Forgotten

Forgotten

Chapter One

The crackle of the fire and the occasional slide of paper against paper were the only sounds in the exquisitely panelled library. The large room was furnished with handsome tapestry covered walls, leather couches and chairs upholstered in a French manner. Polished wood tables, some three hundred years old, stood next to the various chairs, holding many branched candelabra and bibelots collected from around the world. An unusual Chinese sang de boeuf cloisonné miniature of sixteenth century Venetian origin strong side by side with a bol recently executed by Josiah Wedgewood.

Seated at the large Louis Quinze desk was a coldly handsome man whose head was bent over the long curl of paper that was crossed and recrossed with an almost illegible handwriting. Draco Aiden Malfoy, heir of the Malfoy empire, was trying to decipher a letter written by his sister, Empress, who was at present visiting her godmother in Bath. The letter seemed to be a list of complaints. Her wardrobe was inadequate, the weather was cold, the entertainments were too lofty for a young woman. But- Dear God no!- she had been described as an original, an incomparable, and a gem of the first water.

Annoyed with his sister's shallow delights, Draco tossed the letter to the desktop and pushed himself away from the massive piece of furniture. He walked over to one of the windows that looked out onto the renowned gardens of Pentalwyn Hall, which were not yet abloom in this late winter season. Beyond the gardens he could see the rolling landscape that stretched to the rocky coast of Cornwall.

The cold, wintry light suited his mood as he contemplated the scene before him. Years before, he had taken delight in his home, but since from the Great War and the expected demise of his father. Draco Aiden Malfoy could no longer find the easy enjoyment in the simple pleasures that had once made him happy. He wondered if he were doing the right thing in marrying, Pansy, Pansy Marcus Flint, now that she was the widow of Marcus Flint. She had destroyed his youth when she had married Flint, but had expressed her distress at being forced into marriage with a man so much older than herself. He chose to believe her sentiments; at least she would be a suitable partner and would expect nothing more than the position his fortune and blood would provide. Love was no longer mentioned between them, at least not on his part. Pansy chose to pretend an abiding passion when they were alone.

A knock at the door disturbed his reverie.

'Come!' he commanded, turning to see who it war.

'Master.' Chiswick, butler for as long as Draco could remember entered the chamber. 'A woman, master, has requested an audience with you. I told her.' Chiswick seemed to have been unsettled by his meeting with the 'woman.'

'Well, hurry up, who is she?' Draco's aquiline features no longer reflected any of the softness that had been there in his younger years.

'She didn't say, master. She just insisted that she must see you most urgently. I tried to tell her that you see no one without an appointment, but she wouldn't leave. She sat herself down in the second parlour and said she would wait until you agreed to an appointment.' The elderly servant shook his head. 'But she is a lady, master, there's no doubt on that score. She came in a small private aero-limousine, and I caught a glimpse of two other persons still in the vehicle.'

A light eyebrow lifted over a cool grey eye. 'Very well, Chiswick, if you call her a lady, then I must surely agree to see her. Bring her in.' Draco turned his back on his servant to study the landscape once more.

Through the now open door, Draco could hear the rustle of silk and padding of footsteps, accompanied by the butler, walked toward the library. There was a lack of haste in the pacing of the visitor's walk and even an insolence, if the occasional pauses as though to study one of the paintings that hung on the walls of the hallway were any indication.

Annoyed at the presumption of his unknown guest, Malfoy moved to his desk, wondering about this person who had demanded an interview.

His attitude towards women being what it was, he was unprepared for his reaction to the lady who appeared in the doorway to the library. She was not much above medium height, but she carried herself with the air of a princess. Her clear white complexion seemed to him to be like translucent porcelain overlaid with a hint of roses. Her eyes, which were shadowed by long lashes, were golden and touched by a flash of green. Her face was oval, divided into portions by gracefully arched eyebrows, a straight nose, and lips that might have hinted at a sensuousness of nature were they not held together so tightly.

The heir felt a frisson of memory touch him, almost as though he had seen the woman at some other time, but he shrugged his shoulders in rejection of the thought and allowed a look of indolent hauteur to rove over the curves of her body, resting at last on her beautiful face.

She was dressed in the height of Witch Weekly fashion. A deep rose coloured dress robe adorned with a scarlet scarf around the neck. Grey gloves of hand worked kid covered her hands and matched the grey half boots at her feet. A small brimmed black beret was tilted daringly over one eye, revealing the soft curls of her scarlet hair.

Once through the doorway, she paused at the edge of the Persian carpet, studying him, waiting for his response. Her heart was beating with such force that she felt it rising into her throat, and she couldn't have uttered a word in that moment had her life depended upon it. She had thought of him constantly in the months after their marriage, wondering why he had left her without a word after having claimed his rights as her husband on their wedding night. He had taught her what passion was and had seemed pleased with her response. But when she had awakened, expecting to feel once more his warm arms and the taut, lean strength of his body, he had been gone, a pile of golden galleons the only sign that he had ever been there. If it had not been for the marriage certificate in her purse, she would have doubted her own memory.

She gazed at his face, once so beloved in her thoughts, not unfamiliar in her sight. There was no remnant of the young man she had married. What had been an unformed, sweetly handsome face was now cold and autocratic. He held himself stiffly upright, hand on hip, challenging her right to be in this place. His grey eyes were icy and filled with an unexpected animosity, as though her appearance displeased him. She had known that this meeting would be difficult, but she had not expected it to be met with enmity and the blank lack of recognition.

She shot her hand forward in greeting as she said, 'hello.'

'Miss,' he acknowledged her presence. But ignored her outstretched hand. 'You wanted to see me. Why?'

'Are you going to offer the hospitality of a seat to a visitor, Malfoy?' With supreme effort she hid her shock at his cold regard.

Her tranquil voice and direct attack startled him. A Malfoy looked to no one to remind him of his manners.

'If you will.' He gestured to a small fauteuil, betraying his anger at her insolence in the sharpness of his voice. 'What is this urgent matter that has brought you into my home? Who are you and why are you here?'

Ignoring his question, Ginny took the seat offered to her. She stripped of her gloves and arranged them on her lap, keeping a tight reign on her feelings, hoping that the tremor that swept through her would not be apparent to him.

'I believe you placed an announcement in the Witch Weekly, stating that you are betrothed to Pansy Parkinson Flint?'

Draco's eyebrows arched in response to the inquiry. 'What has that got to do with your visit here?'

'Is Ms. Flint the same lady who uhh, left you some eight years ago?' Virginia's voice remained quiet almost offhand, as she spoke.

'You, will answer me at once!' His temper began to flare. 'What is your business here? What kind of insinuations are you making?'

'Regretfully, I've come to inform you that you will have to retract your offer of marriage to Ms. Flint.' Virginia paused as though to gauge the impact of her next words. 'I have come to tell you that you will be committing bigamy should you marry anyone. You are already married!'

Grey eyes opened wide in amazement; then a chill laugh rang out. 'You are an original, madam. You arrive at my home unknown and uninvited, forbear to tell me your name, but caution me that I'm married. What's your game? Is this some scheme by which you hope to gain some vast sum of money from me?'

Virginia maintained her calm demeanour, not yet understanding fully why her husband should deny his wedded state. 'I don't need your money, and my name which should have been known to you for these past eight years, not mentioning the time together at Hogwarts, is Virginia Weasley Malfoy.'

'Wrong answer.' Draco leaned against the desk, looking like a tiger ready to spring on its prey. 'What bullshit is this? I have never been married, and without a doubt not to a Weasley.' His eyes roamed over her face and body, mentally undressing her as though she were merchandise to be examined for his purchase. 'Fuck you, I might, but marry you. I doubt it. Now, closing this. There is no way you can inveigle me to change my plans, so you might as well take yourself off, before I call the Ministry.'

As Draco spoke, Virginia reached into her purse and withdrew a folded paper and a small piece of jewellery. Her eyes ablaze, she handed them to him. 'I think you should look at our marriage lines, Draco, and that you will also recognize this ring.' She sat still, waiting for the tall blonde-haired man to walk to her side.

He accepted the ring silently, his face paling at the sight of the small signet that his mother had given him on his eighteenth birthday. He had missed it years ago and had always wondered where it had gone. He slipped it onto his little finger before glancing at the slightly worn parchment. He read the lines that attested to the fact that Virginia Weasley had become the wife of Draco Aiden Malfoy on the seventeenth day of April in the year before the Great War, in the village of Godalming, Hampshire, joined that day by the Reverend Arthur C. Badger, D.D.

'This is impossible. I don't remember any of this.' Draco rubbed the back of his neck as though to stimulate his memory. 'How did it happen? I don't even remember you, not even in Hogwarts.'

'You were on your way to your home when we met at an inn just outside Aldershot. I had left home, and about to be raped by the inn's owner, but I. laid him low a candlestick and ran from his 'protection.' You were dining in the private room, and when I prevailed upon you to help me, you informed me that we could marry because you had an unused license in your pocket. You told me that you planned on a marriage with Pansy Parkinson, but that she had married a wealthy, old man instead, and you were determined to make use of the license. You were also imbibing very heavily from a silver flask as well as from the stores of the inn, but I was inexperienced to realise that you must have been quite inebriated.

'In any case we left the inn and found the Priest Mr. Badger, who performed the ceremony. You then took me to another hostelry, where you quaintly put it, 'fucked me.' When I awoke in the morning, you'd left, leaving me an amount of money on the bureau. I never knew why you did that, after you promised to love, honour and cherish me. Eventually I learned to cope with the disappearance of my husband.'

'Why did you not make yourself known to me years ago?'

'You forget, that you never gave me your address. I had met you in Hampshire and knew you as Draco Malfoy. However none of your houses are plottable. I was young, very innocent, and very distraught. I had left my family, and if I returned to them with the news I was married to a Malfoy they would have disregarded me anyway. So I managed to survive the first few weeks only by living in a most humble way, stretching the galleons you left me so that they would last as long as possible. I had used them all and was wandering down a lane near Petersfield when I fainted. To my everlasting good fortune, I was found by a Miss Arabella Figg, a recluse who lived in the area. She was retired entertainer who, perhaps because of her own experiences in the world, took me in and cared for me until her death two years ago. Since then I have lived quietly with Dante and Mrs Ogden, who was Miss Figg's attendant and is now my companion. When I saw your announcement in the Weekly, I knew that I must come here and prevent you from marriage.'

'You have the effrontery to tell me you have lived all these years with this man Dante and now wish to be recognized as my wife?' The Arctic could have been no colder than Draco's voice.

'I'm asking for your indulgence for a moment, Ferret.' Virginia stood and walked quickly to the door. 'I would like you to meet Dante.'

Draco's face flushed with wrath. The shock of meeting a wife he had never known he had, the thought of the brangle that would follow his announcement that he would no longer be able to honour his betrothal, and the easy manner in which the woman had responded to his anger combined to hold him motionless for the few moments that passed before Virginia returned to the library.

She walked into the room followed by a tall, imposing woman dressed in the sober garments that announced her as Mrs. Ogden. Holding Virginia by the hand was a boy, blonde-haired and open-faced, bit of a curious dignity for one so young.

'Draco, this is Dante Orpheus Malfoy, Dante, make your bow to your father.' Virginia drew the boy forward to face the man who was held motionless by the enormity of what he had just heard.

The child straightened and stood with his hands by his side, feet together. He ducked his head in a short almost regal gesture, acknowledging Draco with a 'dad' as he did so.

Except for his colouring, the boy looked like his mother. But his eyes were the Malfoy eyes, that clear lucid grey with the dark ring around the outer edge of the iris, and with deep set eyelids that were not yet pronounced in such a youngster but were indicated by the shape. There was no denying the fact that the child carried Malfoy blood.

Father and son studied each other, the younger with the curious innocence of youth, the older with the incredible knowledge that he was responsible for the birth of a human being of whom he had been totally unaware until this moment. At last Draco took a deep breath. For the time being he must accept this situation. The papers seemed to be in order. Until he could speak to his solicitor and his man of business, he would perforce allow the woman to remain in his home.

Virginia stood quietly, watching her husband. He was an unde-ciphered quantity to her. She had once known him for less than twenty-four hours, and eight years had passed since then. She was concerned only that her son should be acknowledged by his father. With that recognition would come a secure future for Dante. Money was not the reason: Miss Figg had left her fortune to the forgotten bride. Instead, Virginia had come to Pentalwyn Hall out of a desire to see her son accepted as the rightful heir to the Malfoy kingdom and all that it stood for. As the son of a single woman of questionable heritage, he would have had difficulty making his way in the world. His social position would have been in question. His acceptance into groups. But as the acknowledged legal heir of Malfoy, he would be desirable not only in his own right, but also could be counted an asset to his country.

All of Virginia's fears when she had discovered herself to be pregnant and destitute, before Miss Figg had rescued her from an uncertain dater, rose to the surface as she watched her husband studying the boy. Her love for her child was the strength that held her days together. Her pride in his innate dignity and winsomeness gripped her throat making speech impossible.

She waited, her heart fluttering with anxiety, her breath held by lungs immobilized by apprehension until at last Draco said, 'Welcome Malfoy Hall, Dante.' He slowly extended his hand to his son. 'I hope you will be happy here.'

Even as he greeted the boy, he wondered at his ready acceptance of this woman's story. Something about her was appealing- a certain air of sadness. Suddenly he wanted to take back his words, to send these people far away, to a place where he would never see them. Their arrival would alter his life greatly, and he wasn't prepared for such change.

But the touch of the child's hand in his, and the confiding tone as Draco agreed that he was sure he would enjoy Pentalwyn, drew Draco's attention. He responded to the boy's hope that he would find a stable for his new pony.

'You ride, do you? That's...very nice.' There was an awkward pause. Finally Virginia made a motion to the woman who had entered the room with Dante.

'Malfoy, this is Mrs. Ogden. She is my friend and goes with me wherever I go.' Virginia lifted her chin, directing her challenge at the taciturn man standing opposite. Her lip curled in derision at the curt tilt of the man's head as he acknowledged the introduction.

Once more silence filled the room as each party eyed the other, waiting for someone to do or say something that would relieve the tension. Draco was momentarily at a loss as to what to do next. His mind revolved around this unprecedented situation. That he could have married and forgotten, that he should have become engaged while married, that his unknown wife should appear out of nowhere presenting to him an unlooked for son, that he had to inform Pansy of the whole- all were a series of events he would rather have lived without. At last he shrugged his shoulders, still silent. Chiswick would have to see the unwelcome party settled in a suite of rooms.

Unexpectedly, Mrs. Ogden made a remark about a piece of sculpture that stood on a malachite base in an alcove between two of the windows. She commented on its obvious antiquity, asking if it were Greek. Pleased to be able to turn his attention from the wife and child he had never known, the ferret answered and was shortly involved in a brief discussion about his experiences in Greece the preceding year.

As the ferret spoke with Mrs. Ogden, Virginia moved to Dante's side and put her hand protectively on the boy's shoulder. She leaned over to whisper in his ear, complimenting him on his deportment before his father.

'I don't think he likes me very much,' Dante replied not taking his eyes from his father's face. 'Do we really have to stay here, Mama? I'd rather go back home. Jemmy and Charlie will be missing me. They might even forget me.' He turned his eyes to his mother's face.

'No, darling, they would never forget you. We'll visit them one day, and you'll see that they remember you and still love you.' She pulled the boy against her as she spoke. 'This is home now dearest. Your father will like you well enough once he gets to know you. He probably didn't expect such a handsome, strong boy and is too surprised to be very friendly.'

'I 'spect you're right, but he didn't seem very glad to meet me.' The boy stood quietly, leaning against his mother.

Virginia fell silent too, wondering at her own temerity and the fortitude with which she had remained calm in the face of the ferret's icy scepticism. She realized that he still had doubts about her veracity, despite the evidence of the marriage certificate and the ring. Obviously, when he had inherited his wealth, he inherited his status too. That combined with whatever prior experience he may have had since she had last seen him, had given him an attitude of distrust towards the world. It was completely possible that in introducing herself into his life and bringing this son to his notice she might have done herself a greater disservice than that of remaining quite unknown. Nevertheless, no matter what the cost to herself, Dante would benefit. For now, that was all that mattered.

Virginia's thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the elderly factotum. 'Master, you rang?'

'Chiswick, yes.' Draco's casual conversation with Mrs. Ogden seemed to have taken his attention away from the matter at hand. 'You will please see that...ah...Mrs...' He was at a loss for words to describe the unwanted trio, then decided abruptly that, for the moment, he must acknowledge the proof of his marriage. He started to give his directions to the butler once more. 'Please see that my son and Mrs. Ogden are suitably quartered. My wife will join them shortly.' Disregarding the surprise on the face of the old man, he turned to Virginia to explain to her that he would appreciate her attendance upon him for a few moments before she retired to freshen herself.

Once Chiswick, followed by Dante and Mrs. Ogden, had left the room, the ferret slowly circled Virginia, raising his head to examine her. His eye missed nothing- the clenched hands with whitened knuckles, the flash of anger in her eyes, the slight flare of her nostrils, and above all the rigidly held back, stiff as a board, refusing to bow to the discourteous scrutiny.

'Well, Malfoy? Have you finished?' Virginia's usually sweet voice was harsh as she met her husband's gaze.

'Just about. You'll do. One wife or the other, it makes no difference. I need a wife. It might as well be you since you've already borne the heir.' Once more he rang for a servant. 'I ask that you be ready to meet my mother and our guests in an hour and a half. It's three now. That leaves you thirty minutes.'

*

Two minutes were left of the thirty minutes stipulated by Draco when Virginia rang for a servant to conduct her to her husband's presence. She and Mrs. Ogden had quickly discussed the coming presentation to Narcissa and the unnamed guests who were enjoying the hospitality of the Malfoys.

'Ginny,' began Mrs. Ogden, using her nick name for Virginia, 'I wish you had waited until you had written this news to the man. He seems, proud, one who prefers to control events rather than be controlled.' The imposing lady lifted her dress robes as she backed up to the fireplace in the spacious bedroom that had been assigned to Virginia. 'I think he was rather too stunned by your arrival and Draco's to understand completely what was happening. But be assured that here will be one monstrous storm when he wakes up to the truth. I fear for you when it occurs.

'Olga, stop conjuring up your flights of fancy,' Virginia replied. 'Keep them for the novels you read. Despite everything, he is better then his father, and he has no choice to behave dignified.' Virginia turned huge golden eyes to her companion. A shadow of fear touched them for an instant then disappeared as she smiled. 'You know, your imagination really sets me off. I could almost believe you when you look so mysterious and so prodigiously...pompous! Now stop your fantasies and let's learn how to get used to living in this palace. Call for a maid to sit with Dante when you're ready to come down to dinner. Please allow me a few minutes with Draco before joining us.' Virginia touched Olga's hand, half in plea, half in comfort. 'I think I'll need your support by then.

'She turned once more to view herself in the mirror and straighten the folds of the amber gown she wore. The modes décolletage revealed white shoulders and the shadow of a delicately rounded breast. A row of pearls and topazes shaped the waistline as a belt. Her necklace of topazes, each set in a circlet of seed pearls, reflected her glowing eyes. Her hair was dressed simply in a knot bound with pearls high on her head, with a few loose tendrils caressing her perfectly oval face.

When a rap at the door announced the arrival of her escort, Virginia picked up a sheer mousseline de soie scarf embroidered with seed pears in a tracery of leaves arranged it around her shoulders. She reminded her companion to take no longer than fifteen minutes before joining her, then followed the servant down the corridor.

She had no doubt that the coming meeting with Draco would be even more difficult than the previous one. Then she had the advantage of surprise. Because he had no memory of her, he could marshal no defence. But now his keen and incisive mind was sure to devise arguments against her intrusion into his life. It was bound to be unpleasant. The man who had been her saviour that Spring day so long ago had become someone quite different. Virginia doubted that the present Malfoy would ever succumb to overindulgence of brandy as an antidote for any of life's disappointments. Nor would he respond to a young damsel in distress with an act of chivalry, as had the young Draco Aiden Malfoy.

But then, the young Virginia would never have had the courage to make a claim upon another such as she was making upon Draco now. True it was her legal right to take her place at his side, but ethically, she should be ready to step aside for his chosen bride.

Perhaps, though, she was doing him a favour. It was incomprehensible to Virginia, that he could have chosen the same woman who had treated him with such cruelty eight years ago. Whatever had happened in the years since then, it surely must have erased the meaning of love and tenderness from his character.

Virginia had been following the servant automatically, lost in her thoughts. She was recalled to herself when his soft voice announced that they had reached the library. She responded with a smile of thanks and entered the room, her apprehension well hidden behind a calm expression and a dignified bearing.

'Well, at least you're punctual!' Her husband greeted. If a glimmer of appreciation appeared in his eyes at her appearance, Virginia was not aware of it.

She moved slowly across the carpet and sank gracefully into a chair before answering in a kind voice, 'Draco, unlike Slytherin's Gryff's are true in what they say. I have no need of prevarication at any time.' She watched him pour two glasses of wine from a gleaming crystal decanter. 'Are we to drink a toast to our future together?'

'I hadn't thought of doing that. I intended to offer you some Dutch courage against the coming meeting with your mother in law and my erstwhile fiancée.' Without a modicum of emotion on his face, Draco offered Virginia the glass of wine. 'To your very good health.' He tossed back his own drink and replaced the glass on the silver alver with an abrupt movement. 'I marvel at your sangfroid, to have arrived unbidden, announcing yourself and your son-'

'Your son also,' Virginia interrupted her husband.

'Yes, so you claim. Very well, my son.' Draco paced up and down the room as he spoke, unable to find a resting place. 'To have announced yourselves so coolly, so calmly, so unexpectedly. What kind of reception did you look for?' He paused in his pacing, coming to a stop directly in front of Virginia, studying her face as though looking for an answer to his question, wondering at her look of untouched beauty.

Virginia sighed deeply, weighing her words. 'I am prepared for any reception, because I know myself to be in the right. You did marry me, and you did celebrate a brief. honeymoon with me, and you did leave me without any explanation. If I hadn't been rescued by Miss Figg, I would in all likelihood have died, and Dante would never have been born.

'You took me under your protection, and then you left me in a sorrier state than you had found me. I could think of no reception that would make me feel any worse than I felt at the moment when I discovered you to be no better then my employer.'

Virginia raised her eyes to the grave face before her. 'With no thanks to you, I lived and was cared for and gave birth to a wonderful son for whom I am prepared to sacrifice my freedom in order that he should take his rightful place in the world. After all, it is really so much to give up for the grace and favour you could bestow upon us?' There was no mistaking the disdain of her last words.

Draco's light eyebrows flew up in surprise at the thought that his wife considered her situation a sacrifice. He contemplated her words, seeking to refute the import without losing his sense of superiority. After all, he was in command here. It was up to him to make her way difficult or easy and, in the face of the recalcitrant attitude she displayed, he would not be inclined to smooth her path.

'Do you expect 'grace and favour'?' he asked.

'Only for Dante. I have no need for it. I have mentioned Miss Figg cared for me, but I didn't tell you that, upon her death, I became exceedingly wealthy. She left me her fortune, her jewels and her three houses. You have no need to concern yourself with supporting me. In fact, I would be willing to add to your wealth a portion of mine should you wish to be paid for recognizing your son and myself.' A cynical smile twisted her lips. She had thrown the offer at him as though it were a gauntlet, knowing the insult he would consider it.

The colour drained from Draco's face, then returned in a flush of rage high on his cheekbones. 'If you were a man..'

'If I were a man, I wouldn't be sitting here talking to you about our son.'

Draco turned away abruptly, his hands clenched at his sides, the knuckles white with the effort to refrain from taking his wife's slender shoulders and shaking them until he had disturbed her cool equanimity. She was causing his head to pound alarmingly. Never before could he remember feeling such rage at another's behaviour. Yet, what was she doing that piqued him so? Why should she have this effect on him?

He took several deep breaths. 'I think it would be easier for both of us, and for everyone else, if we try to remain civil to one another,' he said. 'I must speak shortly to my mother and Pansy, and I don't want you to be present. You will allow us time alone and then Chiswick will show you to the blue salon. I hope there will be no display of temperament on your part when you do meet them. It will be a shock to everyone- even more so then it was to me- to learn of your existence. How we shall conduct ourselves in the future is something that will take a great deal of thought I haven't yet decided what I will expect of you.'

'And just what do you mean?'

'Why, that I might expect you to take up your duties as a complaisant wife in return for 'grace and favour.''

With that Draco withdrew, leaving a fuming Virginia behind.

Complaisant wife is it? 'Grace and favour'! Well, her hair might be red and her temper can and will match his. Just let him try.