August 15th 1997
I knock on the study door loudly and wait for him to call me in. I have half a mind to barge in the office anyway but not a second later his sharp voice calls out, "Come in."
Slowly pushing the dark-wooded mahogany door open I enter the study, he is sitting in front of his desk, as per usual a stack of yellowed parchments in front of him. He doesn't even look up as I enter.
I sneer at that. Some things never change.
"You wanted to see me?" I say tightly as I walk towards his crisp seated figure. I purposely don't address him correctly. If he only acts like my father when it pleases him, then I won't give him the title.
He nods slightly and only then looks at me. "Where were you last night?"
He words it like an innocent question from a concerned father, but I know better. When you have a Death Eater for a father you learn a few things very quickly.
I am almost temped to question him on where he was. Probably out murdering muggles like the awful man he is. Not that that conversation would go any better than our current car-crash of a conversation.
I frown at him; we were both out last night, which means if he knows where I was then he has his little minions following me again. Or has some weird tracking spell on me … not that I'd put it past him, but that's too much and I don't want to consider that possibility.
He's still staring at me with that same bored-stiff expression he always wears with me, and I feel my anger clawing at my stomach. "I am your father, Isabel, and I am asking you where you were?"
My father never asks for anything he demands it.
I narrow my eyes at that. So now he actually cares where I was? Scratch that. He's just being his usual control freak self. "Out" I scoff and this time I can't conceal my loathing.
His eyes flash dangerously in my direction and I know I am treading on fine ice. "I don't think I like your tone," he hisses at me easily rising to my bait.
Last night must not have gone well for him. Hopefully is 'Master' Cruicio'd him.
My father has always loathed the one-word replies; the ones I go out of my way to use when speaking to him because a day isn't complete in the Yaxley household without pissing my father off.
"I will not have my daughter parade around like some kind of harlot." He pauses, shaking his head in disgust. "You diminish the Yaxley name."
If at all possible my eyes narrow more. "I think I missed the part where I actually care about what you think," I bite out, perhaps against my better judgement. I tighten my hold on my handbag and swivel around and make to exit the room. I have somewhere to be.
I should have just left and ignored his summons.
As I reach the threshold of his door his cool voice filters out. "You will stop where you are." His tone is deathly quiet and I freeze where I am. Slowly I turn back around to face him.
I watch him as he pushes his parchments to the side and stands up. He is so much taller than me and right now I can tell he is beyond pissed off at me. Right now I have his full attention.
Crap.
With slow steps he walks towards me, his dark eyes fixated on my profile. He stops a handful of inches away from me.
"I am sick of your insolence, Isabel, but you will learn." He takes out his wand and whispers a spell I don't recognize. A blue light briefly flashes across his fireplace then vanishes just as quickly.
I look on apprehensively; I am starting to regret my little rebellious teen routine now.
"I've just shut down all the Floo networks in the Manor to you."
My eyes snap up at that – wide.
"You will not be leaving the Manor until you cease this childish act and learn to behave."
What the hell?!
"You can't do that!" I hiss at him, now angry. There are still two weeks left of the summer, for the love of Merlin! What does he expect me to do at home all day. Besides, my father knows exactly why I am - as he calls it - 'misbehaving.'
His anger is still there but he looks slightly amused at my words. "I think you'll find I can" he says as he leans his hands against his desk. "And I have."
Be calm. Be calm. Be calm.
"I'm supposed to be meeting someone," I explain once I'm sure I won't throw something at him. I add a forced smile trying to appeal to his better nature. Not that he even has one. I hate him.
"Who?" He asks, his eyes zoning in on me. I feel like a bloody deer caught in headlights.
I pause. "Daphne," I lie. Everyone likes Daphne, he wouldn't say no to me meeting her. It's not really a lie as I am supposed to be meeting her, just tomorrow evening.
He raises his eyebrows at that. "I know when you're lying, Isabel," he says. Damn, I mentally curse. The pause must have given it away. That's what you get, I suppose, for having a Death Eater as a father.
"Who are you meeting?" He asks again, this time demanding to be told the truth.
I sigh. I may as well just tell him. He'd probably find out sooner or later anyway. "I'm meeting Draco, okay." I finally say just wanting this interrogation to be over.
"Malfoy?" He replies, but it's more rhetorical. I can see the slight surprise on his face. It's not like he knows we are seeing each other, well it isn't really 'seeing each other.' We're not dating; we're more like friends with benefits if you know what I mean.
He actually likes Draco, well; most pureblood families do as he's akin to the Firebolt of pureblood guys - not that I even care about that sort of thing. I watch my father's face and I know he's going to relent, I knew it when I said the name Draco.
His eyes look up and down at my outfit before they narrow as they take in my skirt that is two inches shorter than respectable and my tight fitting satin top which hugs in all the right places not leaving much to the imagination. "Change." Is all he says as he sits back down. He dismisses me with a wave of his hand. "Then you can go see Malfoy."
I clench my jaw. I could argue with him, but that rarely ever ends up looking good for me. Alternatively, I can actually take this chance, this way I can see Draco and may even manage to wriggle my way out of this so called banishment to the house he expects me to follow.
I choose the latter. "Okay," I tell him, my anger hidden in my now steady voice. I know that if I start my bitchy act again he'll just completely annihilate me having any form of human interaction until I return to Hogwart's.
I roll my eyes once I turn around and walk out his office to my own bedroom.
The bright blue azure balls are immediately calming wrapping around me like a blanket of serenity – this room is like a refuge for me. I've spent hours and hours in this room, one of the few places in Yaxley Manor that truly feels like my own space. Well, it is my bedroom, so it does make sense.
Closing the bedroom door behind me, I stalk into the room, dropping my purse on my dressing table.
I walk into my closet and grab a pair of tight fitting black jeans and a strappy emerald top. This should meet my father's standards. If he demands I cover up and more I swear before you know it he'll be making me become a freaking nun.
X
I stand in the fireplace with my fist full of the annoyingly itchy and powdery floo powder and yell "Malfoy Manor" as I throw it at my feet and disappear in a blaze of emerald green flames.
I'm glad to be out of Yaxley Manor. Through most of the summer I've been alone as Father has been busy ruining the magical world with his Master and band of horrible cronies – Death Eaters.
I've enjoyed the solace. In some ways it's allowed me to block out all the terrible goings on. The daily slaughter of muggle villages, kidnappings, prominent Ministry of Magic employees going missing ... Last time I'd read the Daily Prophet, Amelia Bones had been murdered in her London home.
I shudder at the memory. Amelia Bones was a very prominent witch, if the Death Eater's were brazen enough to go after her so soon, how long before all like her were removed?
Susan Bones would also be entering her seventh year at Hogwart's this year, but would she even be returning? It would be safer for her if she didn't. Hogwarts would not be safe without Albus Dumbledore. Death Eaters were responsible for that, more specifically Professor Snape... and Draco has been there too...No... he didn't really hurt anyone though.
Draco had it worse that anyone being a Malfoy. There were certain things expected of him, but Draco could never really murder anyone. No. In all the years they'd been friends at worst he could be mean, sarcastic, obnoxious but never evil, never cruel, never a killer.
I sigh heavily, Albus Dumbledore, had only been dead for only a few weeks now and look at the escalation.
I pull myself out of my dark thoughts and walk across the ornate plush carpeting through a long hallway, the patterns are geometric in design and ooze wealth. I follow the hallway around a bend which leads to Draco's room. I don't bother knocking as I push the dark wooden door open to find him at his desk writing what appear to be a letter.
His head snaps to the door as I step inside the room. "Isabel" he smiles genuinely as he stands. "What a pleasant surprise," he says almost suggestively a thin silver-blonde eyebrow raised as he walks towards me.
I roll my eyes and sit at the edge of his large kingsize bed, sinking into the beautifully smooth satin fabric. I throw a circular cushion at him, tilting my head in his direction as I do so. "You invited me, idiot."
He easily catches the cushion his Quidditch reflexes automatically snapping into action without so much as a thought. I kick off my heels and sit back on his bed and take a second to fully appreciate him. Draco Malfoy is one hell of a good looking guy. He's tall as he leans against his dark-green wall, his pale-blonde hair is tousled slightly like he was napping not too long ago, his silver eyes are sharp the mercury pits fixed on me with light amusement dancing in them. He's wearing a Falmouth Falcon's T-shirt which fits perfectly showing off his alabaster smooth skin and tight muscles. He's been working out I note appreciatively. His black joggers are loose and I can tell he probably hadn't left Malfoy Manor all day.
"Quit staring," he jokes after I spend a minute too long gazing at him. "Or I give you a picture?" He adds sarcastically, rolling his eyes as I lightly blush.
I give him a mock annoyed look. "Well, stop being so damn pretty then ..."
He laughs loud at that and I find I like the sound. He rarely laughs like this so openly but I find myself smiling too.
He moves towards me and in an instant he is on the bed and with strong arms pulls me into his lap. "Nowhere near as pretty as you, Kitten," he whispers against my head as his fingers gently trace my chin, tilting my face towards his.
I shift sitting side-ways in his lap and take in his warm scent. He always smells so good, so fresh and clean but also a subtle hint of cinnamon and vanilla. I relax into his muscular chest as he smoothes my dark raven hair over my shoulder and pulls me into a kiss. I respond immediately, opening my mouth to his as his soft lips meet mine and for a moment I am in heaven.
I move again so that now I am straddling him and deepen the kiss, his tongue meets mine as the kiss becomes more passionate. I hear Draco growl in pleasure as his hands rest on my waist, steadying me and pulling me closer to him.
My hands reach down and I go to pull off his Falmouth Falcon's shirt. We pull apart for a moments as I get it over his head and toss it over my shoulder somewhere on the floor. Draco moves to resume the kiss, his hands now playing with the emerald straps of my top which he quickly pulls down sliding my top down exposing the top of my breasts. I shiver as the cold air hits the exposed flesh.
His deft fingers dip beneath the fabric of my thin bra and begin to massage my breast while the other hand works to unhook my bra. He squeezes my breast again and I feel a tingle go through my body as his attentions move to my hardening nipple which he pinches.
I moan and move to continue the kiss but I freeze when my eyes meet his chest. There are two bright-red angry scars running across his lower stomach and abdomen, in a jagged crisscrossed pattern. They look deep and painful and worryingly fresh. I can see the cuts have barely began to scab over.
I gasp in shock and move back and when Draco tries to kiss me again I turn my head to stop him.
I point at his scars. "What the hell happened, Draco?" I whisper pulling my top back up.
His own eyes dip down to where mine are looking and a dark look flashes across his face for a second before it disappears. "Oh, that... it's nothing," he says calmly as he turns away from me and looks for his discarded shirt, the mood of our previous make-out session now gone.
What tosh!
My dark blue eyes snap to his silver ones, not for a second believing his bullshit. "Let me heal them... you know I'm pretty good with healing charms," I offer not wanting to press him on something he clearly doesn't want to discuss.
He turns back to me, and runs a hand through his blonde tufts. "Thank you, for offering...but I would've healed them myself if.." the dark look passes his face again, "if they could be healed."
What is that supposed to mean? Magic can regrow bones... what sort of scar could magic not heal?
I frown at his words. He notices my look and answers my confusion, his face now quite impassive.
"They are from a cursed blade, Isabel. They cannot be healed with magic...no," he sighs again. "They can only heal over time." He's found his shirt now and has pulled it back on covering the ugly scars. "If they can even heal at all," he adds quietly almost imperceptibly.
For a moment, I stare blankly at the spot on his shirt where I know the scars are hidden beneath. My Father was out last night on Death Eater business. I know Draco has the mark too, of course it would make sense if Draco was out last night on a raid too.
What the bloody hell happened?
"What happened, Draco?" I ask again, quietly this time.
"Izzy, honestly... you wouldn't want to know." He gives me an uneasy smile as he walks over to me, taking my hands in his. His fingers are cold against my warm ones as he rubs his thumb in a circular soothing motion on my palm. "It's better if you don't know certain things... hell I wish I didn't know certain things."
We take a seat at the corner window seat and I briefly glance outside at the darkened sky which stands proudly over the massive stately gardens of Malfoy Manor. I see the huge willows in the far distance and a lake beyond the many hills. "Was my Father there?" I ask, more to confirm what I already know.
Draco follows my gaze outside, his silver eyes empty. "You know the answer to that. All the Dark Lord's inner circle were present."
I nod lightly as I turn to face him and this time we are so close that I can clearly see the dark circles under his eyes. The worry lines on his forehead.
He hasn't been sleeping.
Again.
He'd been the same the previous year at Hogwart's. A complete mess. Not sleeping at night, agitated, his mind always somewhere else. I'd only found out why when it was too late... not that there was anything I could really have done to help.
"You haven't been sleeping," I say pointedly.
"Nothing a few Glamour Charms can't cover up..." he says distractedly as he runs another hand through his lopsided locks.
"Draco," I give him a fierce look. "This is me, you can talk to me."
His cool silver eyes lock on mine and there is a sliver of warmth. "I know" he says finally, "but not about this" he adds looking me dead in the face.
He takes my clenched fist and lays a gently kiss on my knuckles.
"Have you got your Hogwarts letter yet?" He asks changing the subject, his hot breath still against my knuckles.
I pause. "No," I say slowly. I hadn't received one yet but should have by now. "Not that I've seen anyway..." I add. I suspect my Father has been intercepting all my mail. It would make sense for the control freak to open things not addressed to him.
What other owls had I not received? I only received one letter at the beginning of summer...
Bloody fucking Alden Yaxley.
"Things at Hogwarts are going to be different this year," he starts. "Snape is going to be Headmaster," he says simply.
My eyes go wide at that. Snape. The man who murdered Albus Dumbledore coming to replace him.
"The Carrow's - Alecto and Amycus- will be teaching too. All Pureblood's and Half-blood's will find it mandatory for them to attend... mudbloods are being rounded up as we speak."
I close my eyes at that. I had heard about that, the Muggle-Born Registration Act, is what they called it. A ridiculous, foul and evil law. But one I could not speak out against without dire repercussions. I know my Father has been helped with the Act.
He pauses caught in his reverie for a second. He makes sure he is facing me now and places his hands on my shoulders sweeping a stray dark tendril out of my face."There is something else you should know" he says slowly as I shift closer to him. He starts to play with my straps again, another hand running up the nape of my neck. "The Dark Lord will be enacting a Marriage Act... all Pureblood witches who are of age and unmarried will be betrothed to an unmarried Pureblood wizard of the Ministry's choosing. There will be one month within which the marriages must take place. Blood-betrothal contracts already agreed prior to all of this will be honoured but the marriages must still take place in the same time period. There will be other clauses too-"
My mouth goes wide, suddenly my throat is very, very dry.
"They can't do that... " I whisper, "they can't force us-" I stop. Speechless. How could they even be considering this?
I want to cry. Marriage... I am only seventeen, I'm too young to get married. I don't want to think about this.
"It will be announced within the next two weeks. Those who already know have been secretly working on securing betrothal contracts for any Pureblood witches in their family."
I furrow my brow at that... betrothal contracts? They were pretty standard among the older Pureblood families I suppose those in the Dark Lord's inner circle would want to ensure they had a marriage amenable to them ... who knows what method would be used to select spouses.
Suddenly a thought occurs to me. "So that means your also getting married then...right...your Father drew up a contract with the Parkinson's years ago for Pansy?" I ask curiously, remembering what he told me years before.
Draco actually smirks at this like he was pleased about something. "Well, no...there was a clause in that contract which stated that she must remain untouched before we wed," he raises an eyebrow."You know Pansy has slept with half of Slytherin House. That contract is long broken, thank Merlin."
"So what about Pansy?" I ask... if his law in enacted then she will still have to marry and if she isn't betrothed already then it could be anyone she ends up with. There were still plenty of Purebloods who would be undesirable to the Parkinson family that she could be matched with.
"I hear Marcus Flint is interested as are the Crabbe's." I bite my lip to stop from laughing at that. Pansy Parkinson has never been someone I liked or even really got on with. But having to share a dormitory with her for six years meant I've put up with more than enough of her crap. All those times she'd suck back into the room late at night after another tryst with Montague, Pucey or Flint.
Mrs Pansy Crabbe...I start laughing again at the thought.
Draco joins me and laughs too the mirth dancing in his eyes. He's never really been attracted to Pansy, they dated briefly at his Father's insistence but she was always too clingy and obsessive.
"Well what about you?" I ask him finally.
"The law is only for witches, so unless I decide to do one of them a favour I don't have to get married this year." He drawls in that haughty way only a Malfoy can.
"Your the most eligible bachelor," I say incredulously. "I mean you come from one of the most ancient Pureblood families - two if you count your Black heritage - and just look at you! Your bloody beautiful, your richer than anyone should be...I'm sure everyone is trying to snag you to maintain their holier than thou blood sanctity."
He quirks an eyebrow at me. "Bloody beautiful... I didn't know you thought so much of me," he teases. I glower and slap his arm lightly before he continues.
"You are right though. Many are interested. In fact my Father has had owls from the Bulstrode family, Greengrass family, Parkinson family, Patil family, McGregor family, Carrow family... and a dozen others in the last 2 weeks..." he stops this time until his breath in hot against my ear, "and one from Alden Yaxley."
I freeze.
"My Father, sent a betrothal contract to Lucius Malfoy?"
"Yes," Draco says nonchalantly like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I don't really know what to say about that... I guess it explains why he was so keen for me and Draco to hang out. But Draco doesn't love me... not in that way anyway and I'm not in love with him either. He's my best-friend, but marriage that is something else.
I can't think about this.
"Doesn't it usually work the other way" I question finding it unusual for the females side to be requesting a betrothal, custom dictated a male should approach first.
He pauses for a second before realizing what I mean. "Typically, yes. Many Pureblood wizards have been sending contracts out too, otherwise all the good ones will go," he drawls in that smooth voice of his.
"Your Father mentioned he had several for you already," he says carefully, watching my reaction closely.
I blanch at that. Several. What was that three? Four? Five?
Who the hell had sent them?
Images quickly flicked through my mind of last years Yule ball and the lecherous wizards at my Fathers party. I could not bear to end up with someone like Rabastan Lestrange. I shudder.
Or Antonin Dolohov.
My blood curdles as I remember his beady eyes undressing me while I danced. No, I could no bear to end up with a vile man like that. But those men were favoured among the Dark Lord, who knows what privileges would be given in this barbaric move to trade off Pureblood witches as brood mares.
"I'm scared, Draco," I whisper softly against his chin. "I don't want to end up with one of them."
Draco bows his head slightly, understanding what I mean without having to explain what I mean by 'them.' He drapes an arm around my back in a comforting gesture.
"You have nothing to be scared of. Your Father is Alden Yaxley, Head of Magical Law and Enforcement and you have me. You are protected, Isabel. I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
"My Father would love for me to marry you," I say with a shake of my head.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," he says immediately, and I sense he is almost hurt by my less than enthused attitude at the sentiment.
"You don't love me Draco-"
He cuts me off. "Are you going to really try and tell me how I feel," he responds with narrowed eyes and I can tell he is starting to get worked up.
"No, of course not... but we both know its true. We are best friends... who are occasionally a bit more than friends but friends first and foremost. Don't you want to fall in love?" I ask him honestly. "This Marriage Act," I spit the words out like some taboo curse, "will take that chance away."
I stand up, almost immediately missing the feel of his body against mine. "I need to talk to my Father, I cannot believe he didn't tell me a thing about this."
The bastard.
I smooth down the front of my jeans and straighten the straps of my slightly creased ivy-coloured top and walk to pick up my clutch.
Draco nods slowly in understanding. "You should talk to him. Blood-betrothal contracts can be tricky to work out and there is not much time left to get one."
He walks to where I am now standing by his door and we fall into step walking towards the Floo grate. Once there we come to a halt.
I give Draco a hug, my arms wrapping around him gently and give him a light kiss on the cheek. "Get some sleep, Draco...I'll mix you some Dreamless Sleeping Draught for when I see you next."
He whispers a mumbled thanks against my hair as I grab a handful of Floo powder. Before I disappear his eyes meet mine again. "Just remember what I said Isabel, we could be great together."
Author: So what did you think? This is my first fic on here... Was the chapter too long? Did you like Isabel? Should she marry Draco?
Please read and review!