Monday came in a flurry; I had spent the rest of Sunday wasting time in the showers and in my bed, dreading the hug and kiss I had given to Draco and fearing the Slytherin boys. I left only to try and send another owl to my parents, this one more grounded, hoping they would respond.
The guilt was unbelievable as I rendered all of the possible consequences of what I had done. Would he think I was weak now? Would Malfoy think I was now a willing prisoner, suffering from some messed up version of Stockholm Syndrome?
I'd eventually given in and told Hilda the entire story, starting with the bizarre ball summoning, then the fights at the Quidditch pitch and ending with the kiss. She had groaned in repulsion and scorned me greatly for my stupidity, but in the end showed some form of wary sympathy. I was mildly concerned that she was eventually going to conclude that I was an insane person.
Draco had not made it awkward for me, just stood there and took the physical affection like one of the Queen's soldiers. When I had pulled away his eyes were shut tightly, and he'd said nothing else to me the rest of the day. We'd walked back up the path silently, him leaving me at the Slytherin common room entrance and then vanishing to explain himself to the school authorities.
I was shocked when I'd reached the bottom of the stairs and not found him waiting for me. It was the first day in weeks that I'd been able to walk to class on my own, but he was missing from Potions that morning as well. He was also missing from meal times and all of the other classes that we shared together, for several days. I eventually heard from Pansy and Blaise that he'd been sent home for the week on detention in response to the Quidditch incident.
My mind and body slowly began to ease itself with the freedom, the only thing still weighing me down being the malignant glares from some of the older Slytherin boys who were closely connected to Warrington and Montague, including Crabbe and Goyle. Zabini simply maintained a curious squint at my every move.
On Thursday I was startled by Hilda running into the Great Hall at lunch. She was gripping a piece of parchment high above her head and slid into the space next to me with such fervor that she knocked a younger year girl at least a foot out down the way.
"I have news!" She trilled without any discretion.
"Oh I had not guessed so," I grinned at her, obviously referring to her dramatic entrance.
"Guess what? I'm coming to check out your future mansion," she elbowed me hard in the ribs, causing me to drop my fork, "I can't believe it never occurred to us before, but the Sacred Ball? Duh, it's like, every Sacred family in Britain. My parents sent me a letter saying to get ready for tomorrow." She squealed and hugged me.
Pansy barked a loud laugh, licking her spoon seductively as she purposely failed to meet our eyes, "A Fawley at the Malfoy's, that should be a funny joke. Oh and let's not forget about our little Greengrass friend," her eyes hovered over me, "I'm sure she'll be delighted to meet her replacement face to face." My stomach filled with anxiety at just the thought.
Friday morning I was acutely reminded that we were dismissed from all classes so we could leave early for the Manor. Hilda had me up well before 8am, ripping open my curtains to show me dozens of dress options. I finally pointed gingerly at the option I was sure she was going to pick anyways and felt relief when the violation of my tired mind came to a close, as she agreed and packed it away.
"So you're not even going to pack anything besides your typical garb? Won't they like, I don't know, melt you on the spot?" She asked, shooting me a worried frown as I laid on my bed flipping through a textbook absentmindedly.
I shrugged, "Fuck dem."
"Hmph," Pansy remarked across the room, stuffing several dresses into her travel trunk, "They'll probably obliviate her and keep her chained in the kitchens to cook with the elves for all eternity." Her dark bob was bouncing in perfect harmony with her steps as she moved around, grabbing all sorts of beauty items. Hilda sent a revulsed look in her direction.
After forcing myself to pack at least something, underwear, sleeping clothing, books to read, floo powder in a secret compartment in case I was trapped there again, we lugged our things down the round stair case. My jaw dropped when I almost ran directly into Malfoy as I had been leading the pack and he was waiting on the bottom stair, dressed in the black suit he wore at the so often.
"Good," his eyes shot to my luggage, which was actually just a forgery of preparedness, "You're coming in the Malfoy carriage." He physically grabbed my hand to drag me but the touch was too intimate and we both inhaled, frozen. I looked at him with wide eyes, wondering if he had meant instead to grab my wrist in our typical fashion.
Hilda clapped a hand to her mouth to prevent the imminent giggle, but it was too late and she let it slip, "Ha!" I felt my own lip tremble as I kept direct eye contact with Draco. Hilda always made me laugh uncontrollably and vice versa. I stifled a short giggle by wrinkling my nose and Draco became completely uncomfortable, looking away and dropping my fingers. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the floor.
Pansy shoved past all three of us in irritation, ensuring that her shoulder banged into Draco hatefully, "Keep your affections to yourself, Malfoy."
"Parkinson," he said darkly, and for a moment I felt a pang of anxiety. Had he just responded with a similar tone? I knew Pansy had been jealous of his other relationships since I'd met her, but never had seen anything concrete in the form of there being an actual history between the two.
"WELL," Hilda bellowed obnoxiously between the three of us to break this tension, "Malfoy, why don't you just lead the way since we all know your stalker arse is going to force us to walk with you anyways."
He glanced at her with cool eyes, looking exhausted by her presence already. "Gladly," was all he said as he led us out towards the pick up area. The walk down through the woods was characterized by Hilda and I ranting about nonsense while Malfoy kept his eyes to the snow, looking unusually glum.
When we stopped in front of lines of carriages, he pointed at the familiar Malfoy crest painted onto a gold and black carriage. Hilda and I stood there staring and his face became stony, searching between our reactions, "Fawley isn't coming with us." His voice was admonitory and he stole another glance at Hilda through sideways eyes.
"Oh come on, darling, please?" I begged in a taunting voice. I wanted the company of Hilda for two reasons, one being that I was fond of her companionship, and two being that I dreaded the idea of being alone with Malfoy for hours on end in the very carriage that had been so traumatizing before.
I searched his face with a genuine pout, gripping the handle of my trunk when the driver came to relieve me of it.
"Mistress Malfoy? May I take your things?" The old, frail looking man asked politely as I swung the handle away from his wrinkled, outstretched hand. Draco's face became livid at the disobedience and he shook his head at me like he was attempting to liquify me. Hilda snickered unapologetically, whispering Mistress Malfoy under her breath.
He straightened his suit with a deep frown, hand gesturing to Hilda's discomposure, "You really expect me to endure this, for hours?" I knew he was referring to our incessant laughing fits, but I honestly couldn't care. In fact, it would be a gift from heaven if he were to lose his mind on the journey and get sent to St. Mungo's.
"Why don't I just go in de Fawley carriage and I'll see you there?" I ventured, leaning on Hilda.
"Not a chance. You think I'm that daft? You'll never show up." He was scowling again, his eyes turning black with rage and impatience. The old driver left with Malfoy's briefcase hastily, not sure of when I was planning to surrender my own luggage.
"Get in the carriage, Madeleine, or so help me-"
"Hilda is coming," I cut him off, stomping my foot. My freshly cleaned blond waves bounced with the action. Hilda was starting to notice Malfoy's darkening mood and I could see her leaning away slightly, looking skeptical of the outcome. His nostrils flared as he pointed lasers through my golden eyes.
He finally spoke, his face pinched tightly with unconcealed fury. "Very well, but I'm going to make myself clear," he spun to face us both fully, his walking cane coming down onto the brick pavers with a metallic thud between our bodies. Hilda jumped, having been less exposed to his mannerisms than me, "There will no outbursts. There will be no giddiness, or toying around, or distracting Ackley."
Hilda maintained a steady voice for once and I felt relieved at the successful effort, "Who's Ackley?" She asked.
We both fought to not snort at the basic question which seemed so humorous under the intensity of his blue orbs. Draco looked alarmed already, narrowing his eyes between our faces, but turned to point the cane wordlessly at the elderly driver who was now returning with deep nervousness.
Ackley took our luggage with a gentle grin, his white mustache ruffling. We all piled into the carriage, Malfoy and I on one side while Hilda sprawled across her own entire seat. I saw Draco's eyes flit to her shoes which she didn't remove in the process, but he held his tongue.
The first part of the trip was surprisingly tame and quiet. Several hours went by as Hilda and I read our own books, and Draco slowly fell asleep against the window. It was then that I noticed how burnt out he looked in the innocence of his sleep. His eyes were dark and it almost looked like he wasn't breathing he was so deep in a dream. Even the bouncing of the solid wood carriage against his blond locks didn't wake him up.
Hilda traced my gaze to his unconscious form, "You know, he's almost handsome when he looks dead."
I laughed, the first laugh to erupt in the carriage. The can of worms had been opened, and Hilda snorted, "We should draw a mustache on him." My eyes shot to the ground as I tried to suppress my reaction to the suggestion.
"Do you think he's faking being asleep so he can catch us misbehaving?" She pondered, grabbing his cane from it's perch next to him and cautiously prodding his chest. He didn't even flinch.
"I don' know, I don' think so," I said with my hand over my mouth, a shred of fear was perched on my heart as she prodded and I imagined him grabbing the cane and hitting her mercilessly in return. "He prefers to be aggressive."
"Yeah, fuck he sure does, little prick," she nodded as she dug around in her small bag hanging from her hip, producing the bottomless flask she always had at parties. "Let's pre-drink. I'm bored."
I shook my head, "We cannot. Dat is too scary. His father ees...particular."
She waved a hand and took a large gulp as I cringed with wide eyes, "All of our families will be there, you really think he's going to single you out? Your turn, Frenchness." She held out the shiny silver container. I glanced over at Draco, who lay like a corpse with his face half hidden by his hair. What the heck.
I took it and gulped. We went back and forth for at least thirty minutes, gradually getting louder and more ridiculous as the time flew by. The landscape had predominantly subsided into massive farmers fields. It seemed like endless horizons of lifeless, flat snowy expanses sleeping for the winter. Finally Hilda turned and unhinged the window dividing her back from the driver's coach. She carefully stuck her entire head through the hole, then reappeared with an expression of relief on her dainty features. Agonizingly and slowly the carriage came to a halt.
"I had to pee," she explained, her eyes trained on the sleeping dragon in the corner as she silently pulled at the door handle, "Be quiet. Let's both go so we don't die on our way there."
I grimaced, but she was right. I had to go really badly from the alcohol. Without a sound we managed to escape the confines of the Malfoy mobile, and run to a tree out in the middle of a nearby field. We were laughing freely as we pulled up our dresses and bounced through the thick snow. Several other pureblood carriages on the same route came to a stop behind ours, displeased faces peering out the windows with annoyance at the cause.
When we had come back to the carriage, I stuck my face against the glass and peered in, flattening my nose. Malfoy hadn't moved a muscle. Hilda smacked my head gently, "Oh Merlin's beard Madeleine, what if he had seen you like that all mushed up on the glass?" We wheezed for a few seconds at the image, then we climbed back into place mutely and the horses marched onwards.
We maintained low voices for the next twenty or so minutes out of fear that he had woken up and was eavesdropping. We stole guilty snickers at each other as we kept sipping. Finally, Hilda poked at him again with the cane that had become a bit of toy, and when nothing happened we let our volume return to normal.
"How is he in bed? You know..." she opened her mouth with a saucy expression, pointing downwards, "His, you know?"
I refrained from saying anything out loud for fear that he would overhear. Instead I took a large gulp of the fire whiskey, and then spread my fingers apart to show the distance in the air in front of my face.
She laughed coyly at the measurement, "Oh what, no way! I don't believe you!" I shrugged and I bit my lip. She evaluated him looking impressed and my smile dropped slightly, out of irrational jealousy. "If I was being forced to marry that, maybe you know, it wouldn't be so bad. He's kinda cute, really though."
"Mustache, let's do dat," I said too loudly, hoping to distract her from the far off look she was suddenly giving him. I pulled my wand from my purse and guardedly waved it over his bare lip, trying with great energy not to slip and poke him in the face. Hilda let out a loud crack before I could finish the second half and my arm dragged straight across, leaving one half curled properly and one half straight over his lip in a mish-mash of two types of mustaches.
"Madeleine!" She was wailing and I fell off of the chair trying not to piss myself from the crime in front of me, "Madeleine...Mad- it's pitch black, you drew it the wrong color he looks like a creep." Tears were running down each of our faces as I struggled to get back into mine and Draco's seat. The road had grown bumpy and I recognized the forested section from the previous trip. We were on the final hour of the journey.
Suddenly he was stirring from the commotion and we both let out guilty gasps. My long blue dress was pinned under my foot and kept tripping me as I tried to get back in the seat. His face turned away from the window just as Hilda grabbed me by my neck and threw me across into my chair. He groaned, but his eyes stayed shut. The mustache was now the central focus of the carriage and we were both wheezing through our hands.
"We are nearly der," I finally choked out, " We should try to calm down."
"Not a chance! The party hasn't even started yet," Hilda whined. "Let's open the roof and stick out our heads."
I rolled my eyes - she was the worst possible influence on me. Especially around my lethal fiancée. But I was fairly wasted at that point so I helped her undo the latch and we stuck out our arms and heads, laughing and smiling with glee. Cold air flooded into the small space below us. The driver in the carriage behind the Malfoy carriage started waving sheepishly when suddenly I felt a sharp tug and my head popped back into the cabin.
I was met with steely blue eyes. He'd grabbed me by my dress, directly between my breasts so that our faces were very close. My knees were down on the seat between his legs, where he'd moved into the center of the chair to snag me. I smiled at him like a goof and tried not to look down at the fake mustache that hovered in my peripherals.
"Care to explain?" He said shortly, his voice was silky but irate. I was suddenly smacked with the realization that if I opened my mouth this close to his face, he would immediately smell the booz. I sucked my plump lips inwards and shook my head fervently. My hair was draped over my shoulders in long messy waves that I tried to retreat deeper into.
"Oh shit," I heard Hilda look down at my disappearance. She shut the roof and sat back, her head lulled along the back of the seat with a loopy expression, "Let her go Malfoy, I've never been one to watch live pornography."
He leaned around me to narrow his eyes, "Yeah, I'm sure you've had plenty of opportunities," he said sarcastically. I put my hands on his knees to twist away and turned to see Hilda struggling violently not to react to the mustache, her eyebrows were almost vanishing into her hairline.
"Well..." Hilda said through tight, quivering lips as her eyes darted from mine to his, "Given the state of Madeleine's neck, I'd say you've had less than me."
He used one hand to drag me down next to him, seated appropriately now but crammed into the third of the chair that I had. My leg overlapped his, the light blue fabric spilling into his lap. I stared at my hands with wide eyes, trying to get my hyperactivity under control. He was scowling between us, furious, "This is precisely what I didn't want. You two can't control your lunacy around each other. Give me the liquor." He leaned towards Hilda, already knowing exactly who the instigator had been, his wide palm outstretched. His eyes were dripping with warning, like Hilda and I were two toddlers that had just painted the interior of the house. The line that ran up between his eyebrows when he was angry was especially exaggerated.
I tried not to focus on the warm hand that was down behind my back and tightly around my waist while he took the flask from Hilda and threw it straight out the window. He smelled good, his stern behavior was turning me on in a nonsensical way all of a sudden. I felt his fingers shifting their grip on me with every bump of the carriage. He leaned back against the chair, not giving me any more space and glared at Hilda. He shifted his arm up behind my neck and his hand pulled me against him tightly around my shoulders, like a prized possession. My heart lit on fire.
"Hilda," his deep, scornful voice cut through the tension, "Madeleine needs to impress my parents for her own safety. Don't distract her tonight." I felt the giddiness fade away with the statement. Hilda shrugged with the same look of deflation and just looked out the window for the remaining trip.
I felt him lean into my ear, "Talk to me. How much did you drink? "His breath running down my neck made me blink from the shivers.
"A lot," I weakly muttered, turning to face him and felt his nose hit mine before he shifted the angle of his face.
"Mmmm, I can smell it. Not good," And I could smell his fresh breath on my lips, not good. In my drunken haze I almost pushed our lips together, "You need to sober up. Follow me when we get there and try not to speak to anyone. We'll hide you in my room until you're acceptable." His eyes were matching mine with a blank look. I mentally concluded that there was more than 10 different shades of blue in the striking combination.
When the carriage arrived, a young well dressed man about our age opened the door. Hilda stepped out and dragged her fingers provocatively along the boys collarbones, his face turning a shade of bright pink. I stepped out next, gripping the door to remain stable, feeling Malfoy's fingers around my waist to guide me down the tiny stairs. I silently prayed that neither Narcissa or Lucius were witnessing any part of this arrival. When Draco was on the gravel, straightening his suit, the young valet man stood gasping at him.
"Something hilarious?" Draco leered at him callously.
"I...I just have never seen a mustache like that before, Mr. Malfoy." The valet boy's face was white as he picked words that were the least likely to have him decapitated.
"What-" he briefly narrowed his eyes at the boy before his head swung around and he raised an angry eyebrow at Hilda and I, standing there trying not to cackle.