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Author: Mullvaney Story: No Devil or Redeemer Rating: Everyone Setting: Pre-OotP Status: WIP Reviews: 3 Words: 20,150
March the thirteenth arrived as most days in March do. The rain pounded the windows, and one could barely see the street through the deluge. For Lucrezia, it was the first peaceful morning she had spent in weeks. After the invitations to Mrs. Black's musical fete had arrived, for Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt had been invited, as well, she and her mother had begun feverish preparations that had not abated until the day before. There had been music to choose and rehearse, and fittings for the requisite new dress robes. Her ordinary social schedule had not let up, either; however, the topic of conversation at most of the parties Lucrezia had attended of late had, sooner or later, turned to Idola Black, and her sudden reappearance in London. Lucrezia learned more about the Black family by listening to these conversations than she ever would have, had she asked. Idola Black had once been the belle of London; a great golden beauty with wit and grace. Her dinner parties and salon evenings had attracted the greatest minds and most interesting people the wizarding world had to offer. Her Summer Solstice ball, given at the Black's country estate, had been the most sought-after invitation of the year. She had been a devoted wife, despite the fact that her marriage to Nigellus Black had been arranged while she was still an infant. She had given him two sons: Phineus and Romanus. Both of the Blacks worshipped their sons; they never wanted for anything. Each distinguished himself at school: Phineus on the quidditch field and Romanus in academics. they were the happiest, most loving family in Wizarding society. The summer he finished at Hogwarts, Phineus was out riding a broom he had been tinkering with; somehow the flight charms failed, and he plunged hundreds of feet to the ground. The whole family was devastated; Nigellus Black never recovered from his grief, dying shortly after his son. Idola had never put off her mourning; she would receive family members only, and would not return to London. They had not returned to London until Romanus had asked to open up their house there. Idola had not made any social calls then, and had returned to Yorkshire once he was settled in town. Romanus himself had not stayed in London long; he had closed the house at Grimmauld place once again and left for the colonies. Lucrezia considered all this as she sat pretending to read. She wondered what Idola Black would be like, and why she was entertaining again, after all these years. She sighed, and put her book down. She would find out soon enough, and dwelling on it would just put her in a foul mood. "Edwilda, let's play chess. We haven't played in so long." She would need all her wits for that; Edwilda was a surprisingly good player. "Excellent!" Edwilda crowed, "I learned a new strategy from Delilah Potter and I've so wanted to try it on you!" ~*~ At six o'clock, after a quick tea, Lucrezia went to get dressed. As usual, Mignonette was waiting for her, a fresh shift in her arms. This one was made of a heavier silk than usual; the bodice fitted closely by means of hundreds of tiny tucks, which also stiffened the fabric. The skirt was weighted at the bottom and had a stiffening charm on it so that it would give some support to the skirts of her robes. It felt a little snug, but as long as she maintained perfect posture, it was comfortable enough. The under robe was made of layers and layers of the most beautiful white silk net and Valenciennes lace; it had a pattern of lilies and, if one looked closely enough, tiny snakes. It ended a hair above the floor in the front, and trailed gracefully on the floor for a few inches behind. The over-robe was of dark blue silk shot with silver-gray; it shimmered when she moved like the sea at night. It was also very fitted in the bodice, with a square neckline lined with a short lace ruffle. The sleeves were snug and only went to the elbow; the bell-like lace sleeves of the under robe emerged from beneath them. The skirt was open in the front, and draped in graceful, curved folds to just above the border of the lace underskirt in the back. Lucrezia sat patiently while Mignonette made her hair into a pile of curls, fastened with ivory combs carved to look like swallows. Next came ropes of pearls around her neck, and of course the locket. Lastly, pearl and diamond clips for her ears. She stood up and went to the mirror. Edwilda came in while she was admiring her reflection. "Lucrezia! You look stunning! When I first saw the fabric for those robes, I thought it was strange-looking; but oh, they're just lovely!" Edwilda flung her arms around her, Then stepped back, frowning. "You feel all . . . stiff. Is it the robes?" "Ummm, the shift. It's made stiffer, evidently so I don't slouch. It was Mother's idea." "Oooo, will you be able to get in enough breath to sing?" Edwilda looked so worried; she was such a little mother. Lucrezia kissed Edwilda's cheek. "Don't worry, I will be able to sing like a bird. Goodnight, love, I'll tell you all about it in the morning." ~*~ At seven o'clock, The Gaunt's invitations chimed; it was their signal to apparate to the party. They arrived in a small, brilliantly lit room. It was freshly painted, scarlet with white trim. There was nothing in the room but a large chandelier and a small desk, at which sat a house-elf, draped in a scarlet, tassle-trimmed robe that appeared to be a window-drapery. "Good evening," squeaked the elf, "Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt? Miss Lucrezia Gaunt? Welcome to Grimmauld Place. Madame is waiting downstairs in the ballroom for you." The house-elf wrote something on a small piece of parchment, folded it into a small square, and blew on it. The parchment became a small puff of glittery vapor, which flitted out the door. The elf bowed, gesturing to the door. "The Ballroom is just through that door. Have a lovely evening," and he returned to his desk. They left the small apparition chamber and found themselves in a gallery at the top of a grand staircase. Above them, a massive chandelier blazed with what seemed like a thousand candles; Apollo with the sun in his chariot surrounded by rosy clouds and Diana with her deer and the moon and stars wheeled slowly around it. Lucrezia saw that the walls in here were also newly painted, a rich blue. One wall had a row of tall windows, covered with gold draperies. The floor was of gold-colored marble. Rows of blue and gold chairs were set up at one end of the room, nearby Lucrezia saw Morgana Goyle's harp and various other instruments sitting ready to be played. At the other end of the room, a buffet supper was set up. The little puff of vapor bobbed down the stairs to a man, dressed in rich scarlet and black robes and carrying a large staff. The vapor turned back into parchment again, and dropped into his hand. He read it, and then banged his staff, quite loudly, three times on the floor and announced, "Mr. and Mrs. Audney Gaunt. Miss Lucrezia Gaunt." Lucrezia looked around for Romanus; she spotted him waiting at the bottom of the staircase; he looked up at her and gave her his warmest smile. An elderly stood woman with him; clearly this was his mother. She studied Lucrezia as she descended the staircase, and Lucrezia studied her back. Idola Black was very tall, with a rigid posture that made Lucrezia thing of Greek statuary. She had the same high forehead and prominent nose as Romanus; but her eyes seemed slightly out of focus, as if she were gazing both inward and outward at the same time. Her high-necked black silk robes were without embellishment except for a bit of white lace at the collar and cuffs, and a brooch containing a large opal surrounded by sheaves of wheat. Her brilliant white hair was swept back from her face and caught in a black net; the net was kept in place by ivory combs carved into Asphodel flowers. She carried an ebony walking stick topped by a silver, coiled serpent. "Good evening, Audney, Eldora; it's lovely to see you." Her voice was deep, and a bit raspy; it fit her person perfectly. "Good evening, Mrs. Black, Romanus. I thank you for inviting us to your home this evening." Father was using his most formal tones; Mother merely curtsied. "May I present to you my daughter and eldest child, Lucrezia." He stepped aside and held his hand out to her. Lucrezia took it, gave Mrs. Black her most charming smile, and curtsied. She even inclined her head a bit. "My, my, Audney, she is a lovely creature." She turned and addressed Lucrezia. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Gaunt. I have heard much good about you, both from my son and mutual acquaintances. I look forward to speaking with you later." She smiled, the same warm smile as Romanus. "Please, there is a cold dinner laid out, if you are hungry; I will join you as soon as all my guests have arrived." As she turned to greet the next guests, her gaze fell on Lucrezia again. For just a moment, her eyes seemed to focus; she gave Lucrezia such an appraising look filled with cunning and forcefulness she caught her breath in shock. The cold supper was delicious and it was a joy for her to mingle amongst her friends, chatting and laughing. Soon enough, though, the liveried man was banging his staff for their attention. "If Mrs. Black's esteemed guests would be seated, the entertainment will begin." "My, my! Isn't this formal" Lucrezia remarked dryly to Artemisa as they made their way towards the ranks of chairs at the other end of the room. "Aunt says the Blacks are always this formal; you should become accustomed to it, Lucrezia." Artemisa said archly. "Artemisa Malfoy, what does that mean?" Lucrezia snapped. "Nothing, my love." Artemisa's tone was soothing. "Merely that you may be spending a lot of time here, in the future," and she winked! Lucrezia sat sputtering in her chair while Morgana Goyle gave a particularly fine performance on the harp. The Longbottoms were next on their violins, and then a few people she didn't know. When her turn came, her indignation had abated. She rose and went to the front of the room. She looked at the assembled guests; her gaze fell on Romanus, seated next to his mother, in the last row of chairs. He smiled at her, his warm, crinkle-eyed smile. She smiled back at him, and began her song. "Lulley, lulley, lully, lulley, The falcon hath born my mak away. He bare hym up, he bare him down, He bare hym into an orchard brown. In that orchard ther was an hall, That was hanged with purpill and pall. . ." "Corpus Christi Carol" was a short, beautiful, haunting song. A very difficult song, it tested the singer's range and control. She had chosen it because of this, and because she knew it would stand out among all the showier pieces that she had suspected everyone else would choose. As she finished the song, she saw that it had not failed to impress the audience; their applause was loud and long. When they were done, she made a small curtsy and returned to her seat, extremely pleased with herself. She accepted a glass of water from a house-elf that had appeared at her elbow, and turned to watch the next performance. Romanus Black sat in one of the chairs set out for the musicians and picked up a lute that was leaning against the wall. It was a beautiful instrument; the soundboard was of pale spruce, the back and neck were made of ebony. The rose was of ivory with a band of ebony around it. It was carved in a sinuous pattern; Lucrezia was willing to bet it was some sort of serpent. He rested the instrument on his knee, cradling the neck lovingly in his left hand. He picked a few delicate notes, fiddled with the ivory tuning pegs, and plucked the strings again. He continued to fiddle with the tuning for a few moments; then, taking a deep breath, he began to play. The song was slow, with a complex melody played on the upper courses and a rhythmic harmony played on the lower ones. As she watched Romanus play, Lucrezia couldn't help noticing his apparent relish for the music. He bent over the instrument, cradling it in his arms; his eyes closed, his head nodding slightly in time with the music. The candle light shone softly on the top of his head and face, moving over his hair, his eyelids, his slightly parted lips. The motion of his hands was fascinating to her; his left hand gently moving along the neck, his long, graceful fingers pressing the frets, sometimes firmly, sometimes lightly, trembling. His right hand caressed the strings, and the notes quivered out from under his fingers softly, as if he were playing for her alone, a gorgeous song that whispered of warm summer nights in the comfortable darkness. He had such beautiful hands. She was feeling a little warm, and short of breath. She worked her fan, but it didn't seem to help; she realized that the heat was coming from inside her, from a tingling just behind her lower ribs. Her tight shift seemed to grow tighter; she couldn't catch her breath. She began to feel dizzy, mesmerized by Romanus Black's hands, as they lovingly extracted the beautiful and somehow intimate music from the lute. The piece ended, and there was a vibrating silence as the last notes trailed away. Romanus looked up at the audience, which erupted into pleased applause, with a few cries of 'maestro!' from some of the ladies. When Romanus got up, just before he turned to put his Lute away, he looked directly at Lucrezia, and gave her a tiny smile. *** The last few performances were lost on Lucrezia; she was still under the spell Romanus's playing had cast on her. She may have applauded, she wasn't sure, she still felt rather dizzy. Artemisa had to nudge her when it was time to stand up. "Romanus Black plays the lute very well." Artemisa remarked dryly. "Yes," Lucrezia swallowed hard. "Let's go find him, and congratulate him on his performance." "I think he has enough admirers just now." Artemisa pointed at Romanus, who was surrounded by a giggling mass of their female peers. "Besides, I think you should drink some champagne, first." This they did, walking arm in arm around the room, sipping champagne and discussing the evening's performances. They had decided that Morgana Goyle would be better off taking her income and playing the harp for the rest of her life, giggling the whole time, when Mrs. Back called out to Lucrezia. "Come, Miss Gaunt, and talk with me a moment." She beckoned to Lucrezia, gesturing to the chair next to her. "I should go home now, anyhow." Artemisa kissed her cheek. "Come to lunch tomorrow, and tell me all about Mrs. Idola Black." "I will." Lucrezia kissed her back, and went to Mrs. Black, curtsying before she sat in the proffered chair. "Such a lovely performance you gave this evening, Miss Gaunt. One doesn't often hear "Corpus Christi Carol"; it was a pleasure to hear you sing it." Her eyes had that half-inward look again, and her smile was vague. Her posture was erect, however, and Lucrezia noticed that her hands were very, very steady. "Thank you, Mrs. Black." Lucrezia gave her a small, polite smile. "I adore that piece. It has so many legends surrounding it, it is just the most beautiful song." Too late, Lucrezia realized her words were a bit immodest. Mrs. Black laughed softly. "Romanus said you had a magnificent voice, and he was right. He also said you are better educated than most young ladies, and that you still study whatever interests you." "Yes, Mrs. Black, I enjoyed my years at school very much. I still read and study, but I will be content to give that up to keep house, when the time comes for me to do so." There. No one could find fault with that. Mrs. Black studied her for a minute, with the same direct calculating gaze she had used on Lucrezia before. Lucrezia sat placidly, but the force of Idola Black's focused attention made her want to squirm. Finally, the old woman laughed again. "I had heard that you were proud, Miss Gaunt, so proud that you would not bend your neck for the Head of he Wizengamot; yet here you sit, meek as a lamb. Tell me, do I frighten you?" "No, I'm not frightened of you." Lucrezia hoped the lie didn't show on her face. "I see," she was still examining Lucrezia shrewdly. "You are a great friend of my son's, are you not? He speaks of you often." "Yes, Mrs. Black, Mr. Black and I are good friends. We amuse each other; we talk of things that don't interest our peers." Lucrezia perched nervously on her chair, working hard to keep her expression smooth and pleasant. "Does he prattle on at you about Thaumaturgy, and artifacts, and his adventures in America? " The cunning gaze did not abate. Lucrezia smiled, again. "Yes, Mrs. Black we do talk about most of those things. I don't mind it, though, it is all so fascinating," Thaumaturgy? He had never mentioned that to her . . . no wonder he was not dismayed by her interest in Necromancy . . . "You are a good friend to my son, Miss Gaunt, and a lovely young lady, if I may say." Her gaze had finally eased. "But it is late, and I am old." She stood, and a house elf appeared at her elbow. "Please, go and find Mr. Black." The elf departed. "Your parents bid me goodbye just after the performances were over, Miss Gaunt. I assured them I would make sure you got safely home." The house elf returned with Romanus. "Romanus, would you see Miss Gaunt home?" "Of, course, mother, it would be my pleasure." Romanus offered his arm to Lucrezia, who curtsied to Mrs. Black before she took it. "Thank you for inviting me to your home this evening, Mrs. Black. I had a truly wonderful time." "Good bye, child. Perhaps we can have tea together, soon." Mrs. Black's smile had become vague again, and her gaze had softened. Evidently, Lucrezia had passed some test. "Are you ready?" Romanus asked, covering her hand on his arm with his free one. "Yes." Lucrezia smiled up at him. As they crossed the ballroom, she thought of asking him about the Thaumaturgy, but she decided to wait for some other time, when she was not so overwrought. They reached the Apparition chamber. It was empty; the house-elf and his desk both gone. They Apparated into the downstairs' hall of the Gaunt's home. Romanus turned to her, his hands in his pockets. "You sang beautifully tonight, Miss Gaunt." He was standing quite close to her, causing a flutter in her middle. " Likewise, your performance on the lute was magnificent." She smiled up at him. "Tell me, though, what was the name of the piece you performed? I've never heard it before." He studied her face for a minute, before answering, "It is an old Spanish song. Roughly translated, it is called 'Dream of My Lover's Chamber.'" "Ah." Lucrezia swallowed. "It was very lovely." The warm feeling was back in her middle. "Goodnight, Mr. Black. Perhaps we will see each other soon." "I would like that," he said softly. Then he leaned over, ever so slowly, and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, Lucrezia." He turned and Disapparated out of the hall.
"Corpus Christi Carol" is a Middle-English burial song; Jeff Buckley does a beautiful rendition of it on his album Grace if you want to actually hear it. Thaumaturgy is the performing of grand, miraculous works of magic. It was a relatively new branch of magic during the time of this story. More in chapter six. *** A/N Many thanks to my Beta, Kelley. She is a paragon among betas. Thanks to my husband, who puts up with my fixation with my imaginary world. Thanks to the Queens of Awesomeness, Dogstar, Songbird, Skruvsta and especially Seaspray. Thanks to every one who is reading this, especially Evelyn and Ladybug, your reviews make me so happy!! The Potterverse belongs to the magnificent JKR. I merely mess around with its history.
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