Chapter One
Katarina Natalia Dobbs could remember a time in her life when she was happy. As she sat in her bedroom this evening, she realized that she hadn't been happy for a long time. Her mother, Countess Giselle Sophia Perandreas, had been alive when Katarina last remembered being happy. Her father had been sane when she last remembered being happy. She had lived in her family's home, Home House, a ridiculous name for a mansion but it was perfect.
Katarina (also known as Kat) loved her home life and family but after her mother died, her father fell into a deep depression. One morning, she went to wake him for breakfast. He wasn't in his bed. She saw that a light was on in the bathroom. There he was on the floor, the needle in his arms and she remembered screaming and crawling towards him, crying, "Daddy, daddy, daddy?" He wasn't dead but he wasn't the same. They transported him to St. Mungo's half an hour later. He didn't recognize her anymore.
She had been shipped to the home of her godparents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and their awful son, Draco. Kat was now a ward of Lucius Malfoy and was trying hard to prolong his life. If Lucius died, Draco would become the head of the Malfoy Household and Kat would then be under his care. She couldn't stand being under the care of someone younger than her, even if it was only by two months.
Kat had one younger sibling, Emma. Emma lived at the home of her godparents, Harold and Gemma Black, distant relations of the Malfoys. Kat rarely saw Emma and was grateful for that. Emma was sixteen and at Hogwarts at the moment. Kat envied her younger sister but didn't spend her days wishing she were Emma.
Tonight, there was to be a party. Kat was angry at Narcissa Malfoy for making her wear a ridiculously tight dress and stupidly high heels. She had been so angry an hour ago that she had shred the dress into pieces. The high heels had been thrown out the window. Now she was without anything to wear. She rummaged through her closet, finding an awkward deep red evening gown with a plunging neckline. Kat imagined the look on Draco's face when she came down wearing this, his attention completely on her rather than on his simpering fiancée, Pansy Parkinson. Throwing the dress on the bed, she kicked a random pair of slippers out from under her bed. They were flats and she loved flats.
The bedroom was dark and it strangely made her think of Oliver.
Oliver Wood had been Kat's reason for existing for nearly a year. She had been terribly depressed the year before she met him but during the years that she was with him…she knew he had loved her; he said it all the time to her. Did she love him? That was a very stupid question. Of course she loved him. She had always loved him. Her heart clamored for him every time he was away from her for even a day. She had stayed in his home for winter and spring vacations. His family adored her and Narcissa adored him. "You're happy, I can see it," she had said one afternoon, helping Kat pack for her summer trip to Scotland, once again to be with Oliver.
Lucius and Draco hated Oliver. "A Gryffindor, Katarina?" Lucius had said in disdainful tones. "Surely you can do better." She knew it was Lucius's dream that Kat and Draco would get married and provide him and Narcissa with a beautiful child. Kat gagged at the thought. The only person she had even considered marrying was Oliver Wood and that was long over.
Before Oliver, Kat had had a lover. Bradley Zacharias Jones had slept with Kat several times to stop the scandal that would ensue if Kat even considered dating some commoner. Bradley had a wealthy family, was in Ravenclaw House, a prefect and on the Quidditch team as Keeper. Kat smiled thinking about it. Did she have a fetish for Quidditch Keepers? Bradley had faded out too soon.
Before Bradley, however, Kat had slept with many male occupants of Slytherin and Ravenclaw Houses; including Draco Malfoy. She was only thirteen when she lost her virginity to dim-witted Marcus Flint. He had no idea what he was doing and she had cried later. She moved on to more experienced fellows: Ravenclaw's Dario Henderson; Slytherin's bad boys: Adrian Pucey, Gordon LeSabre, Vincent Monawat and, of course, Draco Malfoy. By the time she had found Oliver, she was the experienced one, too.
Oliver was amazed that this girl wasn't what he had heard about. He had heard the words rattled around about her: tramp, vixen, slut, black-hearted. When she was with him, he didn't see these. He saw someone exquisitely intricately carved into a mold that she badly wanted to shed. They'd spend hours stretching out languidly on the bed in his hotel rooms, wrapping themselves in each other and wondering what would happen tomorrow. She would order the food and they'd giggle over shining metal carts laden with elegant desserts that only she knew the names of, toasted cheese and ham sandwiches on whole wheat bread, hot ginger tea, chicken on pasta and fruit. He saw in her violet eyes a kind of sincerity that she shed when they were in public together.
Oliver's Quidditch team, Puddlemere United, was huge when Oliver and Kat were dating and the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly kept enormous recorded tabs on what was happening. The first night they had spent together in a hotel was stamped on Witch Weekly's cover. Although Narcissa was mortified, Kat was elated. She wanted to parade her love, her relationship with Oliver. She loved him but had never said it.
"I love you," he had said, leaning against the car as he said goodbye to her at the train station one summer night.
She had patted the car and said, "You love this car."
"That's different."
"We'll see." Then she had kissed him and gotten on the train and gone home, to Malfoy Mansion. Oliver had never been to Malfoy Mansion to see her, although she knew he visited with his father who worked at the Ministry of Magic alongside Draco and Lucius. Every time he visited, she hid in her room until they left.
She walked out on the balcony wearing only a black slip and smoking a cheap cigarette she bought called 'Kingston.' She looked down on the lawn. There were cars and carriages coming around the long circular path. They stopped, got out and a valet boy would take their vehicle to park it somewhere else. Kat watched, fascinated. There were tall, thin girls with hair piled on their heads like a whipped dessert. She walked back into her room, smashing the cigarette out into a crystal ashtray.
She walked languorously to the dresser where she sat down on the cushioned bench and stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn't wearing any makeup and was developing a pimple on her right cheek. She lit her wand and ran a straight pin through it, sterilizing the pin. She imagined all the tiny one-celled bacteria sizzling as they died. She stabbed the pimple, then wiped it clean with rubbing alcohol and a cotton swab.
Katarina stumbled to the bathroom where she sloppily washed her face and dried it, flipping off the light as she left the bathroom. She threw herself onto the dresser chair and reached for a small blue compact, applying face powder to her cheeks, nose, forehead and chin. She grasped a foundation tube and applied the tiny squeeze of cream to the red mark of her former pimple. It covered perfectly. Then she went to work on her face, doing it furiously in anger. She didn't smear her mascara, didn't go nuts with her eyeliner, spread blush evenly, smeared eyeshadow quickly. She pushed silver earrings into her pierced earlobes and fixed her favorite set of pearls around her neck, her mother's wedding pearls.
The dress slid on easily and Kat realized how much weight she'd lost in the past year. Last year, when she had worn this gown, she'd had cleavage and the dress was form-hugging. Today, her cleavage was gone and it clung to her body desperately, trying not to fall off. She jerked the jaw clip out of her hair and long black curly locks hung down her back past her waist. She grabbed a chunk of hair and smelled it, trying to detect any traces of cigarette smoke. There was none. She smirked at herself in the mirror. She grabbed her wand and waved it sharply at the balcony doors. They slammed shut, three panes of glass falling out and shattering. She grinned at them.
"Leave it for the house-elves," she muttered to herself, enjoying herself immensely. Carelessly, she threw a Chap Stick, the Kingstons, a tampon and her wand into her handbag. She snapped the handbag shut and stared at it hatefully. It was marked with her name: Katarina Natalia Dobbs. Ironically, it had the Malfoy Coat of Arms. She wanted to spit on it, spit in the face of the Malfoys.
But she didn't.
Instead, she shoved her feet into her shoes, gave her hair one last shake and left the dark bedroom.
As she descended the stairs, she saw that Draco was heading towards the study, a cigar tucked in his pocket. Kat felt relieved knowing that he wouldn't be at the table with her. As she entered the dining room, Narcissa grabbed her arm firmly and steered her to her seat, all the while hissing, "You were supposed to be here an hour ago to help us start the party. A few old school friends were here, looking for you and I had to tell them that I had no idea where you were. Do you have any clue how embarrassing that is that I can't even tell the guests where my ward is? Of course you don't, you were up in your room smoking and doing heaven knows what else!" She shook herself. "Never the matter. The party's already started and dinner is in progress. You will eat, entertain and be civil to the people around you, understand? Aidan was waiting for you and he ate dinner alone!" Aidan Watson was Kat's date. And what happened to the dress I gave you? That ones makes you look like a harpy!"
Kat was steered to her seat by Narcissa's manicured nails. Narcissa delicately took her seat next to Lucius. Pansy was sitting next to Kat. The seat across from her was empty. 'Probably Draco's,' Kat thought, seating herself. She glanced across from her. Aidan smiled. He had quite a nice smile.
"I apologize for my delay," Kat told him. "Were you alright down here by yourself?"
"Fine," Aidan said. "Quite a lot of nice looking young laides to keep my company." Aidan wasn't a Slytherin, something Kat was grateful for. The Slytherin lads were discomforting. Aidan had been in Ravenclaw. Katarina strong suspected that no Hufflepuffs were invited to the party. "If you'll excuse me," Aidan said, standing up, "I'll join Draco in the study."
It was now that Kat understood something. Aidan Watson was a Death Eater. She glanced down the table. Everyone at the long dinner table was, excluding herself. The round dinner tables were for the rest, although the Minister of Magic and his family sat at a round table at the front of the room, reserved with a red tablecloth. Kat breathed in a sharp breath and felt angry now although she didn't know why. She wondered if anyone else except for her noticed this ridiculous way of classing people.
"Katarinaaaa," Pansy said, holding Kat's name out far too long. "You're not eating."
"Oh…right," Kat said. She spoke to her plate and her dinner appeared on her plate. She ate about half of it while talking to a few of the people around her. Several asked about her opinion on politics. She gave them bullshit responses, responses that the Malfoys would give.
"Excuse me," Kat said finally, tiring of talking to Pansy and a leering fellow across and a seat down from her. She got up, grabbed her handbag and left.
She nearly sprinted to the powder room where she locked herself in and sat down on the closed toilet lid. She took a cigarette out of her bag, threw the bag on the ground and lit up. The nicotine pouring through her blood relaxed her. She waited a few minutes, finishing off the cigarette. She stamped it out on a bar of soap and kicked it behind the toilet. Then she left, letting another desperate-looking young woman into the powder room.
Kat walked out onto the portico, praying that no one else would come out here. She didn't want to remain for the speeches but she knew she'd have to return. She looked at her silver watch. The speeches would start in ten minutes. She resisted the urge to light up again.
Instead, she sat down in a wicker chair and looked out into the backyard. Although you couldn't see it, there was a swimming pool hidden behind the bushes. There was a long gravel path that led nowhere except through a garden full of foliage statues of curvaceous women and unicorns. The only thing that Kat liked about Malfoy Mansion was the tree that bloomed white and pink blossoms in the spring. The wind would blow the blossoms into her bedroom and she would press them between old, heavy schoolbooks.
There was a giggle and Kat looked in the direction where the laugh came from. She saw an old classmate of her, Elena Huerta, being pressed against a wall by a tall man. Elena was laughing hysterically and Kat smiled, too. She felt a surge of jealousy and stopped herself before she would start turning shades of green. Elena deserved to be happy. She was an extremely intelligent Gryffindor who also happened to be extremely kind and funny as well. Instinctively, Kat glanced at her watch. She sighed and got up, then went in. The dining room had been transformed into a great hall with several circular tables. Kat swore under her breath and meandered around, trying to look for her seat. She found it, but she didn't like Draco's sense of humor.
She was sitting right next to Oliver Wood.
"Well, Madam Dobbs," Oliver said, grinning. "Will you be sitting down?"
She sat. She looked around. Oliver's family was there, as well: mother, father and brother James. Martha Wood smiled brightly at Kat.
"It's wonderful to see you again, Katarina," she said. "How have you been?"
"Wonderful, Martha," Kat said, finding her voice finally. Where was it when she needed it earlier with Oliver.
"Isn't it ironic that we're sitting together?" Oliver said as Kat set her handbag on the table.
"I don't find it ironic at all," Kat said, "if I know anything about Draco's overwhelmingly overdeveloped superiority disorder. And his sense of humor."
"Ah, so this is young Malfoy's doing?" Oliver said in a lower tone of voice.
"Him and his wonderful fiancée," Kat said scathingly. "He is an appallingly immature boy to sit us together."
"Maybe he wants to make me jealous," Oliver suggested.
"Jealous of him and Pansy?" Kat snorted. "There's nothing there."
"I was talking about you, Kat," he said. Her name in his mouth made her heart leap into her throat. She could feel it pounding in her larynx.
"Why would need to be jealous of Draco and myself?" she asked innocently, knowing exactly where this was going.
"You live here with him. If I were young sir Malfoy, I would take as much advantage of that as possible," Oliver said. "Although that dress does a lot for me."
"Young Mr. Malfoy knows what will happen if he even enters my sleeping chambers," Kat said quietly. "Although you don't pose the same threat he does."
"We both have the same intention."
"Yours is pure."
"Not in my own mind." He grinned and she gave him a sarcastic smile.
The speeches had started with a toast. "To the Ministry of Magic," Draco called out from the podium. They raised their glasses, murmuring, "The the Ministry." Kat had always loved the Scottish R's. She felt a shiver run down her spine. Where was her spine?
She drank the wine, watching Oliver out of the corner of her eye. His posture, as always, was perfect. He sat casually, however, chatting politely with his family. Kat felt like the outsider, the intruder, the poor little rich girl. That was strange. She had always felt like she fit in when she was with them. Things really had changed.
"Are you trying to tease me with that gown, Miss Dobbs?" Oliver's voice was quiet and warm in her ear.
"I didn't even know you were going to be here tonight," she sharply.
"Did you suspect even slightly that I may be here?"
"Not at all. Not even a tiny ray of hope," she said, then realized what she had said. Oliver's smile widened.
From the podium, Draco could see everything, including Kat and Oliver Wood flirting profusely at the table in front of him. His father was making the speeches but Draco knew it would soon be his turn.
Kat was smiling widely at Oliver who was grinning as well. They were both holding back hysterical laughter. He wanted to throttle himself for even trying this. Of course they wouldn't starting hating each other after two years of simply not speaking. Draco could only imagine the pent up sexual energy in the air between them as they conversed.
He glanced up at his father. Lucius Malfoy was a master speech writer and maker. Draco could only pray to become like him. He glanced back at Kat and Oliver.
They were gone.
"I hope the Malfoys don't mind," Oliver said.
"Do you really?" Kat asked.
He grinned. "Not particularly."
She walked ahead of him out to the portico. He followed her. The temperature was unnaturally cold even for October. She shivered but didn't let him see.
"Would you like to walk?" Oliver asked.
She nodded and they stepped off the portico together and onto the gravel path. The rocks crunched uneasily under their feet as they walked, heading towards the fountain where they both took a seat. She still had her drink. The wine tasted stale by now and she wished for stronger alcohol in her bedroom. She tossed the wine in the grass and set the glass in between her and Oliver.
"You seem strange," he said.
"You're the only one to actually say anything," she said lightly.
"And you've lost a lot of weight."
She ignored that, knowing that if she spoke about it, she'd burst out crying and she'd reserved crying only for when she was in her own company.
"How's Puddlemere?" she asked.
"Don't you read the papers, Kat?" he asked, teasing.
"Uggggh," she said. "To read news of my awkward disappearance? Of my so-called depression? How sex starved I am?"
"No," he said. "To read news about me."
She couldn't let him know how much she scoured the papers for news of him, cutting out every little clipping or large article she saw in the papers. She was having every paper delivered.
"I hate the newspapers," she lied.
"When do you plan to blow this place over, Kat?" Oliver asked silently.
She couldn't answer that. She felt her throat become hot with clogged tears. But she spoke. "Lucius has control of me until I'm twenty-one." Then she added, "Unless I get married."
"What the fuck?" Oliver asked. "How can he control you like this?"
"It's in the contract," Kat said. "The contract my parents signed when I was born. If something were to happen, I'd be in Lucius Malfoy's care until I become an adult. Well, something happened."
"I think you should run away," Oliver said.
"And go where? Your parents' place?"
His eyes twinkled merrily. "I have my own place now. You could come and stay with me." She laughed.
"I don't think that would be deemed appropriate," she said matter-of-factly. Oliver chuckled.
"Since when have you cared about what's appropriate?" Oliver asked.
"Since never," she said. She leaned into him, placing her hands on his knees and her mouth very close to his. "I'd run away with you and we could get naked together."
"Sounds good to me," Oliver whispered.
"Let's go," Kat said, standing up and pulling at his hands, her face still very close to his. "Let's get naked now. In my bedroom." She pulled his large hands around and placed them on her hips. He could feel how the bones jutted out.
"Kat," he said, trying to pull his hands away but not wanting to, "we can't."
"We both want to, big boy," she said. "And I'm of age. We both know that."
"Katarina," he said. She stopped. He had hardly ever called her by her full name. She winced.
"Ollie?" she said weakly.
"Kat, please," he said. "We can't. After two years…it would be embarrassing."
"Only if we let it be," she pleaded. "Oliver!" He reluctantly pulled his hands away and stood up, awkwardly colliding with her.
"No, Kat," he said, turning his back to her. "We can't."
She suddenly felt humiliated. Her heart beat hard against her ribs. She feared her bones would shatter.
"Oliver," she whispered and fainted. He caught her in mid-fall. She was slumped strangely, her body bending in weird ways.
"Ah, shit!" he said, picking her up. Her hair hung in the air, swinging as he headed toward the house. He was surprised how far they'd walked. With every step she seemed to weigh more and he suddenly wondered if she was dying. What if he walked into the house with a dead girl in his arms? Particularly a dead girl that he had loved? He hated to think about it. His mind wasn't focusing right.
"Kat," he said loudly to her. "Kitty Kat, are you awake?"
Her eyes opened and she grinned. "You really are my valiant hero."
"Katarina!" he exclaimed, setting her down on two feet. She grinned.
"I was wondering what you would do," she said, giggling. She was smiling brightly now but he could see something behind the white smile. He wondered what it was as they walked together back to the house.
Later, after the party, as Kat helped Pansy undress, she came up with an idea.
"Maybe I should go to London a bit early?" she said, adding the hint of a question at the end to make it seem like she was asking permission. "Just for a break from all these parties. It's beginning to get to me. Maybe then the press will stop following me around."
"Oh darling!" Pansy whined. "I need you here to help me plan for the wedding! Why would you want to leave now?"
"I'm just getting in the way," Kat said quietly. "It's yours and Draco's wedding; he should help you plan it." Kat waited patiently for this to sink in. Pansy nodded. "And besides," Kat added, "you'll be coming up there soon anyway. I could go and get everything ready."
"You're right, Kat," she said. "Why shouldn't Draco help me plan our wedding?" The last bit had slid right past her. Perfect.
Kat nodded in agreement. Pansy nodded as well. "Alright, you can go to London. I'll have some money wired to you once you get there, okay?"
Kat's heart ballooned but she kept a straight face as she helped Pansy into her nightgown. When she got to her room, she leaned against the closed door and let out the happiest laugh she could muster.