The Woods
The wedding of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black on 15th July 1978 had passed that morning without any difficulties.
The newlyweds and their guests had then walked from the chapel on the edge of the Malfoy estate to the formal gardens. Speeches were made and lunch was served, after which the couple disappeared, to no-one’s surprise, and the guests took advantage of the Malfoys’ absence to enjoy the food and wine provided and a rare chance to explore the estate.
Gloria Greengrass, a soft-featured girl with blonde hair, was bored. Her older brother Hector was too busy trying to get his girlfriend alone to keep an eye on Gloria, as he was supposed to do. She took another sip of wine. She had just turned fifteen and therefore only recently been allowed to drink wine, and she was feeling slightly giddy. She looked around restlessly and smiled when she saw Winston Flint. He was a year older than her, but also one of her closest friends, and when he nodded towards the woods on the hill bordering the formal gardens,she followed him.
Winston glanced at Gloria. They were walking in the forest and sunlight was falling through the leaves onto her smooth pale skin. She was beautiful, he thought as he watched her lips whistle with the birds and her blonde hair bounce with her step.
They had talked about the Malfoys and the ceremony and how dull it had been, and then Gloria had begun naming the different birds they had heard and occasionally glimpsed darting through the branches. For several minutes now they had been walking in silence, the only sound their footfalls on the grass. The air was warm and still, with no wind to cool or shift it.
They were not holding hands, but their fingers occasionally grazed each others’, and Winston moved his hands more consciously than Gloria did. She, however, did not seem to have noticed.
Suddenly, Gloria said, “Next April, you should come to Goldengrove, when the bluebells are in bloom. In spring, the forest floor is covered in bluebells.”
“That would be lovely.”
“That is““” she began, but stopped abruptly, in her step and her speech. Winston realised and stilled a step later, turning to face her. “Winston, if I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone else, or to tell Mama I told you?”
“Of course,” he replied immediately, thinking he would be unable to refuse her anything.
“Thank you,” she said, beaming up at him, before walking on with a frown creasing her brow as she spoke. “Mama says if Hector doesn’t marry soon, we’ll lose Goldengrove. That would be awful.”
“Helen Clearwater adores him; he just has to get the guts to ask her.”
Gloria picked a leaf off the lowermost branch of a tree and began slowly tearing it to pieces in her fingers. Her fingers were small and delicate, and Winston, despite knowing the need to watch where he put his feet in the forest, kept on glancing at them.
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” she murmured. “He says he loves her and doesn’t want her to marry into a family as penniless as ours.”
Winston snorted. “He’ll propose eventually; he’s not that pure-hearted. And her parents will just be delighted if Helen doesn’t marry a Mudblood like her brother did. You always think people are better than they are.”
Gloria laughed, and the sound made the hairs on Winston’s arms stand on end, even though it was a soporifically warm day.
“I’m not as naive as you think I am, Winston. I like nature, but I don’t idealise it. I know that although it seems calm and still and beautiful to us, it’s really quite violent. I watched seven magpies attack a hawk once, and I think it’s one of the most violent and glorious things I’ve ever seen.”
She was speaking quietly, as if to herself more than to him, and Winston frowned, unsure whether she expected him to say something or not.
She looked up at him and smiled. “It’s tooth and claw. Most things want to bite or sting or kill you. Like““what’s that?” she said, pointing to an expanse of plants by the side of the vague path they were taking. The plants had small white clumps at their head.
“You told me earlier. Wild garlic.”
“No, Winston. Hemlock. It’s poisonous and even a few of its leaves would kill you. City boy,” she said, shoving him.
“Hey!” he said, punching her gently back, “Country girl.”
He wished he had not said that, and his smile faded. The year before he had overheard his older brother getting drunk with his boorish friends while his wife was in labour with their second child. One of the friends had used a word which Winston had not known but thought harsh, provoking crude laughter. He had looked it up in the dictionary and had blushed then, and was blushing now at the thought that the word’s origin came from “country”, hence his being reminded of it. Before he had heard the word he had often thought of Gloria as “a country girl.” It had been her nickname. He hadn’t called her that since. It felt wrong thinking about it. It had felt wrong saying it now.
He oscillated between thinking he was her friend, thinking he was in love with her and, when his friendship with her was making his friends tease him about when the happy announcement would be made, saying he just wanted to sleep with her. Which was true, except for the ‘just,’ and the fact that he felt ashamed just thinking it when they hadn’t so much as kissed. But, sometimes, he couldn’t help it. Like now.
“Oh, look,” Gloria said, pointing through the trees, though Winston was too busy looking at her delicate finger and the single white gold ring upon it to notice what she was pointing at. Before he had a chance to speak, she was walking through the knee-high grass and wild flowers, through the tress. He followed, realising that the trees were growing closer together and for a while, he lost sight of her. He had just passed a huge tree, barely paying attention to it, when he felt her hand grab him, pulling him towards the tree. She must have been standing there, waiting for him to pass.
“Didn’t you notice it? It’s so beautiful.”
“Why are we whispering?”
She shrugged. “There’s something sacred about this tree. Think how long it’s been here, how much it’s seen. How many decomposing creatures and plants fed its growth.”
He found Gloria“when she got like this“a bit strange, but he didn’t really care.
It was a beautiful tree, too thick for two people to encircle with their arms, with bulbous roots that broke from the soil before diving into it again. The two branches split away from each other, the brown wood dappled with soft green moss.
She placed a hand on it, beginning to stroke the rough bark. “So beautiful,” she murmured.
“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said, without thinking. She didn’t look at him for a moment, but when she did, she was smiling.
“That’s very sweet of you to say.”
She was still looking at him. He wasn’t sure what to do but found he was moving closer to her without really thinking, and then he was kissing her.
She seemed suddenly rigid, but then softened and pressed her lips against his slightly, before moving away, smiling enigmatically. He leant forward to kiss her again, this time more violently, with one hand pushing her arm to the tree and his body pressing against her warmth“
“Winston, no“” she said, sounding upset, but Winston just liked the taste of her lips and carried on, despite her struggling, until she pushed her hand against his chest, saying firmly, “Please, no.”
He felt a sudden wave of disgust and stepped back. He was breathing heavily, as was she, but there were tears in Gloria’s eyes.
“Gloria, I’m sorry“”
“Why?” she said, sounding angry. She rarely sounded angry, and it made Winston feel more ashamed. “Why can’t we just be slow and gentle instead of“” She was sobbing now, but was interrupted by a crashing noise and a giggle. Through the dense bushes, to their right, emerged Gloria’s cousin, Florence Parkinson, falling on to the thick grass and dragging a man whom Winston did not recognise but knew was certainly not Florence’s husband down with her, kissing him furiously.
Winston stared at them in shock before suddenly glancing at Gloria, who was not only crying but blushing pink. She began to run, her footsteps causing Florence to open her eyes and see Winston staring at her. She emitted a high-pitched squeak before standing up, pulling her skirt down and drawing her wand, pressing it to Winston’s throat.
“If you tell a soul about this, I’ll kill you, understand?”
“Florence““” the man began in a voice Winston vaguely recognised, but she cut him off with a single glare.
Winston gulped. He had always found Florence a rather silly woman, but suddenly he didn’t find her silly at all, and believed every word she said.
“And tell that cousin of mine that if she breathes a word, I’ll kill her too.”
Winston nodded furiously and Florence moved her wand, glaring down at him. He’d never realised how tall she was.
“Get away, before I decide to force you to make the Unbreakable Vow.”
Winston didn’t need telling twice He ran, the undergrowth crunching beneath his feet. He could see where the grass had been squashed because of Gloria’s steps and tried to follow them, though he was also desperate to get away from Florence and whoever that man had been.
But Winston also couldn’t get the image of Florence’s lips on the man’s mouth, on his neck, and the man’s hand hiking up her skirt and pressing against her thighs out of his head. Did he want to do that to Gloria?
Yes.
Did she want to do that to him?
No. Or maybe she did. She’d been upset, but maybe it was just how fast he’d taken it. He did want her, though. She should’ve wanted him; they’d been friends long enough, he thought angrily. He had felt guilty, but he’d said sorry. What more could he do?
He was so lost in thought that he lost her footprints. He shouted her name, but got no reply other than the flapping of wings against leaves as birds abandoned their trees, scared by the noise. Then he heard a sudden crack, followed by another. Gloria couldn’t Apparate, so he wondered who it had been. He walked towards where he thought he’d heard the noise and found a small clearing. He could smell cigarette smoke, which made him want one. Gloria didn’t like him smoking, so he hadn’t, but she wasn’t here anymore. He took his cigarettes from his pocket, put one in his mouth and then tried to light it, but suddenly a breeze blew through the clearing, putting it out. He swore, and then cupped his hand round the cigarette, leaning over so it wouldn’t go out. He lit it and then noticed the sunlight catch something on the forest floor.
He frowned, knelt and recognised Gloria’s ring. He put it in his pocket next to his cigarette packet, knowing that he would see her later. He hoped she wouldn’t still be upset. After all, he had stopped when she told him to.
He continued walking until he could see the blue sky through the trees and glimpsed the imposing Malfoy Manor. When he emerged, he was at the bottom of the hill he and Gloria had been walking on. He looked up to the hill’s brow, and saw Gloria sitting on a blanket, talking to her brother and his girlfriend Helen.
Instead of going to her, he walked towards the formal gardens. He’d talk to her later, when she was alone.
“Gloria, are you all right?” Hector said, sitting up. He had been sitting in the shadow of the forest with Helen Clearwater. He had just proposed, albeit awkwardly and continually telling her that she did not deserve him, but that thought was forgotten when he saw the frown on Gloria’s face.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired; I’ll lie down for a bit.”
“All right,” Hector said, still frowning at her, worried.
Helen rolled her eyes before grabbing his arm, beaming up at her future sister-in-law and saying, “We’re engaged!”
“Oh,” Gloria said. “That’s nice. Congratulations.”
Helen stood up, pulling Hector up with her. “Let’s go and tell our parents. Come on.”
“Yes,” Hector said, still glancing at Gloria with concern.
“Hector, I’m fine,” Gloria said, an unusual steel in her voice. “Fine,” she added, though she frowned.
“All right,” Hector replied uneasily. “See you later,” he added, before being dragged down the hill by his fiancée.
When they reached the bottom of the hill and the formal gardens there, he glanced back up at his sister. She was sipping a glass of wine. She was fine, he reassured himself, before bracing himself for the shocked stares he was expecting from Helen’s parents. Still, at least he wasn’t a Mudblood, so they’d come round. Eventually.
People were gossiping about the newly announced marriage of Hector Greengrass and Helen Clearwater. Daphne Greengrass, Hector’s mother, was particularly pleased, loudly extolling her son’s virtues and wondering where her daughter was. Florence Parkinson tapped Daphne’s arm, and pointed to the hill where they could just make out the picnic blanket and the outline of a sleeping Gloria Greengrass.
“I’ll go and wake her,” Florence said, leaving before Daphne could reply, forcing Daphne to shout her thanks as Florence began to walk up the hill.
Daphne turned to William Clearwater, who looked less than pleased about the announcement, and smiled up at him broadly. She began to say how wonderful the marriage was when she was interrupted by a sharp scream.
Tooth and Claw by welshdevondragon
Story Notes:
Thank you to my betas Minna and Soraya- you're both incredibly helpful. Also if anyone is wondering- this story is compatible with my longer chaptered stories Thin Red Lines and the sequel A Darkling Plain.
Chapter Endnotes: Please review :)