Forgotten

Forgotten

Prologue

The soft April breeze moved gently through the newly budded blossoms of the lilacs and hedge roses that edged the narrow lane. The pale green of early leaves covered the branches of trees that grew here and there in the fields, but their beauty made no impression on the solitary driver seated behind a Firebolt IV.

The broom was held loosely by the blonde haired, grey eyed young man dressed in a dashing, black to green cloak. A lock of straight blonde hair had strayed over one eyebrow, giving him an air of bravado that was belied by the misery reflected in his eyes. Though handsome, his face was still soft with youth, not yet having been shaped by the experiences of life. Occasionally he drew a silver flask from the pocked of his cloak and raised it to his lips, drinking deeply from its contents.

'Oh, Pansy, I was the best thing that happened to you, how could you have betrayed our love... for easy access money?' he demanded of the air around him. 'How could you have thrown away our love? But I'll show you... I'll show you! I'll... I'll marry the first girl I find!' He interrupted his soliloquy with another pull at the flask of Firewhiskey, then contemplated his situation morosely.

Draco Malfoy had just suffered his first disappointment in love. At twenty four, he faced it with all the intensity of feeling of which youth is capable. An heir of the Malfoy legacy, he had been secretly betrothed to Pansy Parkinson and had convinced the young woman to elope with him, away from all the demands of the Dark Lord.

Draco had met Pansy while enjoying his life in Hogwarts. A series of Death Eater callings during his late teens had delayed him from seeing Pansy until the age of twenty four.

He had first seen her, at prime, during one of his father's parties and had immediately been smitten by her tight blonde ringlets and slumberous blue eyes. At twenty four she was years older in experience than the naïve young man that was Draco. It pleased her to keep him dangling, and when he pleaded with her to leave with him, she agreed, thinking it delicious that she should add his scalp to her rapidly growing collection of eligible males. Without weighing the damage it might do to his ego to be jilted, she had promised to marry him as soon as he was able to procure a license, knowing that she would never go with him. He had hastened to her side, license in hand, triumphant in the thought that they would be soon wed. Upon his arrival at home, he ha found that, in the two weeks since the plans had been made, she had become the wife of Marcus Flint, a wealthy older man.

When he had learned that the woman he thought of as the love of his life was now beyond his reach, Draco had taken himself to the nearest pub. He had spent three days drowning his sorrows and finally, to his amazement, had become bored as well as thoroughly ill. He did not usually become inebriated in answer to life's disappointments, usually managed to take it out on Potter, but having been made to read the poets, he had learned that one had a choice between suicide or drink as an answer to a broken heart. He had chosen the latter as being the less final solution. Not that he spent much time debating the matter with himself. It was an unconscious decision that arose from his normally carefree disposition. But young men suffer intensely and must, if needs be, assuage the suffering by extreme means. That Draco, assuage the suffering by extreme means. That Draco chose drowning in Firewhiskey instead of drowning in the sea was a credit to his native good sense, lost though it might be for the moment.

Once the young man had finished with the measure he had chosen to relieve the pain of his loss, he had bathed, dined and slept, awakening that morning with a firm decision to return to the bosom of his family. Not yet able to face life without a modicum of fortification, he had filled his flask with the landlord's best and had imbibed freely en route. He was no more than two sheets to the wind because he held his liquor well, but he had consumed enough to surround events with a slight haze.

As the Firebolt swept along the way, the lane became part of a larger road and surrounded by a wall that enclosed the posting yard of the busy hostelry. The London Mail was just leaving, the owls having just sounded a loud hoot before leaving.

The rejected suitor, wishing to replenish his supply of spirituous Firewhiskey, guided his broom between the high wrought-iron gates that stood wide open in welcome to weary travellers arriving at the inn. He tossed the broom to waiting servant with orders to clean and wax.

The ground seemed to be a trifle unsteady beneath his feet, but by paying attention to the placement of his steps, the young man proceeded to enter the open door awaiting him. The hospitable host made much of his arrival, assuring him that he would find the table to his satisfaction and privacy guaranteed if he would but condescend to enter the private room just readied for his appearance. Draco graciously allowed the innkeeper to conduct him to the spacious apartment that had been set aside for the more affluent guests of the place. A fire flickered warmly, taking the chill from the room and beckoning the tired traveller to its comfort. A lounge chair was set at an appropriate distance from the hearth with a small dining table near by.

'If... if you wo-ould p-p-please bring me s-s-some Firewhiskey?' The care with which he enunciated his words hid the state of Draco's inebriation. 'F-f-food also.'

Quickly mine host called upon his minions to fill his guests needs. With a giggle, the servant girls prepared a heavy tray of food and half ran through the hallway with it. In their hurry, they missed seeing the figure hovering on the staircase, wrapped closely in a dark cloak carrying a carpet bag from which escaped bits and pieces of lace and muslin.

From within the protection of a large hood that topped the grey wool cape, a pair of frightened hazel eyes watched the door through which the two servants had disappeared. Before more than a few moments had passed, the two ran from the room, giggling outrageously and cautioning the guest to mind his manners.

The slightly built young woman waited impatiently until there was nothing more alarming to be heard than the low rumble of voices from the public room and the clatter of pots, pans, and dishes from the kitchens to the rear of the building. Tentatively, she lowered a foot to the next step, hesitating as though afraid it would break beneath her weight. A creak of a door from above and then a sound like a groan brought a look of frantic fear to the wide eyes. Quickly, as a hare fleeing in the forest, she ran down the remaining steps and whirled into the room where Draco was enjoying his meal. Panic stricken, she leaned her body against the door, as though her frail weight would bar an intruder from entering.

'J-j-just what d-d-do you think you're d-d-doing here?' The young man was still suffering from the results of over indulgence.

'Please, let me stay for just a moment. I am in trouble.' The girl turned to Draco, her hood slipping back from her hair to reveal a sweetly curbed cheek, limpid greenish gold eyes, and a soft mouth above a firm chin. The whole was capped by a cloud of red hair caught up in a Psyche knot that was showing a tendency to slip from its place.

Draco, his mind somewhat rattled, heard the fear in the gentle voice but, still wary of females owing to his recent heartbreak, he responded with a decidedly suspicious grunt.

'I know this seems very, uh, unusual, but I really do need to stay here. Well... at least I need someone who will aid me in my escape.' The young woman moved to the table and pulled a chair away from it to seat herself, showing a poise that was at odds with her frightened manner when she had first entered the room. 'Oh, this food looks wonderful. Do you mind if I help myself? I haven't been fed since breakfast, and that was just a roll and some water. Ummm. I'll have a bit of beef and perhaps a smidgeon of ham and oh, I must taste the pudding and...' The fear that had been so apparent had abated as it was replaced with delight at the sumptuous table set for the young man.

'Thought you was in t-t-trouble... Never knew a w-w-woman to eat when she was in t-t-trouble.'

'Oh, I am in trouble. Great trouble. But I never knew it to help if one had to starve to death, did you? I can eat and tell you my story at the same time, and then you can derive a plan to save me.' The young woman placed herself very matter-of-factly in Draco's unwilling hands.

Before he could comment upon the situation, she introduced herself as Virginia Weasley, daughter of Arthur Weasley, present Minister of Magic. She described her life, the Great War, and how her parents and brothers attempted to shutter her life from all its evils. Trying to show her family she could forge a life of her own, she left to come and work at this inn. Mr. Longsville, who was the owner had employed Virginia, hoping to enjoy her young charms, so to speak.

'So you could say he employed me to make me his whore, but I wont allow that. I'd sooner run off to the dark side.' A flush of outrage coloured the delicate porcelain skin. 'If you could please take me with you when you leave here...'

'Where's the b-b-bastard now? I should think he'd be right after you.' Draco had noticed the absence of clamour following his companion's entrance into the parlour.

'Well I... When he...' Dark lashes fluttered down, hiding the woman's glowing eyes. ' I hit him with the candlestick holder when he slobbered his nasty wet kisses all over my face!'

Slightly bloodshot grey eyes stared incredulously at the demurely bowed head across the table. 'You hit him? Did you kill him?'

'Oh, no... I wouldn't do that no matter how horrid he is. He's more like asleep... for a good while of course.' Shapely hands deftly cut a morsel of sirloin of beef and raised it delicately to the pink lips. 'Now, what do you suggest we do?'

'Out of curiosity, h-h-how old are you?' Draco asked.

'I'll be twenty two next year, which really should be old enough to look after myself, but isn't due to my wonderfully sheltered life.' The sangfroid with which Virginia had seemed to imbue her story disappeared from her manner, and the fear that really drove her was once more apparent in her face. 'Really, I would be so grateful to you, if you helped me. I'm sure I could find work as a nanny or something once I get away from here.' A tear trembled on her long eyelashes.

Draco poured himself another glass of robust Firewhiskey. His broad forehead wrinkled as he thought about the problem before him. Slowly the wrinkles disappeared as a sardonic grin twisted his lips. He lifted his eyes to Virginia's, his once open smile showing an unexpected jump into maturity. The naïve young man was no longer the unknowing green youngster who had arrived in Hogwarts.

'I've got the answer. I'll marry you and that will make me your husband. Then you wont have to worry about Longsville bothering you any more.'

'Don't be stupid- how can you marry me? I don't even know your name!' Virginia continued to partake of the food as though she were not startled by Draco's pronouncement.

With a slight list to the left, Draco rose to his feet and bowed low, clutching the table to prevent his falling o the floor.

'May I present myself to you. Draco Malfoy at your service.' His proper introduction ended in a small hiccup.

'I am pleased to make your acquaintance, but I remember that name from somewhere.' Virginia stood and curtsied.

'Thank you, Miss Weasley.' Carefully, he found the edge of the chair and backed onto it. 'Now, to resume our plans. I happen to have a license, so there'll be no problem as long as we can find a priest. You, Miss Weasley, must watch the hall and, as soon as it's clear, make for my broom- it's the Firebolt IV. I'll pay the landlord and be with you in a trice, and then we'll head back to London. I think it will be easiest to find a willing minister nearer there- and harder for your Longville to find you. Once we're married, I'll take you home to my mother, or you can go your own way, whichever you prefer.

'Oh, but... to marry me. How do you know that we'd suit? I'm not sure I want to marry yet.' Worried eyes sought reassurance from the young man.

'Don't concern yourself about it. I give you my word as a Malfoy to protect you and give you a home. I must say though, you'll never have my heart; its been broken in two by a most unfeeling girl.' Draco paused a moment to contemplate his betrayed sensibilities. 'But eventually I should have to marry in any case, if only to please my parents, so it might as well be you. You look nice enough, and, if my marring you will help in your time of trouble, why then, so be it. Now watch the hallway and no more talk, or I'll begin to think you'd rather stay with your Longville.'

Virginia cast a wondering gaze at her heroic rescuer. That he was suffering from pangs of a lost love was quite evident to her discerning eye, but that he should be so gracious as to offer marriage to save her from Longville placed him on another level entirely. He had suddenly become surrounded by a shining aura such as she had imagined enveloped the Muggles Sir Galahad or Sir Launcelot when she had read about them in Malory's More d'Arthur.

Afraid that he might change his mind before they were away from the inn, Virginia slipped from the room and out to the posting yard, where she quickly found the described broom. She looked around to make sure she was unobserved, climbed onto the broom, then proceeded to cover herself with the thick fur robe in an attempt to hide from prying eyes.

It seemed an eternity before she felt the broom dip in response to the weight of Draco's body as he lifted himself up and took up in front of her. She heard his hand slide on the broomsticks handle, then the swish of the air. Very slowly the broom began to move in response. The girl could barely breathe, so great was her anxiety that her guardian might recover consciousness and discover her absence before she was safely away. Now that she was finally making her escape, she could wonder at her insouciant behaviour when she had sat at Draco's table, eating his dinner. How could she have paid so little heed to her situation? Perhaps even then she had felt the safety that Mr Malfoy's company offered her. Despite his slow and somewhat slurred speech, he seemed to know what he was about.

When Draco at last called to her to come out from under the robe, Virginia was more then ready to join him. As she slid her arms around his waist, she turned her head to take a long look back at the way they had travelled, but in the fifteen minutes or so since they had left the inn, they had come far enough so that the building was no longer in view.

'I believe that there will be no dogs on your track this day, Miss Weasley. I made sure that the owner believes I'm travelling to Reading. In reality we're heading towards Godalming. We're sure to find a priest somewhere between there and Dorking.' The young man glanced at his companion, noting that her light hair had become dishevelled and her nose covered with dust during her short sojourn under the fur. 'We'll stop shortly so you can refresh yourself. You don't look like a bride at the moment. Can you act like one?' Mr. Malfoy took an encouraging nip from his ever present flask.

'Are you in pain, Mr Malfoy?' The girl fixed a questioning look upon Virginia. 'My father used to carry his medicine about in a silver bottle just like that. Oh, I'm sorry. I'll tidy my hair and put on a ribbon. I have one in my bag. It might be a bit crushed though, but it's the prettiest colour. Cherry red.' She reached for the bag and began to undo the fastening. 'My brother, Charlie gave it to me for a going away present...' Abruptly the high breathy voice came to a halt as tears, held so tightly controlled for so long, spilled down the velvety cheeks. 'Oh, I'm sorry...'

'Oh bloody hell...' soothed Draco, taking the quivering girl in his arms. 'You look just like my younger sister when she had an attack of the dismals and tends to cry it all out.' He shifted him self before they could crash. 'Just cry away until you feel better.' He edged himself closer to his passenger, pulling her against his body as he offered the comfort of his person. Her crying gradually became sobs that softened and slowed until only an occasional hiccup echoed in the still afternoon air.

As the tears ended, Virginia became aware of Draco arms and the intimate association of their bodies on the broom. Reluctantly, not wishing to leave the comforting strength of her bridegroom, she began to pull away from him, only to find herself restrained by that same strength.

'Please don't move. I don't mind you sitting so close, and if we want to make time, you can hold onto me so you don't get bounced around so much.' Secretly enjoying the responses of Virginia's soft body was invoking in him, Draco found excuses to continue holding her.

Like to babies in the wood, the young couple took comfort in each others warmth, and the distance between Aldershot and Godalming was soon covered.

As luck would have it, they soon found themselves in front of a small, ivy coloured church on the outskirts of the village. A short distance beyond the church was the priests residence. The flower-filled garden and the sound of children laughing made them believe that they might have found someone who would help them in their need.

Although the minister professed reluctance to perform a wedding ceremony between them, without the presence of a parent, his wife, who was most romantically inclined, convinced him that the special license to wed was enough to sanction the marriage. She smiled most agreeably at Virginia as she handed her a bouquet of posies she had gathered. 'Every bride should have flowers on her wedding day, my dear, so do carry these so that you will have a keepsake to put away to show your children.'

A passing baker was asked to give the bride away, and the wedding ring was the small signet that Draco wore on the little finger of his left hand. When the priest called for any who objected to this marriage, Virginia held her breath, dreading that Longville might have discovered her whereabouts. Finally, the words 'I now pronounce you man and wife,' were heard and a burst of congratulations rose from the heretofore-silent baker and the minister's smiling wife.

A sip of wine and some freshly baked cake were pressed upon the newly weds in honour of the occasion, but as quickly as politeness allowed, Draco drew Virginia away from the church. Once more the two were on their way.

It seemed to the bride that, once they were again on the road, her new husband resorted with greater frequency to his silver flask. Although his posture showed no effect of the 'medicine,' his words became a bit more indistinct. The sun was already setting when Draco decided that the small hotel they were approaching would be an appropriate place to spend the night.

'Here y'are then, sir and mistress,' the short, fat innkeeper addressed them. 'This is the only room left, and it'll do you just fine, I'm sure.'

'But, I thought... that is...' Virginia was too embarrassed to express the hope that were to have had separate rooms.

'This is excellent. We'll call when we're ready for dinner.' Draco's words ignored Virginia's attempt to establish a platonic relationship between them. 'My wife and I are quite tired from our day's travelling and would take our rest before we dine.'

'Certainly.' Bowing and scraping the host took himself off.

'You... we... ah, we didn't speak of our actually being husband and wife, Malfoy.' Virginia's voice was not much above a whisper.

'But what would be more natural, Mrs. Malfoy, than for us to comfort one another?' Draco moved to take the young woman in his arms. 'After all, I have bleshed... breshed... b-les-sed you with my name, so I see no problemsh.' He bent his head to take possession of a pair of sweet pink lips before they could utter a denial to his wishes.

Suddenly, to the befuddled young man, his marital rights became the most important issue to be faced. He became blinded to the chastity of his new wife and saw in her the fulfilment of the need he had felt all during his courtship of Pansy. True, he had taken himself a slut once or twice, but his romantic heat had not been satisfied. His innate fastidiousness found no attraction in such random coupling.

Here before him was a woman he had rights to- clean, smelling of spice and flowers, warm and rounded. What better way to assuage his heartbreak than in his wife's sweet flesh. Without recognizing her instinctive withdrawal as the normal fear of a virginal maiden, he pressed his kisses on her mouth, holding her tight in the circle of his arms. He was intoxicated enough to unleash the bonds of civil behaviour, but not enough douse the fires of his easily ignited passion. He ignored Virginia's fluttering hands that were trying to push away from him.

'Come, sweet, lets play a game.' His lips pursued the line of her chin to her earlobe, paused to nibble at it, then stopped a while at the pulse that beat so erratically at the base of her neck. While he was busy at that pursuit, his hand moved from her waist, approaching...

*

Tears fell from the girl's eyes. Her introduction to womanhood had held none of the romance that she had pictured when she had read the joys of love. It would seem that, except for the marriage lines that had been given into her hand earlier that day, her spouse had used her no differently then Longville would have had she not run away. At least she was protected by that piece of paper. Draco said he would take her to his home, wherever that may be... and perhaps he would soon tire of this activity and seek his pleasures elsewhere.

Virginia fell asleep, only to be awakened some time later by the importunities of her bridegroom. This time he had slept off some of the effects of his drinking and was a more thoughtful lover. To Virginia's surprise, she found her body responding to the caresses of his hand and mouth. When he took her, she was almost ready to enjoy the sensations that filled her.

Once more before dawn her lover approached, this time bringing her to that sublime awareness that is the result of a mutual expression of the passions of the flesh. Her sighs and cries joined his as they reached the peak of their endeavour at the same moment. But then her newly found bliss was destroyed when his voice cried out 'Pansy' as his body shuddered in release.

At the hour after dawn Draco Malfoy awakened clear-eyed and clear-headed. He found himself sharing a bed with a scarlet haired female in an unclothed conditioned, who was fast asleep. Her face was nestled into the pillow, preventing him from viewing it clearly. His situation led him to the conclusion that at some point the previous day he had found himself a Cyprian with whom he had drowned his sorrows and found his joys.

He dressed himself, quietly, not wishing to awaken the girl, who no doubt would ask for a prolonged farewell. He reached into his pocket and removed his well laden wallet. He carefully counted out a few galleons, adding several more for the guilt he felt at leaving her without a good bye, and placed them on the bureau. With a hasty glance around the room too see whether he had overlooked anything, he removed himself from the chamber and out of the inn.

Returned sobriety had brought a loss of memory of the preceding twenty four hours. He forgot the girl he had married, the promises he had made her, and the hopes he had expressed.

Draco Malfoy was on his way home to Cornwall.