EEP! Oh goodness, apparently I had mis-uploaded Chapter 14 as Chapter 10. D: Thank you to marksmom for pointing this out to me! If you would, please go back and read the correct Chapter 10, as I've just replaced it! Thank you, and sorry! ^^;

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Part Fourteen:

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At twenty-three, Draco Lucius Malfoy first learned about Denial.

Closed in his study, he finally felt free to loosen his collar and relax. It had been a trying evening, to say the least. The awards dinner he had been set to hosting had been planned for months, and until that night he had been anticipating it. What made it almost unbearable was the argument that he'd had with Astoria the night before, after which he had finally just retired to his own chambers, and the morning after had been deathly silent. During the dinner they had needed to put on their masks and play the act of the happy couple, despite the fact that each of them avoided the other as much as possible.

As soon as the guests had left, Astoria had stridden off without a word. Draco had winced when he heard the door to her personal chambers slam shut.

After finally convincing himself that it would be better to relax with a glass of brandy than to drink himself into a stupor with firewhiskey, he slumped onto his desk. Reaching out, he tentatively brushed his fingers against Penha's spine, wondering if the book had any advice for him. He was fairly certain that an expensive gift wouldn't end the argument this time, even if he had felt that he was at all in the wrong.

Penha fluttered awake, taking in Draco's posture and the glass that rested nearby. "Did the dinner somehow not go smoothly?" he queried.

"More like Astoria and I had to play nice and not bite each other's heads off all throughout. Otherwise it went swimmingly," Draco muttered against the desk.

He heard the book sigh, but was surprised when Penha didn't inquire as to what the fight was about like he usually did. "Have you ever thought about why you fight so much?" he asked instead.

Draco sighed, scrubbing at his face. "Sometimes I wonder. Sometimes everything seems to be going just fine, but then out of nowhere we snap at one another. I'll admit that I start it sometimes, but she really does initiate it more often. I just don't understand…" he trailed off helplessly, letting his guard down for his old friend.

"What are the things she starts it over? What usually occurs before a fight?"

"Nothing! That's just the thing – if they had a common thread, then maybe I could fix it! Or we could talk about it. Or…something. Anything. The only time she repeats anything is when she's done nattering about whatever that particular fight had been about."

"And what do those things entail?" Penha pried.

"Sex!" Draco expelled explosively, throwing up his arms. "I would never have thought that a woman that shy would be so bloody pushy in bed! I just don't understand it!" he ranted.

"Oh?" Penha prodded quietly, egging the rant on.

"Yes! It's not like I don't please her. Pardon me for being crude a moment, but she most certainly gets off every time – more than once, usually, lucky thing." Draco snorted. He was sure that he would certainly be happier if he could get off more than once in a row; perhaps she was just spoiled. Hell, sometimes he found it difficult to get off at all. "She's constantly bringing up how I neglect her breasts, but when I try to pay more attention she complains about how awkward it is. And then she expects me to engage in certain acts that I have no interest in doing beyond the first time I tried them, like…cunnilingus." Draco could feel his cheeks heat as he almost muttered the last word. His lack of prior experience had meant a bit of a dearth of experience in talking about such matters as well. Penha was an exception, being essentially male and knowing Draco well enough to dispel much of his awkwardness on the subject.

"I tried it once. It tastes disgusting. And it's kind of…slimy." He pulled a face, almost gagging in revulsion. "And really, it's not like I expect her to do the same for me if she doesn't want to – not to mention she has a bit too little respect for the goods. Sometimes I swear she must be a badger animagus from the way her teeth drag on occasion." Draco shuddered, remembering a few too many altercations that her teeth had encountered with his…bits.

"So she is unsatisfied with your attentions to her female…parts," Penha surmised. Draco scowled at him, somehow feeling that Penha was taking the piss a bit at his embarrassment.

"Yes, I suppose so," he replied stiltedly. "There's also the fact that the woman is a like a rabbit in heat. I mean…there are nights I would like to simply go to sleep. I work hard with the charity, as well as the businesses that Father is teaching me how to run. And then there's my studies concerning the Potions apprenticeship that she encouraged me to pick up. Most nights I just want to fall in bed and go unconscious.

"But her? No, of course not. No sooner do I slip out of my shirt before she accosts me. I acquiesce to her demands most of the time, but sometimes I just can't bring myself to care enough." He heaved a tired sigh, mussing his hair as he dragged a hand through it.

"Care enough? About…having sex with her?" Penha ventured.

"Yes," Draco replied, groaning at the thought of the infuriating woman.

"Have you ever given thought to that? Most young men your age are known for their lustiness and insatiability. Have you ever wondered why she can't rouse that in you?" Penha prodded gently. Draco shot him a look. If he hadn't know the book so well he would have thought that to be a simple question; his friend's usual methods made him believe that the question was slightly more loaded.

He hesitated, swirling the liquid in his glass as he mulled over the words. "Not really, to be honest. I do become…aroused, and fair frequently. Usually it's just less of a hassle to relieve it myself in the shower," he admitted, his face heating again. "Maybe spending those years that I would have been at my absolute randiest instead being scared out of my wits has dampened my tendencies a bit. I don't know!" He threw up his arms in exasperation.

"And yet you never seek out the woman you share a bed with, even when it wouldn't be a 'hassle,' as you put it," Penha lead on.

Draco hesitated again, his brow furrowing as he thought. "No, not particularly," he said haltingly.

What was Penha trying to get at? Was there something wrong with Draco? The book had mostly given up pestering him about the whole 'love before marriage' thing, so Draco was pretty certain this wasn't one of those lectures.

"Has any woman ever inspired you to such amorous pursuits?" Penha asked gently.

"You know I was a virgin before her," Draco replied instantly, then realized the leading tone his friend had used. He usually used that tone when he wanted Draco to think a bit harder about a situation. Reluctantly, he did.

It was true, no girl or woman had ever really engendered much sexual interest on his part. Other than his mother and Pansy, he rather disliked associating with them on the whole. He had practically fled from the attentions of several girls while in school, hiding behind Pansy and their rumor-based relationship or firmly ensconcing himself in the company of his male friends to keep the less predatory girls at bay. He was indeed rather attractive, but despite all the interest that had been paid to him he had always just felt…nothing.

He'd never been attracted to them.

His mother and Pansy had been the only women he had chosen to willingly associate with for any lengthy amount of time for as far back as he could remember. Despite the obvious reasons for his adoration, he also saw a strength, resilience, and no-nonsense-ness in his mother that made him respect her all the more. While she was always caring, she could be stern in her own way, like when she had punished him as a child. Pansy, on the other hand, had been like a bull in a china shop. Her wicked words and pushy demeanor had caused even a handful of the other Slytherin girls to cry – Hufflepuffs were easy, Ravenclaws less so, Gryffindors were a challenge, but Slytherins were almost impossible. Her take-it-or-leave-me-be attitude and thick skin had earned her a place amidst the Slytherin boys even before they had all come to Hogwarts. Despite her girlish appearance, she had always been much more at home amid the guys. Draco had cherished her almost like a sibling.

But if he wasn't attracted to women, then… "Maybe I'm just one of those people who aren't interested in other people on a sexual level." It had sounded sturdier in his mind, but he wasn't backing away from it. "It is moderately unfair to my wife, perhaps, but I will just have to try a bit harder to comply with her demands. I should do my duty to her, despite my disinterest," he stated flatly, emotionlessly. He was afraid of how much flimsier it would come out if he didn't strive for such a tone.

Penha, unfortunately, missed his tone and the muted panic he felt underneath it. "Or it could mean that–"

"Shut up, Penha. SHUT UP!" he yelled, finally breaking the point of his control.

The book jumped slightly, clearly startled by the outburst. "But Draco, I'm just trying to–"

"No! I have had enough of this!" Draco snarled out harshly. "What, you couldn't undermine my unloving marriage enough to make me cancel it that way, so you thought you'd try another tactic?"

"No! I just–"

"You 'just'! Fuck you! I have hung on your every word for years – almost two decades – and now you try to make me insecure! Why? Because I didn't take your advice for once in my bloody life? Because I did something you didn't agree with, but that I knew was right?"

"No – child – just calm d–!"

"Don't 'child' me!" Draco roared.

"I am not working against you!" Penha roared right back. Draco quieted for a moment, startled by the normally gentle book's ferocity. "If you would get your head out of your arse, you might actually see for yourself the reason that you are so unhappy! It is your own foolishness that debilitates you, and this farce of a marriage–!"

In a fit of rage, Draco grabbed for the book. Hurling it as hard as he could, he was gratified for a moment as it squarely shot into his intended target: the hearth. "FUCK YOU!" With one last wordless snarl, Draco stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Shortly afterward, the door to Astoria's chambers could be heard slammed as Draco went to his wife.

.o0O0o.

It was two hours later that Draco came rushing back into the study. His clothes were rumpled and his lips swollen, but instead of a healthy flush and post-coital glow, his skin was ashen and tinged green.

"Penha?" he cried, dashing straight to the fireplace. Tears pooled in his eyes and poured down his cheeks as he saw what remained of the charred book. His throat closed up and his lungs refused air at the sight. Unthinking, he tried futilely to snatch it back out of the greedy flames. After burning both of his hands, it finally occurred to him to use his wand, levitating the blackened mass out and extinguishing it.

"Penha? Please, oh Merlin, oh gods. Please, Penha. Please tell me you aren't gone. Oh…oh gods, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry…" He curled up around the remains of the book, cradling it close to his chest as he cried. "Please, I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you. I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot; I'm sorry!"

He kept up a constant mantra of fervent pleas and desolate wails for what seemed like ages. When his eyes felt like there was nothing more to wring out of them, he sniffed harshly and looked down at his bundle.

He began to sob all over again as he saw the edges of yellow-white that had begun to extend from the blackened mass. He sat there the rest of the night, whispering apologies and sending as much belief as he could muster along the faint link he still felt.

.o0O0o.

Three days passed before Penha was finally whole again. Draco had been forced to leave his vigil and go through the motions of his days as much as necessary, but he had returned at every moment he could to check on the book.

After the second day, Draco knew that Penha was ignoring him. The book had begun vibrating angrily every time he tried to touch it. His mantra of apologies would start back up then, continuing until he was either called away or he didn't know what else he could say.

He could feel the silent treatment that Eshe was giving him from where she lay on a table across the room. He hadn't even attempted to find consolation in her. She wasn't very good at it on the best of days, and Draco figured she was probably more than furious with him for attempting to burn her soulmate…mindmate…bookmate…thing.

Finally, Penha had just lain silent when Draco tentatively reached out to stroke his cover. Draco had taken the book and curled up in his favorite chair, cuddling the book tightly and facing away from the fire. Carefully, he began to pick at what he and Penha had been discussing before his outburst. Or, rather, that Penha had tried to gently goad him into discussing before Draco had gone temporarily insane.

It was an uncomfortable thought to entertain. He managed to get far enough to think that it could be a possibility, but then he firmly buried it in his mind. Regardless of such, this was his life. He had married Astoria – not out of love, no, but out of duty. He would have his children – or child – by her, and then perhaps he might be able to think of the possibilities.

Draco had never been known for his patience, so after a few hours of deafening silence he finally gave in and began his pleading again. "Please? You're my best friend," was the wretched, wavering entreaty.

After a couple of seconds, the book's pages flared out and relaxed as Penha gave a weary sigh. "Should I even get into the issues of your best friend being a quasi-inanimate object, or that you threw him into a fire?" came the tired response.

"…No," Draco replied in a quiet, contrite tone.

"Alright," was the kind rejoinder, tinged with sadness.

Draco sighed in relief, sagging as much of his tenseness deserted him. "I am so sorry, Penha. I truly am."

"I know, child. And I will forgive you in a bit. I am still quite upset at this moment, though." Draco nodded, knowing that he deserved much harsher and feeling all the more grateful for the compassionate book's friendship.

"I understand."

After a moment, Penha softly nudged him with one of his covers. "Have you given any thought to our discussion?" Draco gave the barest hint of a nod. "And?"

Draco sighed wearily. "This is my bed, Penha. I've made it, now I must lie in it."

"But what to you want, child?" Penha pressed, trying to see that he'd gotten through.

Draco felt the small flicker of awareness at the back of his mind, but quickly smothered it. "I want to be a father," he said quietly.

Penha sighed, tipping to rest against his charge. "I see."