3 August 1893
Over the next several days, once I'd moved her portrait to my room in the Three Broomsticks, Noctua opened up about her theories. She didn't know for certain who in the Lestrange family might have had the means or motivation, but she suspected most of them were capable of it. Most purebloods would stop at nothing if given the chance, she reminded. Her great-grandfather had murdered his own brother after marrying his sisters into rival families, all to sow fear and blood ties, ensuring the House of Gaunt remained in their traditional status of power.
"Your grandfather was the reason negotiations between my father and the Lestranges did not proceed as planned. His father, Radolphus, and mine were close associates, and there was talk for several months of my sister and I marrying the Lestrange brothers," Noctua explained, looking down at her lap, her cheeks seeming to redden. "My father had some beliefs about twins and how our marriages could...yield more powerful children."
I teased my lip, curious but not enough to ask her to elaborate. Any theories I'd heard from that family were awful, at best, and I was sure this could be no exception.
Noctua pursed her lips, eyes meeting mine. "Faustus did not wish for our marriages to take place, at all, but his father was a master of compromise. Since I was already betrothed, Carina was set to marry the heir instead of me. Rolf had been enamoured with her since Hogwarts, and he must have taken it poorly. She never shared the details, but he often made her feel uncomfortable after that."
Noctua paused thoughtfully. "Did you receive a rowan heartwood box with my portrait?"
I remembered it well, as I had neither requested it nor been able to open it to see what was inside. My assumption had been it had been in the Gravesend house and the Gaunts did not want it, but Noctua clarified that she had specifically asked her brother to send it to me. Somehow, she'd managed to convince him without making the box seem too valuable, and she seemed relieved.
"It was meant for Ominis, once he was old enough," she explained. "Memories I saved over the years. Some of them may be useful to you, though."
Opening it required a spoken password, but when I asked Noctua what it was, she said she didn't know. Her real self would doubtlessly have kept that information safe, even from her own portrait. The answer, I figured, would have to wait until Saturday, when I'd finally arranged a visit with Ominis and Anne in Feldcroft
–-
5 August 1893
I swallowed hard before finally rapping on the heavy wooden door before me. My heart was racing. Not only would this be my first time seeing my Ominis since before he'd awakened, I could hardly ignore the fact that he was now a married man–and that I hadn't been invited to the wedding.
Even though they were expecting me, I already felt like an unwelcome intruder.
The door creaked as it opened, and I came face-to-face with a very pale Anne. I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath as I took in the dark circles beneath her eyes and how her waxy skin seemed to stretch tightly over her cheekbones. In many ways, she looked worse than she had the day I'd met her.
"Good morning, Eleanor," Anne greeted breathily, her tight smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Lovely to see you."
She clearly was not happy to see me, too. Wonderful. "And you, Anne," I replied, unable to stop the concern in my voice.
Anne's eyes widened before either of us could say anything else, one hand coming up to cover her mouth as she steadied herself with the other. She somehow looked even more exhausted.
"Are you alright?" I asked urgently, reaching for her.
She flinched, shying away from me. "I'm fine," she insisted, despite her ragged breaths.
"Are you sure? It's not the curse returning, is it?"
Anne scoffed, finding a chair and sinking into it. She reached for a glass of water on the kitchen table, taking a sip. "Just a bit ill, I'm afraid."
What rotten luck, I thought as I joined her at the table. She and Ominis had been married less than a week. "Perhaps you should rest?"
She smiled, seeming...anxious? "No, I can't. I have Ominis to tend to. He..." she trailed off, taking a few deep breaths.
"Anne," his voice drifted from the bedroom as if on cue.
She started to stand, but I lay my hand on her hand gently. "I'll go," I offered. She shot me a grateful look and nodded.
I crossed the room before rapping on the open door. "Ominis?"
He invited me in warmly, clearly recognising my voice. Ominis was propped up in a sitting position on the bed, an empty tray in his lap from whatever he'd had for lunch. I noticed a wheelchair nearby, and immediately understood why he hadn't been there to greet me at the door. Despite his obviously weakened state, he was dressed for company, making me grateful I'd arranged to call on them instead of simply showing up unannounced.
"Did you need something?" I asked gently as I approached. As I did, the air in the room seemed to grow heavier. I wondered how he could breathe. Perhaps he wished the window to be opened for some fresh air.
He shook his head, gesturing absentmindedly to his tray, which I took from him to set aside before perching on the chair beside him. "I did not realise you had arrived yet," he finally said, a cool smile settling onto his features.
The expression struck me as odd. Ominis and I had been close friends since the end of fifth year. Why would he suddenly seem so distrustful? "Only just," I replied, trying to brush it off. An uneasy feeling had begun to settle in. It crawled up my spine, digging in icy talons.
"I apologise for not greeting you." He gestured toward his left leg. "The healers say walking will become easier, but for now I'm...limited."
I winced, not only because of his words, but because I was beginning to understand the feeling all around me: magic. I remembered Professor Hecat once lecturing about how certain enchantments could almost seem palpable, and I wondered if the Sallows had placed new wards around the cottage.
"Pair it with the fact that my wand was apparently destroyed," he added with a raised brow, "and I'm afraid my mobility is remarkably decreased these days."
Tears pricked my eyes, and I was unable to keep the whimper from my voice as I apologised to him for the first time since he'd awakened.
The thick and heavy magic around us seemed to lift as his hand reached for mine. When I placed my palm against his, his fingers were as cold as ice. "It seems our score is even," Ominis observed casually.
This time, I shivered. He sounded too much like Corvinus with those words.
"You mentioned you had some things to give me?" he continued, changing the subject entirely, and reminding me of the person I'd called friend for two just over two years.
Blowing out a breath, I shifted, reaching for my bag. "I was able to save a few things before your parents sold your house."
His eyes brightened and he seemed to sit up straighter. "You...what?" His words were breathless, disbelieving.
I smiled, the tears threatening to fall again as I produced a journal, which I knew belonged to him. He ran his fingers over the initials engraved in the leather binding thoughtfully as I pulled out and enlarged Noctua's portrait back to its full size. His head shifted toward the sound in confusion.
"Hello, Ominis," she said kindly after a moment. I watched her survey him, concern etched on her face.
Ominis' eyes widened as he sucked in a gasp. "Aunt Noctua," he whispered.
The sound of retching from the next room drew my attention. Ominis seemed torn, and I offered to check on Anne to give him and the portrait a moment. He reached for my hand, squeezing it with a heartfelt thanks that I knew was meant for more than simply checking on his wife.
I found her kneeling over a pail in the kitchen, shaking. The awful smell assailed my nose as I approached and I covered my nostrils and mouth, trying to focus on helping her to her feet and to the small sofa nearby.
"I'm sorry. The past few days have been..." she trailed off.
"Please, don't apologise for anything," I assured her, though I had to admit, becoming ill so soon after her wedding must have been awful. I'd always understood this to be a happy time for newlyweds, and it seemed quite the opposite at that moment. I placed my hand on her forehead, finding it clammy and cool. No fever, at least, I thought.
I stood, crossing to the kitchen and vanishing the evidence of her sickness before searching the cabinets. "Do you have any potions, which might help?"
She nodded. "I've stocked a few from Mrs. Thistlethwaite on the far right. They're pink."
I found them easily, though they weren't marked. She had quite a lot of them, too.
"And could you possibly bring me an oatcake?" Anne asked sheepishly. "They've been helping sometimes, too."
I couldn't help but question that request, but I grabbed one for her anyway. She took both gratefully, and when she unstoppered the potion phial, I smelled the strong scent of peppermint and something else I couldn't quite identify. Anne sipped the potion cautiously before nibbling a bit on the oatcake. I sat with her for a few more minutes before returning to the room, where Noctua was engaged in quiet conversation with her nephew.
"How long?" he asked timidly.
"A few months, perhaps less," she replied gently. "Though I doubt they'd admit that to anyone else."
Ominis opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it when he sensed my presence. "How is Anne?"
"Better," I told him. "I hope she recovers quickly."
Ominis sighed. "As do I."
Knowing both of them well enough to know it wasn't worth asking what they'd been talking about, I broke the silence by taking the wooden box from my bag and handing it to Ominis. "I also received this, though I wasn't certain why at first." I glanced at Noctua's portrait. "It appears our aunt insisted."
His fingers slid along the polished sides of the box, quickly finding the latch and trying to open it with no success. His brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I'm not quite sure–"
"There is a password," Noctua told him. "Something between you and I. Something that only the two of us would know."
Ominis looked puzzled as he absentmindedly fiddled with the latch. I realised I was holding my breath when after a few moments, he shook his head, clearly unable to produce the answer. "I'll have to think on it."
My mind had been reeling for days since Noctua had told me someone in the Lestrange family might be responsible for my parents' deaths. To say I was disappointed in that moment would have been an understatement.
We talked briefly after that, but Ominis seemed keen on ending the visitation, so I took my leave shortly after. It felt odd bidding Noctua goodbye, and she also seemed quite sad at our parting. Revelations about my family aside, her portrait had filled a hole in my life, which I hadn't known I'd needed filled.
"Take care of yourself, Eleanor," were her final words to me before I left.
Despite the empty promises of continuing to visit, I knew from the look in Anne's eyes as I bid them farewell that I wasn't truly welcome. It stung a bit to not know when I might see them again, but when Ominis promised to write, I knew he was being honest, at least.
I couldn't help but noticehow the air became easier to breathe the further I got from Feldcroft.
--
A/N: I am so sorry for the wait. It's been too long, I know. I'm sorry. Life has been difficult for me the past few months. I am still writing the story, though. I hope you'll be patient as I post the new chapters as I am able.