Lineage

I was pleased to see that my new servants had been hard at work in the dining room. A fire had been coaxed to life in the marble fireplace and the table had been set with my best silver. As I entered the room Rachel straightened and lowered her eyes to the floor, while Jasper, my third servant, reluctantly followed suit. Jasper was a young man of eighteen who had been denied entrance to Hogwarts to complete his final year. Although he was far too intelligent to openly rebel, he had a way of staring and speaking to me insolently. I had overheard Rachel reprimanding him for his behaviour before and was glad that some of her influence seemed to be rubbing off on him.

After greeting them briefly I said, “I have work for you both. Rachel, you will be responsible for our guest’s comfort while she is here. Whatever she wants, whether day or night, you will get it for her. The only thing you will not do is allow her to leave the house. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master Lestrange.”

“You will address her at all times as ‘Mistress Thalia’.” I paused before adding, “Get your things and move them into the room next to hers.”

Rachel blinked, shocked, before murmuring her thanks and hurrying from the room, clearly worried that I would change my mind. The room next to Thalia’s was intended for a lady’s maid, and was far more comfortable than Rachel’s current quarters. I was uncertain that I had made the correct decision in ordering her to move there. I was angry that Rachel would sleep so close to Thalia when I would be rooms away, jealous of having to share her with a mere servant, but I wouldn’t allow my jealousy to interfere with her comfort.

I turned my attention to Jasper to instruct him, but before I had the chance he asked, “We have a guest, sir?”

I frowned. This was the kind of behaviour I found jarring in a servant. Rachel would never speak unless I addressed her first, let alone dream of asking a question. Usually I would lecture Jasper, but with Thalia due to arrive any moment I hadn’t the time. “Yes, we have a guest. You will be waiting on us during dinner. What I said to Rachel applies to you too: you will address our guest as ‘Mistress Thalia’.”

He nodded and when I continued to stare at him hastily added, “Yes, sir.”

I seated myself at the head of the table while Jasper stood rigidly near the door. Several minutes of stiff silence passed before the large double doors opened and Thalia strode inside. I suddenly found myself extremely grateful that I had ordered a set of muggle clothing. For dinner she had donned a black dress that fell to her knees. It was cut so that it clung to her in places, offering an alluring, but not satisfying, glimpse of the curves that lay beneath. Her hair was like fire against the dark material. I knew that I would spend dinner trying not to stare and the rest of the night unable to think of anything but her, and, judging from the small smirk she wore, she knew it too.

Jasper sprang into action, hurrying forwards to pull out her chair. She seated herself gracefully and gifted him with a brilliant smile. I noticed that he seemed very eager to serve her, and the love struck expression on his face confirmed my suspicions. I could hardly blame the boy – Thalia was a very beautiful woman – but if he didn’t learn to keep his tongue in his head he would soon find himself out of a job. I was spared the trouble of having to order him from the room by the dinner bell ringing. Reluctantly, he left Thalia’s side to hurry to the kitchen.

“You have obedient servants,” she noted.

“They fear the consequences of disobedience.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I hope you treat muggles and their magical offspring more fittingly than the dog Greyback.”

I tried to hide my discomfort. If the Dark Lord heard her referring to mudbloods as the magical offspring of muggles then the consequences would be dire indeed. “I treat them better than most,” I said stiffly. “But muggles and the like are lesser beings and should be treated as such.”

“Of course they are lesser, but if anything that means we should look after them. I take care of my muggles.”

Startled, I opened my mouth to question her but shut it again when the door opened. Jasper pushed a trolley laden with food into the room, and it wasn’t appropriate to discuss such things in front of him. Thalia clearly agreed because the passion and fierce intelligence that had shone from her face moments before disappeared, replaced by a bland, pleasant expression.

Jasper placed platters of tender roast beef, baby potatoes covered in butter and steaming vegetables on the table. There was no way that Luke could have prepared this himself in the time he was given; Tilly must have helped him. Usually I would object to my cook receiving magical help, but tonight I was willing to let the incident slide as I wanted to make a good impression. The food served, Jasper lingered over filling Thalia’s goblet with red wine and I was forced to sharply order him from the room.

“Your muggles?” I queried the moment the doors shut.

She took a small sip of her wine, her eyes flickering shut in pleasure, and for a moment I forgot why I was speaking. Why was I talking when it was far more pleasing just to watch her? But after a moment she sighed, pushed her goblet aside and said, “Do you recall me saying that my ancestors isolated my family from the wizarding world?”

“Hundreds of years ago, if memory serves.”

She nodded. “When it was decided that witches and wizards had to go into hiding, we told the muggles in the local village what was to happen. They hated the idea and, in truth, so did my ancestors. They had developed a relationship over the years. The muggles worked in the castle and fields and in return my family used magic to heal their sick, ease childbirth and protect them from outside threats. My ancestors knew this relationship would never be allowed to continue under the new laws. So they cast enchantments around the castle, land and village that isolated us from the outside world. We’ve lived there ever since, at peace with our muggles.”

I was astonished. I could barely believe her tale, but at the same time I knew if her mind was so unbalanced that she could make up and believe this story then the Dark Lord would have discarded her. But I had never heard of anything like it before. Certainly I had heard whispers of such settlements in the remotest areas of the world, but I had never dreamed that one could exist in Britain. “How do you survive?” I asked.

“The muggle population has only grown. They were a small community at the beginning, but today they number more than a thousand. As for my family…” She smiled sadly. “That is why I am here in the outside world. My parents died several years ago, leaving my older brother in charge. An illness took him almost two years ago without his wife ever falling pregnant. Now that we have had a suitable period of mourning, it is my responsibility as head of the family to find pure blood mates for myself and my sister-in-law.”

“You must find a pure blood husband?” I asked, tempted to drag out essays written on the Lestrange genealogy demonstrating our purity of blood.

“You misunderstand. I am not looking for a husband; I am looking for a mate. We are free to marry who we wish, whether pure blood, half blood, muggle born or muggle. But we must produce pure blood heirs, and so our first mates must be of pure blood. As soon as we have produced an heir we are free to leave our pure blood mates and marry as we please.”

“And what happens to your mate?”

She shrugged, spreading her hands. “It varies. They are required to remain in the castle through the pregnancy and birth, but after that they are free to leave. Some choose to marry their mates, as did my mother. Some never see them again. But if they do choose to leave then they are Obliviated as we must protect our secrecy.”

“Then why tell me?” I asked, leaning closer. “If you wish to remain undiscovered, why do you share your secret with me?”

“I have little choice in the matter,” she spat bitterly. “I am wandless, Lestrange. You could pluck the information from my mind if you are sufficiently skilled at Legillimency, or, if you’re not, you could drag it out of me with the Cruciatus curse.”

“Never,” I growled. “I would never hurt you like that.”

She studied me closely, clearly shocked by the feeling in my voice. “Besides which,” she began again slowly, “I cannot fail in my task. I must find mates and so I will be forced to make enquiries within your circle.” Although she smiled sweetly, her eyes burned into mine. She continued in a much quieter voice, “So far you have proved yourself to be an excellent host. It would take a very poor one to betray a guest. I don’t think you will break my confidence, will you, Rabastan?”

I knew I was being manipulated but at that moment I didn’t care. There was something incredibly intimate about her use of my name – the first time she had spoken it – that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. She was right: I would never betray her trust. Not only did I want to keep the trust she appeared to have placed in me, but I would never tell anyone that she was seeking a mate. I was determined to fill that position, although I couldn’t endure the eventual separation that she spoke of so casually. If I was going to have her then it would be forever.

We finished our dinner in silence. More than once I felt Thalia’s eyes on me and I knew she was questioning the wisdom of her decision to confide in me. I wouldn’t reassure her just yet; I was too reluctant to relinquish the power I had over her. It was extremely difficult to keep my eyes fixed on my plate, particularly when I knew I may never have another chance to see in that enticing dress, but my resolve was firm.

When we had eaten our fill I rose to my feet and crossed to her end of the table, pulling out her seat and then offering my arm. She smiled and placed her hand gently on my forearm. “Your servant tells me that she is to be my maid while I am here. Is this true?” she asked.

“It is. I wish to ensure that all of yours needs are catered for.”

Another of her dazzling smiles. “How considerate. Will you call her down here? I wish to bathe and need someone to escort me.”

“Of course,” I said, and stepped back to pull on a velvet covered rope. A bell would ring in Rachel’s new room, alerting her to the fact that she was needed in the dining room. While we waited for her to arrive I said, “This has been a most intriguing evening; I have enjoyed your company greatly. I hope you won’t hesitate to call on me if you need me during the night.”

“I’ll send my new maid if I want you.”

Taking her hand, I raised it to my lips. After her fierce behaviour at Malfoy Manor and her polite performance tonight, I wasn’t sure whether she would accept my kiss gracefully or punch me. But my fears were fruitless: I brushed my lips over her hand and she even allowed the kiss to linger for a moment longer than was necessary before pulling away.

I heard the door open but was unable to drag my gaze away from Thalia. “Rachel,” I said, my eyes never leaving Thalia’s face. “Please escort Mistress Thalia to the baths. Stay with her and take her back to her bedroom when she is finished.”

Rachel murmured her assent and Thalia drew away, leaving me alone. As their footsteps receded down the hallway I ascended the stairs and retired to my bedroom, fully aware that I would be incapable of sleep for hours. The night had taken an unexpected turn. I was unsure whether Thalia’s need for a mate would make my goal easier or harder to achieve. Perhaps she would want someone closer to her own age, without the mark of Azkaban upon him. Someone, for example, like Draco Malfoy. But Draco was a weak, pathetic thing; no match for my Thalia. I could match her passion and will.

I also had the advantage of Thalia being mine, as the Dark Lord had given her to me as a reward. In theory I could claim her now, although I wanted her to come to me. Isolated here, I was almost certain I could make her love me.

I mulled over these thoughts for an hour before a knock on the door disturbed me. “Enter!” I ordered, expecting my visitor to be Jasper there to complete some minor menial task. I heard the door open quietly, footsteps padding over to where I lay on the bed and then nothing. Irritated, wondering what the servant could possible want, I turned to face him and froze.

It was Thalia. She had discarded her dress for a towel, and her long hair hung damp down her back. The curves that had been so tantalisingly displayed all night were now only a thin layer of folded cotton away. Suddenly I could see no reason in waiting. Why couldn’t I claim her here and now, as was my right? I wondered if she knew her appearance rendered my incapable of thought, and decided that was probably her intention. “You told me to call on you if I needed you,” she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

With an effort I said, “I did.” I scrambled most ungracefully to my feet. “What do you need?” Better to get her out of the room as quickly as possible before I forgot my plan entirely.

“I seem to have sustained an injury: a scratch on the back of my head. I’ve cleaned it but I have no wand to heal it.”

“Greyback,” I snarled, anger temporarily overcoming lust.

“I thought it might have been him.”

“Rest assured that I will punish him the next time I meet.”

“As will I the moment my wand is returned to me. But for the moment, could you heal the scratch?”

“Certainly.” I motioned for her to turn her back to me and she obeyed, parting her curtain of hair to expose the cut. I kept a small store of dried lavender and jasmine and she had clearly added a handful to her bath, for her hair was fragrant. I was proficient at healing small injuries but tonight found it extremely difficult to concentrate. The proximity of her body to mine was undeniably distracting, and it was hard to keep my mind from returning to the idea that it would only take a quick jerk to transfer the towel from her body to the floor. I controlled myself, however, and healed the scratch with a shaking hand. When I had finished I lay my hands on her shoulders, smug when my touch raised goose pimples. “All done,” I informed her.

Instead of stepping away, as I expected, she turned in my grasp to face me and took a step closer. We were now barely an inch apart, and she turned her face up to mine. “You never answered my question,” she murmured.

“Which question?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice calm.

“I asked if you would betray my confidence.” As she spoke she moved closer so that we were touching. I was extremely aware of the places where our bodies met, and knew that she could feel my almost painful arousal. I would only have to lower my face an inch, a mere inch, and I could claim her lips as mine.

“No,” I croaked. “I wouldn’t betray you. Never.”

She gave me the same brilliant smile she had given Jasper. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she stood on tiptoe and placed a lingering kiss on my cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured. Then she stepped away from me, out of my grasp and out of the room, leaving me alone.