I paced in my room for minutes before I threw my hands up and put my mask on. There was no sense in letting myself feel trapped in my own bedroom at my own home. I walked down the hallways with butterflies in my heart, half hoping to run into him so we could resolve the argument before ending up in front of dozens of high-class society members.
No such luck arrived before I was on the third floor and the hum of chattering guests and glass clinking grew louder. I twisted my hands together as I approached one of the many entrances to the ballroom and coronation hall. The white gloves I was wearing were causing my hands to sweat even more as I passed through one of the open double doors and was floored by the amount of finely dressed and masked guests. The room was filled with cigar smoke that slowly dissipated at the colorful ceilings which were covered in paintings of venetian and renaissance figures. Beautiful lords and ladies and political figures floated around, many twirling in the center of the room to soft orchestic music, all dressed in huge gowns and low dress robes. Some women had huge heads of feathered crowns that stood several feet off of their hair, garnishing attention from across the room like a totem at a modern-day festival.
I tried to remain unremarkable as I stepped down the grand staircase on the left hand side, sliding my hand down the stone railing for support and hunching low. There were many, many steep stairs as it spanned the height of the third floor down to the first, normally meant to be a slow journey to introduce guests one by one. People who were hanging on the banister were forced to move as I nudged them aside rudely and I caught wind of scoffing in my wake. I had no interest in meeting and greeting with people until I'd located my husband and ensured his wellbeing, and I couldn't just walk down the center of the formal staircase or surely I'd be called out.
At the bottom I clung against the staircase newel and searched for the dark suit I'd seen him in earlier. He'd changed into all black and had a black mask on the last I had seen him, which was unhelpful in locating his figure to say the least. On top of that I couldn't count on spotting his bright platinum hair as many residents of the Italian and French coast had similar sun kissed locks.
"Champagne, mademoiselle?" A butler approached me with a silver tray and I took a tall flute from him quickly. I tapped my fingers on the glass as the beige fluid within bubbled aggressively to the surface in tiny spirals. I decided to make my way to my mother, who was situated against the back wall where many arched doorways in a row were open to the massive promenade deck facing the gardens and ocean. I had to go around the outside of the room to avoid the waltzing couples at the center.
My mother was entertaining at least thirty people when I approached, now sipping champagne like it was water. She was stringing a massive golden harp; the music drifted forlornly, telling the tale of a magical and enchanted world. Each pluck of the high pitched strings was rich and existential, and the crowd was piling up around her, drawn magnetically. Her movements were silky and practiced and her eyes were closed as she strummed. Her strawberry hair floated around her shoulders with magical static.
I watch with a partial smile at her beautiful gift to enchant others. It was as though nothing else existed in the world but the wonderment that she was as she played the captivating melody. Even as her daughter I was spellbound with the guests, incapable of resisting the Veela hypnotism. I realized as I watched her that when I danced it was the very same awe striking display.
When she had concluded the song she stood, shaking hands with some of the keener guests who flooded her immediately. She had spotted me minutes earlier but was held up, before she finally pulled me into a loving embrace.
"And 'ere she is, our precious Madeleine 'ome at last!" She announced around her. People began cooing and greeting me. Some I remembered from my younger years as individuals who worked with my father at the Ministry. I shook everyone's hands blankly, and received their kisses to my cheeks with grace. My grandmother and grandfather hugged me, my distant relatives, and even visitors I'd never met before. It was an hour of conversation and reception at least as I sat, drank wine with my mother and caught up with my previous life, all the while scanning for any of the men.
"Mmmm," My mother took a big drink of her wine in thought, "Lucas, 'e was looking for you." She eyed me through her turquoise mask in anticipation of some reaction.
"I don' want to see 'im," I said, feeling a knot form in my stomach thinking of Draco, lost somewhere in the villa or crying dramatically by himself. It wasn't that I abhorred the notion of seeing Lucas, but I had zero interest in causing more problems for my current relationship.
My mother put her golden glass down with a heavy thunk, clearly beyond acting mannerly, "We should find your father. You two should 'ave a dance, considering 'e missed your wedding." She patted my hand glumly.
I followed her to the promenade deck while executing my best effort not to step on the long train of her ballgown. She paused in one of the archways that led out onto the deck facing the ocean.
In the distance, four figures were crowded together against the stone balustrade, smoking. I squinted in the dim lighting of the tall lampposts. My father's voice was the first giveaway as my eyes adjusted.
Adaleus let out a belting laugh. He was in a pearly tuxedo that matched his straight white ponytail. "Son, you must understand. Women such as Madeleine and Charlot cannot be tamed. It is in deir very blood," he spoke his words extremely slowly in a booming voice, enunciating each syllable with emphasis. The thick cigar in his large fingers lit up the cheeky grin below his handlebar mustache.
I finally recognized Draco's form with his hand in his pocket, his watch glinting in the moonlight. The black mask was pushed up over his forehead causing his hair to shoot up awkwardly. He was keeping up an intense conversation with Adaleus, Éduin, and to my horror Lucas, all four of them smoking cigarettes.
"I could not agree more, Adaleus," Lucas said in his typical, arrogant, princely tone, "Madeleine in particular. It takes a strong man to 'andle her."
Draco eyes glittered dangerously from where he was across from Lucas. He blew smoke at the ground, "She doesn't need to be handled, if you just listen to what she needs." His eyes darted upwards at Lucas confrontationally. My mother poked me in amusement from where we were eavesdropping.
Adaleus who was evidently inebriated waved his hands outwards briefly to mimic a flying gesture, "Quite right, Draco. Dey are women of de Veela, dey must always fly freely. Otherwise, don' be surprised if it ends in flames." He clapped his hand down on Draco's thin shoulder ripping him sideways unsteadily.
Draco coughed uncomfortably, likely thinking back to how I'd nearly burnt down the Malfoy Manor. "She keeps me on high alert every day. I do everything just to keep her safe, but it's not always possible."
"Good boy," Adaleus shook Draco by the shoulder he had pinned under his heavy hold.
Éduin kicked at rubble on the stone hardscape with a chuckle, tugging on his cigarette through his parted lips. He pointed his two pinched fingers at Draco, "And dat, my friend, is de only reason you know 'er at all. Adaleus had to send her to England because she was so reckless at Beauxbatons. She 'as an incredible reputation for hazardous behavior in France."
I shook my head and crossed my arms. I didn't appreciate being placed under a microscope.
Lucas whistled loudly in agreement, implying he was recalling entertaining memories. He was dressed in all blue robes, his dirty-blond curls were perfectly tight to his head. He'd aged since I'd seen him last; his jaw line sharper, his skin more tanned, but the green of his eyes remained the same rich, forested hue. "Oh my, dat girl certainly is trouble." He cocked a taunting, angled gaze at Draco.
Draco crushed his cigarette in his fingers and let it crumble to the ground as he sneered at Lucas, who had absolutely no idea who he was dealing with. I watched contempt seeping across Draco's face, the lines between his eyebrows forming, his nose pulling back into a tight point. There was a familiar vicious glint forming in his blue eyes.
My mother broke the eavesdropping by crossing the deck rapidly. They all looked up as though caught in an act. I followed with my head held high, dragging my long dress behind me noisily. Draco's eyes lingered on me as we approached.
"Well," Charlot commanded in a creamy tone, taking my fathers cigar out of his fingers to puff on it, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you gentlemen were up to non good." She quirked one eyebrow around at the men before her assertively.
The air was crisp and fresh, yet still inviting against the ocean front. The endless sound of crashing waves and seals barking on the beach filled the air.
I floated to Draco's side and popped up onto my tip toes to kiss his cheek boldly, hanging onto his shoulder by my fingers. I had no idea how mad he still was from the argument earlier, but it was well worth the opportunity to ward Lucas away with public affection. I then coaxed his arm around my waist and leaned into him. He squeezed me against his side tightly and my breathing relaxed a little. I could smell the pine scent of his clothing and feel his strong fingers digging into my dress on my stomach. He smirked down at me smugly before I saw his eyes possessively flit up to Lucas.
Lucas sighed, his face pointed down towards mine. A few sprightly curls fell across his eyebrows "Madeleine. My god, et has been a eons. You've aged like a fine wine; perfection." He gave me a flirty grin and I felt the hand holding my waist stiffen.
"Lucas," I snarled back, "Enjoying your personal freedom?" Standing so near to him in that moment had me revisiting the unsettling breakup in my mind again. A minuscule flutter of pain and resentment reverberated in my chest.
His eyebrows raised as he glanced at Draco, "Are you? Not like our girl to disappear for two years without any explanation." An unpleasant silence clung to the air between the three of us. I mused at what he could possibly think was the cause of my absence - whatever it was, it wasn't good.
"Not your girl," Draco corrected darkly. Lucas shot him a very narrow expression.
Charlot peered around the tense circle as she puffed on the cigar, landing on Éduin who was laughing at the scenario before him. "Éduin, where ever is your fiancée?"
My brother chuckled, "Likely still getting ready. You know 'ow she prefers to make a late appearance." He flicked his dart out of his grasp aggressively into the gardens and sauntered towards the arched doorways leading to the ballroom. He was gone, and slowly we all followed.
Before we could re-enter the building Draco held me back. He tilted his head to the side, "I'm sorry Madeleine, for earlier." It came out almost as a whisper. He inhaled deeply and shut his eyes, and finally the vulnerability showed up again in the agony of his new gaze, "I have to find a format to channel my jealousy. This is still new to me."
I ran my fingers along his hairline and down his jaw, "I'm sorry too, Draco. Just let me know what I can do to make it easier." A slow, genuine smile spread across his face as he pushed his forehead into mine. The mask on his head almost fell off entirely. Our breaths mingled as we leaned into each other.
The sweet taste of his lips danced partially against mine, "I'd do anything for you, Madeleine. I love you, so much." He breathed it against my mouth, his eyes closed. I pushed our noses together, knowing my feelings matched his. Our emotions burned between us and I could feel the tangle of his fingers in my dress again. His soft lips pressed against mine just barely before we were interrupted.
"Madeleine, Draco, come. It's time to dance!" My mother called from the entrance where she'd just reappeared, swinging a new bottle of wine in her dainty fingers. She was an absolute menace, the same as me.
Back inside of the ballroom the guests had shoved themselves against the perimeter of the room, chattering loudly and drinking from golden glasses. The bright blue and pink tiling in the center of the room glittered under the crystal chandeliers on the ceiling, now completely visible. My father stood in the center of the room with his white mask down over his face and hand out towards me. I crossed the floor with every pair of eyes on me feeling my face burning. My back prickled with the scrutinizing attention, and it didn't help that my vision was narrowed by the golden masquerade mask.
When the sinfonietta began playing my father guided me with expert form and my dark green dress fanned out around us like an unraveling flower. After a few moments my mother decided to drag Draco onto the floor. I saw through rotations that he was frowning in hilarity through the black mask at how giddy and giggly she was, pulling him at a rapid pace through the waltz. Éduin emerged with his fiancée Gianetta, who had curly, dark brown hair and a bright yellow dress on. The rest of the guests began swarming the center to join and soon the room was awash with a flurry of swirling fabrics.
When Lucas tapped on my father's shoulder to take his place I groaned in frustration. It would be completely unsophisticated and inappropriate to reject him during a ball setting. My father's mustache twitched as he kissed my forehead and passed my gloved hand to Lucas'. My eyes darted all around me anxiously as I let him begin tugging me into the waltz. He pulled on my waist sharply and I shot towards him.
"Lucas, why can't you accept dat I am married?" I whispered hoarsely as we danced elegantly. My hair blew around me as he spun me.
He had a mischievous smirk on his handsome face, "Something is not right wit' dis Malfoy boy. I will find out what what dat is, and I won't rest until I do."
I grimaced as he lifted our arms over my head and twirled me in a pinpoint. "Nothing is wrong wit' him. You're de one acting strange," I argued back, "Please just accept dat I have moved on."
He shook his head, "He's forcing you into something. What was dis accident dat 'appened? Where 'ave you been for two years? I sent owls to 'ogwarts only for dem to come right back." He was clearly not going to accept subtle details. He now had a serious, concerned tone to his voice.
I pressed my lips together as I considered his stance. While it was unwanted now, his worry about me would've been greatly desired only months ago when I awoke from my coma. He obviously still harbored romantic feelings for me. And his wariness was not unwarranted; Draco was a Death Eater. He'd allowed quite a lot of terror and violence to occur in my life as a result of his family's situation, dragging me deep into the center of the English Wizarding war and demanding unprecedented strength from me to endure it all by his side. And it was truly bizarre and troubling that I had gone missing with no contact for two years, only to reappear married.
I gaped, trying to find words as my mind spun with the dance. Finally I just swallowed as he bent me backwards traditionally, "Lucas, I wanted to disappear. I 'ad my reasons. Please trust me dat nothing is going on." He stared down at me with his rainforest green eyes peering through his blue mask.
Other couples were straightening out again to continue dancing but he held me down, "I never should 'ave left you Madeleine. It is my greatest burden to date." I inhaled sharply as he bared his heart to me, suddenly helpless if he tried to kiss me.
"How unfortunate a mistake. She's married now - don't you think that's a good point throw in the towel?" I heard Draco say from behind Lucas. Lucas finally let me stand straight and I practically ran to Draco who wrapped his arm around my shoulders protectively. He was standing there like a stone sculpture, stiff and barely composing his anger.
Lucas was breathing just as rapidly and I feared there would be a brawl right there in the center of the masquerade dancers. Finally he just bowed to me to dismiss the dance and disappeared in between the guests around us.
Draco looked down at me through his mask, "Did he upset you? What a fucking prick that guy is." He rolled his eyes as he took my hands and pulled me close to him to dance. I looked up at him with relief and adoration and he smirked down at me.
"I thought waltzing wit' me was dangerous," I teased as he spun me gracefully. His fingers lingered low past my waist as the chemistry between us grew thick like an invisible cloud. I wanted to kiss his perfect lips and I could see the same was in his eyes by the way they hovered on my chest and collarbones.
"That was before...before we both caved to it. I knew it would happen eventually. I thought it would be better if we tried to stay as emotionally separated as possible until the war was over." He leaned in close to me and our cheeks brushed against each other's as the music slowed and we clung tighter together. "I was trying to protect you. You know I have to keep erasing these memories until it's over - I hate to leave you alone with our love."
I laughed light heartedly, "Oh how thoughtful of you to reject me for my own wellbeing." Then my mood quickly dampened as I thought more about it.
He was right. My heart suddenly felt like it was dipped in acid as I realized when we were back in England all of his memories and emotions - whatever amount of each he decided to retain of the weekend - would be sealed away in a glass vial and he would return to his blank Death Eater self. And I would be left feeling more deeply in love than ever before, completely isolated with it, and back with the Order on the farm.
I felt tears pricking at my eyes as he moved with me gently, kissing my throat in the dim ballroom. "Will you ever really be able to stop obliviating?" I asked in a pixy voice, knowing he could tell I was starting to cry from my strangled tone.
He sighed and pulled back, frowning at my tears with his bright blue eyes. His thumb trailed my cheek to brush the tiny droplets away that were emerging from my mask, "Like I said, when it's over, I'll stop." He brought me into a bear hug and squeezed me, "Don't cry right now. Enjoy this time with your family. You want to go get some wine?"
I laughed sadly into his shoulder, "You're encouraging me to drink? Since when?"
He started walking, lacing our fingers together as we wove between dancing people, "Since we're here in France, with your family. It's up to you."
We spent another thirty or so minutes drinking casually with my family on the sidelines. I could tell they were fond of Draco; Adaleus even started to joke with him which was unheard of. It was like it had always been at the Villa de la Desrosiers; cheerful, social and unstructured. The night flowed like a river down an embankment, choosing randomized twists and turns as it felt so inclined.
Éduin eventually stood and stretched, downing an entire glass of whiskey which earned a scoff from my mother. He breathed out a painful exhale, "Shall the children retire to my personal quarters for some after affairs? Games and that sort." He gave Lucas a sharp shove of encouragement as Gianetta and a few other girls Lucas had invited began gathering their shawls from the table.
"Draco and I will pass," I said, speaking the words we were both thinking. I swirled my red wine around much too hastily and little flecks of it sprouted from the glass rim onto the table cloth. I was drunk, very drunk, and not interested in further dramatics. Beside me Draco was in a similar state with watery, glazed eyes as he watched the younger crowd prepare to leave together. Adaleus had not hesitated to consistently push more whiskey at him and now he was pressing his left palm into his mouth as he hiccupped. His right hand was on my upper thigh under the table - it was obvious that we were both eager to get back to my room and rip off our clothing instead of further socializing.
Éduin raised his eyes at us judgmentally, "Oh no no, petite one. If you are only going to come home every two years, you 'ad better be prepared to give me a very late, very drunken evening of indecencies wit' you. Come on now, up wit' both of you." He raised his gloved hand repeatedly to gesture for us to stand. We begrudgingly pushed back our chairs, hugged my parents good bye, and followed my brother to his fifth floor bedroom which faced the porte co·chère.