slytherin temptress

Arran wanted to explain everything. About the complicated situation his family was put in - how his father had made the decision to start building stronger relationships with other, newer Pureblood families through him and also tying them to the old by marrying Ayanna off to Regulus. He wanted to explain how it was for the best, but he knew better than that. It would all only sound like excuses, like he was pitying her. 

And he loved her too much to pity her. 

He watched the mirror slide back to his side of the table, and he had to fight the sudden urge to throw it across the room, to watch it shatter into pieces. He didn’t want the other half, he wanted to tell her. What couple? Emma was nothing about a name to him, and Vanity meant even less. 

“I didn’t think this was going to happen so soon. If I knew, I would’ve told you earlier.” Arran tried, as if that was going to help the situation. A part of him had hoped that Cassandra would be as understanding as he was when his father first told him, but it was selfish of him to want that. Not when they’d already shared so much together, when she was one of the few people he’d really poured his heart out to. A guiltier part of him, though, wanted her to scream at him and tell him that he was making a mistake - that he was an idiot for letting his family dictate his life. But wasn’t this how it all worked? How it’d been working for years? Tradition, his father had told him, is not meant to be broken. 

“Cassie - ” With a hesitant mutter of her name, Arran reached over the table, holding a hand out to silently ask for hers. (He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t give it to him.) “It’s not like i asked for this, but we both knew it was going to come sooner or later, didn’t we? There was no guarantee that it was going to be us for the rest of our lives and…” He would be lying if he said he never thought about it. Spending the rest of his life with Cassandra. How easy it would be to love his wife and how different it would feel from being with his own family. 

And he had wanted that, but it didn’t matter what he wanted. It wouldn’t have made a difference even if he told his father. 

“What do you want me to do? Apologize? Because I’m sorry. I am.” 

Cassandra could almost physically feel the walls building up around her, her fortress of defense forming to close her off from the one she used to call her love. She couldn’t look weak at a time like this, she told herself, no tears, no frowns, no e m o t i o n s. She didn’t want pity, she didn’t want consolation, she didn’t want anything from Arran unless they were getting back together.

It was a strange feeling.

She should’ve just gotten up and left the second he had told her the news, find her a good, quiet place that she could weep alone, but she almost felt like she were glued to the seat. Cass didn’t want to leave anyway, knowing that this would probably be the last time that they spoke, looked each other in the eyes. After this, it’ll be awkward interactions and sneak-glances while the other wasn’t looking--and she didn’t want it to be like that.

“Well, thank you for that; it’s comforting to see that you at least still take me into considerations before making decisions.” Her tone was as frigid as her stiffened body, words dripping in hurt. She wanted to be able to understand, to tell him that it was okay and she knew he had no choice, but if she were being honest--she was too selfish. She didn’t think for others, merely herself and the fact that it hurt her wiped out any consideration for his position in this dilemma. She wanted to yell at him, tell him that he was being stupid, that he should’ve fought for her but that Rosier pride came in the way. 

You don’t need him, Cass, a dark, self-assured voice tried to tell her, you could get anyone you wanted with so much as a glance in their direction. Why were you getting caught up on one guy? She considered the thought for a moment, knowing that it were true and she mentally kicked herself for growing attached to Arran when this were the case. But just as she straightened her posture and flipped a stray brunette lock away from her face, a softer voice in Cass’ head spoke out and answered the darker voice’s question. Because you love him. 

Emerald eyes watched as his hand extended out toward her, the same hand used to caress her skin was now open in apology, probably the last contact it’d make should she take it in her own. And she almost did, just because she missed the way it felt against hers and she was dying for some contact with the boy who had claimed her heart. A pale hand extended outward, fingers just inches away from his hand, inches away from instant comfort. His words made her pull it back though, almost in shock. How could he say he’d known this was going to happen? Had she? “Oh,” she said, “I hadn’t realized your love had an expiration date. Excuse me if my reaction doesn’t suit your fancy since mine doesn’t.” She knew he was trying to let her down easy, soften the blow, but she was too angry, too hurt to accept that right now. Cass knew she’d probably end up apologizing in a few days for her harsh words, but right now she was too proud to be anything other than cold.

She wanted to claw her own eyes out once she felt the sting of tears before her next words, her long fingers clenching into a fist to keep from doing so.

the modern houses of hogwarts: s l y t h e r i n

Harry Potter Aesthetic: Dark Slytherin

Despite his difficult situation, something tugged at the corner of Arran’s lips at Cassandra’s description of the gift. “For you, too, huh? Sure I should be opening it in the middle of the Common Room?” Instantly, he wished he could take the words back. No more joking around, no more laughing, and no more making any suggestions that they were going to leave this room as a couple.

Quietly, he took the present in his hands, and began to unwrap it, one edge at a time. Underneath the black paper, he found a mirror sitting there, and though he was confused for a brief moment, he quickly realized what it really was. “Cass…” Arran hesitated, his thumb idly running over the smooth surface of the two-way mirror. How they could’ve used this over the break, because he’d missed her more than words could express, and he would’ve given anything to be able to see her face whenever he wanted. “I can’t accept this.” Because I won’t need it. We won’t need it. “It’s too much, and I’m…” Why couldn’t he get the words out? He was a man of practicality, wasn’t he?

Just as carefully as he’d unwrapped the gift, he slowly let the mirror down onto the table in front of him, pushing it towards her. “You really shouldn’t have.” He stalled again, not meeting Cassandra’s eyes. Clearing his throat, he tugged at his sleeves and pulled them down, as if that would help him feel better. (Though perhaps it did, a little bit. A superficial armor of sorts).

“I’m going to be married to Emma Vanity by…next year, at the latest. Seems like the Vanitys and my parents have gotten close these past few months and it’ll be good for all of us. It makes sense.” Arran managed, barely keeping himself from squirming in his seat from discomfort. “You know how it is.”

She should’ve known. She should’ve known something was up the minute he stepped through that entrance and barely acknowledged her, she should’ve known that the forced smiles and heavy tension between them was present for a reason. She should’ve  k n o w n. 

Merlin, did she feel terrible about herself. It was things like this, precisely this reason that Cass rarely let people in, why she preferred to stick to a handpicked group of friends, and exactly why she chose to pretend as though she were heartless. It was much easier to pretend as though she were the just selflish, promiscuous witch she can be rather than putting her heart out there, no armor, no protection and having it returned in a thousand pieces held together by spello-tape. At least when she pretended, it was far less of a mess to clean-up and it got her what she wanted without getting in the way of her greatness.

“I know how it is.” Cassandra repeated idly, her voice almost robotic. It wasn’t just the idea that he was betrothed to someone else that bothered her, though of course, she couldn’t stand the thought. The mere fact that he barely seemed bothered by the idea--it was just another family obligation he had to do. His tone was casual, a shrug off his shoulders as he just went along with it. As though it didn’t affect him one bit that he would be losing her, all the “I love you’s” and the kisses, all those nights in the observatory they had spent telling each other everything about themselves and whispers of cute little nothings thrown away like it meant absolutely nothing. 

Perhaps what had bothered her the most though, was that she knew he was giving up, he wasn’t even planning on fighting for her, not thinking convince his parents that a marriage to her would not only mean the world to him, but would be more beneficial than one to the Vanitys. Emma Vanity, even Cassandra's voice inside her head spat the name with disgust. She wasn’t even of importance in the Wizarding World, from a family of new money rather than of one that’s been revered for generations. With a marriage to Cassandra, he would not only have a connection to the Rosiers, a much more revered family than the Vanity lot, but he would have a connection to the Blacks and Malfoys, and even the Lestranges. Was his family mad or just insipid?