Draco considered refusing the offer, but he simply could not do it. He had
seen a whole month without Virginia stretched out in front of him, and knew
that even his formidable willpower was no match for the sweet allure of her
presence.
The more he got to know Miss Weasley, the more he wanted her for his own. His need for her had long since moved past lust and yet all that was open to him was the trivial role of semi-close friend. Without wanting to, Draco was confronted by how much he had come to depend on her. She made him laugh, and precious little in his life did that. With her he could forget about his social obligations and try to live the life of a typical twenty- two year old.
With thoughts of her swimming about in his mind, he picked up the invite and walked slowly down the long hallway to the family wing. His footsteps echoed in the silence he found there. He knew his home was not empty, it could not be with all the staff it took to run it, but it felt as though it were. He stopped in front of his old room and stared longingly at the door; then he turned and forced himself to the Master's Chamber.
His belongings hardly filled the immense space of the bedroom. He never quite felt right here; too many bad memories resided in its walls. Before his father's death he had only been permitted into this room to be punished. He much preferred his mother's set of rooms. There her scent still lingered, bringing him memories of time well spent in her arms. He knew that the Lord and Lady of Malfoy Manor had always slept in separate quarters, but he swore that the woman who was his Lady would not be sleeping three doors down the hall.
When his father died it had been like a burden had been lifted. He knew it was wrong to feel this way, but that day was close to the happiest in his life. Draco never knew what freedom was till that moment. His self-hate had only deepened; what sort of son was he if he celebrated instead of mourned the lost of his father? But in all other aspects, he rejoiced. He would not be forced into the same sort of loveless marriage his parents had, and he would no longer be living in fear of his life for daring to defy the life plan his father had made for him. It seems his father's death had put many other plans into motion though, he thought as he flopped onto the massive bed, the note from the Weasleys still clutched in his hand.
This business about them being his Godparents sound too good to be true, but the more he thought of it, the more it made sense. He had always known that his mother and Mrs. Weasley were once best friends; his father threw it at her in too many fights to count. He was also aware of the fact that she had named his Godparents without his father's consent. When his father's mood was foul, which had happened daily, he would list the many imperfections and miscalculations of his wife. The only thing she seemed to have done right was to give birth to a male and to have only had one.
When his mother had died she left him a package of pictures with each one clearly labeled. There were of her and his father in Hogwarts, laughing and smiling side by side with the Weasleys. His father had taken the pictures and locked them in his desk. Draco had not seen them again until after he was made Lord of Malfoy Manor. He always assumed that his father did not want proof that he had once felt something other than hate floating around, and that that was his reason for hiding those pictures away.
He took them out now and slowly flipped through them. Mrs. Weasley looked very much like her daughter at that age. A slow smile moved across his face. He had just been given the perfect excuse for hanging around Virginia as much as possible. All he had to do is make peace with his Godparents and he would have complete access to her family for the rest of his life.
~~~@
December twelfth, far to early in the morning
It is my last day in sunny Southern California. There is a stark beauty to this place. I have always lover the deep green and rolling hills of my home, but the drab palette of the desert has an appeal of its own as well. We hit all the tourist sights and I enjoyed being one with the muggle world once again. I saw a few signs of wizards and was very tempted to go exploring on my own, but my promise to my Mother kept me in line.
Nadia's family has been so very good to me. It makes me feel down right vile for not telling them the truth about who I am. When I get home I am going to check every law book I can find to see if there is some way that I can invite Nadia to stay at The Burrow. I no longer live there, but I want her to meet my family and see the world that I come from. I know that there is thousands upon thousands of years of hate and distrust between her race and mine, but there should be room for friendship as well.
The only real difference between Nadia and myself is that I was born with gifts that she does not have. Should I hate Harry for his skills at quidditch? Should I fear Hermione for her seemingly endless knowledge? Who cares that my genetic makeup is slightly different from hers? I think it is long past the time when such petty discriminations as those that exist between muggles and wizards should be gone.
December nineteenth, mid afternoon
My house is in an uproar. It seems that my Mother offered the olive branch to Draco and he jumped at the chance to make amends. Ron is in a state of constant rage. Even though he long since moved out, he has been making daily appearances in hopes of catching 'that slime' doing something evil. Mum told him to back off, that 'Poor Draco' has had such a hard life and that Ron should be more inclined to forgive. Somehow that just seemed to get him even more worked up. The end result of this is that I now see Draco more then I see anyone else I am a friend with, including my Marty who has been out of the country on holiday.
This all came to a head last night when Mum offered to let Draco live with them for as long as he wants. She feels sorry for him, living in that big house all alone. He said he would love to, and his bags arrived this morning, much to the surprise of Ron who, at that point, did not know Draco was now a permanent resident of The Burrow. When Ron found out what Mum had done he went into a rage unlike any before. It ended in a nasty confrontation between him and Mum with Ron being kicked out of the house till he can learn to control his tongue. He left feels very put upon and vowed he would not return without amends being made.
Mum has been crying since. We are all doing our best to cheer her up. Draco even said he would be willing to leave, but she would have none of it. She told us that she loved Cissa Malfoy and that she would not be found wanting in her duties toward her Godson. Hermione started in on how if she and Harry could forgive Draco then surely Ron could and there was a lot of righteous indignation on the part of Percy, as if he never made our Mother's heart break.
January second, nearly nine
Marty just left. He has visited my parents a good four times now and each one is better than the last. Even Hermione has warmed to him. He stopped by to personally invite the whole lot of us to a party his parents are hosting next week. He says that his family is dying to meet me and that he wants our families to get to know each other as well as we do.
He was making all sorts of hints and the like, but I am not yet ready for the type of commitment he is asking for. I really enjoy his company and like him above all others, but I am only twenty-one and in no mood to settle down and start a family. Draco saved me from having to answer a few particularly pointed questions by telling Marty not to make such an ass of himself and that he was embarrassing me.
January tenth, too happy to care about the time
I had the best time at Marty's party. Out families got on with each other and, much to my dismay, talked openly about how much they approve of the match. There was music and dancing and so much good food to eat that I stuffed myself to the point of popping. After dinner Marty took me into the gardens and we walked hand in hand under the stars. The whole evening seemed bathed in the glow of my affections for him.
I am still giddy from our last kiss. He is so passionate and experienced! The feel of his lips on mine drives me wild! I know I must seem terribly innocent to be longing for a kiss and no more, but there it is. His lips drive all thoughts from my head and I can hardly wait till I can kiss him again!
January twenty-second, five a.m.
Oh God! I cannot take it any more! Those trice-damned dreams are driving me mad. All I can think about is his mouth and his hands. How I long to make these dreams a reality. I know I am taken, by none other then his best friend, but even the joy that is Marty's kiss cannot compare to the vision of ardor I find in Draco's arms. I must remind myself that it is not real, that those delicious sensations exist only in my mind.
I long to find out if his body would feel as good on top of mind as it did less than an hour ago. I am driven by the need to taste his lips and touch his face. My desire for him has grown to the point where I cannot be in the same room as him without blushing and acting a fool. Things cannot continue. This must stop. If I cannot control my factices, then I must avoid him at all costs. I do not want to hurt Marty. I do not want to come between them like some silly girl on the soaps.
February first, early evening
The fates are against me. We just received our partners for our senior project and guess who mine is. None other then Draco Bloody Malfoy, who I have been studiously avoiding this past week and a half. How am I going to get through a whole semester of working closely with him? How? I told Marty to pick me as his partner, but no he has to be all noble and say that he knows absolutely nothing about my topic and therefore cannot help me at all. Prat. What the devil did he think I wanted him as my partner for? To give me hints on what the best way to research teenaged muggles is? Not bloody likely! As if Draco knows that much more about it.
February tenth, late
Okay, so maybe Draco knows more about my topic then I gave him credit for. How was I to know that a background International Relations would come in handy when dealing with the differences between the teenage population of the muggle and wizard worlds. He has been such a help. Every time I am stuck, he finds exactly what I need. He is a good teacher and cannot be more understanding of my sort comings, all this and we are only nine days into the project.
Being around him does not seem to help with my dream problem though. I am having them every night now. They are so very sultry and what not that I cannot seem to take my mind from them. I find myself staring off into space thinking of how beautiful Draco's body is and then get all guilty for it. I poured my heart out to Nadia in an email last night and I hope that she can give me some good advice.
All my spare time has been devoted to Marty lately. He always knows how to brighten my day. It is hard to explain how good a friend he is or how much his presence means to me. I am starting to feel like he and I are meant to be the best of friends. I am so worried that if things do not work out I will lose him as a part of my life. Am I not the most selfish girl alive? I know I am setting him up for the fall but I am too upset at the idea of losing his friendship to tell him the truth about us.
~~~@
Draco watched her writing and tried not to scream with the injustice of it all. He knew she was interested in him, he filled her thoughts so often now that his ring was almost always warm, but she was so enamored with Marty that she was not letting the relationship they were meant to have form between them. The very idea that she would leave his room later tonight and go be with another man was driving him insane. They made a good team, the two of them, why could she not see it?
He must have made a noise, because she raised her head and looked him in the eyes. He felt lust surge through him at the same time that his ring went molten. He wanted to act on it, to do what felt so right, but he knew he could not betray one of his closest friends. Instead, he turned away and asked her how her work was coming. She babbled about it for a good five minuets and the tension in the air slowly defused.
He closed his eyes and formed the all too familiar picture of her in his head. She was swaying side to side with her arms wrapped around his neck. He changed it and suddenly they were moving gracefully across a ballroom floor. Her eyes glowed with an inner light and he wanted nothing more than for the song to never end. He shook his head to clear the images. She was not his.
"Draco?" It was hesitant, as if she did not want to know what it was that was bothering him but felt compelled to ask anyway. She stood up and walked to his side, her hand touched his shoulder and he shuddered. "Draco, this is wrong."
He wanted to shout at her that nothing had happened and even if something had, it could not be wrong if what they were feeling was love. That thought stopped him. Was it love, this endless sea of emotion? And even if it were for him, how could he be sure it was on her side as well? He stood there not moving and he felt her lips brush his neck. It went through him like white lightning. Even as his mind cursed him for doing so, he pushed her away. The hurt in her eyes almost undid him, but he kept to his path.
"Virginia, never do that again." He voice curt and devoid of all emotion. "Marty is my mate. You are dating him; you cannot be with me. If you try anything like that again and I will have to tell him what happened." He went to the door and opened it. "I think it would be best if you took your things and left." He heard her cry out but he did not stop. He walked down the stairs to the kitchen and waited until he heard the front door shut before he let himself realize what it was that he had just done. The Burrow trembled at the sound of his rage.
The more he got to know Miss Weasley, the more he wanted her for his own. His need for her had long since moved past lust and yet all that was open to him was the trivial role of semi-close friend. Without wanting to, Draco was confronted by how much he had come to depend on her. She made him laugh, and precious little in his life did that. With her he could forget about his social obligations and try to live the life of a typical twenty- two year old.
With thoughts of her swimming about in his mind, he picked up the invite and walked slowly down the long hallway to the family wing. His footsteps echoed in the silence he found there. He knew his home was not empty, it could not be with all the staff it took to run it, but it felt as though it were. He stopped in front of his old room and stared longingly at the door; then he turned and forced himself to the Master's Chamber.
His belongings hardly filled the immense space of the bedroom. He never quite felt right here; too many bad memories resided in its walls. Before his father's death he had only been permitted into this room to be punished. He much preferred his mother's set of rooms. There her scent still lingered, bringing him memories of time well spent in her arms. He knew that the Lord and Lady of Malfoy Manor had always slept in separate quarters, but he swore that the woman who was his Lady would not be sleeping three doors down the hall.
When his father died it had been like a burden had been lifted. He knew it was wrong to feel this way, but that day was close to the happiest in his life. Draco never knew what freedom was till that moment. His self-hate had only deepened; what sort of son was he if he celebrated instead of mourned the lost of his father? But in all other aspects, he rejoiced. He would not be forced into the same sort of loveless marriage his parents had, and he would no longer be living in fear of his life for daring to defy the life plan his father had made for him. It seems his father's death had put many other plans into motion though, he thought as he flopped onto the massive bed, the note from the Weasleys still clutched in his hand.
This business about them being his Godparents sound too good to be true, but the more he thought of it, the more it made sense. He had always known that his mother and Mrs. Weasley were once best friends; his father threw it at her in too many fights to count. He was also aware of the fact that she had named his Godparents without his father's consent. When his father's mood was foul, which had happened daily, he would list the many imperfections and miscalculations of his wife. The only thing she seemed to have done right was to give birth to a male and to have only had one.
When his mother had died she left him a package of pictures with each one clearly labeled. There were of her and his father in Hogwarts, laughing and smiling side by side with the Weasleys. His father had taken the pictures and locked them in his desk. Draco had not seen them again until after he was made Lord of Malfoy Manor. He always assumed that his father did not want proof that he had once felt something other than hate floating around, and that that was his reason for hiding those pictures away.
He took them out now and slowly flipped through them. Mrs. Weasley looked very much like her daughter at that age. A slow smile moved across his face. He had just been given the perfect excuse for hanging around Virginia as much as possible. All he had to do is make peace with his Godparents and he would have complete access to her family for the rest of his life.
~~~@
December twelfth, far to early in the morning
It is my last day in sunny Southern California. There is a stark beauty to this place. I have always lover the deep green and rolling hills of my home, but the drab palette of the desert has an appeal of its own as well. We hit all the tourist sights and I enjoyed being one with the muggle world once again. I saw a few signs of wizards and was very tempted to go exploring on my own, but my promise to my Mother kept me in line.
Nadia's family has been so very good to me. It makes me feel down right vile for not telling them the truth about who I am. When I get home I am going to check every law book I can find to see if there is some way that I can invite Nadia to stay at The Burrow. I no longer live there, but I want her to meet my family and see the world that I come from. I know that there is thousands upon thousands of years of hate and distrust between her race and mine, but there should be room for friendship as well.
The only real difference between Nadia and myself is that I was born with gifts that she does not have. Should I hate Harry for his skills at quidditch? Should I fear Hermione for her seemingly endless knowledge? Who cares that my genetic makeup is slightly different from hers? I think it is long past the time when such petty discriminations as those that exist between muggles and wizards should be gone.
December nineteenth, mid afternoon
My house is in an uproar. It seems that my Mother offered the olive branch to Draco and he jumped at the chance to make amends. Ron is in a state of constant rage. Even though he long since moved out, he has been making daily appearances in hopes of catching 'that slime' doing something evil. Mum told him to back off, that 'Poor Draco' has had such a hard life and that Ron should be more inclined to forgive. Somehow that just seemed to get him even more worked up. The end result of this is that I now see Draco more then I see anyone else I am a friend with, including my Marty who has been out of the country on holiday.
This all came to a head last night when Mum offered to let Draco live with them for as long as he wants. She feels sorry for him, living in that big house all alone. He said he would love to, and his bags arrived this morning, much to the surprise of Ron who, at that point, did not know Draco was now a permanent resident of The Burrow. When Ron found out what Mum had done he went into a rage unlike any before. It ended in a nasty confrontation between him and Mum with Ron being kicked out of the house till he can learn to control his tongue. He left feels very put upon and vowed he would not return without amends being made.
Mum has been crying since. We are all doing our best to cheer her up. Draco even said he would be willing to leave, but she would have none of it. She told us that she loved Cissa Malfoy and that she would not be found wanting in her duties toward her Godson. Hermione started in on how if she and Harry could forgive Draco then surely Ron could and there was a lot of righteous indignation on the part of Percy, as if he never made our Mother's heart break.
January second, nearly nine
Marty just left. He has visited my parents a good four times now and each one is better than the last. Even Hermione has warmed to him. He stopped by to personally invite the whole lot of us to a party his parents are hosting next week. He says that his family is dying to meet me and that he wants our families to get to know each other as well as we do.
He was making all sorts of hints and the like, but I am not yet ready for the type of commitment he is asking for. I really enjoy his company and like him above all others, but I am only twenty-one and in no mood to settle down and start a family. Draco saved me from having to answer a few particularly pointed questions by telling Marty not to make such an ass of himself and that he was embarrassing me.
January tenth, too happy to care about the time
I had the best time at Marty's party. Out families got on with each other and, much to my dismay, talked openly about how much they approve of the match. There was music and dancing and so much good food to eat that I stuffed myself to the point of popping. After dinner Marty took me into the gardens and we walked hand in hand under the stars. The whole evening seemed bathed in the glow of my affections for him.
I am still giddy from our last kiss. He is so passionate and experienced! The feel of his lips on mine drives me wild! I know I must seem terribly innocent to be longing for a kiss and no more, but there it is. His lips drive all thoughts from my head and I can hardly wait till I can kiss him again!
January twenty-second, five a.m.
Oh God! I cannot take it any more! Those trice-damned dreams are driving me mad. All I can think about is his mouth and his hands. How I long to make these dreams a reality. I know I am taken, by none other then his best friend, but even the joy that is Marty's kiss cannot compare to the vision of ardor I find in Draco's arms. I must remind myself that it is not real, that those delicious sensations exist only in my mind.
I long to find out if his body would feel as good on top of mind as it did less than an hour ago. I am driven by the need to taste his lips and touch his face. My desire for him has grown to the point where I cannot be in the same room as him without blushing and acting a fool. Things cannot continue. This must stop. If I cannot control my factices, then I must avoid him at all costs. I do not want to hurt Marty. I do not want to come between them like some silly girl on the soaps.
February first, early evening
The fates are against me. We just received our partners for our senior project and guess who mine is. None other then Draco Bloody Malfoy, who I have been studiously avoiding this past week and a half. How am I going to get through a whole semester of working closely with him? How? I told Marty to pick me as his partner, but no he has to be all noble and say that he knows absolutely nothing about my topic and therefore cannot help me at all. Prat. What the devil did he think I wanted him as my partner for? To give me hints on what the best way to research teenaged muggles is? Not bloody likely! As if Draco knows that much more about it.
February tenth, late
Okay, so maybe Draco knows more about my topic then I gave him credit for. How was I to know that a background International Relations would come in handy when dealing with the differences between the teenage population of the muggle and wizard worlds. He has been such a help. Every time I am stuck, he finds exactly what I need. He is a good teacher and cannot be more understanding of my sort comings, all this and we are only nine days into the project.
Being around him does not seem to help with my dream problem though. I am having them every night now. They are so very sultry and what not that I cannot seem to take my mind from them. I find myself staring off into space thinking of how beautiful Draco's body is and then get all guilty for it. I poured my heart out to Nadia in an email last night and I hope that she can give me some good advice.
All my spare time has been devoted to Marty lately. He always knows how to brighten my day. It is hard to explain how good a friend he is or how much his presence means to me. I am starting to feel like he and I are meant to be the best of friends. I am so worried that if things do not work out I will lose him as a part of my life. Am I not the most selfish girl alive? I know I am setting him up for the fall but I am too upset at the idea of losing his friendship to tell him the truth about us.
~~~@
Draco watched her writing and tried not to scream with the injustice of it all. He knew she was interested in him, he filled her thoughts so often now that his ring was almost always warm, but she was so enamored with Marty that she was not letting the relationship they were meant to have form between them. The very idea that she would leave his room later tonight and go be with another man was driving him insane. They made a good team, the two of them, why could she not see it?
He must have made a noise, because she raised her head and looked him in the eyes. He felt lust surge through him at the same time that his ring went molten. He wanted to act on it, to do what felt so right, but he knew he could not betray one of his closest friends. Instead, he turned away and asked her how her work was coming. She babbled about it for a good five minuets and the tension in the air slowly defused.
He closed his eyes and formed the all too familiar picture of her in his head. She was swaying side to side with her arms wrapped around his neck. He changed it and suddenly they were moving gracefully across a ballroom floor. Her eyes glowed with an inner light and he wanted nothing more than for the song to never end. He shook his head to clear the images. She was not his.
"Draco?" It was hesitant, as if she did not want to know what it was that was bothering him but felt compelled to ask anyway. She stood up and walked to his side, her hand touched his shoulder and he shuddered. "Draco, this is wrong."
He wanted to shout at her that nothing had happened and even if something had, it could not be wrong if what they were feeling was love. That thought stopped him. Was it love, this endless sea of emotion? And even if it were for him, how could he be sure it was on her side as well? He stood there not moving and he felt her lips brush his neck. It went through him like white lightning. Even as his mind cursed him for doing so, he pushed her away. The hurt in her eyes almost undid him, but he kept to his path.
"Virginia, never do that again." He voice curt and devoid of all emotion. "Marty is my mate. You are dating him; you cannot be with me. If you try anything like that again and I will have to tell him what happened." He went to the door and opened it. "I think it would be best if you took your things and left." He heard her cry out but he did not stop. He walked down the stairs to the kitchen and waited until he heard the front door shut before he let himself realize what it was that he had just done. The Burrow trembled at the sound of his rage.