Isla by armagod679
Summary: Isla Black knows what is expected of her- a marriage to Pureblood Adair Selwyn. But how can she marry him when she loves someone else- someone she could never be with? Here is the story of the first hole on the Black family tree.
Categories: Other Pairing Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 3349 Read: 1621 Published: 06/03/10 Updated: 06/06/10

1. A Fairy-Tale by armagod679

A Fairy-Tale by armagod679
Isla Black was dreamy, to say the least. She was very imaginative, and very romantically minded.

Maybe that was why she couldn’t get him out of her head.

She knew he was a Muggle, and she knew what her parents would say if she were to mention any sort of attachment to a Muggle. Besides, they had already arranged a good marriage for her, to Adair Selwyn, a highly respectable Pureblood man who worked in Magical Law and was much older than Isla.

But she couldn’t help but think of the Muggle.

It was an accident that they had met. Isla had been walking down a busy London street, not far from Grimmauld Place, but far enough that her mother would have conniptions if she ever found out. Isla hadn’t been paying attention. She was simply walking for the pleasure of it, for the sake of being alone for a few minutes. She did that a lot, actually. She didn’t know why.

Isla had always been fascinated by Muggle culture, although she had rarely been exposed to it. Nevertheless, as soon as she was old enough, she had sold a few bits of jewelry- nothing that would be missed, but enough to earn a decent bit of Muggle money, and she had bought herself a dress. It was a Muggle dress, but it befit her station, a long black gown with a matching hat and parasol. She had kept this outfit hidden in her room, but she wore it whenever she went out on the street. It was safer to blend in with the Muggles, although Isla looked richer than most of them.

She had just been thinking of going home when someone came up behind her and whispered, “’Ello, love.” Isla whirled around to see a Muggle man, obvious low-class, sneering at her.

“Excuse me?” she said, startled, though not afraid. She always had her wand hidden in her sleeve, within easy reach. If this peasant tried anything with her, he’d be turned into a dung beetle before he could blink.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Not used to boys like me? And what’s a fine lady like you doin’ down ‘ere, anyway?”

“I am walking,” Isla answered calmly. “That much should be obvious. And I want you to leave me alone.”

“Oh, aye, you want me to leave you alone,” the man said. “But I don’t feel like leavin’ a pretty girl all by herself.”

“OY! Tim!” another voice called.

Isla looked around again to see another young man, slightly cleaner, and much more handsome, striding quickly towards them. To her great shock and horror the young man slipped his arm around her the moment he arrived.

“Why are you botherin’ my girl?” this young man asked. Isla slowly reached for her wand so that she could blast both of them away.

“Your girl?” Tim asked. “Don’t make me laugh! As if you could get a girl like ‘er!”

“Couldn’t I?” the other young man said. “In case you ‘aven’t noticed, I’ve always been more successful on that front than you.”

“But this is a lady, Bob! She’s much ‘igher than us!”

“Are you judgin’ based on ‘er dress?” Bob asked. “Any man worth ‘is salt can buy ‘is girl a fancy dress. Now go away before I’m forced to sweep the street with you.”

Tim glared suspiciously back at Bob, but he walked away. The moment he was out of sight, Bob let go of Isla. She quietly slipped her wand back into her sleeve.

“Sorry about that, miss,” Bob said. “I saw ‘im botherin’ you, and I knew the only was to get ‘im to stop would be to pretend you were mine.”

“Thank you,” Isla said coldly. “I could have handled him myself.”

“Nah,” Bob said. “You couldn’t ‘ave before ‘e did somethin’ terrible to you.”

Isla glared and turned to leave.

“’Old on!” Bob called. “I’d like to know your name in case you ever need ‘elp again!”

Isla turned back. “Fine,” she said. “My name is Isla Black. I’m going home.”

“My name is Bob Hitchens,” he called. “Remember that!”

Isla walked two streets before she Apparated home. She barely had time to change back into her proper robes before her mother came bustling in to tell her all about the wedding that was to take place between Isla and Adair Selwyn.

That night, Isla couldn’t sleep, remembering Bob Hitchens. She supposed he meant well, and he did save her the bother of cursing everything in sight, but even so! He was a Muggle, and she could not disobey the Black family rules.

But she continued to think of him for days. Finally, after a week, Isla could stand it no longer. She waited until her parents were gone- off on another meeting with Adair, who Isla had yet to meet- then she put on her dress and went out. She walked straight back to the street where she had met Bob Hitchens. She wanted to thank him properly this time. And there he was, walking down the street alone, obviously just finished with his work for the day.

He spotted her immediately and Isla could see his surprise. Nevertheless, she pushed through the crowd- why couldn’t Muggles make their streets more efficient?- and met him on the corner.

“Good evenin’, Miss Black,” Bob said when she reached him.

“Good evening, Mr. Hitchens,” Isla said in return. “I wanted to thank you for your help the other night, and I’m sorry if I was a bit rude to you.”

“It was no trouble at all, Miss Black,” Bob said. “And I don’t blame you for being abrupt. But, beggin’ your pardon, you don’t seem to ‘ave a good idea of ‘ow to take care of yourself in this area of London.”

“Don’t I?” Isla asked, not really offended, but slightly miffed. “Whatever do you mean?”

Bob nodded to signal that they should start walking, and as they walked he explained that any woman who wore a dress like Isla’s and traveled alone was asking for trouble. “Tim wasn’t the worst of ‘em,” Bob told her. “’E just flirts with pretty women, but ‘e doesn’t ‘urt ‘em too badly. Some of the blokes, though, they’d do worse to you than Tim could imagine.”

“So I suppose that you’re going to suggest that I wear another dress?” Isla said.

“For a start, yes,” Bob nodded. “And then I’m goin’ to suggest that you start walkin’ with me if you must walk at all. You’d be safer with a man they know on your side. They’re less likely to bother a girl ‘oo’s with someone they know can fight.”

And that’s how it happened. Isla sold a bit more jewelry and bought a simpler dress that would attract less attention, and from then on, she went walking with Bob every evening that she could. They found lots to talk about, even though Isla was always careful not to reveal that she was a witch. She wasn’t sure how Bob would handle it.

Bob was a wonderful man. He loved making Isla laugh, and he did, quite easily. He was sensitive to her every need, and he was always kind to her. He was never offended if she missed a night or two. He told her all about what London was like for the lower classes, and Isla told him as much as she dared about her family. She didn’t mention Adair Selwyn. All she spoke of was the confining life and pride of the Blacks. Bob had nodded and said that he wouldn’t have traded his life for Isla’s any day. Isla loved walking with him, and wished she could spend her entirely life with Bob.

But the more time passed, the less she could get away. Her mother had scheduled her wedding to Adair Selwyn for that summer, and there was nothing that Isla could do about it. She wasn’t at all sure that she’d like Adair, but her family didn’t seem to be concerned about it. Isla had a brother and a sister, both of whom assumed the proposed match was welcome to Isla. Her brother, Phineas Nigellus, had been married a few years before to Ursula Flint by the arrangement of their parents. Isla wasn’t particularly fond of Ursula, but she wasn’t particularly fond of Phineas, either.

Still, she wanted some advice on being part of an arranged marriage, so as soon as she could, she accosted Ursula. “Do you think arranged marriages are a good idea?” Isla asked her sister-in-law.

“Yes, of course,” Ursula answered. “Why else would I have agreed to one? Why do you ask?”

“Well...” Isla licked her lips nervously. “I’m a bit nervous. I mean, I haven’t even met Adair Selwyn. What if I don’t love him?”

Ursula laughed. “You poor, innocent little girl!” she cried. “As if love was a requirement for marriage! Do you honestly think I love that brother of yours? No! But he is Potions-Master at Hogwarts, and with some luck, he’ll be Headmaster one day! What do I care about love as long as he’s a respectable Pureblood?”

“But you must like him a little bit,” Isla pointed out.

“Oh, yes, a little bit,” Ursula agreed. “But I most certainly do not love him, nor would it matter if I did. And you! What are you worrying about love for?”

“I just think that I should love the man that I marry,” Isla said carefully. “I mean, it would make things easier, don’t you think?”

“All right, Isla,” Ursula said. “Let’s pretend for a moment that we live in a fairy-tale world where love is a requirement for marriage. Who would you want to marry then?”

“I don’t know,” Isla answered nervously. It was a lie. In a fairy-tale world where love was the main requirement, she realized that she would marry Bob. “I haven’t met anyone I’d like to marry.”

“Well, how do you know that you won’t want to marry Adair Selwyn?” Ursula asked.

“He’s fifteen years older than I am...”

“Minor problem. Fifteen years isn’t so much when you live to be a hundred.”

“He’s in Magical Law...”

“That’s not a bad thing! He gets paid, doesn’t he?”

“He’s a Selwyn, and they tend to be a bit crazy...”

“You’re a Black. It’s a perfect match.”

“Do you know him, Ursula?”

Ursula nodded. “I’ve met him once or twice at social functions that you’ve always been too young to attend. He’s a good man. And he’s quite good looking for a man his age.” Ursula rose to leave. “Don’t you get yourself all worked up about it. You’ll be perfectly fine. Oh, and your mother was going to tell you, but I’ll go ahead... He’s coming for dinner on Friday, so you can judge for yourself then.”

Isla sank into a chair. She’d promised to meet Bob on Friday, go out for dinner with him... oh well, she’d have to cancel. As soon as she was sure Ursula was gone, Isla put on her Muggle dress and climbed out the window. Her room was on the second floor, and it wasn’t that difficult with magic. As soon as she was far enough away from the house, she Apparated to the street where she met Bob every night. At least she could spend some time with him to take her mind off of things. And he was very understanding when she canceled their dinner date.

She couldn’t help it. Isla had fallen for Bob Hitchens. And when she finally met Adair Selwyn, she only loved Bob more.

Adair, it turned out, was the perfect Pureblood. Rich, Slytherin, very stiff, but just a bit crazy. He was very cold and polite, and Isla did not like the way he looked at her, as though she were a hippogriff at market. He had none of Bob’s charm, none of Bob’s humor, nothing that could make him half as lovable as Bob. Isla was polite to Adair, but she knew that there was no possible way she would ever even like him.

They had absolutely nothing in common. Adair only worried about the law and his own fortunes. He did not seem to think of making Isla love him. In fact, the only thing he said to her during that first dinner was, “Do you think that Muggle hunting should be legal, Miss Isla?”

“Oh!” Isla exclaimed. “Um... well, I think that... seeing as there are so many Muggles... I mean... yes, of course.” It was another lie. She did not want anyone to hurt Bob, or anyone else she saw on the streets. None of them had hurt her, except Tim, but Bob had run him off easily enough, and really Muggles were not as bad as the Blacks claimed. How could she marry a man who would want to kill people who were just minding their own business?

But she had no choice. Adair seemed to approve of her, and Madame Black put the wedding plans into motion immediately. Isla found it increasingly difficult to slip into the streets, but she did more and more often. Seeing Bob, with his ready smile and clear blue eyes, kept Isla from going mad. She didn’t feel guilty about disobeying the most basic rule of the Blacks, which was not to mingle with Muggles, but she did feel guilty about not telling Bob that she was a witch, or that she was supposed to be married soon. She didn’t want to lose him yet. She knew that she would be unable to see him once she was married, and she wanted as much time as possible.

Time sped by, and before Isla knew it, it was June, and the day of the wedding had come. She hadn’t done a thing to prevent it, and she hated herself for it. She should have been rude to Adair, she should have cursed her face to make it ugly, she should have run away. But most of all, she realized, she should have told Bob.

She got up and allowed her mother, her sister, and Ursula to come it and get her ready. She just stood there as they waved their wands and performed a great number of transfigurations and styling spells and whatnot. She didn’t smile. She didn’t cry. She just stood there. Once she was ready, the other women all left. She took a deep breath. The wedding was in half and hour.

Suddenly, her mind began to race and her heart to pound. She would not marry Adair Selwyn. She could not marry Adair Selwyn. If she did, she would surely die. She had to do something.

Before she made any conscious plans, she had already climbed out the window and was sprinting to the place where she would be able to Disapparate. No one was on this side of the house, and in twenty seconds, Isla was gone.

She did not care that she was in her full wedding attire, nor that it was nine thirty in the morning and Bob was unlikely to be on the street at that time. All she knew was that she was not going to stay at Grimmauld Place and marry a man she did not love. She had to marry Bob. She couldn’t see any other option. She had spent weeks with him, talking to him, laughing with him. She loved him, even if he was a Muggle. She didn’t care any more what her family thought.

Incredibly, though, he was there, walking in the opposite direction of the way he went in the evening. He must have been heading off to work. Isla called after him. “Bob!”

He turned, looking very surprised, but pleased to see her. “Isla!” he cried.

She ran to him and threw herself in his arms, sobbing. “Isla,” he repeated. “What’s the matter, darlin’?”

“Oh, Bob, I should have told you from the beginning!” she sobbed. “I should have told you everything... I was almost too late...”

“Are you gettin’ married?” he asked suddenly.

She looked down at herself. “I’m supposed to,” she wailed. “I’m meant to be married in twenty minutes, but... I can’t do it, Bob, I can’t! I’m a witch, my family hates people who aren’t magical, they want me to marry Adair Selwyn, and he’d kill you if he ever found out...”

“Isla!” Bob cried. “Isla, you’re talkin’ crazy. Of course you aren’t a witch, you’re the sweetest girl I’ve ever met... and if you don’t want to marry ‘im, you don’t ‘ave to... God’s sake, love, no one can make you...”

“I know, and they won’t!” Isla declared. “But I am a witch... I mean, I do magic, and so does my family, and they hate people who don’t... it’s so difficult to explain...”

Bob stared at her. “Magic?” he whispered, her meaning sinking in. “But...”

She nodded and pulled her wand from her sleeve. With a slight flick, she made a nearby rosebush change into a fern. No one noticed except the two of them. “That’s what I meant that first night when I said I could take care of myself... but I’m glad you came along. I’m glad I met you.”

Bob hesitated, as if he meant to take a step back, but he didn’t. “Isla,” he finally said. “I wish... I wish you ‘ad told me before, but... I understand why you didn’t. I almost don’t want to believe you... but I do... and it doesn’t matter, as long as you don’t turn me into anythin’... unnatural.” Isla laughed through her tears as Bob grinned. “But I love you,” he continued. “And if you don’t want to marry what’s-‘is-name... would you marry me?”

Isla nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I will marry you. I can’t do anything else.”

Bob smiled at her and took her in his arms. They kissed, and Isla knew she had found the love required for marriage.

*

Dear everyone,

Yes, I ran away from my own wedding. No, I don’t want to marry Adair Selwyn. I think that he is an absolutely horrid man, and I pity the woman who replaces me. Yes, I married someone else, two days after I was supposed to marry that piece of dragon dung. My husband is named Bob Hitchens, and he is the kindest, sweetest man I know. No, he is not a wizard. Who really cares, anyway?

To my parents- please, when Elladora finally gets a suitor, let her have a say in it. It will save a lot of trouble.

To Adair- Your Muggle hunting views are ridiculous and you deserve to be hunted yourself.

To Ursula- I’m truly sorry about your bond to my brother. Fairy-tales can come true, and love is a requirement for marriage.

All of you need to lighten up and not see the world in terms of black and white (no pun intended).

Love,

Isla Hitchens, formerly Black.


Isla nodded and sent the letter with the owl that came looking for her. She wasn’t sorry. She looked at her husband, who shrugged. Bob was willing to learn enough about magic to raise the children well. In fact, he was very enthusiastic about it.

Isla smiled. “What do you call it when two people are satisfied with their life together forever?” she asked.

“’Appily ever after?” Bob suggested.

“Exactly.”
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