Love, Marriage and Politics in the 1800s

There hadn't been much to do since she'd arrived at Mulciber's party. Her whole reason for attending at the party was unclear other than the fact that Helena--who herself knew little about the occasion save for the fact Xerxes Mulciber had done something involving Quidditch--had dragged her here. This was one of the least enjoyable aspects about spending time in London; as much as she loved her cousin and the liveliness of the capital compared to the relative stillness of the North, the endless parties for non-entities was a chore. She'd been bored since the moment she had arrived at this rather small, poky little house in which seemingly hundreds of people had crammed themselves in. After being followed around by some ageing letch --who promised her the world if she nipped around the back with him, and who had left her alone after threats of torture, the Cruciatus, and finally her father, Regina soon got fed up with sneering at deeply unpleasant men. She eventually ended up finding a small, shadowy room with nobody inside and sat down on a small couch. In the right company she knew she was the Queen Bee; both men and women flocked to her and those who didn't were left infuriated on the fringes of the crowd. Sadly this was not the right company. Helena was flitting around some poor Malfoy boy, who looked absolutely terrified. Regina herself was staying put for fear of again being molested by the ancient charmer who was still nosing around for all she knew.

Regina's thoughts turned to the last party she'd been to at that godforsaken Rosier house. The purple walls could still inspire headaches when thought about and Clementina Black's shrieks still haunted some of her more lurid nightmares. The main compensation of the party had been Phineas, who was easily the most extraordinarily good looking man she'd ever seen, as well as being witty, charming, and intelligent to boot. Her arms began to tingle slightly, remembering where he'd kissed his way up her arms, breastbone, neck and finally her mouth. Her stomach felt quite unsettled and her desire grew as the thoughts lingered on.

Thankfully, they'd not been caught. She would have been a completely ruined woman, forced to marry the elderly letch and spend the remainder of his life as a breeding machine until he kicked the bucket and left her with no money and a ton of moaning brats to support. Unless her mam killed her first, which would be a better option than marrying a pensioner by any stretch of the imagination. Worse still, maybe no pureblood would touch her and she'd have to marry a half-blood, or a Muggle-born, or even-- dear God --a Muggle. They'd find her swinging from a tree before that happened. In any case, these irrational thoughts were pointless because they hadn't been caught and despite wishing he was here, he wasn't. She was beginning to understand why, at the age of sixteen her mother sat her down and told her about a married woman's duty to her husband. She already knew though, because Albert had spent three months fearing for his life when Lara Dolohov had thought she was pregnant and then got drunk with rabid joy when he found out she wasn't. She wondered what her mam would have thought of her eldest son then.

The more she thought about Phineas, the more she realised that she had been rather interested in the bulge in his robe that evening. She also realised that was treading a dangerous line because they'd gone a bit too far on their first meeting, so God only knows where the next one could lead. Lost in thought, she was only dimly aware of someone coming in the room and throwing themselves onto the couch beside her. She gazed dreamily into the shadows and watched as the sinister features of Wulfric Lestrange came into the glow of small candle. In the dim light, his eyes sparkled madly and his grin seemed almost wolfish. Feeling vaguely repulsed, Regina shifted away from him and sneered.

"Why, Miss Earnshaw, I don't bite, you know. Although with someone as soft and delicious as you, I might be tempted to do so. You're rather like a poisoned sweet, I would think."

He leaned in towards her and went to place his pale hand on her knee. Regina clutched her wand and he moved back slightly. He wore a sneer to match her own as he warily eyed her wand.

"Don't worry. I shan't touch a scumblood Earnshaw like you."

"I'm a scumblood? On the contrary, Lestrange, it's you and your inbred, incestuous family of murderers and loons that are the scumbloods. I heard about you trying to curse Wilfred Longbottom, my cousin, and he isn't impressed with you at all. If my father and brothers hear about this then you're going to need a will. Bastards, the lot of you."

Her laughed and leaned back, staring at her without blinking. He ran his long fingers up the length of his thigh before reaching out to grab her knee again. She shifted away from him, pushing his fingers away. He laughed again, this time reaching for her thigh with one hand and her arm with the other. She jumped back, stuck her wand onto the back of his hand and cursed him. A bright red burn spread across his pale hands. Lestrange fell back, muttering swear words under his breath while soothing his hand with water from his own wand. Regina felt herself breath in and out deeply, watching for any sudden movements before she saw his eyes rise up to her chest that rose and fell, and a look of insane lust spread across his face. She pulled her dress up as high as it would go and moved her arms so they covered her chest, involuntarily gazing towards his legs, where she could she see the same bulge in his robe that Phineas had had when he was with her. Taking advantage of this delay, Lestrange launched towards her and grabbed her arms tightly and pushed his face close to hers, his grip tightening as she struggled to get free.

"Remember that we are in the shadows, Miss Earnshaw. Cruel things happen in the dark to young women, especially those who are a tease. You shouldn't tease men so, because when we have the wrong idea, we don't know when to stop."

His hands moved from her arms to her face and he pulled her head down. Lestrange sniffed her hair deeply before giving her a kiss on the crown of her head and lifting her head so they were face to face again. Regina tried to push him away before spitting into his face. She clawed at his arms, trying to pry his hands off. Lestrange laughed again and pulled her face so close to his that she could feel his warm breath on her mouth.

"Until next time, you filthy Earnshaw whore."

"You can sod off too you inbred Lestrange bastard."

He loosened his grip and she pushed him back as hard as she could. Lestrange staggered back before standing up, wiping the spittle from his face and smoothing his black robes down. He turned from her without another word and walked back to the party. She heard him laughing to himself as she shook with fury. Regina rubbed the top of her head trying to rid of herself of his filthy kiss. It still lingered horribly, shamefully. The only word she could have used to describe her feeling at this moment was outrage. Well actually it wasn't, but she'd be tempted to shout back at him, which would lead to her being ejected from the building and be put on some form of social black list. Bloody Lestrange, what was the point in letting loons like him roam the planet when by rights they should have been drowned at birth? Regina had rarely ever felt as angered and frustrated than she was now. She was being perused by a pensioner, harassed by a degenerate, and to top it all, she was trapped in the most uninspiring company since the Saxon wizarding families had been invaded by the Frogs about eight hundred years ago. On contemplation, it wasn't worth bothering to rejoin the party for fear of being bored to death by talk of Quidditch. Quidditch? For God's sake what was it that men found fascinating about a bunch of gormless fools flying around trying throw balls through hoops? Idiots, the lot of them. Her scorn for both Quidditch and men came to an abrupt halt when the skinny figure of Helena came bounding through the door. Somewhere along the line the terrified Malfoy boy had disappeared. Helena bounded over and practically threw herself on the couch, leaning back and stretching out her arms, before sitting up right and gazing at Regina. On reflection, perhaps Helena shouldn't have picked that pale pink dress with the low neckline because she couldn't really fill it. Honestly, some people should be vetted before they left the house.

"Regina, where have you been at all? It's a most wonderful party." At this Regina almost keeled over in shock. A wonderful party? Was Helena on illicit potions? "Silvanus, the young man I was talking to, he's such a darling and he's promised that he's going to arrange some meetings between us soon. Imagine if I marry into the Malfoy family, just think. If they weren't all talking about bloody Quidittch it would be even better. Surely this is just a man thing, don't they have better things to talk about? I tried to get Silvanus to discuss the new theory on transfiguration techniques in Ancient Greece but he brought it back to Puddlemere United. Why? They complain about women being 'empty-headed, and then look bored the instant you bring up something intelligent."

"Fascinating, excuse me if I vomit in excitement. I hope you won't hold it against me."

"Oh Regina. What's gout you in such a bad mood? If it's that old man, don't worry. He's been sent away for drinking the good red wine and passing out in the front garden. Xerxes has never looked so ashamed in his life-- apparently it's a friend of his uncle's. Anyway, you're going to have to move in a minute because people are starting to ask where you've got to, even Wulfric Lestrange, though I didn't answer him. The man's an infidel and his eyes are shifty. Besides this sulking in a back room makes you seem like a person with something to hide."

With that, Helena pulled on the sleeve of Regina's dress, causing it to drop down to what could only be described as a dangerous level, and made her move out of the room. With great reluctance, Regina followed into the crowded room wove her way through the crowds to where a group of young wizards in dress robes stood. It was mainly braying loudly about Quidditch though rather bizarrely at one point it was pansies in bloom and the menace of garden slugs. Above their heads, small fairies flew about, a multitude of pale blues, pastel pinks, mint greens and light yellows, dropping sparkling silver dust onto their heads. This worked better on some than others, as Frances Warrington looked like she had dandruff, the poor girl. With great effort, she turned her attention back to the conversation and saw that two new wizards had joined the conversation. One was Silvanus Malfoy, whose pale grey eyes nervously looked around, it seemed the famous Malfoy confidence had skipped him entirely, and the other had turned his back to them.

"I say," echoed the booming voice of Brutus Flint, a hugely fat young man who was a couple of years above her at school, stared at her with watery blue eyes. Despite this, he was a bit of a darling, if not quite her type. "Aren't you girls supposed to have chaperones? You know, to stop any hanky panky from going on in the bedrooms or in the stables?"

"Brutus, what century are you living in? Nobody has chaperones any more." came Helena's incredulous voice.

"Unless they're Muggles or the unfashionable. In which case, suicide is the only option" Regina sighed. Brutus stared at her with concern and possibly just a hint of intoxication.

"That's the sixth time you've mentioned suicide recently. You know they do some wonderful potions for distressed women now. My mother swears by them."

"I'm not surprised. I'd be swearing by them, too, if I had to get in the same bed as your father every night. In fact I'd lock myself in a room and swig them all day if that was my life. However, she has you, and you are a love, which must stop her from going completely mad."

Regina knew this was a cruel thing to say but she was past caring. The boredom of the party and the frustration caused by not being able to smack Wulfric Lestrange over the head was now being expressed by insulting various people in the room. Brutus, bless him, was staring at her with a look of both anger and appeasement at being called "a love." On the other side of her, Helena was continuing to traumatise Silvanus Malfoy into a quivering wreck by trying in vain to get off the subject of Puddlemere United, which only added to Regina's irritation. Unable to accurately guess how much more of this was bearable, she let out a noise of fury and stormed her way through the group, knocking into various people. Oblivious to the angry mutters of many she pushed her way through the people and strode towards the doors, getting more and more ill tempered as the sodding idiots refused to move more quickly. As she reached the door, she felt a hand grab her arm and pull her back slightly. Snarling, she turned to see the amused face of Phineas Nigellus staring at her, one eyebrow raised and a smile playing at his lips. Regina decided she might as well vent some of her anger on him and sneered as she grabbed the silver goblet he had extended to her and threw half the wine down her throat.

"Where the bloody hell have you been? I have had to spend at least five hours in the company of infuriating idiots, also known as men, babbling on about Quidditch and the like and seeing my own cousin slowly scaring a poor boy to death while trying to get him interested in Ancient Greece. And all the bloody time you were here. I could kill you, do you know that?"

"You've been having a lovely time then? I sympathise with you. I couldn't help but eavesdrop on your conversation with Flint. Perhaps you should keep your voice in check though; I think there may have been a few people in Newcastle who didn't hear you that well. His father is a bit of a nightmare. At my father's funeral service, he fell asleep and snored loudly during the eulogy. Then again if it had been the other way around my father would have done the same thing."

Regina smiled and took a sip of wine to cool down the sudden flush that had overcome her.

"This is why the older generation are dangerous. They didn't have the freedoms we have and now they are desperately clinging to the hope they are still youthful-- daft sods. To be honest this is much better than your cousin's party but much worse than Juterna Traver's party the other week. Now that was a good one. Some man came down dressed in his wife's new dress and said he wanted everyone to call him Beryl. So, how has the wonderful world of teaching been going on then? New battles being discussed, chasing up on pupils with unfinished homework, eavesdropping on others? You must have learnt that talent somewhere."

"Not really, I just have exceptionally good hearing."

"I don't think so. It's because I have an exceptionally loud voice."

His eyes twinkled and he smiled warmly. Now feeling much better, Regina began to relax for what seemed to be the first time all night and sipped on her remaining wine. Her mood improved all the more when she saw Wulfric Lestrange stalk out of the room, giving her the foulest look as he left. He slammed the door so hard that various people looked up to see what the noise was, including Phineas. She took this opportunity to study him better. Unlike their last meeting, in which they had been a pair of gushing fools, she saw that he was far from perfect. His nose was slightly bent to the left and in certain lights it gave him a rather beaky look, barely noticeable, but there all the same. His eyebrows could do with a bit of a trim too, any longer and he wouldn't be able to see. Still, he was probably thinking similar thoughts about her. Good God, she's a bit bigger than I remember her. The cheeky bugger, how dare he?

"You've never actually told me how your job was going," she inquired, realising that he'd been looking at her strangely. "It doesn't seem like two years since I left. In fact it seems like only yesterday I practically ran to the carriages thinking 'I will never have to do Ancient Runes again.'"

"It's the summer holidays at the moment, so this is possibly my last party before I go back. I don't know which is worse, any more of these gatherings or a screaming load of adolescents running wild. Last year I caught sixteen couples hiding in my classroom. I never found out what the stains on the desk were, though I have a shrewd idea. We never did that in my day."

"Oh, I'm sure you did."

He smiled at her and she felt a warm feeling tingle in her arms. Regina let out a deep sigh and stared at a ridiculously ornate clock that was ticking towards midnight. She could already see Mrs Mulciber, a formidable looking witch with deep creases of disapproval across her forehead, charge towards the crowds with her wand out.

"Don't look now," she whispered at Phineas as Mrs Mulciber stopped dead in front of a drunken man, who was clutching on to a table and groaning deeply. "I feel there may be an explosion about."

Mrs Mulciber's face slackened with barely suppressed fury as she leant down and smacked the man sharply on each cheek, creating a bright red flush on his chubby jowls. However instead of waking him up, he promptly passed out and lay still on the floor. With a yell of fury she pointed her wand at the man and sent him skidding out the front door with a pale blue jet of light before turning on the rest of them, her screams drowning out the chime of clock striking midnight.

"OUT! I WANT YOU ALL OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW! AND IF YOU DON'T DO AS I SAY THEN I'LL CURSE YOU OUT! FOULING MY HOUSE UP WITH DRINK AND DEBAUCHERY! I WON'T STAND IT! XEXRES MULCIBER, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU FOR THIS! OUT, GET OUT, ALL OF YOU!"

"I think this is our cue to make a move Regina. As I am going back to that madhouse in a week or so, I wonder if I could take your address. I go back to London for weekends you see, and I would like to see you again."

"That would be lovely. I'd like to see you again too."

Dodging the many spells that Mrs Mulciber was casting left, right and centre, Regina made her way with Phineas to open door-- through which many people were running or being flung through, as Regina gave Phineas her addresses, both London and Lancashire. After moving away from the door and therefore out the way of any stray spells, she stood in silence, staring up at the deep blue sky, where thousands of little silver dots where scattered. She turned and smiled at Phineas, who was staring at her with the same amused expression as before. Feeling rather annoyed, Regina glared at him and poked him in the arm.

"What?"

Grinning, her pulled her arm and kissed her deeply. He tasted rather sweet actually, and he bit the bottom of her lip gently, making her gasp. Hidden by the shadows and in the drunken company they were in, nobody noticed and nobody cared. Until, of course, he pulled away abruptly as a flustered Helena staggered over to them.

"I take it back. If I ever have to marry anyone, let alone Silvanus Malfoy, it will be too soon. Regina, we're going home."

"I think you should get her home, otherwise she might fall over in trauma. Take care ladies, and don't forget to write to me. I'd stay but I think that dealing with indignant young women builds character. Goodbye."

With a wink he turned and Disapparated into the night. As Regina propped up a fuming Helena she stared at the spot where Phineas just stood. How rude was he? He could have at least stayed and done his duty as a gentleman and helped them. As she dragged off Helena, ready for them both to Disapparate, she saw that Phineas had dropped an ornate silver watch, with a serpent carved into the cover. Deciding to vent the last of her frustration on the watch, Regina picked it up and flipped it open. With a malicious intent inside her, she pocketed it; it would a nice souvenir, and possibly a bargaining tool if he ever wanted it back again. Sighing happily, she allowed Helena to drag her off and Disapparated back home, hopefully to get a good sleep that was for once not punctuated with snores.