Chapter Ten

The world around me snapped into focus. I found that Draco was seated on the velvet sofa, and I was nestled in his lap. My body had melted into his, my arms were wrapped around his neck, and I was pressing little kisses to his face. He smelled so nice, with a faint trace of cologne that was spicy, like carnations or clove. It was a "rich boy" kind of smell.

"You are absolutely adora-"I stopped, horrified. "What am I doing?" I cried. I began to panic, trying to squirm off his lap.

"Hold on, you're not going anywhere," Draco smiled, his arms tightened around me. "You were just telling me how gorgeous and sexy I am. You see, Miriel, that spell was a variation of the imperious curse. It forces the person to act on their secret feelings, the kind that people even hide from themselves."

"That's the creepiest thing I've ever heard. That's even worse than the silencing spell. Why would you do something like that?" I asked him shakily. He obviously had some massive insecurity problems, and for some reason they revolved around Harry Potter.

"To know what your true feelings about me are. It seems you really like me." He said this with a bit of surprise and wonder in his voice, as if this was something he had not quite unexpected. "I tried this on Pansy one time, and while she was under the spell she slugged me so hard I thought she was going to give me brain damage."

"I don't like you!" I pushed against his chest as hard as I could, desperate to get away. "You are a horrible, spoiled, nasty, evil-" My arm flew out to hit him, but his hand was instantly there blocking it. I blinked at him in surprise.

"This year Father hired me a trainer so I could learn Muggle fighting." Draco said, smirking. His gray eyes were bright with triumph. "My trainer is a vampire slayer, and he's teaching me how to fight a lot faster. Father's right, inflicting pain physically is so much more satisfying than using a wand." He sighed in bliss. "The look on Potter's face was priceless."

"That is barbaric," I told him, injecting as much iciness into my tone as I possibly could. "Your spell is obviously a load of crap, because-"

Draco pulled me closer against him. "That spell never lies," he muttered against my cheek. Before I could say anything else, his mouth captured mine. After a moment his lips softened and became warm and velvety. He was a great kisser, I had to admit, and he didn't kiss like a sixteen year old boy. His tongue stroked my lower lip, flickering smoothly inside my mouth. My hands had been pushing against his chest, but now they were slipping up into his hair, my fingers weaving themselves into the silky strands. I lost all sense of time as he plundered my mouth.

"Draco-"I gasped, breaking my mouth away from his.

"What?" He asked, smirking. "Still think I'm a kid?" He proceeded to press light kisses along my jaw and then down my neck. A soft moan filled my throat, and I tilted my head back, allowing Draco further access as he sucked at the soft skin. His mouth had just found the sensitive spot at the base of my throat, when a mocking voice interrupted us.

"I'm not one for Muggle sayings," Mr. Malfoy announced in his velvety drawl, "But I believe this one is appropriate- Get a room."

I shrieked and flung myself off of Draco's lap, landing back onto the sofa. Mr. Malfoy stood there looking down at us, smirking with amusement. He had obviously just arrived home from his business meeting. He still carried a black leather briefcase. His long, black robes fluttered about him, and his silvery hair was rather windblown. We had been so distracted, we hadn't even heard him floo in.

"Hello, Father," Draco told him calmly. His lips were swollen, and his hair was poking up in every direction, but otherwise, he looked composed.

I was sure my face was bright pink. I stared at Mr. Malfoy's boots, too stricken with horror to speak.

"Well, it appears that both of you have had a pleasant day. Draco, I'd like to see you in my study when you're...finished." Mr. Malfoy arched an eyebrow and walked towards the hallway, a rather smug smile on his face. Obviously he hadn't heard anything about Draco's fight with Harry Potter in front of Ollivander's shop.

Of course Mr. Malfoy was happy to catch us making out, I thought. He wanted to marry me off to his son. I covered my face with my hands. "Oh my God," I moaned. "What am I doing?" I jumped up from the sofa and grabbed my packages. At the last moment before leaving the room, I turned.

"And just so you know," I told Draco, "I will never, ever marry you- not even if your dad and the Dark Lord himself threaten to curse me off the face of the earth!" Feeling a flash of satisfaction at the look of surprise and dismay on the boy's face, I ran to my bedroom.

Once there, I curled up on my bed and sobbed into my pillow. It was all just too much. So much had happened in the last few days. I hadn't even had time to be homesick or to process things much, and now I felt overwhelmed and exhausted. I hadn't even had time to say goodbye to anybody in New Orleans, and I had a sense of needing closure with my friends and the few people who had been kind to me after my mother had died. They probably thought I had been kidnapped or killed by now. Pieces of my conversation with Professor Dumbledore came back to me. I found myself wishing that he had taken me back to Hogwarts with him, where I would feel safe. I could have had friends there, and talked to Harry and anybody else whenever I wanted to without them getting the tar beaten out of them. I really longed for someone to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be okay.

I pulled out the welcoming package that Professor Dumbledore had sent home with me. In the back of "The Complete Dummy's Guide to the Wizarding World," there was a glossary of beginning spells. Taking out my new wand, I tried the spell that would restore the items to normal size. "Engorgio," I whispered. To my delight, the toy dragon turned out to be huge. It was soft and green and had iridescent wings, and I hugged it to myself as I curled up on the enormous bed.

After awhile, I heard someone knocking on my door, and it opened.

"Miriel, what do you mean you won't marry-"Draco's voice changed from indignation to panic. "What are you doing? Are you crying? For Merlin's sake, don't cry!"

"Go away," I sniffed miserably. I looked up to see his frightened face. Honestly, I guess people in his family never cried. I couldn't imagine Mrs. Malfoy ever crying or being sad. The cold witch would probably just curse whoever was bothering her into oblivion and go on her merry way.

"I'll take you back to Diagon Alley if you weren't finished shopping," He said, obviously unsure of himself. "We'll go to the pet shop. We'll get you any kind of familiar you want."

I rolled my eyes in disgust. "Don't be such a dumbass."

"Well, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that you keep casting nasty, horrible spells on me. You probably bruised my arm dragging me around like that. You're a control freak. You are just like your father." I threw this last part out hatefully like a curse, knowing that was the one thing teenage boys hate to hear.

"I'm nothing like my father!" Draco wailed. "And I didn't seriously hurt you or anything. I wouldn't do that."

I sat up on the bed and wiped my eyes, trying to think of a way to explain things so that he could understand. "Do you remember in New Orleans, when you were lost without your wand? Do you remember how you felt when those guys who were drunk outnumbered you, and they hit you?" He had looked absolutely miserable when I found him on the bench.

"It was awful." His face became unusually thoughtful. "It was...humiliating. I felt helpless, and angry. It infuriated me that those bastards had control over me. I hated being lost. I wished that my father was there to protect me."

"That's how I feel. I don't like being controlled any more than you do. I don't like feeling helpless and scared, either."

Draco's face was sullen and sad. He sat on the edge of my bed with a sigh. "So that's it. You feel like a Muggle. I didn't think about it like that." After a few moments, he said, "I'm...I'm sorry." The words seemed to stick in his throat as though he wasn't used to apologizing. He picked at the embroidery on my bedspread. "I guess I just forgot that you're not a Slytherin."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You don't even go to my school." He swallowed, and crossed his arms over his stomach as though he found talking about it to be painful and difficult. "At school I have to control the Slytherins all the time, or they'd turn on me. I have to bully them into obedience. And my house expects me to intimidate the other houses, especially Gryffindor. If I don't, my house won't respect me."

"So let me get this straight. You have to bully people all the time at school?" I was curious in spite of myself. "You sound like you're in charge of the Slytherins or something."

"Well, in a way I am. The Slytherin house is full of purebloods, and their parents support the Dark Lord. I'm sure Potter couldn't wait to tell you all about that." A flash of irritation crossed his face. "My father has the most power and influence with the Dark Lord, so it's an unspoken rule that I'm in charge of the Slytherin house. Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise used to be my friends when we were little, but since the Dark Lord returned... it's just gotten really political. My housemates either fear me or they want to suck up to me because their parents want favor with my father. The Slytherins can be treacherous, ambitious and sneaky. It's what they're known for. It's almost impossible to know how they really feel about anything. They're great actors. I think they probably all secretly hate me. I know I do them."

"I can't imagine living like that," I told him softly. "You must be really lonely."

Draco studied my bedspread intently and wouldn't look at me. "It's just...you're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time," he finally said, and his voice was so soft and low, I had to lean over closer to catch his words. "I can't stand the thought of you liking that stupid git, Potter. He has enough friends. Even Granger and Weasley, as pathetic as they are, are so loyal to Potter, they'd do anything for him. I've never had that."

"Draco, you sound like you want to marry me," I told him. "But you don't even know me very well."

"I know that you don't want anything from me, and that you wouldn't hurt me. I feel...safe around you. I also think you're quite shag-worthy," he said with a small grin.

"Shag-worthy?" I said. Was that some kind of British compliment?

"That's more than I thought I would ever have. Pureblood parents usually arrange their children's marriages when the children are still little. My parents arranged for me to marry Selene- that was Professor Snape's niece- but she died before I left for Hogwarts. It's been hard for them to find someone now that I'm older. My mum has been trying to push me toward Pansy Parkinson, but I can't stand that stupid wench. And Millicent Bullstrode- ugh!" He shuddered. "She could win me in a wrestling match."

"Draco, if you want me to like you, you're going to have to be a hell of a lot nicer and more respectful to me. You'd better remember that I'm not in slytherin. And as far as marriage goes, I'm really scared about it. I don't think I can do it." I chewed my bottom lip, and I had a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach just thinking about it. "I mean, you're cute and everything..."

"And don't forget that I'm rich, sexy and powerful," Draco said with a smirk.

"But I'm only nineteen. I'm not ready to get married."

"We'll wait until I graduate from Hogwarts, of course, so you'll have a year or so to get used to the idea. Just think of it. Someday we'll have a castle all to ourselves. It'll be so romantic. I'll replace the house elves with Granger and Weasley. I'll be spending my time torturing Potter down in the dungeons, and you'll be busy having cute little babies that'll look just like me!" He laughed at the scenario he conjured up.

"Babies? Oh my God!" I rolled my eyes and buried my face in my dragon. "Don't even talk about that. Aren't you scared about it at all?"

"I've always known it would be this way," He told me, shrugging. "I'm the only Malfoy heir, so it falls to me to keep the family going. Come on, it won't be so bad, will it? It might even be fun." He leered and wriggled his eyebrows at me. When he saw that he had failed to cheer me up, he became more sober. "Listen to me, Miriel. Don't fight my father about this. I know that he likes you, but he won't tolerate disobedience. He's used to getting what he wants. And for Merlin's sake, don't tell him you talked to Dumbledore."

I smiled weakly at him. "I think I need to be alone for a little while, Draco. Maybe I'll go read in the library." I had always found books to be quite relaxing. There was something about them that was comforting. No doubt it had something to do with my mother reading so much to me when I was a child.

"Okay, but my father wants to see you in his study pretty soon. He said he'd send a house elf for you when he was ready. He went to Gringott's today and opened an account for you. I think he's about to owl our engagement announcements to everyone, and my mother is also planning an engagement party." Draco leaned over and kissed me gently. "It will be okay, Miriel," he murmured. "I'll really try to make you happy. I won't be like my father. I won't."

I was in the library, reading one of the "Dummy's Guides" and sucking on lemon drops when Twinky popped in to guide me to Mr. Malfoy's study. I had been dreading talking to him again, ever since Professor Dumbledore had told me that he had killed my father. I wasn't sure if I despised Mr. Malfoy for it, or felt sorry for him. The fact that he was actively serving the Dark Lord really made my skin crawl.

Mr. Malfoy was busy with a quill, scratching out figures in a big, leather bound book. There were piles of parchments and paperwork all over his enormous desk. I sat down in a soft, leather chair, balancing my book and bag of candy on my lap. The office was full of books, and he obviously collected magical items that he displayed on the shelves.

"Here is the key to your vault at Gringott's," He said, handing me an envelope. "Now remember, if you wish to withdraw money from your account, you need to bring the key with you. The bloody goblins won't even speak to you without it."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I don't have any way of repaying you."

He smiled. "My dear, you pay me with your beautiful presence. I must say, your appearance has improved remarkably. I almost thought for a moment today that my son had brought some strange girl home." I could tell by the glint in his eye that he was teasing.

I smiled, and quickly looked down at the book on my lap.

"Are you alright, today, Miriel? You seem rather...apprehensive. I would have thought that all that shopping would have put you in a good mood."

I drew a deep breath. "I have to admit that I'm not really sure about getting married. It really scares me to think about it. Maybe Draco and I could have more time to know if we'll get along..."

"You seemed to be getting along well enough today." He smiled and brushed my concerns away with a wave of his hand. "My dear, everyone is naturally quite nervous about marriage. Even those couples who profess to be deeply in love feel a certain amount of apprehension about it. I sense that something else is troubling you. You do have the most transparent face I know."

I looked up at him, stricken. As in New Orleans, I again had that spooky impression that he could see inside my mind with those silvery eyes, and know what I was thinking.

He stood from his chair and approached me slowly, his black velvet robes swirling around his legs. "If I didn't know better, Miriel, I would say that you were even frightened of me." His gray eyes held mine steadily.

I fingered the bag of my candy nervously in my lap, and the cellophane crinkled.

It caught Mr. Malfoy's eye. "What is that you have? Boiled sweets?" He picked the bag up. "Muggle sweets. In the shape of...lemons."

I nodded. "They're lemon drops."

"And where did you get these?" Mr. Malfoy's voice took on a hard edge, and his eyes became positively frosty. He crumbled the bag in his hand and flung it to the floor. His lips twisted into a snarl.

"Um..." My mind scrambled frantically for something to say.

"Don't try to lie to me." He gripped my jaw with his hand, and tilted my face up to stare deeply into my eyes. "Dumbledore." He spit the name out like a curse. "You have been in contact with that meddling, conniving, hypocritical old man. He used to offer me this bloody candy at Hogwarts every damned time I was called into his office!" Mr. Malfoy began to pace back and forth in the room, like a wild animal trapped in its cage. "What did he tell you?" He finally snarled at me. "As if I didn't know."

"That you serve the Dark Lord," I whispered, hugging my book to my chest as though it was a shield. "And that you killed my father."

I gasped as Mr. Malfoy turned and smashed his fist through a mirror on the wall. It was scary enough when Draco was angry, but he was only a pale imitation of his father. I stood and was about to make a run for it, but Mr. Malfoy grabbed his cane and with a bloody hand, whipped his wand out. "Sit down," he screamed.

I perched on the edge of my seat. My heart pounded rapidly, and I wished to God that I was anywhere else but there.

The wizard proceeded to curse and shatter everything that was breakable in his office with his wand, even shooting the glass out of the windows and breaking the strange crystal spheres that lined his shelves. With every explosion I jumped, wondering when he was going to turn on me.

But finally Mr. Malfoy stopped and drew a long, ragged breath. His office was in shambles, and there was broken glass everywhere. "Where was my son," He asked me. "While you were having your little chat with Dumbledore? Why did he not inform me of this?"

"He was at "Quality Quidditch Supplies," I said breathlessly. "I told him to go, because he didn't want to go into the beauty shop, and-"

Mr. Malfoy raised his hand, stopping me. "My son is an idiot, and he does not listen to me. He never listens. And it doesn't help when his drunk of a mother coddles him. If he doesn't learn some kind of responsibility and begin to act like a man, I fear he will end up in an early grave. But I will deal with him later."

"I was forced to kill Gaius, or the Dark Lord would have killed both of us," he told me. "But it was Dumbledore and your mother who were ultimately responsible for my brother's death. I seriously doubt that the old fool told you that. Gaius was a loyal Death Eater, and somehow Dumbledore changed him. He did something to lure my brother away from his loyalties. The brother I knew would never have let Miranda escape. What else did Dumbledore say to you?"

"Just that he wants me to go to Hogwarts."

Mr. Malfoy studied my face intently, once again searching my eyes. "There's something else that you're hiding from me," He said. "Something about...Harry Potter."


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