LADY MALFOY
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything related belongs to J. K. Rowling. And the places I mention, in the story do not belong to me.
Author's note: I would like to thank La baguette for not only beta-ing this chapter but also helping me with some of the information with regard to the 19th century.
Thank you so very much for your awesome reviews, guys!!!
Oops, I did it again! I got carried away with the chapter and it turned out to have over 20000 words, so I have split it into two and will be posting it one after another. It is a good thing for your guys who don't want to see Harriet suffering because the first half has lot of fluff in it. Also, I want to start the New Year with the happy note as you can see through the chapter's name itself.
Warnings: Alternate Universe, NON-MAGIC. Harry is a female. You will find swear words but quite seldom. Pinch of fluff. I will add further warnings as story progresses.
Chapter 21: First Wedding Anniversary
Early Morning of 24th October.
Stirring from a deep slumber, Harriet continued to lie on the warm and luxurious mattress, blankly staring at the blue canopy and contentedly listening to the steady breathing of the person beside her. Several moments later, Harriet turned her head sideways and smiled lazily at her rumpled husband before forcing her body to slide from under the covers and out of the bed. Pushing the curtain a slit aside from the closed glass window, Harriet took a glimpse of the weather and reckoned that it was going to be one of those agonisingly slow days when things progressed at the speed of a snail and despite freshening up, Harriet could not completely erase the dullness in her mind. Heaving out a deep sigh, Harriet rang the bell to summon her personal maid, Nola and opened the door that led directly to her dressing room.
Five minutes later, Nola entered the room carrying a bunch of fresh, lovely red roses in her arms. "Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Malfoy," the maid greeted her with a curtsy.
Harriet started at that but regained her composure before Nola who had immediately busied herself with arranging the flowers in a vase, could notice the utter surprise on her face.
"Thank you, Nola," Harriet finally managed to get out with a vague smile but internally, 'What a terrible wife I must be to not even remember the anniversary of our wedding,' Harriet thought with morose and self-disgust. But now that she has been reminded, Harriet did not know whether to be happy that Draco and she had 'almost' successfully completed a year of their marriage or sad that one was being subtracted from the numbers of years they had agreed to stay together before getting separated.
Fortunately for Harriet, though, Nola just took in her expression but not the uncertainty that belied it. "Would you wish for me to arrange for a bath, Mrs. Malfoy?" the middle-aged maid enquired after finishing her task.
Snapping out of her conflicting and disturbing thoughts, Harriet furrowed her brows at her. Usually, Harriet took a bath on alternate days; she had taken one just yesterday but then why would Nola ask such a question? It took a minute for Harriet's whirling mind to comprehend the simplest meaning that Nola was assuming that her Mistress would want to prepare herself especially well for the occasion.
"Yes," Harriet agreed at last.
Dropping a curtsy, Nola exited the room to see to the bathing arrangements, leaving Harriet to her pensiveness.
Freshly bathed and dressing in an off-white cotton gown that was adorned with patterned lace, Harriet settled herself in the sitting room of the Master Suite, waiting for her husband to wake up. She presumed that the inhabitants of the Manor would be expecting them to make an entry together this morning.
Staring at the word 'romance' in the book lying open on her lap, Harriet could not help her mind from straying towards the significance of this day in her life. 'A year into the marriage, yet I am…,' Harriet quickly snapped her book shut and promptly set it aside before she could finish that line of thought. Feeling unsettled, Harriet swiftly rose and wandered towards the window to distract herself from such unwanted thoughts.
The distant and blurred (due to the morning fog) sight of her garden carpeted by lush green of the tender, new plants brought a small but genuine smile on Harriet's face. The harvesting that kept her occupied over the last few weeks was also the reason why she had not remembered the importance of this day. Returning from Newbiggin, Harriet had been pleasantly surprised by the growth spurt that the vegetation in the new garden seems to have gone through in her absence. Since most of the radish and spinach plants were ready for harvest, Harriet decided that the first of October would be an excellent day to start serving afternoon meals to the children in the Malfoy factories.
When Harriet had relayed those plans to her husband, the only thing Draco had asked her was to keep this new arrangement as inconspicuous as possible, to which Harriet had readily agreed. Between Draco and her, it had been decided that Dean would be given the responsibility of taking the container of broth to the factories and serving the children himself every day. Instead of bemoaning about an extra chore, Dean had seemed awfully eager to undertake the additional job. Harriet reckoned that Dean must have been craving some human interaction after spending years working in the stables with only horses for company and Goyle had no opinion or care for anything other than food and as such wasn't much of a company.
Once the matter of the carrier had been settled, Harriet who had been previously planning to prepare the broth by herself, unhappily eschewed such intentions, especially with Umbridge's comments still fresh in her mind. Instead, Harriet decided to just supervise their cook, Tom in the preparation.
The servants involved in this task were sternly ordered to maintain a tight-lip and as such, the questions that would inevitably rise from the workers, both adults and children, would remain unanswered.
On the afternoon of first of October, Harriet awaited Dean's return from the factories with the combination of excitement and anxiety. When he finally did, Harriet could not wait to hear all that had transpired in the factories.
Harriet had winced when Dean plaintively admitted that the children acted sceptical and even suspicious of him and the generous offer. But of course, since Dean only worked within the confines of the Manor, no person except Mr. Ackerly and couple of other high-level employees recognised him as one of the Malfoy servants. At last, Draco had to intervene and announce his approval of the donation and informed them that the benefactor has requested him to be kept anonymous before they could trust to accept the bowls of warm, liquid food from Dean.
Upon Harriet's relentless prodding, Dean had reluctantly and hesitantly confessed that though they fed on the broth, the children did not show much enthusiasm over the food and that some of them even criticised the penny-pinching of the supplier.
Seeing the crestfallen look on Harriet's face, "But those are just some ungrateful brats, Mrs. Malfoy!" Dean had insisted consolingly and then showing her the empty container, he had added in emphasis, "See, it's all gone."
Harriet had given him a weak smile in response.
After few days of deliberation and mental calculations, Harriet had decided to provide chicken broth for the children once a week. This additional expense left Harriet with little money for her personal expenses. But Harriet reckoned that she would adjust somehow but determined to keep this information from her husband. At times like these, Harriet wished she could be working in order to make some money for herself.
The vibrating chime of the calling bell brought Harriet out of her reverence and she realised that her husband had finally awakened.
Half an hour later, Draco entered the sitting room to find Harriet curled up in the chair by the bay window and staring out at the grounds. He was expecting her presence in their quarters, especially after Henry's exceptional greeting.
A faint clearing of the throat clued Harriet in on Draco's presence. Turning around, Harriet saw him and quickly stood on her feet. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy," Harriet greeted him softly albeit unsurely.
Draco felt as uncertain as she looked. "Anniversary?"
"Er… yes, it's our wedding day," Harriet confirmed quietly, lowering her gaze shyly and nervously fiddling at the frilly lace of her full sleeve.
Draco nodded once in response, his hands clasped behind him.
There was a long pause as both of them were quite at loss for what else to say.
"Is that why you are wearing that?" Draco asked finally, no longer willing to bear the awkwardness.
Glancing briefly up at him to see Draco gesturing to her almost white attire, Harriet gave a silent nod in reply. Every three months, a modiste named Mrs. Audrey Simons visited the manor with the samples of fabrics, colours as well as designs so that the Malfoy ladies could have their clothes made. Mrs. Simons was quite popular among the high-class families in Tisbury for she kept herself up-to-date with and stitched clothes according to the latest fashions emerging in London. As such, her services were pretty expensive. In the first week of September when Mrs. Simon arrived at the Manor to take the orders for making Alexandra and Harriet's clothes for Emily's wedding, the elderly Malfoy Lady insisted on having a couple of white dress gowns made for Harriet. At that moment Harriet didn't understand her reason but now she realized that Alexandra had this day in mind when she ordered those clothes.
Looking at an uncomfortable-looking Harriet, Draco himself felt uneasy. He had no idea on how to react in their current situation.
A couple of moments elapsed in the same fashion before the blessed breakfast call drifted through the Manor, causing them to inwardly sigh in relief. "Shall we go to breakfast then?" Draco suggested quietly.
Harriet nodded in acquiescence. Approaching him, Harriet accepted his proffered arm and walked along. But just as they exited the room, Draco paused in his tracks causing Harriet to come to halt. "Grandmother would ask about our plans for the day?" Draco said, looking down at Harriet who was glancing quizzically up at him.
Harriet blinked at his abrupt insight before her eyebrows knitted in worry. "I suppose so," she agreed quietly, biting her lower lip in worry.
Groaning at her response, Draco retreated them back inside the Master Suite and absently pushed the door close behind them.
"What shall we do?" Draco grumbled rhetorically and then releasing Harriet's arm and running his now free hand through his white blond hair, he moved toward the window where she had been sitting previously.
Harriet had no answer so she stood quietly and waited for her husband to come up with some solution. Truly, Harriet hadn't met many newly married couples; the only ones she had known personally were Bill and Fleur; and Blaise and Susan. Since Bill and his wife lived so far away, Harriet had no knowledge of how they spent their wedding anniversary. As for Blaise and his wife, Harriet never felt comfortable enough to discuss such personal matters with her male friend.
After several moment of silent deliberation, Draco turned back towards Harriet. "We shall tell Grandmother that we are going on a day trip today," Draco propounded, raising a questioning brow at her.
"Don't you have to go to the factories today?" Harriet enquired curiously.
"I have no meetings today. I can take a day of absence," Draco answered with a causal shrug.
"But where will we go?" Harriet asked warily.
"I have a place in mind," Draco responded vaguely and stared expectantly at her.
Understanding that her husband would offer no more information, Harriet gave him a single nod in acceptance, but inwardly she sighed, growing tired of these surprises that seemed to be constantly sprung upon her.
"A very happy wedding anniversary, dears!" Alexandra cried joyfully as soon as the young couple entered the dining room.
"Thank you, Grandma," Harriet replied with a shy smile while Draco gave her a genial nod in acknowledgement.
"Well, come on then. Tom seems to have prepared a special breakfast for us today," Alexandra remarked happily, gesturing them to the seats.
Halfway through the breakfast, just as Draco suspected Alexandra inquired after their plans for the day.
"I am taking Mrs. Malfoy out later this morning, Grandmother," Draco told her succinctly.
"Where?" Alexandra asked instantly, staring curiously at her Grandson. But when Draco simply gave her a perplexed look, she huffed, "Oh all right, keep your secrets then."
Harriet bit back a smile watching their interaction.
Descrying the weather outside, Harriet changed into darker and warmer clothes before they could depart for their trip. After accepting a warm as well as sly farewell from an extremely pleased-looking Alexandra, Harriet stepped out into the porch only to have her face assume a dubious expression. For someone who preferred outdoors, Harriet felt reluctant to commence upon a trip since the wet and dreary atmosphere of the morning seemed not to have improved much. Harriet looked up to notice the sun unenthusiastically struggling to come out through the gloomy clouds that tinted the sky in grey. The grounds were all covered in dew covered dried red and yellow leaves. Harriet dearly wished to run back into the warm confines of the Manor. Glancing at her husband, Harriet caught a grimace flit across his face and realized that Draco must be entertaining similar thoughts as they waited for Vincent to pull the carriage to the entrance.
But when the carriage halted before them, Draco's face acquired a determined and resolved look. In the next instant, Draco turned his head around and gazed expectantly at Harriet who released a resigned sigh and walked forward. Once they settled inside, the carriage took off to the destination unknown to her. Harriet hoped that her husband wasn't planning on taking her to any of their family or acquaintance's house because that would be sufficiently awkward on this day. If not for the unfavourable weather, Harriet would have suggested for them to take a trip to the hill again.
As they travelled in silence, Harriet peered at the unfamiliar lands through the curtained glass window. It was more than an hour before they reached their destination.
Disembarking the carriage with Draco's help, "Stonehenge?" Harriet muttered incredulously.
Draco made to express his indignation but paused a moment to consider her reaction. Earlier that morning when he mentally searched for places to take her, Draco had come up with bare minimum choices. Draco had thought of taking her to her parents' house but quickly discarded it upon realising that they would be forced to act like a loving couple, ecstatically celebrating their first wedding anniversary. For the same reason, he dropped the idea of visiting the people altogether. This left him with only two options, Public Parks in Wiltshire and the Stonehenge.
Shortly after their marriage, Draco's traitorous mind started conjuring Harriet's images, replacing the previous meaningless women while he took care of his body's carnal needs. At first, Draco had tried hard against entertaining such thoughts about Harriet but finally resigned to the fact that he was fighting an inexorable battle. At that moment, he had consoled himself that this way he would at least be spared from being accused of not keeping mental fidelity. But Draco had also promised that he would never let himself cross that imaginary line between fantasies and reality. But these days, his usual phlegmatic body seemed to have joined ranks with his obstinate mind and could no longer be satisfied with just the prurient thoughts of Harriet. Amorous feelings toward her were ceaselessly recurring inside of him and thus leaving him unsatisfied and greatly frustrated. With a strong intention of keep them at bay on this particular day when they would be all alone and conscious, Draco decided that Stonehenge, a destination with no erotic inclinations whatsoever, would be a perfect place to take her.
Internally conceding at how utterly unfavourable a place for a romantic getaway it was, Draco simply shrugged in response.
Harriet inwardly sighed with an inexplicable disappointment. 'Maybe I have given a lot more credit to his tastes than they deserve,' Harriet mused until she realized that she was simply being petty. 'But of course, Harry, you two are no real couple and hence you have no reason to expect this outing to be anything other than a charade to keep others from discerning the apathy in your marital life. You both might as well have hidden in the Manor stables for few hours if not for the fear of discovery,' she internally chastised herself.
Upon Draco's silent gesture, Harriet listlessly moved forward, leading them towards the circular structure. Noticing her disheartened expression, Draco felt a pang of guilt for bringing her to this place, especially in such dreadful weather. Only the last week of October, the atmosphere was already showing signs of approaching winter.
A stilted silence settled between them as they tramped among the looming stone monuments until Draco opened his mouth to start a conversation to alleviate the bleak mood. "Have you ever come here before?"
"Yes, once. It was Charlie who brought us younger lot to Stonehenge during one of his visits to Biddestone since this was the only place he could afford to takes us all," Harriet replied with a small smile and then seeing his curious look that was uncommonly directed to her, she elaborate. "I was told that though the Weaselys had travelled around some parts of the country, they haven't embarked on any journeys since I came to the Burrow. The only time I remember was to London. That was also the time when my parents found me; Father was visiting the town on some business and my mother was accompanying him---"
Her own words made her pause in shock. 'Am I the reason why the Weasleys could not afford to travel around? Were Ginny's accusations of being nothing but a cumbersome burden true after all?' Harriet wondered with growing despair.
Lost in her depressive thoughts, Harriet failed to notice Draco flinch in response to her explanation. 'And here I am, your husband who has all the money to take you on a Grand World Tour and, if I was honest with myself, time too, yet I brought you to the same place,' Draco reflected uneasily.
In his desperate need to discourage any kind of sexual desires, Draco had failed to consider the impression he would be making on his wife by consorting her to the place that was mostly perceived as a prehistoric burial ground, especially on the occasion of their wedding anniversary. 'I hope she simply thinks that I have poor tastes in these matters? But… that is not so…. considering the number of times she had complimented me when we went shopping for gifts. Maybe she thinks I see our marriage as too insignificant to deserve any consideration?' Draco mused in discomfort.
Pulling himself out of ambivalent thoughts, Draco glanced sideways at Harriet to find her lackadaisically looking at the stones. Noting the abrupt ending of her speech as well as Harriet's current forlorn, Draco had strongly suspicion on what was currently ailing her. "But now that they own the Potter's cotton factory and all their sons earning an income, I believe your parents would soon be able to afford pleasure trips," Draco pointed out quietly.
That's right. A month ago, Harriet had received an ecstatic letter not just from her parents but also from Hermione, informing her that Ronald has managed to acquire himself a post of assistant accountant in Mr. Holland's office in Swindon. Harriet had been so happy with the wonderful news that she had immediately sent her brother a large assortment of marzipans as a way of congratulating him on his success. This reminder brightened Harriet's mood considerably. Glancing at the person responsible, Harriet bestowed a lovely smile in gratification.
At that, Draco felt sudden and inexplicable warmth in the pit of his stomach.
"What about you, Mr. Malfoy? How many times have you visited this place?" Harriet asked interestedly before the ill-desired silence could return.
"Five times," Draco answered succinctly and then noticing his wife's expectant look, Draco expounded, "My Grandfather brought me here for the first time when I was 9. He was the one to divulge the information that was then available on Stonehenge. This was also the last place we visited together before his passing." His baritone voice reduced to a whisper with those last words.
"Oh, I am sorry," Harriet said sympathetically. Despite the nonchalant shrug Draco gave her in response, there is no mistaking the change in his mental state. In their year into marriage, Harriet had improved in interpreting his moods through his body language since Draco was extremely good at keep his face guarded at almost all times. Even when that façade slipped, he was apt at regaining it quickly.
"Did Grandma accompany you two?" Harriet asked before he could disappear further into the morbid thoughts.
Draco blinked in surprise at her. "Yes, she did. They used to take me on all of their travels that did not involve any kind of business," he told her.
"You never talk about your Grandfather," Harriet observed, gazing curiously at him.
At her words, Draco arched a brow at her, half-amused, half-incredulous. This caused Harriet to flush lightly at cheeks. They both knew that Draco never spoke about his family members to her, unless it was to prepare her for appropriate dealing with them. "I meant I never heard you speak of him before now," Harriet defended herself.
When Draco didn't answer right away, Harriet mistook his silence for reticence. Mildly disappointed, Harriet returned her gaze to the erected stones.
"Grandfather Abraxas was a stern man who guided the family with a firm hand. I was under his tutelage till his health started to reside. As long as I maintained the seriousness and dedication during the hours of my education, Grandfather overlooked my other actions and if I remember correctly, he acted as my accomplice many a time," Draco revealed quietly, his tone taking a distant quality.
Harriet, who had immediately flicked her gaze to him upon hearing his voice, detected a fond smile flash across his handsome face.
"Ah, so you do agree that you used to be mischievous boy!" Harriet exclaimed with a chuckle. "In fact, you still are just as mischievous."
"I never said that!" Draco denied vehemently. The effect was, however, ruined by the glint of sly amusement in his bright grey eyes.
Taking it as a challenge, Harriet boldly approached him and then, leaning closer to him, she uttered solemnly, "They say actions speak louder than words. If not for your open confession, Mr. Malfoy, you actions should own up to your naughty streak."
Only inches close to her face, Draco raised his eyebrows, confused but amused nonetheless. Holding his gaze with her glittering one for a minute, Harriet silently turned around and intentionally strutted away from him.
"What do you mean?" Draco prompted, impatient with her teasing.
Pivoting on her feet, she revealed barely held mirth on her face. "You should be more discreet in your actions, Mr. Malfoy. I saw you bribe a servant to plant several of Fred and George's pranks in Edgar's personal rooms before we departed from the Parkin Hall," Harriet admitted with a giggle.
Draco gaped at her in astonishment, causing Harriet to finally give into full-blown laughter. Once he recomposed himself, Draco shook his head but there was no helping the smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Harriet's soft sound echoed in the midst of hanging rocks in the open space.
"So unbecoming for a Lord. Whatever will people say?" Harriet mock-tut-ted, her hilarity increasing upon inspecting the dusting of pink across Draco's pale cheeks caused by embarrassment while he scowled at her.
'Aww, so adorable,' Harriet thought with a soft smile, her hands itching to pinch those flushed cheeks but she held herself back, knowing that it would not be received good-humouredly. By this time, they had finished their perusal of the ancient structure.
Draco directed her towards few rocks situated at a distance. Once they had occupied one each, Harriet inquired, "What time is it now?"
"Almost half past twelve," Draco replied, checking his pocket watch and then standing on his feet, Draco waved at their coachman.
In the next moment, Crabbe approached them, carrying a food basket that Maria had prepared for them. "Have you eaten, Vincent?" Harriet queried their carriage driver, accepting the basket from him.
"No, Mrs. Malfoy," Crabbe answered politely.
"Have you at least brought food for yourself?" Harriet asked, gazing questioningly up at hulking man.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well then, go ahead, have your lunch. We won't need you for half-an-hour at least," Harriet adjured him.
Nodding in acquiescence, Crabbe bowed to his Master and Mistress and returned to the carriage. Collecting his meal, Crabbe went and ate at a long distance from them, not intruding upon their privacy.
Meanwhile, Harriet diligently cut some fruits, placed them on a plate and, offered it to her husband. Harriet had also learnt that her husband preferred a light meal for lunch. Harriet sighed in relief upon finding a wine bottle and a couple of glasses in the basket. Harriet rarely drank any alcohol but in this cool weather, she heartily welcomed the beverage. Pouring a glass each, Harriet handed one to Draco and nursed another herself.
"Why aren't you eating?" Draco questioned, frowning at her.
Harriet, who had just taken an appreciate sip of the rare vintage wine, brought the glass out of her mouth. "I am not quite hungry," she responded with a shrug.
'Oh for God's sake, not again!' Draco inwardly growled when his nether regions stirred upon detecting a hint of transparent wine clinging to her lower lip and glistening with its sheen. In the next second, the tip of her pink tongue darted out and wiped it clean. With sheer force of will, Draco tore his gaze down from those delectable lips.
Oblivious of her husband's not-so-innocent thoughts, Harriet leisurely glanced around the open grounds.
"You must be glad that the adult workers haven't caused any furore because of the food supplied to the children," Draco stated, abruptly raising the topic of her donation in order to deviate his mind for the current thoughts.
Harriet winced at the reminder. "It must be because children aren't very enthusiastic about it themselves," she murmured, glancing down at her lap.
Draco paused in the process of putting the slice of apple in his mouth at hearing her dejected tone. Glancing up and regarding her slumped shoulders, Draco made a disapproving noise at the back of his throat. "People are always a greedy lot by nature. Even if you supplied them with meat and sweets every day, they would still find something or another to complain about," Draco proclaimed wisely.
Harriet raised her head, realizing that her husband was trying to console her in his own atypical way. For some strange reason, it was working; Harriet was actually feeling better about the whole issue for the first time.
Visibly brightening a little, Harriet gave a single nod in understanding to her husband who was watching her.
Silence retreated for few minutes as Draco quietly finished his meal while Harriet uninterestedly looked at the golden-brown grass spread across the vast grounds and withering trees at a distance.
"Grandma won't be expecting us at least until late afternoon, yes?" Harriet mumbled almost in a whine, shivering at the sudden onslaught of chill.
"Hmmm," Draco grumbled with an aggravated sigh, internally cursing the fierce air that started picking momentum.
Shivering again against the frosty breeze, Harriet pulled her hooded cloak closer to her body. "Mr. Malfoy, can't we go some place warm where we could kill some time before we return to the Manor?" Harriet asked wearily.
"Where do you suggest we go?" Draco drawled dryly, grimacing as the wind ruffled his hair, leaving red leaves stuck to his silver locks.
"I don't know, a public house maybe," Harriet suggested with a shrug.
"Absolutely not!" Draco exclaimed, outraged. Pausing in his action of sweeping the leaves off his hair to glance sharply at her. "It's no place for women," he explained stiffly.
"Doesn't a woman named Rosmerta run the public house in the Calne market?" Harriet asked with her forehead creased in confusion.
"How do you know that? Did you ever visit that place?" Draco demanded, his smouldering grey eyes narrowing at her in disapproval and suspicion.
"No. I just heard my brothers talk about it once," Harriet answered quickly.
When Draco sighed in relief, Harriet's frown deepened. "What is so wrong about my visiting that place?" she asked, staring at Draco with her head tilted to the side.
"It is no place for a proper lady," Draco clarified acutely.
Harriet mentally rolled her eyes. "But it's getting cold out here," she complained and then glancing up, she noticed the scattered clouds gathering overhead. "And it looks like it's going to rain."
Draco ignored her.
Not a couple of moments after Harriet said that, it started to shower lightly, spraying them with tiny raindrops.
Harriet gave him a look that said, 'I told you so.'
"It's just a drizzle," Draco shrugged in response. Despite his nonchalance, it was quite obvious how unhappy he was with the turn of the events.
Harriet gaped at him in disbelief. "All of our clothes will be drenched if we stay a few more minutes out here. Please, Mr. Malfoy, let's return to the Manor. We will tell Grandma that we had to cut our trip short because of the terrible weather," Harriet urged him. When Draco did not respond, Harriet stomped up to her still seated husband and tugging at his arm.
"No," Draco objected, his face set in a stubborn look. Seizing Harriet's insistent hand, he rendered her still in place.
"Mr. Malfoy, why are acting this way?" Harriet cried anxiously over the wind that had now picked up in speed and was loudly blowing in gusts. "It isn't just the matter of us. It isn't fair of us to force Vincent to endure these conditions," she added upon seeing Crabbe who was watching them expectantly from his driver seat.
Harriet watched as the resolve on Draco's face fell for a second before reassuming the previous pertinacious state. Staring at her unyielding husband, Harriet tried to understand the reason behind his irrational behaviour while the cold wind whipped around them, wildly fluttering their slowly wetting clothes.
"It's because of your Mother, isn't it? It has to do with what she said last month?" Harriet deduced at last, her expression clearing in comprehension.
Draco's body tensed and his expression hardened, confirming her words thusly.
Harriet closed her eyes, a surge of sympathy welling for her poor husband inside of her heart. Not minding the wetness on the rock, Harriet occupied the space beside her stonily sitting husband who kept his gaze ahead. When Draco realised his hold on her hand, Harriet loosened her grip on his arm. But before he could withdraw his hand completely, Harriet turned her palm around and seizing his larger hand, she intertwined her fingers with his stiff ones and gently squeezed them. At this action of hers, Draco turned sideways to her with a frown.
"Mr. Malfoy, you told me before our wedding that I shouldn't take your Mother's nasty comments to heart. I think it's time you followed your own advice. Staying in this terrible weather with no consideration whatsoever for the adverse effects it might have on your health, just so you can prove her wrong, will only serve to show how much her ill-intended words have affected you," Harriet said softly, looking steadily into his grey-silver depths.
When Draco's expression did not change, "You have compromised many things in your life for the well-being of your family, Mr. Malfoy, you don't need to endanger your health as well," Harriet finished, staring beseechingly at him.
The earnest look on Harriet's face finally crumbled Draco's resolve. 'Neither do you,' Draco determined at last, gazing at her. Finally, he heaved himself to his feet, causing Harriet to smile at him. Together with their hands still joined, they hurried towards the awaiting carriage.
Extremely grateful for the shelter of their closed carriage, Harriet and Draco settled back in the leather seat as their transport galloped towards the destination. Halfway through, Harriet frowned upon seeing her husband who was sitting stiffly beside her. Upon scrutiny, Harriet noticed a tremor wrecking across his body while Draco tried hard to keep his cold state hidden.
Her heart tugged at Draco's suffering. Undoing the clasp by her throat, "You must be freezing. Here," Harriet said, offering her thick woollen cloak to her husband.
Draco snapped his head sideways to her, to find her eyes expressing simple concern for him. "No, I am absolutely fine. I don't need your cloak," Draco declined firmly, his voice booking no argument.
Disappointed, Harriet bit her lower lip in thought. Her eyes brightened as an idea lit her mind. Turning the cloak perpendicular so that its length becomes its breadth, Harriet adjusted the cloak around herself and then sliding closer to Draco, she draped the remaining around his broad shoulders while Draco simply gaped at her.
Glancing up at Draco who was staring at her but managed to close his mouth, "Better?" Harriet asked, her large viridian orbs innocent in their soft enquiry.
Noting the sudden closeness between their faces, Draco quickly turned his head ahead and grunted in reply. Smiling in satisfaction, Harriet returned her eyes to the window.
Though immensely glad for the additional warmth, Draco could not divert his mind from the feel of her warm body against his side. The awareness of the soft yet firm swell of Harriet's bosom pressed snugly against his upper arm was kindling unwanted sensations in his loins. As opposed to his outwardly stoic expression, Draco was internally struggling to dissuade the growing tightening in his lower regions. Espying the market as they passed the Calne streets, Draco hollered abruptly to halt, thoroughly startling Harriet as well as Crabbe.
Doing as ordered, "Where to, Sir?" Crabbe asked turning his large head sideways.
Slightly poking his head out of the window, Draco commanded, "To Madam Puddifoot's coffee shop, Crabbe."
As Vincent urged the horses to march forward, "I thought we were returning to the Manor?" Harriet said, frowning at him in confusion.
"I just realised that we could squander some time in the coffee shop," Draco made an excuse smoothly.
As the carriage came to the stop before a cramped, steamy little teashop, Draco jumped out of the carriage, anxious to get away from the confinement that was a little too cosy for his comfort. When Harriet made to follow his lead, Draco unceremoniously dropped his hand, which was outstretched to help Harriet out, having unexpectedly appraised the way her partially wet clothes were clinging to the rounded curves of her upper body.
"What's the matter?" Harriet asked, furrowing her eyebrows at him.
Feeling the heat creep up from under his neck, Draco averted his eyes from such a provoking sight. "Ahem…yes…just…why don't you stay inside the carriage, I will send your coffee here?" he managed to say at last.
Getting annoyed at these restrictions, "Am I not allowed to enter the coffee shop as well?" Harriet scowled at him.
Flustered, Draco mentally groaned, ill-desiring to point out the visible problem to her. "Just stay inside," he ordered imperiously and closing the carriage door firmly on her, he swiftly walked away before she could protest further.
Inside the shop, Draco used the ten minutes to compose his body while he waited for his order to arrive. Draco thanked the flowing length of the very coat he had been cursing previously for not accomplishing its job in providing him with adequate warmth.
"To whom should I deliver the extra cup, sir?" A young man, who was serving the patrons, politely enquired him after placing the coffee before him.
The new servant at the coffee shop was young, medium height and lean, Draco noted absently. "It's for the lady inside the carriage," he supplied curtly, picking up his cup. "Take the cakes as well."
Politely inclining his brown-haired head, the young man carried the tray away, walking towards the entrance. The man did not even take a couple of steps before Draco's eyes widened in realization. Immediately leaping out his seat, Draco commanded the man to stop.
Striding at a pace that wouldn't seem too hasty toward the servant, "I wish to enjoy the coffee in the carriage myself," Draco drawled haughtily and then gestured to him to follow.
The rain had stopped for now. Upon approaching the carriage door, Draco silently raised an authoritative hand, pausing the servant in his tracks. Talking the tray from his hands, Draco handed the young man some coins to cover for the payment as well as notable tip for his service. "Come back in few minutes to collect the crockery," he commanded and vanished inside.
Taking an eager sip of streaming liquid, Harriet extended the assortment of cakes arranged on a plate to her husband.
Shaking his head at her offer, "There are only for you," Draco replied casually.
"But these are a great deal too many," Harriet argued, glancing between him and the plate in her hand.
"You missed your lunch," Draco replied laconically with a nonchalant shrug.
A smile split across her face at his concern, "Thank you," Harriet whispered softly.
Some time later, as they set out to the Malfoy Manor once again, Harriet scooted closer to Draco and made to again drape the cloak that he had discarded when he had climbed down from the carriage.
"There is no need. I don't feel cold anymore," Draco objected shortly and moved closer to the window, pointedly putting a distance between them.
Mildly hurt by his sudden aloofness, "Oh," Harriet said in a small voice and then gathering the cloak tightly around herself, she turned her gaze back to the window by her side.
Draco and Harriet were relieved to note that it was almost three in the afternoon when they returned to the Manor. Thoroughly cleaning themselves of the mud and grim and changing into fresh, dry clothes, they approached the drawing room together where Alexandra was waiting for them.
"I had your anniversary gifts sent by the Weasleys placed in your room. Have you seen them?" Alexandra inquired them.
"Yes, Grandma," Harriet replied gaily whilst Draco gave her a slight nod in acknowledgement.
"Well, how was your trip?" Alexandra asked at once glancing between the young couple.
"It was all right," Harriet replied dispiritedly. This caused Draco to frown at her; he had hoped that his wife would at least pretend to have enjoyed the trip.
"You don't seemed very pleased, Harriet," Alexandra stated, arching a quizzical brow at her.
"Oh, it's just the dreadful weather, Grandma. It spoilt the exciting excursion that Mr. Malfoy had planned out for us," Harriet grumbled with a pout.
Draco was surprised by the most convincing act of his wife.
"Ah yes, I was worrying about that myself," Alexandra agreed with a commiserating nod. "Well am I allowed to know what exotic place you took your wife to, or is it still a secret?" she asked, glancing at Draco who was staring at Harriet.
Snapping his attention back to his Grandmother, Draco made to reply but Harriet beat him to it. "Mr. Malfoy took me to Bowood house and gardens, Grandma, because I told him that I had never visited that place," she blurted out, drawing Alexandra's eyes back on her.
Draco's eyebrows disappeared in his fringe but he schooled his features by the time Alexandra turned to throw a curious yet approving look at him.
Upon Harriet's imploring expression that was directed at him, Draco silently nodded in confirmation. Unlike the coolness and composure of his façade, Draco was fuming inside.
"I must say Bowood has one of the finest gardens I have ever seen. It has been years since I visited that place. Help me recollect its memories, Harriet. Tell me what all you have seen," Alexandra said, turning her full attention to Harriet.
Draco's stomach plummeted at Alexandra's request. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the oncoming humiliation for them and disappointment for his dear old Grandmother until Harriet opened her mouth.
"Of course, Grandma," Harriet happily obliged, causing Draco to snap his eyes open. "Though we disembarked at the house, we decided to take a stroll through the Capability Brown grounds first. Despite it being autumn, the rhododendron woods still held a breathtaking beauty…….."
As Harriet enthusiastically narrated an accurate description of the garden, Draco sat in the chair stolidly whilst his mind was reeling with an overwhelming shock at witnessing his wife's capability at lying so aptly that it had momentarily overshadowed his anger at her.
"I believe there is also a lake in the estate," Alexandra remarked after Harriet finished describing the gardens.
At that, Draco's eyes narrowed for a brief second in suspicion. It sounded to him that his Grandmother was skilfully subjecting Harriet to an inquiry through her innocent queries. Unbeknownst of Alexandra's guile, Harriet started again. "Oh yes, the man-made lake. It was really tranquil watching the wind blowing over the surface of the lake and causing perfect ripples on the surface of the water. But we didn't linger there for a long while because of its cool air."
"And the house?"
This session progressed for several minutes while Draco carefully watched his Grandmother's doubts steadily diminishing with each of Harriet's precise answers.
"You seem to like the place very much, then why do you sound so despondent?" Alexandra asked, the wrinkles on her forehead deepening in confusion.
"Oh, it's just that it started to rain halfway through our pleasant walk, leaving us drenched by the time we reached the shelter. They offered us rooms to stay but Mr. Malfoy thought it would be prudent to return home before the weather took a nasty turn," Harriet explained and then gesturing to the heavy downpour visible through the closed glass windows of the room, she added, "And he was right."
Nodding in agreement, "Even if it was a short trip, I am extremely happy to hear that you two enjoyed your excursion," Alexandra remarked and then focusing on Draco, she added, "It was a smart decision to return early though, darling."
Glancing at the ornate wall clock, "Oh I didn't realize that it's almost time for dinner. Let's dispersed to change for the evening, dears," Alexandra suggested, rising from the sofa.
The other two occupants quietly nodded in acquiescence and followed her lead. Pausing at the doorway, Alexandra glanced back at Harriet with a recommendation, "Wear the other one for this evening, Harriet."
Draco and Harriet stiffly proceeded to the Master Suite in silence, each lost in their contemplations.
As soon as they entered their private quarters, "Argh, I really hate lying to Grandma," Harriet moaned walking straight to the sofa, sinking down on it and, burying her face in her hands.
"Then why did you feel the need to lie at all?" Draco growled, directing a reproachful glare at her.
Slowing raising her head from the hands upon hearing his irate voice, Harriet apprehensively eyed her furious-looking husband. "Er….I…I felt that….. Grandma would become….. quite disconcerted by the truth," Harriet admitted hesitantly, biting her lips.
Draco was dumbstruck; her reply felt like adding salt to his already bruised ego.
When he recovered from the shock, "Why did you say that the Stonehenge was the only tourist place you visited in Wiltshire?" Draco demanded angrily.
"Because it's the truth, Mr. Malfoy!" Harriet insisted, rising to her feet.
"Somehow I doubt that," Draco drawled scathingly. "One cannot acquire that kind of deep knowledge without experiencing the trip to the gardens themselves."
"Yes, you can if you are friends with someone like Hermione," Harriet argued, starting to feel miffed at his accusations. "I didn't lie to you when I said that Stonehenge was the only place I ever visited in Wiltshire. Everything I know about Bowood was the information I gained from my best friend. Summer of last year, the Grangers took their daughter there. Hermione was quite incessant in her desire to divulge the littlest details to me about the place when she returned."
A tense silence followed next.
Despite her honest explanations, Draco's infuriation towards her didn't lessen. "You better get dressed. We will be expected at dinner soon," Draco drawled, his tone icy. Without waiting for her reply, Draco stormed off in the direction of his dressing room.
Glumly, Harriet dragged herself toward her room.
Dressed in a crisp black suit, Draco arrived back in the sitting room. Finding it vacant, Draco settled himself in a high-backed chair to await his wife.
Though his anger had abated over the last half an hour, Draco couldn't stop feeling insulted that Harriet had replaced their tour of Stonehenge with a tale of some imaginary wanderings to the gardens; that his wife had brushed away his efforts in escorting her to that historical monument so uncaringly.
Draco felt his ire returning as he pondered over these thoughts. Realizing that he had been waiting for more than ten minutes, Draco growled in irritation. Springing to his feet, Draco swiftly made way to Harriet's dressing room.
Rapping loudly on the closed door, "How long is it going to take, Mrs. Malfoy?" Draco grumbled impatiently.
"I will be out in a second, Mr. Malfoy," came the quick reply from inside.
Draco grunted peevishly.
Turning away, Draco only walked a couple of steps in the opposite direction when the door opened to reveal Harriet.
"I am ready, sir," Harriet said, staring docilely at her white shoes. Hearing her meek voice, Draco turned around to face her. And what he saw made his breath catch. Harriet wore a pure white silk gown that was fitted about her bosom with the help of an ivory-coloured satin ribbon that was secured just underneath but leaving the material to flow down the rest of her body. Unlike the usual, Harriet wore short, puffed up sleeves, revealing her smooth, shapely arms for the first time, Draco noted. Her hair was pulled back and twisted into a bun leaving a few curled tendrils appealingly cascaded about her ears that were accessorised with a pearl hanging down a delicate silver loop. A single fresh, white daisy pinned just behind her right ear, contrastingly decorated her ebony hair. The resplendence of her attire lay in the simplicity of its design. In addition to the dress that wondrously accentuated her petite form as well as her complexion, her soft cheeks were rouged into a pink blush, her full lips painted in red and her uncovered neck simply adorned with a delicate-looking golden chain, Harriet looked otherworldly.
With her gaze still lowered, Harriet missed as Draco openly struggled to gain composure. Nettled, Draco pursed his lips at her ability to constantly throw him off guard. "Finally. Shall we go?" Draco snapped, thrusting his arm at her.
In spite of himself, Draco noticed how becomingly the silk material of the gown flared around her legs with every graceful step she took.
Arm in arm as they sauntered through the oil lamp-lit corridors, Harriet peered up at her quiescent husband through her dark eyelashes to find a sour look gracing his handsome face. Mustering a little courage, Harriet spoke in a low voice. "I am extremely sorry, Mr. Malfoy. It was never my intention to offend you or hurt your sensibilities."
Harriet's face slackened when neither his expression changed nor Draco responded.
Harriet made to expound on her intentions behind her actions fully but fell silent seeing that they had reached the dining room.
Harriet's lips parted in surprise as her eyes spanned the family dining room. Unlike every evening when it was brightened with abundant candles and oil lamps hung on the walls, the dining room was faintly illuminated and provided warmth by the blazing embers in the enormous fireplace. Whilst the table was alighted the candles held on the branches of silver candelabra placed on the pristinely polished wooden surface.
"Why is it so dark in here?" Draco snapped in annoyance. "Francis?"
The butler immediately appeared by their side. "It was upon Lady Malfoy's order, Sir. She desired for a serene ambience for this evening's meal."
"I see," Draco barely managed to stop from rolling his eyes. "Where is she then?"
"After finishing her supper, Madam Malfoy retired to her rooms, Sir. She asked me to pass on the greetings of a wonderful evening to you two," Francis replied courtly glancing from his Master to the Mistress.
"What?" Draco exclaimed his eyes widened in solicitude whilst Harriet frowned in worry.
Unheeding to Francis's assurance of Alexandra's wellness, Draco and Harriet scuttled in the direction of her rooms.
Bursting through the door, they found Alexandra lounging on her bed with her legs stretched out and reading a book.
Rushing to her side, Harriet gently pressed the back of her hand against an utterly startled Alexandra's forehead. Meanwhile, Draco inquired in urgency, "Grandmother, are you all right? Should I send Goyle to bring in Dr. Derwent?"
Sighing in relief at finding her temperature normal, "Where does it hurt, Grandma? Are your knees bothering you again? Of course, they are. Damn the awful cold. Once I rub on the concoction, you will start feeling relief again," Harriet consoled gently, throwing the blankets on her legs.
Alexandra watched overwhelmed as Harriet shuffled towards the medicine cabinet and started rummaging through its contents whilst Draco continued to make frantic queries after her health, clearly not bothering with her baffled looks.
"Stop it, you fools!" Alexandra exclaimed at last, loud enough to be heard over the young couple's anxious voices. Harriet and Draco froze in mid-action, to stare at her, confounded. Taking a deep breath, Alexandra spoke again in a calmer tone, "Firstly, let me inform you both that I am absolutely fine. The reason I chose to consume dinner in my rooms is so that you two could have a private meal on the eve of your anniversary. It is my gift to you."
Draco and Harriet simply blinked at her.
"At first, I thought of throwing a ball to celebrate your first wedding anniversary. I discarded that idea upon recognising how uncomfortable they make you, Harriet," Here Alexandra paused to direct a sympathetic look at her. Harriet flushed at once, understanding the older woman's implication that she had, in fact, witnessed Harriet's ill treatment at the hands of some of the guests at Emily's wedding. "And that how you personally detest the social gathering full of facetious people, Draco," Alexandra added giving a knowing look at her astonished-looking grandson.
"I wanted you to enjoy this day, not deal with people's attitudes. So, I settled for arranging a surprise dinner for you," Alexandra concluded with a sigh.
When the young couple continued to look at her with nonplussed expressions, "It is just unfortunate for me, that you two turned out to be equally thick-headed," Alexandra groused throwing perplexed looks at each of them. This caused Harriet and Draco to colour deep in embarrassment.
"Now the matter has been cleared, you should return to the dining room and enjoy the special meal before it gets cold," Alexandra advised, shooing them out. Harriet, dressed in white and Draco, in black, together they were looking no different than that on their wedding, Alexandra noted with a satisfied smile.
Nodding in acquiescence and bidding her good night, Harriet and Draco ambled towards the doors.
Remembering something, Alexandra gestured to Draco stay back and said to Harriet,
"Excuse us for a moment, dear."
Harriet nodded. "I will wait outside for you, Mr. Malfoy," she promised with a genial smile and swept out of the room.
"Harriet looks lovely this evening, doesn't she?" Alexandra remarked, her bright blue eyes moving from the door to her grandson.
"Yes, she does," Draco agreed promptly, his gaze affixed on the doors through which Harriet had disappeared. In the next instant, Draco flushed in mortification at his careless slip of tongue.
Shaking her head at his self-chagrin, "You should tell her that, Draco. Harriet is your wife. It is not considered a violation of propriety to openly admit your attraction for her. In fact, for a wife, there is nothing more valuable than a heartfelt compliment coming straight from her husband's mouth," Alexandra exhorted, gazing intently up at him.
Draco blinked at her before nodding in understanding. With a fond smile, Alexandra allowed him to leave to rejoin his wife.
Entering the dining room for the second time in the same evening, Harriet observed the arrangements with a more appreciate eye, having now learnt of the efforts Alexandra had put through.
Placing a gentle hand on the small of her back, Draco guided her towards the table and pulled a chair out for her. 'Just because I am mad at her doesn't mean I have to forgo etiquette,' Draco defended his actions. Draco told himself that he also did not care for the brilliant smile she bestowed upon him once she took the proffered seat.
Immediately, Francis appeared at the table with the food. Placing the first course in front of Harriet and Draco, the butler instantly disappeared from the room until it was time for the second one.
Spooning the soup into her mouth, Harriet's eyes briefly fluttered close in appreciation as she felt the warm, thick and creamy liquid sliding down her throat. Man and wife would have consumed their meal in what would have been an interminable silence if Harriet didn't dare to broach the precious matter again.
With her voice no more audible than a whisper, Harriet spoke, "Mr. Malfoy, I know you are still angry with me. I am extremely sorry for keeping our true excursion from Grandma—"
Draco interrupted her with a loud snort.
"Mr. Malfoy, please give me a chance to explain myself fully," Harriet implored, leaning across the table and gazing at him desperately.
Draco remained silent. Interpreting it as permission to continue, Harriet began in a voice that was only meant for his ears, "Ever since our marriage, …… Grandma has been trying to ….ummm…pus.. push us…. together in some way or another. I …I am not sure why she feels the need for it. I think it might be because she thinks…. snaps her gaze down…. I am a… ahem.. pru..de when it comes to my… swallow…particular duties as your…cough…. wife," her face slowly reddening with each word she uttered.
Hearing that, Draco's eyebrows rose and his mercurial eyes lifted from his plate to focus on her.
Clearing her throat in embarrassment, Harriet glanced back up to him and continued,
"Or it could be because Grandma feels that you tend to disregard your desires when you immerse yourself in the family business---"
Harriet stopped mid-sentence catching sight of Draco's stunned expression and her eyes widened in realization. "Oh no, I am really sorry, Mr. Malfoy. I didn't mean to sound like a tattletale," she apologized bashfully, her face pinched. Harriet felt like hitting herself on the forehead for her lax tongue.
Wanting to leave the awkward moment behind, Harriet hastily carried forward, "What I mean to say is that I noticed Grandma's peculiar behaviour only recently. But this morning was different; she was ecstatic knowing that we were embarking upon…..umm….ahem…. . a conjugal escapade without any prompting from her."
Once Draco digested and later ceded to his Grandmother's opinion regarding his work ethics, he took great fun in watching his wife stumble upon words as she tried to convey her observations between biting her lips and blushing profusely. Though he understood the gist of what Harriet was trying to say, Draco did not stop her for he found her fidgeting extremely amusing.
Harriet fell silent when Francis arrived with the next course.
When the butler left again, "Now, looking at all this," Harriet exclaimed in effusion, her hand gesturing to the scrupulous planning that went in organising an intimate setting and the menu, "It is obvious that Grandma was just as deeply affected by Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy's comments on the last night of our stay, isn't it?"
Finally, Draco gave a nod in acknowledgement. Yes, his mother had a talent of saying the thing that cut straight through the heart. No matter how nonchalant people might act, the effect would come to light, sooner or later. Once again, Draco inwardly cursed Narcissa for causing such heartache to his beloved Grandmother.
"I must say, you should be commended for your spontaneity in lying so convincingly," Draco remarked at length and forked a bite of the succulent meat in his mouth.
Swallowing the morsel of food in her mouth, Harriet gave him a rueful smile. "I wasn't spontaneous, Mr. Malfoy. I had been preparing for that interaction for the past couple of hours before we entered the drawing room," she confessed quietly.
Draco's eyebrows rose again in surprise.
"I should have confided my plans to you, Mr. Malfoy, long before I started spouting all that nonsense to Grandma," Harriet conceded, shaking her head at her foolhardiness.
When Draco gave her a befuddled look, "It's just that despite my preparations, I wasn't confident whether I would go through with it. I've never had to lie outright to Grandma. My heart was pounding the whole time and my palms had gone cold," Harriet revealed, her eyes intensely bright.
Draco felt his anger dissolving by the time Harriet's finished her speech. For someone who considered himself phlegmatic, Draco was moved by his wife concerns as well as by the lengths she went to ensure Alexandra's happiness and his expression softened in response.
Harriet took that to mean Draco was at least mollified and smiled in relief. 'And it feels nice,' Harriet mused drolly, feeling a weight lift from her chest. 'To share one's deepest feelings with one's husband.'
Though Draco's ire at Harriet subsided entirely, the selfish part of him refused to be appeased. 'What about me? My feelings?' Draco refused to think that he was simply being petulant. After all, Harriet was his wife and it is only natural for him to expect some kind of appreciation from her.
His conscience, which sounded suspiciously like Blaise, snapped at last. 'Oh, get over yourself, Draco and stop feeling so affronted. In the end, Harriet made you not only to be a perfect romantic but also a caring husband in front of Grandmother, something you showed you are not by taking her to that place. Can't you imagine Grandmother's reaction if you told her that your idea of romantic escapade was a trip to Stonehenge? Harriet spared you the mortification and questions that would inevitably be directed at you, for it was your idea after all. You have no cause to complain. And for God's sake, give Harry a break!' His inner voice admonished him.
'Fine!'
They enjoyed the rest of the heavenly meal in a companionable silence. Whilst Draco tried in vain to prevent his slate eyes from frequently drawing towards Harriet's radiant face glowing and her emerald eyes glittering alluringly when her eyelids were lifted, in the incandescent candlelight.
After dinner, they retired to the drawing room.
"Music?" Harriet suggested softly.
Inclining his platinum blond head in consent, Draco led her to the pianoforte. When Harriet made her herself comfortable on the seat, she glanced up at him. "Would you prefer any particular composition?"
"Mozart perhaps," Draco shrugged and then added the excuse, "Start playing, I shall return in a minute or two."
Giving him a nod, Harriet turned her attention to the music sheets before her while Draco strode out.
Harriet noticed Draco's return in the middle of the performance and continued playing.
When she was finished, Harriet glanced up at Draco who standing by and staring out of the bay windows that overlooked the gardens. "Are you up for a duet, Mr. Malfoy?" Harriet said, her expression set in a pleading smile.
Draco turned and gazed expressionlessly at her for a long pause before obliging her request. As Draco approached the instrument, Harriet eagerly moved to the corner of the seat to make space for him.
Occupying the seat beside her, Draco delicately placed his fingertips on the keys. Together they played a piece with Harriet biting back a giggle at each of her stumbles whilst Draco maintained precision.
When the last note of their enchanting music died down, "It will take a long time, Mr. Malfoy, for me to achieve your level of perfection," Harriet proclaimed matter-of-factly, followed by a chuckle.
With a smirk, Draco turned his head sideways to face his bewitching wife. Looking at her vivacious visage, Draco remembered Alexandra's suggestion at the start of the evening. His amusement died when he could not summon the heart to voice his admiration of her current appearance. Instead of acceding to the fact that he was simply being a coward, Draco told himself that he didn't want to admit his growing attraction to Harriet and engender false hopes in her that she could continue to prevail as his consort for the rest of their lives.
Upon noticing his unblinking stare upon her person, Harriet felt her cheeks burn. "What is it, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked self-consciously.
Blinking out of his broodings, Draco turned his gaze ahead while clearing his mind of his current thoughts. Eventually, Draco withdrew something from his coat pocket and held it to his wife. It was a white rose. "Apology accepted," Draco said laconically.
The bewildered expression on Harriet's face morphed into one of happiness. With tears prickling at the corner of her eyes, Harriet reverently accepted the flower with a startled giggle.
"Wait, I have something for you," Harriet said as Draco made to blow the candles by their bedside.
Comfortably ensconced on the king-size bed, Harriet could smell the fragrance of the roses that meticulously decorated their bedroom. At the end of the evening, when they returned to their rooms to retire for the night, Harriet and Draco were less surprised to find the Master Suite beautified with aromatic, red roses.
Twisting his upper body around to face Harriet who sitting in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed and facing him, Draco arched a brow at her in surprise.
"It's kind of another confession," Harriet admitted hesitantly, biting her lips.
Releasing an exasperated sigh, Draco fully turned to sit facing her. "Let's hear it, then."
Harriet flustered at having his full attention on her and lowered her head, staring at her lap. "Er, well you see,…. you were not the only one to forget our wedding anniversary," she mumbled, shamefaced. This caused Draco's second brow to join the raised one.
"It is quite understandable that with your mind filled with business meetings and other more serious and important family issues, you might not remember the significance of this day. But, unlike you, I have no such excuse. Regardless of the motivations behind our union, it was contemptible of me, a wife to forget our wedding day," Harriet claimed, words flowing from her mouth in self-disgust as she tightly squeezed her interlaced fingers lying in her lap in agitation.
Draco stared his wife in shock, listening to the words.
"So, I hope you, as my husband will accept this," Harriet said apprehensively, diffidently extending her open palm holding a tiny box towards him, "as a token of my apology as well as a wedding present."
A few minutes passed in quiet anticipation on Harriet's case before Draco assented to take the box from her. With an expression of wonder, Draco silently eyed Harriet's anxious face for a minute and then slowly opened the lid to reveal an exquisite pearl cosily sitting in a red-coloured velvet-cushioned interior.
Recognising the pearl as the one that Harriet found in the shore, Draco snapped his gaze back at her. "Isn't it the---"
"Yes," Harriet acknowledged before he could finish. "Today, I searched all my possessions to find you something to present to you on this day since I….." she trailed off with a cringe. A moment later, Harriet cleared her throat and then casting a swift glance up at him, she pushed forward, "And I couldn't find anything else suitable and worthy enough to gift you."
"I can't accept this," Draco responded tightly and then pressing his lips in strong disapproval, he firmly held the box back to her.
Harriet jerked her head up at his refusal. "But Mr. Malfoy, I am apologising for my folly, aren't I?" Harriet exclaimed, staring desperately at him.
"It's not that!" Draco protested aggressively. "This pearl came to you. It's yours to keep. Your 'lucky charm.'" Though Draco personally never cared much for that word, he remembered Edgar calling the pearl her lucky charm.
"But I already have a lucky charm. See," Harriet cried with an abrupt laughter, pulling out the delicate golden chain he had seen her wear all the time, from underneath her nightclothes. Leaning close to him, Harriet held a dainty heart-shaped pendant hanging from the chain out to him and she muttered with a smile, "Bill and Fleur gave this charm to me the day before our wedding. I would like to believe that this is what brought me that pearl."
Letting the chain fall back on her chest, Harriet drifted her striking green eyes back at Draco's handsome face and said, "If this pearl is, indeed, a lucky charm, then I want you to have one as well."
"But it is also your souvenir…" Draco protested in agitation, her forehead deeply frowning.
"Since I already acknowledged the existence of many oddities in myself. I will be shameless and add one more to the list and ask you to let me see that pearl whenever I feel like reminiscing on the great times we spent by the sea of Newbiggin," Harriet requested him, chuckling at her self-quirk.
When Draco still seemed unconvinced, "Please, Mr. Malfoy, I really really really want you to have it," Harriet pressed, her eyes wide and sparkling expectantly. "If I kept it, I would secure it in a safe and not bother to take it out for years. In your case, I could ask the jeweller to make you a broach or cufflink with the pearl embedding into it," she added coaxingly. And then, grasping the wrist of his hand holding the case, she gently closed his long, slender fingers around it with her other hand.
Harriet watched her husband endearingly as he stared at her small hand warmly cupping his larger one with an expression that closely resembled amazement. A yawn chose to erupt from her mouth at this instant.
"Well Mr. Malfoy, good night," Harriet bid with a smile, releasing his hand. Still speechless, Draco lifted his gaze and simply nodded once at her. Catching sight of his handsome face that was completely devoid of its perpetual mask for the first time, Harriet felt a sudden impulse. Giving in, Harriet swiftly leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. This caused Draco to freeze and widen his intense grey eyes in shock.
Before Draco could react further to her audacity, Harriet dropped to the mattress on her back and quickly turning to face the other side; she pulled the covers over her head to hide her blush of embarrassment.
Astounded, Draco felt his pale skin tingle where her soft lips had touched him. Slowly bringing his hand up to his face, Draco grazed the spot with his fingertips in daze while his gaze drifted towards blanketed form of his wife. Either Harriet had fallen asleep or she was extremely good at keeping still for a long time, because Draco caught no movement. A lengthy pause later, Draco moved to blow the candles out and then slowly reclined on the bed. Against Draco's better judgement, his head turned sideways and, with an emotion that felt alien to him, his silvery eyes stared at Harriet's silhouette in the shadowy, golden light provided by the burning embers in the fireplace, muted by the dark drapes enclosing the bed.
Needless to say, it took a long while for Draco to fall asleep. Just before Draco's eyes closed shut, sudden enlightenment dawned on him. 'Grandmother and I aren't the only ones who were affected by people's comments. Harriet must have been equally injured by them for her to give away the most precious object she possessed.'
It was lost on Draco that it wasn't exactly indicating towards the pearl.
Author's note: Poor, poor Draco!!!
Here is a kiss. Not exactly the one you were hoping for but see Harriet kissed Draco without any provocation. *Fireworks* They are a step closer to 'the kiss'.
And, I got that apple thing too; only I used wine this time to torment Draco. *slyly smirking*
To answer some of your questions,
Charlie: Yes, he will make an appearance. Since he is not a major character, I will reveal that he will get married soon.
Cedric: How can I forget him? I plan to drop him just in the middle of chaos. Have I piqued you interest? But know that it will not take place for some time.
Onto the historical clarifications then,
Modiste is the one who like a seamstress, just more aware of the women latest fashions. Someone that only wealthy could afford.
Marzipan is a confection that is made of almond meal and sugar. It is shaped into different forms like fruits, vegetables, and animals and painted with food colouring.
Because of the lack of understanding of viruses and such and therefore, proper medicines, it was highly possible for a simple cold to manifest into dangerous diseases that could cause eventual death. Being a nurse, Harriet would be quite aware of this fact than most. That is why she was horrified at Draco's stubborn resolve to endure the rain.
Bowood house and Gardens is actual place in Chippenham, Wiltshire. It is considered one of Wiltshire's greatest hidden treasures. I don't know whether the house and gardens were open to visitors (other than the family that owned to and their guests) at that time. I am just assuming it was. However, it is currently open to the visitors between April and November. I saw the pictures of the estate, guys; and they were truly exquisite.
Another thing, I did not mean any kind of offence to Stonehenge. This marvelous structure depicts the hard work of people who constructed it around 1800 B C. And it is the most greatly visited and studied place in England. My intention was only to show Draco of his un-intelligently planned course.
If you think I am bad for making Harry suffer, you will surely come to hate me for the problems I am going to throw at Harriet over the coming chapters. Don't worry though. I will also make Harriet strong enough to survive them.
Next half: I have changed the name from simple part 2 to Love troubles because---*evil smirk*