Elena was eager to get home and write an owl to Jack about what she had experienced, so when on her way she passed ‘Persephone’s Den’ ��� the dusty but charming wizarding caf�� that she often went to with Cassie ��� she didn’t even take the time to peek in by the windows. Had she done so, she might have become witness to a little rendezvous taking place there. Or maybe she wouldn’t have, because the two participants had taken good care not to be spotted too easily. Hidden away in an alcove, they talked in hushed voices while their heads ��� one full of black curls, the other sporting gleaming white-blond hair ��� were confidentially inclined towards each other.
‘I just wanted to tell you’, one of them said, ‘so you don’t ��� get the wrong idea or anything.’
A soft low chuckle answered, one that sent a pleasant shiver down the spine of the one who heard it. ‘Why would I get the wrong idea? Actually, I don’t have the right to get any ideas.’
‘Maybe. But it’s important to me.’
‘That’s very sweet of you. But you remember what I told you, don’t you? When we talked at Daphne’s party? That you should take a time out, get a clear head, find yourself ���’
‘Find myself.’ A scoff. ‘Sounds like Muggle talk. ��� No, seriously, I don’t mean anything by it, it’s just that they’re talking about it all the time, finding themselves, being their true selves, and then there’s yoga, and meditation ���’
Another delighted laugh. ‘They are a bit peculiar, aren’t they? ��� Well, you’re taking quite the workshop in Muggle behaviour, I hear ���’
‘How do you ���’
‘Oh, come on! You had Blaise over, didn’t you? In your Chelsea place? You know he’s a blabbermouth ���’
‘I specifically told him ���’
‘Cool down ��� Really, I understand! And I think you’re doing a good thing, cut the cords, try something new. It’s what I told you you should do, didn’t I?’
‘Yeah, you did, but ���’
‘I don’t need to know everything. It would be totally unfair if I advised you to take some time to straighten yourself out and then told you how to do it or how not to do it.’
‘Still ��� I had a rough time. Acted out a bit. But that’s over now. I have a purpose. Something to do.’
‘Like faking to be somebody’s boyfriend?’ However, the smile that came with the words was friendly, blue eyes sparkled amusedly.
‘It’s only for this someone’s protection. I cannot tell you the whole story, it’s sensitive. But I’m doing this for someone who did a lot for me.’
‘I can guess who you mean.’ Another warm smile.
‘It’s ��� confidential.’
‘I won’t ask.’
‘I want you to know, though, that I’m very glad to be able to do this.’
‘Do it, then.’
‘I cannot not do it now. I promised. But that’s why I wanted you to know.’
‘I would have known, anyway ���’
‘��� you see, that girl, she’s not even my type!’
‘Stop it! It’s alright!’
Silence ensued, eyes met, and eventually hands, too. Unspoken words hung over the intertwined fingers, but there was no need to pronounce them because it was right there in their eyes, the blue pair as well as the grey. Without knowing that in this moment they were both thinking the exact same thing, they marvelled at how easy everything was if you just managed to find the right person; how naturally their two souls were drawn to each other, how easy it was to talk, and how much easier even to converse without words. It was a small miracle, and an unexpected one at that.
And for the next hour or so, Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy sat in silent contemplation of said miracle.
The woods were dark and appeared larger than usual, full of mysterious sounds echoing into a seemingly infinite space under the clear night sky where stars were only just about to appear. Elena wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, yet she continued to shiver, was tense. When she thought about it, however, that sensation was a mere residue of the week that lay behind her, a week during which she’d been constantly on edge, always resisting the urge to look over her shoulder, always prepared to be busted the next minute. Her first week at the academy. Still, her head was spinning with impressions, all the things she’d seen and heard. However, staring into the black darkness of the forest was like cool balm to her eyes. She sighed, breathed, felt the tension slowly disappear ��� when a crack made her turn around sharply.
A hooded figure stood right behind her, almost looming, almost menacing, hadn’t it been for the protruding nose that told her immediately who this was.
‘Sneaking up on someone never gets old, does it?’ she remarked sarcastically.
‘Especially on people who’re easily scared’, was Daysen’s quick repartee.
Elena grinned. The tension was back, but it was a very different kind of tension. ‘Extravagant meeting point’, she said, though it wasn’t really true. They had often been here before, the small clearing in the woods close to where they both lived and where they had frequently practiced fighting spells. Elena had a particularly good relationship with the undergrowth and shrubs into which Jack’ spells had often sent her flying.
‘Private meeting point’, he snarled, ‘we’re not talking anymore, remember?’
‘How could I forget? I had to tell that story quite a few times during the last week.’
He brushed back the hood and examined her coolly. ‘No problems then?’
‘No. But you already knew that.’
They had agreed on a secret signal. Every evening when she’d got home safely from the Crowley academy, Elena had lit a red-and-orange Chinese lampion and put it into her bedroom window as a sign for Daysen that everything was in order. He had insisted on it, pledging himself to a brief visit to Spinner’s End every night to check on it, and although Elena had thought the measure pretty useless ��� after all, once he’d notice that the lamp wasn’t lit, she might already be discovered, imprisoned, interrogated or whatever for hours ��� she had complied, thinking that his worry was sweet somehow.
‘There’ll be plenty of chances for you to tell your story’, he said with a busy air, ‘once we’ve arrived at Malfoy Manor. We have to get going now.’
‘There’s still plenty of time’, she argued, because, if truth be told, she was almost bursting with the need to regale him with every detail of her experience.
‘A lot of time if we were to Apparate’, he agreed, ‘but we’re not going to.’ To Elena’s surprise, he held up a battered-looking broom.
She made a face. ‘Broom-riding? In this cold?’
‘Some comfort-loving Muggle you are ���’
‘You know damn well I can’t ride a broom!’
‘Yes. Because you’re scared.’
‘I’m not scared!’ she lied heatedly. ‘I just never learnt properly!’
‘Because you keep postponing and evading it, as scared people will do. And that’s why you’re going to ride with me tonight to get used to the feeling.’
‘You know, it’s really because I hate the idea of having that stick between my legs ���’
‘I don’t care about your excuses. We’re gonna do this.’
He threw the broom onto the ground determinedly, stuck out his hand and said a quiet ‘Up!’. Obediently, the broom rose a few feet above ground and Jack gestured to Elena with his ‘You’re-going-to-do-what-I-want’-face. To his surprise, she mounted it after only a moment’s hesitation. Little did he know that she had just realized that riding a broom with him might be similar to riding a motorcycle with a boy you fancied, close to him, in something similar to an embrace.
It wasn’t quite as thrilling as she had expected, though. First of all, it was bloody cold up there in the black December sky, and although she wasn’t usually afraid of heights, sitting on nothing but a stick made h
er feel nauseous. Jack’ grip around her waist, although enchanting, was far too light for comfort and Elena realized that he wasn’t going to ride a ‘grandmother broom’ and go slowly. Once or twice, she made a feeble attempt at asking him not to race like that, upon which he shouted back against the howl of wind how she thought they might get from the Midlands to Wiltshire on time otherwise. So while she was moaning anxiously, her fingers cramped around the broom handle and she pressed her thighs together with all her strength, no matter that he purred ‘Relax’ into her ear at least a dozen times, and she held her breath for almost the entire time that they sped along under the nightly dome. She got the hang of it only when the broom was already sinking; her stiff limbs loosened a little and she dared let her head fall back against his shoulder, feeling his warm breath tickling her cheek. Damn it, the whole ride could have been erotic if only she wasn’t such a fraidy-cat!
As it was, however, her attention was distracted by the grand house that came into view as they neared the ground, nesting between green hills with a brook running along its back. The manor’s windows were brightly lit, yet it managed to convey a sinister impression with its towers and turrets, the accurate gravel path and the well-kept French gardens that looked structured and immaculate even from above. Daysen set down the broom with unexpected gentleness, and as they walked up to the manor over the crunching gravel, Elena frantically ordered her hair, growling under her breath that she needn’t have bothered with grooming and curling. She was nervous, venturing into his territory, about to meet people that meant ��� or had meant ��� something to him. Jack, however, only gave her a sarcastic once-over and remarked that now at least she looked like a witch. He, too, seemed unusually tense.
The doors to the manor sprang open as soon as they approached them. Two rows of house elves stood to attention, and Elena thought that they were even longer than the lines at Abrasax Manor. Down a gently winding staircase, in the glow of a thousand floating candles, glided a slender woman in a long gown and a veil of blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and back. She had the elegant movements of a woman who’d been taught to behave like a lady since her childhood. In her wake followed a young man in well-tailored dress robes who looked like her page boy. Draco overtook his mother on the steps and came towards them with a broad grin and a swagger.
‘Welcome to Malfoy Manor’, he said, mostly beaming at Daysen. ‘I am so glad you could make it.’ He turned to Elena and inclined his head with only a hint of sarcasm. ‘Good to see you.’
‘You too’, Elena replied, and amidst the grandeur around her, she couldn’t help the catch in her throat. Draco noticed her apprehension and his proud smile deepened. It was obvious that he was all set to play Lord of the Manor tonight and thoroughly enjoyed himself in that role.
They had, of course, seen a lot of each other during the last week. Frequently at Draco’s Chelsea flat, practicing Occlumency; but more often than not they had walked the streets of the wizarding world ��� mainly in the evenings, after Elena’s lessons had ended ��� with the intention of being seen. And they had been duly noted, that much was clear, with curious glances and whispers. Draco had played the role of boyfriend admirably, never overdoing it with the hand-holding, but always conveying an air of confidentiality with her that suggested a degree of intimacy. Elena had been impressed by his acting skills. By now, she was quite certain that it would only be a matter of time until someone from the academy would ask her about her ‘new boyfriend’. ��� The interesting part of their little charade was that in the course of it, she and Draco had come to ��� well, maybe not like each other, but develop a friendly respect. When Elena was honest with herself, she found him easier to talk to than she would have expected. She felt acutely that he did his best not to let her feel any resentments he might still have against Muggles and Muggle-borns. At the same time, however, she felt that he did it mostly for Daysen’s sake whom he deeply admired and wanted to please. It should have made her sceptical, but really endeared Draco to her.
The young wizard gestured to Elena to give him her cloak. She peeled out of it a little self-consciously. Admittedly, the floor-length black dress she had borrowed from Cassie had quite a daring neckline and hugged her curves. Out of the corner of her eyes, she flashed a look at Jack. However, he appeared completely impassive; for all she knew, he didn’t take any notice of her appearance, not even when Draco made a politely charming remark. Daysen’s eyes were on their hostess who came towards them at a leisure pace, as if she had all the time in the world, and from her perspective, she probably did.
‘Jack, you’re here. I’m so glad.’ The smile on Narcissa Malfoy’s carefully made-up face was gracious, but also kind. However, Elena saw the traces of a spoilt existence around her mouth and nose and was quite thrown off by the woman’s looks. She was beautiful in a classy way that was quite rare these days. ‘And you brought your friend’, the Lady of the Manor went on, acknowledging Elena with an ever so slight inclining of her chin. ‘I have heard a lot about you, my dear, and am very pleased to meet you at last.’ Her eyes dashed amusedly towards Draco who went on to formally introduce Elena. ‘And as you may have guessed’, he added ironically once he’d finished, ‘this is my mother, the magnificent Narcissa Malfoy.’
‘Stop it, Draco, she’ll think I’m pompous’, Narcissa Malfoy scoffed elegantly, though it was obvious that she wouldn’t give a hoot about what Elena thought of her ��� or anyone, for that matter.
‘I won’t. Promise’, Elena blurted out, then clamped her mouth shut, shocked at the stupidity of her remark, and hurried to say a pretty ‘Hello’. But she was nervous! It was something about this house, the grand hall, the scurrying house-elves dragging away their cloaks with utmost servility, the studied smile of their hostess who had again turned to Daysen. Out of the corners of her eyes, Elena watched their encounter. They didn’t say anything, just stood looking unwavering at each other until Jack gently took Narcissa Malfoy’s hand and bent over it, his lips stopping just above the skin of her slender fingers. When he let go of her hand, Narcissa put it on the lapel of his formal coat and smiled up at him radiantly. Her pleasure at seeing and welcoming him to her house was obvious, so obvious it didn’t need words. What was clear as well was that they knew each other, had a history, a connection that ��� as far as Elena knew ��� Daysen had with hardly anyone; she was surprised at the sharp pang of jealousy she felt when watching them.
‘My father won’t grace us with his presence tonight’, Draco announced, drawling the words in a show of boredom, ‘he is in no state to ���’
‘Draco’, Narcissa admonished him gently, ‘there’s no need to go into detail. I’m sure Jack is aware that Lucius’s been a little under the weather lately.’
‘Quite’, Daysen confirmed, not showing any emotion, ‘and I’m sure Draco will stand in perfectly.’
‘Let’s proceed to the salon then, shall we? ��� What a lovely gown you’re wearing, my dear.’
Elena’s cheeks flushed. ‘Thank you’, she whispered, but didn’t fail to notice that Narcissa’s dress ��� midnight-blue silk with fine silver embroidery and mother-of-pearl beads ��� was a whole different league, making Elena feel almost dowdy in comparison. Actually, the whole place made her feel insignificant and inconsequential. She glanced at Jack, but he was closing up to Narcissa who led the way to the salon, talking to her in his quietest and silkiest voice.
‘Well, girlfriend?’ Draco came to her side, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. ‘You’re really looking swell, considering.’
‘Considering what?’ She shot him a narrow-eyed look. ‘That I’m a Muggle-born?’
‘I didn’t mean that’, he murmured hastily, ‘I was trying to be nice.’
‘And you were’, she said with a rueful little smile, ‘I’m sorry. ��� It’s just ��� he insisted on coming here by broom. I’m still a little ��� blown over.’
Draco chuckled. ‘
You must compose yourself’, he said while he directed her across the hall, ‘because my mother said that she wants to hear everything about that academy. She’s very curious about things since she’s more or less retreated from the wizarding world ���’
Elena looked doubtful. ‘I don’t know ���’
‘She’s alright’, Draco assured her with a serious expression on his pointed face, and he pointed to the two people leading the way. ‘You can see that he, too, trusts her, can’t you?’
Narcissa Malfoy and Jack Daysen were walking very close to each other, their shoulders almost touching.
‘Hard to miss’, Elena replied, growling in spite of herself.
Draco chuckled, but was obviously in no mood to put her at ease. ‘Remind me. There’s something I need to show you, after dinner. I’m sure you’ll find it very interesting.’
‘Great. Can’t wait.’ However, it sounded a bit dispirited.
In the 17th-century style salon, drinks were served, crystal flutes on silver trays, filled with sparkling champagne that Elena sloshed down gratefully, hoping that it would make her more relaxed. To her surprise, she found that as soon as she had drained the glass, it magically refilled itself. She took ample advantage of that, and when she felt an ever so slight spin in her head she made herself politely address their hostess.
‘You have a beautiful home, Madam Malfoy.’
‘Please, call me Narcissa.’ A gracious smile met Elena before the older witch looked around doubtfully. ‘You’re being kind, but I always found it a little gloomy. Over the years, I have made a few changes, but only as far as my husband would allow me. He is very proud of his heritage.’
‘Of course’, Elena murmured, suddenly feeling small again. What was this? She wasn’t usually conscious because she was a Muggle-born; the idea of blood supremacy was utter nonsense to her. However, this place breathed blood supremacy and it got to her, while at the same time she asked herself why she let it.
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