Author: Calex

Rating: R

Genre(s): Darkfic/ Future fic/ Angst/ Romance

Characters: Lucius Malfoy, Ginevra Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Giuseppe Zabini (OC), Evangeline de Wolf (OC)

Summary: "Malfoy's share. We share all our glories and our downfalls. Mostly, we share our spoils and somehow, on that bright Autumn late afternoon, much brighter than usual for England, I realised that she was not a prize. That she was real." –Taken from the text

The 10th Muse – State of Being

Evangeline stayed. She came with me and she stayed there, as I did, for nearly a year. She lived as my mistress in the Castello in leisure. She had everything that she could possibly have hoped for and in turn, I had the company of a beautiful and vivacious woman who did not even look at another man during our time together. Evangeline (for I refused to call her Angel. I had had my taste of the darkness of one, and didn't want another, for Evangeline was tainted as was the rest of us), became the hostess to the parties that I threw and our affair was widely known. We appeared in all the newspapers, for it was a scandal, the Lord Malfoy seen around Italy with his part Italian part French Lounge singer paramour with a taste for muggle culture. No one had seen the like of it, and I wasn't surprised had thought that I had lost my mind, but had I? Had I really? Or have I just awoken to the reality? Am I, instead of insane, sane for once? I felt that I have truly woken up, that I am alive. She made me feel that, with her quiet acceptance, her laughter and her darkness. She was not the pool of pain and scars that was Ginevra, but she had her own distresses. Evangeline never let me see her pain, never let me see her cry and at first I was thankful that she would at least give me the choice, to spare me. After awhile, though, I craved that part of her as I had had every other part of her. Evangeline was my grounding... she made me able to wake up and face the world. I do not know if I have the same purity of feeling in my love for her as I did with Ginevra, for I loved her and she knew it. I had told her of my fear and her answer had surprised me, had gratified me.

Evangeline had leant down to kiss me, and when I looked into her eyes, I saw that tears had made them shine. A single salty tear fell from her eyes and I, panicked, picked it up with my finger. I stared at the shiny substance on my finger before she took that finger and put it into my mouth.

"Taste my tears, Lucius, and rejoice. Because they are tears of happiness." She leant her head against my heart. "I'm glad, glad that you don't love me as you did her. I don't want to be loved like that, don't want to have the cause to hurt you more that I already can. Darling, I'm glad because what you feel for me is mature. Isn't just some bright love that resounds from hope and not reality."

"You make it real, Evangeline," I whispered into her hair. I held her as she cried into my shirt, felt it's wetness against my skin and yet I did not brush them away. Never again will I wipe another's tears, or fight any of their fears. I will not hold Evangeline's hand to guide her, never that. I will be by her side and let her find her own way in life as she wants it to, I shall never again see a woman the way I want her to be, never again shy from reality as I had been, wanting the pure, the innocent, the clean. I asked her to marry me when we were sitting outside on the rooftop of the castello, the sweat on our bodies from our lovemaking cooling with the night breeze as the stars gleamed down on us. I did not have the Malfoy ring for that, as far as I know, still belonged to Ginevra. I had merely raised her hand, kissed her fingertips.

"Keep me," I had said, softly. "Keep me, please. I'm ready to be kept for as long as you want me."

She turned around so that her breasts brushed against my chest instead of her back and lifted her eyes to look into my eyes. She brushed away the hair from my eyes and slid her fingers back through my hair so that her hand cupped my head. She smiled and pulled my hand up to her lips so that she kissed my fingertips, now.

"I belong to you as much as you belong to me. We come into this, bound to each other. I do not lead this, as neither do you."

"Then bind me," I said. "Because I'm still free." She pulled my head down and let our mouths touch lightly, just lightly. Then she breathed into my mouth.

"I bind thee to my side, equal in life, equal in love, my soul and thee twined till the moment of death separates."

"I bind thee to my side, equal in life, equal in love, my soul and thee twined and separated not by death or life, as that is my wish."

She looked at me, surprise in her eyes, then she nodded, acquiesced. I took the necklace I wore around my neck and opened the small box. In it was a small piece of blade that was as sharp as any knife and a small cup. I enlarged the silver cup with my wand and filled it with water. I took the sliver of blade, enlarged it till it was the size of a small knife and looked at Evangeline. I made a cut just over my heart, a shallow cut, and felt the blood well up to the wound, then travel down, sticky and thick, warm down my skin. I didn't look away from her as I did this, did not wince even as I felt the sharp sting of the blade slicing open my skin. I collected the released blood in the cup, then turned to her. She took the blade from me and made a cut over hear heart, her gazed locked on mine as mine had been before on hers and I gave her the cup to collect her blood in. The water in the cup was red, dark red as the blood, while not copious in amount, was still quite a lot. The level of water, admittedly, was also low. I whispered the ancient Latin words of the binding ceremony and she whispered them with me. I held out my hand and she grasped it, our fingers twined as I picked up the cup. I brought it to my mouth, paused, my eyes locked on hers, then drank down half of it. When I released the cup, my lips were tinted red and the metallic tang of blood remained in my throat. I handed the cup to her and she did the same, finishing all that she could of the liquid. When she laid the cup down, I pulled her to me, lowered my head down to hers, then let my bloodstained mouth rub against hers. our bloods mingled and I moved to do the finishing touch to the ceremony.

We touched each other, like it was new. My hands moved reverently over her skin, memorising her, seeing her as though for the first time. Slowly, the two of us moved together in that age old dance until she gasped, arched herself into me, and laid boneless in my arms. I was not far behind her.

We lay under the stars blood cooling and dried on our skin, our fingers twined as was, irreparably, our souls. My wife was in my arms, the ancient incantation stronger than any legal marriage binding, for she is my wife in my heart. Placed a kiss on her forehead and we lay, cuddled, and waited for the oncoming day with lighter hearts.

The announcement was made that one Lucius Roderique, Lord Malfoy eloped with Evangeline Magdalene, Lady de Wolf, illegitimate only child of il Duca Giuseppe de Benedictis. My darling girl didn't tell me she was a Duke's daughter, but I didn't blame her for it. She was the only heir of the old duke, she was to have his fortune. My wife wasn't just a lounge singer, she came from an old and noble family. Did that make me love her more? No. For I came to Evangeline with eyes open. I married her for Evangeline, not for Lady de Wolf. Although I can't lie and say that it wasn't exactly the icing on the cake. We returned to England three years after my departure from there to see what had happened to my household.

It still stood, though barely. My gambling, though notorious, had fetched me a handsome sum. The Malfoy vaults were locked tight and it was no one's but mine, all that money. It would go to Draco only when I die, but till then, it was mine. It was what saved the family. Draco had married Ginevra, in the end. But the two had a one year marriage that was shaky at best. He had a daughter... but neither of us knew if it was his or mine. Her name was Rosaline and after the horrific Weasley/Malfoy divorce that was also the food of tabloids for months, Draco gained custody of the girl. Ginevra was now affianced with none other than Neville Longbottom and Draco was seen quite often in the company of his long time friend, Blaise Zabini. Draco's life was in shambles, but the girl seemed to ground him as Evangeline had with me, and we, the two of us Malfoys, recognised what we had needed. Ginevra Weasley had been like a tempest in our lives, disrupting the natural order that had always stood, defied it with her very presence. It still lingered, like the song. Sometimes at night I think I still hear her laugh and when I go to the rose garden, I see that night of the full moon or the dinner. She had nearly destroyed us, but the Malfoys are strong, we persevere. We are also stubborn as mules and that was what had made us truly what we are. Strong, powerful. And sane.

I love my wife, my Evangeline. She does not grip me as Ginevra gripped me, but she has given me my sanity, my life back. Rosaline is like our own child, as Draco is still young, still hard headed and unknowing of what to do. He ignores the girl, leaves her to our care, but... I can understand. He sees Ginevra's betrayal in that child, he sees everything that hurt him and that he had lost. So had I, or so would I... had I not had Evangeline. It is a sad state of affairs that a Malfoy would forget their own, but... Evangeline and I have hope, still of my son. He will one day wake up, and he will one day realise the gift that he had been given in his daughter. She is a beautiful child with strawberry blonde hair and tragic cinnamon eyes, but she is lovely, intelligent. And she is a Malfoy. One day, he will heal enough to see that, one day, with Blaise's help, he will see her. One day he will be a true father and that is the day that I await to see, for that day is when he will truly become the Lord Malfoy, and not at the time of my death, for being a Malfoy is more than a name, more than wealth and privilege. It is a state of being. He is not far away, is my son. And I had always despaired of him ever being thus... in a way, I do believe that I have Ginevra to thank for that, Ginevra to look at for the maturity of my son. I am indebted to her... how ironic. I remember her and I doubtlessly will always remember her. Hopefully I will remember her easier as time progresses but till then... till then I shall wait and see.

The End

AN: Right, as it is, the story stands at 22, 170 words. That doesn't include the "the end", just the story text. This ship has sailed, and the crew was fantastic. It's over, my first truly "complete" fic. I didn't realise it was going to be this soon, but there you go. My longest fic not including the strange little "soap opera" that Leena and I wrote earlier this year (that one stood at over 31 000 words. And was over 81 pages. But yeah. And it was also written in the space of a few weeks. You know... looks askance at Leena Were we mad? Or just generally jobless? Did we do any prep at all during that time? shakes head Aaaanyway, that's it, folks. It's been nice writing this.

Oh yeah, it began as a One Shot

Bibliography:

Sonnets 38 and 147 by Shakespeare

"words quote"- Picture of Dorian Gray- Oscar Wilde

Song quoted among others.. ahem. My Immortal- Evanescence.

Story influenced by reading one too many fics by LadyRhiyana (Malfoy Grove, Lord Malfoy etc. I was about to use High Clan politics when I realised belatedly that it wasn't canon and that it was LR's. I stopped myself in time, thankfully, before it became plagiarism). Besides, I like her Lucius. He was human, he wasn't perfect, but he was human.

Special thanks:

My band of mates that I managed to force into reading my stuff, ahem. They stand as: Nicki, Jas, Leena, Helen and Dobseh

Eurothrash, who said she liked my characterisation of Lucius better than hers (to which I still think, are you mad?)

Avanti and Proud, my non-LJ mates/readers

Everyone else who've been tricked into reading this.

The title of this fic was influenced by Shakespeare's Sonnet 38, which can be found along with Sonnet 147 in my memories, which is where this baby has been kept, also.

The version of the story on is tamed to an R. This chapter, along with chapter 4 is supposed to be rated NC-17. Email me at aida.zahar (at) gmail (dot) com, if you want to read the original version. Otherwise, you could go to my LiveJournal (which is under my homepage on my profile) and read it there. It's all in the memories. Happy reading, all.