She arrived one morning, decked in dark blue fur and a snowy hood over her head. Narcissa Malfoy was the one who greeted her in the foyer. All cold poise and unruffled elegance. She took one look at the person standing in front of her and her eyes widened slightly, the only indication of her surprise.
"I wasn't aware that your arrival was scheduled" a veiled reference to the sudden and imminently unwanted appearance of the guest.
"It wasn't" a cold, clear response.
Narcissa cleared her throat delicately. This was as far as she would go to express her disapproval of the unannounced arrival. She liked to plan things at her leisure and something that concerned the bloodline of the Malfoys, well, it had to be handled with utmost seriousness and planning. She gestured for the guest to accompany her as she started walking towards the green house, away from the main building while tasking house elves to prepare a guest room as well as bring tea for them both.
When they were finally seated in mahogany chairs amidst gorgeous flora, the guest removed the woollen hood and Narcissa's eyebrows arched.
The girl was beautiful, no doubt. With her straight brown hair and hazel eyes, pale skin and relaxed smile. But, she wasn't remarkable. Not in any way that would entice her son that is. She was sure of that. After all how many times had she coaxed him to interact with the pureblood witches here, with excellent etiquettes and know-hows of the upperclass footings and traditions. But he was content being with that muggleborn for the time being, citing he would marry one of the Greengrass girls at the start of next year. Three months, Narcissa reminded herself, three months and she could breathe a sigh of relief.
Until her gaze fell upon the person sitting in front of her. The girl was at ease, just observing Narcissa with keen eyes.
"It's a nice weather to be here around the manor. The grounds look splendid at night with the moonbright flowers and the occasional snow fox"an attempt to tell her that the stay would be better for sightseeing only.
The girl cocked her head to the side slightly.
"I would like to meet my betrothed" a command so cold yet the countenance never changed. As relaxed and confident as if ordering a red wine to cleanse her palate after a dinner of an array of continental cuisine.
Narcissa let out a silent sigh. "Of course."
Tea was brought and the two sipped lightly as it began to snow outside.
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Narcissa swept into her bedroom where her husband was sitting at his desk, writing to Gringotts about one of their offshore accounts.
"She is here Lucius".
The elder Malfoy turned to face his wife, brows furrowed.
"The vow that your father made to the Fidèle family. They have sent her here. After all these years." She was pacing the room now. "Draco would never agree. What with that uncouth girl at his side. And after all these years. I thought they had forgotten. I thought it was over."
"An unbreakable vow can never be over until fulfilled Narcissa" her husband corrected her gently. She stopped pacing and sat down heavily on the settee near his chair.
"They are powerful Lucius. And an unbreakable vow? If Draco doesn't abide by it and they decide to declare treachery, our family is doomed" her head was in her hands now. Lucius got up and came to sit beside her, his arm around her shoulders, holding her to him.
"Then Draco would have to agree. The power and prestige he has here will flow over to France as well with this vow fulfilled, even the Dark Lord would think a hundred times before going against us" there was steel in Lucius Malfoy's voice.
"But thats the thing, Lucius, I don't think Draco would like the idea that he was betrothed to a girl years prior to even his own birth. I fear" a pause " I fear his anger" the Malfoy matriarch whispered.
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Neige Fidèle was an awful girl. Her Father said so; so did her Mother. Well they used to when she was younger. Whenever she would come muddy from an evening traipsing through the pond in the backyard, her skirts dripping and filthy. Whenever she would climb the twin willows in the Night Gardens to rescue an occasional spitting kneazle or a cross pigmy puff stuck in their gnarled branches, her hair matted with twigs and leaves and clothes torn with scratches all over. Whenever she would win every game against the kids of the guests who were invited to the Fidèle Castle for dinner and the kids would go screaming inside accusing her of being nasty and spiteful. Her parents would smile stiffly then and as soon as the guests would leave, she would be reprimanded harshly, no dinner allowed as punishment and she would listen to at length how awful of a girl she was. And no matter how much she tried to be less awful, less her, it wouldn't be enough for them ever.
None such instructions and inhibitions were reserved for her siblings though. They did as they wanted, spoke as they preferred and nobody batted an eye. Though if she were to be honest, they were fairly tamer as compared to her. Yet, she still hadn't known why she was the sole recipient of her parents' ire. She tried her best to control her awful, to tame her nature, to be polite and demure but she was only a little girl. And it resulted in a five year old Neige crying under her covers when the castle slept, a six year old her holding her empty stomach as it twisted with hunger, a seven year old her hanging her head as the guests soothed their kids and looked at her with disdain. She didn't understand why they were so hard on her until her Mother sat a ten year old Neige down beside her on the garden bench one cold morning and told her that she was old enough to understand now. To understand that she was to be proper and poised always. To be smart and cunning. To be excellent and winning. To be the best of the society for she was promised to the Malfoi heir.
Neige had scrunched her nose at that and so her mother had explained that she was to be given to him to stay with him like Mother stayed with Father and that had made Neige's face go white with terror. Her Mother had laughed silently, not now but when you are of age. And then she had proceeded to tell her how important it was for Neige to be less awful, to make good name of herself in their society, that she was to be wed into the most powerful of families in Britain and for the first time, little Neige had considered that maybe her parents were the way they were because she was special. So she had smiled and promised that she would do her best and she had. The next three years, she had tried to temper her self and did as was strictly required by her family and her parents had been pleased. Very pleased. Till it all came crashing down one fateful evening.
She was in her third year at Beauxbatons Academy, usually top of her classes and active in the co-curriculars. Then one November evening, her sister Isabelle had waltzed into her turret dorm and asked her if she wanted to go buy unicorn sparkles for her notes. Isabelle had just entered her sixth year and was always finding excuses to go out with her friends to the wizarding cafes on wisteria lane in the magical village of Clovertown just down the hills. Their parents didn't deny her outings like they never denied most things to Neige's siblings, however, going out three nights in a row was pushing it even for Isabelle. So she had made up an excuse that Neige was the one who was pestering her to go buy unicorns sparkles for her herbology presentation. Isabelle could've gone by herself and not informed their parents, but there was no point to it, not when every move of the Fidèles made it to the next-day papers or when the nosy village folks sent anonymous tips to their parents about their children's whereabouts and promised to keep the outings a secret for a little sum. One way or another, their parents always knew. So that's how Neige ended up browsing the shelves inside Centaurs & Celts while her sister went to a cafe just across with her friends. It was an unfortunate incident when an errant customer had tried to summon a stack of veela quills and instead managed to drop a heavy box of veela bones on Neige who was, to her dismay, in the direct line of the upending disaster. Her sister was informed and she was rushed to the village hospital immediately where a kind grandfatherly doctor tended to her head injury and gave her potions prescription for her concussion.
Isabelle had sighed with relief when they had finally made it to Neige's turret dorm room but that relief was short lived. Their parents had arrived soon after and demanded to know what happened. All had been going well until Isabelle had mentioned the doctor and their Father had blanched. You let a man treat your wound? The sisters had looked at each other confused and it was Isabelle who had answered and the rage that took over their Father at her confirmation had scared even the eldest daughter. They told Neige how she had disgraced them. That being betrothed to the Malfoi heir meant she could never let any man near her. Not even a withering old healer, when Isabelle had tried to defend her little sister. They had shouted and raged at Neige, telling her that if she ever did anything so atrocious again, they would take her from the Academy to be homeschooled. During all this time, she had stayed quite, head throbbing, eyes stinging and heart shattered into a million pieces. And when the blue of the morning spread across her windows the next day, she laid in the quite of her room; her heart enclosed in an icy tomb, her awful shackled to her bones, her emotions locked and buried in her core. Her peers had whispered, her teachers had mused and the echelons of the upper society had nodded with approval for that once awful Fidèle girl had turned into a sight to behold in the coming years. Cold and quite. Nary an emotion on her face. Her wits unmatched. Her skills craved for by every prestigious magical organisation in France. Her charm desired by those in power. Top of her class and the best of her magical peers. She was the Fidèle princess, too good for the commoners, they whispered bitterly with eyes full of longing. And when the rising of a madman in Britain made its news to France, the Fidèle princess quietly boarded herself in her castle and for the next five years, nobody saw neither hair nor hide of the girl who was betrothed to the Chief Commander of Magical Britain.