The glass conservatory provided a rare sanctuary from the oppressive gloom of Lestrange Manor, its air thick with the damp, rich scent of orchids. Antonia sat cradling a porcelain teacup, her hands still trembling—not just from her usual physical frailty, but from the lingering phantom of Tom Riddle's legilimency.
Across the wrought-iron table, James Potter slouched back in a plush velvet armchair, his long legs stretched out perilously close to a set of rare Gobstones. Without glasses, his hazel eyes had a soft, unrefined quality, though his messy dark hair remained as wild as ever.
"If you drop one of those onto the marble, Vinny will never forgive you," Antonia said, her dry voice catching slightly.
James scoffed, picking up one of the foul-smelling marbles. "I was just checking the seal. Besides, your house-elf likes me. She gave me three extra sweet tarts when I arrived."
"She tolerates you because you bring sweet treats and don't make a mess," she countered, a faint smirk touching her pale lips.
The quiet that settled between them was a welcome contrast to the tension in the main house. James leaned forward, his boyish arrogance giving way to genuine curiosity. "So, do you ever actually leave this place? Or do your brothers keep you locked away in dark rooms all day?"
Antonia looked down at her lap, her blue-and-white dress draping over her gaunt frame. "I get out to the gardens when the weather behaves. Rodolphus prefers I stay inside—he thinks the cold makes my condition worse."
"He's not entirely wrong," James muttered, his tone softening. "When I walked in today and you nearly collapsed in the foyer, I thought you were done for. You look like a gust of wind could knock you flat on your back."
"I am sturdy enough," Antonia replied with mock indignity. "I survived five consecutive rounds of wizarding chess against you, didn't I?"
"Only because you're ruthless," James shot back, a sudden grin breaking across his face. He reached into his robes and slid a small, paper-wrapped parcel across the table. "Here. My mum sent this. She said pureblood manors have terrible kitchens and that you looked like you needed something proper to eat."
Antonia unknotted the string to reveal a stack of fresh, golden-brown sugar biscuits smelling faintly of cinnamon. The unprompted kindness of Euphemia Potter—so violently out of place in the Lestrange household—caused an unexpected sting behind her eyes.
"Thank you," she whispered, taking a small, quiet bite.
"Mum makes the best sweets in Britain," James said proudly. He paused, his smile fading into a rare moment of sober reflection. "If we're... well, if we're actually going to have to go through with this whole bloody marriage contract in a few years, at least you'll get decent food out of it."
Antonia let out a soft laugh. "Is that your silver lining, Potter? Biscuits?"
"Good food matters!" James declared, before sighing and resting his elbows on his knees. "My dad hated signing it, you know. I wanted to scream at him until he ripped the parchment up. But... you seemed just as terrified as I was when our parents were talking."
"I was angry," Antonia admitted quietly, staring down at the biscuit. "Angry that choices were being made for me while I was helpless in bed. But my brothers didn't do it out of cruelty, James. They thought they were protecting our line."
And protecting me from Riddle, she added silently to herself.
James searched her face for a long moment. "If you ever need to get away from all this ancient contract nonsense..."
"James," she interrupted softly, offering a fragile smile. "I am a Lestrange. This manor is my home, and my brothers would do anything to keep me safe."
Finding no deceit in her expression, James sighed and pulled out a wooden checkers board. "You're weirdly stubborn for someone who looks like a ghost. But I'm not letting you win checkers."
For the next two hours, the grand conservatory felt warm and bright. The shadow of the Dark Lord and the burden of pureblood politics receded behind the clatter of wooden tokens and James's dramatic groans of defeat. By the time Rodolphus stepped into the doorway to announce that Fleamont Potter was waiting at the Floo network, Antonia realized that despite the terrifying reality of the world she had woken up in, she was no longer entirely alone.