After a long time of weeping and hugging, my family had calmed down enough to avert their attention to Draco who had respectfully stood aside while they pulled at my hair and face, held me in their arms and asked me questions about my general health. They were incredibly concerned about how thin I had become, but relatively pleased all things considered I had survived a life threatening accident.
My mother finally spun to Draco and held her arms out, coaxing him forwards by one shoulder. His eyes were completely wide as she pressed his body to hers and pet his hair, then kissed both of his cheeks, "Oh, le bel homme! So 'andsome! Madeleine!" She turned to me with a squeal of approval, Draco still twisted in her bold grasp like a petrified toy. I chewed on my lip with a grin, knowing he was not acclimatized to physical touch at all, much rather from people he didn't know. He stared at me as though to beg for help.
My mother patted him roughly one more time on his cheek causing his face to swing slightly as she backed away to retrieve the fabric she'd dropped on the floor, and his skin blossomed with a rosy, embarrassed color. I could tell she'd been having afternoon wine as she normally did early on Saturdays and as a result she was known to be overtly friendly and giggly, much like myself. She was utterly gorgeous with her dripping green eyes and bright rose-colored hair and we could all smell her sweet perfume from well across the room.
"Charlot, Madeleine, you must excuse Draco and I. Et es time for de men to chat," my father said as he smacked Draco in the back with a firm hand and my heart fluttered with mild panic. Adaleus was the French Minister for a reason; he was inquisitorial, intelligent and lethal when necessary. He had come from a line of royalty and exercised no hesitation in his speech. He'd always interrogated boys I brought home aggressively, searching for weaknesses, lying or imperfections. Draco's eyes met mine briefly with concern before my mother was beckoning me out of the room.
"Wait," I said, tugging out of Charlot's hand. I ran to Draco and jumped into him. I hugged him tightly around his neck, kissing his cheek. His fingers feebly held my waist, probably cowering under the stare of Adaleus behind me. "I love you," I whispered in his ear.
"Awwh regarde ça Adaleus, go easy on dis' one," Charlot cooed from the doorway where she was now leaning, her fingers against her lips.
He gave me a reassuring nod, "Me too. I'll see you later." He let me slip away, hardly turning to watch me leave. I wouldn't be shocked if he was flat-out terrified by Adaleus.
As we walked down the sunny hall my mother had her arm draped around my neck, babbling about who we could invite for the evening. My parents had always been extreme socialites. I wouldn't be surprised if they invited half of France to come and see me. My nerves were beginning to soar and my face was hot as I realized how risky it all was, "Can-can we wait? I don' think I can 'andle a lot of people right now."
She paused in her stride, her ballet-pink dress clutched in her hand with her wine bottle, "Madeleine, since when do you not like to entertain? You are always de center of attention." She pet my hair as worry spread across her bronze face, "What 'as 'appened? Mon fille, 'ave you been hurt?"
I wanted to scream about how much I had been hurt. About the Order and their abusive captivity of me, about the early days with the Malfoy's, the skeletons I had been forced to witness rotting away before my eyes, meeting the dark lord in person, the pressure of spying on Harry Potter... She had no idea how bad it was in England. She especially wouldn't begin to comprehend why Draco was in the middle of everything with a dark mark on his arm. But one thing was obvious; she knew I had been hurt in some way. She was my mother, naturally.
I weighed my options and realized that I had to be strong and assuring. I had to match the strength that Draco was likely enacting in that very moment with Adaleus, just so I could go home and see my family again. I couldn't put his life in jeopardy. Coming to France was the most selfless thing he could have possibly done for me.
I sighed and swung her arms in mine, "What about a masquerade? To take off pressure of so many faces. I 'ave not seen people in a long time. England is too unstable right now."
Her eyebrows quirked at the notion, "Un bal masqué? Oui, oh ce magnifique!" She followed me to my room on the fifth floor which was a very long walk, catching me up on their lives over the years. My brother Éduin had graduated Beauxbatons and gone on to run an entire laboratory for Herbological research. He was highly successful in his field and had brought honor to our family already at the ripe age of nineteen. He was engaged to a beautiful Italian girl. My mother noted that it was interesting how we'd both chosen international pureblood partners and I momentarily frowned, knowing I hadn't really chosen Draco. He'd just been lucky that I'd eventually fallen in love with him.
At my door she clasped her hands, putting down the wine bottle, and I had a horrible flashback of Narcissa. "Lucas 'as been asking about you, Madeleine. 'e is quite suspicious, dat' boy. I don' know dat' 'e ever got over you," she jabbed me in the arm teasingly and I scowled.
"Well, forget it. I've moved on." I knew she could read through my tough front as she half rolled her eyes. I was still bitter at the fact that he'd broken up with me so suddenly. I had never been broken up with and it had scarred deeply. Not to mention that in my head it hadn't even been more than a few months of new memories since then.
"Why don' you settle in an' get changed, and we can catch up tonight. I will arrange for a masquerade as you so desire. I want to dance wit' dat stunning boy of yours." She kissed me on my forehead multiple times and hugged me, then she was wondering away, dragging the lavender fabric with her and swigging from her wine like a wild angel.
My room had always been the closest corner to the ocean. I sat on a dark blue chaise as the white curtains blew dreamily around me, far too many than were necessary hung there to create a symphony of fabric waving in the wind. The smell of the ocean was rich and the sound of the waves crashing hummed peacefully and rhythmically.
It was now dark outside, save for the lampposts dotted throughout the expansive Renaissance gardens. Fear had begun to almost completely take over as I thought about where Draco was in the mansion and if he'd survived my father's intimidating nature. My heart was pounding rapidly as I tried to calm myself by digging through old and beautiful jewelry that had been passed down to me as relics.
I had changed in anticipation of the masquerade. The ball would surely be the only way to satisfy my parents need to celebrate my return while still maintaining Draco's relative safety. There was no way to tell who would be attending. Nor was I aware of how well-known the identities of English Death Eaters were in France. I figured if he could hide behind the mask then his appearance would be one less factor that might make him recognizable besides the obvious; his name. My new name.
I had darned a dark emerald green dress with very long draping sleeves that hung pointedly and far past my hands. The bust faded into little twisting branches and leaves around my collarbones in the highly decorative design. I had stuck tiny golden feathers into my hair that I'd inherited from my grandmother. Nearby on the chaise, a matching gold mask with the same gold feathers sat watching me as though sentient and judgmental of my anxiety.
I had almost reached my limit of waiting around when I heard my door creak open and my brother and Draco entered the room, talking in French. I nearly fell out of my chair when I heard his perfect fluency.
Éduin looked courtly as ever in his white ball robes, almost as though he had just walked straight out of the 1700's. His dark, dirty blond hair was straight until it curled just below his ears. His amber eyes were following Draco with a delighted glint and they were both laughing. I stood and marched over towards them, garnishing a pause in their dialogue.
Both of their eyes took in my formal appearance that I'd had way too much time to work on. Draco started to speak before I cut him off rudely, "Wow, you're gorg-"
"You can speak French!" I shouted in irritation. "All dis time?" I pushed him ever so lightly on his chest and he frowned, clearly insulted.
Éduin chuckled down at me in his throaty Parisian accent, and then to my annoyance gave Draco a reassuring grin, "Oh mon dieu, de attitude of dis one will never get old. Come here Madeleine, I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see you again." He pulled me into a hug as though it would douse my flames. I turned my head sideways to glare at Draco like a wronged child as my brother rubbed my back.
"Why do you care?" Draco riveted back at me. He had crossed his arms defensively after being pushed and his blue eyes were glittering.
Éduin wasted no time being the brat he was. He suddenly pushed me across into Draco who had no choice but to unfurl his arms and catch me, "Aha! De spark between you two et es, how you say, incendiary? So fantastique. Draco Malfoy, I will catch you later my friend." He simply
poked me on my nose teasingly and then was gone from my room.
I looked up at Draco from the slant that he had caught me, "Why didn't you tell me before?" My voice was grumpy as I said it, knowing I was probably overreacting. My fingers tangled in his dress shirt.
He smirked provocatively at me. "It's hilarious listening to you talk when you think I can't understand. And that little accent of yours...drives me wild." He bent down and kissed me at the angle he was holding me, and I had an overwhelming sense of what it was like to be a fairytale princess. My arms wrapped around his neck and pulled at his long hair gently.
When he finally straightened me I felt literally dizzy, clinging to his shoulder. "Éduin is fond of you, I see," I said as I tugged my dress back into place and corrected a high heel.
"Hmm, he's an interesting bloke," Draco shrugged, his eyes trailing on my face eagerly as I revised my clothing. I could tell he'd fallen deeply again; he wasn't even trying to hide his interest and I could see it from the corners of my eyes. After not obliviating any happy memories in a longer than usual time, it was allowing his warm personality to seep out of the cracks of the Death Eater armor. My heart was aching already knowing he would not be the same boy again for some time afterwards.
I turned to him seriously and took his jaw in both my hands, "What did Adaleus say?"
He reached up and pulled at my wrists to lower my arms, "Adaleus didn't check my memories. He took my word on everything; just asked my stance on monogamy and my idea of family principles." Draco didn't appear to be at all nervous or affected. His eyes were calm as he looked back into mine.
I burst out laughing suddenly, and hysterically fell into him. He swayed backwards with the onslaught of energy, steadying me with a bemused look on his face, "What could possibly be so funny right now?"
I gave him a sly grin, "Did you tell 'im dat I'm de only girl you've ever been wit'?"
He smiled faintly, looking uncomfortable, "Not as if that's something to be ashamed of. Would you rather I'd slept around before you?" The question felt like a personal jab at me from the moment it left his lips. A tiny shiver of embarrassment went down my spine as I considered how many boyfriends I'd had prior to our engagement.
My own smile faded, "No, not at all." I bit my lip hoping he wouldn't bring up my own past indecencies. I turned to pick up my golden mask from the chaise by the breezy windows, floating away.
He huffed, shaking his head. I could see him dancing on the edge of the topic as I moved around the room preparing to leave. Finally he decided to simply stab the beast, "What about this Lucas guy? Apparently he's coming here tonight." He hung around in the center of the room with his eyebrows raised, waiting as I collected and threw a black mask at him to wear.
I sighed and groaned in aggravation, "I don' want to talk about Lucas. I'm 'ere wit' you." My eyes danced out over the glittering surface of the water from the tall, open window by the ocean. My hair blew away from my face with the sweet stench of the ocean tides smashing into the seawall and rocks.
Draco sounded equally as annoyed, "Be that as it may, Éduin made it very clear that Lucas wants to converse with you. Seems a little unfair that we never discuss your past. Is there anything I need to know?"
"Why don' you just take et from my eyes like you did last time?" I tempted, twirling to look at him.
His eyebrows knit together menacingly and for a moment I worried he would actually use Occlumency against me. He remained still, "I want to hear it from you."
I growled and stomped my foot, "What es to say dat' you don' already know? I was wit' him for a year. We broke up when I left for England."
He nearly didn't let me finish speaking, "Was he your first?" There was a dangerous flash in his eye.
I gasped at his jealousy with a half-hearted laugh, "No, certainly not. As though it would even matter. I 'ave you now."
It was awkward as I watched his pretty face twist in disgust, "Certainly not? How many, then?" So we'd come to it. He'd finally pried into the topic of my kill count and I'd walked myself right to the end of the plank all on my own.
I slumped into the chaise and bent my arm over my eyes as my cheeks began to burn. A lump in my throat was insinuating that answering him at all would only end badly. I swallowed, unable to look at him. "It really doesn't matter, Draco," I piped in a squeaky voice.
He came and sat on the chaise with me. My huge green dress swallowed his body next to me as he leaned over me and removed my arm from covering my vision. There was an overpowering understanding that both of our hearts were aching in the moment. I stared at him through hooded eyes, wishing he would just drop the pointless topic. His nose flared as he fought to compose himself, "It matters. To me." I could see his fist clenching anxiously in my dress.
I forced myself to exhale deeply. "Maybe six? I don' know. It's all in de past now." I waved my arm awkwardly as my voice came out hoarsely, and all I could do was stare at the stars over the ocean. I knew it wasn't even bad, but Draco Malfoy was not your average husband. He'd saved himself religiously for losing his virginity and apparently never cheated, leaving me as the inevitable bad guy.
"What?" He snarled in disbelief, "You were seventeen. Was there some prize for first place slut?" His eyes narrowed on me as though seeing me in a new light.
I sat up defiantly and pointed my polished finger nail in his face "Don' you dare! You don' get to judge me. You would've done de same if it weren't for de bequeathment mark."
His eyes rested on my finger mere inches from his nose, "I have little bit more class than that. And I had plenty of opportunities as well Madeleine, mark or not. I waited for the right girl. I've never needed anything else." He stood judgmentally and my eyes began watering at the pain on his face. He couldn't possibly understand how insignificant my previous partners were. He'd only been with me - having no other experiences to compare.
I struggled to find a way to draw a parallel between our two worlds. His family was extremely monogamous, mine was a little more modern. In his reactive state he wasn't even considering our upbringings and the influences we'd had. He'd been taught that monogamy was imperative to marriage and bloodline stability. He'd been taught to literally marry the girl he lost his innocence to. I however, was not taught such intensities.
I fumbled nervously, "Draco, I love you. I've never loved anyone like dis before. Please, listen to me." I reached for his hand but he yanked it away from my fingers. He strode across the room and slammed the door behind him. Where he was going was beyond me, perhaps to the ball. If he could even find his way there in the monstrous villa.
I sighed in defeat and rested my head between my knees, fighting the urge to cry. He would get over it, he just needed some space to breath.