Our Corrupted Souls

Part XVI: The Witches' Game.

"Never wound a snake; kill it."
                           ~ Harriet Tubman

23, November 1981

In Britain, almost everyday is welcomed with a storm, or at least, a form like it. Today, as Daria Greengrass looked out the window of her home, a heavy cloud occluded the statues that brought life to her garden. A heavy mist managed to make the already dreadful day much more ominous. Her worries, it seemed, had been visible, for it was not long before long arms were wrapped around her body and hands rubbed the bump she'd began to have. Lennox came to rest his chin on her shoulder and plant a tender kiss on her cheek. "Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something."

The woman chuckled upon hearing her husband's words. "Plato," she mumbled in return. "Yes," whispered the man. "You'll do fine, promise." Daria turned around without allowing Lennox's arms slip from her body. "That's not what worries me... Lestrange, she knows. I've seen it, Lennox. She might be oblivious to our allegiance with the boy, but she knows I did something to her vault. It is only a matter of time until she comes to the truth. Until you are forced to make your allegiances known."

"And when that happens, I will stand by you, my dear," answered Lennox, eyes melting into her own. "But, Potter has made it clear, if she knew something, she would be dead. Whether by his hand or mine. None of us, him nor I will allow her to come close and harm you or my child."

Daria rested her forehead on Lennox's shoulder to hide her smile. "You paint me as a dove."

"To me you are the most delicate thing, your past means nothing to me."

"Then your are a fool."

"Or a loverboy."

Daria slipped from Lennox's grasp with a playful shove. The blond's head fell back with a laugh before walking closer to his wife and with delicate fingers pushing he chin up and connecting their lips in a gentle kiss. When the two pulled away to catch their breaths, Lennox whispered, "you are my ravenclaw girl. You will be alright. Now go before you are late."

"Hm." Daria returned a light peck in the lips before slipping from Lennox's arms and making her way to double white oak doors, each styled with similar carvings of tall grasses and pebbles. The fine wood had not aged once since the manor had been made, and would not unless the house was purposely tore down. 

~*~

Daphne was gone now, Lennox's mother had taken her to spend some time with her grandchild, but there was still another kid Daria wanted to check on before slipping to her evaluation. She made her way down the staircase, across the ballroom styled with granite pillars and polished floors, to a small door of no importance - at least that is what everyone thought. Apart from being too carved in all sorts of detailed designs, the door seemed to be that of a closet, but when it was opened, a blinding light flooded in. The back entrance to the library was discrete, enough for Daria to slip in before the boy in the middle of the spacious room to notice. The library consisted of two floors. Books from before the Greengrass family had acquired such riches, where kept here. Many were detailed records of the past, entries of creatures the ancestors had encountered, while others were more recent, some even written by Daria herself, who hoped her children would read them someday. Three walls were bookshelves, the second floor only provided enough room for one person to walk through if they did not know what they wanted, but apart from that, one could just call for the book they wished. 

In the middle of the room, slept a boy with his head resting on his arms, which laid against the last book he had read. There were scrolls and books all around him, all of them opened to specific pages that had been bookmarked for him to refer back to. Each sheet of loose parchment paper blew softly against his body, engulfing it until he was under a blanket of loose sheets. He wore loose robes fit for a boy his age. These was what he changed into after he had made a habit of coming here at night to study on a ritual he had not informed Daria of. He always changed out of gratitude for the family that treated him with such care.