Chapter Three
Both of the newly-weds sat in the quiet room that Draco had spent his childhood in, growing and playing whenever time allowed it, awkward and not sure quite what to say to one another. Draco watched as Emelé traced the patterns of the beautiful dress, following the swirling patterns all the way up to her arms and back down once more. Both blushed when they noticed each other gazing at the other; one being caught in the act of staring, the other only just noticing the pondering eyes that watched her with a wild curiosity.
Catching a thought, Draco stood abruptly, shocking the slight brunette as he strolled into the wardrobe before coming back, a box in hand. He blushed once more as he held it out to her, smiling smally as she took it with timid hands, one of her eyebrows cocked in wonder. "What is it?" She asked quietly as he sat back down, turning so that his whole frame was facing her.
"I bought them for you. I thought perhaps you'd feel uncomfortable wearing your dress all night, I wasn't sure if they'd bring you any other clothes." He shrugged, as though the gesture was nothing more than a brief thought. In fact, Draco had worried tiresomely over how well cared for Emelé was, knowing his family and those they kept acquaintance with. He'd rushed out yesterday to buy the small piece of fabric, paying a fair few galleons to ensure his wife had only the best. Emelé supposed she'd have to get used to the astronomical price tags on items as frivolous as clothing.
Inside the box, a silk dress was folded with care to ensure no creases. The fabric a deep rouge that matched the colour of your lipstick. It was fairly plain, spare a few tiny flowers that sat where her waist would fit. Running her fingers over it, just as she had with the extravagant gown she adorned, she smiled softly. "It's beautiful Draco, thank-you." Her voice seemed almost as soft as the material in her hands, and there was a glaze of vulnerability over her blue eyes - she couldn't remember the last time someone had given her something just because they could. It was a long time ago, she was sure of that.
As she left the bedroom to change, Draco went down to the study to find his Mother, who was engrossed in what looked like a mountain of paperwork. He wasn't even sure when she'd started doing work, perhaps when Father had stopped. Narcissa looked up as he entered, the smile wavering slightly on her thin lips as she set aside the piece of parchment.
"Are you both packed?" She asked, confusing her son. Upon seeing the blank expression on his face the woman sighed. "Your Father was supposed to tell you." There was a bitterness when she spoke of Lucius, almost as though she wanted to hex him into oblivion. Draco doubted that anyone would complain if she did so.
Walking over to the seat beside her he spoke. "What exactly are we packing for?"
"You and the girl will stay together for the duration of Summer. It is imperative that you two know as much about each other as possible, a bond will keep this marriage from withering away. And once the war is over, you will both reside there - it truly is a magnificent house." There had been a unanimous decision amongst the Death Eaters in favour of this plan. None knew exactly what Voldemort was planning for the two of them, but to ensure that it went well the two would be better knowing one another well than not knowing each other at all.
A thought occurred as he listened to his mother speak. "When we return to Hogwarts, will people... be aware of our marriage?" Draco wondered aloud, cringing slightly at the thought of telling people that he was a husband already. Not that it was particularly uncommon in Pureblood families.
Narcissa sighed, handing him the Daily Prophet. Plastered on the front was a picture of him and Emelé; her hair was blowing slightly from the light breeze, rouged lips turned upwards as she looked at Draco. He hadn't even noticed that she had been looking at him that way, and in the photograph he appeared to be gazing back absently - almost looking disinterested in the whole fiasco. His eyes drifted down to their entwined hands, mesmerised by the movement of his thumb against the hood of her petite hand; skin on skin, their rings glittering under the lights that surrounding the alter. Emelé's beauty shone in the photo, eyes bright and smile - while subtle - was equally as stunning.
To Narcissa's surprise, Draco found himself smiling as he continued to look at the moving picture. "You are not angry." She murmured, shock in her voice. His eyes flickered to hers before going back down shaking his head. After a moment he threw the paper into the fire, turning to walk out of the room.
"I'll pack our things."
