Shades of Grey
12. Down to Earth

Disclaimer: You know.
Author's Note: So as a way of telling you I'm sorry for leading you on to think that I'll be updating more frequently and then going silent for weeks, this chapter is pretty long and very kickass. ENJOY.

Christopher Martell pulled his hood up to guard against the drizzle of rain coming from the night sky. He stepped carefully on the gravel path, trying his best not to slip in the water. Occasionally there would come the sound of a peacock in the bushes, and he hurried on toward the front door. He had an envelope clutched in his grip, beneath the safety of his cloak. There was only a dim flicker of light visible through the front window of Malfoy Manor. Under the shield of the awning, Christopher pulled the envelope out from underneath his clothes, and adjusted himself before knocking on the door. It took a couple of minutes for the door to open and reveal Narcissa, her eyes red and watery, a cut across her cheek.

"Christopher," she breathed, as though in relief.

"Is something wrong?" he asked cautiously, looking at her injury. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, please come in," she urged.

Christopher stepped over the threshold into Malfoy Manor. He remembered it being different. Something about the place was suddenly darker. The paintings on the walls gave off a horrid feeling of death, and the echo of his shoes against the floor cut lashes against his skin. He shivered. Suddenly, he noticed Narcissa's eyes staring at him pointedly. He couldn't understand the meaning of this look, so he simply held the envelope out in front of him. But before he could say anything about it, Narcissa spoke.

"Won't you join us in the drawing room?" she offered. Us? Christopher thought. He followed her to the adjoining room, his shoes clicking on the hard floor. "Have a seat."

Upon entering the drawing room, he understood why Narcissa was in a state. For standing next to the stone fireplace was the one man who made even Christopher's gut grow cold. He quickly fell into a bow, and muttered, "My Lord."

"Martell," hissed the Dark Lord's cold, high voice. "Good of you to join us. We were just speaking about you actually."

"About m-me, My Lord?"

"What's that in your hand?" he asked, not answering the question. He sounded completely uninterested, looking at the burning cinders of the fireplace.

"A package for Narcissa, My Lord," he replied, looking over at the woman in question, who was standing awkwardly to the side, her head bowed.

"Then give it to her," he demanded as though annoyed he hadn't done so already.

"Yes, My Lord," Christopher nodded, and handed the envelope to Narcissa, who reached out a shaking hand to take it. She was about to set it down on a table when the Dark Lord interrupted.

"Well? Open it."

Narcissa hesitated, but with an urging nod from Christopher, tore open the flap which made a very loud noise in the silence. She took out the stack of parchment, read the title of the first page, nodded, and moved to replace them in the envelope.

"Well," spoke the Dark Lord in a bored tone, "what is it?"

"My Lord," Narcissa spoke, "it's really of no importance."

"On the contrary," he hissed coolly, "it is of great importance. Any business of yours is of concern to me, Narcissa."

Christopher suspected that the Dark Lord already knew the contents of the envelope, but he couldn't quite figure out the reason for his inquiry. He watched as Narcissa handed the parchment to the Dark Lord, who read them over with a smirk spreading across his thin lips. Christopher wondered what the Dark Lord could possibly find so amusing in the marriage contract in his hand. For that's what it was —Rose and Draco's marriage contract. As the bride's father, there were agreements to be signed and forms to be filled out, which is why he had it in his possession. Now he was handing it over to Narcissa for her to fill out the required portion as the groom's parent. Upon coming to Malfoy Manor, he only intended to drop off the contract, perhaps have a cup of tea as well. Instead, he finds himself standing in the Malfoy's drawing room as the Dark Lord himself read over said contract with curiosity. As Christopher continued to contemplate why the Dark Lord would take such an interest in it, everything fell into place. The realization dawned on him right as the Dark Lord opened his mouth to speak.

"Well, it's nice to see that daughter of yours doing something useful for once. I've actually been eyeing her for some time now, though I didn't expect to her to come so soon. There's a lot of anger in that one. She's smart, powerful. A great asset."

"With all due respect, My Lord, the girl is useless. She won't be worth it. She'll be a waste—an embarrassment."

"She'll be a hell of a lot more valuable than her pansy husband," he replied, shooting a glance at Narcissa, who clenched her jaw.

"I must encourage you to rethink your decision, My Lord—"

"I do not make exceptions," he growled, throwing the parchment down on the floor at his feet. "Are you questioning me, Christopher?"

"No, My Lord. Do as you please, My Lord. My apologies, My Lord."

He sniffed. "Good. I expect a proper introduction to the future Mrs. Malfoy." He said this with a wrinkle of his nose. "Narcissa, we will continue our discussion another day."

"Very well, My Lord," she replied stiffly.

Without a last word, he swept from the room, and the door banged shut behind him. Christopher turned on Narcissa, ready to give her a piece of his mind, but as he opened his mouth to speak, she burst into tears. Christopher's brow crinkled as he walked over and laid a hand on her back. She continue to sob uncontrollably for several minutes. Christopher took her to the couch and enveloped her in his arms as she sobbed for her son's safety. Christopher failed to feel a pang of pain in his chest for his daughter.

. . .

"There is absolutely nothing better than Saturday morning breakfast. There are no classes, the food is better, and it's after 10!" Rose exclaimed, stacking her plate high with pancakes. "This is the life."

"What about Sunday morning?" Daphne volunteered.

Rose shrugged. "Not as good."

"Martell, pass the syrup," Draco asked, setting a pile of pancakes on his own plate.

"Get your own."

"Fine," he replied, and reached all the way across her plate with his right hand as his left settled on her lower back for balance. A shiver ran through her. "You're just no help."

"It's Saturday. I don't help, assist, or exert energy," she clarified.

"Uhm-hmm," he muttered, pouring maple syrup all over his pancakes. Rose grabbed the saucer from him and poured a large puddle of it on the side of her own plate. As she cut a pancake in half and dipped it in the gooey substance, she felt a hand on her thigh. She looked up suddenly at Draco, who sat completely at ease, eating a soaking pancake from his plate. His hand ran up and down her thigh, slowly inching closer to her waistband.

"Oh look! Mail!" Rose shouted suddenly, jumping a little. Draco retracted his hand. She dipped her head down to cover the blush that was creeping across her cheeks. She was so absorbed in avoiding anyone's gaze that she didn't notice the owl that landed in front of her. After another minute, Draco spoke up.

"Something's gone horribly, horribly wrong, Rose."

She looked up at him. "What d'you mean?"

"You're not going to like this," he replied solemnly.

"What are you on about?" she demanded. He didn't answer. "Draco?"

Daphne looked at them curiously. "What's going on?" she asked, trying to peer at the letter.

"Rose, we need to talk," Draco said brusquely. "Now."

Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand and began pulling her out of the Great Hall. They had only gotten as far as the Entrance Hall when she pulled herself from his grasp and ordered him to explain himself. He looked hesitantly at the closed door to the room where the entire school was opening their mail and finishing up their breakfast. He then handed the parchment to her with a shaky hand. When she had it in her grasp, he took a step back as though she might explode and he wanted to be out of range. Rose gave him an odd look before looking down at her letter. She read it several times, trying to make sense of the words.

"I don't get it," she announced finally.

"Rose, it means—"

"I don't get it," she repeated, growing angry. "How!"

"It—it's always been like that, Rose. I just—I never really realized. It never occurred to me—"

"It never occurred to you?" she shouted.

"Rose, please don't yell—"

"I'll yell as much as I damn well please!" she said hysterically. "No! No, no, no, no, no, NO!"

He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder but she shoved him away. "You! You knew this? How could you? I'm dead! Do you understand that? I am as good as dead now! And you killed me! You!"

He stepped toward her, ignoring her attempt to push him away. "Rose, I'm sorry," he said sincerely, taking her hands. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," she spat, throwing his hands down. "This is just what you wanted. Now you can have it all."

"How can you say that?" he said. "I wouldn't wish this even on you."

She ignored the jab. "Well, like it or not, I don't have a choice anymore, do I? God, I swore to myself I would never marry one of you. Ever. And now I will. And look where it's gotten me. I should have fucking known."

Draco didn't say anything. He just looked on, his eyebrow creased in worry. She looked like she wanted to cry, but she didn't. Instead, she gritted her teeth, crumpling the letter as she clenched her hands into fists. After a while she spoke, her teeth still stuck together.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill all of you if that's what I have to do. This," she held up the wrinkled parchment, "will never come to pass. Ever."

"You can't escape from this, Rose. The Dark Lord—when He wants something…you can't escape from that."

"Watch me," she snapped.

Draco wanted to say more, but was interrupted by the doors to the Great Hall bursting open. Hoards of students began to spill out. Rose stood her ground, not moving aside. Draco stayed with her. People gave them strange looks as they passed. The Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs walked past with Slytherin house lumbered out lazily behind. And who should happen to come across them than the one person Rose was least anxious to see, now more than ever.

"Have you finally done it, Draco?" came Pansy Parkinson's grating voice. "Have you finally broken her delusion and told her you're not interested?"

"Sod off, Pansy," he replied in a low voice.

"I wouldn't want to spoil the moment—you look like you're at the part where you're going to cry, Martell. I think I'll just sit back and enjoy the show."

"Parkinson," Rose said, looking up at her from under her eyelashes. "If you have any concern for your own health, you will leave. Right now."

Pansy guffawed. "You hear that girls? She's threatening me."

Rose looked up at Pansy, who was surrounded by her usual gang of Slytherin girls. Millicent and two fourth-years whose names Rose couldn't remember. Rose suspected the look on her face would be enough to stab Pansy to death, but the pug-faced idiot didn't even blink.

"Let's face it, Martell. Draco will never love you the way he loves me. No one loves you, Martell. Not even your own parents."

Rose didn't even think enough to take her wand out of her robe pocket as she barreled the few feet across the Entrance Hall to Pansy. She was still laughing as Rose's fist collided with her face, causing a loud cracking sound in her jaw. Rose swung her arm back to hit her again, when a hand caught her wrist. She looked to see Draco's pale fingers enclosed around her.

"Don't," Draco whispered in her ear. "Teachers are coming."

Sure enough, several professors were emerging after the students from the Great Hall. Their eyes swept the crowd, looking for anyone causing trouble.

"This isn't over, Parkinson," Rose growled, and stalked away with Draco following closely behind.

Neither of them spoke until they had reached the dungeons. They turned a different way from the flow of students heading to the common room. Rose slid to the floor, and buried her face in her hands.

"So the good news is, I think you broke Pansy's jaw," Draco announced.

Rose almost let out a chuckle. "Yeah, fucking cow. She deserved it."

"And more," he added.

"And more," she agreed.

"But you know, beating the stuffing out of Pansy won't change what's happening here."

"No kidding," she retorted. "So then what will?"

"Nothing."

Rose nodded, and looked up at Draco. He raised the corner of his mouth in a smile. She didn't grin back. He crouched beside her, took her face in his hands, and whispered, "I know a great way to cheer you up."

As much as Rose wanted to kick and scream, as much as she wanted to hex Draco into oblivion, she didn't resist him. On the contrary, she immersed herself in the kiss with so much aggression, Draco had to be the one to pull away to take a breath. She wouldn't let him go. She gripped the back of his head, desperately pushing his lips closer to hers. After several minutes of this, Draco disengaged himself from her grasp; she growled in frustration.

"If you want to take all of your anger out on me sexually, be my guest," Draco smirked, "but I still have a job to do. Would you like to accompany me?"

"No," she replied. "I want nothing to do with it."

"You sure about that?" he asked, kissing her again. "How about now?"

She chuckled. "You're something else, Malfoy," she said, shaking her head, as she stood up to follow him to the Hidden Room.

. . .

While Draco worked on the Cabinet, Rose explored the depth of the Room. She wandered through the towers of stuff stacked all around. She even got lost a couple of times, and Draco had to come find her. But it was a good way to pass the time, and before she knew it, they were headed to dinner. Rose wondered how everyone could possibly be so oblivious to what was going on right under their own noses. It didn't make any sense to her how the entire student body could be sitting around chatting when her life as she knew it was coming to an end.

"Rose, are you going to eat something?" Draco asked, nudging her side.

"What?" she said, snapping out of her daze. "Oh, yeah. Food. Definitely."

He stared for a moment. "Rose, eat."

"Right," she nodded, taking a piece of chicken and setting it on her plate, but not eating it.

Draco sighed. "Daphne, I'm going to take her to the common room. Bring her some food or something later, okay?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Daphne replied, looking at them skeptically.

Draco half-carried Rose from the Great Hall. It took them a while to get to the common room, and a while longer to convince the fifth years on the couch to move out of the way. But, finally, Draco set Rose down. He looked at her and groaned in frustration. She looked up quizzically.

"You're so bloody irritating," he said.

"I bet your pardon?"

"You heard me. You're irritating. I know this is difficult for you or whatever, but going catatonic at dinner isn't going to help, Roselyn. It's going to make it worse. You like your friends, hmm? Your friend Daphne? Remember her? Like her? Yeah, she gives a shit about you. She's worried sick, if you haven't noticed, but she has no fucking clue what to do, because you don't talk to her anymore. Did you tell her what happened? No. You've said nothing. Your best friend, and you didn't have the decency to tell her that your parents have signed you off to become a—"

"Draco!"

"Whatever. The point is, you need to stop thinking about yourself. Get your head out of your own ass, and notice that the Universe does not revolve around you and your problems, Rose. No one is going to stop and give a shit about you—except for Daphne. And you treat her as if she's not even there."

"Why are you lecturing me? Why do you care?" she asked angrily.

"Because unfortunately for me, I have to spend the rest of my miserable existence putting up with you, so I figured I'll start early in dealing with your problems, and putting you in your place."

Rose scoffed. "My place?"

"Yeah, your place. The one that's not 50 kilometers above everyone else. The place that's right down here on Earth with the rest of us. It's not all about you, Rose. Everyone has their own problems. So get the fuck over it."

She stared at him in bewilderment, not knowing how to respond. He waited two seconds before walking away from her. She was dimly aware of people watching, but didn't care. She stood up and ran after him, but the dungeon corridor was empty. She sprinted all the way up to the Room, but she didn't know to get into it without him, so she sat against the wall in front of it, hoping he would come out. But after two hours, he didn't, and she went back to her dormitory where she slunk into bed for the night, her energy drained completely.

"Rosie?" Daphne's voice came dimly from her right. She lifted her head up to see Daphne sitting on her own bed, looking at her.

"Yeah?" Rose managed.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"No, Daph, I'm not okay," Rose replied. Daphne nodded in understanding, and they both went to sleep.

A/N: Owned.

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