Sacred Silence | A Tom Riddle Story

63: This is a happy house.

'Hawthorne?' Grandmother asked her. Shiv nodded. '10 inches.. peculiar core.. is it-'
'A Veela hair,' Siobhan confirmed. 'From my great grandmother on my moms side.'

The whole family was seated in the large living room. All draped in satin, velvet, lace, and covered in jewelry; even the men.
They were waiting for the photographer to finish setting up everything that was needed to make the new and updated Selwyn family portraits. Originally meant to be taken outside, but the ever raging summer storm had made that impossible. Now, all family members were together in this luxurious space, all trying to one up one another.

Siobhan was holding onto he wineglass as if it were the only real thing in the room with her; the steady flow of alcohol made it all more bearable. Her grandmother's intrusive questions, her three cousins bragging, her dad's ever rising temper.
Taking another long sip, she took back her wand and placed it on the side table. Her grandmother looked at her, subtle contempt edged in the hard lines on her face.

'Not easy to master, hawthorn,' the old woman said eventually. 'Complex and intriguing.. it's a strange, contradictory wood.'
Shiv had to take her word for it. Her grandmother had studied wand lore in her youth, something she had given up when she married her husband and was forced into submission. A woman with an education and job: a scandal. Yet she had made the role her own, embracing her place and teaching her sons to expect nothing but the same from their wives.

'The Veela hair though,' grandmother continued, disgust now not at all hidden. 'Temperamental, unreliable. In my opinion, too sensitive to the emotions of the wielder.'

Shiv nodded absently. Her wand had never failed her. She found that instead of sensitive and strange, her wand had always been very in tune with her feelings. It had certainly never let her down in her academics. The best O.W.L. results Hogwarts had seen in half a century..
This fact had only been briefly celebrated. Altair had been proudest, grabbing an ancient bottle of champagne and forcing at least the four siblings to celebrate. Her dad had shaken her hand, and a couple of days later, he gave her a pair of emerald earrings as a gift. No words of congratulations were said.

'Siobhan,' one of her cousins called from the other side of the room. 'Siobahn dear, come here.'
Three good-looking witches with straight, jet black hair in their mid-twenties were standing huddled together, fixing last-minute details in their appearance.

Shiv reluctantly got up from her spot and made her way over. Her floor-length green dress, embedded with emeralds along the neck and sleeves, was billowing behind her, its train dragging across the floor in the process. The pearls around her neck felt almost as heavy as the dress itself.

'Your corset could be a little tighter,' her oldest cousin Etherea chirped, motioning for Shiv to turn around so she could fix this evidently serious problem.
And so Shiv did. She stared out of the window, following a droplet of rain that made its way down. Allowing the alcohol in her system to dull her senses, she underwent the last minute touch ups to her dress jewelry and hair. By the time her cousins were done, the corset left little room to breathe.

After a little while, the photographer told them he was ready. There were individual and family ones to be made. They would sit, the wizard would do a rough outline on canvas, take a couple of pictures, and the next in line could take their place.

First in line were her grandmother and her sons. After her husband died, which Shiv suspected she wasn't all too sad about, there hadn't been an updated one. This had been the cause of this whole need for new ones.
Shiv watched as her father stroked his beard and cleared his throat as he stepped into place behind his mother and placed a light hand on her shoulder. It was a strange, gentle touch that looked unfamiliar coming from him. Shiv lit a cigarette.