A/N: So, the last chapter looked like a set up to some of you guys, huh? Hehe, I'm so evil.
Posted: April 21, 2005
Chapter Twenty-five: In the Beginning
Funny, the words you remember.
Funny, the conversations that haunt you.
"You want to leave me? Fine. But don't you come crawling back when you realize you need me."
Need. If anyone needed anyone, it was he who had needed her. He had needed her to be there. He had needed her to be his warmth from the cold, but most of all, he just needed her to love him.
"Need you? Don't you get it Draco? I never needed or loved you."
And she didn't needed him, Draco always knew that, because she was a strong independent woman. One who could easily survive without him, but the other way around, had been more then unbearable.
"Because who could ever love a controlling, possessive, cold-hearted, sadistic murderer, void of any real emotions?"
She had been right about him, he was all those things. It was true then and it was true now, even eight years, eight long years after the fact. But she had been wrong about him being void of any real emotions, because when it came to her, he could almost drown in it. Because for some reason, she was the first who could make feel, truly and really feel, he knew it the moment he realized her words had cut him to the core and she could see it.
"Draco, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
But he knew she had, the tone of her voice had given her away. But he gave into her lies because of his need for her. But had they all been lies? Every loving glance? Every sweet word? Every tender kiss?
By Merlin, Draco didn't want to believe it so, but then came the news that the blood that covered the dagger the night Angelina 'disappeared' was not her own, but Percy's. But if she was not the one wounded, why had she not returned to him. Maybe she couldn't, but then again. . .
"I'm taking you up on your offer. Like I should have done the first time."
. . . maybe she just didn't want to.
"Tell me Vincent, if she did leave me, do you think she returned to him. Weasley I mean, Fred?"
"No," Crabbe simply stated.
"Why not? I know she loved him," Draco said sadly. "More than me anyway."
Crabbe turned to his friend. He was the only one left privileged enough to see the real Draco. The sad, lonely, broken Draco, who had become a hollow man of his former self. Yet he met everyone else with a cold, hard, and sharp tongue demeanor, as if nothing effected him, as if nothing had changed. "No, I was with her the last time she saw Weasley. She loved you, that I know for sure. Besides, how can you return to a dead man?" Draco only looked at him curiously. "Weasley was the first to attack us when we were heading towards the east wing," Crabbe explained as he remembered how Draco's vision was that day.
"Then why would she leave me?" Draco asked himself as he stepped out onto the balcony outside of his study. "Why would she leave Rosalina?" They were questions he seem to ask himself everyday. He shook his head. "She wouldn't. Not on her own accord," He answered himself. "She promised she would never leave me. She promised."
"Draco, I don't want to leave you, but I will if it means you'll live. I need you to live."
Had he been in some kind of danger? Some danger he didn't know about? Some danger he was still in? That had to have been it; there was no other reason for her to leave him.
Because no matter how much Draco tired to convince himself that her I love you's were lies, he knew they weren't. Because there was no way, she could look at him the way she used to and not love him. So Draco knew she didn't come back because she was trying to protect him somehow, but from what or from whom he didn't know.
"Father?" Draco was pulled from his thoughts as his daughter's voice reached his ears. He was memorized by the setting sun he was watching from his balcony. This was always Angelina's favorite time of day, as he recalled how she use to stand by the patio door and watch the sunset on the estate of the Manor.
"Yes, child?" His voice was deadpan as his back was still to her. "What is it that you need?"
"Only to wish you a happy birthday, father," Rosalina told him. Draco then slowly turned around and looked upon his daughter. She was a beautiful little girl, of nine years old, with big bright eyes and fair brown skin. Her hair was in a wild, but presentable, array of curls. It was usually kept in a loose afro with a headband that matched her outfit, to keep her hair out of her face. She was dressed in the finest clothes, with elaborate embroidered designs and jewels from the heart of South Africa.
She was starting to look so much like her mother that it actually pained Draco whenever he had to look at her. "Come in, Rosalina," he told her for he knew she was standing by the doorway waiting for permission to enter the study. Draco walked back over to his desk and sat down; there were a few important documents he had to get through before the end of the day. "Well?" he asked as Rosalina stood before his desk, but said nothing. It was then that Draco noticed the box she was carrying.
Rosalina was looking down at it as if she was debating something over in her head. Draco smiled inwardly; it was one of the few moments where she actually looked like him. "I have a present for you," her voice was almost frightened. Draco forehead furrowed at the sound of her shaky voice.
Rosalina stood there with her hands close to her chest as she held the rectangle box she had wrapped herself. Finally she tilted her head up and just looked at her father. Her father was a King, a good King at that, most would even considered him a God because he was the most powerful of their kind. But being a good King didn't automatically mean he was good father. He was always busy and barely ever at home, leaving her in the hands of her Godfather, or a caretaker, or even a tutor on a few accounts.
But he tried, that she knew, but for some reason, for the longest time, she got the eerie feeling that he didn't like having her around. Like there was something about her that bothered him, but she knew better now. "Here," she said as she put the box on the table.
Draco took the box curiously and unwrapped it so gracefully that he didn't even tear the paper. As he opened the box and saw what was inside a frown marked his lips and his forehead creased once again. He turned to Rosalina and asked angrily. "Where did you get these?"
Frightened by her father's reaction, she took a stepped back. Rosalina had only been spanked once by her father, for disobeying him, and although she didn't mean to, it was still an experience she didn't want to repeat anytime soon. Though on that day she did learn something very valuable.
She had been seven years old and her father had actually taken her with him on one of his business trips. They had entered a banquet hall, which had a handful of people, and as they did Draco took her small hand. As they walked through he spoke without looking at her. "You are to be on your best behavior, which means seen and not heard. Understood?"
"Yes, father," she replied half paying attention as she took in her surroundings.
"Sit here." He escorted her to a table and sat her down. "Stay where I can see you." She nodded before he walked off saying something that that sounded a lot like. "Filthy Muggles. Damn Treaty."
Rosalina sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap as she watched her father discuss terms of a Treaty. She had recognized a few people, like Lough and Lawson, but the rest of the people where strangers to her.
She jumped when she heard her father's voice boom at a word she had never heard before. She arched an eyebrow as she wondered what the word Mutant meant and why it had upset her father, who was trying to explain the difference between what they were, witches and wizards and this term mutant.
"Hello, little girl," said a man as he sat down next to Rosalina. Rosalina looked at him and politely nodded. "What's your name?" he asked with a smile.
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," she informed him.
"Well then, I must say that's a very wise choice," he told her. "So how about I introduce myself then?" he asked. "My name is Percy."
Rosalina glanced up to look at her father to ask for guidance, but he was still vividly auguring with a Muggle, so she looked back at the stranger. "I'm Rosalina, daughter of Lord Malfoy," she said proudly.
Percy laughed lightly. "Yes, I know." His blue eyes sparkled as he sighed. "I can't believe how much you look like your mother."
"My mother?" Rosalina's full attention was now on the man who sat beside her. "What do you know of my mother?" she asked with hopeful eyes. She had asked Draco once before how come she didn't have a mother like other children, but he said nothing as he retreated into himself. He then sent her to spend the week with her Godfather Crabbe, so she never bought it up again.
"I know a lot about your mother." Percy looked up at Draco to make sure he was still well distracted, but even if he did glance over by chance from his argument, the odds of him recognizing him were small. Percy had gotten rid of his trademark Weasley hair, it was now a dark rich shade of brown. He also no longer wore glasses and his face which had barely ever donned a smile when he was younger, now always carried one. His skin was also a nice golden brown from spending a lot to time in the sun. "Probably more than your dear father will ever know."
"Tell me about her," Rosalina demanded. "All I know is what my Godfather would tell me."
"And what was that?" he asked.
"That she died," she stated sadly. "In the last war." She looked back up at her father. "I think it's why he pushes so hard for peace."
"Tell me Rosalina, what would you say, if I told you your mother wasn't dead? And that you could see her?"
She turned to him suspiciously and said angrily. "I want you to go away. Now."
Percy smiled. "Yes, you are definitely your father's child." When Rosalina realized the stranger wasn't going to leave, she got up to move to a table occupied with other people who were watching the negotiation. So she was unaware of the wand secretly pointed in her direction. "Imperio." Rosalina froze where she stood and turned back to Percy. "Take my hand," he told her as he stood up and then started to walk her out of the banquet hall.
Rosalina knew what she was doing was wrong, she wasn't supposed to go with strangers, but she couldn't stop herself as she did what she was told. She wanted to scream, she wanted to fight, but found she could do nothing, but obey the stranger.
They were almost out the door when Draco finally calmed down to re-discuss the terms of the Treaty. By chance he glanced at the table were he had sat down Rosalina, only to find it empty. He then noticed the banquet room door being opened and saw the strange man who was holding his daughter's hand and leading her away.
Draco's heart jumped into his throat at the sight and thinking only that he had to get to his daughter, he leapt over table and sprinted clear across the room. He grabbed her roughly, picking her up in his arms. With Rosalina securely in his grasp, he looked up to the man who had tried to kidnap his daughter, but he Apparated before he could get a good look.
Draco's blood boiled as he set Rosalina back on the floor and stayed squatted before her with one hand on each arm. "What the hell were you doing?" he asked in a harsh whisper. Rosalina only blinked rapidly and shook her head. "What did I tell you?" he said through clenched teeth. "Didn't I tell you to stay put?" Rosalina said nothing and he shook her a little. "Huh?"
"Yes," she said in a tiny voice almost on the verge of tears.
Draco rose quickly as Lough came up by his side. "My Lord is everything alright?"
"That is none of your concern," Draco spat before saying calmly. "Now I must tend to my daughter, I pray you and Lawson can handle the rest of the negotiations." Before Lough could even respond Draco had Apparated with Rosalina.
A moment later they were back at home and Draco had a belt in hands. He told her to turn around and she wordlessly complied. She had been spanked before, but it usually came from a certain caregiver, so she was completely unprepared for her father's strength as she felt the hot sting of the belt on her backside. And if that wasn't enough, Draco yelled at her loudly as he whipped her. He had struck her ten times before he let the belt fall lazily from his hand as it turned red and throb from holding the belt so tightly.
Rosalina, with her back still to him, shook uncontrollably in her pain. She wanted to show her father that she was strong and that she would not cry out, so she blinked back her tears as she felt her father rest on his knees before turning her around.
Her eyes widened as she saw tears in her father's eyes and watched them run down his face. "Don't you ever-" his voice broke, "ever do anything like that again. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, father," she continued to shake.
"No, you don't!" he yelled. "I can't lose you like I lost her and I won't," he told her as he pulled her tightly into his arms. "Do you know how badly you scared me today?" Draco asked. "What if I hadn't gotten to you in time? You don't know what he would have done to you."
"Would you even care?" she softly asked, still holding her tears at bay.
"What?" He slightly pushed her away and looked into his daughter's gray eyes. "My Little Rose, don't you know how much I love you?"
Rosalina looked back and forth into his eyes. "You- you love me?" she asked. Rosalina had known what love was, she saw it all the time when she went to visit her Godfather Crabbe and his family. They always looked so happy that it made Rosalina sick with jealously. Crabbe was always smiling and always playful with his wife Faith and their sons, Greg and Jacob. Sometime Rosalina wished that her father was more like Crabbe instead of always so distant.
"Yes," he stated firmly. "Of course I do. More than you'll ever know." He wiped away the tears that finally raced down her cheeks.
Rosalina threw her arms around him. "I love you too, father." It was the first time they had ever said those words to each other and they would most likely be the last, because there was no reason in stating something that was already known. Her father loved her and that was all she ever really wanted to know.
But right now, as his eyes bore into her, she wasn't quite feeling that love. "Answer me Rosalina. Where did you get these?" Draco asked again. "And do not lie."
Rosalina didn't know why she was so surprised by his actions. She knew she had disobeyed him and that she would have to answer for it. "I found them in that locked room on the fourth floor. The one you told me never to go into."
"Alright," he said calmly. "Now tell me why you violated my rules?"
"I don't know," she said honestly. Something had told her to enter the room; something had pulled her to a certain spot and told her to do this. It was almost like that time with that strange man she had met. She didn't tell her father about the voice that had been in her head. Now then and not now, because she was sure he would have thought her crazy.
Rosalina then watched Draco sigh as he pulled out a packet of photos, that for him seemed like they were taken a lifetime ago. A soft smile then appeared on his face as he flipped through them.
Rosalina continued to look at him curiously. His face looked very foreign to her, because it was rare that he had allowed her to see him smile. She then stepped closer and leaned on his chair and looked on as he continued through the photos. She recognized herself, there were plenty of portraits of her around the castle. But the woman in the matching dress, she couldn't quite place. "Was she one of my caretakers?" Draco stopped immediately at the question and looked at his daughter. "I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" she asked as she back away.
"No, of course not," Draco said with a gentleness that was also foreign to her. "Come here." He pulled her into his lap and then showed her a photo. "This is-" he stopped; it had been years since he had said her name. "This is Angelina, your mother."
"My mother?" Rosalina cautiously took the photo into her small hands and stared at it intensely. The stranger had been right; she did look a lot like her. Maybe he wasn't lying; maybe her mother was still out there somewhere.
"Yes," he nodded as he answered her question.
"What happened to her?" Rosalina asked carefully, hopping this time to get the story from her father and not her Godfather.
"She died, when you were just a baby," he told her slowly, it was a fact he wasn't really sure of himself, but he felt ashamed that he never allowed his own child to be able to recognize her own mother. "Know that she was strong, loving, and very devoted to both of us."
Rosalina looked at her father's sorrow felt face, there was so much emotion in him as he looked upon the photo still in her hands. Her father wouldn't lie to her, Rosalina concluded, so if he said she was dead then it had to be true. The stranger was a liar. "Do you miss her?" she asked.
"Like the desert misses the rain," he answered her sadly and held her closer. "But she left me with a precious child. One who looks more like her with every passing year." He smiled at her.
"Father." Rosalina reached for the box that was still on the table. "Don't forget the other gift. Draco reached back into the box and pulled out a book. "I couldn't open it," she told him. "But something told me it was important." She accidentally let slip.
"It is." Draco smiled before whispering a small chant. "Here, now try." He handed it to Rosalina.
She opened the book warily and looked confused as she saw the book wasn't really a book, but a box disguised to look like one. "I don't understand." She looked at her father. "Why would you keep sand?"
"Have you been practicing your Summoning charm?" he asked as he laid the book on the desk.
She nodded her head with delight. "Yes."
"Then how about a demonstration?" From what Draco had learned from Rosalina's tutors she was very gifted with wandless magic and he doubted if she would even need a wand when she began school. "Go on now," he urged her. "It's only one object."
And so she rolled up her sleeve and stretched out her hand towards the book. She had a serious look on her face, determined to please and impress her father. "Accio!" she said strongly and a delicate soft object flew into her hand. "It's a yellow flower," she said as she shook the remaining sand off of it. "I still don't understand."
Draco took the flower from his daughter's hand. "It's a tulip," he explained as he put it to her nose to smell. "It was the first gift your mother ever gave to me. I put a charm on it to preserve it to. . . well," he shrugged, "to the end of time, I guess."
"Tell me about it." She smiled excitedly.
"About the charm?"
"No, about when she gave it to you. I want to know what my mother was like," Rosalina said eagerly, hoping to learn as much as she could before he closed back up on her or realized that he had to get back to work.
"Of course. Where should I begin?" he pondered.
"Start at the very beginning," she suggested.
"Alright, the very beginning then." So Draco got comfortable and began his tale at the very beginning when he first met the girl, who would be the woman, he would love the rest of life and most likely beyond it as well.
Because Draco knew, if Angelina was alive and she came back to him today, that he would, without question, take her back with open arms. He would often ask himself, why? Because all she had ever brought him was misery or some form of it. But then again he already knew why, and that was all that truly mattered.
OoOoO
It was a bright sunny day as white clouds drifted slowly across the summer sky. A little boy about eight years of age, played by himself as he tried to figure out how to use what he heard one kid call a 'swing'. It was his first time in a park, around children who weren't very quiet, but loud and playful in a way he had never seen before.
So the little boy, with the name of Draco, studied the swing carefully, too stubborn in his ways to ask another child how to use it. He then turned to look at his mother, but she wasn't paying any attention to him. She was sitting on a bench reading some trashy romance novel.
So Draco figured he was on his own on this. So he figured this 'swing' was something you sat in, so he grabbed the chain on either side and lifted himself to sit on it. And that's what he did, he sat. His legs dangled from his seated position because his feet didn't quite reach the ground. "Hmm," he pondered out loud.
"Kick your legs," he heard a voice to his left say. He turned his head to see a girl take a sit in the other swing. "Well, go on," she urged him, but he just stared. "Hello," she waved her hand in front of his face. "Earth to blondie. Are you retarded or something?"
"No, I'm not retarded," he snapped back.
"You could have fooled me," she said. "Now kick."
"Kick what?" he asked.
The little girl groaned. "The air, stupid."
"Hey, stop with the name calling," he demanded. "I'm not stupid."
"Hey, I call them as I see them." The little girl than began kicking her legs back and forth and she swung higher into the air. "Now come on, swing with me." Draco tired imitating her actions, but he couldn't quite pull it off. She was taller than him and she was able to gain momentum by using the ground. "Stop," she told him. "Before you hurt yourself." Her swing slowed to a stop and she got off. She stood behind him and grab each side of his swing. "I'm going to push you up and when I let go, that's when you start swinging, okay?"
"Yes," he confirmed before he felt her lift him up into the air and he followed her instructions. She got back on her swing and before long the two were in sync with each other as they swung back and forth. After a few minutes Draco turned his head towards her. "Want to play something else?" he asked.
The girl looked to him, baffled by his question. It wasn't often that someone willingly wanted to play with her. "Sure," she said happily. "Come on, there are tons of stuff we can do," she told him as she slowed down her swing enough just to jump off of it. "Try it!" she encouraged him.
"No, I like my skull in one piece, thank you," he told her as he let his swing stop on its own and then hopped off. "What can we do now?" he asked.
"Come on." She grabbed his hand and dragged him all around the playground. They played on the monkey bars, the merry-go-round, the titter-tatter, and climbed a few trees before they sat down at the edge of playground in a sandbox.
Draco was making a little sandcastle with some of the toys that had been left in the sandbox, when he looked up to see what his playmate was doing. "What's you name?" he asked as he realized he didn't know it.
"I'm Angelina," she told him, not looking up from her own project.
"I'm Draco," he said proudly. "Draco Malfoy."
Angelina looked up and smiled at him. "Thanks for playing with me."
Draco smiled, thinking maybe he should have been the one thanking her. "What are you doing?" He pointed to what she was holding in her hands.
"This?" She held it up. "Oh nothing, just something I'm going to put on my head. You know, like a halo."
"Oh." He then went back to his sandcastle. "What are you making it out of?" He asked, honestly just trying to make conversation.
"Some of the flowers I saw when we were in the wood climbing trees." She then went back to her creation as she hummed. "There," she said once she was done and placed her homemade crown on her head. "What do you think?"
Draco looked at her and smiled wide. "You look stupid."
"Thanks," she said sarcastically before she walked on her knees over to him. "Here, I had one left over." She held up a yellow flower and as she lifted her hand to gently place it behind his left ear, she accidentally brushed his cheek. Draco, not used to being touched so softly, recoiled slightly, but it went unnoticed by Angelina. "Now you're perfect. . . just like me," she beamed.
"Nonsense," he lifted his hand and readjusted the flower, "my mother always tells me I'm perfect. The perfect heir."
"That's only because she's your mum." Angelina then looked around. "I bet that's her right there." She pointed to the blonde headed woman. "The one reading the love story. My mum reads them too."
Draco looked to whom she was pointing towards, suppressing his urge to let her it wasn't polite to point. "Yes, that's my mother," he told her. "But what's a love story?" he asked.
Angelina looked at him strangely and explained simply. "A story, you know a book, were people are in love."
"Yes, I know what a story is," he said annoyed, but then asked curiously, "but what's love?" Truly not knowing what it was. He really didn't have an example of it at home and he had never actually heard the word before.
"You know, it's love," she said. Only being ten years old, she didn't really know how to explain it. "You know, love." She watched as Draco just shook his head. "Okay," she drawled as she tried to think of a way to explain, not even questioning why, he didn't know what it was. "Love it like, when you care for someone and you want to see them everyday, like your mum and dad." Draco arched an eyebrow. He certainly didn't see his parents everyday and days that he did see them, there wasn't a lot of interaction between them. . . like today for instance. "Love is like, when you like someone a whole lot."
"I like you," Draco blurted out.
Angelina giggled. "I like you too."
"Does that mean we're in love?" he asked.
"No, I don't think so," she said as she thought hard about it. "I think for two people to love each other, who aren't in the same family, it needs time to grow into love." She shrugged. "I guess."
Draco ran his fingers absentmindedly through the sand. "Then do you think with time-"
"Angelina!" Draco was interrupted as a woman was calling his playmate. "Angelina, it's time to go home."
Angelina stood up and dusted the sand off her clothes. "Well, I got to go. Maybe we can play next time we see each other." She stepped out of the sandbox and started walking to the other side of the playground where her mother waited for her.
"Wait!" she heard Draco call after her. She turned around to see what he wanted. He looked a little embarrassed. "Do you think, if we had time, that you could love me?" he asked curiously.
Angelina laughed at him. "What a silly question." Which she regretted saying right away as she saw Draco kind of sink into himself as he lowered his head. "But I guess, if we did have time, that I could." As Draco lifted his head back up she smiled at him. She then heard her mother call for her again and so she turned to leave, but Draco took her hand, stopping her once more.
"Would it be for always?" he whispered softly as his eyes seem to plead with hers.
Angelina looked at the strange boy, who didn't know how to use a swing, who did know what love was, and she smiled softly before saying what she always heard her mother tell her father, "Yes, it would be till the end of time."
Draco looked at her quizzically as she let go of his hand and he watched her walk away. A second later he could hear his own mother calling his name and so he started walking towards her. As he did he pulled the flower that Angelina had given him out of his hair and tossed it to ground, but a moment later he stopped and turned around to go pick it up. He smiled softly as he brought the flower up to his nose and took in its fragrance. He then heard his mother call for him again before putting the flower back behind his ear and heeding to her call thinking to himself that he would never forget this day.
Who knew that on a faithful sunny day, that a chance meeting between two lonely children would take place, and that a little girl would plant a seed of hope into a little boy before his father could take a hold of him and turn his soul into a deserted wasteland to match his own?
Who knew that despite the little boy's upbringing that he would believe in something, that in his family, seemed as farfetched as the fairy tales he used to read to himself? Who knew that a little boy living in a world where all he knew was hate and malice would believe in the sayings of a little girl he met so long ago? And who knew that this little girl would return to him a woman and that the seed she planted once upon a time would grow, and that a flower in the desert, would bloom through the sand?
THE END
A/N: At this time I would like to thank all my readers, my reviewers and my non-reveiwers (who I hope will become reviewers, at least for the last chapter) alike. I have put so much time into this story you would not believe it, and what do I do? I set it up for a sequel. I must be out of my mind, but hopefully, I'll see you guys in the X-Men section.
I'm done, I'm done! -Does a dance-
I have to go study for my final exam now. See you guys in the fall!