30. Malfoy Manor
Malfoy Manor, England.
June 5th , 2001
"Do you have any idea what they want to talk to you about?"
"No," Draco answered laconically.
"Oh."
Ginny and Draco stood in front of the doors to Narcissa's study. Ginny had never realized that the woman even had one, for she had assumed that, not needing it, she would do without it. That deduction, however sound it may have seemed, had one major flaw, in the sense that this was indeed Narcissa Black Malfoy's office: even what she didn't want, she had; what she couldn't have, she wanted; and what she wanted, she would inexorably obtain. So there were Ginny and Draco, waiting in front of Narcissa's office.
"You have chocolate on your mouth," Draco pointed out.
Ginny frantically tried to rub it off, unknowingly avoiding the chocolate entirely. With one careful gesture, Draco erased the smear, then licked his fingers slowly. She watched him, mesmerized, like a mouse observing the cat about to pounce on it and almost willing to endure it for the thrill. As if on cue, at the precise moment where he was indeed about to pounce on her, the door opened.
They stepped inside, knowing that the mere opening of the doors was invitation enough, for neither Narcissa nor Proserpina would have wasted their breath calling. Draco, who had not stepped in this room since he had been old enough to dismiss his mother's doings as women's stuff, was surprised to find it extremely similar to his father's office. In fact, as he took in the details that surrounded him-the omnipresent blue and gold, the dark woods and carpeted floor, the ancient books and the crystal globe-he realized that this was exactly his father's study.
"It became that way soon after he passed away," Narcissa said knowingly, shrugging, in answer to Draco's unspoken question. "It must have known I would not be happy otherwise."
Ginny wondered what the elder woman meant when she said "it".
"Which brings us to the reason why we are here," Proserpina explained, indicating that they take a seat. "You see, while the legal age for adulthood is seventeen, a more ancient code has long deemed it to be twenty-one."
Ginny felt that this would be a talk the likes of she had already heard before the wedding ceremony, and braced herself for some pep talk about magic, sacrifices, and, naturally, blood.
"The Manor hasn't always been as you see it today," Proserpina went on. "In fact, when I was a child, it was a bit bigger, although not quite as sumptuous, as it is today. Mind you, Father was a frugal man, and there were two children then…"
"The point is," Narcissa interrupted, aware of the incomprehension pooling in Ginny's eyes, "that the day the Malfoy heir turns twenty-one, and unless his father is still-" her voice hitched and for a second she looked lost, mute, carved out of the silence that separates the living lover from the dead one.
"-and unless his father is still able to rule, the entire Malfoy property becomes his, body and soul. And while the grounds usually remain the same, because there is nothing as powerful and universal than nature's magic, the Manor will change to fit its new master."
There was a pause during which Draco remained impassible, Ginny fought hard not to imagine the Manor's furniture undergoing a radical make-over, and both Narcissa and Proserpina eyed the young Malfoy couple wordlessly.
"How does that happen?" Draco asked at last, solemnly.
Proserpina shrugged elegantly.
"You and Ginevra will have to live elsewhere for three days and three nights, beginning tonight at midnight. During that time, the change will take place, although having never witnessed the process, I am unsure of how that will happen."
"I have made arrangements for you to stay in a townhouse on Lancelot Lane. It has been in my family for generations, and was always a favorite of mine."
"What about you, Mother?"
Narcissa shot her son a knowing glance, one that was filled with pride at who he had become and sadness that she had to do what she had decided to.
"I will go live in our house in Delphi," she said neutrally.
What pushed Ginny to ask the next question was more of an instinct than anything else, as though she had felt there was more to Narcissa's seriousness than mere resolve.
"For how long?" she asked, looking straight at her mother-in-law.
"Why, until I die, I suppose," Narcissa said grimly, although a wan smile crossed her lips.
She brought a cup of tea to her mouth and sipped daintily, as though daring her interlocutors to challenge the deliberate mournfulness of her words. It wasn't self-pity so much as well-informed sarcasm, the kind that delights in making important happenings seem absurd. Proserpina cast her a non-committal look, remembering all too well how her and Lucius' mother had erred through the Manor, miserable and silent as a ghost, after their father's death; while she could not imagine a woman as strong as Narcissa slowly withering away unless afflicted with a deadly illness, she had no difficulty understanding her desire to get away from the young couple. How could she even have fathomed the ties of death and blame tying her sister-in-law to Ginevra, have grasped the precariousness of the young woman and Draco's relationship, have appreciated the depth of Narcissa's sacrifice to give the new Malfoy couple the slightest of chances?
Ginny could not, for all the gold in the world, have said how this revelation made her feel. Knowing Bellatrix' exact hand in her family's death had made Narcissa's willingly blind complacence during the war all the more difficult to bear, and she could not find it within her, for the sake of Draco or of her future children, to forgive the woman. Memories of how the older woman had taken to her, initiated her to the complexities of life in aristocracy, scolded Draco when he flaunted other women in her face to make her jealous, were promptly disrupted by the notion that it was people like Narcissa, her husband, her family, and other equally prejudiced and careless wizards, who had allowed for both of Voldemort's rises and the subsequent closing off of the Wizarding community. Between the two women, something had been broken long before either became aware of it. Ginny found herself unwilling to move past it, devoted as she was to forgiving Draco; there was only so much clemency she could muster.
Draco frowned, opening his mouth to protest or enquire, but Narcissa raised her hand slightly. His initial shock well disguised, he shot her an inquisitive glare. His mother saw well past the façade. She sensed the resentment at being abandoned by a second parent, knowing full well that it was not so much that he needed her presence as the fact that he wanted it, for stability and continuity. However, for having been pushed around by Bellatrix as a little girl and having given in to social pressure all throughout her life, she had learned to be ruthless.
"Widows do not make for good mothers-in-law," she said calmly, exchanging a look of understanding with Proserpina. "I will come and visit once in a while, and so will you."
"Don't worry, Draco," Proserpina added, although no one in the room could have imagined he was truly worried. "She and I have already made plans to spend a week in Islamabad and two in Bombay."
He lifted a single eyebrow.
"Just the two of us," Narcissa specified.
Draco nodded, as though giving his consent, all too aware that his mother would have done as she wished regardless of his word. It did not happen often, but when a particular idea caught her fancy, it was impossible to make her let go of it. Ginny looked out the window, absently rubbing her belly, oddly relieved by the thought that she and Draco would leave the Manor for a few days and that she would no longer have to deal with Narcissa's cold stares. There was enough bad blood between these equally strong women to turn the usual mother and daughter-in-law angst into genocide, so that time apart -and permanent arrangements to maintain that indefinitely-would be best for every individual in the household.
"Along with the Manor and its estates, you will inherit the fortune of the Malfoys, which is rightfully yours, and half that of the Blacks."
"How do you feel about that?" Ginny asked Proserpina, who hadn't so much as raised an eyebrow. "And how will you live?" she said, turning to Narcissa. Her voice was surprisingly lacking in care for the amount of genuine curiosity it held.
"I assure you my wedding contract affords me more than I could ever want from both the Malfoy and Black families," Narcissa retorted sharply, the hint of a smile indicating how preposterous was the possibility of it being any other way.
"As for I, it has always been clear that I would not see so much as a Knut from the Malfoy inheritance," Proserpina said without a trace of resentment. "I wasn't so lucky as Narcissa was in having two female siblings. In fact, had Castor survived-"
"But he didn't," Narcissa interrupted sharply, "and so Bellatrix and I got to share our parents' possessions when it was clear that Andromeda was not worthy of partaking in the succession. The family's lawyers, Luke Herrlington and Sinead O'Hara, will get in contact with you, Draco, to make sure everything is in order in terms of paperwork. This might take a day or two, but you will have to wait before the Manor acknowledges you as its owner before the rest of the legal enactments come into play." She waved her hand dismissively. "I'm sure Luke and Sinead will do a much better job of explaining this than I could, but as current Lady of the Manor, it was my role to inform you."
Draco merely nodded.
"Now rise," Narcissa told him. Her gaze was so filled with tenderness that for a moment she looked like the care-free mother of a little blond toddler she had once been. "You too," she added, tilting her chin toward Ginny.
They both did as they were told. Narcissa put her right hand on her son's shoulder and the left one on Ginny's shoulder.
"Rows of chairs in restless lines;
air still echoes poet's rhymes,
not yet flown from emptied halls;
footsteps falter, crumble, crawl.
Eerie voices linger, last;
final choices, feared, now lost.
In three nights you will return
Only then shall your hearth burn.
Yours the cellars, yours the stairs,
Yours the soil, water, and airs.
Blessing from each ancestor
On new father and new mother." (1)
From the ceilings and the floors to the heavy wooden beams and cracks between the stones, from the window glass panes and hung mirrors to the heavy-set armchairs and footstools, in short from every object in the household including the household itself, there rose a golden, shimmering light. It flowed freely and towards the Malfoy couple, like a stream but also of a distinctively particulate nature, so that when Ginny ran her hand through it flew about like dust. Regardless, it progressed to envelop Draco and Ginny, covering their limbs in shining matter as if to take an imprint of their very beings. (2) It shone gold and yellow for a bit then seeped through individuals and objects indiscriminately, vanishing as subtly as it had appeared.
"You will leave the Manor by midnight at the latest. Now go and enjoy yourself," Narcissa went on, speaking solely to Draco now that the ceremony no longer required her to address Ginny. "I doubt Blaise will have left much of that case for you to enjoy."
"I doubt Shehzin or Izha would have allowed him to touch the second cake, though," Proserpina pointed out.
"There's a second cake?" Draco asked
"What can I say… Your wife has a sweet tooth," Proserpina said, smiling a bit. "She and Izha seemed to think you wouldn't mind a vacherin (3) in addition to the more traditional chocolate cake."
"We'll be right with you," Narcissa finished, motioning for them to leave. Her skin seemed paler than usual and her features were drawn, but a new kind of peace graced her with face respite.
Ginny nodded and bowed ever so slightly, unsure of how to part with the elderly women. She retreated slowly towards the door, allowing Draco a few seconds with his mother. As impulsively as his mother would allow, the blond wizard rose from his seat and through himself in his Narcissa's arms. Surprised, she returned the hug, caressing his hair as she had when he was a toddler with silver hair and tiny baby teeth. They knew they would see each other again, but for the second time in his life since Voldemort had made him face the consequences of his actions, Draco felt that he was alone. Legally an adult since the age of seventeen, emotionally an adult since the second rise of the Dark Lord, the young man was about to enter another era of his life, one in which his mother could not take part. Slowly, he remembered his wife, and the children growing in her womb, and his mother's abandonment did not feel as heavy. Yet he held on, wishing for the maternal comfort to last but a bit longer.
Gently, Narcissa pushed him back. She placed a kiss on his forehead, her eyes brimming with tears but filled also with hope.
"Go now, my son. Your family will need you."
"Yes, Mother," he said obediently, for obedient he had always been and such he would remain.
He quickly embraced his aunt and marched out of the room with as much decorum as he could muster, ready at last to become Lord of the Manor. He took Ginny's arm and led her back to where their friends awaited them, gnawing away at his wife's mind-blowing cakes. They had the satisfaction of noting that both Serafina and Cyrus had left, presumably together. With the couple gone and Pansy behaving herself, only Blaise remained to break his usual havoc on Draco's birthday. He took no heed of Shehzin's insistent warnings, and was indeed responsible for the fun and chaos that ensued.
Several hours later, Draco emerged in the bedroom looking positively thrilled. Though his hair still smelled of the powdered sugar Blaise had accidentally dropped on him, he could not be separated from his ecstatic smile. He found Ginny lying on the settee, eyes closed, her face twisted in an easy grimace. Draco's face fell and he went to kneel by the settee.
"Gin, what's wrong?"
She opened her eyes, startled, and he could see that her lashes were thick with tears though she had successfully prevented them from staining her cheeks. She gave him a sad smile.
"I'm fine."
"Freckles, please," he snapped tiredly, using her nickname for the first time since he had learned of her real identity. "You can tell me."
Ginny thought back to Izha's suggestions and Shehzin's concerns regarding the communication in their relationship. Now that she had agreed to try and make things work with her husband, she had to play along with her own decision, even if that involved trusting him with her weaknesses.
"My back hurts horribly," she admitted, hoping that her voice wouldn't sound too whiny.
"Didn't the Mediwitch give you a potion for that?"
His brow was furrowed in confusion, but she could tell there was also a hint of anger that predicted nothing good for her personal Healer.
"She did, she did," Ginny said immediately. "But, I… I have this weird thing about potions and… Well, unless the pain is really unbearable, I'd rather not use too many spells or potions that could temper with the boys."
"I'm sure they're absolutely safe. You really should -"
"Please," she said, putting an arm a hand on his shoulder and wincing as another stab of pain shot through her. "Just let me deal with it as I please."
Draco bit back a groan but decided to indulge her, knowing he would pointlessly upset her if he tried to do things his way. Regardless, seeing her in so much pain hurt him so much it surprised him, and his incapacity to help made it even worse. After a while, Ginny's face grew more peaceful and her fingers, which had been clenched around Draco's, relaxed. She opened her eyes again and looked at him, then gave him a small smile.
"I'm feeling better," she said softly.
He kissed her temple as though she were made of crystal.
"Tell you what. Since you took such good care of me on the blessed day that saw my birth, how about I reward you with a long, hot bath?"
A blissful smile replaced the ghost of the former on Ginny's face.
"That would be amazing."
Draco called Grainne, and when the ghost servant had appeared he gave her orders to prepare a bath for Lady Malfoy. He ignored his wife's, "And here I thought you were going to take care of it all on your own," and helped her sit up.
"Come with me, then," he said, and before she had the chance to do anything about it, scooped her up into his arms.
Draco most definitely took advantage of the situation to burry his face in her neck, all the while making sure she was not too riled up by their unorthodox trip to the bathroom. She hummed with pleasure under his touch. The water was rapidly filling the large tub when they entered the bathroom. A thick foam formed on the surface of the water as if imbued with a will of its own. It smelled odd and oriental, a mixture of scents that Ginny could not quite place but that immediately soothed the remnants of her backache.
"The House Elves added medicinal plants for backache," Draco explained as he set her down.
Slowly, with care and infinite tenderness, Draco divested her of her robes. He unbuttoned the ample, periwinkle blue robe she insisted on wearing because she claimed it kept her mood as bright as a summer sky. They pooled at her feet like water when he dropped them to the floor.
"My very own Venus," he muttered as he took in her white skin and the constellations of orange freckles that had become his universe.
Ginny smiled calmly and unclasped her bra, releasing her full breasts. She grew tired of their weight frequently, but the look of hunger Draco shot her then made her momentarily forget the ills of pregnancy. He kneeled, taking her panties down with him and letting her step out of them. They stood there, he still clad in his robes, she naked and unashamed like the day she was born. Draco placed his hands on her distended abdomen, fascinated as always by the incredible roundness that harbored his children. Sure enough, several seconds later, he felt a small bump under his fingers. Ginny winced as one of their sons made his presence known, though that tiny movement could and would always make her heart stop in wonder and gratitude.
Helped by her husband, she sat down in a chair by the side of the tub. It was made of the same material as the tub and seemed to have been carved out of the same slab, as though the pool had been excavated and the builder had forgotten to remove the chair. However, when Ginny had been installed in it, the chair slowly started melting into the pool, taking the young woman along with it. Gradually, it eased her into the water, adapting to the shape of her body so that she would not suffer from the usual gymnastics involved in stepping into one's bath. Soon she was almost fully immersed in the hot water. Warm currents ran across the tub, gently massaging her aching limbs. Ginny closed her eyes in delight and dipped her head in the water. She emerged with a crown of foam.
"Aren't you going to join me?" she asked, sending a meaningful look Draco's way.
She nearly laughed at the plainly happy smile that graced his features. She did not catch it often, this pure, unadorned smile, but whenever she did it felt like a victory over their past. She knew she and her oversized womb had the power of eliciting such smiles from Draco, but, in her half-hearted attempt at punishing him for his treatment of her, she had been cautious not to give him the reasons to grin like that. But with news of Narcissa leaving the Manor, with life catching up with her and her love for Draco growing with each passing day, Ginny found it increasingly difficult to maintain the charade. At last, it seemed, the Malfoy patience had vanquished the Weasley temper.
"Do you want me to?" he asked saucily, his hands already busy removing his robes.
"I wouldn't mind," she said with all the neutrality she could muster.
She heard the water part around him as he slid into the tub, his movements as graceful and controlled as those of a predator. He swam toward her and pulled her against him, holding her back against his chest.
"You're so light in the water," he murmured against her ear as he leaned back and let her rest on him.
Ginny slapped his thigh as hard as the water would allow.
"I'm always light," she snapped.
"You obviously weren't carrying yourself from the room to the bedroom, my dear."
She tried to turn and retaliate appropriately, physical blows being the only proper response in her opinion, but he held her tight. He took great care not to squeeze too hard, a fact of which she was entirely conscious and for which she was grateful, though she would have preferred being able to move.
"Malfoy," she growled.
"Do you realize there are four of us, in this room, who could respond to this appellation?"
"Well, for the sake of at least two of them, if not all four, I suggest you refrain from calling one of them heavy."
He laughed softly, his breath sending shivers down her spine. Instinctively, she arched into his embrace. He responded immediately as his hands found their natural place on her hips. Ginny very nearly purred and wrapped her hand in his hair.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Draco asked reluctantly.
"Isn't it always?"
Her tone was clearly annoyed.
"No, I mean… You know, for the twins?"
"That didn't seem to trouble you a few days ago," Ginny pointed out with very limited patience.
Draco acknowledged the fact and, without further preoccupations, resumed what he was doing.
Later, he helped Ginny come out of the tub and dried her entirely. He took her back to the bedroom where, propped with enough cushions to hold a monumental pillow fight, she rested from their earlier activities. Meanwhile, Draco thought back to the discussion with his mother.
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked at last, after several glances at her husband had shown him to be deep in thought.
"We have to leave the Manor tonight."
"Yes, and?"
"I had been thinking of taking a small vacation for a while, and this seems like the perfect occasion to do that. How would you feel about taking the week off?"
Ginny laughed and kept playing with his hair.
"Taking the week off from what? All I do is practice breathing techniques, stretch, swim, and visit the MCCD. Are you sure you could handle taking the week off?" she asked, smirking.
"With you, anything is possible," Draco said sententiously.
Ginny pulled a handful of hair harder than was necessary.
"Witch," Draco rumbled.
"Language, Draco," Ginny chided.
"Well, you are…"
"Don't play smart."
They lay in silence, Draco feeling increasingly calm as his wife toyed with his blond locks.
"I would love to take a vacation," Ginny said at last. "Where's this Lancelot lane your mother mentioned?"
"Oh, we wouldn't be heading there," Draco chuckled dismissively. "I was actually thinking of taking you to the Nile."
"The Nile."
"Yes, the Nile. Egypt, pyramids, lots of sand, crocodiles."
"I've been to Egypt, you twit. I know what that Nile is."
"Language, Ginny."
"Silence, you. We visited Bill in Luxor a few years ago. The Karnak complex there has impressive treasures that have yet to be unearthed by Muggles, and he was in charge of breaking some of the spells there."
"Would you like to go, then?" Draco said after a somewhat awkward pause. He feared that the mention of Bill and memories of Egypt might make the trip tense, and he had no desire to re-ignite their never-ending strife after the moments of reprieve they enjoyed increasingly often.
"Of course! There's so much to see and we only got to visit the Valley of the Kings. Pretty interesting, but there were so many Muggles there that we had a hard time keeping dad in check. Not to mention I fried like none other and had to apply a healing potion for days after we returned."
"Charming."
"I assure you, it was anything but," Ginny replied somewhat bitterly.
"If I promise to keep you out of the sun, will you come with me to Egypt?"
"Keep me out of the sun? Are you crazy? I'd have to stay cooped up all day long!"
Draco did not say anything, thinking of the many summers he had spent, in Greece, Italy, or Spain, waiting for the sun to reach the end of its course before daring to come out. Neither Lucius nor Narcissa would have had it any other way.
"I'm sure we can find a way around this minor detail," he said at last.
"Minor? The sun in Egypt? Their main deity was Amon the sun god, Draco." She sighed deeply. "Maybe Hermione will-"
She stopped herself. Draco waited.
"I'm sure Shehzin knows a lot of spells against sunburns," Ginny amended. "I mean, if they didn't have them, they'd burn to ashes in Bangladesh, wouldn't they?"
"Probably."
Ginny resumed massaging Draco's scalp and he was silent, thinking contentedly of the upcoming days on the Nile's blue waters.
The beginning of this verse (up to "now lost") was taken from http://www.thepoetsgarret.com/celtic1.html . The rest is my own invention
This idea of a shining dust representing the energy in a surrounding environment comes from Pullman's "His Dark Materials", a most delightful read for those of you who have enjoyed, as I have, Harry Potter, Eragon, and other equally magical books.
A vacherin is a cake made with meringue and ice-cream in altered layers, cemented with (home-made) whipped cream.
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