd never cried before. For everything she hadn't done that she'd said she would. She came here without a second thought, so sure that she'd be able to get out.
She would rather kill herself.
She could! She could kill herself and then it would all be over. She would never have to worry about this again.
Lily searched wildly around the room, hysterical. She didn't realize she was crying like a madwoman-anything but this. She couldn't spend more than two minutes with him much less the rest of her life!
But what to use? What on earth would she find in a bedroom that she could use to end her life? Why didn't it bother her to do so?
A knife? No, why would there be a knife in a bedroom? Maybe someone else had killed themselves here at the thought of living with Victor and birthing his children? A brush? No, a hairbrush wouldn't do a thing. She could drown herself when the tub came… but would it be big enough to drown it? It had been her experience that those tin tubs weren't exactly large…
Then she spotted it. An escritoire. There would be a letter opener in an escritoire. They were usually pointed and sharp-or enough, anyway.
Had there been a brick wall between her and her beloved escritoire, she would have blown through it in seconds. She searched wildly through it and finally came up with a gold finished letter opener with the initial "A.L.J." engraved in white gold on it.
"I think that I should warn you, my dear," said a voice from behind her. She whirled to find Victor's smug face in the mirror. "You can't kill yourself."
"Oh really? Just watch me."
"Read the plaque on the back of the door. It states that any person that walks through that door will never be able to commit suicide." He grinned evilly. "A friend of mine came up with that."
With a loud shriek, she threw the letter opener at the mirror so hard and with such good aim that the glass fell into a million pieces on the floor.
"You bastard!" she yelled. She didn't doubt that he'd still be able to see her somehow. Somehow, she didn't care.
There were other ways of dying.
*~*
A/N: I'm sorry guys, I hadn't had my laptop-still don't. So I just rewrote it. It's at my grandparents' house and will be until tomorrow. I'll try to post A Budding Romance as well, but I'm not making any promises.
Hmm. Thoughts? I'd offer a penny but I am utterly broke once more! :-D
Love,
Natali K. A.
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