Pandora's Box: Chapter Two
so, ladies and.... erm.... gents? we find ourselves once more caught up in my trade fic. i've just finished Chapter Two of Pandora's Box and offer it for your consideration. this one isn't quite as funny as Chapter One was, but they can't all be funny. Dora's been having some seriously deep thoughts about what she's doing and we find out here why she's put herself up for sale like she did.
Title: Pandora's Box
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: adult, mature. no one under 18. not even with a parent. no smut for you kiddies.
Warnings: sex, language, possible violence at some point. whatever i really feel like using, honestly
Disclaimer: none of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction belong to me. Pandora belongs to the lovely and talented Ginevra. the rest of the recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling. they're not much, much as i'd like them to be. i make no money from this. the only payment coming my way is the joyous comments that are left to my journal. please don't hurt me.
Pandora's Box - The Index
so... um, what did you think? any good? should i keep going or just stop now?
Chapter Two:Owl Post
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Signorina Pandora!" the childish voice flooded through the windows long before the owner appeared on the lane. Dora glanced out the large window, opened to allow the cool sea breeze into the room, to see a dark head hurrying toward the building. She returned her attention to the room full of faces watching her and offered a smile.
"Continue studying those passages, children. I'll be right back," she told them, waiting long enough for them to drop their heads back to the books they held before she moved for the door. Outside, the weather was mild, the sun warm upon her face. She moved away from the small school so that she could meet her visitor out of hearing range of her children. The running figure was soon close enough that she could see who it was.
Marco Giancarlo was their neighbor's son, a precocious six-year old who had made himself the caretaker of the family pets. He spent his days herding goats, feeding the chickens and pigs and caring for the three dogs and four cats that lived in her house. He was a sweet little boy who had a very large crush on her. "Marco, what are you doing here? You know I don't like being disturbed while I'm working."
"I know. But this letter. It just came..." he gasped, waving a wrinkled piece of parchment in her face. She reached for it and found herself forced to grab his wrist with one hand to hold him still so she could take the parchment out of his grasp.
"It couldn't wait until I got home? You know I won't be much longer. Class will let out in an hour or so," she chided him gently. She held the parchment but didn't look at it, her gaze instead focused on his face. There was reproach in her eyes. The boy frowned for a moment, looking at the ground as he struggled to find the right words. Then his eyes came up and he pinned her with a stare.
"Your mama... She told me to come. She said it was important and that you would want to know right away," he told her, his tone petulant. He struck a pose, one hip cocked out while he settled his tiny fits on his waist. "She said it was something to do with a husband."
Dora froze at his words, her fingers tightening convulsively around the thick parchment she held. She had a letter so soon? She'd only placed the ad the previous week. The agency had been quick to tell her that it could take months to find a possible match. A faint flutter of nervousness rolled through her. Marco seemed to be oblivious to her turmoil. Instead, he continued to speak. "Why do you need a husband, signorina? You have me. I can take care of you."
"My family has no money, Marco," she began.
"Then I won't allow you to pay me wages. Keep them. I'll work for free."
She smiled at him, reaching out with her free hand to ruffle his hair. He pulled a face, his hands shooting up to smooth his dark brown locks back into place. "That's very sweet of you, Marco. But you deserve to be paid for all the hard work you do. I couldn't deprive you of your wages."
"I want to take care of you, signorina," he said petulantly. She smiled again.
"And I appreciate that. I couldn't ask for a better friend than you, Marco. But I have to do this," she said softly, hoping to cushion the blow with her gentle tone. She saw his lower lip quiver. "I would love to have you take care of me, Marco. But I need you to look after Mama and Papa for me. They'll be lonely without me."
"They have your brothers and sisters. They don't need me to keep them company," he shook his head. She knelt down so that she could look him in the eye. Her free hand reached out to lift his chin. She could see the sorrow and pain in his eyes.
"They may have my brothers and sisters, but you're as much a part of the family as they are. And it would be a personal favor to me if you would watch over Mama and Papa after I'm gone," she said, her voice soft and coaxing. His lower lip quavered ever so slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly to prevent the tears from falling. Dora felt her heart breaking for him. Crushes were so hard for one so young.
"You won't forget me?" he asked, his voice small. Dora gave him a gentle smile and hugged him close.
"Of course I won't forget you, Marco. How can I forget my favorite pupil and my closest friend?" she told him, her smile broadening into a conspiratorial grin. While she was years older than he was, the two of them had had their own share of secret adventures.
"Will you come back to see me?" he asked, still sounding very much as young as his six years. At this, she laughed and hugged him close.
"We don't even know if I'll be leaving. But if I do, you can be sure I'll come back to visit you. And Mama and Papa. I'm sure my husband will be happy to come and visit, too," she assured him. Then she turned him back toward the direction he'd come from and patted his backside. "Now. Off with you. Isn't Fluff due to deliver her litter of kittens soon?"
"I almost forgot!" he blurted out, his mind drawn away from her possible husband and back to the small female cat in her house that was expecting her first litter. Dora's Papa had already promised one of the babies to Marco when it was old enough to leave Fluff's side. He hurried up the lane, his little legs moving fast. "She was acting very strange this morning. I think today is the day!"
Dora stood, waving after him until his dark head had disappeared behind the hill that separated her small school from the rest of the village. When he was gone, she turned back to the small building. The door stood open and she could see the heads of her class still bent in study. Her fingers flexed, crinkling the parchment she held. Glancing down, she could see a fine script moving across the rich surface. There was even a wax seal upon the missive. Sighing, she slid her fingers under the seal and broke it. No time like the present.
My dear Miss Vitale,
I came across your advertisement in a magazine and found myself entranced immediately by it. I believe you to be exactly the woman I am looking for. I have sent a letter to a solicitor near your village who works closely with my own to take care of arranging all the details. The price listed in your profile is, I believe, a fair sum. I have already contacted my bank and they are in the process of transferring the money to an account that will be set up in your name. Once this is finished, the money is yours to do with as you please.
Once I have put my affairs in order, I plan on joining you so that we may discuss the contract in greater detail. I expect I will be there in a few short days. I suggest that you take the time available to put your own affairs into order. I look forward to meeting you in person.
Yours,
L. Malfoy
Dora frowned. There was no picture enclosed. Nothing to tell her about the man she'd be marrying. Not even his first name. She sighed.... Malfoy sounded oddly familiar, though she couldn't for the life of her place where she'd heard it before. She studied the paper and the writing once more.
The parchment was of the finest quality, the wax seal on the back done in shades of mingled green and silver so that there was a marbling effect to it. Pressed into the wax was a gothic type 'M', centered between a pair of pillars that had... She squinted at the image and frowned. Snakes twined around them? She thought the choice odd, but dismissed it as an idiosyncrasy of the upper class.
The writing was in sharp, neat script. It was very precise and very authoritative. The ink that he'd used was also of a quality that one didn't see often. It was painfully clear that this man had money. More than he knew what to do with. She'd listed an almost ridiculously high bride price, expecting to have to bargain for something close to what she wanted. He'd never even quibbled about it, had simply said he'd pay it. That money would keep her parents and her siblings in comfort for some time to come. She would take whatever came to make sure that happened. Even if that meant that her future husband was repulsive.
L. Malfoy was obviously a man used to getting what he wanted. There was nothing personal in the note he'd sent, but she could see from the short missive that he expected her to follow his instructions without comment or complaint. Dora wondered briefly at the kind of life the man would give her. She'd have lost herself in her thoughts if it hadn't have been for the sound of a small argument breaking out behind her. Several crackles and pops accompanied a burst of brilliant colors.
"Tony! Carlo!" she spat as she hurried back to the building. "How many times do I have to tell you that you shouldn't use your magic like this?"
~*~*~*~*~
"The letter, Dora. Tell us about the letter," Papa insisted while Dora finished laying out the evening meal. A bowl heaped high with salad sat at his elbow, while another bowl filled with steaming pasta was settled in the center of the table. Two smaller bowls, each holding sauces for the pasta, were settled on either side. A thick loaf of bread rested on a platter, a knife beside it for those who wanted to cut off a slice. The smell of garlic hung in the air, rich and pungent, along with the faintly sweet scent of white lilies and jasmine.
Mama sat next to him, watching her as she began dishing some of the pasta and salad onto her younger siblings plates. Dora flashed a grin at her father, knowing his impatience would soon be echoed by her brothers and sisters. Only her mother would resist the urge to know what was going on. Then again, her mother had never liked the idea of her offering herself for marriage like this. Mama had met the announcement with a stiff frown and a stare that Dora knew could melt glass.
"You got a letter?" her youngest brother asked. Dante was seven and the quiet one, full of big ideas and even bigger mischief. More than once, Dora had been forced to think quick on her feet to keep him from getting into trouble. He was curious now, his tone indicating he wouldn't let the subject drop until she explained it all to him. Her other brothers and sisters were looking at her, each face a mirror image of Dante's.
"I'll tell you all about it in a little while. First let me dish up dinner. Before it gets cold," she admonished gently. Dante fell silent, his gaze flicking toward their parents. Dora flashed him a smile. She then settled a plate before Andreina, her youngest sister. Andreina had just turned eight and would someday be a beauty. She and Dante were almost always found together, plotting something devious.
Dora took several moments to fill plates and settle them before her brothers and sisters. As she did so, she studied each of her siblings. Besides Dante and Andreina, there was Gabriella. She was ten, getting ready to turn eleven. And she was supposed to be going to Beauxbaton. The letter hadn't come yet, but Dora knew it was merely a matter of time. Not at the table were Pietro and Luca. Luca was the next oldest behind her. He was seventeen and was nearing his last year of schooling. Pietro was fourteen and still had some time to go.
She sighed. Those small, curious faces that were watching her as she dished up their plates for them were the reason she was doing this. For her brothers and sisters. For her parents. She didn't know how to make them understand this, though. It had been simpler when she'd been younger, when she hadn't understood that her parents had been left almost penniless after some bad financial advice. She hadn't known, when she'd gotten her letter to Beauxbaton, that they'd been hard up for cash. She hadn't known that they'd borrowed money from her aunts and uncles to put Luca through school.
When Pietro's letter had come..... It wasn't until she'd stumbled across a conversation between her parents that she'd realized just how bad things were for them. She'd made a decision that day. She'd decided that she'd do whatever it took to ensure her brothers and sisters had the same opportunities she'd had, that Mama and Papa had given her. She'd tried any number of things to make extra cash. She'd even gone to work in some of the shops in one of the bigger magical cities. It hadn't been enough. Nothing had seemed to be enough. Until she'd heard about the marriage business. That's when she'd realized that becoming a stranger's bride could make her family the money it needed to continue.
"Dora?" her mother's voice cut into her musing. She looked up and smiled, then realized that everyone had been served except herself. She forked out some pasta and settled it on an empty plate, then ladled red sauce over the noodles. A small dish of salad went with it. Then she took her seat. Papa folded his hands and they all whispered a few thankful words before they started their meal. Dora had just forked salad into her mouth when her mother looked at her. "What about this letter?"
All eyes turned to her and Dora did her best not to slow down her jaws. She supposed the sooner she got this over with, the sooner they'd all leave her alone. Swallowing the bite of salad, she reached for her glass and took a drink of chilled water to wash it down with. "Its a reply to my advertisement."
"What advertisement?" Gabriella asked, her sweet voice reminding Dora of the gentle nature her sister had been gifted with. It was unlike her own nature, one that was more adventurous and forward thinking than her parents were comfortable with. Even her teachers at school had felt the same way. Between that nature and her age, she knew it made her the perfect choice to do what had to be done for her family, to ensure that they could continue on.
"I've placed an advertisement in a magazine looking for a husband," she told her siblings. All of their eyes had already been upon her. Now, she had their complete attention. Dante set down his fork with a soft clatter.
"A husband? Why? Who would want to marry you?" he demanded in a brotherly tone that made Dora smile.
"Well, not everyone shares your opinion that I'm a horrible, ugly sister. There are men out there who would find me attractive. Besides, it doesn't matter why he wants to marry me. Only that he will do so. And pay."
"Dora, this isn't the way," Papa said from his end of the table. She turned to look at him, a soft smile tilting her lips up. "We'll manage. We always have. You shouldn't have to sell yourself to..."
"Papa," she said quietly, her eyes moving to rest on each of her siblings in turn. "There isn't any other way. And this is my decision. Its my life and I'll do with it what I want. The money will go into an account for you and Mama to use. For their education."
"Your father's right, Dora. We'll find another way to come up with tuition and expenses," Mama added. Dora looked at her and shook her head.
"What do you plan on doing? Ask Uncle Vittorio for more money? Uncle Luigi? There isn't any money to be had. This is the fastest way to make enough to keep you comfortable for some time to come," Dora snapped at them before collecting herself and dropping her tone back to one that was more neutral. "I want to do this, Mama. You and Papa have done so much for me. Its my turn to repay your generosity."
"Dora, it was our job as your parents to do those things," Papa said gently.
"Perhaps. But you loved me like no other parents could. You did more than you needed to. Its time for me to return the favor."
"Dora," her mother's voice was soft with her tears. She turned to look at the woman and tried to offer a reassuring smile.
"My mind is made up, Mama. I'm going to do this," her voice held a note of finality that brought a frown to her mother's face. Isabella Vitale finally sighed, her head tipping once in what Dora took to be a nod. Whether she liked it or not, her mother was going to accept her decision. Dora managed to smile at her. "Don't worry, Mama. You'll see. I'll be fine."
~*~*~*~*~
Dora stared at the room full of faces and frowned. All of them were looking up at her eagerly. It was Friday afternoon and she knew this was the last time she'd be teaching them anything, the last time she'd be seeing them for... She didn't know how long. The day had been filled with all kinds of surprises. Tony and Carlo had behaved themselves the entire day, as if they'd known that she would no longer be there to referee their fights. Young Antonia had brought her a bouquet of wild flowers and Michele had brought her a ripe apple. It was going to be so hard to leave them all behind.
Her eyes roved over the entire group, her mind going over all that she had accomplished here in the past few years. The children had learned so much. She hated to leave that behind. She knew her announcement would hurt them. Just as it had hurt Marco. He hadn't spoken to her since he'd delivered the letter to her the other day. She'd seen him from her window, moving across the lawn after a dog. He hadn't looked up at her, hadn't even come into the house. Would the rest of the children take her leaving as a betrayal the way Marco had? Would any of them ever forgive her?
"Signorina Pandora, why do you look so sad?" one of the children asked her. "Is something the matter?"
A chorus of voices took up the question. She tried to smile at them, but her face felt stiff. She'd spent the last few days trying to prepare herself for what was to come. Her clothes were already packed, any possessions she really wanted to take stored in a trunk that had been shrunken down. That had been the easy part. No, it was the mental preparations that were hardest, that were still draining her energy. She wouldn't admit it, but she was nervous about what was to come.
She couldn't push the fear out of her mind that she was in far over her head. The name Malfoy still rang bells in her head, but she couldn't recall from where. Or why. Still, she knew that the man who had picked her was wealthy. She'd been in contact with the bank and the promised sums of money had already been transferred into her account. She'd been shocked that it had all come at once. What had been even more shocking was that there had been more than her original price. None of it made any sense to her.
There should have been a period of discussion between the two of them. They should have spent time hashing out the finer points of the contract. He should have at least haggled over the bride price she'd set. But there'd been nothing of the sort. He'd seen the ad and agreed to the price without apparently even batting an eyelash. Exactly how much money did her.... She stopped and frowned again. Should she call him her fiancé? Or was he something else?
"Signorina?" a boy's voice pulled her out of her musing again. Every one of the children was giving her a curiously puzzled look. She moved out from behind her desk and settled against the front edge. The sharp corner dug into her hips, but she welcomed the slight discomfort. It would help keep her head clear so that she could explain this to the children properly. "Why do you look so sad?"
"Do you all remember when Aurelio left us at the end of the school term last year?" she asked them. They all nodded their heads solemnly. "Do you remember why?"
"Because his mama got married to a man from the city and they had to move," Carlo answered her question.
"Exactly," Dora replied. "We were all very sad, weren't we?" The children nodded their heads. The room fell silent for a moment and she watched as the comprehension dawned on all of them. It crept over their faces slowly and they looked from one person to another, trying to decide who was leaving this time.
"Who's going away this time, Signorina?" Tony asked the one thing they all wanted to know. All eyes turned forward to stare at her. Dora took a deep breath. It was now or never.
"I am, my loves. I'm the one who will be leaving," she replied softly. The room was silent for a few moments longer, then the children burst into a cacophony of sound. Her first inclination was to hush them, to stop the shaft of pain that was wedging its way into her heart. But she let them express their unhappiness and displeasure. It wouldn't be fair of her to cut them off. They deserved to vent.
After several long moments of bitter words, the room fell into silence again. Several of the students wouldn't look at her and Dora felt her heart shatter. She could face anything coming her way if only she knew that her children were safe and happy. This hurt more than she'd thought it would. "What did we do wrong, Signorina?" Tony's voice was small and filled with pain.
"Oh, children. You've done nothing wrong. I swear."
"Then why are you leaving us?"
Dora took a breath and tried to compose what she was going to say to them. She owed them an explanation of some sort. "I'm getting married," she replied evenly.
"To who?"
"Why do you need to leave?"
"Why do you need to get married?"
Questions flew at her like mad, little words with wings that dove in and circled like birds. She lifted her hands and made a quieting motion. The children grew quiet again. They wouldn't understand the reasons, but she was going to tell them anyway. Sort of. "I've met a man who wants to marry me. This will be a good match. He can take care of me and I'm sure he'll make sure that my family is taken care of, too. You know I've been taking care of them, right?"
They nodded, their attention locked on her intently. No one spoke again, which was something to be pleased about. She drew a breath. "This is what happens when you become an adult. You meet someone you want to spend your life with. That's what I've done," she bit her lip at the small lie. But they didn't need to know that she was selling herself. That was something they wouldn't understand. Marco hadn't understood it.
"When will you be leaving?" Antonia asked softly.
"Soon. This is my last day as your teacher, children. Since we're so close to the weekend and the end of the day, there will be no more work to do. The rest of the afternoon is free to spend however you wish."
"Tell us about your husband," Bella chimed in.
Dora blinked at this. What was she supposed to say? She couldn't tell them she'd never met the man. So she conjured up the words in his letter to her, the way his writing took possession of the page. She thought about his name and a faint image of what she thought he might be like came to mind. "Well, let me see. He's tall and he's very handsome. He's a kind and gentle man. He loves children. He's smart and well off and he thinks I'm funny."
She hated to lie to them. But the look on their faces as she finished her little speech told her she'd done the right thing. The boys were dreaming of being the man she spoke of while the girls were all doe-eyed about the ideal man Dora had described. She hoped that they never had to learn the truth. If they did, they'd never forgive her for lying to them.
"Will you come back to see us?"
"Of course I will, sweetheart," she replied easily. "There's no way anyone could keep me from coming back to see all of you. You're my children and I love you all."
"Will we get to meet your husband?"
Dora smiled and nodded. "I suspect that one day you will. If you're good and do as your parents tell you."
A collective groan rose up from the group. "Who will come teach us when you're gone, Signorina Pandora?"
"That, I don't know. I'm sure someone from the village will come and take up where I've left off," Dora told them. She wasn't sure about that at all. The children's parents hadn't been very open to the idea of her teaching them magic before they were actually scheduled to start. But she'd insisted they'd have a better chance of succeeding at school if they had prior knowledge to what they were going to be facing. She hoped that someone would continue her work. Smiling, she brought their attention back to her. "So, children. What do you want to do this afternoon?"
~*~
"This came for you earlier," Isabella offered Dora a folded piece of parchment. She looked at it for a moment before slipping her finger under the wax seal to open it. The same thick vellum-style parchment opened to the same precise, authoritative script met her eyes.
Miss Vitale,
I have concluded all the business that I needed to tend to. This leaves me free to come and collect you. I will be arriving tomorrow at noon. Please be ready to go, as we shall leaving promptly at 12:30.
I hope you are as excited by the conclusion of our contract as I am.
Yours,
L. Malfoy
Dora closed the parchment and sighed. It felt too soon. But the whole enterprise had happened much faster than she'd thought it would. He was coming for her tomorrow. This was going to be her last day here in her parent's home. She looked up to find her mother watching her. "He's coming, isn't he?"
"He is," she nodded.
"You're afraid, bella," her mother moved over to pull her into an embrace. Dora nodded, not bothering to deny it. Her mother had always known when she was scared, even when she worked to hide her feelings from everyone. "Aren't you?"
"Of course, Mama. This is a big deal for us. For me."
"Then you should not do it."
"I have to. You and Papa can't keep hiding the truth from the younger ones. This money will send them to school. It will take care of you and Papa, too. I have to do it."
"You shouldn't give up your happiness for us. The sacrifice isn't worth it, bella," Isabella said gently. Dora shook her head.
"You and Papa have done everything you could to ensure we got our education. I have to do something to make certain you can continue to do so for the rest of the family. It isn't a sacrifice to me. So I'll do it."
"Don't let him break your heart, bella. If this man isn't the one, find a way out of the marriage and go in search of the man who is right."
"Don't worry about me, Mama. I'll be fine," Dora assured her mother, even though she wasn't sure she'd be fine at all.
~*~*~*~*~
Directly at twelve noon, there was a crisp knock at the front door. Dora felt a faint flutter of nervousness in her belly. Something told her she shouldn't waste time and so she moved forward for the door. By the time she had her hand on the knob, her mother was standing in the doorway with a faintly worried expression on her face. Dora sucked up her courage and turned the knob, pulling the door wide.
The sun was behind him and she had a hard time seeing his face. But that was only momentary. "Miss Vitale?" a cultured voice asked her. Dora nodded and stepped back, holding one arm out to the room behind her.
"Please. Come in," she remembered her manners and stepped back from the door. He stepped in and Dora felt her heart slam hard against her chest. She shut the door numbly, her eyes wide. This was the man who'd offered for her? Dear gods, he was heavenly.
Tall and well built, he was simply handsome to look upon. Long blonde hair brushed his shoulders and hung beyond. His features were very definitely aristocratic. There was a proud lift to his chin and she could see that he had lovely, mercury colored eyes. His clothing was of the finest in materials and cut and there was a silver headed cane in one hand. She watched as his eyes roved slowly over the living room, coming to rest on her parents. "You are Mr. and Mrs. Vitale?"
"I am Nicola Vitale," her father stepped forward to offer his hand.
"Lucius Malfoy," the blonde took the offered hand and shook. Dora missed the startled look that crossed her father's face at that announcement. She was too busy testing his name on her lips.
"This is my wife, Isabella," her father continued, drawing the woman to his side.
"Pleasure, Mrs. Vitale," Lucius replied easily.
"Its an honor, Signore Malfoy," her mother's voice was faint. Dora looked to her parents and finally saw the look on their faces.
"Mama? Papa?" she asked softly, confused by their reactions. They turned frowns on her. "What's wrong?"
"You can't marry this man, bella," Isabella said gently, moving over to clasp her daughter's hands in her own. "He is..... already married."
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