The next morning I peered through heavily hooded eyes at the bright, sunny day starting to thrive outside of the manor. For once, it wasn't raining and I felt a stab of short-lived excitement for spring time. Outside of the glass I could see a massive garden below, and just beyond that orchards that looked very well-established.
I was alone in Malfoy's raven colored bed again, still in the silver party slip. My eyes drifted down to where I'd left the mess of clothing cut up the night before, expecting it to still be piled carelessly at the foot of his desk. There were indeed marks in the floor where I had been slicing haphazardly, but the fabric was all missing. I frowned at the fact that he'd actually sabotaged all those hours of effort.
I didn't see him for the entire day, assuming he was out in the world doing horrible and wicked things to innocent people. I felt dead inside from the night before when I was reminded of my drunken decision to threaten both myself and Malfoy to take my life. My depression at the world that I now lived in had peaked, and instead of crying I stared at the ceiling for hours numbly. I laid in the bed until well-past noon and refused to eat when a small female elf named Lippy appeared with food. At three in the afternoon I finally pushed myself to get out of bed to drag myself into his luxurious bathroom.
I stood frowning around the room, realizing I hadn't snooped as much as I should have. As the bath water ran I tugged at various heavy drawers. He had all manners of expensive and exotic looking products. Everything was psychotically and precisely organized into perfect rows and I mused if he was some sort of perfectionist or had a compulsive disorder. There was one drawer that seemed oddly empty, and I quickly realized from the remaining items that this was likely filled with razors and scissors prior to the night before. Of course - he wouldn't trust me again around anything sharp. The foolish display had done nothing but hinder my basic freedom to take my own life or wield a sharp weapon at a later date.
I busied myself with reading a few chapters of a historical book on ancient magical Britain which turned out to bore me greatly after only an hour. I spent most of the day mapping out the Manor once again, trying all of the locked doors, and wandering around the library for some time. It was nearly six at night when I heard a gentle knock on the door that caused my heart to slowly burn with anxiety.
I stood from the bed and fidgeted with my hands, not sure what to expect. Malfoy never felt the need to knock, probably because it was his own room, so who was requesting an invitation?
When I childishly ignored the third knock the heavy black door swung open apprehensively, and I was greeted by an elderly man and Narcissa behind him. They floated into the room with confidence and Narcissa shut the door, not moving much farther in. The elderly gentleman was well dressed, businesslike in a grey suit and tie, and his extremely long white beard was braided down the front of his chest.
He set a briefcase down on the desk while I stood now trembling by the post of the bed, unsure of what was going on. My fingers clung to the wood of the post defensively. Narcissa cut through my racing mind with a singsong tone, "Sit, Madeleine. Dr. Hallewell is our family physician. Draco has asked he look at your scars from the accident."
My eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them. The man stepped forward with an air of authority and gestured to the bed behind me, one hand behind his back and the other forward gracefully, "I suppose she would not remember me from last year. Draco has informed me that she was obliviated by the rebellion. Most unfortunate...that he has to start all over with her."
Narcissa looked to me with her lips pressed into a hard line in confirmation. I sat gingerly on the bed and the doctor grabbed the briefcase, approached me and knelt down. He lifted my leg up first so he could inspect the numerous white scars from the car shattering against the guard rail, then moved to my arms, nodding approvingly, "Nothing at all to worry about, Narcissa. Everything here can be cleared today."
He pulled at my face then, his large thumb rubbed against the line down my jaw. I shut my eyes, dreading the moment when he brought up the fresh knife mark across my neck but it never came.
"You will need to sit very still for me, girl. This will burn." I felt a blistering pain begin to form in a line on my leg and I clenched my jaw shut to resist screaming, shoving my eyes into my palms. His wand was pointed at one scar against my calf as he muttered quietly under his breath. It went on like that for almost an hour, intricate and obscenely slow. I felt dizzy and shocked from the horrible experience by the time he stood, huffing loudly from having been bent for so long. It had been invasive and I was now in my underwear standing and clinging to the post of the bed.
They left without any words of comfort or reassurance, clicking the door behind them. It was now half past seven and I ran to the bathroom to inspect the work that had just been completed. The doctor had indeed done a very good job; my skin was now flawless as ever.
Because my life had no actual structure and I preferred to present myself to Malfoy irrationally I put on a new dress, picking out a fancy gown with long sleeves that made no sense for a night in. It was bright white and covered in small sparkles, and I felt drawn to the long lacy neck line that reached to my jaw. I brushed my hair out and wondered back and forth in the room like a bride at her wedding, waiting for Malfoy to come back so I could grill him with more questions about my life before the war.
When nine had come and gone I began to harbor animosity that he didn't respect the same curfew he'd given me. I shoved open the door to his room intending to go dance alone in the ballroom to relieve some of the pent up tension I was feeling.
I was just stepping out onto the third floor landing when I ran into him, barefoot and in an inappropriate dress once again. His hair was slicked back this time and he was dressed in a long black coat and dress clothing. He had a black bowtie on instead of his typical tie and I raised an eyebrow at him mirroring his own inquisitorial expression.
I saw his piercing gaze run down my bare legs with appreciation, "Hallewell was here. Good. And where were you going just now? Am I going to find another chaotic scene in my room?" He gave me a blank look, tilting his head only slightly.
I crossed my arms, "Non. Why are you dressed like dat?" I pointed at his bow and his eyes drifted down in vain to where it was tightly around his neck below his sharp jaw.
He smirked at me, his nose pulling tight on one side, "You want to dress me the next time I leave the house? This look isn't to your preference?" He stepped forward and closed the gap between us, and I could suddenly feel his breath on my face as he leered down at me.
I sighed up at him. He never gave me straight answers. As I went to move past him his hand shot out and clamped hard on my wrist, spinning me to face him again, "We have guests here. After the events of last night it's come to my attention that you need more socializing." He ran his blue eyes down my body and stopped at my bare toes, "We need to dress you accordingly and be back downstairs, promptly."
Without anymore explanation he elected to drag me back up to his room and shut the door behind us. I pouted by the bed, annoyed with the way that the Malfoy's enjoyed drawing me throughout the house writhing in their painful grasps.
"Who es here? Death Eaters?" I spat it with distaste as he turned around from my wardrobe and tossed a long black dress at me. It was basic but there was a huge bow on the back at least.
"Something like that. Old friends." He shrugged and went to his own wardrobe to drag out items.
I took his distracted state as an opportunity to gallop to the bathroom and shut the door. I changed away from his prying eyes and when I re-emerged he was changed as well. The bow around his neck remained however.
He was looking at an odd contraption on his wrist, his eyebrows furrowed. It was a dial of sorts with all kinds of glowing numbers and spinning movements. I walked up to him to peer at it and his eyes lifted to mine, "It's a military watch. I pulled it off of a dead muggle - it serves it's purposes."
He surprised me when he held it out to me and I took his hand in mine to peer down at it, trying to banish the notion that he'd probably murdered someone for it. It was black and bulky on his thin wrist; an assortment of information could be drawn from it ranging from the time of day, the day of the week, elevation above sea level, a compass... I could feel his eyes watching my face as I spun his wrist to watch the numbers and dials change with the motion.
His breath was heavy as he exhaled, "We are going to have to do our duties tonight, after we entertain our visitors." He was studying my reaction for any trace of hysteria, icy blue orbs like lasers on my face.
His hand slipped out of mine and I felt it wrap around my waist, inching me closer to him. I scowled and pushed against his chest belligerently, "You just said later."
He gave me a sly grin, "Of course. And you hopefully will not give me trouble later about it, Madeleine." I opened my mouth, insulted at his lack of chivalry. He tugged at my waist again so that our faces were inches apart, and I turned mine away to the side with shut eyes.
I hadn't really thought about what was coming for that evening until that moment. I'd only been intimate with him the first night and had managed to avoid the thought since.
He let me go and turned away from me. I watched as he pointed his wand at his desk and a drawer slid open, allowing for a small glass vial to lift out. He pinched it in his fingers and turned it over as though it was his first time eyeing it. The liquid inside swirled with golden shimmers.
"And what es dat? Are you going to drug me?" I barked and stomped my foot like a child.
He laughed and the genuine sound of his gentle voice made my heart flutter, "I've never once drugged you. You have quite the predilection for inebriation all on your own." I knew he was right about that; I'd always been wild at parties and consistently taken things way too far.
He eyed me with his head tilted back, his eyes hooded as if reconsidering his proposition, "I am simply going to offer you this. It's a euphoric drug. This is not to be confused as kindness - it is a tradeoff for tonight, for your word that you won't drink any alcohol." He pressed his mouth together looking serious, and I figured he had been highly unimpressed by my drunken state the evening before.
He leaned near to me and closed it into my fist, his breath was on my neck as he whispered in my ear, "Take it, or don't. Just don't let Fawley convince you to drink anything, or I'll have both of your heads." Who was Fawley? I thought utterly bemused.
I tightened my hand around the glass but shook my head. It felt like a trap, "I will not take et unless you take et." My eyes were stern as I returned his gaze. Of course, I was bluffing. If we were to perform our routine again later than I would most certainly be taking it. I'd seen what it had done to him the first time and it looked promising.
He sighed and rubbed his face with one hand, an amused laugh escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes, "It's not poisoned. Don't be daft."
I shrugged then, intending to present as much of a challenge as possible, "Den I suppose Fawley will be generous enough to get me through de night." His laugh vanished then, replaced by a venomous glare. Whoever Fawley was, apparently they didn't get along, and I wondered why he had invited them in the first place.
I watched as he drew another vile with the same shimmery gold liquid from the desk, uncorked it and downed it in front of me. He exhaled through tight lips and shut his eyes as it hit him, "You are the paragon of an irritant." He hissed and I blanked at the expensive wording.
"You will drink that right now, as you have forced me to drink one," he commanded as his eyes opened again and I noticed his pupils had dilated to a fully blackened state.
I unfurled my fingers and glanced down at the potion. I inhaled sharply and chugged it back as well. It burned as it slithered down my throat with the promise of an altered state of mind. And with that he shoved me ahead of him into the hallway and then we made our way down to the first floor, his hand never far from the small of my back.