Cold wind blows my hair from my face. Pale sunshine doesn't warm. Winter is
coming, and it makes me want to leave this place. For a short time, it was
my home. Nothing will be as it once was, never again can I hope to find
happiness here. Too many sad memories linger here like bittersweet scent.
I pull my coat tighter around me, but it still won't hold warmth. It's old and worn out, I need a new one. I walk slowly around the pond, wind scatters my reflection on its surface. I remember all those warm, happy summer nights here, with my love. We used to swim and make love and talk. . . With him I could talk about anything. Now I have no one to talk to, I have to bear this pain alone. I have nothing. . .
I turn around and begin walking towards the Malfoy manor. I don't belong here, I never really did. Though, it was nice to pretend so. Everything is so grand and beautiful. For weeks now I have said that I'm leaving, but I haven't. I do want to go, but where? I have nothing.
In the last war against Voldemort, all my friends and family died. Mother, Father. . . Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, even Percy. . . Harry. Harry would surely have helped me, if he had survived. He killed Voldemort, and sacrificed his own life for it. He was too good for this world. Once I loved him, too, but that was more like little girl's first love, than anything to be taken seriously.
When everythig was gone, and I was broken, the most unlikely person was suddenly there to pick up the pieces and make them whole again. Draco, my corgeous dragon, saved me from completely losing myself. I was on the edge for a long time, but he had the patience that was needed to pull me back.
We married, and I realized I felt more towards him than gratitude. I had grown to love him. We lived here, and I was happy. As happy as I could be, with the old devil Lucius around. Draco's father never approved our marriage. More than once or twice I overheard them talking, Lucius said I wasn't strong enough for Malfoy. That eventually I will break. He never sounded concerned, I got the expression that he would have been pleased to see me break. He never did, and he never will.
And now, after five years of happiness, love and. . life, Draco is dead too. He got ill, nobody knew what it was, and he died. I think I am still too numb to cry. Tears will come, when it's time. Sometimes I wish I hadn't so firmly decided that Lucius wouldn't see me breaking. Sometimes I wish I could just cry. But tears won't come, not yet. When it's time. But not yet.
I suddenly notice that I have come back inside, and I'm wandering aimlessly in the manor. For some reason I stop at the library door, and I hear footsteps from the other side. I back away, but whoever it is in there doesn't come out. I stand behind that door for a long time. I don't hear anything any more. I wonder if it was only my imagination in the first place. I open the door and step in.
There's a fire in a fireplace, the room is warm and inviting. Then I see the person I've been avoiding the best I can since Draco's death. Lucius Malfoy. He's sitting - or rather lying - on an armchair, with half empty bottle of wine on the table in front of him. His face is marked with tears. The last person I ever expected to see crying. If fate has a sense of humor, it's really weird and twisted one.
I'm just about to leave quietly, when he opens his eyes and looks straight at me. He smiles. Not a pleasant smile in any way, you can believe. It's maybe the most horrible expression I've ever seen on a human face. Except Voldemort's so-called smile, but then, I wouldn't have concidered his face 'human'. Lucius' eyes are filled with something that is beyond pain or any other human feeling. I want to scream, but not a sound comes out. Then he speaks. . .
"He's dead, girl. My son is dead. What are you still doing here?" His voice is colder and more emotionless than ever. He sounds like someone who has lost the ability to feel. I cannot answer, I want to run away but I cannot move, I just stand and stare at him, scared to the point of collapsing. He laughs softly. I start to shiver uncontrollably, but still I can't move my feet and walk away.
"Is it because of the baby?" he asks. "Is that why you don't leave? You know you would survive somehow if it was just you, but you don't want your baby to live on the streets. . . Isn't it so?"
I almost faint. How can he know? How? It doesn't show yet, he can't know. . . I'm leaning on the wall, and waiting that the room would stop spinning, breathing heavily. He can't know, I just found out myself two days ago. . . He can't know. . .
"I can see I hit the mark," he says. "Do not worry, Virginia. I don't want Draco's child to grow up anywhere else than in the Malfoy manor, where he belongs. Or she, however." Then he seems to forget that I'm there. I can finally move, and I don't waste time getting out of the library. I don't stop until I get to my room.
The next morning, when I wake up, the manor is quiet. Sun is shining outside, it's going to be a nice september day. In the sunlight, last night's events seem like a distant nightmare. I dress up and then wander again in the manor. It's all I seem to do nowadays.
Somehow I end up at the library door again. I open it and step in. . . It takes me few seconds to understand what my eyes see. When I do, the next thing I realize is that I'm on my hands and knees on the floor and emptying my stomach. I stand up wiping my mouth and just stare at the sight: Lucius is still lying in the armchair, and it would seem like he's sleeping if there weren't blood everywhere. The wine bottle is broken into thousand pieces and, apparently with one of those pieces, Lucius has cut his wrists. Half dried blood everywhere, a lake of blood on the floor under the chair. . . So much blood. . . I feel suddenly dizzy, and when I try to walk away of the horrible scene, my legs give in and I lose consciousness.
I wake up in my bed. I stare at the ceiling. I don't want to move. I don't want to find out what the fate has planned for me next. I want to fall asleep and never wake, never again. I feel so tired, I can't keep my eyes open. I fall into restless sleep filled with nightmares that I can't escape. More than once I really try to wake, but it doesn't work. In the nightmares I see all the familiar faces, faces of the people who loved me, but now they have come to accuse me of everything. I try to fight, but the power of the drean is too strong. I continue fighting until I can't fight any more and I think I'm dying. Then the nightmares suddenly disappear, and I sleep peacefully. . .
When I wake again I have no idea of how long I have slept. My mouth is dry and I'm so weak I couldn't get out of the bed if my life depended on it.
"Finally you're awake, my Lady." There's somebody else in the room. With an effort I turn my head and see a serving woman maybe few years older than myself. She helps me drink something cool and bitter tasting liquid. It helps me to clear my head.
"What time is it?" I ask; I can't think of anything else to say.
"It's about 11.15 am, and the fifth of november, if my Lady wants to know."
I stare at her, shocked. Surely she isn't joking, is she? "How. . . How is that possible?" I manage to ask.
"You were sick, my Lady. For almost two weeks. We already thought we lost you, and the child, but then the fiever broke last night."
"Does everybody know? About the child, I mean?"
"Yes, everybody here knows. We were worried. . . Oh, I forgot. Here's a letter for you, my Lady."
The woman hands me a rolled piece of parchment. I send her away and unroll it. The letter is written with Lucius' beautiful, artistic handwriting. It says: "Virginia. No, I won't say 'dear Virginia', because you were never so dear to me. If you read this, it means I finally had the courage to end my meaningless life. So. I always thought I would leave the manor and everything else to Draco, but. . . Now that he's gone, I leave them to you and the baby you carry. Your child is the last hope of Malfoy blood, and I want him to have as good life as possible. So I leave you everything that is Malfoy, Virginia, and I hope you understand how much it takes for me to admit that I have no other choise. -Lucius Diabolo Malfoy"
I read the letter again and again, until I remember every word. Then I realize the tears streaming down my face. Finally I am able to cry. My child is the last hope of the Malfoy blood, and finally I'm able to cry.
I pull my coat tighter around me, but it still won't hold warmth. It's old and worn out, I need a new one. I walk slowly around the pond, wind scatters my reflection on its surface. I remember all those warm, happy summer nights here, with my love. We used to swim and make love and talk. . . With him I could talk about anything. Now I have no one to talk to, I have to bear this pain alone. I have nothing. . .
I turn around and begin walking towards the Malfoy manor. I don't belong here, I never really did. Though, it was nice to pretend so. Everything is so grand and beautiful. For weeks now I have said that I'm leaving, but I haven't. I do want to go, but where? I have nothing.
In the last war against Voldemort, all my friends and family died. Mother, Father. . . Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, even Percy. . . Harry. Harry would surely have helped me, if he had survived. He killed Voldemort, and sacrificed his own life for it. He was too good for this world. Once I loved him, too, but that was more like little girl's first love, than anything to be taken seriously.
When everythig was gone, and I was broken, the most unlikely person was suddenly there to pick up the pieces and make them whole again. Draco, my corgeous dragon, saved me from completely losing myself. I was on the edge for a long time, but he had the patience that was needed to pull me back.
We married, and I realized I felt more towards him than gratitude. I had grown to love him. We lived here, and I was happy. As happy as I could be, with the old devil Lucius around. Draco's father never approved our marriage. More than once or twice I overheard them talking, Lucius said I wasn't strong enough for Malfoy. That eventually I will break. He never sounded concerned, I got the expression that he would have been pleased to see me break. He never did, and he never will.
And now, after five years of happiness, love and. . life, Draco is dead too. He got ill, nobody knew what it was, and he died. I think I am still too numb to cry. Tears will come, when it's time. Sometimes I wish I hadn't so firmly decided that Lucius wouldn't see me breaking. Sometimes I wish I could just cry. But tears won't come, not yet. When it's time. But not yet.
I suddenly notice that I have come back inside, and I'm wandering aimlessly in the manor. For some reason I stop at the library door, and I hear footsteps from the other side. I back away, but whoever it is in there doesn't come out. I stand behind that door for a long time. I don't hear anything any more. I wonder if it was only my imagination in the first place. I open the door and step in.
There's a fire in a fireplace, the room is warm and inviting. Then I see the person I've been avoiding the best I can since Draco's death. Lucius Malfoy. He's sitting - or rather lying - on an armchair, with half empty bottle of wine on the table in front of him. His face is marked with tears. The last person I ever expected to see crying. If fate has a sense of humor, it's really weird and twisted one.
I'm just about to leave quietly, when he opens his eyes and looks straight at me. He smiles. Not a pleasant smile in any way, you can believe. It's maybe the most horrible expression I've ever seen on a human face. Except Voldemort's so-called smile, but then, I wouldn't have concidered his face 'human'. Lucius' eyes are filled with something that is beyond pain or any other human feeling. I want to scream, but not a sound comes out. Then he speaks. . .
"He's dead, girl. My son is dead. What are you still doing here?" His voice is colder and more emotionless than ever. He sounds like someone who has lost the ability to feel. I cannot answer, I want to run away but I cannot move, I just stand and stare at him, scared to the point of collapsing. He laughs softly. I start to shiver uncontrollably, but still I can't move my feet and walk away.
"Is it because of the baby?" he asks. "Is that why you don't leave? You know you would survive somehow if it was just you, but you don't want your baby to live on the streets. . . Isn't it so?"
I almost faint. How can he know? How? It doesn't show yet, he can't know. . . I'm leaning on the wall, and waiting that the room would stop spinning, breathing heavily. He can't know, I just found out myself two days ago. . . He can't know. . .
"I can see I hit the mark," he says. "Do not worry, Virginia. I don't want Draco's child to grow up anywhere else than in the Malfoy manor, where he belongs. Or she, however." Then he seems to forget that I'm there. I can finally move, and I don't waste time getting out of the library. I don't stop until I get to my room.
The next morning, when I wake up, the manor is quiet. Sun is shining outside, it's going to be a nice september day. In the sunlight, last night's events seem like a distant nightmare. I dress up and then wander again in the manor. It's all I seem to do nowadays.
Somehow I end up at the library door again. I open it and step in. . . It takes me few seconds to understand what my eyes see. When I do, the next thing I realize is that I'm on my hands and knees on the floor and emptying my stomach. I stand up wiping my mouth and just stare at the sight: Lucius is still lying in the armchair, and it would seem like he's sleeping if there weren't blood everywhere. The wine bottle is broken into thousand pieces and, apparently with one of those pieces, Lucius has cut his wrists. Half dried blood everywhere, a lake of blood on the floor under the chair. . . So much blood. . . I feel suddenly dizzy, and when I try to walk away of the horrible scene, my legs give in and I lose consciousness.
I wake up in my bed. I stare at the ceiling. I don't want to move. I don't want to find out what the fate has planned for me next. I want to fall asleep and never wake, never again. I feel so tired, I can't keep my eyes open. I fall into restless sleep filled with nightmares that I can't escape. More than once I really try to wake, but it doesn't work. In the nightmares I see all the familiar faces, faces of the people who loved me, but now they have come to accuse me of everything. I try to fight, but the power of the drean is too strong. I continue fighting until I can't fight any more and I think I'm dying. Then the nightmares suddenly disappear, and I sleep peacefully. . .
When I wake again I have no idea of how long I have slept. My mouth is dry and I'm so weak I couldn't get out of the bed if my life depended on it.
"Finally you're awake, my Lady." There's somebody else in the room. With an effort I turn my head and see a serving woman maybe few years older than myself. She helps me drink something cool and bitter tasting liquid. It helps me to clear my head.
"What time is it?" I ask; I can't think of anything else to say.
"It's about 11.15 am, and the fifth of november, if my Lady wants to know."
I stare at her, shocked. Surely she isn't joking, is she? "How. . . How is that possible?" I manage to ask.
"You were sick, my Lady. For almost two weeks. We already thought we lost you, and the child, but then the fiever broke last night."
"Does everybody know? About the child, I mean?"
"Yes, everybody here knows. We were worried. . . Oh, I forgot. Here's a letter for you, my Lady."
The woman hands me a rolled piece of parchment. I send her away and unroll it. The letter is written with Lucius' beautiful, artistic handwriting. It says: "Virginia. No, I won't say 'dear Virginia', because you were never so dear to me. If you read this, it means I finally had the courage to end my meaningless life. So. I always thought I would leave the manor and everything else to Draco, but. . . Now that he's gone, I leave them to you and the baby you carry. Your child is the last hope of Malfoy blood, and I want him to have as good life as possible. So I leave you everything that is Malfoy, Virginia, and I hope you understand how much it takes for me to admit that I have no other choise. -Lucius Diabolo Malfoy"
I read the letter again and again, until I remember every word. Then I realize the tears streaming down my face. Finally I am able to cry. My child is the last hope of the Malfoy blood, and finally I'm able to cry.