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How Not To Screw A Slytherin
38 | ﴾ Ms. Poison ﴿

38 | ﴾ Ms. Poison ﴿

"Absolutely splendid day for a magical carriage ride, eh Milady?" the youngest of the three governesses which watched over Audette like hawks - and arguably the gentlest in nature - commented in the Hogwarts carriage pick up zone as the Bellarose private driver loaded her luggage.

Oh yes, it was a splendid December day indeed; blue bird sky conditions, an unseasonably warm breeze, and a glittering coat of clear ice carpeting every landscape feature.

"Well anyhow, nice to see some snowfall. Not any where we are headed back," the female squib, Tierney, who was a meager five years older smiled stiffly when no response was provided by a grumpy and overcast Audette.

Feeling antisocial to the ninth degree, she had plastered massive solid gold sunglasses over her eyes with full tint so she could block out Draco following her to the collection point.

She was in a rotten mood - as yucky as molding green milk - after writing three exams in one go, and although he had remained silent and stoic the entire way down the hill his very presence was prickling her skin like a cactus.

"Well anyways, lovely weather, and a very lovely new suitor if I do say so milady, oh my," Tierney tried a third time to procure a response. She leaned close to Audette encouragingly with a blushing smile at Draco, standing a few feet away like a Queen's guard to unnecessarily oversee his girlfriend's departure.

His spine was straight as an arrow, darned in tight Malfoy outerwear, hands clasped behind his back obscuring a black walking cane.

Although he was exceptionally pretty on the outside, the expression on his face was flat and unfriendly, the only indicator of his nature within.

"Hmm, have you ever heard of Amorphophallus titanum?" Audette asked dryly.

Tierney's face scrunched in instant confusion of the Latin definition, looking to Aine for the answer. Aine rolled her eyes, "Tierney, the corpse flower growing at the center of the Amazonian Habitat? Lord Bellarose speaks fondly of it in each educational tour."

Tierney snapped her glove, "Ah yes, that magnificent flower that unfortunately smells like rotting flesh when one wanders too close. From a distance though it is quite a sight to behold."

"Precisely," Audette's eyes sealed behind her glasses, fighting a desire to laugh at her own metaphorical jab. Thankfully she was too sleep deprived to lose control to giggling that day.

The older and more submissive Audette had grown to the ways of the ton, the more Tierney had frustratingly tried to blend her responsibilities to superintend Audette with some sort of hybrid friendship model.

It was never going to happen, because Audette was bitter towards any authority figure, especially one so close in age.

Aine, the second eldest governess shook her head at Tierney knowingly, "Miss Bellarose warned us she was under the weather, perhaps we had best leave her be this aft."

There was a terrible cacophony just then as the elderly driver dropped her travel cage for T-T, who let lose a brand new gargle of outrage from the tumble within which she'd never heard before.

Tierney held her hand out to Draco who simply stared down at the gesture as if it were a blade being inappropriately presented without the handle first, "Tierney Mairead, sir, a pleasure to meet yah. You must be this Draco Malfoy Mr. Bellarose has been on about lately, the English Champion who's to marry our beautiful Audette."

For once, no witty remark came from his lips.

Audette had been bracing for him to produce some cynical joke about actually being Santa Claus, but instead his pointy nose curled back on one side in a snide jeer and he turned away to stare at a cluster of pine trees as if the girl did not exist.

There was far too much pressure on their plate as it was without additional flirtatious mistakes, and Draco no doubt was frantic about the status of their endangered relationship. Audette couldn't help thinking to herself that girls were now the farthest of their worries, and that being rude to her household was not helpful for his image.

"Clean this up you blundering buffoon, before I file a report to Lord Bellarose for a new chauffeur with increased agility!" a gnarled voice called from the gold-plated carriage, a voice that whorled through one's eardrums and stood the hairs on end in similar fashion to a metal fork on a chalk board.

A spindly woman in a tight grey dress with red gloves marched down all three micro steps brutishly, her whiskery white hair tied so tightly into a military bun it was a miracle her eyebrows were not misshapen on her wrinkled face.

Unfortunately, Eloise Bellarose was not one for chance taking on her wild daughter. She had also instructed the oldest and most harrowing governess to escort her daughter home, this one an elderly witch with malice in her stony gray eyes: Ms. Roisin, or as Audette preferred to nickname her, Ms. Poison.

Ms. Poison was the very reason that Audette's behavior had done a one-hundred and eighty-degree turn in her early teens. She was the Trunchbull of training disasters to be Duchesses; in other words, girls who were expected to wield etiquette and class like swords in the Debutante ton battlefield.

After shouting at the driver she stepped forward brandishing the infamous felt-tip metal rod she utilized to poke and prod Audette into proper form, slowly lifting the sunglasses off of her nose so that they would drop in a clatter and smash.

As if she were filleting Audette alive the rod traveled around at lightning speed from her posture to her hands to her dress, "Well now, this is a pig with lipstick if I've ever seen one. Hands together, clasped, gloves pulled tight with unwrinkled bows next time. Why are your legs so far apart? Sloppy, sloppy. sloppy. Chin higher, higher, and we'll not waste our time on that material for this ribbon - I strictly warned you taffeta or tulle, silk is far too lacking in composite."

"Actually," Draco's deep tone cut off Ms. Poison abruptly as he stepped forward to grip the slashing rod mid-air in his silver glove. He shot straight from an eighteen year old boy to a man at the speed of sound, "I happen to have purchased that ribbon for her. Ergo, you are accusing a superior of poor taste which quite frankly, does not bode well."

Audette peered around Draco's back in astonishment to see the full set of narrow knives for teeth that her governess possessed in her mouth which was widely agape, standing there blinking, "It is my profession to prepare her for your standards, my Lord, surely-"

"Surely your professional services are null and void then, she's claimed is she not? How she ties her fucking gloves is no concern to my standards if it will result in some old cretin insulting her," Draco ripped the rod straight out of Ms. Poison's fingers and flung it by the carriage, proceeding to slam his own cane into the precast stone paving so hard that a guttural boom blasted outwards, scaring off at least a dozen birds nesting in nearby needled vegetation.

Just like his father, a mirror image.

The action also scared off the two younger governesses who finally comprehended Audette's earlier metaphor, both of them returning to stand by the carriage with raised brows.

"In fact," Draco went on in callous enthusiasm, leering so profoundly that the infamously stern Ms. Roisin actually bent backwards on the spot, "If I ever catch you, an employee, speaking to my fiancé like that again, I'll be writing my own report to Lord Bellarose. You can guarantee it will be sharply worded in your disfavor."

It was evident from Ms. Roisin's stunned silence that she was not prepared for Draco's defensive and viperous mien.

She brushed a palm over her already slicked back hair and nodded once professionally, ignoring Audette's taunting grin directed straight at her, "Understood, Lord Malfoy. I shall heed your boundaries, so long as they do not conflict with Lord Bellarose's."

She turned and whistled sharply, although Audette could tell with less confidence than usual, "Girls, in the carriage. Lord Bellarose expects our arrival by half-past six and we shall not hamper with his schedule."

She waved her wand and the carriage came to life maddeningly, straps tying themselves together to secure luggage to the top, doors slamming, windows rolling up independently...

Audette made to follow but of course, she didn't make it far.

"Audette," before Audette could take another step her mitten caught in something, and she spun, twirled really, perfectly into Draco's arms. He ebbed her closer to him by her waist, and leaned down to nudge his nose against hers without hesitation

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Leaving just like that? Not even a goodbye slap to my face?" from the part of his lips he wanted a kiss, catching hers here and there before she caved and began to peck back, and soon the resistance was over when he squeezed her arms inwards and dove for it.

She twisted her mitts in his scarf as they swayed and lightly touched tongues between embraces in the afternoon sun; lust and love coming together in her body to create a concoction strong enough to temporarily evaporate the fact that she suspected him of being a Death Eater.

"Miss Bellarose! This is highly inappropriate in a public setting!" Ms. Poison shrilled in offence from the opened carriage doorway. Audette peered with a grimace to see that not only was the Trunchbull watching with her beady eyes, but so were the two other governesses out the miniature back window.

"Alright, now you've done it," Audette grumbled, yanking back her hand but he held onto her mitten which tore clean off.

"Shall we see how far we can push the old cow?" his lethal blue gaze rested on the head governess with wickedness before catching onto Audette's lovely pink petticoat and bringing her back for another deep kiss, this time angled and passionate. He ran his hands past her cheeks and through her hair, pulling her closer and closer to his delicious minty lips.

She was in deep, deep trouble.

"What sort of Lord is he? No manners at all, tsk tsk, surprising Mr. Bellarose approved," Tierney gasped in amusement at the bold snogging, the two younger governesses now giggling naughtily.

Aine enviously cooed as Draco swirled his fingers through Audette's loose shiny waves, spreading sparkles that she'd spritzed on her cheeks all over her clothing, "I'm not sure; he's nothing like the last one, Nott? Bit more similar to Miss Audette in that rogue manner though, wouldn't you say? All attitude."

The Irish chit chatter was rapid and gushed in her ears as Audette nuzzled into Draco's steaming embraces, unable to stop knowing that as soon as they did reality would come whooshing back to split their love to bits. She pulled even harder on his silver scarf, her eyes growing hot with tiny tears that thankfully stayed behind her eyelids.

"But that Nott - he was a fine princely type, take yah for a strawberry picnic and sailing out on the sea, not a bad match either. Oh goodness, Miss Audette is all grown up and breaking every pureblood heart this side of the North Sea."

"If I was the sole Bellarose heir, I'd be courting all of the best suitors too. We didn't raise her for years not to be a shining diamond, did we?"

A whipper snapping of the felt rod on the metallic exterior of the mobile and their sudden silence suggested that Roisin had shut them up quite quickly, "Miss Bellarose, I will generously count to ten."

Audette planted her hands on Draco's chest and shoved him off, then slapped him with the bare hand he'd exposed by stealing her mitt, "There you are, your requested slap."

All three governesses gasped in such a way it was miraculous one of them did not faint like a sheep.

He took the half-hearted smack with a stiff neck, only a small flutter of straight blond strands falling down his nose.

Predictably he held onto the sides of her petticoat with a sad smile, one pale cheek glowing ambrosia in the bright snowy conditions. His voice evolved into something charming and beguiling as he bid her adieu, "I'd be fibbing if I told you my heart isn't overflowing with sick trepidation. No matter what your father has to say, remember we share the same world - we always have. Better to navigate it together; my affections for you are limitless, Audette."

She tilted her head to the side with a big pout and watery eyes, letting out a puff of air in defeat and bouncing nervously, "Even if I should return with no skin?"

He snorted briefly at the comic relief, "Well we know the correct answer to that one now, don't we?"

She ran her hand down his obsidian jacket and pushed him again with a feathery force, teasing but sad, her salty vision caught on the white hot ultramarine in his orbs under the sunlight. Now that she was absolutely infatuated with the way they altered throughout differing photometric settings, those eyes would forever possess the power to render her breathless.

Releasing her, he pressed her mitten back into her hand as the driver honked obnoxiously at the command of Ms. Roisin, "Better go, before that hag loses her wig on the doorframe."

She looked up into his face with a quivering chin. It was time to go, and perhaps it would be the last time they would be together amicably, "I'm frightened Draco; tell me my intuitions are unfounded. I love you so helplessly, please don't break my heart. If it is true, you cannot hide such an atrocity forever."

He straightened his spine and narrowed his gaze down the gravelly road leading away from the castle, his light blue eyes dreadfully awful at adjusting to any sunny weather. He chewed on his lip for a moment, and without returning to her unblinking contact he sighed cryptically, "Just as I would love you without any skin, I hope you would love me no matter what is on mine."

No, it couldn't be.

Audette panted and stepped away from her beaux whom she was beginning to rapidly disassociate from, her heart cavity flooding with water that made it very difficult to beat normally.

He hung his head for a moment before looking up at her retreating form with a melancholy dire in his expression.

She swiveled away from him with her mitten curled to her mouth, walking dizzily to the carriage.

No. No. No.

She sat between her governesses and put her face in between her fingers, "Draw the curtains, and take me away from here at once."

Ms. Roisin shut the door, locked it, commanded the curtains closed with her wand, and knocked her rod three times into the floor to indicate departure.

At first it was quiet and ominous in the gaudy cabin as all three governesses watched Audette curl up in place, probably confused about the bizarre ping-pong of love-hate between their young lady and her promised lord.

The shadows of the whirring landscape beyond evolved from wooded to open space - the carriage invisibly banging at a super sonic speed across the continent.

Nearing the magical transport portal between England and Ireland Audette finally sat back and wiped her eyes. She kept them downcast into her lap, toying with the incredible royal diadem from Draco Malfoy as if each pristine stone were of planetary intrigue.

"Tidy up Miss Bellarose - you wouldn't want to be unsightly upon arrival," Ms. Roisin held out a decorative handkerchief. It was not out of pity, but rather to preserve her own astute reputation for keeping Audette in line at all times under her care.

Tierney cleared her throat and turned her face sideways curiously, wonderful ringlets of perfectly styled Edwardian brown hair drifting across her neck with the movement, "Milady, is that from Lord Malfoy? What an envious artifact that is."

Audette nodded and said nothing, clearing her face of soiled makeup.

Aine bumped her shoulder into Audette's, "We've been collecting photographs from the Quadrivial Tournament post. Got quite a nice pile going of you and he, Miss, in his handsome shiny armor and glowing medal. The prophet can't get enough of his stunts. Everything right as rain between you two?"

Stunts. Stunts intended to ensure a Death Eater placed first in the end, so that the dark lord would have some despicable goal achieved.

You don't know that yet, a second voice in her mind remarked.

"Right as rain," Audette mumbled lifelessly.

Ironically as the carriage clacked and jangled through the elaborate white iron gates of the Bellarose Castle it was raining, potholes everywhere in the grassy lane.

It was storming. Brilliant.

The once ivory megalithic medieval structure came into view several kilometers deep into a rare grove of trees, each bending to the pull of gravity by encumbering sheets of moss and vines. Hundreds of glittery stain-glass windows were scintillating with prismatic elegance, the tallest of the spired towers attracting an occasional neon lavender lightning strike. The large slab stone cladding was worn and aged, grisly with the spotty blackening of hundreds of years of wet weather and invasive crawling plants.

Behind it, the unnatural glass dome was fogging up inside, teeming with magical creatures worth more than the property itself combined.

Worth more than their daughter apparently, but yet worthy of sharing a cage.

The lake abutting the front entrance of the castle was undulating in a frenzy with pattering rain drops, the water's surface as mauve in tone as the rolling thunder clouds above. All of the elegant swans had collected by the crumbling stone wellhouse for shelter, appearing headless as they drove their orange beaks below their feathery tummies.

As the carriage ground to a halt before the pillared entrance each governess backed away from Audette, who had just been through a good grueling thirty minutes of physical grooming and etiquette reminders.

Remember to curtsy and bow your head.

Recall your heel to toe gait.

Hold your parasol with the handle clockwise below your wrist.

The driver opened the door and the governesses exited in order from least in hierarchy to the highest and lined up in single file below their umbrellas, leaving Audette gripping the leather seating.

She had survived a trial thousands of feet in the air, an owl demon, and Gaelic Knight stabbing already that year, not to mention the uninterrupted heartbreak and emotional turmoil, but nonetheless she realized then that bravery never gets easier. There would always be a new moment in life that was paralyzing, and one could only face them as they arrived as if they were the first of their terrorizing kind.

One, two, three steps down to the washed white gavel.

She popped her parasol, twisted the handle accordingly clockwise, and with a straight spine she marched past the chauffeur holding open the door in his white top hat, past her governesses who cast their eyes downwards in unusual respect, and towards the pillared porte-cochère.

Heel to toe, heel to toe, steady. This was not a day to trip of all days.

Why the employees had been so tense and structured came into focus as she raised her parasol to peer through the dropping rain collecting along the rim of pearly lace.

At the base of the two story double doors a monocle was glinting with lightning strikes reflecting in the glass pane, smoke whirling around the circular eyewear. Montgomery Bellarose had come to personally greet his daughter's arrival - an appearance which had never occurred before in history.

Perhaps it was a foreshadowing that something had indeed shifted in the world they all shared. Perhaps it was a sign that her discovery that year was not only real, but inevitable and as such premonitory.

He had been waiting in expectation.

One thing was for certain; the atmosphere around the Bellarose Castle was rife with static electricity and maleficent energy. It had been a tourist attraction for many decades, now seemingly transitioned into some haunted house hellscape.

A horrifying cluster of magical birds trained to spy craned their necks from overlooking promenade balustrades to inspect the returning resident, of which Audette had never seen flying free outside of the castle walls before.

Secrets which had been buried in the cracks of the bricks, behind hidden passageways and in the catwalks above, secrets now held by creatures thought incapable of baring secrets; those secrets were coming undone, and effectively blooming in the air like spores.

Even if she were to gauge out her green orbs and wishfully abandon vision, it was now impossible to turn a blind eye to the truth.