Author's Note: Curse writer's block and evil computer trojans! Although this chapter has a lot of fluff in it, it was a difficult chapter for me to write. For further details, see my published works. Er, I meant my new Live Journal (which is posted on my bio under "homepage"). I've changed my e-mail on FFNet, but I still use the old one, BTW.
The reference to fairy dust making Mirabel fly is, of course, from the movie, "Peter Pan," where Jason Isaacs plays the groovy-licious Captain Hook.
Everybody needs to read Arsinoe de Blassenville'sfunny, new fic on FFNet about some women who travel back through time to have tea with Colonel Tavington.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
For a moment Draco looked much as he had when he was younger, and about to lose his temper. His silvery eyes narrowed. His lips clenched tightly, and his cheeks flushed pink. "There is that Muggle saying," he bit out, "about curiosity killing the cat."
"You told me to look around," I said, trying to look as innocent as I could. I glanced at the portrait of my mother. My real mother might have stood up for me, but obviously the painted version didn't feel so confident. "I think I'll leave you two alone," she murmured, and slid out of view.
"And you just 'accidentally' managed to find the only portrait in this house that would tell you details about the war," Draco continued. "That's the problem with people in Wizarding paintings. They hold the same memories and emotions of their live models, but they don't always use the same good judgment. The real Severus would never have told you anything. He would have known how dangerous your knowledge of future events would have been…"
"You can't blame me for being curious," I said.
Draco took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. "Bloody hell. I don't know what to do about you now."
"What do you mean by that?" I asked suspiciously.
"If you knew about Potter and Weasley, why didn't you change things?" Draco scrubbed his face with his hands. "Honestly, you can be so pig-headed sometimes. Whatever I tell you not to do, you just run off and do as fast as possible. You've always been like that."
"Well, excuse me for not being a doormat," I said, my voice rising with indignation. Something told me that this must be one of the arguments we had regularly as a married couple. "I wanted to know what happened. I just can't believe that happened to Ron! And poor Harry! And Dumbledore was killed, too…" To my horror, I realized that I would have to go back to the past, and live all these events.
"Sweetheart, please don't do anything stupid," Draco said. "Don't do anything to change the past, would you please? Any little thing you do could change everything. One wrong move could destroy the life we have now. The Dark Lord could win the war, our parents could die, or we might not marry..."
"How could I be happy, knowing that it was at the cost of other people's lives?" I said miserably. "I'm responsible for changing things, now that I know about it. I couldn't stand not warning Harry and Ron about the Death Eaters in Hogsmead."
"I was afraid you'd say that," Draco said with a sigh. He stepped toward me. I started, but he merely gathered me into his arms and held me close. "Sweetheart, people weren't meant to know the future," he murmured into my ear. "How could anyone live their lives if they knew what was coming? Dumbledore would be the first one to tell you that. You know, when I returned to my normal age after that potions accident, I was upset. Dumbledore told me that it was unnatural for people to live in the past. It would have been wrong for me to stay that way without ever growing up, no matter how happy I was. It would be wrong for you to obsess about the future, feeling responsible for other people's lives. What if you saved Potter and Weasley, but other people were killed as a result? You couldn't live with that responsibility."
"I'm sorry," I said miserably, but I doubt he could hear me with my face pressed into his chest. "I wish I hadn't have found out. I wish I could have found another-"
Then he was gently kissing me. I opened my mouth and felt the soft sensual brush of his tongue. My knees gave way and I clung to his shoulders for support. He shifted oddly, as if he were pulling something from inside his shirt. I couldn't imagine why, but I didn't care. His kiss was so soft, so engrossing, I didn't much care to notice anything else.
He pulled me even more tightly to him, his hand delving into my hair, and my mouth wandered down from his mouth to his cheek and then to his neck. As I nibbled his skin, he moaned with pleasure. It was then I felt it- a brush of cool, polished wood against my cheek.
"Obliviate," Draco whispered.
I was floating…on what felt like piles of lush, slippery silk. I opened my eyes just enough to see that the silk was deep green and violet. I must have been dreaming. Turning my face up, I saw waves of green and violet tiffany, shot through with gold thread, flowing down from the canopy above me. Some lamps were turned on in the room. The colored light that wavered on my skin gave me the strange impression that I was underwater.
"You always look like a mermaid in this bed," a voice said quietly. "Like the ones on the Mardi Gras floats." Draco sat next to me and took my hand in his. He wore a robe, and his hair was damp as if he had just taken a shower.
"What happened?" I asked groggily. "Where am I?"
"I kissed you, and you fainted. I like to think of myself as a good kisser, but I never dreamt I was that incredible." He smiled, but his eyes were tense for a moment. "You've been sleeping a bit. What exactly do you remember?"
Slowly it came back to me. "We ran into Gilderoy Lockhart on Bourbon Street, and then we drove here. I was looking around the house…" I had been looking for something. What was it I had been looking for? "That's all. I certainly don't remember you kissing me." My eyes fell involuntarily to his mouth.
Draco nodded with an almost satisfied air. "You must have been absolutely exhausted." He edged closer to me on the bed, and stroked the hair back out of my face. "All that power that went into the Mirror of Emit must have drained you, poor thing."
Something nagged at me from a corner of my mind, but the touch of Draco's hand brushed it away. I closed my eyes against the caress. I could definitely get used to this. To keep myself awake, I wriggled to an upright position, and looked around with wide eyes. "This is your, um, our…"
"Our bedroom, yes," Draco said, smiling in amusement. He brushed aside a curtain of silk so I could see more of the room. "You don't recognize the décor? The bed in your favorite Mardi Gras colors, a fireplace and the entire wall covered in bookshelves? You thought this room terribly romantic. You're the only person I know who thinks that books are sexy."
I nodded, but had a hard time not staring at his mouth. "What's with the canopy, and all the bed drapes?"
"We can pull them around the bed if we want a little more privacy." At my look of puzzlement, he continued with a smile. "We broke the older kids' habit of barging in on us at night, but Mirabel's too small to get it. She gets scared, you see, and… are you alright, Sweetheart?"
I felt my face flush. There was something extremely intimate in sitting here on the bed with Draco, and having him discuss our sex life! For some annoying reason, my mouth went dry.
"You look like you might like to try it again," Draco told me with a smirk. "Without fainting this time."
"Sorry?" I squeaked.
"Kissing. You are in a bed right now, so it would be perfectly safe… if you should find it overwhelming." He edged even closer to me. His eyes seemed to drink in my appearance.
"Aren't you tired of kissing me?" I said the first silly thing that popped into my mind. My heart raced, and I wasn't sure if it was from nervousness or excitement. "I mean, you've been kissing me for what- thirteen or fourteen years now? You must be sick of it by now."
Draco laughed. "But it's all new for you. And you know what the best part is, don't you?"
I shook my head.
Draco leaned against me, his hand sliding through my hair. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, "I know quite well all the places you liked to be kissed."
And he did.
One of the most luxurious experiences in life, I discovered, was to wake tired but sated, cocooned in the warmth of a human body on one side and the warmth of a fireplace on the other. I was vaguely aware of the house elves stoking the fire, and leaving us breakfast on the night table. I smelled the rich aroma of coffee, but I couldn't even seem to move to get any. I stretched cautiously, feeling out the pleasurable aches I'd acquired overnight, and the fingers lying casually on my hip tightened briefly before Draco's arm slid across my belly and pulled me back to him.
"As delightful as this is," he murmured huskily into my ear, "we can't stay in bed forever. My parents are expecting me at the manor this morning. I'm already running late as it is. Aren't you hungry for breakfast? For some reason, I seem to have distracted you from eating last night."
I groaned and buried my face in the pillow. "You must have really liked this," I said, my voice clotted with the little sleep I had managed to get. "It must have been like you were cheating on me with a younger woman. You seemed awfully sure of yourself last night." I should have played hard to get.
"Well, you obviously weren't a virgin when we got married," he told me, brushing my hair aside and running kisses along the nape of my neck. I could feel him smiling. "Let me see, from the time that Severus used your virgin's blood for his potion, until you went through the mirror, you had very limited contact with men. It could have been Lupin, of course. Or Severus, Hagrid, Dumbledore…"
"Ugh!" I hit him with a pillow. "Stop it. You're just being disgusting."
Suddenly the room was filled with a delicate, chiming sound.
"The Floo bell," Draco told me with a sigh. "Somebody's here, probably from the manor to nag me about showing up." He raised himself up on an elbow and studied me. "I wonder when you're supposed to leave, when Dumbledore will call you back. I wonder if I should take you to the Manor with me. I can't very well leave you here alone. You might go snooping around."
"I do not snoop!" I said indignantly. "I never snoop."
Draco raised an eyebrow and snickered.
"I don't want to leave," I said with a sigh. "I don't want to go back to Hogwarts. Everything is such a mess there. I'll have to leave Hogwarts, and live in the same house as that Molly Weasley. It's going to be such a drag. I want to stay here with you." The knowledge struck me hard, as I lay watching Draco, that I was desperately in love with him.
"You silly girl," he said, "I'm there, too, in the past."
"Not like this," I said. "Here you're mature, and nice, and-"
"Don't be so naïve, Darling," he said. "You know the old saying. You can take the boy out of Slytherin…"
"What?"
"But you can't take the Slytherin out of the boy." Something flashed in his eyes, but then it was gone.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, exasperated. I still felt that something wasn't quite right.
He shook his head. "Nothing. I am the same person in your time, albeit less mature. I was extremely frightened, and insecure. All I knew how to do was lash out. Before you, I don't think I ever felt love. I'm not really sure- "Here his voice grew rough, and he swallowed. "I'm not really sure that I really knew what it was. You and the kids mean everything to me."
I threw myself on top of him, and wrapped my arms around his neck. "I can't leave you! Why can't the older me go back instead?" The image popped into my mind. What would my mother say if I returned to Hogwarts, older and pregnant? I grinned a little in spite of myself.
Just then the bedroom door flew open with a crash, and someoneran to the bed in a rush. "Father," started a boy's voice.
Draco hurriedly pushed me off him. "Er, wait a minute, Gaius."
Gaius? Luckily, the veils of silk hid me partially from view. Just to be on the safe side, I dove under the covers.
"Father," the boy continued. "Mother just called Grandfather Lucius through the mirror. She says she's not coming to the Manor, that she's staying at the Silverthorn castle for Christmas. What's going on? She said that you'd understand. Grandfather Lucius is quite upset about it. I heardthe boy grabbed the silk veils and pulled them back from the bed with a jerk. "What are you still doing in bed?"
There was a thick silence. "You have someone here," the boy finally said, his voice strained. "Don't you?" He looked to be only about twelve years old, but obviously he knew what was going on.
"Son, I can explain," Draco said.
"You…bastard!" Gaius bit out. "I can't believe you'd bring some slut here, in Mother's bed. No wonder Mother won't come to the Manor. She's hiding from you."
"Put away your wand," Draco said sternly, "Immediately. There's a perfectly good explan-"
"I won't let you dishonor her like this!" Gaius' hissed.
I couldn't stand it anymore. I sat up, and poked my head out of the covers. "Hi."
Gaius gazed at me with wide, green eyes. "Mama?" His wand, which had been pointed toward Draco, lowered slowly. He shifted uncertainly, and ran his fingers through his dark blonde hair. He was obviously attending Hogwarts, as his black cloak had the "Slytherin" insignia embroidered on the pocket. "How can you be here, and at Silverthorn castle at the same time?"
"It's a long story, Son," Draco told him. "Give us some privacy to get dressed, and I'll tell you all about it."
After Gaius left the room, I turned to Draco. "He looks just like my father," I told him, my eyes tearing up. After just having spoken to my father in the Mirror of Emit, I was still quite emotional about it.
"Don't worry, Sweetheart," Draco said, kissing me. "You'll see Gaius again, too." He rapidly got dressed and left the room.
With a sigh I took a long drink of the creamy coffee I had missed so much since I left New Orleans. There was fried ham, creamy grits and eggs. To my delight, Twinky and Pinky had learned to make beignets, the little French doughnuts they served at the Café Du Monde.
When I was fed and decently dressed, I finally saw Gaius again. He stared at me curiously. "Are you spending Christmas with us?"
"I don't really know," I admitted. I looked at Draco in confusion.
"Obviously the older version of you believes you will," he told me. He led Gaius and me to the Floo room, where all the gifts were waiting to be taken to Malfoy Manor.
"Malfoy Manor," Gaius said in a loud voice. He certainly was a confident young man. He tossed the silvery powder into the fireplace, and we disappeared into a swirl of emerald flames.
When we arrived at the Manor, house elves were already there to greet us. "Please don't tell my parents we're here," Draco told the house elf. "We want to surprise them."
I had forgotten how impressive Malfoy Manor could be. The placewas certainly decked out for Christmas. I had never seen Wizarding decorations, and the place glowed with golden wreaths, fairy lights, andthousands of floating candles. The white walls of the Manor glittered even more than I remembered. The air was heavy with a rich scent of spices and mulberry, as if the house elves must have been busy baking in the kitchens. Lively and delicate dulcimer music floated magically on the air.
Soon Draco and I stood in the doorway to a room, and the cozy scene was one that I had never imagined in my wildest dreams. My Uncle Lucius and his wife were surrounded by children, the children I had seen in the painting. They were snooping around underan enormous Christmas tree, and begging their grandparents to let them open their gifts prematurely.
Draco whispered to me, "Father spoils them all rotten, of course, especially Mirabel."
My uncle sat in an overstuffed leather chair. A tiny witch perched on his knee, her fluffy, silver-blonde hair pulled up into a bow. In the painting, she had been cute. In real life, she was adorable. For a moment, I thought a little hysterically, she looked like the little Who-girl in 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas.' Only my Uncle Lucius did not look like a Grinch. He smiled down on Mirabel quite fondly. He had aged quite gracefully. He still had the long silvery hair, the aristocratic nose, and the sneer that hovered dangerously around his sculptured lips.
"Daddy says we can't wear real fairies in our hair," an older girl was telling him with a pout. "Because of the Muggles."
"But you live in New Orleans, my Dear," my uncle Lucius said with a sniff. "If the Muggles should happen to spot anything magical, they would merely think that they were in a drunken stupor." At this, he shot a dirty look at his wife. "Aren't you starting on the Yule punch a little early in the day?"
Mrs. Malfoy ignored him. She took a sip from her goblet and addressed the children. Her words were belligerent and a bit slurred. "I cannot believe that your mother wishes to deprive you of the many pleasures of a Wizarding childhood by forcing you to live in a city full of filthy Muggles," she said. "At least while you stay with us, you can enjoy some of our Yule traditions." She made a motion with her hand, and a house elf, dressed in a festive tea-towel, open a large box. Hundreds of winged fairies flew out of it, their iridescent wings shimmering. They flew toward the Christmas tree, and lit up the branches.
"Oh, pretty!" Mirabel clapped her hands. "I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!"
A tiny fairy dressed in green glowed brightly, and lit on the child's nose, sprinkling sparks of fairy dust all over her upturned face.
"Now I can fly. You are a bad man, Captain Hook." She brandished an imaginary sword at my Uncle Lucius. "You'll never catch me." She then hopped up on the arm of the chair and jumped into the air, only to have my Uncle Lucius catch her before she landed with a splat on the floor.
"Merciful Merlin!" Mrs. Malfoy pressed her hand to her chest. "Wherever do you get those bizarre ideas? Ever since you moved away…"
"I miss living here with you, Papa Lucius," Mirabel said, tugging his hair and batting her eyelashes at him. "I don't like our house in America. It isn't all sparkly and white like your castle. And it doesn't have a beautiful garden, a Jacuzzi, a unicorn tapestry that talks… " She continued her litany of how her new house was inferior.
"Little traitor," Draco muttered next to me. Gaius glanced at me, and I could tell from the look on his face that he, too, had missed the manor.
"And I hate those nasty Muggles!" Mirabel finished with a dramatic grimace.
"Now can you see why we moved?" Draco asked me. He walked into the room and swept the tiny witch up in his arms. "You fickle little thing," he said, holding her above his head. "Since you hate Muggles so much, maybe we'd better get rid of your DVD player and all your Muggle movies."
At this, the children all looked toward Uncle Lucius, as if expecting some kind of argument to begin.
"No, Daddy!" The girl squealed. "Not my movies!"
"Where's mother?" One of the boys asked. "Why isn't she coming?"
"There you are. Have you talked to your wife?" Mrs. Malfoy asked Draco. "The absolute nerve of her, refusing to attend the holidays with her children. What kind of mother is she?"
"She is here, actually," Draco said tersely.
"Mama!" Mirabel obviously spotted me and wriggled to be let down. Draco deposited her into my arms. The younger children ran to me, chattering wildly, but the older ones were a little more hesitant. They studied my face, realizing that I was different somehow.
I, in turn, studied them. These were my children. I watched their faces in fascination, noting the blend of Draco and myself in their features.
I noticed that Draco did not hug his mother in welcome. Instead, he bent and whispered something into his father's ear.
Apredatory look of interest crossed my uncle's features.
"Children," he announced, "I have some business with your mother I must attend to. I'll be back shortly."
Thanks to everybody for reviewing and being so patient! Thanks to Moonjasmine and Sophierom
Arsinoe de Blassenville: Thanks so much for your review. Yes, I think that having the Malfoys as in-laws would be a bit daunting!
Linthilde: Wow- thanks for your enthusiastic review! I really appreciate it. I get pretty careless with grammar and punctuation here on FFNet, I guess I just have so much fun I lose my head! I am in the process of becoming my own grammar nazi. It helped me when I started posting this story on "Pureblood," where the moderators point out all my mistakes (and make me fix them!) before they let me post.
Escaped: I thought that would make you happy to see Ron die a tragic death. Ha! But you never know, Miriel might be able to change things. Thanks for your compliments about my writing. I've really been struggling with this chapter a lot. Hope you are doing okay, BTW.
Dragonfires: I've never been to Galatoires, but it sounds wonderful. Here in Arkansas their idea of seafood is catfish, and I haven't had any real seafood in quite a while. I'm thinking about going to New Orleans to get my doctorate at Tulane. Might be expensive to live there, though, but the food is great. Anyway, thanks for your nice reviews!
