A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own HP, or its characters. Evelyn is all mine, and I wont give her up!
Draco POV
Waking up the next day, with her entangled in the sheets by my side, and Blaise's strong arms around my middle, I thought I could die then and there, and be happy with the repercussions.
Both of my hands were holding one of hers, while the other was tucked between Blaise and in that moment, I had never felt more content in my life. Having completely mated with her, and the love that we shared solidified by a physical, corporeal bond was a feeling unlike any other.
But the protectiveness.. The possessiveness didn't go away like I had assumed, or more hoped, it would. If anything, it amplified. I wanted to keep her this way. Smelling like me, holding my hand, warm besides me, her heart thumping slowly in her chest as she slept, dead to rest of the world.
I could barely tear myself away from her side to have a shower and get dressed. It was a Saturday, so we had no classes, but Blaise and I had an already pre-planned engagement that we needed to meet. It was pertinent that we got there on time, otherwise I'd be in a whole heck of a lot of trouble, and it would be nothing but a headache to deal with.
My mother was a formidable foe when angered, and I had no intention of pissing her off any more than I already had.
As much as I wanted to just hold Evie, and keep her warm by my side, I knew I needed to leave. If only for a few hours, anyway.
It took a while, but eventually we were able to abscond from her side, and I felt unease settle deep in the pit of my stomach at the thought of anything happening to her. Once I was showered, prepped, fed, dressed and ready to leave, I made my way into the living room, after leaving Evie some of what I hoped to be edible breakfast, covered up, in the fridge.
"Listen, kid," I said, grabbing the sleepy cub by the scruff of his neck, softly, "I know you can understand me. You look out for her, alright? Keep her safe."
Even though it was stupid, it soothed something inside of me, subtly, and as I ran my fingers over the crown of his head, and stood, grabbing my thick overcoat, and draping it over my shoulders.
"Come here, Draco," Blaise beckoned from the entrance to the unlit fireplace, and I reached out to grasp his hand. He tugged me forward, but I knew he would be an arsehole and try and make me lose my footing, so I rode it out, and bumped our shoulders together. He was taller than I was, by nearly two inches, and never failed to remind me. He ruffled my hair, playfully, and I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling above us.
"Get it over with, Blaise. She's still asleep. I don't want her to wake up before we've got this over and done with."
His lips thinned, and his eyes darted to the staircase that would have led us to our love. I knew how he felt, it was a horrid feeling, missing someone when they were still within arms reach. I have never felt so wildly overprotective of someone else in my life.
Not even my mother, and I loved her with every ounce of my being. I wouldn't have survived my youth, had it not been for her mothering, loving hand.
On the surface, we look like a shitty, unloving family, but we weren't. Our inner circle, our true family was built up of six people.
My parents, Blaise, me and Valencia.
And now Evelyn.
Our sweet, beautiful Evie. The light of my life. In the eyes of Dark Creature Law and Precedent, Blaise was my partner, and she my wife, for all intents and purposes. If I were to die, and leave no heir, they would inherit everything.
In all honestly, I was so happy that I had found her. Finally. I was sick and tired of feeling so.. Aimless. She gave me a reason to get up in the morning. She made my heart treble in speed, from a single smile, that, to her, didn't have to mean anything. She was beautiful, on the inside and out, and we were, at long last, all together, and happy.
Blaise and I had fucked around with who we wanted before we were mated. It's true that it wasn't the smartest idea, but we were teenage boys, living in a boarding school, filled with easy girls, and more-than-willing guys. It was shitty, but I was glad that we were the ones to teach her everything that she needed to know.
Honestly, I didn't even know why she chose to be with us, let alone any of the scumbags we called 'peers'.
We weren't good people. At least I knew I wasn't. Blaise dealt with his own problems in his own way. Ever since he had been a child, he had written all of his issues down on a piece of parchment, and burnt them. A way that his mother taught him to deal with his sudden bursts of anger that plagued his childhood ever since his father died.
Me?
I pushed mine to the back of my mind, and forget about them.
If I don't think about something, it doesn't exist.
That's the way I used to live my life, and it had burnt many bridges with people that I could have considered friends. I didn't regret the way I lived, though. I never felt guilt over anything. I was a Malfoy first, and a teenager second. There was no room for mistake, regret, guilt or upset. I wasn't built that way.
Blaise palmed the endless dull green sand in the ceramic bowl besides the fireplace, and stepped inside. He called, strongly, "Malfoy Manor,", then tossed the powder against the charred flooring and was, immediately, enveloped in green, smoldering flame.
Turning towards the fireplace, I stepped inside, and with one last longing, pathetic glance at the staircase, I copied his actions, and a cool sensation blew over my exposed skin.
A light jerking feeling broke out below my navel, and as I blinked, I was back home, in Wiltshire, inside the main lounge room, with my mother seated on the long, leather chaise, her dress complimenting her dainty figure, and Blaise stood besides the fireplace entrance, brushing off the annoying soot that collected regardless of where you traveled to or from.
After I shook my head, feeling the soot collect in the lapel of my coat, I shrugged it off, and hung it over my forearm, and pressed a warm kiss to my mother's forehead.
Her eyes closed, momentary, and a wistful smile made its way onto her face. She asked, while pouring Blaise and I a cup of steaming cream tea, "How is my daughter doing?"
Blaise and I shared a mutual look of gross satisfaction, and my mother grimaced, deeply, her disapproval shining in her ice-blue eyes.
"None of that, young man," she said, clipping me around the ear, softly. She didn't like when Blaise and I talked about sex. Even though she knew it happened, and that we partook in it, she was very squeamish about her children's sexual activity.
She considered Blaise to be her son, just as much as I was, and she loved and cared for him. Ci-Ci and my mother have been friends ever since they were children. Younger than me, I think. I had always envied the depth of their friendship, and hoped that one day, Blaise and I could rival it.
Blaise and I weren't just fuck buddies. We were more than just best friends. We were partners. Confidantes. And, maybe even fathers in the near future.
"She's fine, mother," Blaise said, soothingly, grasping the pretty cup between his fingers, and taking a long sip of the thick, creamy liquid. I followed suit, taking a long draw of the tea, and I had to hold back a deep sigh as the fluid warmed my insides.
Quietly, I angled my body to face my disapproving mother, who's frown was far too adorable for it to be anything less than amusing. I asked, "Mother. Where is father?"
She glanced upwards, her eyes becoming glassy with sadness, and I, immediately, felt a rush of panic flash through my system.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, comfortingly, I let her blonde head fall on my bicep, and asked, "Did something happen? Mother. Tell me. What is wrong?"
She sniffed, daintily, and Blaise's frown deepened at the melancholy in her expression. She said, hopelessly, "He is in his office. He spends all of his time in there, and I'm worried there is something he isn't telling me."
I asked, softly, rubbing her shoulder, encouragingly, "Do you want me to talk to him, mother?"
She shook her head, strands of her hair falling from the loose bun at the nape of her neck, and it framed her face, prettily. My mother was a beautiful woman. The angular features that were passed down to me weren't only from my father. Her hair was blonde, thin but long, brushing the middle of her back, in gorgeous waves. She spent many an afternoon simply combing through the strands, while watching me play with Blaise in the garden. It was her favorite pass-time.
"No. He's busy. He would be down here, too, but there are things he needs to do. We, on the other hand," she said, pushing away from me, softly, and picked up her discarded cup of tea, sipping delicately, "Need to talk."
Fighting back the urge to roll my eyes, I asked, hooking my leg over the corresponding knee, "What about, mother?"
"Your wedding, of course."
Blaise's eyes nearly bugged out of his head in surprise at her words, and I had to clasp the back of my hand over my mouth to stop myself from spitting my cream tea over myself. In a fit of shock, I exclaimed, "What?"
This was going to be a long day.
-0-0-0-
Read and review. It's been a while, and I'm only putting this up bc it's X-mas. There won't be another chapter for a while, unfortunately. I have a lot of homework and coursework due for the holidays and I'll be working through the X-mas break.