The deep and strained ticking of an old grandfather clock drifted into my timeless void. Slowly I felt myself returning to the surface of the world. My eyelids flickered and finally obeyed. My vision was blurry but it was real, or at least I assumed it was. Suddenly all of my senses collided at once into a collage of pain. My head was ripping apart, my neck was still burning from the crest, my breathing was pained, some of my fingers felt broken and I couldn't really sense my legs yet. Slowly, my vision cleared as I gasped for air. My mouth tasted sour of blood and medicine.

I was in a black room. The walls were decorated by paintings of grim looking blond people, large silver candle holders, and thick black drapes over the windows. Furniture that appeared heavy and ancient covered partially in dust sheets lurked around the room, giving the appearance that no one had been truly inhabiting the space for some time. I was in a four poster bed with black sheets up to my chin. I peered down past my feet. There was some sunlight coming in through the windows but the drapes were fighting hard to conceal every crevice of it. Only where someone mistakenly had tied the curtains was there any forgiveness to the warmth of the outside world.

I couldn't force myself to sit up past my chin so I laid back and looked up at the canopy, fighting dizziness. I was notably cold as whoever had taken care of me only provided the black sheet. The thick comforter was bunched up at the end of my toes and I scowled against the freezing cold conditions inside of the building. Was I in some special ward of the castle? Snape's personal bedroom perhaps? The thought made me laugh out loud and then wince in agony against the crackle of my ribs.

"Errrrr," I heard a low grumbly gurgle from my right hand side. My eyes slid suspiciously to look at the source of the noise. An old house elf with a very misshapen and gruesome looking face was leering at me. His head was hardly higher the mattress and his beady eyes were surveying me like a laser.

"You mustn't move, Mistress Malfoy. Mistress Malfoy is hurt, oh yes, quite hurt. Foolish woman she is." He muttered in a dark and unfriendly tone. His bent and bandaged fingers were waving up and down over my body as if to extract some kind of knowledge about my physical health. I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster.

"You 'ave me mistaken with someone, uh, different. I am not a Malfoy. That ees a fact." I raised my finger to point it at him from under the covers, trying not to faint from the pain.

"Mistress Malfoy bears the mark of the master. She bears the mark and carries the seed. She is family now. She will shirk her French heritage and accept her place as a Malfoy, next to the master."

"I am not carrying any seed," I spat at him horrified, "I cast, er, eh, protectiveness spell."

The elf seemed intent to argue against me as he growled, "What a pity. To bear the mark for an empty outcome." I switched my approach.

"Am I at de Malfoy Residence?"

"Hmmm... yes, you are. You are with the master and the masters before him. You are here to heal in your home away from prying eyes. Kreacher will get the master." The word master was starting to sound odd from the amount of times he repeated it.

I reached out rapidly, wincing from the pain, "Please! Don't!" But with a whoosh he had dissaparated. Damn.

I laid there helpless as though I were a thousand ton human, panicking slightly that I needed to be standing and possibly even escape before the so called "master" arrived. My ribs disagreed heavily with my attempts to sit up. Finally after several excruciating minutes I managed to scream through the pain and sit up, sucking in shallow, rapid breaths. The paintings on the walls gave me annoyed looks, and I noticed the way that their faces scrunched up was extremely similar to Draco's features when he was unpleased.

I took in a sharp breath and squeezed my eyes shut while rotating one leg towards the bed's edge. I screamed in agony as the bones felt stiff and broken. I slowly bent my knee so my toes touched the floor. It was then that I realized my left arm was tied up against my chest. Great.

I started sliding the other leg over and after several moments of tears and gasps both of my feet were firmly planted over the edge. I sat there heaving breaths in and tried to focus on my escape through the pain. My vision was wavering from my head injury and the crest was attacking my neck with ferocity. One of the paintings of a beautiful, gaunt looking blond in a pale green dress snickered at my situation.

"Quite...quite humorous es it?" I didn't look at her while I addressed her. I was taking in the fact that someone had changed me into a short black nightdress and my heart lurched at the thought of who exactly had seen me naked. The paintings started arguing amongst themselves quietly about what to do.

Shall we retrieve Lucius?

No we shouldn't waste his time on this nonsense, let the boy handle his own messes.

Clearly she's a fool.

I ignored their rude remarks.

Okay. This was it. I had to stand. I had to get to my parents. I took another deep breath in and tried to ignore the tears running down my face as I pushed against my feet. I groaned loudly as my legs allowed me to stand, wobbling in place. I placed my hand out and walked towards the wall nearest me, sinking along it. There was a fire place across the room, possibly with floo powder that I could use to travel out of there.

I had taken a few steps when the door opened rapidly and Draco entered wearing all black comfort clothing. His eyes initially went to the bed and then with confusion he spotted me blending into the wall with my black nightdress, tears running down my face, and long hair hanging over half of it. I probably resembled a hag with my odd stature and pained expression.

"Fuck! What do you think you're doing?" He snarled running up to me and steadying me in his arms, "You have been in a coma for weeks you can't walk!"

I turned and let my tears completely unravel into his sweater. I was crying now at full force into his chest as he held me up on my weak legs. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had to leave, I had to tell my parents that I was alright and safe, "I need...I 'ave to go..." I whimpered against him, vaguely pointing in the direction that I thought the fireplace to be.

"Come here," He said sternly, but carefully guided me back to the bed. When I was sitting he just stared at me with a blank expression, "Do you remember why you're here?" He asked. One of his arms was drifted around me with no real grasp, just lying behind my back.

I looked down at my hands. My knees looked tiny, I looked...starved. Not anorexic per se, but I had lost a lot of tone. I was just skinny now, nothing more. Many of my fingers ached that were wrapped up with stiffening bandages.

Something terrible had happened during Quidditch. I had been trying to save Harry and then it went black. I remembered hearing voices in the castle infirmary and then there was nothing until now.

"Harry..." I choked out in a quiet voice.

"Ugh," Draco looked instantly irritated. His face was twisted in a scowl and he removed his arm from my vicinity. It was quiet again for a long while, and I just stared at the hood on his sweater as he leaned forward on his knees, clearly exhausted. Finally he spoke, "You would do well not to speak that name under this roof. Is that understood?" His face was in his hands and his voice came out muffled.

"I was trying to save 'im. 'e was falling... And den I was..." My mind wandered around the memory like it was a confusing ride attraction at a fair.

"I saved him! Because you were putting yourself in danger," Draco turned to look at me, absolutely livid, "And it doesn't even matter because the bludger knocked you off anyways. You didn't even see that you had aligned yourself with it while you were wasting your time waiting to catch him. Idiot!"

He stood up and started pacing with his hands in his pockets, "This is exactly why I don't want girls on my team." He shook his head. I stared at him for a while, the grandfather clock clicked in the background as if watching.

"I am not a Malfoy. Take me to my parents." I blurted out of context. His lip curled up in amusement as he rubbed his chin and took in my features.

"You sure look like one in that black dress." He shrugged, enjoying the irritation that swept across my eyes.

I smashed my fist on the covers and instantly regretted it. I cried in response as several bandaged fingers sent shooting pain up my arm.

"You should really stop hurting yourself so you can go home sooner, then," He drawled looking at his fingers and leaning on the wall, "You are required to stay here until you are better. It is not a discussion. My family will not accept you being subjected to less than worthy care."

"Why did you 'ave sex wit' me if you knew dis would 'appen? You 'ave made me your prisoner!" I seethed at him with hatred and betrayal, "Get dis damned mark off of me!" Several of the paintings cried out in outrage at my vulgar wording. Malfoy looked embarrassed and avoided making eye contact with them. He instead stared down at the rug with a frown on his face.

He sighed after a long pause. "All I can say is that I didn't foresee this. You just kept coming at me, what did you expect?" He swallowed and grinned with a sad look on his face, "My parents wanted Astoria. They had it set up against my wishes. In a way you saved me. Thankfully you're as pure as purebloods can get. It was your freedom for mine. We can make it easier in time, I promise." His voice was soft and filled with guilt and he kept swirling a circle in the gray carpet with his socked toe. His long lashes masked his eyes as he redid the pattern over and over. His hands were in his sweatpants as if retracting into his clothing would save him from my anger.

I wasn't phased by the melancholy features on his face, I was shaking with resentment. His selfishness was unheard of. I would decapitate him in that moment if I could capably walk on my own.

My blood pressure soaring, I started seeing bright little sparks swimming in front of my eyes, more tears were streaming down and I was astounded I had anymore left, "I 'ate you," I gasped quietly, brushing them away with my bandaged fingers, "Let me out of dis prison."

In a shuffle he was on his knee in front of me, "It's not a prison. You have to lie down, Madeleine. You hit your head really hard. Do you want me to call the doctor?" I could hardly make out his face through my blubbering.

"No!" I yelled. I heard one of the paintings whisper how unlady like! My head ached and my vision was impossibly blurry between my crying and my injuries.

"Just...lie down, I promise, my family only wants the best for you. They've accepted you with grace. Your parents know you're here," He reached out to put his hand on my knee but I shoved it off, "Pleaseeeee for the love of Merlin stop panicking!" He snarled at me, losing his patience.

Then he was standing and marching towards the door, "Fine! Be impossible. Tell Kreacher if you need anything, just get better for both of our sakes!" He slammed the door and I jumped as I watched him go. I found comfort in coiling up on my side as much as I could and cried myself to sleep in my freezing room. Kreacher eventually started a fire in the hearth for me and I finally felt relaxed enough to dream peacefully.

A soft, aristocratic woman's voice was drifting around in my dreams. At first it had no footing, no meaning and then I was awake behind my closed eyelids. Someone was moving in the air above my body and there was a man's voice, calm, confident, checking me over.

I froze in terror that I had awoken again in the Malfoy Manor, this time catching the perpetrators in the act.

"She is of very high value to our family. No expenses are to be spared in providing her with the highest quality and fastest of recovery. Please forward us with a list of ingredients you need and they will be delivered to the medical office downstairs," Her voice was soothing and confident, directorial even. Malfoy's mother, if I didn't know any better.

"She is recovering quite well, actually. Bit of a stickler in the beginning with all those ribs and the clavicle but she's made immense progress. Her arm is basically healed. She has elite genetics," The male voice quipped in return. I felt the sheets being replaced over my body again. Suddenly I was really grateful for the annoying black dress that I had been mysteriously given.

"Oh yes, she does. An excellent pairing for Draco," Narcissa was bragging now, "We've been in contact with the family. Much better than a Greengrass, actually. An ancient bloodline from southern France, part Veela - could you tell? Draco chose rather wisely."

"Extraordinary, Narcissa. Congratulations." The doctor said with a pleased tone, "Well, I know Draco had mentioned she was awake earlier this week which is very good news. I'll be back to see her in a few days or at your earliest request." I heard a case snap shut and the shuffling of shoes.

Once they had left the room I ripped the covers off of me, wincing at the pain in my bones. I sat up with less difficulty this time, suspicious that I had been asleep for more than several nights. Struggling to my feet, I worked my way across to the fireplace but was left dismayed by the lack of floo powder there, then I went to windows. I pulled a curtain back that felt like it weighed more than 5 of me combined and stared out at the snow piled thick against the window. Ugh, right, it was winter. I shivered in my dress remembering how awfully cold the house was. Even as a fellow Slytherin, I could never justify this frigid temperature.

Luckily I easily located the walk-in closet. I opened a creaky large door and instantly sneezed at the sheer stench of must. The room looked like it had been forgotten completely for a century. There was rows on rows of ancient looking gowns and the like. I tip toed into the room and pulled down the least messy looking robe I could locate. It was absurdly long and dark as obsidian.

I walked around my room with it on for several laps getting a feel for it. I barked in laughter when I saw my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror. I looked like a corpse bride from the 16th century, with the longest robe on the planet trailing behind me and an unmatched, short nightgown. The hierarchy of clothing had me laughing for several minutes hysterically at myself while the paintings around the room huffed in confusion and disapproval. I grabbed my wand from the nightstand and quickly cast tidying spells on my hair and face, then I walked to the door in my new garb and pulled back on the heavy, black iron door.

The hallway looked like it stretched forever with a black central rug. I pranced out lightly in my ridiculous costume, feeling the strength returning to my bones rapidly. Curiosity pricked me as I waltzed around the manor staring at all the paintings and inside of the endless rooms. Drawing rooms, bedrooms, rooms with just couches and fireplaces. All adorned in ancient, dark décor, most of them seemingly abandoned. Many of the hallway paintings clearly were confused by my presence and started shouting out questions in outrage.

I ignored them, reaching an absolutely monstrous central set of staircases that seemed to span several floors above and below. I shook with horror when my eyes landed on the massive painting of a family tree painted onto the wall across from the main railing. I traced it to the very bottom right where it showed two moving pictures of people named Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy and below them a branch that had a bored looking picture of Draco, and beside him...Oh mon dieu! It could not be!

But it was. True as day, a moving picture of myself next to him with a slightly worried expression on her face. Her blond hair was straightened uncharacteristically in an oddly tidy manner. My name below read Madeleine Malfoy. I clutched at my own neck in shock, the crest burning into me as if to the verify the awful reality. If we had already been married than I had been unconscious for the entire thing.

Did they think because we had copulated that equated to marriage?

The severity of the situation was coming full circle for me. I started hyperventilating, turning to wrap my hands around the cold banister behind me. This wasn't happening.

"She looks upset - I wonder why that would be?" A dark voice questioned from behind me. Draco stood there in a black suit not feet away from me, looking up at Madeleine Malfoy's distraught expression. His eyes drifted to me and he smirked with humor at the gigantic black robe I had swirling off of my small frame, "You look like a freak. Where the heck did you find that atrocity?" It was so long it was trailing in front of his dress shoes from the direction I had come. He frowned down at it, clearly trying to mask an internal laugh.

"I was cold," I defended, straightening myself to cover up my panic attack.

"Well. No matter...I'll let mother know to prepare for a bonfire with whatever is hanging around in that room. It belonged to my grandmother, you know." He pointed up at the map and I followed his finger up the tree line to a lady who had an absolutely demonic expression on her face. "You need to change before dinner, since you are awake and capable now. Can't have you trailing around the manner looking like a rotting Basilisk. Do you want me to bring you something or should my mother dress you?" His sideways grin was flirty and cruel at the same time.

I sighed heavily, "If I am so well, can not I leave yet?"

"No. You're close, though. Christmas is almost over, and then we can go back to that joke of a school. I have to say," he turned to face me a mere foot away now, leaning coyly on the banister, "I have never spent this entire holiday at home. But thanks to you, here I am." He sipped at a crystal glass of dark liquid I hadn't noticed he was holding before.

Christmas was almost OVER? My heart fluttered in shock. I had been in a coma for weeks, they'd said. And however much more time had passed since I was last awake.

"What date is it?" I asked weakly. I could smell his cologne and it was stirring up old memories and creating confusion in my head.

He cocked his head to the side and took another sip, his eyes glittering as he looked me over. "It's Christmas Eve, princess." He had a knowing, smug expression on his face as he watched me falter in shock.

"So, what's it going to be?" His silky voice interrupted my thoughts of devastation, "Want some time alone with mummy dearest, or do you want me to take you to her wardrobe just me and you? You're choice. My personal advice would be to change now before they are back and see you like...this."

I eyed his charming speech with narrowed eyes, "You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Almost," he sighed, looking away.

"Fine. I'll go wit' you." I curtly replied. He turned and started walking and I followed suit, dragging my spiky odd tail behind me. He walked for minutes, turning corners and taking flights of cold stair cases until it seemed like we were on the top floor of the manor. The landscape outside of the windows emphasized the sheer height of the towering house; trees directly below looked like dots. I mentally noted we were at least six or seven floors high.

Everything had increasingly grown more decorated, more homely, less dusty. I watched him walk in his suit and tie. His hair was slicked back perfectly and he was dressed like he was attending a wedding - a stark contrast from his typical presentation at Hogwarts.

We reached two large double doors at the end of the upper hallway - carved monolithic stone sheets with the same Malfoy crest across them that was waving on the back of my neck. He pulled them open with a hard tug and walked through, grabbing my hand tightly so I wouldn't stray from the direct pathway to the closet. I whined at his crushing of my bruised fingers and he lessened his grip.

"Here," he gestured to a doorway that was dark green. I pushed it inwards and stood astounded at the volume of spotless clothing, most in the same categories of black, green and silver. Some other colors were sprinkled in shyly. The materials were not cheap, and I couldn't help spotting a lot of dragons hide. In the center was a tiled table covered in dazzling jewelry stands accompanied by a green leather chaise. He was watching my expression with a grin, "Pick whatever you want, she already approved it. Just make sure it's appropriate."

I slowly waltzed in only to feel a sharp tug backwards. I looked back to see he was leaning in the doorway and his shoe had stomped down hard on the long black robe, frowning he said, "Take this off. NOW." His voice was commanding and his blue eyes suggested he meant business.

I shrugged my arms out of the huge sleeves and he gathered up the seemingly endless fabric with a disgusted noise. I stood shivering in my small black dress with only thin straps holding it up, and he stole a glance at my hardened chest. I moved around the clothing, breathing in the scent of valuable fabrics. My eyes drifted past the black and silver sections, desperately looking for something that matched my own style. It wasn't that Narcissa's clothing was unattractive in the least, it was only that it didn't make sense on me.

"Choose black," He said as we moved into the room. I had a curious thought as to where the raggedy old robe had just disappeared to. Poor robe.

"Non," I defiantly shook my head as I made eye contact with him, grazing my hand along the endless clothing. I shot him a sassy grin.

His eyes drifted down to my backside which was barely covered by the absurdly short dress, and down my legs, and he inhaled sharply looking at the ceiling, exhaling just as heavily. I reached out and plucked out a dark blue dress with a laced high neck, long lacy sleeves and a very long length. It probably would be a tad too long, but it was the right color palette.

He was close behind me, having crept up silently somehow. His hand was on the hook I had extracted and he looked into my eyes over my shoulder, repeating, "Wear. Black. Madeleine," in a fierce tone.

I turned around and held the dress up against myself, looking down and looking back up into his eyes with a fake pouty lip, "You don' think I'd look dashing, darling?" The last word came out with such mockery sewn into it he surely knew I was being facetious.

His eyes remained hooded and serious, as he looked down at me. His arm was leaning on the shelf above me, trapping me into the corner. He looked irritated and impatient with me, and for a moment I almost felt nervous by his composure. This must've been how Astoria felt with him, knowing full well she was annoying to him, I thought.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and eventually he leaned in close so our noses were almost touching, not breaking his malicious gaze, "Fine, darling."