Chapter Three
What I assumed was about twenty-four hours later; Draco entered my room after knocking cautiously. He perched himself uncomfortably on the edge of my bed that was so large that I was still at least four feet away from him.
"I figured if we have to consummate this within the week that we should start with the basics and work up, as to not have it all hit us at once." Draco sat stiffly, staring at the barren walls that he suddenly found to be fascinating.
"And how would we go about working into it slowly?" I queried nervously.
"Well, tonight, we could go out and have dinner together, do some talking, that sort of thing," he suggested.
"What's with your sudden change?" I asked him curiously. "I thought you hated me and wanted to spend as little time as possible with me."
"Well, fact is, Granger, that spending only a little time with you isn't really an option. You're stuck here until further notice, and obviously my sadistic father is going to force us into this sexual thing, whether we like it or not. I just assumed it would be easier if we made it more than us having torturous sex once a week without ever speaking to each other for the rest of our lives. Or at least the rest of his life," he muttered quickly enough that I had to take an extra minute or two after he was done to really comprehend what had been said.
"You want to take me to dinner?" was all I could manage to reply with.
"Well, technically, we can't leave the manor for dinner, but I can take you out of this room and down to our dining room," Draco said, smirking. "We have one of the finest chefs in the magical world."
"Lovely," I snapped, suddenly angry at how he was so arrogant. Everything was so damned easy for Draco-fucking-Malfoy and here I was, doomed to be his personal sex toy for the rest of Lucius' life.
"I shall come to take you to dinner in one hour's time. I suggest," he said, glancing at my body, his eyes lingering in a way that made me extremely uncomfortable. "That you get on some more elegant clothes." With that, he got up and walked with a fluid grace out of the room. I fell back onto the pillows and covered my face with my hands. He was just such an aggravating person. Get on some more elegant clothes, he says. So now I have to dress up for him?
As I thought about this, I headed to the bathroom. Glancing in one of the marble-framed mirrors, I decided my hair could use a little work. I wasn't worried about impressing Malfoy, but I didn't want to look like I just climbed out of a ditch on the side of the road. I spent a good fifteen minutes forcing a comb through my hair, trying to ignore the obvious fact that the comb was made of unicorn horn. I found a large stash of various beauty products in the cabinet and examined them. They all seemed to come from the same place, which was a small beauty shop I'd passed a few times in Diagon Alley. I'd never entered the store, never having had any interest in makeup and hairspray.
Now, I rummaged through the bottles and tubes and found one that looked promising. It claimed to make any type of hair pin-straight and perfect when three drops were combed through the hair. I followed the instructions and, sure enough, my usually poofy mane of hair was tamed, now smooth and shiny. I then found a small jar of white cream that said if you applied it all over the face, you would end up with the perfect makeup for your coloring and face shape. I used this too and found that it had indeed worked exactly the way it said it would. I had only worn makeup a few times before this, but I knew this was excellently done. My eyes were done up dramatically with dark, curled lashes, my lips were a neutral pink but very sparkly and my cheeks had a light flush to them.
In the wardrobe were six dresses that hadn't been there when I had pulled the jeans and t-shirt I was now wearing out of it this morning. They were various colors, blood red, sapphire blue, glittery silver, jet black, champagne pink, and wedding-day white. Flinching at the combined thoughts of a wedding and Malfoy, I pushed the white one to the side and it promptly disappeared. I pushed away the red and pink as well, knowing those colors made me appear to be perpetually sun burnt. Finally deciding that I couldn't decide between the silver, black and blue based upon color, I pulled them out of the wardrobe to look at the style of the dresses. The blue had thin straps over the shoulders and laced up the back in a crisscross pattern and was long enough to reach the floor. The silver dress was short and strapless and was raining glitter all over the bathroom. The last one, the black one, had a corset-like bodice and a full skirt that was complete with a petticoat. This dress screamed medieval mourning dress, and mourning seemed to fit perfectly. I placed the blue and silver dresses back onto the rack and they too vanished.
As I finished lacing up the dress, I suddenly wondered why I was doing all of this for Draco Malfoy. I had been irritated when he told me I should dress nicely, but here I was, going above and beyond with fancy hair and makeup products. Suddenly, it hit me. As far as I could tell, I was going to be forced to have sex with him, whether I liked it or not. With a jolt I had realized that I wanted him to find me attractive. I mean, if I HAVE to do it with him, I don't want him to be repulsed and cringe at the sight of me when it happens.
So I'm putting on makeup and doing my hair and stressing over dress colors, something I've never really done before, to make Malfoy think I'm pretty when he decided to coerce me into sexual relations with him. What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn't be doing anything to make him think I'm attractive! I should be focusing on how to get out of this hellhole and avoid having sex with him all together. A small part of me, the part that always made me feel like I never belonged in Gryffindor, didn't want to get out of here. In Malfoy's house, I was almost completely safe, except for the sex part. No fighting, no death eaters throwing spells at me, no watching the people I loved die in battle, it was nice to be sheltered from it. I pushed those cowardly thoughts away, reprimanding myself for thinking so selfishly. I should be out there helping them! I can only imagine how worried Ron and Harry are about me. Oh, if only I could write them a letter…
Or maybe, I could write to them. Maybe if I did everything Malfoy asked without complaint and went along with all his little ideas, maybe he would let me send them a letter telling them I'm still alive. Having a new motivation to look and be perfect to please Draco, I examined myself in the mirror meticulously and used the various bathroom supplies I found to fix each and every flaw I discovered. After I felt perfect, I exited the bathroom. Right as I had sat down on the bed, there was a knock at the door. I got up again and opened it to find, to no one's surprise, Draco Malfoy standing there. He was wearing a dark suit but no tie and his face was perfectly composed. At least, it was until he got the chance to look me over in the light coming through the doorway from his room.
"You look… er… I mean… come on then," he said, seemingly a little flustered. I gave him a bright smile and followed him obediently out of my bedroom and through his. As he led me through dark corridors, up and down stairs, and around various rooms, I was tempted to ask him about every thing I saw. His house was so grand and so confusing; I didn't know what to look at first as we journeyed to the dining room. I knew, however, that bothering him with questions would not put me on his good side. After having been walking through his mansion for at least five minutes, he finally led me through a set of large glass doors and out into an elegant courtyard. There were many fountains circled around the perimeter of the flagstone patio, and a small circular table in the direct center. Draco led me to this table and pulled out my chair for me before sitting down.
"I thought we were eating in the dining room," I said, glancing around at all the trees and flowers and fountains that surrounded us.
"That was the original plan, but I decided this would feel a little less stiff and proper," he replied. "Hence why I didn't wear a tie, you know, to help with relaxation."
"Well you could have told me that before I tied myself into this corset," I replied, motioning to all the laces wrapped around my torso.
"But it looks nice on you," he muttered, his eyes not moving from my chest.
"Eyes up here, buddy," I said, my goody-two-shoes personality fading back into irritation. He shook his head like a puppy trying to rid water from his ears and looked back up at my face. I crossed my arms and glowered at him.
"Sorry, the dress flatters you though, would you prefer if I wasn't being polite and complimenting you?" he asked, giving me an innocent look.
"I would prefer if you kept your eyes focused above my neck and not at my chest," I answered, a sour tone creeping into my voice as I spoke.
"Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist," he grumbled, leaning back in his chair and looking anywhere but at me. I sighed. This was going to be a long night.