A Subtle Life

A Subtle Life

--

There were no compromises in his world; I was to discover that fact soon after I met him. I had been attracted to him from the very first minute I saw him. I was crossing a street one way; he went the other. He was many things, really. He was tall, thin - on the verge of skinny actually - he was wearing stark black. His hair was so fair that with just the right glow from the morning winter sun, it looked white as snow.

His features were definitely aristocratic, he had the 'English lord' things going for him - or so one would think, because I always rather thought it was more a matter of poise than simply features. Well, he still had high cheekbones, thin traits, long limbs and an elegant demeanour. In the middle of a popular street, he quite stood out. Button down black shirt, black slacks, black leather shoes. No coat, no bag, nothing obvious in his pockets.

Anyway, his physical appearance revealed more than his social background. He was exhausted. He was walking with the stride of one who is well beyond feeling tired. And, as I brushed past him, he staggered.

I was surprised, so I held out my arm, half in reaction half to keep him from falling on me (he could fall all he wanted, just not on me). He didn't fall, but I caught his arm. He turned to me and looked at me with utter contempt. "Let go," he spat weakly. I obeyed, but my mouth got the better of me. I asked him if he was fine, and the lights were about to turn green for the cars to ignite, and he staggered again. Without thinking, I took his arm again, and pulled him on the sidewalk. He turned green at the same time as the lights.

I would learn later that it was pretty much out of character for him to allow this, but he was in such a bad state and he was so handsome and I so had nothing else to do with my time, that I pulled him in a café, telling him it would give him some time to rest - which he obviously needed.

I talked to him, babbling as I usually do, spitting on people and I even tore some small smiles out of him. I talked and talked, and he listened and didn't even know his name. He was a peculiar character, I knew from the very beginning of our relationship. He looked at me, a hostile shade to his glance at first, and little by little, as I spoke, he looked at me in a more humane way. He had learned to consider me as a human being.

Three days after that, he appeared on my doorstep, a surprising feat since I hadn't told him either my name or the place where I lived. Three days and one hour later, we had consummated our relationship. I'll never know why or how it happened.

Afterwards, I gathered the rest of my clothes, went to the bathroom, and I cleaned myself up. I came back in the living room to see him dressed again. I made coffee, gave him a cup, served myself another one. I sat down in front of him. And then, we had the very first discussion of our couple. "I am a wizard."

"And I am a witch," I deadpanned. He looked at me as if I was acting stupid, which I certainly was. So I felt the need to explain. "I can make wicked coffee." He put down his cup, looked at me in the eyes, and drew a stick out of his pocket. And he transformed the pot of coffee in a white red-eyed rat. The thing squeaked, ran off the table, and fell on the floor. And once it was on the floor, it turned back into a coffee pot.

I was beside myself with astonishment. "This is awesome! I mean- wow, I wish I could do that! I mean, I can't do it, can I? Can you do other kind of stuff? How long have you been able to do it?" He seemed to be somewhat taken aback that I reacted so well. And that, cher public, was the beginning of our relationship. Nothing as darkly romantic as you expected, isn't it?

--

One year later, I still knew very little of him. I mean, I knew all his little quirks, the things he liked and those he disliked, but I knew precious little things about him. He was from a great line of wizards, he was an orphan, he was deemed powerful in his world, and he was not known for his easygoing ways. His name was Draco Malfoy.

I knew nothing of his implication in the latest war, I knew nothing of this pureblood shit, his arranged marriage to Pansy Parkinson, his lifelong hatred of Harry Potter, and his indecent wealth. I was about to discover it. Poor, oh poor me.

One year later, we were regular fuck friends. I know the term is not exactly pretty, but it did fit our situation. We had sex, and we got along pretty well, both in our stormy kind of way. I had taught him everything about cell phones and computers, and he didn't like computers so well, but saw the interest on having a cell phone. Especially when it was the only way to reach me.

He phoned me, whenever he wanted to see me, and we met each other either at my place or at a hotel - which he always paid for, because I had very little money. Let me give you, cher public, my favourite example of one of those times we spent together.

I was having coffee at a Starbucks - yes, there are those in Paris too - with my friend from Marseille, when my phone rang. I smiled, seeing his ID on the screen, said I was sorry to my friend, and I said to my koibito: "It's been a long time."

I heard him laugh in the phone, we seemed to be doing that a lot when we were together. Laughing, I mean. "Oh yes, it has. At least three months." And indeed, we hadn't seen much of each other in a while. I was realizing I had missed him. "How would you feel about going to the restaurant tonight?"

I smiled from ear to ear. "It would be an honour for me to share a meal with you."

"Good. You should dress up, though. What you've got on right now is very nice, but not fitting for the place. I'm told it's rather classy." I looked down at myself, pretty unaware of what I had on, and saw a slutty cleavage and very, very tight jeans. Since I was with him, I had lost a lot of weight and allowed myself much more than I had before - however my clothes were still exclusively black.

"Are you stalking me?" His laughter was warm in my ears.

"Be at the statue in two hours. Oh, and by the way, you look downright edible." And the call was over before I could answer back. I was amused that he would look at me from afar, hidden. I thought it was rather cute.

So I told my friend about the call, telling her I had to leave, and apologizing for it, but she only smiled and said: "When it's him, you drop everything else. I'm getting used to it - and don't worry about me." I smiled, paid for my coffee, and left, almost running. I wanted to phone him and say I knew he was watching me, and it felt so exciting, but I knew that once he had set the plans, I couldn't phone him at all, because he would not take the call.

So I went to take the metro, and went to my place, checking that it was clean and nice because maybe we would be going there after the restaurant, and got ready for the evening. A normal girl would have found impossible to be ready in less than two hours (count the travel time), but I never was normal. I only took a quick shower, tied my hair, put on clean clothes - a black elegant top, black skinny jeans (but those were much less slutty than the others), and nice earrings. I put nice shoes on, and I was gone.

I made it ten minutes before the time and he was already there. The Statue. It is the statue of Charles de Gaulle standing down the Champs Elysées. Not exactly our kind of place but it helped that it wasn't the more famous of Parisian Statues. No one else liked to meet there. It was our place and ours alone.

He was very handsome that day, perhaps even handsomer than usual. He wore black slacks, leather shoes, and a stark white button-down shirt. Those clothes were more relaxed than usual. He gave me a peck on the lips, not exactly the warmest welcome, and I hid my disappointment. And he took my hand, and pulled me behind him without a word. I thought we were going to the restaurant, so I didn't say anything, but instead, he pushed me in an empty street, and pushed me against a door. It would have been spooky if I didn't think I knew him.

"All right, I'm doing this now, and I don't want an answer right now. If I don't do it now, you will know that something is wrong with me and it will spoil a perfectly good meal for the both of us. And if you answer now, it will most probably spoil that meal too. Okay?"

I smiled. "Ask away, yeh foul creature." He looked wearily at the floor, slightly disgusted that it wasn't as clean as he wished. Then he put a knee on the floor and took a little box out of his pocket. He was about to speak when I said: "You're going to ask me to marry you?"

He glared at me. "The longer I stay on my knee, the more chances there are that I will ruin my pants. And those are indecently expensive." He sighed, mockingly desperate. "You are not being very romantic."

"And I'm really supposed not to answer, right?" He glared at me again, and I smiled at him, feeling incredible warmth in my heart from his proposal. I would never have expected that, certainly not, and I felt moved that he would ask me. Even though I was sure there were ulterior motives to it. I smiled again, and knelt in front of him, making sure I was not dirtying my clothes either, and I took the box from his hands.

Inside, there was a ring. How inventive, I almost said, but the ring was something I didn't expect. It looked like glass. Transparent glass. But it didn't feel like glass. It didn't feel like anything, actually. And inside the glass tube, which was really tiny, there was a small silver dragon. And it ran and flew in the tube. It was... "Do you like it? I charmed it for you. I know you don't like to wear rings, but it is charmed so you won't feel it."

I was not able to say anything to thank him, so I merely leaned over, embraced him, and kissed him like he deserved. When our hair was slightly mussed, when our lips were slightly swollen, and when our eyes were kind of glassy, we stood up, and I put the ring on my finger. It was a little too big, but it shrunk around my finger, so it fit perfectly. "I know you don't want me to answer right now, but I really, really have to. I am surprised, honoured, and consenting."

He smiled and that smile meant something, chers amis, that smile meant tenderness. He took my hand again, and he whispered: "Let's go eat, then."

--

We were fiancés; we wouldn't get married in a while. One or two years, we had both decided. It was a matter of common sense as much as it was a request from our families - well, mine: he was an orphan - that we wait, that we didn't know each other so well... I wasn't sure we were in love. All I knew was there was incredible physical harmony (guess what it means in sexual vocabulary), and I knew that we expected mostly the same in life, so we could head in the same direction. If love wasn't there, at least respect and mutual affection was, which was more than most marriages to begin with.

So he invited me, for the very first time, into his place. In the wizarding world. I was freaked out.

He came to my place, I would stay for a month with him in his world (for my parents he was a sound engineer), so I had packed a luggage. I didn't know how we would get there, but I wasn't worried. There must be a way. I was ready when he knocked on the door.

"Hey." He kissed me on the hand. Then on the lips. Sure enough, he would show care during our entire wedding, would it be only for social status. "You're ready, I expect." A little blunt, that, but I knew him. So I nodded and showed him my luggage. He took out his wand (I was so not getting used to that) and my luggage shrunk to the size of a pack of cigarettes. He put it in his pocket, while my mouth hung open, and he took my hand. "All right, don't worry, this is only uncomfortable the five hundred first times." I wanted to laugh nervously, but there was a loud Crack and everything spun around me. I wanted to throw up, but thankfully I didn't, and I opened my eyes to find myself in the middle of a stupendous garden.

Fountains, patches of grass, roses of all kinds, trees and wooden benches... The garden was the most beautiful I had ever seen. And I had seen lots of them. "This is..."

"Yes, I know. I love it, too." He smiled, and pulled me behind him. "Come."

I followed him through that garden, vowing I would spend time there, so beautiful it was, so enchanting it felt. I thought I had seen tiny pixies floating around the roses, but I couldn't say for sure. And then, we were suddenly in front of a large mansion. Wide, gothic, yet ethereal, the mansion was spooky, definitely scary. I liked the garden better. "You didn't tell me you lived in a castle."

"I told you I was loaded. Since my parents' death, I am the sole owner of all this... And soon, you will own it with me." I hadn't realized that, and it scared me. Still holding my hand, he pulled me inside the house. It was a fucking palace! The entrance was a great hall filled with floating candles, with a huge marble staircase and moving portraits. After the enchanting garden, the haunted house.

I turned the ring around my finger, absentmindedly. I was beside myself with a mixture of excitement and fear. He pulled me behind him and opened a door. I had no other choice than to follow him.

It was a huge living room with a massive fireplace, and I instantly hated it. Draco leaned over next to me and whispered unnecessarily: "This room reeks of dead people. There are corpses all over the place. You don't see them, but I saw some of them die, you know. I don't like it, but we can't do without the Manor." I was about to ask why when the fireplace let out a blunt wisp of green powder and light, and someone came stumbling out of the fireplace. I realized I was screaming when Draco put his hand soothingly over my arm.

Then, I looked at him and I noticed he was positively seething with anger. I had never seen him that way - I had the sudden feeling that I didn't know him at all. "Potter," he spat, "what are you doing uninvited in my place?"

"I heard you were back." The other man was about the same age, with unruly hazel hair and round glasses. He had the strangest scar on his forehead, in the shape of a thunderbolt. "I...Nice to meet you, Miss. I apologize if I'm intruding. My name is Harry Potter." And he held out his hand to me.

I shook it silently, feeling Draco disapproving with all his heart. I was about to say my name when Draco stepped in front of me, his wand drawn. "This is my fiancée, Potter. What do you want?" Harry Potter's eyes widened as Draco told him who I was, and I was still slightly hyperventilating, and wondering where the fuck I was.

"Malfoy, I only came to tell you that the Ministry is giving you back all of your properties. There are some papers you need to sign, of course, but... Well, everything is yours again. I also wanted to tell you, on a more personal level, that there are people who do not see with a good eye that you are returning. That you should have remained officially dead a while longer." What the fuck is he talking about? Why do I feel danger? What does this mean?

"Potter, you've now officially spooked my fiancée."

They glared at each other. "Then maybe you should have told her who you are. Miss, by associating with the Malfoy name, you must know that you are potentially in grave danger."

"Get out, Potter!" Draco was furious.

I stepped back. Potter kept on talking. "And even a dark wizard may not be able to protect you from thousands of self-righteous wizards who've lost half of their family thanks to Malfoy's father and his friends."

"GET OUT!" Draco was going to do something with his wand, I knew it, he was losing control, losing the poise, and Potter had his wand out too, and I really didn't want to see wizards fight with a wand. I thought it could really get nasty.

So I stepped in front of Draco, and stood between him and Potter. "Mister Potter, I am sure you mean well. However, I do believe that you are indeed trespassing and that the owner of this place does not want you here." I stepped closer to Potter. "Is what you want to tell me really so important?"

"Nour, I don't like the way this is going."

I whirled around and looked at Draco. "Neither do I. But I'm sure we agree that I have to make my own choices. There is something important that I'm missing here, and I trust that you will tell me your side of the story, right?" He nodded. "However, it looks like this thing is big, and I will be confronted to other people sooner or later." I stepped closer to him and I stroke his cheek, softly. I whispered to him, only to him: "Shouldn't your wife be someone who can fend off for herself? I don't want to depend on you, Draco."

He nodded, and this nod was everything I needed to know.

I walked back to Potter. "Would it be possible that we meet, only you and me, and you will tell me everything that you believe I should know?"

Potter looked frozen with shock. Then, he closed his mouth and nodded. "Just Apparate whenever in the Ministry and ask for me. I'll make time instantly." I nodded, having no idea of what he was talking about.

Then, I added, for good measure: "Thank you, Mister Potter. I believe I will see you tomorrow, if that is fine with you." He nodded, and with a curt nod to Draco, he went into the fireplace, and threw powder, saying something strange, and he vanished in thin air.

Draco breathed nervously. He put his wand back into his pocket, and looked at me with the purest of eyes. "You will make the finest Milady Malfoy this castle has ever seen." Somehow, I got the feeling that this was even harder to say on his part than an 'I love you' which I hadn't either heard or said, anyway.

--

I had asked him to show me the bedroom and I had jumped on him as soon as we were there. That, I knew how to do; that, wizards didn't do differently. It was so intense that we both fell asleep right after, naked, in each other's arms.

I opened my eyes to the soft sound of talking, and almost screamed. Right in front of me, there was a small, wrinkly, greyish humanoid creature. Draco's voice came out, muffled by the pillow. "It's all right, that's a house-elf." I was on the verge of being very sarcastic. Oh, yes, a house-elf, sorry for wondering, what was I thinking, silly me!

And the creature spoke to me. "Yes, Miss, I Bitsy, Miss, I house-elf. Is Miss wanting something? Drink? Food?" I shook my head, as Draco mumbled: "Bitsy, Marine is my fiancée, she will be my wife; you must call her Mistress. Go away."

The house-elf nodded respectfully, bowed to me, and left the room. I turned to Draco. "I'm not big on virtues, Draco, but that house-elf just saw the both of us naked and covered in body fluids." That made him open his eyes.

"You feel uncomfortable about that?"

I sniggered. "Well, certainly not about the body fluids. But about the exterior presence, I mean, it's not human, is it? I don't feel so great about it. In fact, I don't feel so good about a lot of things. Can I tell you exactly what's on my mind?"

He laughed without joy. "Like you need my permission..." He turned around, lay on his back, and looked at me. He would not be helping me the slightest. "Go on."

I nodded, and I lay my head on his stomach, so I wouldn't have to look at him. In front of my eyes was his thigh, and I gently caressed it with the tip of my fingers as I was speaking. The hair there was light, so light that I had to be in this position to see it. "I love the garden. It's wonderful. It gives out a feeling of...I don't know. Cocoon. Yes, it's like a cocoon. The house is much spookier, and with what Potter said, I am getting scared. Honest. I don't think you're a crook or anything - and even if you are, I don't exactly care - but I'm scared that he's told the truth, and that I'm really in danger." I snort. "And I keep freaking out... Are things and people going to appear all the time?" He says nothing. "I mean, I'm afraid that I'm not up to this. But I also know, deep inside, that you'll never live anywhere else."

"Yes. Did I tell you that?" I shook my head. "All right, then, you deserve the story. I give you the great lines and you will have the details later, all right?" I nodded. "Imagine that there are pureblood wizards. They only have wizard's blood in their veins. Well, the Dark Lord wanted all wizards to be purebloods. A kind of wizard Hitler, if you see what I mean. My parents rooted for him, and so did I." He sighed. "I was a child. Well, there was a war a few years ago. Then Potter killed the Dark Lord. Amongst the war casualties were my father, and my mother. We had lost the war. The Ministry seized all of our belongings. I fled."

"So that's how your parents died... Where did you go? France?"

"No, France is commonly Dark."

"Dark?" That would not be a good sign, but one never knows.

"The Dark Arts is a type of magic which is highly illegal. My parents, of course, taught me about them. So I am deemed a Dark wizard. You know, Potter was right. People don't exactly like me, around here."

"Maybe if you stripped more often, the ladies at least would be less severe... But where did you go when you fled?" I was trying to rid the atmosphere of its serious tones, but I knew it wasn't appropriate.

"America. I lived there for a while, and learnt about the Muggle way of life. But some people recognized me, tried to kill me, and I Apparated in Paris. Maybe because I had been there as a child... Well, this is when I met you."

I moved myself until I lay on his stomach, and I kissed him softly. "Now, Potter may be right, and I may be in danger because of who you are. Are you still in danger?" He nodded. I wanted to ask him if he would have told me about this danger had Potter not come, but I knew him enough not to. "You must share at least some of your parents' beliefs... Why are you marrying me? I am, after all, one of the farthest persons you must have expected for yourself."

"But I have changed, Nour."

"Have you?" I knew him enough to wonder whether he loves me or he wants everybody to believe he has changed, and doesn't hold true to his parents' beliefs.

He didn't like the implication, and sat up. I kind of fell down as he did. And I sat up too. "Why do you question me so upon something Potter said? You haven't even known him for an hour!" He was getting angry.

"Draco. I am going to marry you. You try to scare me off of doing it, yet you're the one who asked me. And then, you can't take it when I almost disagree with you, whereas I downright contradicted you in front of Potter and you didn't say anything about it. What is wrong with you? You act like you're scared!"

He sighed. "I may not be able to protect you." Oh. Oh, so that was it, it was the typical male attitude, at last. If he couldn't protect me then he wouldn't be worth me. I got it.

"Maybe I won't even need protection. We'll see, okay? We spend the month here just like we said we would, we slowly get ready for the marriage, we make social calls to get you back on tracks here, and then we'll see if I need to be provided with protection."

"Make social calls?" He smiled. "You talk like my grandmother." Then, he let out a nice laugh, and held me in his arms. That evening was to be spent in tenderness, while he told me everything I should know about him, as he told me about his parents' death. And he even had blurry eyes when he told me he had killed before.

--

The next day, then, we met with a tailor who made robes for me. And no, wizard robes didn't look exactly like what I had in mind when Draco had first said the name. They were black, long and wide around the legs - that's for sure - tight around the waist and the breasts, and the collar was barely covering my shoulders. A large belt held my stomach, underlined its soft curve, and on top of that, an ankle long jacket, of the same fabric, buttoned itself with thousands of small buttons. All of it was deep black, except the belt, which was silvery. This garment was incredibly feminine.

We left the tailor, I kept the robes on. It was important to keep up the appearances. Draco whispered in my ear: "You are so incredibly sexy with robes on..." I smiled at him. "Remember, we say to very little people about you." I nodded. This had actually been my idea. If we wanted everyone to talk about the fact that I was a Muggle, then maybe we shouldn't decide to flaunt the fact. They were going to talk anyway, because I would be going to make mistakes.

In the Ministry, I talked to Harry Potter as Draco signed all the papers about his belongings. When we were done, Potter was invited over at the Mansion for tea in a few days (both him and Draco were angry about it, but I was going to be the woman of the house, not either of them), and Draco was billionaire. It seemed his money had been capitalized while he'd been gone.

After that, we went to the library, because I had told Draco I wanted to, and he wad wanted to spoil me. I almost got killed by half of the books, but at the end, I was finding it funny that Draco had to rescue me. He was close to enjoying himself as much as I was, too. And then I was wandering in a corridor, not worrying that he was not very close to me. And suddenly five grown men with wands glared at me. "And who are you? You know who this is you're hanging out with, right?"

"Yes, I do." I didn't really know what else to answer. And deep in my brains, something evil told me that if I was mugged by those people, then maybe it would give Draco the public image of a victim. However, if he came not in time to rescue me, or if he got so angry that he killed someone, then we would be in trouble. Furthermore, I was scared like shit.

"You're a friend of Malfoy's, yeah? You're into that pureblood shit just like him, yeah?"

"Listen, I don't know what you're talking about." I would kill so I could see Draco's snowy hair and steely eyes. If I didn't, they would kill me first.

"Don't look at her in the eyes, man, she's pro'lly a master of the Dark Arts. She's gonna bust your ass to the seventh hell."

"Yeh, really? I'd like to see that!" Things were getting bad.

And then, one of them, one who looked shy, took out his wand and said a strange word. I fell back, all of my muscles had stopped responding to me. But I was still pretty much aware. "Good show man! She didn't have time to go for her wand!" I don't have one, bastards! I wanted to scream. I wanted Draco. I wanted safety. I had no idea of what they could do to me, and my imagination was running wild. They had power, I was nothing in front of them.

I felt hands on my body searching my pockets, finding my purse, but no wand. They started wondering where was my wand, I heard them talking about something called Ollivander, and then one of them said another spell, and I saw a blue light hover over my head. "She's a Muggle!" And you're an idiot!

"What's a Muggle doing with Malfoy?" Ask me, you gits. I'll flip you off so fast you'll not be able to call your mommy.

They threw another spell my way, and suddenly my body could work again. I coughed, I had bruises all over my back, because I had fallen over a bookshelf. I stood up, and I said, calmly, darkly, coldly: "The only people who have hurt me since I have come to this world are the people who say Draco Malfoy is a violent, evil bastard. Give me back my purse."

"Oy, watch your tongue, Muggle!" I held out my hand. I was so angry that I didn't think to feel scared again. They all had their wands out and I didn't care. I was going to kick them in the ass if they didn't give me back my stuff right now. I was really going to do it.

And then, one of the wizards had the tip of a wand right under his chin, and a deadly voice was saying: "Give her back the purse. Now." Draco! I almost whooped with joy and relief. As the man was obediently holding out the purse for me to take back, Draco looked at me in the eyes, and I could see his concern. "Are you all right?" I was impressed to see that all those scary wizards were trembling before him.

"Yes, I think so. They didn't have the time to hurt me. They only did this thing, and I couldn't feel my body anymore."

"That's called Stupefying." He turned to the men, who hadn't dared leave. "Finnigan, Thomas, Edison, O'Reilly and Bones. I'll remember. You try hurting my fiancée in any way again, and you will see what a Dark wizard can do when he's angry." And then, with majestic gestures, he held out his hand to me, and finished: "Coming?"

I nodded, walked past the astonished wizards, and he took my hand, firmly, and his was not sweating like mine was, and we left the library. Once we were out, I stopped walking, and Draco turned to me. I was trembling. I reached for him, and he embraced me. I said, softly, in his ear, not caring in the least that people were staring: "I was scared like I've never been scared in my entire life."

He held me out against him, strongly, manly, and then he held me out, and smiled. "You did good." He took my hand again, and added: "I think we're done for the day, all right?" I nodded, and we Disapparated. As soon as we were home, we jumped on each other, tore our clothes off (well, not exactly, because mine were new and his were expensive), and had mad sex.

--

A week later, I was already feeling much better about this whole dark wizard thing. It had helped that every time Draco had gone out, I had been staying home, mostly in the garden with a pack of cigarettes and a good book. I knew, however, that this wouldn't be the case all the time, that I couldn't stay cooped up in the house, even though I was scared there might be a repetition of that last time's disaster. The house elves even didn't let me do anything in the house, I would grow insane if I stayed here and did only that. I mean, 'if I kept doing nothing'.

I was in that garden, laying on the grass, where I felt safe, and a little pixie (I knew I hadn't been hallucinating) played with my hair, when Draco came in. Why was it that every time I saw him I got a jolt inside, telling me how handsome and how wonderful, and how sarcastic...and how Draco he was. And boy, could he look handsome in robes... He looked somewhat evil, but still impressive and... "Hey."

"My lady..." He kissed my hand, but his lips didn't touch the skin... A true gentleman. "How was your day?" I sat up, more than happy to see him.

"Like the lazy day of an idle woman. I need to do something or I will kill you. And you don't want to die, do you?" He laughed, sat in front of me; I could see he held the newspapers in his hands, amongst other things. I wondered what the rest was.

"How many cups of coffee have you drunk?" I looked down in shame. I hadn't kept count, and I certainly was not going to tell him that it was probably something around twenty. He shook his head, and kissed me sensually. Yeah, cher public, I have to say something about his kisses. I had noticed that early on, that every 'hello' kiss that he gave me held a different meaning and told me everything I needed to know about his mood. There was the 'I want to fuck you right now' kiss. There was the 'don't talk to me I'm feeling bitchy' kiss. There was the 'please give me a hug' kiss, and there was the sensual kiss. That one said he would be the perfect gentleman, the perfect lovable future husband. That one made me melt.

He laid his head on my stomach, gently, and I entangled my fingers in his hair. "I know that your wife is not supposed to work...Am I right?" He looked up at me, mirth in his eyes. He gave me a small smile.

"You're still going to marry me?" I hit him on the head. "Ow! Oh, all right, I get it!"

"I'd like to get a job. Don't they need Muggles to talk about their world to the young wizards?" He sat up, honestly thinking about what I was suggesting.

"I think it would be a good idea. There's a teacher of Muggle Studies in Hogwarts, but you don't know enough of the wizarding world yet... If you want to, I can ask whether they would hire you as an assistant." I don't like the idea of him asking for me, but I know he needs to be in control, at least a little, and I'm wise enough to know when I don't know enough to be able to fend of for myself. I nodded, and he smiled. Then, he took out one of the things he held in his hands and held it out to me.

"What's that?" I opened it as he answered the question, as a small smile twigged his lips.

"An invitation. Tomorrow night, we're invited to a reception... Remember what you said about making social calls? Feel ready to do it?" As he said that, I was instantly afraid. Making social calls? Was I really ready to make do in that world? As soon as tomorrow night? Well, I had no doubts that my prestigious fiancé would protect me. Knowing him, he would not let me out of his sight. Not because he wanted to protect me, but because he was possessive. Yes, I know what you think, cher public. Possessive is a bad thing.

Well, I don't necessarily agree with that. I mean, possessiveness is deemed as something a modern woman shouldn't put up with, but in my case, I know too much my fiancé to misunderstand what it means in his mind. Draco Malfoy is someone who takes pride in his belonging. And for him, to take pride in me, enough of it to show me off in his world, to his peers, as a precious jewel, showed just how much he prized me. And his possessiveness was just some kind of protectiveness.

Now, all I had to do was to show him where the line he must not cross was. "I would be glad to go."

--

A tailor had come home for the occasion. Home, I already called that wretched manor 'home'. So, the tailor had measured us, and I had chosen from a catalogue the type of dress I wanted, and I had modified it the way I wanted. Draco had told me I could ask for whatever I wanted, and that the man was sure enough that he would tell me if something was not socially acceptable. My fiancé, too, had been measured and dressed up like a doll - something I found great fun in. I wanted to take pictures, but he didn't agree with that. He told me that a camera wouldn't work in the manor, because electricity interfered with magic, so I had to drop the idea. Then, the tailor left us so he could spell the clothes in his workshop, and I made café for Draco and I.

We sat side by side, on the big couch of the living room, I stretched my legs over his thighs and he absent-mindedly stroked my knees. There was a warm fire heating the entire room. Draco unfurled his newspapers and read lazily as I was humming softly an old French song. "Draco?"

He didn't look up. The mood was one of tenderness, warmth and comfort. "Hmm?"

"Do you think we'll make it?" Yeah, I was that kind of girls, who asked deep, unanswerable questions in the middle of relaxed moments. So? I have a vagina. Sue me.

To his credit, he still didn't look up, but a smile tugged the corners of his lips. "I think so. Do you?"

"Hmm." I closed my eyes, and rested my head on the elbow of the couch. I observed the ceiling for a while, and then I heard a rustle of paper, the newspaper had been put down. Draco moved on the side, and nestled himself between my legs. I looked up at him. He was smiling at me, one of those true smiles only I got to see. He put a small kiss on my cheek. And then, he seemed to think better of it, and he kissed me fully on the lips. It was a long, slow, languorous kiss, which left the both of us panting.

I looked into his eyes, and I said: "Draco?" He smirked at me, knowing fully the effect those evil smiles had on me. "Shit." I reached for his shirt and unbutton it. You know, cher public, when I was younger, we used to play that game, about the one who would be fastest at unbuttoning a man's shirt. Well, that day I broke all records. And then, right above my hand, there was his smooth skin, his toned stomach, and the skin moved as he breathed, and suddenly a thought popped into my mind: I want a child with this man. And I stared at him in the eyes. "This is going to work."

He would have nodded if he wasn't so busy trying to pull my shirt over my head. Soon getting annoyed with his failure, he groaned at me, and I complied by getting it off by myself. Then I wrapped my arms around him, and suddenly, we didn't think about anything anymore. As soon as our skins were connected, things disappeared from our memories.

I opened my eyes to the feeling of a warm body over mine. He was lying all over me, holding me close to him, my skin still tingled with the touch of his hands, of his lips. The fire still burned in the fireplace - yay for magic - and a house-elf was staring at us. I almost yelped, and then I thought, well, at least, he's staring at Draco's ass, he can't see any part of me. On second thoughts, I didn't like the idea of anyone staring at my fiancé's very fine bottom. "Bitsy, can I help you?"

"Bitsy very sorry, Mistress, but tailor-sir is here with robes. Very, very sorry." And the house-elf turned back to leave.

"Bitsy? Tell the tailor that I'll be here in a few minutes; make some tea for him. Or coffee. Whatever he wants." The creature turned around. Remembering something Draco had mentioned before, I added: "Don't iron your hands, don't punish yourself. You didn't do anything bad." Bitsy nodded and left the room.

Then, I tugged at Draco's arm, not wanting to disentangle myself from him but knowing we couldn't stay like this for ever. "Don't wanna move..." I smiled. When he was talking like that, it meant he could stay lying on me for hours. "You're comfy." That statement was so unexpected and so unlike him that I laughed. It moved my stomach and achieved in waking him up. He looked up, his eyes glazy, and unfocused, and gave me a peck. "What's happening?"

"The tailor is waiting for us." He stood up instantly, and started looking for his clothes. And I wasn't moving. I was looking at him with that kind of look. And he stopped, and looked at me, and didn't even blush - he turned around so I could see all of him, an impressive specimen of the male genre. "Draco? I think we just conceived a child."

Everything stopped. Why had I said that? Why did I feel that it was true? He tilted his head and grabbed his wand. He muttered some spell, pointing it at me, and then he looked - if possible for him - utterly flabbergasted. "How on earth did you know?"

"I am pregnant?" My eyes widened. "Draco, I'm scaring myself."

He looked at the left, and then he looked at his right. It seemed he, himself, didn't know what to do then. So I stood up and gathered my clothes, putting them on as fast as possible. "Well, now is not the time to worry about this." He seemed grateful that I would see things this way.

So we dressed up, still shaken by what I had said, and we both checked that the other looked fine, and we headed for the blue living room where the tailor as enjoying a cup of tea. As soon as we entered the room, he stood up and bowed to the both of us. I was about to bow back, but Draco who had been expecting it grabbed my arm and made me stand straight.

Then, the wizard gave us our clothes, ensuring us that it was exactly what we wanted. Draco paid him, we thanked him, he bowed again, and he left. But before leaving he said to Draco that very strange sentence: "Lord Malfoy, your fiancée exceeds the expectations of the higher society. Let it be known that the future Milady Malfoy will give a new life to the Mansion your beloved mother reigned over." I had to think long and hard about the sentence to understand it, and I thought I was too bizarre a compliment to be truly one.

I wanted to ask Draco what he meant, but he gave me a short smile and said: "I'm getting ready, and you should do the same. We're leaving in one hour." I nodded and got upstairs to the second bathroom to get ready.

The manor had been conceived so that the lord and lady of the castle wouldn't have to share a room. We didn't do that, of course. It had taken some explaining for Draco to understand my point of view, but there was only one piece of comfort I agreed to, it was the separate bathrooms. Ah, the pleasure of having this room only for yourself, for your own private use! And the pleasure of being surprised by the other in the shower was that much unexpected.

So I got a thorough soak, washed and waxed and scrubbed and powdered every bleeding inch of my body. Then, I took out some very interesting underwear. Thighs and black lace. Of course. They were the most beautiful I had ever worn. And I knew what I wanted to do with those - I had panned that for a while. You will see, cher public.

Then, I put on the dress. It was stupendous; I had known it would be. It was entirely black, sewn with simple silver silk ribbons, and it left my back completely nude. I raised my hair onto my neck and tied it empire-like, and I was ready. Draco had told me the service of a hairdresser could be required, but I had shown him I was perfectly able to do something with my hair when I had both enough time and the will to do it.

I put slight make up on my eyes, and discreet earrings, and I was ready to go. I went out of the bathroom, and into the room to get my coat, knowing that Draco would most likely be already ready, and I had not been wrong. He sat in a seventeenth century emerald green chair, wearing magnificent black robes.

Gods, but he looked so fine! Acres and acres, and they were all mine, cher public! He looked so refined, so elegant, and yet, so manly... His hair was groomed backwards, the kind of thing I thought I wouldn't like on him but it underlined his pointy chin and severe lips. Moreover, it highlighted his piercing eyes, made even more glowing by the discovered parts of his face. I wasn't sure that sentence meant anything at all, but it truly made sense before I wrote it, cher public. I was in love with that man. And even if I started predicting that I was pregnant, then so be it. I was in love with that odious character.

And I was so in love that I hadn't noticed he was watching me with the same look that was most likely painted onto my face. He hadn't known what my dress would look like, and it seemed he approved. And for the first time in my life, I was looked at like the most precious thing in the world. And I knew with certainty that he loved me, too. So I walked up to him, and I said: "There is something I want you to know, Draco."

He shook his head, as if trying to get himself out of a very pleasant dream. "Yes, dear?" It was the first time he called me anything but my name. And I found, to my intense surprise, that I liked it. In any other man's voice it would have sounded like a conventional endearment; in Draco's voice it was the insurance that I was his legally lawfully-bonded fiancée and future wife, even though I was a Muggle.

I took his hand in mine, and I guided it to my waist. Then, I slowly guided it down my thigh, until he could feel under the thin fabric what exactly was under the dress. His eyes widened. "I'm sure we must go to the party right now."

"You are an evil and malevolent creature." I smirked. That was rich, coming from a dark wizard, murderer and fugitive in his time. "What colour?" I almost laughed. He was caught. My trap had worked. I truly was evil.

"Black, of course." I stood up, and he stood behind me. I was leaving the room, it was high time to go, and I turned to him and added, for good measure: "Oh, and it's silk lace." I was very rarely wearing those kinds of things, so I knew exactly what effect it would have on him. Most assuredly, he would picture me wearing only those during most of the evening, and it would drive him insane.

We got in a coach, which had been expecting us in front of the Mansion. We settled inside, and I thought this was really like an old novel from Jane Austen. As the coach drove, I gave a small smile as Draco tried anything to think of something else than my undergarments. "This coach is travelling laterally through places. The place we're going to this evening is in Scotland, and I don't know if you've noticed, but the Manor is in Sweden. We'll be there in half an hour."

Because I had no mercy, I leaned next to him, and I rested my head over his shoulder. His corporeal temperature was ten times what it was usually was as his arm came to embrace me. I closed my eyes; I felt as much desire as he did, but I could hide it much better. "Draco? Can we talk about this pregnancy thing?" I didn't want to, and he didn't want to, but we knew this half hour was the time to talk about serious things. We couldn't mess up our clothing by humping each other like bunnies anyway...

"You are pregnant with my child, and the spell said it would be a boy. Wizards don't get abortions, but if you're not ready, I'd understand that you would." There was remorse in his voice, and I knew the idea of an abortion was bad to him.

"But a boy would be your heir, right? And it's important that you have one, right?" I felt him nod. "And I'm planning on having children. Not so soon, but... I'm not going anywhere else. Would a child stop me from working?" He seemed moved that I would consider keeping the child.

"Well no, of course not. You know, my mother gave birth to me, and after that, it was a nanny who took care of me." He seemed thoughtful. "I don't remember much of her. The point is, you do whatever you want."

I smiled and I closed my eyes. "I'll take care of him. Could we name him Samuel? I always wanted my first child to be called Samuel. Call it the dream of a little girl." He held me tighter, closer to him, and he planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Only if you agree that his second name should be Sorcha." I closed my eyes. And he whispered in my ear: "Samuel Sorcha Malfoy... It sounds good, don't you think?"

I laughed softly. "Yes, it does. Tell me, Draco, what does this pregnancy means? Socially speaking, physically speaking, anything that I should know?"

"Well, as far as I know the pregnancy and birthing are pretty much the same than in the Muggle world. Nine months, strawberry cravings, mood-swings, pains in the stomach..."

"You seem to know a lot about it."

"Knowledge is power." We laughed together, and I wondered idly how my stomach would feel in a few months' time. "It means, however, that you will see a mediwizard, and not a doctor. The baby is most probably magical, and there could be side effects a Muggle doctor wouldn't know how to treat. And it also means that we will have to get married sooner than expected. A Malfoy child cannot be born out of wedlock."

"I understand. Isn't it a little bit old people's thinking, though?"

"No, you don't understand. If a child of the great families is born out of wedlock, and someone manages to kill the baby in the five first years of his life, then his blood will be the most powerful ingredient to many dark potions. If he is born legally, then touching him would bring nothing." I must have looked positively horrified, because he smiled gently. "I won't let anything happen to you or the child. Samuel."

"Samuel Sorcha Malfoy, son to Draco Lucius Malfoy and Nour Lucie Rivière. This sounds very nice." Yes, very nice indeed, with all those references to the light. Sorcha meant light in celtic, Nour meant light in Arabic, Lucie and Lucius both were derivatives of the word 'light' in roman... Our child would start his life with good omens.

The coach had stopped. I wiped the worried look from my face, and waited for the coach to open Draco's door. Then Draco turned around the coach, and opened my door. He had told me that those were the usual proceedings. I had nodded but I hadn't precised that I didn't see myself abiding by those during my entire life. Well, he would discover that all by himself.

He held out his wrist and I rested my hand over it. I wasn't expecting all the photographers and journalists, but I was so confident that we were a splendid couple that I must have glowed on the pictures. We walked to the stairs before a big Manor - not as big as the Mansion. And up the stairs, there were butlers bowing before us. "Lord Malfoy and fiancée." A man took my coat, another took Draco's coat, people were dancing around us just like in a Jane Austen movie, and Draco looked freakishly used to it.

"Draco! It has been a very long time!" A man came to us, very elegantly dressed as well, very handsome but not half as much as Draco. He had dark hair, brown eyes and cold features. His mouth was a little too big for my taste. Draco and the man shook hands, and then the man turned to me. "And you must be Draco's fiancée. How lovely, how lovely. I am Blaise Zabini. I believe, Mademoiselle, that even the Mansion will not be fit enough a jewel-case for such a diamond." Why did they all have this thing with comparing me to this house?

I turned to Draco, thinking the man was overdoing it, would it be only a little, but my fiancé only smiled at me. It seemed he trusted me to react the right way. I thought for half a second and then I answered. "If I shone that much, Sir, Draco would have troubles with his eyes. As I know it, his view is fine and you are a charming liar." Both men laughed and I thought I had survived. Then Draco held out his arm again, and I knew I must follow him wherever we were going.

As we walked, Blaise Zabini walked next to me and started to babble sweet nothings about France, the fact I was French, and blah and blah and blah... I was only half listening to him. Would it be because Draco had unnervingly brushed his hand against my breast, and no one had caught him red-handed but I had felt it. The nerve! And then the door opened to a large room where a lot of people were gathered already. It seemed that either both Draco and I were horribly late or everybody had been horribly early.

One thing was for sure, the fact that everybody had been expecting us. Instantly, many people swarmed around us, Draco and I, and I was soon pulled aside by a group of women about my age. There is no way in hell, cher public, that I could remember all their names. They all wore beautiful, although slutty, witch's robes. And all of them were my best friend ever at that time. They asked me many things, and gave me a glass of Champagne, and we were all sitting around each other, before I could even blink.

"I must say, Nour, you have done very well. Draco was considered the most eligible bachelor of his generation. How did you ever manage to get him? Many of us tried and broke their hearts trying." Assuming they had hearts, of course. And assuming Draco would have let them.

Well, the way I got him was through sex. But I couldn't very well say that, could I? So what I retorted instead of what I wanted to come back with sounded like: "I didn't get Draco. He got me, and there is a difference." They all laughed prettily at my jeu de mots. I found it lame, but I didn't notify them of the fact.

"You know what?" That girl had a nasty shade in her eyes. "I have heard word of the most incredible rumour. I should tell you, Nour, since you are now one of us - I hope we can say soon that we are friends. They say - you are going to laugh - that you are a Muggle!" Watch me not laughing, I thought.

As all the other girls laughed charmingly and jittered and glittered, I remembered tat Draco and I had devised a line of conduit in that kind of case. He had told me that the air-headed girls would want to know the truth, and my answer was ready. "I am, how should I phrase it...a pureblooded Muggle."

They instantly looked very shocked. So I was really a Muggle. "It's true?"

"Really!" Eyes widened.

"Oh, my!" Lips parted.

I smiled indulgently, confidently - I was all but confident at that point. "Yes, I am a Muggle. Draco knew from the beginning I was one. At first he needed some time to adjust, but soon he was able to fend off for himself in the Muggle world. You see, Draco has this admirable quality few men have: he understands the importance of knowing his enemy. And the day he knew his enemy, he realized that it wasn't his enemy at all. And he decided to marry one of them." Cheesy speech, I had told Draco when we rehearsed it. He had answered that cheesy was exactly what those women liked. And indeed, they did.

So we talked about Draco, our future wedding, all of them wanted to help me for the planning and kill me in my sleep. And then, Draco came, holding a glass of whiskey, with a bunch of other young men. They all gave me their names and kissed my hand - only Draco knew how to do a true baisemain. And then, the men sat amongst the women, and Draco sat next to me.

He held my hand, and everyone was talking about the last news of the Daily Prophet. "Have you seen who made it again on the Prophet's front page?" they were claiming with disgust.

"Oh, yes! Frankly, this is getting annoying!"

"For myself, I don't read the Prophet anymore."

I was completely lost. "Who is on the front page?"

A blonde air-headed woman (with huge breasts) leaned over me, put her hand on mine and said with compassion: "Oh, of course you don't know about him, Dear. It's Harry Potter. The nuisance of the wizarding world." It seemed they would not hate me for being a Muggle, but they would teach me about their own values.

Draco had to butt in. "Nour is in fact on good terms with Potter. She invited him at the Mansion, is it Tuesday?" He gave me a charming smile that said 'make the most of this'.

I nodded, seeing their horrified looks. "Yes, I think so." I gently glided Draco's hand along my hip, so he could be remembered of what (little) I wore. "Well Potter is charming, when you get past the general awkwardness. And the fact that he's socially inept." That made for some laughs.

"Draco, you're going to loose your fiancée to Potter!"

I gently patted Draco's hand and gave a feral smile to his friends. "Well, I do have to keep him on his toes." I kissed him on the cheek and everyone was called for dinner.

--

Hands fumbling, ripping the fabric, a hushed voice scolding: "Draco!" Feet running, a soft thud. "That dress was surely expens- ahh..." The dress pooled around my feet. Draco had jumped me as soon as we'd entered the Mansion. I was being raped. And I wasn't complaining (well, not that much).

He was biting my neck: "I can mend it with magic." Oh, in that case, then... I ripped his shirt from him, mercilessly. He laughed, albeit a little shakily. I shook myself from him - that took some effort, since he wasn't letting go of me. And I ran, wearing only those garters and heels, and I felt him follow me. I wanted to go to a room, or at least a living room, to do it on a couch or on a bed, but he wasn't of the same mind, and suddenly I was pinned to a wall. "Don't you dare turn your back to me." He kissed me, kissed my breasts, kissed my stomach, kissed my hip, put his hand on my stomach, knelt in front of me and I was unable to move, unable to talk, able only to heave and groan and moan. What happened next was ours to be and ours only.

A few hours later, after I woke up on the couch - he must have carried me there as I slept, I found Draco in the library. I could see him, reading a huge leather binded book, fascinated by whatever was in there. The door creaked and he saw me. He smiled: "Come on in. I have interesting information."

"Really?" I came and sat by his side on the little couch (an ugly one, I rather thought).

"Yes." He turned a few pages and nodded seriously. "Here it is. You remember you said you were pregnant?" I blinked. That had scared me, how could I forget it? "I thought so. Well, I've done some research, and it says here that Muggles can show some magical talent, when they had wizards in their bloodline, and when they are in deeply magical surroundings."

I thought for a second and asked: "You mean I am some kind of Seer now?" I wouldn't be happy about that. Imagine, knowing the day you'd die! I wouldn't want to know that, ever. It was a burden I could only imagine and I had to desire to experience.

He shook his head. "No, and that's the truly interesting part. Well, apart from the fact that you have a wizard somewhere in your family. You didn't guess what was to happen. You didn't say that you would give birth to a child. You said that you were pregnant, which is slightly different. It's a very rare talent amongst wizards and witches to have, you know."

That was interesting. The Muggle had an uncommon talent. Talk about dramatic irony. "So what is it that I can do?" Know thy enemy, my mind said, for knowledge is power.

"You can see hidden truths. From what I gathered, it can go from detecting lies to knowing a bomb has just exploded on the other side of the world." My eyebrows shot up. "Yes, it sounds strange, doesn't it? "

"And how is this going to affect me? I mean - practically speaking."

"Hmm... Let's see... If you don't train it, you'll have random flashes. If you train it, well, only your trainer can tell you to what extend you can expand this talent."

"I should train." It could become a much appreciated weapon.

"Yes, that would be wise. The problem is...I'm not sure any living person has your talent." What? My eyes were wide open in astonishment.

"That scarce, huh?"

"Yes," he said seriously.

"Oh." I thought for a moment, and I added. "Well, we'll look for someone." Then, he gave me a smile and took me in his arms, putting the book aside. He made me sit on his knees, and he gave me a small kiss on the lips.

"You are one lucky girl. You leave home to spend some time with your fiancée and you come back future mother to the heir of an ex-convict, and empowered with unknown magical powers."

"I like those kinds of holidays. And you forgot to mention that I got to wear lace garnet." He laughed, throwing his head back. "And you also forget the part where there's a lot of money. That alone would suffice to make my choice."

"You're marrying me for the money?"

I laughed. "Of course, dear. For the money and for the sex. Both are pretty abundant here."

He snorted, but his hands tightened around my waist. "By the way, there should be some planning made very soon, about that wedding. What kind of wedding do you want?"

I thought. "What kind of wedding should we have?"

"The kind that you want. With all the social niceties we'll have to do before and after, I think you're owed the wedding of your dreams." Those were the kind of things he could say that made me understand why I would marry this man and definitely no other. Well, apart from the fact that he had a great sense of humour, that he was beyond handsome and that I loved him.

"Well, I would like a white dress. And I would like...I don't know. I don't care. It would be nice if you were there too."

He frowned at me to remind me that the topic was serious and that I was being ridiculously not funny. "Do you have any idea how hard this is going to plan if you're not giving any more indications?" I shrugged. I didn't care. "Big wedding, hundreds of people? Small wedding? Church? No church? Cake? No cake?"

"I don't care, I'm not a catholic, and cake, duh."

--

We were back to being normal Muggles. Draco wore dark pants and a grey cashmere sweater that I loved to wear on cold evenings; I wore black pants and a black sweater. We were at my parents'. They had met him a few times, and they knew we were fiancés, and they heard me talk about him all the time. They knew I was in love.

That evening, though, we didn't think would be a nice, happy time. We had decided that it was time to tell my family everything. Magic, the baby, everything. I hoped they would take it reasonably, but I honestly didn't know how that would turn out.

Dinner was just over, we were full and more than a little tipsy, when I crossed my arms and blurted out: "Mom, Dad, there are some things we should talk about."

"Is this about the wedding," my Mom said, "have you chosen a date?"

"Let them talk, Anne," my Dad deadpanned. Their marriage had always been about that. Interaction.

"We have decided we would marry in England." First bad news.

"Why not in France? Sorry, Draco, but I would like to know."

It was Draco who answered. "I know it sounds illogical, Sir, since my family is almost non-existent there and all of Nour's relatives are in France, but since we will live in England after our wedding, we decided it would be better to get married there. And for other reasons, too."

"What Draco means to say, Dad, is that the situation is far more complicated than it looks like. Draco has been gone from his country for a long time, and his father and mother were both implied in nasty things. Draco is not concerned, but there are those who hate him for it."

"Really?" Mom was beginning to worry.

"You have no idea. However, marrying someone like me, for Draco, is a blatant statement that he does not follow the same path as his parents did. And it would help a lot for our life there to make it as obvious as possible."

"Someone like you?" Clearly, my Dad was not happy about my choice of words. It must have implied more than what he wanted to think of. "What does that mean?" Well, I had to explain, didn't I?

"Someone they call a Muggle. That means I'm not able to do Magic." There we were. Draco and I exchanged a look, while my parents did exactly the same thing. "Mom, Dad, don't freak out, but Draco is a wizard."

"That's not a funny joke, you know, Nour."

Draco took out his wand. "Sir, Ma'am, don't be afraid." He spelled his glass of wine and suddenly it flew from before him to my hand, and then it went to my father, who reached out to catch it, and it flew from him to finish in front of my mother. They were astonished but I could see in my father's eyes that he still didn't believe. He was trying to look for the trick. Well, he would have to, eventually.

In the end, they asked for time to think about 'all of this', which I found to be understandable, but ridiculous. They didn't have to do any thinking at all, since we had done it all for them. The wedding would take place in England, amongst wizards, and they would be part of it or not.

--

I was lying on a white bed; an old witch sat by my side. She had a file in her hands, and she was looking at me strangely. "Miss Rivière? Congratulations. You are pregnant with a healthy little boy."

"Thanks." I knew saying this was awkward, but I didn't know what else I really was supposed to say. What does one say when being told the expected baby is not a mutant? Then, my mind caught up with her sentence. "A boy?" Then Draco's spell had been right. Then, I thought, almost as if I was considering something very interesting, does a wizard learn how to do those spells at school? If not, how did Draco come to learn pregnancy spells?

"Yes, a boy. The new Malfoy heir, if what I'm told is right." She said Draco's name with such distaste that I cringed.

"Yes. Tell me, will this boy be a wizard or not?" I really didn't know how Darco would react to a non-magical child. I thought he would welcome him, but as an heir... I didn't know. Draco was a good man, but also one who had been raised with some ideas he wasn't entirely rid of. I couldn't know beforehand what would happen. And I hated that.

She gave me another very strange glance and then, she put a spell on me. (Strange sentence, that.) Then her face entirely changed, it was made younger with surprise. "Oh! You are a Muggle! Well, yes, the boy will be very powerful." I breathed a sigh of relief I wasn't aware I'd been holding. She gave me a warm smile, for the first time, and said: "Everything will be fine, Miss Rivière."

"Thanks." I didn't know why, but I had this incredible urge to trust her. "I don't know what would have happened if the child had been a Muggle." She nodded in sympathy. "Is there anything special I have to do for the pregnancy? Is something unusual going to happen?"

"Pardon me, Miss Rivière, but the unusual thing is a Malfoy heir born of a Muggle." We both laughed heartily. "Apart from that, no. The birthing may be different than in a Muggle pregnancy, but that is all."

"How different?" That didn't sound reassuring.

"Longer, shorter, earlier, later, who can tell? It depends. But don't worry, we have spells to make it painless." I smiled. I didn't want to admit it, but I'd been very worried about the pain. The nurse suddenly frowned. "Tell me... What is my name?"

"Alinor. You have no family name, you were adopted," I blurted out before I could stop myself, and my cheeks reddened. How had that come out? Was it my special talent? How the fuck...?

I wanted to apologize, but she smiled again. "Yes, it's right. And you are much more powerful than I thought. Tell me, young one, maybe you could come over at my place some time and I could tell you what is happening with you..."

My mouth hung open. With my shirt pulled over my bra and my current position, I must have looked pretty stupid. "How did you? I mean, can you do the same thing? Is it bad? Can you help me?" All my fears were rising to the surface all together.

She laughed. "It is not bad, and yes, I can do the same thing, though on a much lower scale. You are very powerful, Miss Rivière, and I would be glad to help you. Come over at my place for tea tomorrow." She patted my hand comfortingly. "And last, but not least, call me Alinor."

I smiled back. "Alinor, call me Nour."

- End part 1 -