Platform 9 3/4 was bustling with the hubbub of happy parents seeing their children again after many months of Hogwarts education. Strong fathers were present to pick up the luggage, and mothers offered doting antics. On the whole, no Hogwart's student seemed to have any problems with this treatment - except for the ones who weren't getting it. Where are they? Hermione wondered as she waited for her luggage to be brought outside to her. Draco had very kindly - and uncharacteristically - offered to take her bags down. She watched the platform for any sign of her tall, dark haired mother next to her tall father, but none came. From a distance, she saw John Brody being pulled along by an older woman who remarkably had many of his features. Draco suddenly joined her at her spot against the wall.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to Brody?" He asked, a hint of sarcasm to his tone. Clara's frown couldn't get any deeper.

"Did you get my bags?" She asked instead of taking to his "bait."

"Of course." He grumbled.

"Good. I'll take them then." She reached for her large suitcase, only slightly worried that she might not be able to withstand its weight, but another hand stopped her.

"No, Clara. I have them." She looked into his deep blue eyes and saw tenacity behind them: he wanted to prove something to her. She slowly pulled back.

"Now, c'mon then." Draco told her as he struggled to gather her entire luggage set. She looked confused.

"Where are we going?" She asked. Weren't they going to wait at the station? Draco looked only slightly surprised.

"They didn't tell you?" He asked her in a low voice.

"What didn't they tell me?" Clara challenged. Not this nonsense again.

"I'll tell you later. We're late." He made to turn and guide her off the platform, but she took hold of his arm.

"Draco, tell me." It sounded like a cross between desperation and demand, but Draco steeled himself against the affects and looked her straight in the eye.

"I can't here. I have orders."

"Orders?" Clara scoffed. "Orders? From who? Not from… not from him." Her demeanor quickly changed and became quite pallor. "Surely we're not going there…" She thought she felt rather week all of a sudden.

"Sh! Keep your voice down. Of course we're not going there. What are you, daft?" Despite their venom, Draco's words were successful in calming Clara.

"Fine, then where are we going?" She asked.

"Follow me."

Chateau de Villette* was built in the 17th century for the Count of Aufflay. It is a grand estate resting on 185 acres and is reminiscent of Versailles, which it was modeled after. Currently, the soft wind of a December afternoon swept across the grounds, weaving in and out of the tall, bushy trees scattered randomly across the way. A long gravel pathway led to the ancient mansion. It was empty, save for the occasional small creature to scatter across. At its entrance was an ornate welcoming gate.

Crack!

Just outside the bounds of the medieval-styled gate, a young couple appeared, their long trench coats billowing in the force of their coming. The girl squinted.

"Where are we?" Clara asked. The dense trees cast a dark shadow over where they stood. The giant gargoyles seated on either side of the gate did not escape her attention. Draco stepped forward, a key as medieval looking as the gate now in his hand.

"The second Malfoy Manor." He inserted the key into the lock. In a series of high-pitched squeaks, Draco opened the right gate enough so he and Clara could walk through. He was about to enter, but stopped, as if an idea had occurred to him. He stepped aside and motioned Clara in front of him.

"Why are we entering this way?" She asked as she came through the barrier. Draco followed and promptly locked the gate.

"The place is heavily warded."

He didn't say anything else until they were inside the house. On the way there, Clara took in her surroundings as carefully as she could. It was all very lovely, she decided, and not intimidating at all. There was an express wonder in visiting historic landmarks for Hermione. The house she could see in the distance was old; that was obvious for anyone. As they broke past the ubiquitous trees, Clara spotted lakes on either side of the luxury home. Two guest houses flanked the main building, attached by arched walkways to and from the house. There was endless grass all around. She tried stifling her awe.

After getting off the train – which was barely a half hour before – they had scooted past some very shady looking pedestrians to reach the back alley of a small coffee shop. A trashcan lid portkey had been waiting for them with a curious green serpent marking on it. Clara was dubious at first (a garbage lid, really?) but no longer held any doubt about it.

"Er, Draco." Clara called.

"Yes."

"Where are we exactly?" She asked slowly.

"The second Malfoy-" He started.

"No, I mean in proximity to London."

He hardly considered a moment and barely glanced at her. "We're about thirty minutes away from Paris by car."

Paris? Her internal commentary on the estate quickly vanished as she began fantasizing about going into the city. It was her most favorite place in the world, and now she could visit it again!

In front of the tall double door entrance, Draco produced another key, this one smaller and of a more gold color than the last. He unlocked the door with a satisfying click and they stepped over the threshold.

The high-ceiling-ed, marble floored foyer was surprisingly bright and welcoming inside. The walls were a warm hue of gold, more accentuated by the grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Spiral staircases on either side led upstairs to grand master bedrooms and guest residence. In front of them, short hallways would lead to the back of the house and several parlors and dining areas in the mansion. In the center of the circular room was an antique wooden table with an envelope on it.

Clara spotted the white paper first.

"What's that?" Draco asked, coming up right behind her.

"A letter addressed to the both of us." Clara flipped it over and began tearing the flap open. The parchment inside was small. She looked at the script. Her father had written it.

Clara and Draco,

If you are reading this then you arrived safely. If you are confused now, do not worry, we will reach you in a few days. There is a lot happening here and neither of you needs to be involved at the moment. In the meantime, stay within the estate boundaries, where it is safe. We cannot risk anyone locating you. You will have to entertain yourselves until then. Duffy is there to assist you.

Please, be safe.

Your family

Clara only needed to read the letter once to understand its contents, but she read it again, if only to relive her father's concerned words once more. Draco was done with it already, heading down one of the halls that led to who knows where.

"Duffy!" Clara called quickly. Crack!

"Miss called?" The elf squeaked.

"Take our things please." Clara told Duffy, waving vaguely in the direction of their luggage. She was preoccupied with the direction Draco was going. She followed him.

The hallway was nicely lit by age-old lights and held numerous pieces of artwork, of which she was sure there was a Da Vinci hiding. She emerged into a cozy sitting room, fire burning bright. Draco was standing up, gazing into the blaze.

"Draco." She moved to stand next to him. His eyes slowly made their way to her face. "Why can't we leave?"

"They said the Dark Lord will want to use us for something. They're keeping us here until it happens."

"And we can't leave the house?"

"This estate is very heavily guarded. No one knows this mansion is in our possesion, not even the Dark Lord. If we leave, it would be easier for someone to track us." His eyes shifted to the paper she was still holding. "We need to get rid of that letter." Clara looked down at it, at the only words she had truly received from her father in months, and back up at Draco.

"Why?"

"To be safe." He shrugged. Clara took one last look at it, stepped forward, and pitched it into the fire. She stepped back and watched the smoky tendrils weave into the air as the flames began curling the paper. The fire cracked. Niether spoke for a moment.

"The wards extend to the entrance gate, approximately 600 yards into the forest behind the house, and 500 yards beyond the lakes. After that, our guard is cut off." Draco told her. She yawned.

"I think I'll go find my room now." She told him quietly. He was gazing into the fire once again. She started out of the room.

"Clara?"

She hadn't taken three steps before he called her back.

"I won't let anything happen. I'm not going to let him kill my… my family. You'll be safe."

Clara was surprised. A beat passed. Then another one. Finally, she said the only thing that she really could.

"I know."

In the West wing of the temporary home two days later, Clara laid sprawled across one of two yellow sofas, nose buried in a book. Light of an early sun shone through clear glass windows. The french doors were thrown wide, the beginning of a small gravel path leading to a short fountain across the grass.

Clara sighed and put her book down. Where was Draco? Not that it particularly mattered much or anything, but they had agreed to keep within a set distance, just in case. Let's see, they sat down for breakfast not too long ago and then he left without so much as a goodbye…

It was hopeless. Clara was excruciatingly bored. Even with an endless amount of books (the library there was very big) they had nothing on the fact that Paris lay not thirty minutes away. She started bouncing her foot, which was currently hanging over the arm of the couch.

What if she just… no, no she couldn't possibly…

It had already been decided before the thought left her mind.

Clara slowly sat up. She placed her book on the coffee table and proceeded to stand up cautiously.

"Draco?" She called tentatively. Please don't answer… please don't answer… Nothing. "Draco?" She asked the air again. Once more, nothing.

"Duffy!" She called out instead. The elf appeared with her trademark sound.

"Miss?" The small creature asked, a pair of split pants in her arms in the middle of being stitched.

"Do you know where Draco is?" Clara asked non-nonchalantly.

"Master is in his room, miss. Would miss like me to-"

"No, Duffy, that's fine." She cut off quickly. "Actually, I'd like you to do something for me."

"Anything miss."

"I'll need you to call a car for me, Duffy. It seems I'll be going into town this afternoon…"

The weather was not vicious when Clara went outside. Her Ralph Lauren pea coat and her blissfully warm yellow cashmere gloves protected her well against the December chill. It didn't matter that she only wore a short gray skirt with pantyhose and knee-high riding boots to watch her there.

She was waiting just inside the gate for the car Duffy had called half an hour before. She had snaked the spare keys (which Draco had told her about in case of an emergency) and exited the house without any problems. Duffy was sworn to secrecy.

As she waited for the town car, the initial rush of refusing authority – one of the first times in her life – slowly dwindled. She had no idea what had come over her in the first place. Her intense desire to see Paris once again? A need to see fresh faces and interact with society? Or perhaps just a breath of fresh air. Either way, she was beginning to doubt her decision making.

But just before she completely threw the idea away and slugged back into the chateau, the car arrived.

"Clara Claret?" The chauffeur asked in a smooth french accent.

"Oiu." She responded automatically. She took one last glance back at the house while the driver came around to open the door for her before unlocking the gate and climbing into the luxurious back seat.

Paris was lovely. Paris was beautiful. Paris was exactly what Clara had been needing. She had long ago departed from the town car, instructing the driver where to meet her in three hours time in her perfect french. Her time in France previously had allowed her to pick the language up.

All to herself, Clara almost skipped down the Avenue des Champs-Elysees, covered in wonderful snow,ecstatic with the sight of her most favorite city in the world. She continued walking, content with that simple method of travel. She wandered, wandered until she didn't quite possibly know where she was. She listened pleasantly to the quaint french speakers around her.

"Jeune dame, puis-je vous intéresser à un beau chapeau pour cette belle tête?" Young lady, may I interest you in a beautiful hat for that beautiful head? A store owner called to her from outside his small shop. Clara smiled at him.

"Vous pouvez, monsieur." You may, sir. She walked through the snow and into his store, which claimed to be a photo shop, but was more of a trinket shop, if you asked her. Nonetheless, it was cute and held something she found she desperately needed: a snow cap. She found herself oddly fascinated with the small gifts around the place. A Swiss army knife here, a scarf settled over there. It was all very strangely arranged, yet was quite cute. It wasn't long before the store owner came back into his shop to check up on her.

"Trouvez-vous tout que vous avez besoin, la Mlle?" Are you finding everything you need, miss? She turned around, a reply on her lips, when the sight of the person talking to her halted the words. She thought it had been the shopkeeper, but it was actually her livid fiance. Oh dear.

"Draco?" She asked.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed. He didn't give her a chance to answer. "C'mon. Now. We're leaving."

"But Draco-" But nothing. He was already out the door, long gray tweed trench outlining his firm shoulders. She hurried out after him, past the surprised shopkeeper, and stopped him some feet from the store entrance.

"Draco wait." She put her hand on his arm to turn him around. He still didn't look happy.

"Clara," He said quietly. "We have to go back to the manor. It's dangerous out here." His eyes darted sideways.

"Draco, we're in muggle Paris. No one is going to find us here."

"Don't be so sure." He responded cryptically. Clara huffed.

"Just for a little while longer, please? I can't take it inside that house anymore!" She pleaded with him. It was getting ridiculous, she knew, but she needed someway to convey to him the desperation she felt at the idea of heading back into that estate. For a fraction of a second, Draco's eyes softened as he felt the need for her to get out and see the world, if only for a minute. His lips twitched, the first of many times she would see them do so.

Someone interrupted them then.

"Hey, hey. Let's not mess the love up, yeah?" The shopkeeper was telling them in English. "I'll let the pretty lady have a hat for free, yeah?" His earnestness had a laid-back quality to it, as if he were genuinely concerned for the young couple in front of him. Draco's eyes went from the strange man to Clara's unadorned head. He sighed, reaching into his pocket to pull out a crumpled bill.

"Elle prendra deux." She'll take two. The shopkeeper took the money happily and ushered them both into his store. Clara felt uneasy by Draco's side.

"Go on then." He told her when he saw her hesitate. "I paid for the rudy hats…" Clara brought her shoulders up and sauntered further into the shop, guiding her feet to the hat on the other side of the store. Draco followed, stern faced.

There were a lot of different colors to choose from. The white one with the pom pom on top… the red one with ear flaps… the plain purple cap. Clara grabbed the white hat and stuck it on top of her soft curls.

"You're going to get that dreadful thing?" Draco commented almost immediately. Clara's jaw dropped open.

"I don't think its dreadful at all!" She argued. "Here, just to spite you, this is the one I choose to get." The small witch folded her arms defiantly. Draco's lips twitched again.

"I won't let my money go to pot and penny!"

"Draco!"

In the end it was just a jest. Clara walked out of the shop happily, white pom pom cap stuck over her head and a similar pink one in a bag Draco was currently holding. They stood on the snowy corner of the avenue.

"What now?" Clara asked hesitantly. She hoped he didn't make her go back to that awful manor. Not that it was technically awful; it was just incredibly boring. He dug his hands deep into his coat pocket.

"I know a place."

Café de la Paix** was not quite a café in the traditional sense of the word. But is there such a thing in Paris? The café was gold; the ceiling artwork and carved pillars gave the ambiance of eating with royalty. Clara marveled; French architect never ceased to amaze her.

"This is beautiful."

"Combien?" How many? The host asked.

"Deux."

He took them to a table in the middle of the room. Draco leaned in and whispered something Clara could not hear into the other man's ear. The host nodded and guided them to another table. This one was in the far corner and next to a window. Much more private. They sat down.

"What brought you here?" Clara asked Draco once the waiter had left. He shrugged, very interested in the menu.

"I've always wanted to eat here. We're very close to a wizarding community."

"How did you find me?" She asked after a pause.

"You're not as sneaky as you think you are." He smirked behind the menu. Clara looked out the window in a huff.

"Where did you learn to speak French so well?" Clara questioned a few minutes later. She took the glass of water in front of her and preceded to sip from it.

"I lived here for a few years." He said simply. Clara was impressed.

"You lived here? What about school? What about friends…"

He looked up from his menu, trademark smirk on his face. "There aren't any schools in the wizarding world like those muggle institutions. Besides, I knew I'd be going to Hogwarts before I could even form words." He looked down at the menu again, smirk suddenly gone. "As for friends, you know Zabini."

Clara stared at the boy's blond head. Was the only friend Draco had her annoying cousin?

"That annoying git?" Clara ended up blurting. "I don't know how you can stand him." Draco looked up surprised.

"He's been there, annoying git or not." This time Draco's mouth formed into a small smile, putting Clara's stomach into a weird series of flips.

Before anything more could be said, the waiter arrived and took their orders. Draco seemed to already know what he wanted, and so Clara requested the same thing, having not even glanced at the menu. After that, only simple conversation was made (they could not talk about the possible whereabouts of their parents – that was too risky) but was efficient in passing the time. It wasn't before long that both were done with their (slightly on the expensive side) meals and with the check in hand.

Draco had just stuffed some bills into the book when a chocolaty desert descended upon them.

"Sur la maison, au jeune couple." On the house, to the young couple. Their waiter told them. He jestured to the ring on Clara's finger. She released a breath from the initial stress at the possibility of having received another's desert and tried to giggle.

"Vhen is ze wedding?" The garçon asked in the couple's native tongue. Clara ran her memory.

"Er…"

"The Spring." Draco chided in. Clara laughed a little nervously.

"Ah, le printemps. A wonderful time. May you have ze best moments." Clara felt like the waiter had been trying to say something else as he bowed himself out of their company, but another thought was clouding her mind. The Spring. Another unattached memo.

"Is it really happening in the Spring?" Clara asked quietly.

"Yes." The air was stiff between them now, not that it had been very free before. Draco could sense Clara's frustration and hurt. His Slytherin instinct told him to kick her while she was down, but the rational side of him, the humane one, needed to fix it.

"C'mon. I'm going to show you the Avenue des Champs-Elysees like you've never seen it before." He threw his napkin onto the table while standing out of his chair. He offered Clara an arm. She only had an inkling of an idea that he was trying to divert her sad moment to the city she loved. The thought that Draco Malfoy was trying to comfort her sent unaccustomed warmth through her body and compelled Clara to accept the arm he held before her.

"Alright."

Down the Avenue des Champs-Elysees the sun was shining as people milled about. Clara could not stop gazing into the display windows of the couture stores with a certain awe. Though fashion was not her thing, the mannequins sure did have an appeal to them. Finally they approached Louis Vuitton. In the window was their signature luxury bag in various colors, the LV logo tattooed across its leathery surface. Clara stopped walking.

"Don't you already own a million of those bags?" Draco asked on noticing her line of vision. Clara stuck her chin out.

"No, I only have the carry-on."

"Then what the bloody hell have I been lugging around…" Draco muttered under his breath.

"That would be my Kenneth Cole and Coach. But Louis Vuitton…" In truth, Clara's luggage consisted of a number of different brands altogether and of which she did not carry all the time. In fact, she did own more than a mere carry-on by Louis Vuitton, but a girl in desperate need of fine luggage does not reveal that sort of information.

In the final moments of their genial bickering, Clara and Draco did not notice the wide street clear so ominously. They did not notice, either, the short figure strutting towards them, garbed in black. It was only in the last second, when she was upon them, that they realized what was happening. They had no time to grab for their wands.

"We've been looking for you." Bellatrix Lestrange told them before grabbing their shoulders and apparating away.

*Chateau de Villete is a real mansion in France. You can google pictures of it to get an idea of what it looks like.

**Cafe de la Paix is also a real cafe in Paris, which you can google.

What d'you think?

I'm sorry this took so long, I went kinda fast in the end. Please let me know what you thought of it. This, again, was hard for me to write because I'm trying to show a new side of Draco, and he's kind of a hard nut to crack.

The fluff here will not be the last of it. The next chapter probably won't have so much, but the one after that definitely should and then, eventually, there will be much more than that… but that's all I can say for that at the moment.

A big, wopping THANK YOU to all of my reviewers: I really love and appreciate every single one of your comments.

Until next time!