Chapter Six: Divided by Circumstance

They were eye to eye, nose to nose, even when an entire expanse of table stretched between the two men. Neither dared to move or breathe until they had reached a silent truce, at which time both sat back in their chairs simultaneously. But the restless hands and stiff backs spoke a story beyond either friendship or hatred. It was pride that drove them, and it would be pride that settled it.

Finally, André Roucieux nodded.

"Lucius, let us speak as members of the Kinship. As men," he added quietly, "not feuding enemies."

"As you wish, André."

He recognized that mocking, wary undercurrent in the man's voice but continued, "Then answer me—who is she?"

"She is Elaine," Lucius replied noncommittally. It was such a simple answer, yet it answered nothing.

"Elaine…"

"Elaine Malfoy Kwan, the daughter of Anthony and Sophia Kwan."

André paused to reflect. If Elaine were the daughter of the Kwans, whom he had briefly met years earlier, she would be with family. In fact, he questioned in his mind, had they even ever had a child? He would not be fooled this time, not by that perfect golden brother of his wife with a cold stone heart. Although first son in the Roucieux family was by no means a bad position, the Malfoy, the strong, cunning aristocratic Malfoy, was of another class. Yet nor did he wish for the fall of the old rulers; if it did occur, a period of chaos would then occur, severely weakening the Apexi, which was responsible for many of the affairs that concerned wizarding folk.

No, it was better to leave Lucius be, for now.

"Really, my cousin," he said, using the expression to refer to all relations not bound by blood, "why did you inconvenience yourself?"

"The will."

"But wills can be changed." André rubbed his chin and thought back to that of his own father. The old bloke had seemed to forget to amend it over the years…but he had been quite pleased to oblige.

Lucius concealed a note of irritation at his bluntness. "So, if you will, tell me why I would have troubled myself further with that option?"

Then a pause, before the next sentence.

"André, I'm afraid you may be losing your touch."

"So you have relations with Elaine?" It was a statement, not a question, that left his voice steadily rising with suspicions just lying beneath the surface. True enough, Lucius was cunning, but that idiot wife of his seemed to influence men with her whining, nagging presence, and always for the worse. Oh yes, he saw through her beautiful face, cold as it was, to the icy core. She would leave him at a second's notice if she suspected, which meant that she knew nothing. He chose to ignore any subtle references to his break from ritual; how did the Malfoy have such accursed patience to deal with it?

"Perhaps, perhaps not." Lucius narrowed his eyes to dark slits. "First of all, before you ask such questions, ask yourself if she even so much looks the part." He envisioned slender, quiet, naïve Elaine with her angular, winged cheekbones so uncommon to the Asians. Then he pictured her five, ten years later, dark eyes hiding a blazing inferno. "She will become a credit, however—the heiress, the stunning, the brilliant. And no doubt, with a bit more discipline in her upbringing, she will succeed. But is that all?"

André willed himself to relax at the sight of those shaded glares of contained energy. He had witnessed the power of the Malfoy, or at least believed that he had. But every time he saw his brother-in-law yet another facet of his inner self was revealed. He had the façade, the steely nerve, and the cool, calm rationale for everything. All that was missing was true passion, and he had never witnessed a moment when Lucius lost control.

Offering a casual smile, he replied, "No, not at all. However, business does await us…and what do you think of the recent stock trends? Will they affect our marketing to market?"

So their talk shifted gratefully from personal matters to a subject of mutual interest, as well as for the same reasons. They spoke of their joint corporation, and its ups and downs, and how hindsight could be transformed into working knowledge that would propel earnings up, up, higher than ever before in a single quarter. How, despite that the Malfoy lands were separated from the wizarding world, it was so close in twisting, binding its affairs. How the majority of people never did realize that their lives were dictated by men of power.

Elaine and Draco had retreated to their bedrooms at the arrival of this family friend, where Elaine now sat with a pensive look upon her face and bounced her feet in tiny circles. What else was there to do in this beautiful, open mansion? A Saturday, nonetheless, she thought with a longing smile, the sort of Saturday that she would have spent floating down a river on a flat-bottomed houseboat…a Saturday of ice cream and piggyback rides, not horses and discussions about the state of the rich Malfoys.

The stupid rich Malfoys.

She walked over to the clean, beautiful desk, same as the rest of the house, found a sheet of parchment and quills, and poised her hand above the paper, ready to let ink flow from the sharp nib of the quill. Touching its point to the creamy parchment, Elaine began to work on a drawing of Raven the horse, liberally scrawling the hairs of the mane and tail, leaving light for the eyes with a careful precision. Finally she surveyed her masterpiece and frowned.

The head was too small, the wings too bold, and a myriad of other faults simply ruined the whole picture. Elaine scowled at the baleful eyes of her horse before seizing it and crumpling it into a ball. Somehow there was a kind of angry delight in destruction, though she knew perfectly well that it was junk. Pure junk.

Then the door creaked open, and she instantly jumped out of her seat and stared into a pair of light blue eyes. Narcissa Malfoy, the wife of Lucius and her new "aunt" had decided to pay her a visit, and her features sparkled craftily. Still, thought Elaine, she was a beautiful woman as well—for that matter, everything here was beautiful like her own house had never been.

"Hello, Aunt," she finally smiled after a few moments.

"Oh, don't let me bother you," Narcissa tilted her chin up slightly. "I've just come to make sure that you've been adjusting, after all." She crossed the space to the writing desk and wrinkled her nose at the ball of parchment before picking it up and smoothing out the creases. "Now, this will never do," an annoyed, scornful expression flitted over her perfect full mouth, "ruining things when you're angry. Think of all the valuables that could be destroyed."

"Yes, Aunt Narcissa," replied Elaine softly.

"You do know, however," Narcissa whispered tauntingly, "that Uncle Lucius and myself can get you anything…anything at all that you want? Drawing pencils, perhaps? Or a new dress?" She waved a hand and laughed, resuming her queen-like air within a heartbeat. "As a member of the family, darling, find yourself entitled to it."

With smooth, quick steps, she stepped from corner to corner, resting her disdainful eyes on every inch of the room that she had helped to decorate. When it became apparent to Elaine that she found nothing but fault, she opened her mouth to speak. Suddenly the blond woman turned and left, almost as if repulsed by her mere words that were sure to come. Well, whatever the reason, it was better than having her around.

But boredom eventually set in, and Elaine paced the room until she realized that Draco would probably have an idea or two. He always seemed to have ideas, after all, and he was used to life in this strange mansion, no, castle. She trotted down the hallway, curiously peering into the open doorways, but did not open any that were closed. The room with the skull had reinforced that lesson.

Just as she was ready to give up, Draco Malfoy stuck his head out of the door and glared at her calmly, at which point she turned and glared right back. "Well, there's nothing to do," Elaine finally stated with a matter-of-fact tone, folding her arms across her chest.

"Then find something to do," replied Draco, turning his attention back inside his bedroom.

She heaved a sigh and shook her head. "I said there's nothing to do!"

"Well, get used to it," he shrugged, "since nothing's going to change now or tomorrow."

Elaine stepped backward involuntarily and bit her lip. She refused to consider, even for a second, that Draco was unwilling to entertain her. People wanted to help other people…especially if they were young, quiet, and "adorable". Like me, she thought angrily.

"What have you been doing?" she asked, changing tack abruptly. Something about that slightly upturned mouth told her that he did not act with the same warmth and kindness that she was accustomed to, but surely he did react to something.

Draco scowled with ineffectively concealed impatience. "Come in, then," he rolled his eyes, "and stop bothering everyone."

"How did you know that Aunt came in?"

He turned and forced her to meet his already steely gaze. "I am the Malfoy heir," he said with annoying superiority, "and nothing happens here with those who are not Malfoy that I do not know about." Draco wandered over to his desk and spread his hand over the opened books. "This, my cousin, is what I have been doing."

Mouth gaping unabashedly, Elaine followed his fingers silently and wondered how someone her own age could be accomplishing so much. Politics and Academy, in the original Greek, lay there, and neat, elegant script filled half a sheet of parchment. She assumed it was Draco's own handwriting but continued to imagine how deadly strict Uncle must have been.

As if reading her mind, Draco said lightly, "Father wants me to be well versed in all the aspects of ruling the Kin, and you ought to get a head start on some of these readings. How many languages are you fluent in, by the way?"

"English, some Latin, some French, and Chinese, of course. But I haven't ever read anything like that yet."

He walked over to the bookshelf by his bed and pulled out a leather-bound book, carelessly allowing light from the window to gleam off the gilded letters. Elaine accepted it cautiously and burst out, "Aren't I going to damage this?"

Draco stifled a grin. "Magically reinforced, like everything else. Besides, the good version's in Father's personal library, and I don't think you'll be allowed in there soon. Still…better get started on that—it's A Brief History of Magic, and you'll need to know it cover to cover soon if you want any recognition from anyone. I don't know how things were done with your family," he smirked, "but the Kin does them differently."

Finding herself ushered toward the door, Elaine returned to her own room and plopped into the chair. Soon she gave up on the book, mostly because it was excruciatingly difficult, but also due to the cool confidence of the laughing, sneering Draco Malfoy, whose face continually appeared in her mind. If ever she had a chance—no, she did have the opportunity to learn from them, to watch them, and to fire it all right back at their rich faces.

Twice a tall, graceful blond figure appeared near the top of the spiraling staircase, and twice Lucius lifted his gaze for the briefest of moments to send her sweeping out of sight. The woman…the woman had no place in his private discussions; she was cold, yes, but cold and stupid as well, and always hungry for more. More power, more money to spend, she would bankrupt the family treasury and leave the lands barren.

If the Malfoy ever sank so low, that is.

At last their conversation drew to a close, and André rose from his seat and was escorted outside by Lucius Malfoy. Before he exited, he met Lucius's implacable gaze again and twisted the corner of his mouth up into a gentle half smile. Their exchange of parting words was meaningless, but he had more to add.

"Cousin, I don't believe I shall be returning soon. Hard times will soon be upon us all," he spoke quietly, with the mannerisms instilled by his father and the Kin. "But as Draco's godfather, I have a parting gift for him, to be opened on his sixteenth birthday." Drawing a small velvet bag from his cloak, he passed it to Lucius, who immediately pocketed it.

"Of course." Lucius inclined his head gracefully. "Until next meeting, André."

"May the Lady Callide be with you."

He cast a final glance over the great stone castle before walking through the Arch and disappearing altogether.