Harewood House | Six Feet Under - Aurelian

        Saturday, November 18, 1922  

Harewood House
10:00 PM
⛤

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The magic surged through her arms and chest, boiling and snapping as she waited for the door to open. Fists clenched and heat racing up her neck, Rosalie McCormick stood in the cold dark, her cloak drawn over her head, her eyes glancing across the grounds of Harewood to ensure she wasn't seen.

She had to calm down. Before Lev Zdravkova opened that door and she blasted him with green light. There would be no self-defense claim in this case. She'd see the inside of Azkaban's walls before morning if she gave into the dark thoughts that were swelling like a storm on the ocean.

She'd never met him, but she knew she'd know him the second she saw him. Eira's descriptions of him were thorough. All Rosie had to look for was a robotic man with reasonably pretty features and a snobby attitude.

His message had taken her by surprise. It had been a few days since her last visit with Eira, and she hadn't heard from her friend since. It was unlike her not to send a quick patronus or owl to let Rosie know she was okay and the next time they could visit, but she hadn't worried. When his patronus - a long-snouted dog of some sort - showed up at Cassian's bedroom window, she hadn't known what to think.

Until the message came clear. Eira had been caught. Hurt. She needed Rosalie.

Briefly, she had thought it might be a trap. Families like Eira's - and the Laurences - weren't above such things. Had Cassian not been out late - wherever he continued to escape to - that night, she knew he likely would have insisted she not go, but there wasn't a scenario on Merlin's green earth that Rosie could hear her friend was hurting and not run to her. A quick note, making sure to leave her wand and locket on the pillow so he'd know she was coming back - and to notify James and Julia immediately if she didn't before morning - and she'd slipped out of the house before his parents had noticed.

The doorknob turned, heavy and old, before her eyes locked on ice. Her own narrowed as they finally took in the form of the man that made her best friend's days so miserable, and had now seen to it that she'd been hurt - punished - for wanting anything that brought her a speck of joy.

"Rosie?"

Rosalie raised her eyebrow along with her chin, summoning every bit of Laurence within her. "Lady Rosalie Laurence-McCormick." So he could understand exactly who she was, and that she had no intention of cowering in his magnificent presence. Long gone was the girl that would freeze and shrink in the shadow of men like him.

That Rosie was gone, dead with the baby they'd stolen from her.

He said nothing, but nodded and opened the door wider so she could enter. He beckoned to her to follow him through the kitchen. "We have to remain discreet. She's - "

"Don't speak to me." Her words came sharp and firm as she walked alongside him, her eyes forward, flicking to the side only now and then when a portrait stared down at her. God, they all looked the same. Sharp, angular features and eyes cold and empty. It sent a chill up her back.

To his credit, Lev shut up and said nothing further, only answering with a soft sigh of his own, until they finally reached what seemed to be their sitting room. As soon as the door closed behind him, Rosie turned on him, throwing the hood of her cloak back, eyes flashing menacingly as she stepped up to him. His eyebrows lowered over his own eyes, his back straightening as he looked down at the girl who seemed ready to tear him to shreds.

"Let me explain something to you," Rosie hissed, keeping her eyes trained on him. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm not afraid of your family." Lev's lips parted to speak, but she waved her hand instantly, silencing him before he could force the words. "I don't give a shit what you want to say. Eira," she emphasized her best friend's name, because it was important he understood that she didn't defer to what his family ordered, "is everything to me. She is mine, before she will ever be yours. And if I ever, ever find out that you or your family dared to lay hands or magic on her again, I'll bring the whole world down on you."

She glared at him. "You think you're powerful. You think you're frightening. Your family is nothing without their reputation. My family is ancient. They've survived thousands of dynasties like yours. And before they bury the Zdravkova, I'll bury you with a fucking teaspoon and love every moment of it."

She never cursed. She never wielded her family name. Most days, Rosie was happy to be an anonymous face in the crowd, living her quiet life with the halfblooded boy that had rescued her from all of it. But when it came to the people she loved, she'd do everything she could to keep them safe. She'd killed her own for Cassian. She'd threaten Lev with the entire Laurence dynasty to protect Eira.

She released her silencio and took a step back. "Now, where is she?"

Lev studied the girl for a moment, a fleck of something that looked almost impressed behind light blue eyes. "Just there through her bedroom door," he answered quietly, leading her to Eira's room. He mentioned nothing about the threat, but it seemed to settle, the two sharing a brief understanding of where they stood with one another. Whether Lev took her threat seriously or not wasn't Rosie's business or care.

He could call her bluff or not.

As soon as the door opened, Rosie's eyes fell on the slight frame of her best friend, quietly sleeping, wrapped up in her blankets. Moonlight filtered in through the windows, illuminating the ivory of her skin. She looked peaceful, sweet, unharmed by the world that had terrified Rosie every moment since it had found Eira. Without a word, she shrugged her cloak to the floor and slipped out of her shoes.

Peeling the blankets back, Rosie drifted into the bed, snuggling in close to the girl who was more like her sister than friend. She brushed a blonde wave from Eira's face, causing the girl to stir slightly. When sleepy eyes met her own, Rosie's face crumpled in sorrow, tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, "It's my fault. I'm sorry."

A touch as light as feathers stirred her from sleep.

A gentle brush of fingertips against her temple, so delicate and soft she might not have felt it at all if her sleep had been worth anything resembling rest.

Liliya’s eyes opened, and it took a moment to register what was happening.

For a split second, time seemed to still. All she could do was stare at the woman in her bed who looked so achingly familiar, so warm and comfortable that the only word that properly described the feeling was home. It made little sense. Waking up to a stranger lying beside her should have made her scramble and yelp, tense with surprise and reach for her wand.

But it didn’t.

And at last, Liliya understood why.

The blank expression on her face crumpled as every bit of agony and pain she had forced down violently clawed its way up through her chest. A sob tore from her throat, breaking through the stillness of the room.

“Rosie.”

Liliya scrambled to close the small distance before she finished saying her name, wrapping her arms around her friend and clutching her tightly, desperately, as though Rosie might disappear if she loosened her grip. Her face vanished in the crook of Rosie’s neck, the scent of cherries filling her lungs as the whole world broke apart.

Like a dam breaking, it all rushed forth. Everything she had swallowed and shoved down, locked away inside a box, came pouring free in a river of tears and ragged sobs. Her shoulders shook with them, her fingers burying into the fabric of Rosie’s clothes. The whole room drowned in the surging sea that was her sorrow.

She had almost forgotten about her. About Rosie. The existence of a world beyond this house. She had plucked the memories from the forefront of her mind, compressed them into stone, and pushed them so far down that Liliya had almost forgotten. That thought felt worse than every piece of torture her family had subjected her to.

Gradually, her sobs eased. Liliya's shoulders sagged with exhaustion, but she didn’t let go. When she finally managed to speak, her voice was barely a whisper.

“Nothing is your fault, Rosie.” Her cheek remained pressed against her friend’s shoulder as she stared unfocused into the darkness. She pulled back after another moment.

Liliya’s eyes met Rosie’s.

“Please don’t blame yourself.”

She never noticed the hovering presence in the doorway.

“Rosie.”

Rosie's eyes squeezed shut when Eira wrapped her arms around her. Rosie's own reciprocated, pulling the girl flush against her. She clung to her, relishing the feel of her best friend's warmth. A hand found its way to the back of Eira's head, fingers idly brushing through golden strands to soothe the sobs that broke against her neck.

Months ago, when they'd first reconnected, Rosalie had swore to Eira that if she ever needed her, if she were ever scared or in danger, she would come running. The moment she'd known, she'd come. Eira knew that no matter what, she had at least one person in her corner at all times. One person who would fight for her. One person who would kill for her.

"I'm here," she whispered, letting her friend cry and relieve herself of whatever pain and distress that had taken hold of her. In truth, Rosalie was lost without Eira. From the moment they'd been separated, Eira having to go to Durmstrang while she remained at Hogwarts, she'd ached for her. With communication between them cut off until Benji had managed to reunite them, Rosalie had stumbled through her world. She'd had Cassian, but there was something to be said about another girl - woman - on your side who understood what you were feeling and going through.

“Nothing is your fault, Rosie. Please don’t blame yourself.”

When their eyes met again, Rosie's own expression crumbled. She did blame herself. She'd only been trying to offer her friend a good time, something that felt like hers, that freed her and let her feel like herself again in a world that kept trying to suppress her.

Lev had punished Eira for it.

That was Rosalie's fault, no matter what way one looked at it. She was at a loss for words. What if she had lost Eira forever? What if they had locked her away and kept her from Rosie, no message to tell her what had happened? What if the punishment had gone further? What if they'd killed her?

Rosie's father had tried to kill her as a consequence for her disobedience. She knew the evils men could hold for their own.

Deep oceans flicked across the room to the figure standing in the doorway, watching the two girls. Rosie's entire body stiffened as she dropped her gaze from him, staring at the room beyond her friend. "Leave us," Rosalie called to him and blinking, steadied her voice again, "Please."

She could sense his hesitation, but in a moment, Lev had gone, closing the door behind him. Darkness swallowed what little light had come from the sitting room, and Rosalie pulled back just a moment to get a better look at Eira.

"Are you okay? What did they do to you?"

The pain in Rosie’s expression made it clear that nothing Liliya could say would convince her friend otherwise. But she would never blame Rosie for what had happened—she was responsible for none of it. No matter who Liliya asked, they would all say the same.

There was no one else to blame but herself. And Liliya agreed with that.

She had decided to approach Alec. She had decided to lead him on. She had decided to keep it going.

She had decided that if consequences came, she would deal with them. And come they had. Now she had to sit with them.

Before Liliya could say a word, however, Rosie’s gaze flicked past her, and hers followed. It landed on Lev’s silhouette, framed by the sitting room’s light as he stood in the doorway, watching. Liliya froze. Had he seen her like this? Crying, shaking, clinging to Rosie like a child waking up from a nightmare? He must have. The thought made her sink further into her sheets, wishing she could disappear beneath them.

Thankfully, Rosie’s demand was enough. A moment later, Lev was gone, and darkness engulfed the room.

Liliya’s eyes returned to Rosie.

"Are you okay? What did they do to you?”

Her lips parted, but for a moment, she couldn’t speak. It felt too painful to say aloud. The words sat clumped together in her chest, heavy with the fresh memory of everything that had happened. The defeat. The shame. The hopelessness. She hated how vulnerable the whole thing made her feel. As though admitting it made her needy somehow.

She considered lying. Saying she was fine.

But she clearly wasn’t, and Rosie was looking at her with those familiar, gentle eyes, and Liliya found that she didn’t want to lie. She wanted her. The comfort she had been subconsciously longing for.

Liliya’s gaze dropped, and she swallowed thickly. After another moment, she shook her head.

“Lev took me to Nadežda,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, hoarse from crying. “After I came home from Arundel. She…ripped through my brain, my memories. With Legilimency.” Liliya paused, her eyes flicking back to Rosie. “It’s mental torture. Their way of punishment. It…knocked me out for a while.”

“Lev took me to Nadežda."

Rosalie braced herself, feeling her arms tightening around Eira as she held her breath. She didn't want to assume anything, or try to fill in the blanks before her friend explained. Rosie knew her mind could create the worst kind of scenario and she didn't need those images of Eira in her head -

“After I came home from Arundel. She…ripped through my brain, my memories. With Legilimency.”

Wha-what? She didn't understand. Rosie had never heard of such a thing. She knew Legilimency of course, and what it was meant for, but...what did Eira mean she ripped through her brain? "I don't know -"

“It’s mental torture. Their way of punishment. It…knocked me out for a while.”

Rosie was quiet a moment, letting her expression fall as she watched Eira's. She wanted to understand. Wanted to comprehend the magnitude of what had happened to her sweet friend. What it had felt like, what it had looked like, so she could...do what? Yell at Lev some more? In truth, what could Rosalie do, other than snatch Eira and take her back home with her.

And they both knew even with all of this, Eira never would.

"Did it steal your memories?" she asked softly, "Or just scramble them? I...I don't really understand." Did it matter at the end of the day? Rosie thought it did. Details mattered. To the person they happened to. She tried to force a smile, but more tears came. "I'm here now," she said softly. "I'll stay as long as I can, okay?"

She dropped a kiss on Eira's forehead, tucking her friend back into her shoulder. They could just lay here as long as they both needed.

"Did it steal your memories? Or just scramble them? I...I don't really understand.”

Liliya shook her head slightly, but for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. How was she supposed to explain it? She barely understood it herself—her mind, the mess it had become. How could she put into words the ruthlessness of Nadežda’s magic, the agony of having her mind pried open and rummaged through like some box of trinkets? Uncaring for what broke and what didn’t. How could she explain how utterly scattered it still left her?

The longer she searched for an answer, the more elusive it became.

Would anyone ever understand? It felt like one of those things a person could never quite grasp unless they had experienced it themselves, lived with it, learned to endure it. Yes. The realisation seeped into her bones then, cold as ice. There were people who understood. They lived right here in this house with her. One of them was only one room away.

The thought that she might share a fate with Lev made her nauseous. Hadn’t he been beaten within an inch of his life himself? What else had he endured? The others? Had Danika been put through the same? Drago? Wiosna? Serik? Little Natalya?

Liliya’s stomach twisted. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to consider any of it. Most of all, she didn’t want to examine the new reality opening up before her. The despair crept back in, and she shook her head again.

“No,” she murmured, “I don’t know. It’s…” She trailed off, shoulders lifting in a helpless shrug. Tears rose to her eyes, and she drew an unsteady breath, slowly releasing it through her mouth. “I’m not sure, Rosie. I don’t know anything anymore.”

Her throat tightened around the words. She had no answers, no way to explain, no idea what to think or say or do. Had something been taken? How would she ever know? Was it simply buried beneath confusion and pain? Or forever lost? All she knew was that she had never felt so alone before. And all she really wanted was to feel safe for a little while, buried in Rosie’s arms for as long as she would stay.

Rosie’s lips pressed softly against her forehead, and Liliya couldn’t help the sob that rose in her throat.

"I'm here now. I'll stay as long as I can, okay?”

Liliya tightened her arms around Rosie and nodded against her shoulder, already dreading the moment she’d have to let go.