Chapter Eighteen - The Beautiful Ones
OMIGOD. Guess who's gonna be published in late November? *grins* Anyone willing to buy my book? It's a bit more than I want it to be price-wise (gag) ($12.95 or around there), but... hey. *grin* I love you forever? Once it's up at Amazon.com, I'll post the link. Guess that means I'll have to keep writing this story for another two or three months, eh? I have no problem with it.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I'm done.
Aimée
---
One week later, Draco and I found ourselves back on the Hogwarts Express, this time heading back to the wizarding school for the second term. We waved goodbye to his parents as the train departed, our hands clasped and grim expressions on both our faces. Lucius Malfoy had owled Professor Snape the day before, explaining the situation, and had requested that no one else, save Professor Dumbledore, know. Our wish for a separate room away from the other Slytherins was granted, although was only applicable during the last few months of our sixth year at Hogwarts.
As the train departed from the platform, I stretched out across the bench seat in our otherwise empty compartment, laying my head in his lap. Almost unconsciously, his fingers began to play with my long dark hair even before words were spoken between the two of us.
"Do we tell anyone?"
The question came in the form of his words, but was also weighing heavily on my mind. I had been considering the different possibilities for quite a while now, but I hadn't the courage to voice my opinions before he had asked.
"No," I stated quietly, listening to the harsh sounds of the train's wheels. "There's too much of a risk involved… I don't want your reputation tarnished, nor do I want Blaise to even think about getting any ideas."
"If she does anything…" Draco paused for a moment, his gray eyes distant. "I'll kill her."
I sighed, knowing his words to speak more than his actions ever would. "She's too cowardly to try anything, don't worry. Besides, I have to believe she respects marriage, no matter how much she hates me."
"I hope so," Draco spoke quietly, his eyes now gazing into my own. "My father once told me there was little pride and respect in being a Slytherin to all of those who never realized pride and respect was what Slytherin was all about. I never knew what he meant by that until the first time Potter and Weasley taunted me about being one."
"What does it mean?" I asked sleepily as my eyes started to slowly close.
"It means even if no one else understands what we feel, as long as we still have pride and respect for what we do, it doesn't matter. It means that even if no one else understands or approves of why the two of us are together and why we've made the decisions we have, it is insignificant as long as we have pride in everything we do, respect in each other, and thankfully love one another for who we are and what we will become." He took in a deep breath, his eyes still locked on my own. "It doesn't matter was Blaise says or does; we are true Slytherins, and in being so, we come first, not some Irish half-blood whore."
I grinned in spite of myself, tracing a pattern on the palm of his hand. "She's a half-blood, is she? She always insisted she was a pureblood."
"Her family, back in Voldemort's first reign, was targeted immediately after the Potters were. I'm sure she doesn't know this—only a select few were chosen to go through with the murders, and no one else ever found out."
"So your father is a Death Eater," I said quietly, not at all surprised in his admittance. "Do you plan on following in his footsteps?"
"No," Draco spoke firmly, squeezing my hand and turning his head to gaze out the window. "I promised you I would never become one of them, and I intend on keeping my word. If you or"—he turned back towards me and reached out to touch my stomach lightly—"our children are ever threatened, however, I will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety."
"As will I," I promised, sleep finally winning as I closed my eyes and fell into a deep oblivion.
That night, as we ate a large dinner in the Great Hall, Draco and I spoke only to one another, ignoring the inquiries of our housemates. Once Crabbe and Goyle failed to receive an answer from their leader's lips, the rest soon realized they were even less likely to succeed.
What followed was a routine we had both done countless times before, yet that night was the first time we dared to notice. We sat in front of the fire, in one of the best chairs, curled up together and staying perfectly silent. Few words were required between us, and even as cliché as it sounds, I could tell what his every thought was. It may have been the intense amounts of magic flowing between us or the addition amount supplied to me from our child, but as we sat there, a sort of radiance of power overcame us, making each student in the common room glance our way in awe at least once during the night. Together, we were powerful, and together, we knew it.
It was well past midnight when the two of us finally stood from our comfortable seat, tired and more than willing to go to sleep. The question hung between us, however, one that should have been simple to answer:
Should we act as all married couples and sleep in the same bed, assured by the other's presence, or should we remain as most students would: separate only when not having sex?
Draco answered the question rather abruptly, taking my hand in his and leading me up towards his own dorm, where Crabbe, Nott, and Goyle lay, hopefully sound asleep. My trunk, by the instructions from Professor Snape, had been placed in the boy's dormitories and two beds had—rather discretely—been pushed together, forming a large one that comfortably fit the two of us. It had been shoved into a corner, so the size was not evident upon first inspection.
Before I fell asleep that night, I allowed Draco to place his hand once more over his son, one who was now almost three months along. I thanked God my robes were loose and flowing, as some parts of my school uniform were already too tight to wear.
---
canihavea-soda: Where have you been? I've missed you! LOL, yes, Lucius fainted, in true Lucius form (I have a rather low image of him, but he's cool nonetheless). Nah, I don't write well, but thanks. You're 19? That ain't old! My father's my agent (by law) right now, so I'm sorta stuck. At least he knows what's good for me. *grin*
Fire: Oy. *yawn* Me tired.
Jade: You psychotic Landon!whore! *grin* I mean that in the best possible way and you know it. Thank you so much, dear, for all those wonderful reviews. You deserve a BIG hug.
Jilly-chan: Why, thank you :o) I can assure you, you won't be disappointed... a little angered, perhaps, by the twists and such, but not disappointed. Slytherins are cool as long as they aren't the ones who throw away their pride for the first Dark Lord who walks by and promises them a bit of power.
Kiki-kins: Nah, you'll just have to see who Draco's an asshole to. It goes deeper than that... deeper than any characterization of Draco in this story.
Megan: Of course it'll work. With you as my guide, it shall be wonderful! *grin*
Queen: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! :o)
slush puppy: I have to say, the way they portrayed Jason Isaacs as Lucius Malfoy in the movie... *shudder* At least from what I can tell right now. It looks awful, and I seriously almost gagged when I saw it. I ran from the from screaming and hid in my Dad's room for an hour.Well, I still say there are hundreds of better stories than this one on ff.net, but thank you once more. AHHH... your sister sounds like a horror story (no offense, of course)! I've had one style throughout my entire life and I keep it like that. Jeans and a comfy shirt with a sweater jacket or a leather/corteroy (I can't spell, sorry) jacket over it... *shrug* Nice and simple. Feel free to vent to me whenever. Email me if you want, lol, ExemplarPiaculum@hotmail.com I'm good at listening to vents. All right, about the hair thing... my hair's more than halfway down my back--and curly. So... it's like... find a hat and hide it? No. Cut my hair? Hell no. Curl it? Already curly... although admittantly not *curly* curly, just wavey curly. Right now, it's straight, cuz I'll take the twenty-thirty minutes to fix it. School? Ouch. Sorry... hope you're having... uh... fun? :o)
Wyrd Sista187: Ahh, the baby. Yes... he'll be in danger, but not the sort you're thinking of, I'm betting. Thanks :o)
OMIGOD. Guess who's gonna be published in late November? *grins* Anyone willing to buy my book? It's a bit more than I want it to be price-wise (gag) ($12.95 or around there), but... hey. *grin* I love you forever? Once it's up at Amazon.com, I'll post the link. Guess that means I'll have to keep writing this story for another two or three months, eh? I have no problem with it.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I'm done.
Aimée
---
One week later, Draco and I found ourselves back on the Hogwarts Express, this time heading back to the wizarding school for the second term. We waved goodbye to his parents as the train departed, our hands clasped and grim expressions on both our faces. Lucius Malfoy had owled Professor Snape the day before, explaining the situation, and had requested that no one else, save Professor Dumbledore, know. Our wish for a separate room away from the other Slytherins was granted, although was only applicable during the last few months of our sixth year at Hogwarts.
As the train departed from the platform, I stretched out across the bench seat in our otherwise empty compartment, laying my head in his lap. Almost unconsciously, his fingers began to play with my long dark hair even before words were spoken between the two of us.
"Do we tell anyone?"
The question came in the form of his words, but was also weighing heavily on my mind. I had been considering the different possibilities for quite a while now, but I hadn't the courage to voice my opinions before he had asked.
"No," I stated quietly, listening to the harsh sounds of the train's wheels. "There's too much of a risk involved… I don't want your reputation tarnished, nor do I want Blaise to even think about getting any ideas."
"If she does anything…" Draco paused for a moment, his gray eyes distant. "I'll kill her."
I sighed, knowing his words to speak more than his actions ever would. "She's too cowardly to try anything, don't worry. Besides, I have to believe she respects marriage, no matter how much she hates me."
"I hope so," Draco spoke quietly, his eyes now gazing into my own. "My father once told me there was little pride and respect in being a Slytherin to all of those who never realized pride and respect was what Slytherin was all about. I never knew what he meant by that until the first time Potter and Weasley taunted me about being one."
"What does it mean?" I asked sleepily as my eyes started to slowly close.
"It means even if no one else understands what we feel, as long as we still have pride and respect for what we do, it doesn't matter. It means that even if no one else understands or approves of why the two of us are together and why we've made the decisions we have, it is insignificant as long as we have pride in everything we do, respect in each other, and thankfully love one another for who we are and what we will become." He took in a deep breath, his eyes still locked on my own. "It doesn't matter was Blaise says or does; we are true Slytherins, and in being so, we come first, not some Irish half-blood whore."
I grinned in spite of myself, tracing a pattern on the palm of his hand. "She's a half-blood, is she? She always insisted she was a pureblood."
"Her family, back in Voldemort's first reign, was targeted immediately after the Potters were. I'm sure she doesn't know this—only a select few were chosen to go through with the murders, and no one else ever found out."
"So your father is a Death Eater," I said quietly, not at all surprised in his admittance. "Do you plan on following in his footsteps?"
"No," Draco spoke firmly, squeezing my hand and turning his head to gaze out the window. "I promised you I would never become one of them, and I intend on keeping my word. If you or"—he turned back towards me and reached out to touch my stomach lightly—"our children are ever threatened, however, I will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety."
"As will I," I promised, sleep finally winning as I closed my eyes and fell into a deep oblivion.
That night, as we ate a large dinner in the Great Hall, Draco and I spoke only to one another, ignoring the inquiries of our housemates. Once Crabbe and Goyle failed to receive an answer from their leader's lips, the rest soon realized they were even less likely to succeed.
What followed was a routine we had both done countless times before, yet that night was the first time we dared to notice. We sat in front of the fire, in one of the best chairs, curled up together and staying perfectly silent. Few words were required between us, and even as cliché as it sounds, I could tell what his every thought was. It may have been the intense amounts of magic flowing between us or the addition amount supplied to me from our child, but as we sat there, a sort of radiance of power overcame us, making each student in the common room glance our way in awe at least once during the night. Together, we were powerful, and together, we knew it.
It was well past midnight when the two of us finally stood from our comfortable seat, tired and more than willing to go to sleep. The question hung between us, however, one that should have been simple to answer:
Should we act as all married couples and sleep in the same bed, assured by the other's presence, or should we remain as most students would: separate only when not having sex?
Draco answered the question rather abruptly, taking my hand in his and leading me up towards his own dorm, where Crabbe, Nott, and Goyle lay, hopefully sound asleep. My trunk, by the instructions from Professor Snape, had been placed in the boy's dormitories and two beds had—rather discretely—been pushed together, forming a large one that comfortably fit the two of us. It had been shoved into a corner, so the size was not evident upon first inspection.
Before I fell asleep that night, I allowed Draco to place his hand once more over his son, one who was now almost three months along. I thanked God my robes were loose and flowing, as some parts of my school uniform were already too tight to wear.
---
canihavea-soda: Where have you been? I've missed you! LOL, yes, Lucius fainted, in true Lucius form (I have a rather low image of him, but he's cool nonetheless). Nah, I don't write well, but thanks. You're 19? That ain't old! My father's my agent (by law) right now, so I'm sorta stuck. At least he knows what's good for me. *grin*
Fire: Oy. *yawn* Me tired.
Jade: You psychotic Landon!whore! *grin* I mean that in the best possible way and you know it. Thank you so much, dear, for all those wonderful reviews. You deserve a BIG hug.
Jilly-chan: Why, thank you :o) I can assure you, you won't be disappointed... a little angered, perhaps, by the twists and such, but not disappointed. Slytherins are cool as long as they aren't the ones who throw away their pride for the first Dark Lord who walks by and promises them a bit of power.
Kiki-kins: Nah, you'll just have to see who Draco's an asshole to. It goes deeper than that... deeper than any characterization of Draco in this story.
Megan: Of course it'll work. With you as my guide, it shall be wonderful! *grin*
Queen: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! :o)
slush puppy: I have to say, the way they portrayed Jason Isaacs as Lucius Malfoy in the movie... *shudder* At least from what I can tell right now. It looks awful, and I seriously almost gagged when I saw it. I ran from the from screaming and hid in my Dad's room for an hour.Well, I still say there are hundreds of better stories than this one on ff.net, but thank you once more. AHHH... your sister sounds like a horror story (no offense, of course)! I've had one style throughout my entire life and I keep it like that. Jeans and a comfy shirt with a sweater jacket or a leather/corteroy (I can't spell, sorry) jacket over it... *shrug* Nice and simple. Feel free to vent to me whenever. Email me if you want, lol, ExemplarPiaculum@hotmail.com I'm good at listening to vents. All right, about the hair thing... my hair's more than halfway down my back--and curly. So... it's like... find a hat and hide it? No. Cut my hair? Hell no. Curl it? Already curly... although admittantly not *curly* curly, just wavey curly. Right now, it's straight, cuz I'll take the twenty-thirty minutes to fix it. School? Ouch. Sorry... hope you're having... uh... fun? :o)
Wyrd Sista187: Ahh, the baby. Yes... he'll be in danger, but not the sort you're thinking of, I'm betting. Thanks :o)