Title: The Perfect Wife
Author: slytherin-nette
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters you recognize from the HP books in this story. All I own is the plot. Everything else belongs to JK Rowling. She rocks.
Pairings: DM/femHP, RW/LrM, BZ/HG, SB/RV, BM/??, AM/?? and many others.
Warnings: This is a Post-Hogwarts story so it will be slightly more mature than TPG but equally insane. Wahaha. Also, this story contains PREGNANCY, RATED scenes and SLASH relationships.
A/N: Sorry this update took awhile…I've been having a bit of a problem with writer's block lately. Sigh. Anyway… I know I said I'd update Phoenix Tears before I updated this but I couldn't help myself. This story is clamoring to be finished. I have a feeling you guys will kill me though. Oh well. T_T
Chapter 15 – Gravity
Nothing else was heard in the St. Mungo's hospital room that night except for the sound of Hermione's violent sobbing. The former Head Girl had been crying continuously into Harry's arms for the past hour since all of their other friends had arrived. They now sat silently around random areas of Blaise's hospital room and were watching him being tended to by Severus Snape.
Harry, Ron, Lorraine and Anton sat in a circle around Hermione somewhere near the front of the room while Draco, Pansy and the rest of Blaise's immediate friends and family were gathered around the other side near the corner. They whispered amongst themselves as they continued to watch Severus pouring more vitality potion into the flask floating above Blaise's form.
The handsome Zabini Head looked nothing like the last time Harry had seen him.
Blaise's skin had turned a deathly pale color and several bruises had begun to form around his body. His dark hair lay mused up on his head – some strands of which fell into his eyes. His body looked surprisingly frail and the former Slytherin looked as though he was having difficulty breathing as he tried to sleep, his chest rising unevenly with his ragged, shallow breaths.
The Italian Head had been conscious when Harry had arrived in the hospital room that night – followed shortly by Draco soon after. Neither Draco nor Harry addressed one another since they had gotten there, choosing instead to remain within separate areas of the room.
For the last half hour, Blaise had been doing nothing else but trying to whisper comforting words to his crying wife who was, unfortunately, not comforted by this at all. Instead, his weak efforts at attempting to smile and whisper to her had accomplished nothing but make Hermione cry even more. Eventually, Severus had intervened and had asked Hermione – as well as everyone else – to step out of the hospital room so he could properly spell Blaise unconscious to give him more potion.
By the time everyone had been allowed back into the room, Blaise had already fallen fast asleep. From that point onward, Harry had then been busy with trying to calm Hermione down while at the same time, trying to deal with the occasional Ministry officials or Unspeakable agents who would rush into the room to talk to her about the latest plague developments.
From the moment they had arrived in St. Mungo's, Draco, Ron, Anton and any other male purebloods had been given a protective face mask and had also been spelled several protection charms for anti-infection against the disease. They had also been advised against getting to close to any of the afflicted purebloods and so kept at a relatively safer distance from the hospital bed.
Letting the rest of her inner musings trail off in thought, Harry turned her face and stared intently at Blaise's sleeping form again Blaise was talking to a strange woman before he collapsed tonight…Who the hell was she and why haven't I been informed of this sooner? She thought to herself, Byron's previous words of the disease being perpetuated plaguing her mind.
Could Byron actually be right about this whole thing? If he is and this disease is perpetuated…Then our whole approach to this magical plague was entirely wrong from the very beginning. She added as an afterthought, stroking her chin in deep silence.
Cradled in her arms, she felt Hermione shift slightly and sniff again – causing Harry to tighten her arms automatically around her frail form. She reached over and offered the brunette another clean tissue from the box beside them, to which Hermione responded to by giving her a weak smile and nod.
Beside them, Ron also sighed and raised a hand to stroke Hermione's tangled mane of brown hair. Within a couple more minutes, Ginny had arrived and once Harry had managed to transfer Hermione carefully into the redheaded woman's arms, she stood up and walked over to Nicholas across the room. The Head Officer was conversing with Draco and Anton near the entrance but when he saw her approaching them, he looked up right away and offered her a brief nod.
Harry nodded back and lowered her voice to soft whisper. "The woman Blaise was talking to before he went into seizure…Who was she? Do we have a record of her identity?" She asked curtly, watching as Nicholas blinked up at her in surprised query. He nodded, however, and looked down briefly to read through some of the investigation reports compiled in his hands.
"I think so…Hold on, let me look for it." As Nicholas paused to rifle through his folders, an awkward silence fell upon the group. Suddenly falling silent at his wife's unexpected nearness, Draco immediately stiffened and turned around, striding away towards the opposite side of the room
Noticing Harry's stung expression, Anton looked awkwardly between her and Draco for several minutes before shrugging and walking off after his older cousin. As soon as she and Nicholas were left alone, Harry sighed to herself again and turned back around to listen to Nicholas' response.
"It says here that Zabini claimed that she was the daughter of one of their old family friends. Completely reliable and trustworthy from what he tells me so we've ruled out any chance of her being the cause of any sabotage or poisoning. We spoke to her minutes before Blaise was admitted into the emergency room. She was also crying and looked genuinely concerned about his condition." Nicholas' words didn't seem to quell Harry's suspicion, however, but strengthened it even more.
She fell silent for several moments and stroked her chin in thought again. "I don't know, Nicholas…Something doesn't feel right. I'm beginning to think Byron was right after all about this disease being perpetuated…It all just doesn't seem to add up. I think there's more to this…" She murmured more to herself than to anyone else, causing Nicholas' eyebrows to rise up in surprise.
"So what do you intend for us to do…?"
Harry's eyes narrowed and she bit her lip, flicking her eyes back up to stare intently at Blaise's sleeping form. "How long does Blaise have until he falls into comatose…?" She ignored the curious looks she was receiving from Ron and Ginny and leaned in closer to Nicholas to avoid being heard.
Nicholas raised a suspicious eyebrow at her but answered. "We can't be entirely sure… About two to three days…Give or take a few. Why? What do you intend to do?" He watched as Harry fused her eyebrows and rifled carefully through the investigation records balanced in Nicholas' arms.
"I want you to talk to that woman again…Whatever her name was. Family friend or not, something tells me there's more to this than meets the eye. Have Spencer talk to her but don't bother contacting her first. Just go to her house directly and ask her a few questions about what happened. Do it now." Nicholas nodded firmly at her words and walked out of the room to find Spencer.
As soon as he had left the room, Harry inadvertently looked back up and stared at Draco again – watching sadly as her husband merely continued to ignore her very presence altogether. The Malfoy Head was currently locked in a muffled conversation with Severus, the latter of which was now gathering his potion ingredients back into its case and readying himself to head out of the room.
After the Potions Master left, Draco finally looked back up and met her eyes. Steely silver penetrated into emerald green and for the briefest moment, Harry thought she had only imagined the brief look of regret darken his eyes. It was gone as quickly as she had seen it, however, and the gray orbs hardened again. He sneered spitefully at her, shaking his head and looking away in disgust.
Harry felt like screaming at him but she held herself back, raising a hand and massaging her aching temples in exhaustion. She was just about to walk back over to where Hermione was seated when the doors to the private hospital room blasted open – revealing Byron's heavily flushed face.
The metamorphagus was panting heavily for breath and stopped just in front of her, his unexpected arrival drawing the immediate attention of just about everyone in the room. Seeing the urgency in his golden brown eyes, Harry walked hesitantly over to him and offered him some water.
"Byron…You look exhausted. What happened…?"
He took the glass of water from her hand and took a long sip before he answered, pulling her aside to the far, isolated corner of the room. "Harry…I—I have to talk to you about something important." He hissed, his eyes darting around from side to side to make sure no one heard them.
Once he had ascertained that they were safe from prying eyes and ears, he finally turned to face her again – his rushed voice coming out in a low and ominous tone. "I think I may have figured out what Vincent discovered." He began, taking another inhale of breath in an effort to clear his voice.
Harry's eyes widened at his words but she forced herself to remain silent, flicking her eyes back over to Hermione to make sure her best friend couldn't hear them. When Byron spoke again, however, his voice suddenly became slightly hesitant and uncertain.
"You remember that message on Vincent's palm?"
Harry merely gave him a perplexed look but nodded either way to urge him to continue.
"Well…I don't think it wasn't a dying message or clue or whatever we thought it was." He reached for something buried in his robe pockets and handed it to her. "It was a REFERENCE NUMBER." He waited until Harry took the paper in his offered hands before he continued speaking.
"You know how Vincent is always writing random stuff down onto the palm of his hand whenever he wanted to make sure he remembered something? I actually found it a bit annoying on several occasions since whenever he'd touch me, he'd manage to smudge the ink on my skin—" He stopped when Harry cringed and held a hand up to silence him, shaking her head in awkward dismay.
"Back to the main subject please, Byron."
Byron cringed in embarrassment and offered her a slightly sheepish smile. "Right…Ahaha…Anyway. Uhm…It's basically the same case. He probably wrote it down onto the palm of his hand while researching that day. I saw THAT ripped out page from a book on the floor of the CISO archives library that day. I figured it was part of what Vincent was searching for." He watched again as Harry peered down at the torn piece of parchment in her hands.
Her eyebrows furrowed in surprise when she read its contents, however, and she glanced back up at him – her eyebrows fusing together in a mixture of confusion and suspicion.
"…Magical Infusions?!"
At her words, Hermione suddenly shot up from her seat behind them but Harry barely noticed, her attention focused solely on Byron's grim face. The dark-haired metamorphagus nodded silently at her query, taking the parchment from her hands again and holding it up into the light.
"It's an ancient Wizarding myth, Harry. The Ceremony of Magical Infusions. It's the PERFECT explanation to everything that's been happening lately! Don't you see?!" He shook the paper in his hands and gesticulated madly to the string of Latin words scribbled on it. "This plague is not just some magical disease, Harry…It's a bloody SCAM! This proves it!" Byron had exclaimed louder than he had intended and Harry winced again, glaring at him and indicating for him to quiet down.
When they had made sure that no one had heard them, she finally turned around and addressed him again. "Byron, that's…That's just CRAZY! You can't honestly believe that someone who attempt to perform this again in our day and age? It says here that the ceremony of Magical Infusions hasn't been performed for CENTURIES! You'd need to collect—" She cut herself off midsentence and paled in sudden realization, her eyes widening as she snatched the parchment from him again.
Byron grinned widely in triumph and finished the rest of her sentence for her. "—samples of the PUREST and the most POTENT magical blood. Untainted by ANY muggle or creature blood whatsoever…Just like all of the pureblooded victims had thus far." He studied the look of stunned dismay on Harry's face, watching as his cousin-in-law's eyes seemed to widen even more in horror.
He was just about to speak again when a soft, feminine voice suddenly interrupted them out of nowhere—causing both Unspeakable agents to whirl around in surprise. "The Ceremony of Magical Infusions is not a myth, Byron. That's what the CISO department discovered just two years ago during a particular research I participated in… We discovered proof of it actually being performed."
At Hermione's grim voice, Harry and Byron stared intently at her – their faces caught in an identical look of stunned realization. Regardless of their facial expressions, Hermione approached them anyway, stopping in front of them and allowing them to see the haunted look in her swollen eyes.
She took the wrinkled parchment from Harry's hand and skimmed it for a couple of seconds. "You probably don't remember it then, Harry…But this was what I was telling you about two years ago while we were in the Ministry elevators. You weren't listening to me were you?" She shot her a weak glare, causing Harry to wince to herself, shrug and offer her a sheepish, apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry, Mione…You just sounded so boring—"
"ANYWAY—" Hermione shot her best friend another dirty look before she continued, causing the Malfoy Mistress to wince sheepishly again.
"—We confirmed that the ceremony had actually been performed when we managed to dig up a couple of those weird underground ceremonial grounds in Egypt. Those were actually the underground sites we had instructed the Unspeakable Department to investigate before…Remember?"
Harry and Byron's eyes widened in sudden understanding at this but Hermione continued. "We just never explained what they were because the research operation was strictly confidential. Restricted ONLY to CISO officers." She told them, handing the parchment back to Harry in silence.
When Harry took it from her hands, her green eyes narrowed in realization and she shot Hermione an angry look. "You mean you sent us out there without telling us ANYTHING about what the hell we were doing?! Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been for us?! Did any of you even consider the risks involved in such a stupid operation?!" She snapped and if anything, the outrage in Harry's voice caused Hermione to color and shrink away in embarrassed guilt.
"I—it wasn't my decision, Harry. It had been an order from my direct superior and I couldn't go against it…Besides…When we had issued the order, I had NO idea that it would be YOU they'd send out there." Her voice shook slightly as she answered and Harry would have snapped at her again had Byron not placed a restraining hand on her shoulder, giving both women a quelling glance.
"Never mind that now, Harry… Back to the more important issue at hand here. What was it that Vincent was researching before he was attacked? What did he find out that night? Do you know?" When Hermione nodded hesitantly at his question, Byron's eyes narrowed and he spoke again.
"…I saw this parchment lying on the floor of the CISO archives. I tried looking for archive number 513 but I couldn't find anything. Do you know where it is, Hermione?" Again, Hermione nodded meekly in response – causing Harry's eyes to flash in indignant anger again.
Before she could stop herself, she clenched her hands tightly into fists and exploded at the other woman in a fit of contemptuous fury. "WHY THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU CISO PRICKS HIDE THIS FROM US ALL THIS TIME?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH TIME YOU FORCED US ALL TO WASTE TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT THE FUCK WAS CAUSING THIS GODDAMN PLAGUE?!"
Hermione winced at the harsh anger in Harry's voice and took a shaky step back, her brown eyes tearing slightly in meek apology. "I—I'm sorry, Harry! We were all forbidden to say anything about it. B—besides… We don't even know much about Magical Infusions or what it did to the victims sacrificed! All the information we knew about it was the actual ceremony itself! U—up until now, we all really did just think that this plague had been nothing but a magical disease!" Her voice broke at the end of her sentence and she shrank back again at the fury in Harry's narrowed eyes.
Sighing and massaging his temples in horrified realization, Byron looked up and silenced another one of Harry's outbursts with another quelling glare. "It's not your fault, Hermione…None of us could have predicted this. Go on…Where can we find archive number 513? Please tell us."
Hermione hesitated again when she saw the angry glare Harry was giving her but nodded slowly, reaching into her robe pockets and pulling out a small, red card. "It's in the restricted section of the CISO archives library. Access is strictly authorized only to CISO officers…You may be able to get in if you give them my card, Harry." She meekly handed the red card to Harry in silence.
Harry continued to glare at her but took it reluctantly and placed it into the pocket of her robes. Reading through the ripped out piece of paper again, her eyebrows fused together and she voiced the growing question in her head. "Tell me exactly what you know, Hermione. What are Magical Infusions how exactly do they work? I want you to tell me everything."
She looked up and stared intently at the brown-haired woman, waiting impatiently for her to answer. After glancing once around the room to make sure no one else was listening to their conversation, Hermione sighed and turned back around to meet Harry and Byron's grim expressions.
"I—I don't exactly know much about it either, Harry but from what I read…It was a Dark and Ancient Wizarding tradition that was banned in the 1600s because of the amount of death it caused."
She paused for a moment, looking up and meeting Harry's bright green eyes. "I—it was especially used by Dark Wizards back then who wanted to gain more magical power to defeat their enemies. They collected the pure blood of other wizards and performed an ancient ceremony that eventually harnessed these wizards' magical potency and drained them of all their power altogether."
Harry and Byron both paled in horror at this but Hermione forced herself to continue speaking.
"Eventually…After having amassed enough power, those wizards whose blood was used in the ceremony would die and all their magic would be successfully transferred and preserved into a magical artifact…A jewel…A chalice…Any magical object they wanted. And from here, a person could draw upon these powers as his own magic. S—somewhat like an artificial source of magic if you will…" Hermione's voice trembled slightly as she said this, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at her husband.
"I—I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I—I don't even know much about it! Th—the rest is in the archive…You'll have to look for it yourselves. I—I can't leave Blaise…" Her voice faded and she turned to face Harry again, all the remaining color in her cheeks fading in growing fear and suspicion. "If this is really an attempt at performing magical infusion… I—if it is…What are we going to do, Harry?"
Harry refused to answer her and turned to look at Byron again, narrowing her eyes at him in question. "If this IS the case and some sick bastard IS trying to perform this ancient ceremony again…Why attack just the male purebloods? Why not attack any of the women?" Byron AND Hermione both shook their heads at her, the former of which answering her question.
"Blood is much more concentrated and potent in MALE purebloods, Harry. It's because men don't experience any of the fluctuation or magical imbalances women experience during pregnancy. Their magic remains pure and untainted." Byron explained and Harry nodded slowly in understanding.
She still wasn't fully convinced, however, and shook her head at them again. "B—but…Then what about the case of that pureblooded Japanese Witch you met two years ago? She had the same symptoms as everyone else but SHE wasn't a male. Why was SHE attacked?" Again, it was Byron who answered her question and his voice sound even more convinced as he spoke.
"She was the ONLY one of the victims who didn't fall into comatose, Harry. I'd like to believe that whoever this bastard is…He experimented some of this on several people outside of Europe first before he began his attack. It didn't work on the woman so that's when he must have discovered that he could only attack pureblooded MALES." He answered again, running a hand through his hair.
When Harry didn't answer him, he looked up again and offered her a weak grin. "Well we know ONE thing…We know this bastard is in Europe. All of the victims of the plague so far are all from Europe. The important question now is who the hell is next?" Harry heard his words but they seemed to fall upon deaf ears, her attention focused solely on the familiar feeling of foreboding in her chest.
Turning to Hermione again, she arched an eyebrow and voiced another important question that was forming in her head. "Hermione…To be able to properly perform a Magical Infusion Ceremony… How many pureblooded males does one need to sacrifice?" The question sent a shiver down Hermione's spine but she answered anyway, her voice falling into a shaky whisper.
"U—uhm…L—let's see…A witch or wizard could only perform the ceremony once every leap year and generally…I think the number of purebloods needed varies. It depends on how strong the person performing the ceremony wanted the magic source to be." Hermione paused and swallowed the forming lump in her throat, her weary features creasing into a dark frown.
"G—generally, though…Like the leap years…The required number of purebloods fell into powers of FOUR. 16…64…In fact, some of the sickest wizards in those times even performed ceremonies that sacrificed 264 purebloods in those days—" The rest of Hermione's sentence was cut off when Harry turned sharply to Byron again and gave him a sharp look.
"Byron…How many purebloods have been admitted into St. Mungo's so far because of the disease?" Harry's heart pounded rapidly in her chest as she watched Byron peer intently at the folders in his hands. His eyes darkened as he looked back up and answered her in a hoarse, shaky whisper.
"Including Blaise tonight…Sixty three."
Harry just stared blankly at him. At the back of her neck, she felt a familiar prickly feeling plaguing her senses. It didn't take long for Byron to look up and meet her eyes and within their expressions alone, they exchanged the same thoughts that seemed to be running through their head.
Sixty three…Sixty three male purebloods down…This year's a leap year…If this bastard aims for sixty four, only one more is needed…We have to stop this as fast as possible. She opened her mouth to tell him this but even before she could say anything, the doors behind them blasted open again and Nicholas flew in – startling all three of them with his panicked expression.
A couple more Unspeakable agents followed in after the Head Officer and gathered around them. At their sudden entry, they received a couple of indignant glares from most of Blaise's family friends gathered inside – including Draco and the other purebloods who glared at them in annoyance.
Nicholas ignored this, however, and grabbed Harry by her shoulders. "Harry! I have to tell you something important right now!" He didn't bother waiting for her to answer and grabbed her by her arms, pulling her towards the side of the room near the door. Once they had gotten away from everyone else and Byron had ushered Hermione back towards Blaise's bed, the rest of the Unspeakable Agents also gathered around them and huddled together in a tight circle.
It was Nicholas who spoke first and he addressed his urgent voice mostly to Harry. "Spencer contacted us about five minutes ago…He's on his way back here. He said that he just spoke with the woman Blaise had been talking to when he collapsed…" His voice fell into an eerie whisper.
"Something's wrong, Harry… She said she hasn't talked to Blaise AT ALL this entire week. Spencer scanned her memory…She wasn't lying. She really hasn't had any contact with Blaise at all. That means—" Harry cut him off abruptly and finished the rest of his sentence for him.
"—it MEANS…Someone must have been with Blaise tonight in the guise of someone else." She met Byron's eyes, nodding to the other Malfoy in growing realization. "You were right all along; Byron…This disease IS perpetuated. I don't understand how yet but now we know for sure…"
Byron nodded silently in agreement, his eyebrows fused together in thought. The rest of the Unspeakable agents around them looked back and forth from him to Harry several times, waiting for any further instructions. After another moment of silence, Byron finally spoke up again.
"Harry…I think we need someone to go the CISO department right now to look for archive number 513. I'll go and report to the Minister in the meantime about this latest development—"
Harry nodded in understanding. "Affirmative. I—I'll head over there right now…The rest of you remain with Nicholas right here and coordinate with the Aurors for further investigations. Nicholas, please inform Kingsley of what we've discovered and confirm if the same case applies to the other purebloods the night they collapsed. I'll leave you in charge of the other Aurors that arrive later." Nicholas took note of her words and nodded briskly, turning to leave the room.
As soon as the other Unspeakables had scattered off in separate directions, Harry turned to face her friends again. She was just about to head on out of the room when she stopped, her eyes inadvertently locking onto a familiar pair of bright, mercury orbs. Draco had been conversing softly with Pansy across the room when he had looked up at her, inadvertently meeting her eyes.
Harry blinked and stared blankly at him – unable to do or say anything else. After several moments of staring intently at each other's tense facial expressions, Draco finally sneered at her. He shook his head and looked away – failing to see the crestfallen look on her face at his reaction.
Sighing, Harry looked away and addressed the other remaining occupants of the room with one last smile and nod. After she had done all this, she finally turned back around and met Byron's expectant look with a firm nod of affirmation. "I'm heading to the archives library so I'll talk to you tomorrow night. Until then, inform me about any important finds you come across. Be safe, Byron."
"Waiting for me, love…?"
Halfway drunk and just about ready to leave the MMC Charity Ball that next night altogether, a slightly dazed Draco blinked and looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. He squinted several times and soon found himself staring into the smiling, beautiful face of his wife in front of him – who at that very moment had approached him near the end of the open bar of the MMC ballroom.
Looking up at her and resting his gaze on her approaching form, Draco noted with a hint of bitterness that Jaimee looked nothing less than stunning that night – decked out completely in a delicate black silk evening dress that wrapped snugly around her body. The dress flowed gracefully into a skirt just above her knees, exposing her long legs and the expensive sandals on her feet.
Draco took one look at her appearance and managed a mocking sneer, shaking his head at her in contempt. "What are YOU doing here, Potter? Finally remembered you were a WIFE?" He drawled sarcastically, ignoring her cringe as he took another sip from the glass of vodka in his hand.
He gestured to the bartender behind him for another glass of liquor before turning back and giving her another mocking smile, arching a single eyebrow expectantly at her uncertain expression. "Well? Speak up, Potter…From what I gathered in the hospital room last night…You and Byron were supposed to be researching in the CISO library all night. What are you doing here?"
Harry hesitated for a couple of seconds before taking another tentative step toward him, quirking the corner of her lips into a small, teasing smile when she heard the soft, jazz music beginning to play in the background. "Oh come on, Draco…Don't be like that. I actually went home early tonight to see you…Your mother told me you'd be here at the MMC charity ball so I came here as quickly as I could." She said with a seductive smile, reaching up to clasp her hands around his neck.
Draco stiffened immediately at this and attempted to shove her off, his eyes darting around the crowd of watching guests that were gathered around the ballroom. "Harry, what are you doing?! There are hundreds of guests in here, don't make a scene again." He hissed angrily at her, unclasping the hands she had wrapped around his neck and flinging them back at her in annoyance.
She pouted slightly at this and glared at him, settling down onto the bar stool beside him instead. "Oh come on, Draco…It's been so LONG since we've had some alone time to ourselves these days…" Her voice trailed off suggestively. She crossed one of her legs primly over another, purposely drawing her husband's gaze down to rest on her pale thighs as exposed by her short skirt.
Harry saw his reaction instantly and hid a knowing smirk, adjusting her sitting position a bit more so that more of her legs were laid out for her husband's hungry eyes. When Draco didn't say anything in response and merely continued to stare silently at her legs, she spoke again – speaking a little louder so as he could hear her above the loud murmurs and music of the party around them.
"I meant to get here sooner but I actually almost forgot that MMC had a charity ball tonight—" Draco cut her off by leering and shaking his head, downing the rest of his drink in a single gulp. When he looked back up, he placed his glass back onto the table and addressed her with a scoff.
"Oh don't worry about it, Harry. I'm quite used to you being late or forgetting things already at this point – including our anniversary last night which you STILL haven't even apologized for—"
He stopped talking when Jaimee reached over and placed a gentle single finger to his lips, effectively silencing the rest of Draco's properly-formed, sarcastic retort. His words immediately died on his lips and he glared at her, his eyes dripping with contempt and a scathing sneer on his face.
"What is this, Harry…? Are you trying to make up for everything that's happened NOW?! Things aren't that fucking easy anymore…Things…Change." His eyes darkened even more in disdain as she moved closer toward him and sighed, her beautiful features creasing into a small frown.
When Harry seemed unable to say anything else for those next few seconds, Draco finally rolled his eyes and attempted to push her away. "Forget this, Harry…It's too late now. Frankly, I don't have any more time for your apologies and I'm sick of all this altogether." As he turned to go, Jaimee finally surprised him by stepping forward and placing both her soft palms on either side of his face.
"Draco, wait…Listen—" Her actions halted his movements and caused Draco to stiffen in confusion, his hands going up to rest on her waist and his eyes widening in surprise.
"Harry, what—"
Jaimee smashed her lips insistently against his – drowning out the rest of his confused, rambling protests with a hard, passionate kiss. He stood shock still there for a couple of tense seconds, his entire body stubbornly refusing to cooperate with his thoughts. His mind had fallen into a complete blank at this point and all he could do was stand there in utter disbelief.
Undaunted by his lack of response, Jaimee continued to kiss him anyway – her arms going up to wrap around his neck. He felt another shiver of desire running down his spine when his wife let out a soft moan of pleasure against their intertwined lips – the familiar, delightful sound successfully causing all the remaining blood in Draco's head to surge south to his rapidly growing arousal.
Oh Merlin…Don't…Don't let her do this to you again, Malfoy! Don't!
Draco heard his own thoughts echoing in his head and he clenched his fists, desperately trying to turn his face away from hers. As soon as he managed to pull his lips away from her kiss, it took him several more minutes to compose himself long enough to whisper something angrily into her ear.
"You think…You think this makes everything okay, Potter?! Damn you…Damn you! I'm not your goddamn toy! Sex doesn't make the problem go away! I won't play this game with you!" He tried to twist himself away from her but she tightened her arms around him, pulling him closer against her.
"Draco, please. I know you're still angry with me, love…And I know thatthere seems to be so many problems in our marriage right now…But just stay with me…tonight. Please." She paused and looked up into his eyes again, her bright green eyes glinting brightly with unmistakable lust.
"I know what you need from me right now, love…What does every man need from his wife…? Let me give you what I know you want, Draco…" She sounded so smug as she said this that it brought a derisive sneer to Draco's face. His eyes narrowed and he glared spitefully at her in angry indignation.
"You think you know everything, don't you? You arrogant bitch—"
Jaimee giggled softly under her breath and rewarded him with a flirtatious smile, biting her lip coyly as she trailed a finger down the front of his chest. "Well…I'm right…Aren't I…?" She teased, leaning closer against him and making sure her breasts pressed up alluringly against his firm chest.
At the sound of her husband's breath hitching sharply into his throat, her smug smile widened and she whispered something into his ear again. "Come on, Draco…Tell me I'm wrong…Tell me you don't need me anymore…Tell me you don't want me anymore…Tell me…" Her voice fell into a husky, breathless drawl, causing Draco's entire frame to tense up even further in frustration.
With as much self-control as he could manage, he tried to twist himself away again – his eyes flicking up and darting desperately around the room in search of an exit. "STOP IT, Harry…This is NOT what I want! I don't want THIS! I want you t—to…BE THERE…To be a mother for our kids…To be my best friend again…To be my goddamn WIFE! NOT THIS!" His voice broke off when her hands began tracing seductive circles along his chest, her fingernails grazing teasingly along his shirt.
Jaimee looked highly amused at his words, her eyes gleaming maliciously with unmistakable triumph. "You sound like a woman, Draco…Are you honestly telling me that you don't want to do this tonight—" She bent down and began planting a line of searing kisses along his jaw, immediately causing Draco to swallow the forming lump in his throat and weakly try to turn away again.
"Fuck you—"
She giggled again and gave him another kiss along the base of his neck. "That's kind ofthe idea; darling…I know you want it. No matter how mad you are at me…I know that there's no one else who could satisfy you like I could…Isn't that right, baby…? Tell me you want me...I know you do."
Draco felt an overwhelming mixture of lust and unmistakable anger seeping into his chest.
"You know what…?! Fuck you! I am NOT your toy, Harry. I'm not some useless, pathetic sap of a husband who waits HOURS for you at some godforsaken restaurant the entire night and then just falls all over himself for you whenever you want a good lay! Screw this marriage! I'm going home!"
He tried to push her away and leave but Jaimee ignored him, deliberately taking the hands he had placed on her waist and moving them down so that they rested suggestively on the curve of her rounded bottom. Again, Draco felt his body's immediate reaction to her body and he took a step away from her, gritting his teeth in frustration as he tried to control his traitorous hormones.
His sex-starved body had already been sending him all sorts of mixed signals for the past ten minutes since she had approached him – screaming profanely at him and telling him to just take her upstairs and screw her senseless in the company's penthouse. His stubborn pride had refused to let him, however, and continued to keep him completely still despite the raging lust plaguing his senses.
Unfortunately, Jaimee seemed to realize the internal struggle Draco was having himself and smirked again; taking the empty glass of vodka from his hand and setting it back down onto the bar behind them. When she looked back up to face him, she winked and gave him a suggestive smile.
"MMC has a private penthouse upstairs, right…? How about it, Draco…? How long has it been now…? More than 2 months…? I know you, darling…Don't deny me anymore. Let's take this upstairs."
Draco clenched his jaw in stubborn denial but Jaimee could easily see that he was beginning to cave in – especially since his stormy eyes had already darkened into a predatory, steely gray. "You left me waiting like a fool at that restaurant last night. Do you have any idea how humiliating—"
Jaimee scoffed, shaking her head and resting her hands back seductively onto his shoulders. "—that doesn't matter NOW, does it? You can deny that all you want…But no matter how angry you are…You still can't resist me." She leaned in closer and licked the outer shell of his ear, chuckling under her breath when she felt a shiver of arousal wracking through his entire frame.
"Don't tease me, Potter…You KNOW what happens when you do that."
She cringed in pain when one of his hands moved up and gripped her sharply by her arm, twisting her around roughly so that her back met his firm chest. His other hand snaked down and wrapped tightly around her waist – yanking her body backwards against him so that her arse pressed tightly against the hard, bulging arousal that had already formed between his legs.
Looking up once to make sure that the crowd of guests and other aristocratic wizards gathered in the ballroom around them couldn't see them, Draco let out one sharp cuss under his breath and ground his arousal once against her from behind – eliciting what would have been a very loudgasp of pain from his wife had he not leaned down hissed something dangerously into her ear.
"If you know what's good for you, Potter…You will keep quiet and listen to me."
His words came out harsh and angry. Without bothering for her to respond, he gripped her chin tightly and forced her to look at him over her shoulder so she could see the fire blazing in his gray eyes. "Now let me make one thing perfectly CLEAR about what's going to happen tonight…"
Jaimee met his angry gaze easily and returned his hissed words with a seductive, teasing smirk – her green eyes glowing strangely with an eerie glint that he didn't quite recognize.
"This changes NOTHING between us."
Her smirk widened at Draco's words and she turned around to press herself closer against his chest, sliding her arms up to lock around his neck. Without warning, she pressed her lips firmly against his again, her body shivering delightfully when one of his hands slid up higher along her skirt.
The last thing Draco managed to see before he practically carried Jaimee impatiently out of the guest-filled MMC ballroom in his sexual agitation was Anton and Reggie's surprised gazes following them out – the younger Malfoy sons' facial expressions one of genuine confusion and uncertainty.
BRRRRRRRINNNG! BRRRRRRIIIIINNNNG! BRRRRRRIIIIINNNNG!
Skulking around in the middle of the dark CISO archives library around the same time that night, a highly irritated Jaimee grunted and looked up from the humongous pile of dusty textbooks and parchments that lay scattered along the floor around her. Scowling and grumbling under her breath in annoyance, she stumbled out from within the dusty, sooty heap of books and clambered along the floor for her muggle cellphone – her hands frantically patting along the carpet.
"Ugh…Where in Merlin's name is that…Bugger…Is it here—Ah!" She snatched the ringing cellphone up and sat up straighter, flicking the muggle device open and holding it up against her ear.
"Yep? Byron, what do you want? I thought I told you I'd see you in a couple of hours—" She paused when she heard Byron's agitated voice blaring at her from the other line. Strangely enough, her cousin-in-law sounded irritated as he spoke to her, his words coming out in a low, angry growl.
"Harry, I thought I made it especially CLEAR that you were supposed to gather as much research as you could this entire day! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing over there?!"
Harry felt a surge of annoyance at his snappiness and hopped back up onto her feet, scowling and walking around the dark, deserted CISO library in impatience. "What are you on about now, Byron? I have been doing nothing since this MORNING but reading through archive 513 in this bloody library! I'm tired, I'm hungry and I haven't even gotten a decent night's SLEEP since I came here—"
She stopped when Byron cut her off again and practically exploded, his voice blaring loudly into her cellphone's earpiece. "Don't LIE to me, Harry! Anton just called me three minutes ago and told me that you and Draco just went up to the MMC penthouse! What are you doing wasting time?!"
Harry's eyebrows flew up in shocked confusion at this but Byron continued, his words ringing clearly in her ears with angry indignation. "Look! I understand that you and my cousin have been having problems lately with your marriage and all but this is hardly a time to fix that NOW, Harry! I promise that once we get things done, we'll both have time to sort our problems out—"
"What did you say?!"
Byron paused when he heard the suspicion in Harry's voice. The former Gryffindor had stopped right in front of one of the ancient mirrors near the front of the CISO library and stood staring intently at her own mirror image, her eyes peering intently into her reflection's worried, anxious frown.
When Byron seemed unable to say anything for the next couple of seconds, Harry spoke again – her voice coming out in a loud shout that was laced with a hint of frustration. "Byron, WHAT DID YOU SAY?! WHO saw me with Draco and WHERE?!" She heard him cursing under his breath on the other line, his voice suddenly growing heavy with haunted realization as he answered.
"You…aren't with Draco right now are you…? Where are you, Harry? Who's with you?"
Harry let out a growl of frustration and slammed her fist into one of the nearby library stalls in front of her. "NO, GODDAMN IT! I'm at the CISO library like I've always been for the last couple ofhours since this morning! I haven't left! What the bloody hell are you on about, Byron?!"
Byron seemed unable to say anything remotely coherent for the next couple of seconds after that. Harry began to hear him cursing frantically on the other line – his loud, angry shouts sounding heavily infused with a mixture of horrified realization and anger.
"OH FUCK! OH MY GOD, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! N—NO, IT CAN'T BE!"
Jaimee opened her mouth to ask him what he meant but Byron cut her off abruptly and began ranting furiously at her over the phone, his voice trembling with desperation and mortified urgency.
"Harry! Listen to me! You have to get to Draco right now. RIGHT NOW! Do you understand me?! GO! NOW! I don't have time to explain everything right now but—"
Harry's eyes widened and she nearly dropped the phone in her haste to get to the library exit, her hands already shaking when she heard the fear in her cousin-in-law's voice. "What?! What's going on, Byron?! I don't understand, where IS Draco?! Where do I find him?! Tell me what's happening—"
"He's at the MMC Charity Ball tonight! Anton said he just went up to the penthouse on the top floor! LISTEN TO ME, YOU HAVE TO GET THERE AS FAST AS YOU CAN! ARE YOU HEARING ME?!"
"WHY, BYRON?! I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON! FUCKING TELL ME! DID DRACO CATCH THE DISEASE?! IS HE OKAY?! WHAT AREN'T YOU TELLING ME?!"
Byron cursed again and practically screamed at her from the other line, his angry shouts ringing clearly and painfully against her ear. "LISTEN TO ME HARRY! YOU HAVE TO GET OVER THERE RIGHT NOW! I'M IN FRANCE AND I'LL TRY TO GET THERE AS FAST AS I CAN BUT DRACO—"
The rest of her cousin-in-law's frantic shouts were cut off brusquely when Jaimee collided with a rather tall, well-built figure in front of her – forcing the former Gryffindor to stop running altogether and wince in pain. Before she could realize what had happened, her muggle cellular phone had slipped from her hand and crashed listlessly onto the floor – causing her to let out a horrified gasp. She looked up, staring blankly into the handsome, apologetic grimace of one Maximillian Thornton.
"Wh—Wha—Max! What are you doing here?! I—I—my phone! Shit—"
Max immediately cringed at her words, ducking his head sheepishly behind his hand. "Oh bloody hell, Harry! What are you doing here at this hour? I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there and I was running and – I'm so sorry!" He bent down and scooped what remained of her cellphone back up from the floor, biting his lip in apology.
Harry snatched the phone from his hand and held it back up against her ear, cursing loudly to herself when all she was met with was a dead, broken silence. "Fuck! Phone's broken. I—I'm really sorry, Max! I can't really talk right now, I—I have to go! I—I'm sorry! I'll see you around! Take care!"
He opened his mouth to answer her but Harry was already running off towards the department exit before he could say anything, her rushed footsteps echoing loudly along the silent and deserted hallways. Just before she turned the corner and stormed out of the department office altogether, Max turned around and stared intently at her – a slow and eerie smirk already forming on his lips.
"Mmmm…. Oh Draco…"
His wife's soft, beautiful moans rang over and over again in Draco's ears and echoed loudly in the silent bedroom. He ground himself harder against her, his lean frame pinning her slender form down onto the large, king-sized bed of the luxurious MMC penthouse above his office. Her gasping voice reverberated so clearly in the large suite that night that Draco felt himself hardening even more, his hands plunging down and beginning to rip impatiently through the clothing of her gown.
"Too…Much…Fucking…Clothing…." He gave another incoherent growl and smashed his lips against hers again, sliding his tongue into her mouth and muffling the rest of her aching whimpers.
"Mmm…" She slid her arms around his neck and eventually slipped one of her hands underneath his button-down shirt, raking her fingernails along the smooth skin of his firm back.
He hissed at this and broke his lips away from hers, trailing it down lingeringly over the patch of creamy skin just below her neck. Her legs wrapped invitingly around his waist as he did this and this urged him to slide his hands up the smooth skin of her long legs – moving up along the inside of her thighs until they were tracing lingeringly along the lace edges of her silk underwear.
Now wait a minute…Silk underwear…What the bloody— Draco's eyebrows shot up and he pulled away to stare curiously at her, one of his eyebrows raising up higher than the other in mild suspicion. "Silk panties, Potter…? Since when did you wear those? I thought you didn't like them."
Harry looked up at him with a blank stare, her cheeks flushing slightly in realization.
When Draco continued to stare at her, she managed a dismissive chuckle and shook her head, reaching her hands back up and wrapping them around his neck. "I was just trying something new…I thought you might like them, darling…Wouldn't you rather be taking them off, though…?"
She didn't bother waiting for him to respond as she leaned up and caught his lips in another searing kiss – successfully making Draco forget all about his question altogether. Within a couple more moments, his hands were plundering her body again and his mouth was back to marking a trail of red bites along her neck – his lips coming to rest on the skin just above the neckline of her gown.
He felt her shivering violently when one of his hands had reached up and cupped possessively over her breast, his other one moving down and slipping back into the hemline of her skirt. As he trailed his hand upwards along her leg once more, he leaned down to bury his face against her neck – inhaling a whiff of her sweet, familiar scent and smirking when he felt her trembling in his arms.
The minute he did this, however, the smirk on his face immediately disappeared and in its place grew a small frown, his eyebrows fusing together in belated, disgusted realization. Blinking several times as though to confirm his suspicions, Draco resisted the urge to shudder and pulled away from her as though she had caught on fire, his eyes narrowing as he glared down at her face.
She smells…Different…?! Too much cheap perfume…! Who the— Draco stared intently into what appeared to be the familiar, beautiful face of his wife – his lingering gaze studying every single detail of her face. Jaimee just stared back up at him with a tense and wary expression creasing her features, her eyes widening in anticipation and a slow, uneasy snarl forming on her lips.
When he continued to stare apprehensively at her without saying anything Jaimee finally spoke up first – forcing out a soft laugh and reaching a hand up to cup his face. "What's wrong, darling…? Shall I top instead—" She smirked and tried to position herself over him but Draco stiffened immediately and shoved her away, his face immediately paling in mortified revulsion.
"….Who are you?!"
His face continued to turn several more shades ashen and he backed away from her, wiping angrily at his mouth. He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to jump off the bed and throw up in his disgust but instead, he settled for glaring at her, watching the smirk growing on her face.
"What…? What ever do you mean, darling…? It's me…Jaimee. I'm your wife…Remember?" She feigned a confused, offended expression but Draco was way past mere suspicion at that point. He sneered, grabbed his wand from the nearby bedside table and pointed it directly at her beautiful face.
"Aperio Verita!"
Jaimee's green eyes seemed to flash in panic when she heard the spell but even before she had a chance to react, a puff of smoke erupted from Draco's wand and surrounded her – obscuring her entire form from Draco's vision. Once the smoke had cleared and he could see clearly into her face, he nearly fell off the bed in shock. His wide silver eyes riveted upwards to focus sharply on the glaring, scowling face of the familiar blonde in front of him, his eyebrows arching upwards in mortified disbelief.
"…Natasha?!"
His personal secretary answered him with a very menacing sneer, one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows arching elegantly in amusement. "Mmm… My, my, Master Malfoy…I had no idea you were so rough in the bedroom. How does your wife deal with it? Is that why she won't sleep with you anymore?" She teased seductively, moving across the bed toward him again. Draco stiffened and shoved her away, reaching over to the bedside table and shrugging himself back into his jacket.
"This is BY FAR the lowest thing a woman has ever done to get my attention." He sneered at her over his shoulder and shook his head in disgust. When Natasha looked as though she was going to say something in response, he spoke again – his attention focused on re-clasping the buttons of his jacket. "Oh…And in case you didn't know already…You are FIRED, Richardson. Get the FUCK out!"
Natasha's flirtatious smile darkened instantly into a dangerous leer, her violet-tinted eyes glinting eerily in anger. "Oh…But Master Malfoy…We were having SO much fun. Wouldn't you much rather put my services into good use tonight? I'm very talented, you see…" As she said this, her voice shifted several levels in pitch and in confusion, Draco turned around to shout at her again – his eyes immediately growing as wide as saucers when he was met with Jaimee's face.
She smiled invitingly at him, leaning back down and laying her body onto the bed.
"Is this what you want, Sir…? Or perhaps something different—" In a single spontaneous flash of magic, her face and entire body transformed itself again and Draco found himself staring into Natasha's attractive features once more. At this, his gray eyes finally dawned in stunned realization.
"You're an unregistered…metamorph…?"
Instead of answering him, she giggled and shook out the long, blonde tresses of her hair. "I can be anything you want me to be, Master Malfoy…Who else would you like me to look like?"
Draco cringed in horrified disgust as he watched Natasha transform herself into several more familiar women within the span of a couple more split seconds –Jaimee, Hermione, Luna, Pansy, Daphne – before turning back to her original form and offering him another suggestive smile.
Fuming with anger, Draco answered her with a low growl and shoved her right off the bed. "You sick, disgusting bitch! How dare you?! I ought to have you arrested—"
Natasha didn't bother waiting for the rest of Draco's angry tirade to finish. The minute she managed to regain her balance, she turned back around and launched herself right at him – pinning him down onto the bed and muffling the rest of his words by smashing her lips insistently against his.
Draco's eyes immediately widened and he placed his hands onto her shoulders in an attempt to shove her off – all the while trying to voice out his protests through their intertwined lips.
"MMMPH…RICHARDSON! WHAT THE FUCK?! GET THE BLOODY HELL OFF OF ME—"
He stopped struggling when he heard the bedroom doors behind them creak open. Stiffening in anticipation, Natasha pulled away from where she was still straddling him on the bed and whirled around in surprise just in time to see a lone figure peer slowly into the room from behind the door.
As soon as Draco heard the soft, familiar gasp that followed this, however, he shoved Natasha off of him as hard as he could and quickly hopped back up to his feet in utter panic – his wide gray eyes flicking across the room and meeting his wife's stunned, slightly blurry green eyes.
"H—Harry?!"
He watched as she stared right back at him with a completely stunned, heartbroken expression on her beautiful face – her features slowly creasing into a pained grimace that seemed to coincide with the anguished tears that were beginning to flood her bright green eyes. Instead of answering him, she swallowed the painful lump in her throat and took a shaky step backwards, her slender fingers trembling as she slowly clasped her hands into tight, angry fists.
From where she had fallen onto the floor, Natasha scowled and stood back up – pouting and rubbing at the forming bump on her blonde head. When she saw the look of disbelieving betrayal on Harry's face across the room, however, her scowl was instantly replaced by a small, smug smile.
"Oh…Good evening, Mistress Malfoy…Master Malfoy and I weren't that aware you were going to come tonight…" She let her voice trail off suggestively after this and giggled, turning around and smiling seductively at Draco again. The former Slytherin seemed to pale further at Natasha's words and turned back to stare imploringly at Harry across the room, shaking his head furiously at her.
"Harry…You have to believe me. This is NOT what it looks like. Don't listen to this lying bitch. NOTHING happened, I SWEAR! You know I would NEVER—" He broke the rest of his own words off and made to walk toward her trembling form, raising his hands up at her in his helplessness.
Harry continued to stare blankly at him for a couple more tense minutes. The glistening in her eyes was more visible now and was already beginning to trail down her cheeks as harsh, bitter tears. As she stared into Draco's pleading expression, she felt a sense of anger beginning to flood her senses – her slim shoulders already beginning to wrack slightly in violent, barely-restrained sobs.
"I—I…I c—can't believe you…A—after everything you've been blaming me for…Y—you… Lying… Cheating…BASTARD! H—how dare you—"
Draco reached a hand out and tried to clasp her by the wrist but she shoved him rouhgly away, raising one of her hands and bringing it down hard across his face in a painful slap. The harsh, sharp sound echoed clearly in the silence of the bedroom and brought another smirk to Natasha's lips, causing the blonde to giggle softly to herself and plop back down onto the end of the bed.
Still reeling from the strong impact of her palm against his slowly reddening cheek, Draco snapped his face back up and tried to grab her again – clamping his hands down hard onto her shaking shoulders. In a growing fit of unstable emotions, Jaimee fought to hold back the sobs that were threatening to escape her and struggled wildly against his arms.
"LET ME GO, DRACO! YOU CHEATING SON OF A BITCH! I HATE YOU! LET ME GO!" She screamed at him and if anything, the cracking, feminine pitch of her shaking voice sent a sharp stab of pain right through Draco's chest. He tightened his grip on her shoulders and tried to peer down to meet her eyes, the expression on his handsome face one of calming, assertive reassurance.
"Harry…Please! NOTHING happened! I know how bad this all looks but you HAVE to believe me! Come on, you KNOW me! I would NEVER do something like this! I thought she was YOU! She's—"
She raised a hand again but this time – instead of slapping him across the face – she fisted her fingers and slammed her fist right into his jaw. The impressive force of her punch cut off Draco's words and eventually sent him stumbling backwards a few steps. He winced to himself and clutched at his aching jaw in pain, shaking his head and looking back up to stare at her again.
"Harry…Please…You have to believe me! TRUST ME, DAMN IT—!"
He failed to see any more of her reaction altogether as Jaimee had already whirled around and began storming out of the penthouse – the heavy heel of her boots thudding loudly against the polished, wooden floor. Draco cursed loudly and tried to chase after her but even before he got to the bedroom doors, Harry had whirled around again and let out a weak, broken sigh.
"I…I don't know about this marriage anymore, Draco…I think…We should get a divorce."
Nothing else except her last five words seemed to reverberate in Draco's head for those next few minutes. He barely even realized that Harry had already left the penthouse altogether – leaving him staring after her retreating back with an expression of heartbroken realization on his face.
D—d—divorce…? B—but…Th—that's…not possible…Not me…Not us…No…N—never…No…Not possible… Draco felt himself weakening when his knees began to give out from under him, forcing him to stumble back towards the bedroom and collapse exhaustedly onto the edge of the bed behind him.
Divorce is not an option for us, Harry…No… He was so caught up in his own overwhelming thoughts in that moment that he never even noticed that Natasha had crawled right back up behind him on the bed and wrapped her slim arms around his neck from behind. She bent her head down and leaned in closer to whisper something into his ear, resting her chin comfortably against his shoulder.
"…Hmm…Is your wife not staying, Mistress Malfoy…? Perhaps we could pick up where we left off…?" She nuzzled his neck teasingly and planted several kisses against his jaw but Draco barely heard her, his attention still focused on the doors Harry had slammed when she had walked out.
Why…D—divorce…? He winced when he heard the ugly word in his own head, his eyes dimming sadly in defeat. The hope he had been clinging to that night that his marriage would eventually come through was long gone now. At this point, Draco was pretty sure that he'd be lucky enough if he got a chance to even talk to his stubborn wife before she initiated the divorce herself.
Natasha seemed not to sense his lack of attention and continued talking, sliding her hands down even lower so that they were resting against his chest. "Master Malfoy…You know I have always been meaning to ask you…Your wife…She's one of the top Unspeakable Agents in the Ministry right…?"
She paused and waited for him to answer her, watching as Draco finally seemed to blink himself blearily out his thoughts long enough to look at her and shove her hands off his shoulders. When he deliberately refused to acknowledge her question altogether and merely began to walk back out the door in silence, she spoke up again – her smile transforming slowly into a triumphant smirk.
"I have to be rather honest…This makes things easier for me." She stood back up and slowly followed after him, twirling her wand idly along her long, perfectly manicured fingers. Draco continued to ignore her, however, and began to walk distractedly towards the penthouse exit doors.
"You're fired, Richardson. Get the fuck out of my sight—"
Natasha spoke on anyway. "…You see…Now that she's gone and out of the way, Master Malfoy…Do you what I'm capable of….?" She waited until Draco finally seemed to realize the full meaning of her question and whirled around, his eyebrows fusing together in instant suspicion.
"Excuse me…?!"
Her smile grew even more and she chuckled at his reaction, finally raising her wand up and pointing it directly at his face. "Do you know how the magical disease is transmitted, Master Malfoy…?"
Draco's snapped wide open in immediate alertness and he reached a hand into his robes for his wand, pointing it back at her in warning. "Y—YOU?! TRY IT, YOU BITCH AND I'LL—"
He stopped midsentence just as a grimace of pain crossed his face, followed by a burning stinging from the nape of his neck that was slowly beginning to spread all over his body. As he felt his legs giving out and his weakening form falling backwards against the floor, he managed to glance back upwards just before he fell – locking his mercury orbs with a pair of red-speckled brown eyes.
"Sweet dreams, Malfoy…"
How could he…? How the FUCK could he…?! Was THAT what Byron wanted me to see?!
Harry was barely aware of the crowd of watching guests that had turned to watch her racing out of the MMC ballroom that night in tears. She continued to push past them in rapidly growing desperation, her vision already thoroughly blurred and her entire body trembling with emotions.
She managed to bump into several of the older Malfoys and a couple of Draco's cousins along the way but she paid their concerned inquires no attention, fighting her way through the crowd of guests as fast as she possibly could. When she got to the very end of the ballroom just a couple of steps near the exit, she crashed right into another tall cloaked figure hurrying to get into the room – causing the both of them to wince and end up falling painfully backwards onto the ballroom floor.
When she looked back up, Jaimee let out an indignant curse and glared warningly at her offender – a stream of interesting insults already forming in her head. "You insensitive prick! Why don't you watch where you're going?! You could have seriously injured someone back there—"
She stopped immediately when she was met with a familiar pair of wide, golden brown eyes – the sight of which brought a feeling of irritated exasperation on her face.
"—BYRON! What the hell – what are you doing here?! What's the big idea?! If you're here about the fact that your bastard of a cousin has been CHEATING on me, I reckon a DISCREET way of telling me about it would have been much more considerate than this! I can't believe him—"
Byron silenced the rest of her tirade with a single shake of his head, reaching both his hands out and placing them firmly on her shoulders. "HARRY! Shut up! You have GOT to listen to me! I—it's HER! It's a woman! SHE'S been attacking the pureblood males…It's HER, Harry! It's HER!"
Picking herself up off the floor, Harry stared at him for several seconds in confusion. "B—but…I don't understand what you mean…? Who are you talking about and who is this woman that she's strong enough to attack the likes of an Auror like Neville or an Unspeakable Head like Ashford—"
Byron slapped his hand across his forehead and practically jostled her in his agitation, his golden brown eyes flashing urgently in impatience. "THAT'S WHAT I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU, HARRY! I DON'T KNOW EXACTLY WHO SHE IS BUT I KNOW THAT SHE'S A BLOODY UNREGISTERED METAMORPH! I ONLY FOUND OUT NOW! A METAMORPH CAN IMITATE THE APPEARANCE OF ANY WOMAN SHE HAS SEEN AT LEAST ONCE! DON'T YOU GET IT?! SHE'S BEHIND ALL THOSE ATTACKS!"
He yanked a piece of crumpled up parchment from his robe pockets and shoved it frantically into her face, all the while ignoring the stares they were both beginning to receive from the other worried Malfoys gathered around the large ballroom. When Harry did nothing but stare blankly at it, Byron let out another furious stream of curses and began jostling her form again.
"EVERY pureblooded male…Prior to the night of his 'attack' had been with a WOMAN! NEVILLE with LUNA…OSWALD with PANSY…Vincent with one of the CISO secretaries…Blaise with his family friend…ALL WITH A WOMAN, HARRY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY?!"
Harry snatched the parchment from his hand and held it up to the light, peering intently at it in growing mortification. Within a couple of seconds, however, she finally glanced back up and met Byron's wide brown eyes over the parchment in her hand – the expression on her face finally beginning to dawn in realization. Byron met her gaze easily, nodding urgently at her in affirmation.
"Do you understand now, Harry?! Where's Draco?! Were you able to find him? Did you get to him in time? Harry, what happened?! Tell me—" He stopped when the crumpled parchment promptly slipped right through Harry's fingers, falling down listlessly onto the cold, marble floor.
"…I thought she was you!"
Draco's shouted words suddenly began repeating themselves clearly in her head, causing her to clench her hands into tight, frustrated fists just as she realized the gravity of her mistake.
"Harry…?"
Byron blinked and watched in confusion as his cousin-in-law's eyes slowly began to darken in horror, the blood in her cheeks beginning to drain out of her face. Flicking her wide eyes back up to meet his, Jaimee gasped softly and managed to let out one hoarse, barely audible whisper.
"Oh good god…"
Bryon stared right back at her, trying to decipher the aghast look on her face.
"What? What's wrong—"
Even before Byron could finish his sentence, Jaimee had already whirled around and began tearing back through the MMC ballroom as fast as she could – her loud scream echoing loudly above the lively chatter of the ballroom guests and the softly playing jazz music in the background.
"DRAAAAAAAAAAACO!"
"DRACO! ARE YOU STILL IN THERE?!"
Harry didn't bother waiting for an answer as she raised her wand and blasted right through the large entrance doors to the MMC penthouse – ducking and raising a hand over face to protect herself from the tiny shards of wood and debris that scattered and showered around the room.
She heard Byron's heavy footsteps thudding down the long hallway behind her but she ignored him, racing through the entrance doors and making her way back through the large penthouse living room. Blasting her way through the locked doors that led to the master bedroom, she stopped for a brief second when she heard Byron's vague shouts calling out to her from a couple of feet away.
"Harry, WAIT A MINUTE! Don't just go rushing in there, that's DANGEROUS—"
She raised her wand and blasted through the large bedroom double doors anyway, stepping backwards and waiting for a couple more moments for the wood and debris to clear away. Once the smoke from the explosion had cleared, she tensed in anticipation and raced through the doorway.
The scene she found in there, however, nearly made her pounding heart stop beating.
Sprawled out haphazardly onto the otherwise clean, elegant carpeted floor of the room just near the foot of the bed lay Draco's pale, violently convulsing form – the sight of which caused another scream to erupt from Jaimee's lips. His lifeless gray eyes stared up blankly into the ceiling as though they had lost all sense of what was happening around him and several seizures wracked his body – eventually causing the former Slytherin to clench his eyes, wince and begin coughing up blood.
Jaimee raised both her hands up and covered her mouth to stifle more of her horrified sobs – large, anguished tears already beginning to cascade continuously down her pale cheeks.
"OH GOD! DRACO! OH GOD, NO! PLEASE NO! I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY!"
A/N: Ehehehe…I'm sorry but that had to be done. I promise that it's the last cliffhanger of the story though. Estimating right now…I'd say there are a good FIVE chapters left before the story is actually finished. There will be an epilogue of course but as of the moment, I'm not sure if that's included in those five chapters or if it will be a separate one all by itself. :D
Unfortunately, the next chapter will probably take me some time as well…As I've mentioned, I'm having a bit of writer's block with this story right now so I can't finish chapters as fast as I normally do. I'll try to post the next chapter as soon as I can, I promise. I fully intend to finish this story. :D
See you guys next time! DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! :D