𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 [𝐣.𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫]

36: 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔡, 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔩𝔲𝔢

TW: parental abuse, vulgar language towards a girl's body

Also- for anyone who's seeing this chapter right when it comes out, please wait 10-15 minutes before reading. I'm adding the English translations to the French dialogue in the comments so you guys don't have to constantly scroll down to author's note to see what the English translation is!

The Alarie English Estate was a 1,000 acre plot containing two solid marble swimming pools (one indoors, and another for external use, of course), an elaborate expanse of a garden complete with marble sculptures from the Roman Empire and a yew hedge maze, and 15 bedrooms, each with their own bath. Every evening, she ate in the intricate, gilded dining hall, practiced her waltz in one of two vast ballrooms, and chose a book from her father's abundant archives. 

Additionally, the English Mansion was situated near the coast. This was only her summer house, after all. Her real home was in France.

From a glance, her summer house appeared to be a quaint little cottage. However, with merely a snap of their fingers, anyone with Alarie blood could reveal its true structure. The Alaries sneered at other wizarding families and their blatant display of wealth. Alarie wasn't a household name, not like Malfoy, or Lestrange. 

In fact, none other than the most wealthy spoke their name. They remained silent, creeping in the shadows. This was why Alexandre's reforms had been so successful in France. He did not allow himself to become a political figurehead. Instead, he carefully selected the people he funded and backed them with unimaginable wealth. His gold was what funded the purification of the French Ministry, stripping muggle-born witches and wizards of their political titles. 

Alexandre's money was exchanged, sometimes his daughter was thrown in as a bargaining chip, and then hands were shaken, all while France slept. None the wiser. 

Of course, these reforms only served to make him wealthier. Filthy fucking rich, as Remus might say.

Brigitte wouldn't have been surprised if Sirius was the only one out of her friends that knew of the massive fortune she stood to inherit. Potter, of course, was a well-known surname, indicating an established family of blood traitors. Brigitte knew they were wealthy but with only a fraction of the gold that was in her father's bank account.

Even the Noble House of Black was incomparable to the wealth of the House of Alarie. While the Blacks were some of the wealthiest Englishmen, the Alaries were the wealthiest of all Europe.

Brigitte walked to the parlor, posture stiff and obedient. Caroline pressed a fleeting kiss against her temple before disappearing off to find Hilly. 

"Mon amour," Alexandre said slowly, eyes flashing coldly at Brigitte. "Je pense que vous serez ravi d'entendre parler de ma nouvelle proposition." 

Brigitte forced her lips into a smile. "Ouais, papa? Quest-ce que c'est?"

Alexandre remained silent for a moment, before reaching toward, quickly, towards Brigitte's face. Her breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut in alarm. She remained like this, eyes closed in terrified anticipation. All she felt was the gentle brushing of her father's fingertips against her cheek, brushing away a stray lock of hair.

"N'aie pas peur, mon amour," he said gently. "Cela va vous exciter."

Brigitte wondered if her father could hear her heart, beating wildly against her chest. If he could see her trembling hands, the way her lip wanted to quiver like a little girl's. Her father always had a way of making her feel as though she were seven once again.

"Vous serez bientôt majeur, n'est-ce pas?" He asked casually, adjusting one of the roses from a meticulous floral arrangement that sat beside them. "Se marier, c'est-à-dire."