"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."
-William Congreve
Narcissa idly twirled a stray strand of her blonde hair, a habit she never enforced to break since childhood. She hated waiting, especially when the near future didn’t look all too bright. Lucius would be home soon, exhausted as it was from a hard day’s work. To trouble his mind even more would be a deathly mistake, but she had to face the consequences. Lucius had to know, even if she herself couldn’t fully comprehend the situation. Who knew what was going through her son’s head as he agreed to help the destitute Weasleys.
Ever since Draco was little, he found anything related to secret charms and forbidden curses to be fascinating. Raising the dead so happened to be one of his many curiosities, and unlike a true Malfoy, he had acted carelessly when raising the Weasley girl back from the dead. Then again, who even knew that the girl was dead to begin with?
At the last minute, house elves skittered forwards to hear out their mistress’s last orders before the master was to arrive. She shooed them all away, not needing anything done, nor wanting the irritation of hearing their voices for much longer. The vapid creatures seemed to notice this, and immediately set forth to punishing themselves. She watched amusedly as one particular house elf rammed its ugly head against the door. Silly creatures, house elves were.
“Don’t you dare make a dent,” she said icily. They stumbled over their own feet, rushing to leave her presence. Peace, at last… or not.
She heard the doors slam, and the distinct noise her husband’s cane made when slammed against the polished marble floors. She rushed over to the foyer to greet him, an odd thought flitting through her mind of her acting how those house elves behaved just before. Instead of them at her beck and call, she was at his.
“Lucius,” she greeted, slowing down her pace until she finally stood in front of him. She was met with his broad arms encircling her waist, giving her a full-hearted hug.
“My dear,” he said, just before planting a delicate kiss on her forehead.
They broke out of their embrace, Lucius making move to head over to his study, as was his custom once he arrived home. She immediately trailed after him.
“There’s something I need to discuss with you,” she began coolly, letting the words sink in. “I haven’t been quite honest with you lately.”
This caught his attention, but instead of a scowl she fully expected, he smirked. Malfoy’s after all didn’t smile; they smirked.
“We all have our secrets Narcissa. Heaven forbid if you ever knew of mine.” He continued walking, annoying her to no end.
She stomped her foot. There was no one but her husband to ridicule her childish behavior, but he would never do that. “Lucius Malfoy! You will look at me when I’m speaking to you. There’s something I need to tell you, and this farce cannot continue until you’re aware of it.”
Lucius sighed. “A farce, Narcissa? What are you blathering about?” He leaned onto his cane, grey eyes dancing amusedly as he watched her flustered form. Why did Lucius never take her seriously?
“Well, out with it then. There are things I need to attend to before dinner starts.”
She hesitated. “It concerns your son… and the Weasleys.” She forced her eyes to begin tearing. “Oh Lucius! Please don’t get too upset as I tell you this. Promise me you won’t harm Draco.” She flung herself into his arms, making sure to sniffle every so often. Hopefully, her loving husband wouldn’t see through her ploy.
She was in luck, for Lucius was overwhelmed to have an emotional female latched onto him, shocked that she would behave this way, even behind closed doors.
“I demand you desist Narcissa,” he ordered, although he patted her back comfortingly.
“Only if you promise,” she whispered gently into his ear. “Promise me, Lucius.”
He sighed in exasperation. “I promise, just stop your tears.”
Narcissa smiled brightly at his reply. All was good… so far at least.
* * *
Draco sat uneasily on the edge of his bed, a book propped on his lap, its pages worn and faded from old age and frequent use. The text had so far provided him with no pertinent information, much to his chagrin. “Stupid Weasley with her stupid personality,” he grumbled, turning the page quickly.
“What of my personality?” a quiet voice asked.
Draco let out a yelp and tumbled to the ground in surprise.
“I apologize for catching you unawares of my… visit.”
“Bloody hell! What are you doing here in my room?” Draco nearly screamed as he scrambled back up onto the bed. His pale face had gone red as he stared at the unwelcome guest, standing innocently enough by his fireplace. “And just how did you land in my room? The floo network connects to the great room, definitely not my room!”
“You talk too much,” Ginny Weasley said to him as she walked over to an empty chair and sat down.
“What are you doing?” he asked, confounded.
Ginny looked up from her task of unpacking her bag full of her personal belongings. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You’re littering my carpet with your garbage!”
“Am not,” Ginny replied defensively. “Mum instructed me to come here, and so now I’m here. You were there, were you not? You know the deal.”
Draco shook his head. “You’ll be staying in your own room, not mine, so kindly get out.”
“I like this room,” Ginny said. She walked over to his bed and sat down next to him. “Comfy.” She grabbed a pillow closer to her and rested her head against the silken Egyptian cotton. “I think I’ll stay here.”
Draco’s eyes widened. “What? You can’t stay here! This is my room.”
Ginny looked around her. “It’s big enough for the both of us, Malfoy. And your bed could sleep up to four people at least.”
“I don’t want four people sleeping on my bed! It’s my bed!”
Ginny closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Too bad, because it’s mine now. Mine and mine alone… unless you want to share?”
By now, Draco was deeply angry and a tad bit scared of the youngest Weasley.
“Get your own bloody room to contaminate, Weasley,” he hissed angrily, shoving the girl off his now messy bed. He quickly attempted to smoothen out the sheets, causing the young girl to laugh.
“Are you a hidden neat freak, Draco Malfoy? I never would have pictured you the type,” Ginny said amusedly, propping her elbows against the carpeted ground as her hands cradled her chin.
Draco glared, not sure how to retaliate to the girl who just invaded his room. “Go back home Weasley. It seems your tongue found its way back into your mouth. Tell your Mother I cured you, and that she now owes the Malfoys two, let me repeat, two Wizarding debts.”
Ginny grinned. “Why would I ever want to go back there when I could be here?”
Draco’s eyes widened even more, if that were even possible. “What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you were keeping quiet in that room of yours on purpose.”
She shrugged. “They stole me away from my happy place.”
“If you’ve forgotten, I helped them do it.”
Ginny shook her head. “They dragged you into it.”
“But I offered,” he argued back.
“I’m not focusing my anger out on you, but on them. Something in me can’t seem to resolve the deep hate I have towards them. They did something that I can’t seem to remember….” Ginny scrunched up her nose, trying to figure out what exactly she was forgetting.
“I’m your worst enemy. You hate me too.”
Ginny began to laugh once again. “You, hate you? I don’t think I could ever hate something so cruelly beautiful.”
Draco’s face blanched of all color, leaving him a shade paler than his normal coloring. “I am not beautiful. I’m handsome. Beautiful is to be used towards girls, not boys.”
Ginny gave a little shrug. “Say what you may, but you are still beautiful.” A small sigh passed through her lips. “You looked like one of the angels when I first saw you.”
Draco frowned. “The first time I saw you, I made fun of you. Why would you think I looked like a heavenly being?”
Ginny bit her bottom lip. “No, I’m talking about that time in the forest. It seems so long ago, but it was only just a week before.”
The door banged open and Lucius, who was trailed behind Narcissa, stormed into Draco’s entertainment room, grey eyes searching out for his troublesome son.
“Remember your promise, Lucius,” Narcissa whispered to him, but Lucius pretended not to hear her.
“Boy, come here now!” Lucius stood still in his son’s entertainment room, waiting expectantly for one of the many doors in the adjoining rooms to open.
Meanwhile, in Draco’s bedroom, he was in a panic. “You have to hide yourself Weasley. If Father sees you here…” He jumped off the bed and grabbed Ginny’s slim arm, directing her towards his walk-in closet.
“What the--?” Ginny started to ask, but immediately Draco stifled her voice with his hand.
“Really now, can’t you shut up just once like you did before?” Draco asked exasperatedly as he shoved the tall girl inside his closet, closing the door as he entered as well.
“Malfoy, are you really hiding in the closet from your Father?” Ginny asked in disbelief.
Draco nodded tersely, his eyes gazing at the door nervously.
“Malfoy,” Ginny continued. “What are you, three? I can’t believe you’re hiding from your own father. Not so brave, are you Malfoy?”
“Shut up,” he hissed, glaring at the red head.
“He could just cast a tracking spell, you idiot,” Ginny continued to talk.
“I don’t need a tracking spell. My son’s too predictable when it comes to his hiding spots,” a cool voice answered. The door was now open, and there stood Lucius Malfoy, a grim look on his handsome features. “Out, now,” Lucius ordered, as he watched the two teenagers walk out of the closet.
Narcissa got up from where she was sitting. “Oh dear, he found you.”
Lucius chanced a glare at his wife. They were all against him, it seemed.
“We’re all going to have a long chat, a very long chat indeed.” Lucius said, settling himself on one of the high-backed chairs in the room.
“This seems like a family meeting, so I think I’ll just leave. If you’ll excuse me,” Ginny said as she made an attempt to run.
But it was no use as she clasped the doorknob, finally realizing that she was trapped inside the room.
“It seems you’re very much a part of this, Miss Weasley. I’d like to know a few things about you as well, such as how the Malfoys got involved into helping you.”
Draco sunk deeper into his own seat. Soon enough, the inquisition was to begin, and he wasn’t going to enjoy a single moment of it.
-William Congreve
Narcissa idly twirled a stray strand of her blonde hair, a habit she never enforced to break since childhood. She hated waiting, especially when the near future didn’t look all too bright. Lucius would be home soon, exhausted as it was from a hard day’s work. To trouble his mind even more would be a deathly mistake, but she had to face the consequences. Lucius had to know, even if she herself couldn’t fully comprehend the situation. Who knew what was going through her son’s head as he agreed to help the destitute Weasleys.
Ever since Draco was little, he found anything related to secret charms and forbidden curses to be fascinating. Raising the dead so happened to be one of his many curiosities, and unlike a true Malfoy, he had acted carelessly when raising the Weasley girl back from the dead. Then again, who even knew that the girl was dead to begin with?
At the last minute, house elves skittered forwards to hear out their mistress’s last orders before the master was to arrive. She shooed them all away, not needing anything done, nor wanting the irritation of hearing their voices for much longer. The vapid creatures seemed to notice this, and immediately set forth to punishing themselves. She watched amusedly as one particular house elf rammed its ugly head against the door. Silly creatures, house elves were.
“Don’t you dare make a dent,” she said icily. They stumbled over their own feet, rushing to leave her presence. Peace, at last… or not.
She heard the doors slam, and the distinct noise her husband’s cane made when slammed against the polished marble floors. She rushed over to the foyer to greet him, an odd thought flitting through her mind of her acting how those house elves behaved just before. Instead of them at her beck and call, she was at his.
“Lucius,” she greeted, slowing down her pace until she finally stood in front of him. She was met with his broad arms encircling her waist, giving her a full-hearted hug.
“My dear,” he said, just before planting a delicate kiss on her forehead.
They broke out of their embrace, Lucius making move to head over to his study, as was his custom once he arrived home. She immediately trailed after him.
“There’s something I need to discuss with you,” she began coolly, letting the words sink in. “I haven’t been quite honest with you lately.”
This caught his attention, but instead of a scowl she fully expected, he smirked. Malfoy’s after all didn’t smile; they smirked.
“We all have our secrets Narcissa. Heaven forbid if you ever knew of mine.” He continued walking, annoying her to no end.
She stomped her foot. There was no one but her husband to ridicule her childish behavior, but he would never do that. “Lucius Malfoy! You will look at me when I’m speaking to you. There’s something I need to tell you, and this farce cannot continue until you’re aware of it.”
Lucius sighed. “A farce, Narcissa? What are you blathering about?” He leaned onto his cane, grey eyes dancing amusedly as he watched her flustered form. Why did Lucius never take her seriously?
“Well, out with it then. There are things I need to attend to before dinner starts.”
She hesitated. “It concerns your son… and the Weasleys.” She forced her eyes to begin tearing. “Oh Lucius! Please don’t get too upset as I tell you this. Promise me you won’t harm Draco.” She flung herself into his arms, making sure to sniffle every so often. Hopefully, her loving husband wouldn’t see through her ploy.
She was in luck, for Lucius was overwhelmed to have an emotional female latched onto him, shocked that she would behave this way, even behind closed doors.
“I demand you desist Narcissa,” he ordered, although he patted her back comfortingly.
“Only if you promise,” she whispered gently into his ear. “Promise me, Lucius.”
He sighed in exasperation. “I promise, just stop your tears.”
Narcissa smiled brightly at his reply. All was good… so far at least.
* * *
Draco sat uneasily on the edge of his bed, a book propped on his lap, its pages worn and faded from old age and frequent use. The text had so far provided him with no pertinent information, much to his chagrin. “Stupid Weasley with her stupid personality,” he grumbled, turning the page quickly.
“What of my personality?” a quiet voice asked.
Draco let out a yelp and tumbled to the ground in surprise.
“I apologize for catching you unawares of my… visit.”
“Bloody hell! What are you doing here in my room?” Draco nearly screamed as he scrambled back up onto the bed. His pale face had gone red as he stared at the unwelcome guest, standing innocently enough by his fireplace. “And just how did you land in my room? The floo network connects to the great room, definitely not my room!”
“You talk too much,” Ginny Weasley said to him as she walked over to an empty chair and sat down.
“What are you doing?” he asked, confounded.
Ginny looked up from her task of unpacking her bag full of her personal belongings. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You’re littering my carpet with your garbage!”
“Am not,” Ginny replied defensively. “Mum instructed me to come here, and so now I’m here. You were there, were you not? You know the deal.”
Draco shook his head. “You’ll be staying in your own room, not mine, so kindly get out.”
“I like this room,” Ginny said. She walked over to his bed and sat down next to him. “Comfy.” She grabbed a pillow closer to her and rested her head against the silken Egyptian cotton. “I think I’ll stay here.”
Draco’s eyes widened. “What? You can’t stay here! This is my room.”
Ginny looked around her. “It’s big enough for the both of us, Malfoy. And your bed could sleep up to four people at least.”
“I don’t want four people sleeping on my bed! It’s my bed!”
Ginny closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Too bad, because it’s mine now. Mine and mine alone… unless you want to share?”
By now, Draco was deeply angry and a tad bit scared of the youngest Weasley.
“Get your own bloody room to contaminate, Weasley,” he hissed angrily, shoving the girl off his now messy bed. He quickly attempted to smoothen out the sheets, causing the young girl to laugh.
“Are you a hidden neat freak, Draco Malfoy? I never would have pictured you the type,” Ginny said amusedly, propping her elbows against the carpeted ground as her hands cradled her chin.
Draco glared, not sure how to retaliate to the girl who just invaded his room. “Go back home Weasley. It seems your tongue found its way back into your mouth. Tell your Mother I cured you, and that she now owes the Malfoys two, let me repeat, two Wizarding debts.”
Ginny grinned. “Why would I ever want to go back there when I could be here?”
Draco’s eyes widened even more, if that were even possible. “What are you talking about? Don’t tell me you were keeping quiet in that room of yours on purpose.”
She shrugged. “They stole me away from my happy place.”
“If you’ve forgotten, I helped them do it.”
Ginny shook her head. “They dragged you into it.”
“But I offered,” he argued back.
“I’m not focusing my anger out on you, but on them. Something in me can’t seem to resolve the deep hate I have towards them. They did something that I can’t seem to remember….” Ginny scrunched up her nose, trying to figure out what exactly she was forgetting.
“I’m your worst enemy. You hate me too.”
Ginny began to laugh once again. “You, hate you? I don’t think I could ever hate something so cruelly beautiful.”
Draco’s face blanched of all color, leaving him a shade paler than his normal coloring. “I am not beautiful. I’m handsome. Beautiful is to be used towards girls, not boys.”
Ginny gave a little shrug. “Say what you may, but you are still beautiful.” A small sigh passed through her lips. “You looked like one of the angels when I first saw you.”
Draco frowned. “The first time I saw you, I made fun of you. Why would you think I looked like a heavenly being?”
Ginny bit her bottom lip. “No, I’m talking about that time in the forest. It seems so long ago, but it was only just a week before.”
The door banged open and Lucius, who was trailed behind Narcissa, stormed into Draco’s entertainment room, grey eyes searching out for his troublesome son.
“Remember your promise, Lucius,” Narcissa whispered to him, but Lucius pretended not to hear her.
“Boy, come here now!” Lucius stood still in his son’s entertainment room, waiting expectantly for one of the many doors in the adjoining rooms to open.
Meanwhile, in Draco’s bedroom, he was in a panic. “You have to hide yourself Weasley. If Father sees you here…” He jumped off the bed and grabbed Ginny’s slim arm, directing her towards his walk-in closet.
“What the--?” Ginny started to ask, but immediately Draco stifled her voice with his hand.
“Really now, can’t you shut up just once like you did before?” Draco asked exasperatedly as he shoved the tall girl inside his closet, closing the door as he entered as well.
“Malfoy, are you really hiding in the closet from your Father?” Ginny asked in disbelief.
Draco nodded tersely, his eyes gazing at the door nervously.
“Malfoy,” Ginny continued. “What are you, three? I can’t believe you’re hiding from your own father. Not so brave, are you Malfoy?”
“Shut up,” he hissed, glaring at the red head.
“He could just cast a tracking spell, you idiot,” Ginny continued to talk.
“I don’t need a tracking spell. My son’s too predictable when it comes to his hiding spots,” a cool voice answered. The door was now open, and there stood Lucius Malfoy, a grim look on his handsome features. “Out, now,” Lucius ordered, as he watched the two teenagers walk out of the closet.
Narcissa got up from where she was sitting. “Oh dear, he found you.”
Lucius chanced a glare at his wife. They were all against him, it seemed.
“We’re all going to have a long chat, a very long chat indeed.” Lucius said, settling himself on one of the high-backed chairs in the room.
“This seems like a family meeting, so I think I’ll just leave. If you’ll excuse me,” Ginny said as she made an attempt to run.
But it was no use as she clasped the doorknob, finally realizing that she was trapped inside the room.
“It seems you’re very much a part of this, Miss Weasley. I’d like to know a few things about you as well, such as how the Malfoys got involved into helping you.”
Draco sunk deeper into his own seat. Soon enough, the inquisition was to begin, and he wasn’t going to enjoy a single moment of it.
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