Ana.01 - Blog Posts

anastasiadolohov​:

Anastasia bristled at the correction from Narcissa, fighting to keep a look of distaste from her face. She wanted to get on with the Malfoys, she really did - after all, it would be a very long life if her marital family all detested her. What a poor way to live that would be - but Anastasia doubted that Narcissa had ever dealt with the struggle of learning a second language and trying to speak it as fluently as her first. She was certain that the woman knew additional languages, most pure-blooded women did, but there was a difference between learning French to use perhaps twice a year and trying to learn English colloquialisms just from picking them up in conversation. With difficulty, Anastasia nodded. “Thank you for the correction, ma’am,” she said, though a sinking feeling had settled in her gut. “I will warn him. Perhaps he needs to come home to his mama to fight for the title.”

Fifty or seventy of the birds around the estate. At least now she knew - and she would come prepared next time, both mentally and physically to deal with them. “A wedding gift, you said? Were they gifted by Lucius, or perhaps just a family friend?” Anastasia wondered if it had been a gift from her godparents, from what she understood of the Lestrange family they did not seem like the sort who were particularly fond of any sort of pet. “Bears are easily dealt with, they are not as scary as they may seem initially. Boars are the real trouble - they are deceptively fast.”

Hovering as Narcissa turned heel, Anastasia didn’t know whether it was more awkward to not follow and have been invited, or to follow and have Narcissa query why she was following her. As it turned out, she didn’t have to wait long and she hurried to follow. “My apologies. I haven’t been down to this side of the manor yet. Are these your parlours?”

❀

The title of ma’am never had the intended result once it hit Narcissa’s ears. It was what you called a woman over forty. Despite being a woman over forty herself, a fact she would never utter out loud, aging wasn’t something she wished to be reminded of. Ma’am. It would have been more apt to refer to old maids like Audrey Selwyn or hags, like her sister, as such.

Anastasia, a girl who had done nothing to surprise in her short stay at the Manor, managed to do so twice in quick succession. “Is that a talent you believe you possess? Getting Draco to return home? I would love to see it in action, Anastasia.” Lucius wouldn’t be able to believe it if the girl pulled it off and it would certainly help them both settle on the decision of one Russian bride. “Call me Narcissa. We’ll be family soon enough.” If she survived the summer. Heels clicking against the marble floors and a smile of possibility on her lips, Narcissa’s mood had taken an uptick. She would do well to stop looking at their guest as a failure but a possibility. A change to shape her son’s future in the right direction and perhaps even steal him back from her sister’s home. “The Shafiqs were kind enough to gift them to us. They’re a symbol of beauty, loyalty.” All the things one could hope for on their wedding day. They also died of grief if they lost their mate which had to be the intended meaning of the backhanded gift. “Faithfulness. Has Draco told you how his father and I were matched?”

“Bears and boars.” Rather bores. Is this what Russians spoke about? “I won’t worry how you’ll fair against the birds while outdoors any longer.” A charmed handle opened at her presence and Narcissa swept into her sitting rooms, pleased to see the elves had done away with the layers of dust that used to tell just how frequently Narcissa found herself in this area of her home. The atrium had become her den of choice, not tucked away rooms where she couldn’t be admired. “I encourage you to explore more. If you were to wander somewhere you’re not meant to be, the manor will set you right.” Malfoy blood was required for all the hidden passageways and tucked away secrets. All the corridors she was sure Lucius used to spring out from for dramatic effect. “They are.” She wandered the room, finding a window seat and lifting a cushion in order to grasp– there! The book she pulled out was slim, unassuming, and with a tap of her wand the words Sanctimonia Vincet Semper appeared on the cover. “I was younger than you when my mother-in-law gifted these rooms to me. After my wedding. I can’t imagine that being away from your family is easy, Anastasia, but a space of your own may help with it. And this comes with the rooms.” 

Strolling back, she held out the thin book that appeared to contain no more than a chapter’s worth of information with two hands. The hefty weight of the hardcover not matching appearance. “Every Malfoy wife has read these pages since, well, let’s go with centuries.” Anything to do with numbers took far too much time. “It’s difficult for me to remember a time when this lifestyle was foreign but I know at one point it was. Everything you will need to know is in here.” Meaning Narcissa did not have the patience to answer questions upon questions. The dense contradictory guide of rules, regulations, and outdated societal norms would have to do. 

anastasiadolohov​:

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If Anastasia were a lesser woman, of weaker body and mind, the threat of the birds might have sent her running straight back up to her room. She’d never seen anything like it - surely these birds did not reside in Russia? A bird like this didn’t seem like it would survive a harsh winter - it looked as though a strong gust of wind would knock it over. This was a strange place, but Anastasia needed to get used to the Malfoy ways. After all, it seemed as though she would not be a Dolohov for much longer.

The Malfoy’s seemed like the sort of people that holidayed in Spanish islands, not in Russian mountains. It was a shame, really, that her father thought these people were the best choice for her. Why couldn’t she have been pledged to Ivanov, or Belsky? But she knew that arguing was fruitless - if nothing else, it was likely that her father would petition the Malfoy’s to bring the wedding forward the more she complained. He was that sort of man. “They are lovely gardens,” Anastasia complimented, a small smile crossing her lips. “I can see that lots of work has gone into them. They must be your…hm, how you say, your joy and pride?”

“I’ve never seen a peacock before,” Ana confessed, turning to look back at the horrid birds. “How many roam these lands?” The bird was creeping closer, and Anastasia took another step back, further into the perceived safety of the manor. “Of course they bite,” Ana said in exasperation, throwing her hands into the air. “They look like little horrors. How can you bear for them to be in your lovely gardens?”

❀

Being blonde was a pro for the young Dolohov but her list of cons was far longer. A Russian in the Malfoy home, carrying the Malfoy name, and wearing the family jewels. Her own mother-in-law would be haunting the corridors before long, content to level Narcissa with a haughty look of judgement until the end of her own days. “How sweet of you to say. Pride and joy.” Five years in this country and Anastasia still hadn’t mastered conversation? They couldn’t take her anywhere until this was remedied. “Draco holds that title though the gardens are quickly rising through the ranks. Perhaps it would best for you to warn him flowers may take that accolade from him.” In her own time as an unmarried woman bearing a maiden name in an estate far larger than one she had occupied before, Narcissa had taken to learning all the ways a Malfoy woman carried herself. She expected the same of her future daughter-in-law. “Fifty or seventy. You’ll have to ask the ornithologist. He keeps track of these things.” A second eyebrow joined the first, lips pursing at the show of dramatics Anastasia was putting on. Draco needed someone intelligent, which she was, for a partner. Someone strong, a quality Narcissa thought was required in the cold barren home this Dolohov hailed from. 

“As I said, those horrors were a gift. Surely you’re used to horrific creatures. Bears, wolves, your boars and tigers. You’ll find none of those here. Just flamboyant peacocks strutting about the estate.” The head of said flamboyant fowl leaned in past the threshold of the outer door. A quick flash of her wand sent a stinging hex in its direction, finding a home between the beady murderous eyes of the bird with a taste for blood. “Flora and fauna aren’t in their palette. They’re carnivores.” Turning on her heel, the hem of her dress flowing behind her, Narcissa began her trek to her sitting rooms. A rarely used set of walls gifted to her once the marriage contract had been signed and the last golden threads of her wedding bond had disappeared from her pale wrist. It was only when she reached the door and didn’t hear the sounds of following footsteps that she looked over her shoulder, head tilting in confusion. “Do you require a formal invitation, Anastasia? Come.” 

anastasiadolohov​:

Who: Anastasia & @nvmalfoy Where: Malfoy Manor

Anastasia was adjusting to life in a new home with varying levels of success. She found that the Malfoy house elves were nowhere near as friendly as Gleb (despite Antonin’s dismay at how his children had found a friend in the house elf), instead they appeared almost terrified that Anastasia had tried to speak to them. Her accommodations were more than acceptable, and adjusting to having someone cook for her again rather than cooking for herself which she had been doing since working for the ministry was odd. Never mind how early the Malfoy’s seemed to take dinner.

There was so much of the manor yet to explore on her days off, and it was so vast that Ana rarely ran into another resident of the manor. The sun was out now, and dressed appropriately Anastasia had decided to spend the day exploring the grounds of the manor. Perhaps she could petition Draco for a puppy when they married - she at least wanted something to help keep her bed warm at night, if her betrothed would not.

Anastasia left the manor and paused for a moment, breathing in the fresh air with her eyes closed to bask in the sun. It was at that moment that a peacock pranced straight past her, completely unbothered by her presence as it spread it’s feathers and squarked loudly, interrupting her peace. “Fuck,” Ana jumped half out of her skin, which only made the bird squark again. Turning heel, Anastasia hurried back inside and almost ran headfirst into Narcissa. “Madam Malfoy - ahem, Narcissa…what are those birds? They’re positively horrid.”

❀

The Russian Bride as Narcissa had taken to calling her was different than expected. Dolohov was not a man she wanted to share grandchild visitations with. A Russian was not the answer to the next Mrs. Malfoy. A high title, one she herself had to mold and change to fit. The younger generation was a lost cause. Britain had no decent pureblood witch relatively close to being appropriate for Draco. They had to turn elsewhere. They had to seem desperate instead of exclusive and picky. At least the girl was blonde. The gardens were her pride and joy. Ignoring the painful seven year period of poor blooming roses, they had been the only thing on manor grounds to not disappoint Narcissa. Once upon a time it had been Draco but children weren’t perfect. Children played with hair charms and thought themselves grown by playing forever bachelor. Rebellion was a concept she couldn’t grasp despite having incidents of her own. There was a rebellion within the newest member of the household. She just hadn’t identified what it was yet.

A manicured eyebrow was raised, lips sinking into a cool smirk of knowing as she took in Anastasia’s shocked face and the proud stupid fowl lurking just past the open door to the atrium. “Anastasia. I didn’t know you enjoyed the gardens.” She’d have to give her a tour. “Peacocks. They were a wedding gift.” One not on the registry that seemed to live forever and hold more viciousness in their frail freakish legs than any bird had a right to. “Careful.” Her warning was delayed, gaze drawn to the slow approaching proud male creeping up on her future daughter-in-law. Not that the unpleasant creature that took joy in ruining her flowers could enter the house. “They bite.”