I would like to first apologize for the fact that my comments are not separated from the chapters. I keep putting in 's and things to separate them, but somehow they disappear. So, sorry. I hope you all enjoy this chapter—it's 4 pages of great fun. I hope it is long enough to satisfy you all for now. Not much else to really say, but thanks for the reviews.
(-) MUST SEPARATE (-) MUST SEPARATE (-)
Chapter 18: Life in Between
The next week and a half went torturously slow in the Malfoy Manor. Phantom Ginny's slipped in and out of his dreams every night and Draco spent as much time as he possibly could locked away in his room, living life in between. The idea of company made him nauseous. And despite his bad mood and unusual silence, it did not stop Narcissa from checking up on him every few hours.
She'd pop in every so often to announce that she was off to have tea with a friend, that she was back from having tea with a friend, that she was just going to be in the library to do some reading, or that she'd just be across the hall in her bedroom should he need anything. Narcissa would linger at the doorway each time, waiting for Draco to do more than nod. But he was silent, and after a minute Draco would hear the soft click of the door that told him he was alone again.
As much as Draco despised Narcissa's incessant visits, he would gladly tolerate them if it meant he did not have to return to Hogwarts. Ginny Weasley's brutal murder was splattered across every wizarding paper in Britain for all he knew (Draco couldn't bring himself to check). How could he go back as if it he hadn't been the one? How could he face his classmates with such guilt? How would he be able to keep suspicion away from him? Weasley had always had it in for Draco in the first place. Surely he'd convict Draco instantly.
And what would he say? How could he possibly lie convincingly when the picture of Ginny's face in frozen terror haunted him, reminding him of what he did?
The scenario of the inevitable confrontation with Weasley played over and over in Draco's mind as he dressed silently. Narcissa's familiar faint knock woke Draco out of his reverie as he was slipping a t-shirt on over his head.
"Come," he called, wondering what new reason Narcissa could have thought of in the last 20 minutes to interrupt him again.
Narcissa swept inside, smiling gaily in deep purple robes with fur trim. "Draco, I wanted you to know that I..." she began, closing the door behind her. "Oh darling, you're not planning on wearing THAT to the Parkinson's, are you? Certainly you have something more suitable for tea!"
Immediately she crossed over to Draco's armoire and began pulling out various ties and shirt, slacks and vests, laying them out on Draco's four-poster.
"The Parkinson's?" Draco questioned, sincerely hoping his mother was joking.
"Well yes dear, tea at the Parkinson's. It's been arranged for weeks," she added, as if that settled the matter. "Pansy managed to get permission to come home for the weekend to visit. You remember Pansy, darling. I mentioned to Adoria you'd be home as well and we knew you kids would want to get together," she trilled, holding a set of ties in her hand and matching them to the various colored shirts strewn across the bed.
"Mother, I don't want to go for tea," Draco said tonelessly, a wave of nausea already beginning to pass through him.
"Nonsense Draco," his mother said, brushing aside his comment with a wave of her hand. "Here, wear these," she said, holding out a white collared shirt, green sweater and dark gray pair of slacks. "You look just like your father in your Slytherin green," she said, obviously pleased with the idea of a miniature Lucius.
Draco cringed at the thought. Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, he finally took the clothes from her, resigned to the fact that he'd be spending the rest of his afternoon sipping tea and listening to Mrs. Parkinson and his mother inadvertently planning his and Pansy's wedding.
Narcissa positively beamed at him, as if Draco had just informed her that he and Pansy were having triplets. "We'll leave in 15 minutes," she called as she disappeared out of the room.
After waiting for the familiar click, Draco began to redress.
(-) LATER (-)
The Parkinson Manor lay in the middle of flat and open countryside, oddly unprotected by concealing charms. The Parkinsons liked people to gawk at the manor's grandness—muggle or wizard, it didn't matter.
Though it was not as vast as the Malfoy's, the Parkinson manor was breathtaking nonetheless and definitely worth notice—acres upon acres of formal gardens surrounding, large bay windows covering the front, gargoyles perched along the two symmetrical Gothic towers, and an intricate stone fountain in the courtyard that ran only when the family was home.
One could not truly appreciate the Parkinson Manor, however, until they had stepped inside—a luxury few outside of the immediate family enjoyed. The Manor had an elegant ballroom, four different sets of staircases, several massive crystal chandeliers in every room, an entry way adorned in maroon velvet curtains and gold gilded furniture, seventeen bedrooms all with their own adjoined bathrooms, thirty-nine rooms all together (only 7 less than the Malfoy Manor), and twenty stone and marble fireplaces.
It was the large white marble fireplace in the entryway that Draco stepped out of (without having to bend down) later that afternoon when he was to have tea with Pansy and her mother.
"Good afternoon Master Malfoy," a scrawny house-elf squeaked up at him with large terrified eyes, "and Mistress Malfoy," he added quickly when Narcissa stepped out of the fireplace as well. "I will takes you to the mistress nows, sir and madame."
The elf bowed until his crooked nose touched the floor and then quickly turned, propelling his body forward on stubby legs. Draco began to follow through the various rooms and tried not to snap when his mother started straightening his collar and dusting off his cloak as they walked.
"Draco, will you hold on for two seconds altogether?" Narcissa asked, agitation lacing her voice. Draco stopped and turned towards her, rolling his eyes and looking away as Narcissa began fiddling with his hair. "There now," she cooed, looking pleased once again.
Draco didn't know why he let his mother do this to him. After all, he wasn't interested in Pansy Parkinson in the least. But indulging his mother meant he would be spared the wrath of his father, in this regard at least. Draco subconsciously rubbed the back of his head where there was still the trace of a bump from Lucius' cane. Tea would be worth it, he thought.
Narcissa gave him the customary nod and Draco turned again, entering the sitting room he knew so well.
"Draco dear," a larger and older version of Pansy called, rising from her straight backed chair. "My how you've grown! It must be, what? Eight months since I've seen you? And so tall and handsome you've become!" she trilled, coming around the table to peck Draco on the cheek as a mother would.
"And you remember Pansy, darling," Narcissa chimed in after she and Adoria exchanged looks during Draco's silence.
Without a glance at Pansy, Draco sat down disregarding the fact that he hadn't been invited to yet—in his mind they were past formalities. "Yes mother, she IS in my house at school," he said, almost having to clap a hand over his mouth to keep his annoyance at bay.
"Oh yes, of course darling," Narcissa said a bit flustered, and she too sat down quickly.
There was an awkward silence as Adoria poured the tea and Narcissa, Draco assumed, re-calculated her strategy.
"Oh Narcissa, I didn't tell you, I bought a new vase the other day. You MUST see it before you leave. You'll never believe where I picked it up. It was this quaint little shop just outside of..." Adoria rambled on as she passed around a plate of biscuits, gushing about her newest find that would undoubtedly sit on the shelf amongst all the other useless junk to be dusted every other day.
Draco shifted in his chair decidedly tuning them out for the sake of his nerves and also to spite his mother for making him come. Cursing silently, Draco shifted again. Why did the Parkinsons buy the most uncomfortable chairs in the world, he was practically sitting on a board. Yes they were the proper tea chairs that any wealthy family would have in their sitting room, but was that so damned important?
All of the chairs in the Malfoy Manor, Draco decided, would be burned if they were not covered in at least a foot of padding and curved in the back for proper support when he became Master of the house. No more unnecessary discomfort, or else what good was it being wealthy?
"Did you know that, Draco?" Adoria's voice interrupted.
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Parkinson?" Draco asked, finding he had been slouching considerably while in thought and taking the time to correct his posture.
"I asked if you knew that my Pansy was proficient on the piano?" she said a bit more loudly, as if Draco had suddenly lost his hearing and a raised voice would remedy his new-found handicap.
"I did not know that ma'am," he replied, looking over at Pansy for the first time since he had arrived and finding her calmly looking back at him.
"Ah yes, well, it's just one of her many talents," Adoria replied smugly, stirring her tea noiselessly clockwise.
Draco found himself smirking slightly. If you only knew, he said to himself as he recalled a time during their fifth year when Pansy had hauled him off to a particularly cramped and dark broom closet. Pansy seemed to be thinking along the same lines and they exchanged knowing glances.
(-) MUST SEPARATE (-)
Now it's time for replies to reviews. I'd first like to say thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'd also like to emphasize the importance of reviewing. Even if you only write two words, it's extremely helpful. I know if people are reading this ff by the reviews, and if no one reviews I think no one is reading; therefore, I don't post. Reviews also help me know what I can work on. I plan on doing some major revision once I'm done with this ff, so I mark places that need some work or didn't get a very good response. So it's very simple: review!
Kaiyu Onibaba: Well, there can't be much Ginny/Draco interaction if she's dead, now can there? ;)
Cinder2004: Is your name Cindy, by chance? Mine is, and my family all calls me cinder. Lol Anyhow, sorry to make you cry!
Quidditch3: Do I EVER write happy endings? Lol. I'm not sure how many chapter there will be to tell you the truth. I know what is going to happen, but I'm still working on the layout. I hope this chapter was long enough for you.
Anise aka Anissa: Yay! You came! Excellent review, by the way. I'm so happy you like my ff so much, it makes me feel all warm and good inside. Lol. Hooray for keeping Draco in character, eh? As far as making his world bigger, I really feel that our dear friend Jo just doesn't write enough on my favorite little blonde-boy, no offense to her of course. He really is a complex character, in my opinion. In fact, it's getting so deeply engraved in my mind that this is how Draco is that I have a hard time reading the books now. I'm like, "No, silly Jo, Draco wouldn't do that..." lol. I think I'm getting a bit carried away, what do you think?
Lady Jade: Welcome to the story! Guess you'll just have to wait and see what happens.
Panstipie: haha, well, people have told me that I have guts. Most people make Draco very OOC, and write him as an angel. But really, let's be honest, he may have a soft SPOT... but he's bad, he grew up bad, his family is bad... he's not about to change.
Calla-ForEvEa: I had a lovely time in Scotland, thanks for asking. I miss it very much and can't wait to graduate uni so I can move on to bigger and better things. Lol.