Sweet Bondage

Chapter 13: The Book of Malfoys

It had been a long night and it promised to get even longer. Ginny's legendary self-control had taken too many beatings since she had gotten involved with a Malfoy, and tonight's spectacle was the worst one yet. As she made her way back to the living room, now returned to its previous state after putting the twins to bed, and getting a promise from Colin not to take his eyes off them even for a second, she made a promise to herself that she would not act the demented female again. Now that Lucius had magically claimed Luke and Nicole, there was no need for her to worry about their safety. Blood-binding ceremonies were the most sacred of all rituals, more irrevocable than any other contracts in existence, and for Lucius to take it a step further by basically connecting his life force with the twins, it proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he really did care for them. Unless he was suicidal, of course, which she was pretty sure he was not.

She stopped a few steps from the living room and, out of sight, she observed the five remaining people sitting quietly and waiting for her return. Her mother sat beside her father, their hands clasped tightly together; they weren't talking, but occasionally they would look at each other and everything they wanted to say was communicated through that brief eye contact. Her brother, Bill was standing by the fireplace, staring into the roaring fire unseeingly, his left arm propped on the mantelpiece. She could see that her brother was very agitated and tense, and she could totally relate to the way he was feeling; she herself was still liable to jump in fright at the slightest sound.

Dumbledore was sitting across her parents, his robes arranged neatly around his tall frame, his hands idly drumming on his knees, and if she squinted her eyes just so, she could see a hint of a smile on his lips. Lucius sat beside Dumbledore, and the way he was sitting with his back ramrod straight, she didn't need a seer to tell her that he was uncomfortable. Grandfather to a Weasley notwithstanding, he was just plain uneasy in a place that positively reeked of poverty. It must really pay off, perfecting that aloof and stoic façade, in cases where diplomacy was of the utmost importance. But she'd bet all the galleons in her Gringotts account that this was the first time Lucius Malfoy had ever needed that vaunted self-control in full force. If what she had to face weren't so terribly critical, she'd probably laugh her head off at his discomfort, but there was still so much left hanging in the balance, and until she got all the facts straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak, she was going to have to take a rain-check on taunting the formidable wizard. Others may view provoking the aristocrat as a form of death wish, but if she hadn't feared him in her first year when he had practically handed her over to Voldemort, she was certainly not going to shake in her boots now that he was hell-bent on sticking his name to her children's.

Taking a deep breath, she cleared the last few steps of the stairs, and with all five pairs of eyes now trained on her, she took the seat facing the fireplace and took her sweet time finding a comfortable position. She knew she was stalling, but as much as she wanted to finally understand what was going on, she also dreaded whatever it was she was soon to find out.

Finally, unable to stand the wait, she raised her head and looked directly at Lucius Malfoy. Then had a great difficulty restraining herself from sticking her tongue out at him when she saw he was smiling at her knowingly. He knew exactly how mixed up her feelings were and was probably delighting in getting a bit of his own back at her. Pompous git!

"Right then!" Ginny exclaimed loudly. "Where to begin?"

Mrs. Weasley looked at her daughter oddly, surprised by her tone. She turned to look at her husband, who in turn also gave her a perplexed look and a helpless shrug. Taking a deep breath, she decided to skirt around the issue a bit.

"We know you probably have a lot of questions, Gin," she began, "and we're sorry if we gave you the impression that we were keeping something from you. Though, of course we kept something from you, it was necessary. We just didn't want you to panic and think that we don't care about the twins; they're our first grandchildren after all and - "

"Molly, you're babbling, dear," Arthur said quietly, giving his wife's hand an encouraging squeeze.

"Sorry," Mrs. Weasley said sheepishly, casting apologetic looks at everybody around the living room. "What I'm trying to say is that we could not answer your questions before, whatever those might be, because we would be doing you a great disservice by telling you things we ourselves probably only know half the story of." She looked briefly at her husband before continuing. "I'm sure you're not too happy about Lucius knowing about you and Luke and Nicole, and believe me, it was also quite a shock to us when he came and told us he knew about your condition. That was probably why your father didn't immediately hex him off the Burrow when he came and talked to us, he was too caught off guard to do anything but blink and gape." She smiled at her husband's flush, which was probably also due in part to Lucius' smirk. Oh yeah, he was getting more comfortable by the minute, all right.

"We debated on whether we should tell you right away, especially after the story broke, but Lucius convinced us it wasn't the right time. Then Draco went away, and you had to go away too, so that sort of effectively cut off the need to tell." She smiled at her daughter hesitantly. "Please don't be angry with us, we never meant to keep you in the dark forever. It was always planned that the twins christening would be the right time to reveal everything. And since Lucius is the only one who can really explain to you all that have taken place in the past eleven months, we have decided to let him do all the explaining so there won't be any confusions in the future." She smiled more easily when she saw Ginny nod in understanding. "Now, what is it do you want to know?"

"If it wasn't you and Dad who told Lucius, then who did? Why d'you seem to trust him so much after everything that have happened? And why do I get the feeling that Lucius is pulling all the strings here?" Her questions were directed at her parents, but she wasn't all that surprised when it was Lucius who answered.

"For you to understand, Ms. Weasley, it is best if we start from the beginning." He waited for Ginny's nod before continuing. "I am not going to mince words and just say my allegiance several years back were rather - dubious, at best. In fact, I know you know just what my inclinations were in those difficult times, having been a victim of my - fanaticism. I have no excuse for what I did, I knew full well the motivations behind my actions, and was greatly disappointed when my machinations failed." He locked eyes with the young witch; he was baring his soul to this woman, something that no Malfoy has ever willingly done before, but if it will help her gain insight into the mind of a Malfoy, then so be it.

"Did you know that your mother and I was once betrothed, Ms. Weasley?" The smile that graced his lips at Ginny's gasp was a sad one. "Oh yes, we were betrothed at birth. It was quite a coup for both our families; they called it the match of the century," he avowed sarcastically, shaking his head. "There was no purer line than the Malfoys and the Prewetts, and I grew up secure in the knowledge that I would one day have a wife that was equal to me in every way."

Ginny's mouth was currently in the vicinity of the floor. Hearing her mother and Lucius Malfoy, together, was such a fantastic story there could be no way for it to be true. But when she looked at her parents, there was an air of overwhelming guilt about them that she knew at once Lucius had told the truth. It absolutely boggled the mind, Molly and Lucius having any sort of a relationship, that she had to shake her head several times to get her mind back to the matter at hand. Still, she couldn't help compare her gentle, pretty mother to the statuesque and haughtily beautiful woman that was Draco's mother. She loved her mother, but her innate honesty pointed out that Molly Weasley could never hold a candle to Narcisa Malfoy.

"I know you find it hard to believe, but I loved your mother. She was the one loss I found hard to get over for a long time, and I regretted every day that I never told her how I felt, never showed her what she meant to me. I'm a Malfoy, and Malfoys don't wear their hearts on their sleeves. So my father told me." He looked off into the distance, lost in reminiscing.

"I didn't marry until ten years later, which turned out to be an even bigger disaster. I married for all the wrong reasons, and I blamed and resented my wife for it. And I could not bear the sight of my son." He sighed deeply. "I thought of my own family as a trap that kept me from the one that I really wanted; I conveniently forgot that what I wanted was no longer available to me. Every time that Narcissa conceded to my demands, I remembered Molly's defiance of me, and every time Draco cowered in fear of me, I couldn't help but compare him to William, who was such a strong and brilliant young man. I overlooked the fact that there was almost a good ten years age difference between them. I dwelt too much with the what ifs in my life, so much so that I forgot to live in the present."

Ginny didn't immediately recognize who this William he was talking about, not until she caught Bill shifting uncomfortably from his position by the fireplace. Bill was never called William, his real name, unless her mother was annoyed by him. Now she was hearing Lucius compared Draco to Bill? Was the man daft?

"Were you Crucio'd one time too many? How could a boy possibly come up to scratch when pitted against a man?" Ginny didn't know it, but her defense of Draco proved that she was, and would always be, his woman.

"Like I said, Ms. Weasley, I dwelt too much on what I had lost. I lived too much in the past, I neglected to acknowledge that my present was vastly different. Now do you understand why your father and I could never stand each other? For the longest time, he was the pauper who had the gumption to steal my bride, and for that I wanted to eliminate his line. That was when I entered into Voldemort's servitude. I don't have to tell you how that ended," he said derisively. "His defeat at Potter's hand left me more bitter. I failed, I thought then. My colleagues and I were not able to get to your father and because of that, I became more harsh, and I took out that anger on the only people who would never think to defend themselves against me. I never laid a hand on either my wife or my son, Ms. Weasley," he said, seeing the condemnation in her eyes and interpreting it to mean she thought he beat his defenseless family, "but in every aspect, emotional abuse is worse than if I had physically injured them. At least then, once the physical evidence of the abuse faded away, they could go on pretending that it would never happen again. I never thought for one second what my actions would do to them."

He looked at Molly Weasley, sitting closely with her husband, their hands intertwined. "I never had that," he said, gesturing to their clasped hands, "and I didn't think I would ever want that either. It wasn't until Draco was ten that I finally woke up, and realized what I had lost. I won't go into great detail as to what triggered my change of heart; suffice it to say, I had ten years to make up for. Fortunately, my wife welcomed my attempts to correct my mistakes. Unfortunately, my son wasn't so inclined."

Ginny was getting more confused. She didn't understand why Lucius was telling them their history; there was no connection between what happened between her and Draco, to that of Lucius and her mother. She and Draco weren't betrothed, nor will they ever be. And that story about Draco not forgiving his father? She found it hard to reconcile the boy she knew to the one Lucius was describing. As far back as she could remember, Draco was forever extolling his father's virtues to all those who were wont to listen, and even to those who weren't. He was always 'My father this, my father that'. Who was the real Draco then?

"Why are you telling me all this?" Ginny asked quietly. "I have no opinion about your history with my Mum, that was over and done with a long time ago. And as for Draco; I have never heard him say anything derogatory about you, so I really have to say that I don't believe what you're telling me right now." She looked at her parents, who were avoiding her eyes, then at her brother, whose jaw was clenched tight, then finally to Dumbledore, who looked sad for once. "I fail to see where your tale could possibly lead to the discovery of my pregnancy," she said finally, deciding to ignore the different reactions of her family and the wizened wizard.

Lucius laughed mirthlessly. "Of course he won't say anything against me, he's a Malfoy after all; he knew better than to air our dirty laundry in public." Abruptly, he stood up and walked over to the window overlooking the front yard, gazing into the inky blackness of night. "Everything that I have told you thus far is important for you to know. At least, if you know a bit about my son, you won't judge him so harshly." He leaned heavily on the window ledge. "Were you aware that Veela blood runs in the Malfoy's veins, Ms. Weasley?" He looked over his shoulder to gauge the young woman's reaction. "It's not as predominant as it once was five hundred years ago, and no, we don't turn into avian creatures with fangs," he said dryly, seeing the horrified look on her face.

He turned around and perched on the ledge, his arms crossed across his chest. "One significant trait that we haven't been able to escape from, though, is the fact that we still get assigned one mate in our lifetime. One. When I said that I was betrothed to your mother, I failed to mention that she was also my mate." He gestured a hand at the couple sitting close together with their backs to him. "Do you see now how much I lost when your father decided to help himself to what was, for all intents and purposes, mine? Malfoy men don't take too kindly to any slight done them, Ms. Weasley. And more often than not, we retaliate indiscriminately." He turned around again and raised his head to the skies.

"My father was a harsh man, and though I vowed I would never grow up to be like him, I, nevertheless, became him. Probably the only good thing he ever did for me was when he broke the bond I shared with your mother. It, at least, gave me a chance to have a family of my own one day. The process was easy enough, but its long term effect was questionable. It also helped that I was never able to mark your mother; if I had, I don't think we'd be here now talking about twenty years worth of history." He took a deep breath once, then walked back to his previous seat beside Dumbledore.

"Before my father died, almost ten years ago, he gave me a book. It was heavily warded, but it wasn't all that remarkable in appearance, so I set it aside. I forgot about it, to tell you the truth, until four years ago, when I was on the run from the Ministry and I was holed up in the Manor for weeks at a time, with only the house elves for company. All I had was time in my hands, and I spent it exploring every nook and cranny of my home. That's when I unearthed the book. Since there wasn't anything else better to do, I spent my days trying to break through its protective barriers. It took me a year to open that cursed book, and when I finally saw what was written on it, I knew then that I had to do something to ensure my son would not make the same mistakes I did. It was almost too late when I approached Dumbledore and offered my help in bringing down Voldemort. I couldn't blame him for suspecting I had a hidden agenda, because I did, but not the agenda he thought I must have had."

"A book?" Ginny stated blandly. "You changed sides because of a book."

Lucius nodded once. "But it's not just any book, Ms. Weasley. You have to understand that I have tried to make amends to my son but I was getting nowhere with him. I have kept him from knowing anything about my associations with Voldemort, and have staunchly refused all demands that I initiate him into the Death Eater circle. Yes, Ms. Weasley," he said, noting the deathly pallor that came over the young woman, "Voldemort wanted Draco marked when he turned sixteen. He thought it would be quite a coup if the next Head Boy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a Death Eater, but I would not give in to his request. That was probably the only time, and the only issue, I ever refused to yield to him. I didn't want my son to share my fate, I wanted to spare him the indignities of my poor choice."

"But - but I always thought he knew, about everything," Ginny stammered. "He was always bragging about Voldemort to Harry and Hermione and to all those who would listen. I know he's not a Death Eater, but he might as well be if you listen to him talk."

"My son is an ornery bugger, Ms. Weasley," Lucius said, smirking proudly, "and he hates Potter and Gryffindors about as much as he hates me. If he thought goading the Golden Trio about Voldemort would get their hackles up, you can bet your life he'd milk that knowledge for all its worth. He'd probably wear him around his neck just to spite them. Remember his third year and the dementor incident?" He smirked even more when an amused grin graced Ginny's lips at the memory of Draco trying to unhinge Harry by donning a Dementor's garb, only to have the scare of his life when Harry sent a Patronus his way.

"He would never just accept others opinion, and if you forced it on him, he'll defy you to the very end, himself be damned. Knowing that about him, I didn't know what his reaction would be if he knew about my involvement with the Dark Lord, so if he somehow was aware about that part of my life, you can be sure it wasn't I who told him of it."

Ginny bit her lip in thought. Most of what Lucius was saying was true. Draco did have the habit of doing the opposite of what others thought he'd do. When she'd started having feelings for him, she had carefully studied him without letting on to anybody that she was doing it, and she had discovered that what he hated the most was conformity. He hated expectations, which was the driving force behind his obsession at defeating Harry at everything, from Quidditch to academics. He was somewhat successful at the latter, but he could never best him in the former, and he would sometimes display the most self-destructive behavior known to wizardkind because of what he viewed as total failure.

It got even worse when he got wind of the fact that their fellow students expected him to lose to Harry. That was why he had fought for the side of light in the war; not because he had seen the error of his ways and wanted to turn over a new leaf, or that he had realized the evil that Voldemort would bring into both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds; certainly not because he wanted to befriend the Golden Trio. No, Draco Malfoy fought with the Order of the Phoenix because he wanted to prove that he could best Harry in hand to hand combat. He would have probably faced off Voldemort just to show that he was the better wizard than that orphan boy he had labeled four-eyed freak. Yes, Draco Malfoy was a war hero, but he probably gave his Order of Merlin First Class medal about as much importance as bedding a random witch he'd met in his bar or in an obscure one.

"Okay," Ginny said into the silence that descended the room, "I have to admit I've noticed that about Draco as well. But what I don't quite understand is why this book you're talking about should change your whole perspective overnight. I thought it's very difficult to turn your back on being a Death Eater, yet you seem not to have been any worse for the wear from your defection."

"It's not difficult, it's impossible," Lucius replied simply. "The only way a Death Eater can leave Voldemort's service is by way of death. That's why very few, if any, live to tell about their stint as a Death Eater." He locked eyes with Ginny again to impress upon her the gravity of what he was about to reveal to them. "I knew the danger of betraying the Dark Lord; I wasn't sure if I would live to see another day after I had made the decision to change sides, but it was imperative that I do so. I did it not because it was scribed that Voldemort would be defeated once and for all, but because if I didn't, my line would end. I am not so much a selfish man as I am a Slytherin at heart, Ms. Weasley, and a Malfoy. I would do anything to ensure the continuation of my bloodline, and if I had carried on the way I had been, it would be almost a certainty that Draco would be the last Malfoy. I see I have peaked your interest at last," he remarked mildly as he noted Ginny straighten in her seat, her eyes rapt.

"This book I have been talking about is inappropriately named Book of Malfoys. I say inappropriately because it not only tells about the fate of my family, but also of the world we are living in. I don't know much about its origin, my father never told me where his father, and his father before him, got hold of it. All I know is that for as long as there is a living Malfoy in possession of the book, it will continue to transcribe events that will take place in years yet to come. You must be thinking that this book could have greatly helped Voldemort in his campaign," he deduced wisely. "I am happy to tell you that even if he had known about the book and somehow had gotten hold of it, it would be useless to him as the book will only yield information to the current owner of it, which would be the head of the Malfoy family. It's quite a heavy load to bear, knowing what I do; the temptation to try and shape the future to my advantage is very difficult to resist." He looked up to the ceiling intently, as though trying to see through the cracks to where the twins lay sleeping.

"To answer your earlier question; it was the book that told me of the conception of the new Malfoy heir. When I said that the Book of Malfoys contains events that will happen in the future, I meant it literally. As such, it records new additions into the family tree the moment a Malfoy consummates and thereby seals his bond with his mate. That is the only limitation to the book as far as its accuracy is concerned. Your name had been written down since you were sixteen years old, but it was only on the night of your eighteenth birthday that Luke and Nicole's names appeared." Slate gray eyes slanted her way briefly. "Can't really say I was surprised when that happened, and to be perfectly blunt, I had expected it would happen much earlier actually."

Ginny's face was on fire. She couldn't look the adults in the eye after that illuminating bit of information care of Lucius Malfoy. Her mother knew when she'd gotten pregnant, of course, but her father, brother and Dumbledore certainly did not need to know when she'd decided to lose her head and got knocked up in the process. In her opinion, that was just more information than was needed to be put out there. Then something nagged incessantly at the back of her mind, and she gasped, the beet-red color draining from her face to be replaced with deathly pallor again.

"If - if you know, then does that mean that - "

"No, he does not," Lucius said, cutting her off. "I have been a lot of things, Ms. Weasley, I have done a lot of things, but there is one thing I vowed I would never do: no matter how badly I wanted something, I would never force my will on my son. I have tried to respect his choices, even if am not happy with most of the decision he's made in his life. I may have been overly critical of his failures, but it was done to challenge him to do better. I am not going to tell you that my opinions of Muggles and Mudbloods have changed for I am not in the habit of lying to myself." His eyes darkened in his effort to control himself before he continued speaking.

"When I finally saw what I have wanted to see for more than a year, I expected Draco to come forward and declare his intention to wed you; after all, there was already a baby involved, two babies. But when he did not, I presumed that there was to be no wedding after all, that Draco had no knowledge of the pregnancy. Whether it was his fault or not, when you failed to get together, I don't know. I just knew I had to do something. It was not for me to tell him about you, so I kept the news to myself. He usually isn't very tight-lipped about his sex life, but this time was different. He would have been highly suspicious if I had confronted him about it, so I made sure that no rumor reached his ears, even when the Daily Prophet plastered your pregnancy all over the front page. If he had known, he would surely have insisted he marry you and that, I'm afraid, would have been a disaster. He doesn't know what he wants yet, and until such a time he does, you can't be together."

Ginny was speechless. She could not believe what she was hearing. "You seem so sure that I'd still take him back," she said tartly. "Do you even know what he did to me? Of course not; if you did, you wouldn't be so cocky, so sure that I would gladly welcome him once he finally pulls his head out of his arse. What if I meet somebody else and decide to marry him? What then? My husband could always adopt my children and that will be that."

"What I've said thus far hasn't really sunk in yet, has it, Ms. Weasley?" He leaned back on the sofa and crossed his legs. "When I said that we Malfoys have the blood of a Veela, did you wonder about its significance in your relationship with Draco?" He hid a sly smile when he saw the confusion on Ginny's face.

"About five hundred years ago, François Gerard Malfoy was known throughout France as the ultimate lover. Of course, that was just putting a nice name to what he really was, a libertine, pure and simple. He loved women, and the women, in turn, could not help but succumb to his charm, even if they knew that he would never be true to them. He had an estate in Tours then, as well as in Fougères, Vichy and Épernay, so he basically littered France with broken hearts. To give him credit, he never made any promises to any of the women he took to his bed, so when he left them, he could claim a clear conscience. But that was before he crossed paths with Helenè St. Cloud." A smirk blossomed on his lips.

"François described Helenè as the most beautiful witch he had ever seen and bedded. She had blue-black hair that fell down to below her arse, the fairest, almost translucent skin without a single freckle to mar its perfection, and the most beautiful pair of breasts his hand had had a chance to touch and his mouth to taste."

Ginny squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. Lucius looked to have been carried away by his tale that he failed to note the amusement in Dumbledore's face, and the harassed expression on her parent's. And Bill, Bill was looking furious, probably thinking that Lucius' talk was too much for Ginny's tender ears. As if.

"Oh yes, Helenè was perfect," Lucius continued, "and she knew it too. She was so confident in her charms, had assured herself that where others failed, she would prevail, that when François dropped her too, she became incensed. She could not bear to have polite society laughing at her behind her back. The way François wrote it, Helenè had raised hell when she got the customary parting gift from his man of affairs; she literally threw a royal fit." He shrugged a shoulder in dismissal.

"François didn't think much of it when she vowed to knock him from his pedestal, thought it was just the ramblings of a jilted woman. Unbeknownst to him, Helenè had approached a well-known potions maker who created a love potion according to her specifications. She'd hoped that once she gave the potion to François, he would fall madly in love with her and would thus fail to perform sexually with other women. She had no problem forcing the potion down his throat, it was only a matter of arranging for a male servant to mix the concoction with his wine, a male servant that was so dazzled by her beauty that they would do anything, even kill, just to have an opportunity to touch her; what she hadn't taken into consideration was that the servant wasn't too bright. He carried out her order while François was in a pub, taking refuge from the stormy weather. There would have been no problem there as the pub's patrons were all male, including the servers. Then came in this waif-like creature, wet to the bones, hair matted to her head; but to François, she was the most beautiful woman that ever walked God's green earth. And she was. It was only later that it was revealed that Cheska was a Veela, from a long line of Veela's. François never stood a chance."

Ginny was clearly baffled again. Lucius was going off into a tangent, and his amusement at his ancestor's expense was downright unbelievable. His tale was interesting enough, but she just didn't know if they were approaching anywhere near the heart of her predicament.

"It came to pass that all of François' children and grandchildren and so forth, had the Veela blood coursing through their veins. It is interesting to note though, that the potion which made François fall in love with Cheska somehow affected their son in such a way that Michel was only able to impregnate one woman despite following in his father's profligate ways. Since Michel was an only child, despite François' efforts to add to the number of his brood," a chuckle, "it fell upon him to make sure the name Malfoy survived. Michel had five children, all boys; he was very proud of that.

"As time passed, and the Malfoy children grew up and married and had their own children, all males I might add, everything seemed right in the world. Then one by one, the Malfoy men found it harder and harder to procreate. It was quite a mystery; how could such strong, able-bodied men, and randy to boot, fail to produce their respective heirs. That was already about two hundred years after François' time and oddly enough, no female had been born all that time into the Malfoy family. It wasn't until the late 1800's that a Malfoy scholar by the name of Titus studied the Malfoy genealogy and discovered that though the Veela blood had been considerably diluted by the succeeding unions of the Malfoy men, the one feature that stood out through the centuries was the gift of a mate. Gift!" he snorted, "more like a curse if you ask me. How could something that kept a body from siring an heir except with its mate be a gift."

He shook his head ruefully. "Anyway, Titus Malfoy immediately set out to create a spell to sever the bonds between a Malfoy and their mates. But by that time, it was already too late. After he had fine-tuned the spell, it was already the turn of the new century, Titus was too old to marry and his brother, my great-grandsire, only had the one son, my grandfather, who in turn had two sons, with one dying at a young age which left my father as the sole Malfoy heir. The spell was first used on him; my mother was not his mate, so to ensure that the Malfoy name won't end, my grandfather performed the spell on him. He never did get to meet the unfortunate witch that was his mate.

"Then there's me." He cast a pointed look at Molly and Arthur Weasley. "I will forever go down in the Malfoy history as the fox inside the henhouse who ended up with eggs." He shrugged. "No matter though, what's done is done. My father didn't waste any time severing the bond, and Narcissa and I had Draco."

Ginny had a really bad feeling when Lucius would not look her straight in the eye.

"Then there's you and Draco."

Ginny's back stiffened. "Wait, wait," she interrupted hurriedly. "You aren't seriously trying to imply that I'm Draco's mate?" She laughed, but even she could hear how forced her hilarity was.

"I'm not implying, Ms. Weasley, I'm telling you that you are." He turned his body around to face her completely. "Like I said before, your name had been written down in the book since you were sixteen, and you consummated your bond with my son when you were eighteen. I am not sorry to say that you no longer have a choice in who you end up with, Ms. Weasley. There is no meeting somebody else, nor marrying somebody else." Slate gray eyes glittered dangerously as his voice lowered. "And my son would not be held accountable if he commits a crime against men he thinks are trying to take away what's his."

Abruptly, he drew out his wand, laying it across his lap and running a finger along its smooth length lovingly. "Once a person with Veela blood marks his mate, as Draco has marked you, even if he was unaware that you were his mate, the woman is bound to him until the day she dies. She can never accept the attention of another male and if she forces the issue, she will experience pain the like of which she has never felt before. Do you never wonder why you fell in love with my son despite the animosity between our families and yourselves? That's because once the mate reaches the age of majority, which happens to be sixteen by Veelas standard, if the mate is close to the Veela, she becomes drawn to him no matter her previous feelings on the matter. Her choice is taken away from her without her being aware of it. That's the downside to it, I guess, but it is rather convenient, isn't it? You are rendered physically incapable of having a relationship with somebody else."

"Convenient? Downside?" Ginny's voice was starting to rise to the level of a banshee. "That's barbaric! How can you sit there, calmly telling me that I have no choice in who I end up with! I want you to do that spell right now, that unbinding spell! I will not be shackled to a man who hates me!"

Lucius shook his head. "I can't. Even if I'd wanted to, it's too late now. My case was different from Draco's, I was never able to mark your mother; Draco has marked you."

Ginny heard the calm finality of his voice and felt the aggressiveness drain out of her. All this time she spent trying to avoid facing up to the consequences of her action, it was all for nothing. Sooner or later, she would be Draco's wife. Deep down inside, she was ecstatic; but she knew that Draco would never willingly just accept the inevitability of their situation. Like what Lucius said, he was an ornery bugger, and he'd probably kick and scream before he'd let anybody walk all over him in the guise of destiny.

"There could be a mistake," she said quietly, "maybe the book was wrong for once. Nothing and nobody is perfect."

Lucius shook his head again. "If there was ever any doubt that you were Draco's intended, you bearing his children just erased that doubt. I didn't tamper with the book, Ms. Weasley, much as you'd like that to be the case."

Ginny looked helplessly at her parents. "This can't be happening to me."

Mrs. Weasley was out of her seat at once and perched on the arm of her daughter's chair. Her arms were around the teary-eyed young woman, trying to reassure her that everything was going to be all right. "It won't be so bad, Gin. You love him. I know you don't want to believe it, but you need him as well. You'll see, everything will turn out well in the end."

Ginny was grateful for the safety of her mother's embrace, but she was afraid to believe that her words were prophetic. "I just hope you're right, Mum. I'd hate for Luke and Nicole to be hurt by all this."

"Which is why Draco has to come around on his own, Ms. Weasley," Lucius said, looking at mother and daughter alternately. "If he doesn't, there can never be harmony between you two." He took a deep breath. "Which is why I haven't told Narcissa about any of this. If Narcissa knew, you can be sure she'd be dragging Draco here to marry you forthwith so she could get to enjoy her grandchildren. She will be greatly displeased with me once my involvement in all this is revealed. But I will cross that bridge when I get there."

Ginny peered at Lucius in between her mothers arms. "How can you be sure that Draco will eventually realize his mistake and come back to me?"

"Because I know my son. He will never completely understand why he touched you, no matter what he tells himself. He hates to leave puzzles unanswered; I only hope that when he does come, and realize what you've kept from him, you'll be ready for him, because though a Veela may rejoice at joining with his mate, the Malfoy in him will never forgive you for keeping his children from him. A word to the wise, Ms. Weasley," Lucius said gravely, "it pays to be ready. Remember that. No matter what he's done to you, he will still act the aggrieved party."

Ginny gulped. She didn't know how Draco will take the news of his fatherhood, several months after the fact, and she would rather prolong the inevitable several months more. She knew she was acting like a coward, but who wouldn't be if you were going to one day have to face a man who could cast the killing curse without so much as a blink of an eye. He was vicious to people who didn't do anything more than irritate him; she couldn't begin to imagine his retaliation once he learned of Luke and Nicole. Draco was possessive and obsessive (point in fact, Harry Potter), and she knew just how extremely paranoid he could get when protecting that which he deems his property, be it object or people. He fought with passion, he hated with passion, and she was heartily afraid of his reaction to the news of his fatherhood. Yes, she definitely wanted to avoid that happening anytime soon. She could do without companionship, and sex, for a while. Really.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The soothing darkness of night was a welcome respite on Ginny's troubled soul. She lay on her old bed, in her old room at the Burrow, staring at the patched ceiling, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Outside, the wind blew quietly, as though loathed to disturb her contemplation.

Several hours had passed since the meeting with Lucius, and she was finding it extremely hard to rest her scattered thoughts. She was worried, very worried; now more than ever, she feared for what the future might bring. After everything that was said and done, she didn't think she'd ever feel at peace with herself again.

Hearing that she and Draco were destined went a long way to easing the heavy load her choices had set on her shoulders, but it wasn't enough to completely eliminate her guilty feelings. She should have felt anger towards whatever malevolent force that took her choice away, but she was just so tired; tired of putting up a brave front, tired of the guilt gnawing away at her insides, just plain exhausted.

When Lucius had requested to visit his grandchildren whenever she came over for a visit from America, she didn't even bother saying no. What was the point anyway? At her current state, she was bound to lose any argument he cared to engage her in. It was just too bad of him when he took advantage of her weakened resolve and also finagled an okay from her for him to come over and visit Luke and Nicole over in America too. Opportunistic bleached git!

Giving up on the idea of sleep, she sat up and wrapped her arms around her drawn legs, the bed covers bunching around her. As was always the case, her eyes turned to look at the twins, who were fast asleep in their cots. They always slept near her. Colin had converted one of the guestrooms in their suite back in New York into a nursery, but she had insisted that the twins were too young to be left alone all through the night yet. Even Colin's reasonable argument that a baby monitor would tell them just as well if there was something out of place going on in the nursery did not help to convince her to install her babies in the other room. He had eventually given up on arguing with her about the issue.

A sound suddenly came from Luke's cot and Ginny was out of her bed and looking down at her son in a flash. Her mind eased when she saw that he was unharmed and still blessedly asleep. She really had to control her jumpiness where the twins were concerned; she doubted she'd last long being as stressed out as she was, but for the life of her she didn't know how she could accomplish that.

Looking at her son, she could not help but sigh. Luke looked exactly like what his father must have looked like at that age; stick-straight white blond hair, silver gray eyes; even that damned pointy chin was all Draco's fault. At two months, he was also beginning to show some character traits reminiscent of his sire; he was temperamental, demanding, and oddly enough, he had displayed an aptitude for the subtle art of manipulation the day he had developed the ability to smile. There wasn't anybody immune to that smile of his; even Ron, who considered Draco the worst scum on earth hell had ever regurgitated, turned to a blubbering idiot when his nephew smiled at him. He only had to start whimpering to have any number of witches or wizards catering to his every need. The only time he had been ignored when he showed his displeasure was a few hours ago, by Ginny herself, who wouldn't have noticed her son's distress if it was being broadcasted via flashing letters up on top of a gigantic billboard. Yes, Luke was Draco, or at least, the older version of Draco, if what she had learned tonight had any basis in fact at all. She still found it difficult to imagine a fearful Draco as a child.

Nicole, however, was the complete antithesis of her brother. Physically, they had the same coloring, but that was as far as the similarity goes. Nicole was a very quiet infant; that was the only word Ginny could use to describe this daughter of hers. She never makes a fuss; in fact, she never makes any sort of noise at all beyond the necessary. Ginny had noticed that she seemed to prefer listening to the sounds around her, only her eyes following the movements of whoever was around. She reminded Ginny of a cat, watchful, intense; she just didn't know if later on, Nicole would also manifest a feline's less than stellar characteristics, that is, viciousness and cunning. She certainly hoped not.

She had been worried initially by Nicole's unusual silence, thinking there might be something physically wrong with her little girl, a congenital defect maybe, considering the Weasleys were distantly related to the Malfoys. Thank Merlin her pediatrician eased her mind on that score right away.

Giving each infant one last lingering look, she turned to pick up her dressing robe from the foot of her bed and silently quit her room, heading for the kitchens. A glass of milk should put me right to sleep, she thought, grimacing at the thought of the beverage. She walked quietly down the steps and pushed open the doors to the kitchen. She halted in mid-step when she saw that somebody was already in the kitchen, sitting in the darkened room, nursing a mug.

"Hey, Bill, why are you sitting in the dark?" she said, moving to light the lamp on one corner of the kitchen counter and placed it on the Burrow's dining table, before moving to the stove and began preparing to heat a glass of milk.

Bill didn't say anything, he just kept on staring at his mug, once in a while moving it around by the handle.

Ginny glanced over her shoulder at her brother. "Hey, you didn't answer me. Why were you lurking around here in the dark?" She got a shrug for a reply. Frowning, she poured a good portion of milk into the heated pan and waited for it to simmer before grabbing her own mug and filled it almost to the brim. Carefully handling the mug, she sat down in front of her brother and scrutinized his face. "You okay?"

He shrugged again. "Depends."

That was not exactly the answer she wanted to hear. "What's wrong, Bill?" she asked, reaching out both hands and grasping her brother's, which were still wrapped around his own mug.

Bill sighed. "I don't know. I can't put a finger on it."

Ginny tightened her grip on his much larger hands. "Is it about tonight, what happened with Lucius and everything?"

Bill shook his head. "It's not only that; I just have this funny feeling in my gut, and I can't understand what it is." He looked up and stared at Ginny. "When I was watching Lucius doing that ritual, and then later, listening to him about his family history and whatnot, I got this heavy feeling in my chest. And I don't think it was about what he was doing and saying at all."

"So you think all that Lucius said was true then?"

"He was awfully candid," Bill replied evasively, "and he really had no reason to lie, does he? After all, he already got what he wanted."

"What about that part about him comparing Draco to you? Do you believe that?" Ginny valued Bill's opinion, and if Bill thought that Lucius was telling the truth, her uneasiness could be eased considerably.

"I don't know, it sounds like something he might do. Although, come to think of it," he said suddenly, "I do recall times when I was still in Hogwarts and he would come to the school. He was always polite to me, and Dumbledore once told me that it was Lucius who voted strongly for my appointment as Head Boy. I didn't understand why he would do that, I knew how much he hated our family. The mystery's over then, I guess." He gave Ginny a lopsided grin and a slight shake of the head.

Ginny drew back her hands, picked up her mug and took a healthy sip of the warm milk, grimacing again at the taste. "I don't really know what to think about all this," she said softly. "Everything just happened so fast. I had the twins future all mapped out, and then this happens. I'm not even sure what Lucius did was a good thing or not."

Bill nodded. "I know what you mean. After all, they've already kept a lot of things secret from you. Makes you wonder if all that was revealed tonight is all there is to be revealed, doesn't it?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed and her mug halted halfway to her lips. "Do you know something I should be aware about, Bill?"

Bill shook his head. "I know about as much as you do. But hasn't it occurred to you that with all the disclosures done tonight, some pertinent ones may have somehow slipped through the cracks? For all Luciu's honesty, there might be some details he left out in the telling. He won't be lying per se, but - " He trailed off suggestively.

"Lying by omission is still lying," Ginny concluded. "I know. Why do you think I'm having so much trouble sleeping? Most of what he said about Draco can be corroborated, but that's about the only thing I could be completely certain about." She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I don't think I'll ever trust him completely, but Mum and Dad seems to have taken him on his word."

"C'mon, Gin, you know Mum and Dad, they're too kind and trusting, they believe everyone is inherently good." Bill scoffed. "They never fail to dig up redeeming qualities on even the meanest villain on earth."

"That might be so, Bill, but you and I both know the exception to that rule is Lucius Malfoy. He's the only person who can entice Dad to do violent things. So for Dad and Mum to do a 180 on him, there must have been something that convinced them of his altruistic motives. I have to have faith that that's the case here, and not something sinister that we have no control over."

"I hope so too, Gin, for your sake, and the twins," Bill said gravely.

They fell silent for a while, each sipping their own brew. Ginny took the time to study the eldest of the Weasley siblings, and she could not help but notice the many changes in him. He was still very handsome, she felt absurdly proud about that, but there were also clear signs of stress on his face. There was a far away look in his eyes, and his easy going manner seemed to be a thing of the past. He had become very serious as of late, and she could still remember clearly how he had adamantly refused to talk about the real reason why he had opted to be transferred from field duty in Egypt, which he loved, to a desk job at Gringotts in Diagon Alley. Most puzzling of all had been his response when Fred and George had kidded him about Fleur Delacour, and his outward reaction on seeing Luke and Nicole for the first time. Something was definitely up with him.

"What's wrong, Bill?"

Ginny's question was so unexpected that Bill did not know what she meant at first. But when he saw the inquisitive look in her eyes, he felt his defenses rise up involuntarily.

"Nothing," he said abruptly, his tone clearly implying that he was not in the mood to discuss him and his problems.

"It's not nothing," Ginny persisted. "You've been different since you came back from Egypt permanently, and I want to know what's bothering you."

"Drop it, Ginny," he said ominously, his grip on his mug approaching threatening levels.

Ginny eyed him curiously, ignoring his tone. She had a hunch about what was making his brother act like such a bear, and she was reckless enough to stir the pot to boiling point.

"So," she began nonchalantly. "How's Fleur?" Ginny watched the most curious of reactions flicker across her brother's face. First, he paled, then he flushed a curious shade of red, then a look of such hatred flashed briefly in his brown eyes, eyes so identical to her own, that made her suck in her breath in surprise, before he masked it again with a look of such indifference it made even Draco's attempts at such an expression seem pitiful. What had happened between her brother and the half-Veela?

"Bill - "

"Enough!" he said firmly. "Fleur and I are not together anymore. End of story. I would appreciate it if you could refrain from mentioning her name again from this day forward!"

Ginny knew her brother; if she kept quiet and stared at him long enough, he would eventually break and tell her what went wrong in their relationship. They had seemed so perfect together; for a while there she had thought Bill was finally ready to settle down. They were together for three years, and then, in her seventh year in Hogwarts, they broke up and Bill had made the move from Egypt to England. All he'd said then was that he and Fleur was a mistake and nothing more.

As expected, Bill was unable to withstand the heavy silence and The Stare.

"Fine!" he hissed fiercely. "You want to know what happened? Okay. Fleur was the worst thing that happened to me. Happy now? I thought she was the one, I thought I'd finally found the woman I could be serious with. Next thing I know, I find her in the arms of another man." He laughed harshly, something Ginny had never before heard him do.

"She claims I was mistaken in what I saw, that Pierre was only trying to offer her comfort. Comfort! Who was she trying to fool? I've done my share of fooling around to know what I was seeing. She won't even be honest enough to tell me when their little fling started." He breathed deeply, his eyes blazing. "I was about to ask that bitch to marry me! How they must have been laughing at me behind their backs. Poor Bill Weasley, thinking somebody like a Delacour would ever take him seriously."

Ginny was stunned. This was the last thing she expected to hear from Bill. Calling to mind her memory of the half-Veela, she found it hard to envision her cheating on her brother. She had been crazy about him, her eyes sparkled whenever she talked about Bill and she was forever touching him, as though half afraid that if part of her was not in contact with him, he would disappear on her. She had found it disgusting, the way they acted with each other, but she would have preferred enduring their disgusting displays of affection to this mutinous wrath her brother was currently wallowing in.

"I'm sorry, Bill," she said quietly. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry."

Bill deflated at once, all the anger draining out of him. "Me too, Gin, me too."

Ginny sought to lighten the mood. "We Weasleys are so unlucky in love, aren't we?" She raised her mug. "Here's hoping Charlie breaks the record. After you and I, Merlin knows he needs all the help he can get to get out from under our shadow."

Despite himself, Bill grinned. "To Charlie and Claire," he toasted, touching his mug to Gin's. "May they find forever in each other's arms."

They grinned at each other over their mugs and fell silent again, each occupied with their thoughts. Almost a decade separated their age, and yet, they had similar problems to deal with. Although one was unaware as of yet that a problem had been in existence for almost two years already, the other was only too aware of the trouble the following months, maybe years, promised to bring.

*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Molly?"

"Tell me we did the right thing."

Silence. The occasional creaking of the rusty old bed was the only sound that could be heard inside the dark room. The couple on the bed, Arthur and Molly Weasley, lay on their backs, wide awake, despite the lateness of the hour. They had spoken little when they had retired to their rooms, each thinking over the events of the evening, each weighed down heavily by the choices they'd made. Now, the dreaded question finally reared its ugly head: Did they do the right thing?

"I don't know, Molly," Arthur finally answered after a lengthy evaluation of the events that took place prior to that night. "I love Ginny, and I want the best thing for her. But did I do right by her?" He sighed. "I can't give you an answer that will ease both our minds."

They lapsed into silence again. It had been a difficult night, and one they never thought would take place in a million years. It was even more difficult to hear how much pain they had brought to three lives because of their decision to spite tradition and society, and elope. There had never been any good feelings between Arthur and Lucius prior to that, but after Molly, all sense of reason became obsolete and the bad blood between them festered for more than two decades, until several months back when they were forced to extend olive branches to each other. They would never be great friends, but the Wizarding world was now big enough for the both of them to co-exist.

"Poor Narcissa," Molly said suddenly into the silence, "I would never wish on anybody what she had to go through. And Draco. That poor boy must have been so unhappy."

Arthur clenched his teeth. "Poor boy or not, I'm still going to pound some sense into that irresponsible brat."

"I doubt he'd just let you do that to him, Arthur," Molly said dryly. She had never been an advocate for violence. "He's more than twenty years your junior, and I imagine, fit as an elephant."

"Then I'll have Bill do it," he answered back cheekily, "he's big enough to scare anybody. That should do it."

"Arthur," Molly said reproachfully.

"What? Just because I've accepted that sooner or later Ginny would have to marry that pureblood hoodlum doesn't mean I've forgotten what he's done to her."

"Arthur!" Molly's tone had turned threatening.

"Fine!" Arthur Weasley relented resentfully. "Fine! Have it your way! I'll leave him alone, but if there is so much as a hint that he's not treating my little girl right, I won't hesitate on setting Bill and the twins on him. See if that won't straighten him out."

Molly was thankful for the dark; her husband didn't need any more encouragement, and if he saw her smile at his threat, he would probably think she wouldn't be averse to ruffling a few of the younger Malfoy's feathers. She was not, in any way, excusing Draco's behavior, but there were too many mitigating circumstances to consider and somehow, she shuddered to think of what Fred and George could come up with to make Draco regret he was ever born with a penis. She didn't think Ginny would appreciate their messing around with the father of her children either, and Molly knew that her daughter could be even more dangerous than the twins when provoked.

"You talk as though they've already gotten back together, Arthur." She could not keep the amusement from creeping into her voice. "It might take years before that happens, and in any case, I don't think your daughter is ready to act on what Lucius said. In fact, I got the distinct feeling that she's not too keen to get Draco involved in their life yet."

Arthur turned to his left side and faced his wife. "Whether it happens tomorrow or ten years from now, it will happen, Molly, I have no doubt about that. It goes against everything I believe in, but I trust Lucius in this."

Molly could well imagine the scowl on her husbands face as he said that, and she could not help but tease him a bit. "So. Are you going to be friends now?"

"Bite your tongue woman!" Arthur said, horrified at the idea. He lay on his back again and laced his fingers over his abdomen. He sighed raggedly. "There's too much history between us for us to get to that point. The best we could probably act around each is civil." He paused and thought about the possibilities. "Will I be able to share a meal with him?" he said after a while. "Probably. Will I be able to confide my innermost thoughts with him?" He snorted. "Hardly. I would sooner boogie with Voldemort than do that. And I bet you he feels exactly the same way about me."

Molly snuggled against her husband's side and draped an arm around him and squeezed. "That's a start, Arthur," she whispered, and tucked her chin on the side of his neck. "That's a good start."

And Arthur Weasley had to agree with his wife; it was a good start. But not verbally, of course.

*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*

Lucius Malfoy gingerly closed the door to his study, careful not to make a noise lest the house elves were alerted of his return. It was quite late, later than he usually stayed out nowadays and he knew Narcissa would not be pleased about it. Add on the fact that he had not informed her of where he had gone off to, she was sure to express her displeasure of his inconsiderate ways.

After the war, Narcissa had made it a point to always know of his whereabouts and had even enlisted the aid of all their house elves in monitoring his activities. It irritated him greatly, but he also understood where her paranoia was coming from; she did not want to see her husband imprisoned once again for suspicious activities, and though she loved him, she was not thoroughly convinced he wouldn't be tempted by the dark side again. Ergo, the not so subtle tailing by nervous house elves. But there were some things that required absolute discretion rather than caution, and though he felt guilty for slipping away from his wife's appointed guards, keeping the knowledge of their grandchildren from her was more important than his well-being.

He made his way towards his desk and settled on his high-backed chair. He leaned his head back and took a long, shaky breath, thinking back on the path he had set out for Draco and Ginevra Weasley. All of what he told Ginny Weasley tonight was true; however, he had lied to her when she asked about breaking her bond with Draco. There was a way of doing it, just one way, but he was going to make sure that he never have to do it. He had taken a lot of risks already concerning Luke and Nicole, he would see to it that all of his sacrifices would not be for naught. The ritual looked to have gone off without a hitch, despite the weakness such a binding ceremony had left him, but there was only one way of making sure that it had worked, and he was heartily afraid of finding out whether he had succeeded or failed.

Steeling his resolve, he picked up a small penknife and pricked his right index finger, then pressed the same finger on the smooth surface of his desk. A hatch appeared in front of him and pressing on it with his right hand, it opened. Inside, a black book with silver edgings was revealed and this he took with reverent hands, barely steady in his mingled excitement and dread. He placed it in front of him, fitted his palm on the front of the book and stated his name firmly. He felt a tingling sensation in his palm and after a moment, pale light appeared for a fraction of a second beneath his palm before fading out. He removed his hand, hesitated only for a moment before opening the book to the latest entry: There, in clear, dark green ink, was written the name Draco Lucien Black Malfoy, and beside his name was that of Ginevra Molly Prewett Weasley, with Luke being named heir after Draco, and Nicole's name neatly written beneath her brother's. But what made him take lungsful of relieved breath was the family names. Finally, after almost one year of waiting, it was done.

He carefully touched the names of his grandchildren; the name change was done and he could finally relax. He had been elated when the names appeared in the book, then his elation turned to worry when time passed and the names remained Weasley. He knew he had to act quickly; there was only a small window of opportunity in which he could change the course of his bloodline, of any bloodline, and he was not going to let his son's stubbornness ruin his life. He knew it would be difficult, but he was prepared to use any means at his disposal to ensure his success. Now, he can rest easy; no matter where the fates take them, Luke's position was set in stone, Draco's acceptance or protestations be damned.

With one last satisfied look, he closed the book and replaced it inside the compartment, traces of its existence vanishing as soon as the hatch was closed. And not a moment too soon as well, for as soon as it did, the door to his study was flung open and in strode his wife, looking anything but pleased to see him. He watched her advance into the room, appreciating the flawlessness of her beauty and form, unblemished by the passing of years. Seemingly, in the twenty years they had been married, Narcissa Malfoy had never looked more beautiful, nor more worried.

He waited for her to reach him and prepared himself for the reprimand due him for his vanishing act this afternoon and evening. And he wasn't mistaken.

"Where have you been? Do you know how worried I was when we couldn't find you all afternoon? I thought something had happened to you! Do you have any idea what it would do to me if something were to happen to you? Do you? Do you? Or don't you care?" And then Narcissa did something she swore she would never do again: she burst into tears.

Like the next man, Lucius didn't know how to deal with a weeping female. But when he saw that his wife was shaking with the force of her emotions, he shot out of his chair and took her in his arms, shushing her like one would a child. She had become his rock these past few years, and to see her now, so broken and lost, left him distinctly rattled.

"Hush now, Cissa, it's all right, I'm all right," he whispered softly, kissing her hair.

"Now you are," she snapped, still sobbing, "but what if you won't be so lucky next time? What then?"

"I'm sorry for worrying you so, but I had to take care of something of the utmost importance today. It was never my intention to upset you."

"Well, I am!" She glared at him, unmindful that her face was wet with her tears. "And what could possibly be so important that you would risk your safety? What were you doing? Not meeting with your former Death Eater friends again! I won't have it, Lucius!"

He laughed despite himself. "I don't think the people I was with today would appreciate you calling them Death Eaters, my dear. No, no," he assured her, "if anything, I spent most of my night among the elite group of Aurors and Ministry officials. I was perfectly safe."

Instead of being reassured, Narcissa looked even more horrified. "Safe! How can you say that! You know they would love nothing more than to see you rotting in Azkaban! What were you thinking? Were you thinking?"

Lucius only smiled at her sheepishly. "Don't worry, Cissa, the people I was with have long gotten over their thirst to squash me like a bug. I doubt Dumbledore would let them even if they do so feel inclined. No, I was perfectly safe."

Narcissa took a deep, calming breath. "Will you tell me where you went off to, at least?"

Lucius shook his head. "Later, Cissa, I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I promise you, the wait will be worth it. No, Cissa," he said resolutely when she started to protest, "I have to let nature take its course, it's the only way. There is nothing I would rather do than share this with you but I know you, you will never be able to keep the knowledge to yourself, so it's better this way, for everybody involved."

Narcissa stared at her husband mutinously. She knew it was hopeless trying to change his mind once he's set his mind into something. All she could do was wait and hope that later would come sooner and that something wasn't going to be the one to bring forth their final downfall.