Undercover Honeymoon
"Marriage is an adventure, like going to war." (G.K. Chesterton)
Lucius found he had to make an effort to steady his hands as he battled with the laces of his wife's dress. Underneath the velvet and spider silk she wore a tightly fastened dragon bone corset, and as he gently worked his fingers underneath the starched fabric and released the stays he could hear her inhale deeply.
Her proud, erect stance slouched somewhat as she leaned forward and steadied herself against the carved wood that supported the canopy of their bed. He realized that her straight-backed pose earlier had as much to do with the artifice of her French dress-maker as with her proud determination to see this latest attack through with him.
Ever since Eleanor had accepted his proposal in summer he had anticipated this very moment in his mind. He had imagined how they might consume their marriage after so many years of waiting. None of the scenarios he had pictured had remotely resembled what he was facing now.
He felt hollow inside, desperately clinging on to his anger so he would not have to imagine Draco sufferingat the hands of the Dark Lord. He knew that if he allowed himself to see is son as injured,in painor dead he would crack; he would not be able to fight this battle.
He had finally unlaced the last fastening and lifted the stiff garment away from her dropping it on the floor as she turned in his arms to face him. Heat radiated from her skin and through the thin silk shift she was wearing. Her eyes met his.
"Well, I guess you didn't think you'd be getting yourself in quite this deep quite this fast when you bound yourself to me," he said.
His tone was light, but he needed to gauge her reaction. He had been pleased to see that Draco and Eleanor had managed to strike up a somewhat amiable relationship over the summer and that his son's attitude had changed from sullen rejection of the new woman in his father's life to courteous respect. Yet the young man was not her own child. How far would she go to help him?
As an answer she smiled and stepped deeper into his embrace. He felt her warmth against his body and tightened his arms around her, but she arched her shoulders away from him just enough to continue keeping her eyes locked with his. Her lips curved into a small smile, and then she quietly quoted his sister's words from the ceremony back at him.
"'Strength to do what you must do, when you must do it, and together as one'," she said. Her right hand touched his face. "A Sartorius does not break her promise. This is my fight as much as it is yours. We can only win together, with both of our skills and knowledge combined. Voldemort knows you, he knows how you think, but he doesn't know me. Therefore we can surprise him. On the other hand, while I know little of him and his abilities, you can anticipate his movements, and so he won't be able to trap us. That should give us an advantage."
She started unbuttoning his robes. "How about a bath, and then I'll need a crash course on the Death Eaters and your former master. We'll come up with a plan."
He shrugged off his coat and stilled her hands for a moment. "I had hoped for a different end to this day," he told her quietly, acknowledging the unquestioning readiness with which she had committed herself to helping him.
For a moment she lowered her eyes, and he thought he could detect a faint blush on her neck and shoulders. "Me too," she confessed. "Though, at least I wasn't expecting to sleep much tonight. I guess I'm still right on that count."
Drizzly, clammy fog shrouded the grounds of Malfoy Manor when two dark and silent figures made their furtive way down the graveled main drive way of the house at first light the next morning. The man and woman wore long coats and each carried a small suitcase. House-elves had carefully scouted the garden and park beforehand and had been unable to locate any spies.
In the entrance hall Eleanor had seen Lucius nod grimly at the news. "They think they won't have to shadow us. The Dark Lord still believes he can activate my mark any time he needs to know where we are. By the time he will learn otherwise we should be far away from here."
She had picked up what little baggage she had packed earlier. "Good," she had said. "Let's keep them in the dark for as long as we can. No magic!"
He had looked at them in their muggle disguises, his lips twitching in displeasure. "No magic," he had echoed her.
Now they were on their way to Gillington, which had a small railway station that would eventually get them into Reading, the first leg of their journey. Eleanor felt apprehensive about immersing Lucius in the muggle world in this way, but he had agreed with her that it would be a move Voldemort would not anticipate, simply because it was something he would never have considered himself if left to his own counsel.
When they finally walked down the sleepy main street of the small Wiltshire town Eleanor already felt less happy about her plan. Her fingers were numb from the cold and the weight of the suitcase and she shuddered as the wet cold cut through her clothes despite the heavy wool coat she was wearing. The witch realized with a jolt how far she had separated herself from her former muggle existence over the last six years. It took her a real effort of will to refrain from spellwork.
"There," she said with relief in her voice as she finally spotted the signpost for the small train station. They waited for an old delivery van to pass before they crossed the road and ducked under the cast-iron and glass arcade of the small Victorian building. A few early commuters stood huddled near the ticket office, reading newspapers, smoking, and generally trying to keep out of the light rain.
Lucius took in his surroundings with an air of profound contempt, but followed Eleanor and did not comment as she made her way through the waiting passengers and purchased two tickets. "This includes the coach fare to Heathrow," said the old man behind the glass pane of the counter and sneezed as he pushed two slips of paper towards her. "Buses leave from outside Reading station every thirty minutes."
As she pocketed the tickets Lucius touched her elbow. "Let's get out of here," he said quietly. "This place is disgusting."
She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "It's dry," she said.
His lips curled in revulsion. "It stinks of muggles, wet dogs, cold smoke and piss. I'd rather get wet," he declared.
She sighed. "It won't get any better you know." But she let him lead her out onto the platform where she finally set down her suitcase. Shivering in the cold she flipped up the collar of her coat to protect her face against the biting wind that hit her. He wordlessly stepped around her and stood in the path of the draught shielding her with his body until the eastbound train arrived.
Eleanor was glad to see that at this time of the morning and this far out from any major city the train was still quiet empty, and they found a small compartment to themselves. At least this way no one took offence at Lucius choice of swear words when he realized he'd almost sat down on a gob of chewing gum that some idiot had stuck on the threadbare and dirty upholstery of his seat.
He looked around and found that the alternatives didn't look much better. Eventually he folded up a discarded newspaper to swipe the contents of a bag of potato chips from another seat. "Merlin, how filthy and disgusting can these muggles get?" he snarled. "I've seen packs of gnomes behave better." He unbuttoned his coat and hung it up before settling in with a sneer.
With a jolt the train started up again, and soon they had left Gillingham and looked out of the window at the bleak landscape that moved past them. The grey light of morning slowly brightened, but it would remain a rainy, blustery day. Eleanor noticed that curiosity had got the better of her husband, and he was sneaking some furtive looks at the muggle newspaper that lay carelessly thrown across the seat next to him.
She watched him as he read. Draco's abduction had finally made him give in and wear some of the muggle clothes she had sent him during his exile and which he apparently had not thrown away when his sentence had been revoked. He had put on a pair of pleated black wool pants and a black, fitted turtleneck sweater that brought out his chest and shoulders to best advantage, though Eleanor knew better than to compliment him on it.
His hair he had gathered at the nape of his neck and bound it tightly with a leather strap. To a cursory observer Lucius might pass as a slightly eccentric London fashion designer who was attempting to channel a more youthful and sexier version of Karl Lagerfeld, but again, this was an observation she wisely decided to keep to herself.
She felt increasingly sleepy as the train passed through the small towns on their way. When they stopped at the stations she half-opened her eyes to read the signs: Pewsey, Bedwyn, Hungerford, Kintbury, Newbury, and then settled down again into a light doze.
At the station in Theale the door to their compartment opened and the conductor and two commuters in suits joined them. Eleanor showed their tickets and noticed a satisfied smirk on Lucius' face when she turned back to him. One of the men now sat in the seat with the discarded gum, but of course her husband had not bothered to warn the muggle. He obviously found the man's misfortune quite amusing.
Biting down on a grin she tried to give him a slightly disapproving stare, but he merely raised his brows and shrugged his shoulders. It was clear he saw right through her. They didn't talk in front of the other passengers until their train arrived in Reading. It was now mid-morning, and Eleanor looked forward to the coach-ride to Heathrow airport with some apprehension.
"We are not supposed to get into that vehicle with these people?" hissed Lucius' disbelieving voice into her ear as she watched the coach driver load their suitcases into the luggage compartments of the bus a little while later. The cold, clammy air outside Reading station was laced with diesel fumes.
They were surrounded by what appeared to be a school-class of boisterous thirteen-year-olds, several sets of parents trying to control cranky, wailing, small children and some business travelers who looked about as exasperated at the general racket as her husband.
"Afraid so, Lucius," she told him under her breath and laid a calming hand on his arm. "It won't take long, I promise. Come on, let's get on." She couldn't be quite sure, but she thought she caught a faint growl from him.
They picked out two seats towards the back of the bus and saw to their relief that most of the other passengers elected to stay at the front. However, just as the coach got ready to leave a woman and a four-year-old got on and settled in right behind them.
Eleanor sighed and hoped the child would behave itself. She cast the occasional nervous glance at her companion and noticed Lucius' lips compress in an ever thinner line as the ride continued. Finally he leaned in on her. "If this muggle brat is kicking the back of my seat one more time…" His quiet, but venomous words trailed off threateningly.
With a sigh she lifted herself up and twisted in her seat. "Excuse me," she told the woman. "Would you terribly mind keeping your son from kicking my husband's back?"
The muggle woman looked at her disapprovingly out of small, narrow-set eyes. "Look," she said shrilly. "The seat rows are much too tight. My son needs some space. You can't expect a little one like this to be quiet. Just move somewhere else if he's bothering you."
Eleanor sat back with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. "Antiauthoritarian education," she said loudly enough for the woman to hear. "Quite the rage among some people."
Lucius' pale eyes narrowed and he gave her a curt nod that told her clearly he didn't want any interference, then he turned around and peered at the boy sitting behind him. The kid, feeling quite protected by the attitude of his mother sank his shoes into the soft upholstery and looked up at him in provocation just to make a point.
"You know," said Lucius conversationally staring down at the boy out of cold grey eyes. "I am friends with Bob Newton from kindergarten who put your head down the toilet in the girls' bathroom once. If you don't sit still now, I'll look him up and tell him to lock you into the dark closet with the cleaning stuff at the end of the hallway, the one you are afraid to get near to. There's a boggart in there, you know. And if you're trapped in there in the dark, he'll come and suck your brain out through your nose."
He dropped his voice to a quiet snarl. "If you'd rather avoid that, I suggest you keep your filthy muggle feet out of my seat!"
"MOMMY!" squealed the boy, throwing himself at his mother in a panicked attempt to get away from Lucius. The woman appeared to be speechless with outrage as she gathered her child to her chest. The wizard gave her a satisfied smirk and a small mock bow. "Madam," he purred. "You will find your son much easier to control now."
"Did you just do legilimency on that kid?" Eleanor hissed at Lucius as he settled back down in his seat. Behind him the boy was whimpering as quietly as possible now while his shocked mother was hushing him. "Are you crazy doing magic? You know we can't…"
As an answer he laid his hand across hers and squeezed it hard enough to get her attention. "I resolved this with the least possible degree of magical intervention. A few more minutes of this and I would have blown up the damn muggle brat. That would have really gotten everyone's attention. At least we have some peace and quiet now. So settle down, Eleanor. There's no harm done."
The witch shook her head and wondered briefly about Draco's upbringing. She was surprised how well adjusted the younger Malfoy appeared most of the time. Lucius certainly had a unique way with children.
The thought of the plane ride still ahead of them did not cheer her up. The next obstacle would be the availability of flights. She hoped that they would be able to buy tickets at the airport and that they would not have to wait too long for their departure. How would Lucius take to flying without a broom, she wondered. At least wizards' quiddich practice in school meant they typically didn't get airsick.
Fortunately their luck held out. A bored employee at the British Airways counter in Terminal 1 sold them two tickets to Cologne airport for a flight that left at half past three in the afternoon. To her surprise she then managed to interest Lucius in another muggle paper which she bought for him from one of the news stands and they settled into a quiet corner of a small pub on the mezzanine level of the terminal building for a few drinks and some food to wait.
The flight also went off without a hitch, despite the fact that Lucius seemed unhappy about being jammed yet again into a small seat in a coach like interior. "Are you sure muggles didn't steal some magic to pull this off," he whispered to her as the plane left the ground. "How can such a hulk of metal fly without any spells?"
But he seemed to take to flying quite well, and she noticed that their sleepless night finally caught up with him. By the time the plane had reached cruising altitude his body leaned against her shoulder and he was fast asleep. She looked out of the window at the sun-drenched tops of the clouds planning ahead for their train-ride from the airport to the town center in Cologne and hoping yet again that her theory on the whereabouts of the Mirror of Battle was right.
She couldn't help thinking about Draco, remembering his grudging acknowledgement of her feelings for his father when she had met with him during Lucius' time in Azkaban. She recalled him waving at her, laughing and shouting instructions when he had taught her how to handle her new Firebolt, and she saw him clearly before her as he had summoned her to the handfasting only a day ago. He had wished her good luck, and he had looked like he'd meant it.
Eleanor sighed and tried to relax against her sleeping husband. The real challenge, the real battle was still ahead of them, and never had she felt less assured of victory.
