Her bruise had completely disappeared by Monday morning and so had the pain
Her bruise had completely disappeared by Monday morning and so had the pain. She had spent Saturday night tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep due to the throbbing pain that remained in her cheek despite the bruise having gone and a raging headache. To own the truth, she was quite surprised not to have suffered a concussion from the blow. She had also had to put up with a pair of very sore wrists from her falling to the floor. Sitting at the breakfast table, however, she bore no resemblance to the terrified girl who had been cowering on the floor two days ago. They were all tucking into a large breakfast of bacon, beans, eggs, sausages, toast, hash browns and orange juice when the morning post arrived. Kathryn didn't expect anything.
She, Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't get much post when they were at Grimmauld Place as no one knew where they were and only their owls could find them. Kathryn was surprised, then, by Lana's arrival on her shoulder bearing an official looking envelope in her beak. She took a moment to examine it, feeding Lana scraps of bacon as she did so, before the others noticed that she had received some post. It looked like the envelope she had received from the Ministry inviting her to Fudge's Christmas reception. Turning it over, she could see that the purple Ministry seal had been broken and then resealed with the green Malfoy seal. Her stomach clenched unpleasantly as she saw the coiled snake twisting round the letter 'M', it was the same shape as the imprint left on her cheek by his ring.
"What have you got there dear?" Mrs Weasley asked as she doled out more bacon.
"I don't know." She ran her fingers over the seal, a shiver rising up her spine as she saw the anger in his eyes, the hand slamming down onto her face.
"Open it then." Ron urged her through a mouthful of sausage.
She broke the seal, making sure that she tore off the wax and tossed it in the fire before anyone could see whom it was from. Everyone seemed to be looking at her as she opened the flap and drew out a piece of thick parchment that resembled a ticket; blue and silver writing across the top spelled out the words 'QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP FINAL'. Beneath this she was given the location of her seats, the time and the location of the stadium; all in the same black writing.
"Wow!" Ron exclaimed; spraying toast crumbs on his jumper as he did so. "Who sent you that?"
"The Ministry I suppose." She shrugged, pulling out a note that was with the ticket. It was a brief few sentences requesting her presence as one of Minister Fudge's guests at the match.
"You're in the top box too!" more toast crumbs.
"Is there any note?" Mrs Weasley asked, adding another salver of sausages to the table as Bill and Charlie walked in. "Ron! Swallow before you speak!"
"I'll check." Returning to the envelope she pulled out a smaller piece of parchment bearing the details of available Portkeys. The card quivered slightly in her hand as she read it.
"You really must be in Fudge's good books if he's inviting you as his guest." Harry said; inspecting the ticket and note that Ron was now showing him. Kathryn stood up and replaced the ticket in the envelope.
"I'll have to go and pack," she said, banishing her dirty dishes to the sink, "most of the Portkeys leave today even though the match is on Thursday. I suppose it's to allow for the time difference."
"All right dear. Be sure to pack plenty of clothes as it will be very hot." Mrs Weasley reminded her with a smile as she headed back upstairs.
"It's not fair." Ron grumbled as she disappeared. "How come Fudge gives her all the attention?"
"Ronald Weasley!" his mother said in an angry tone. "You got to go the last time; it's only fair that she have the same opportunity." She chided him as he tucked into his bacon.
Upstairs in her room, Kathryn had locked her door and was holding the quivering card in her hand. She touched the tip of her wand to the parchment.
"Reveal your secret." She spoke. Something slowly appeared on the back of the card. She recognised the elegant black handwriting immediately and it sent another shiver running down her spine. It was only one word - 'please'. Her stomach went cold as she sat on the end of her bed and pondered the merits of what she could do. On the one hand she could just take a normal Portkey out to Australia and do her best to ignore him. On the other, however, she could make the trip out to Wiltshire as he would expect her to and adopt what, in his mind, had become her 'rightful' place at his side despite the fear this caused inside of her.
Deciding quickly, so as not to change her mind, she flung open her wardrobe and drawers and pulled some choice items into a bag before heading back downstairs to say goodbye.
"I'll probably be back on either Friday or Saturday, depending on how long the match lasts and the time difference!" she laughed, giving them all a farewell hug before apparating to what they thought was a Portkey location.
Instead she stood outside the imposing double doors that were the entrance to the Malfoy Manor. She rapped sharply on the wood three times and waited for it to be opened. To her surprise, it was his face she saw as it swung inwards and not one of his many house elves. He looked truly stunned to see her standing there. He also looked quite strained, as if he had spent the past few days without proper sleep.
"Hello." She said coolly as he stepped aside to let her in.
"I didn't think you'd come." He reached his arm out to embrace her.
"I didn't say you could touch me." Her voice was cold beyond measure and it wounded him inside to hear her speak like that, knowing that he was the reason. "I have some homework to do so I would appreciate it if I was not disturbed." She continued in the same harsh tone.
"Certainly." He forced himself to reply. "Feel free to use the library." She nodded in response and began to climb the stairs without another word. Looking back at her as she walked purposefully up the stairs; he felt a rush of disappointment course through him. She didn't take much time on her appearance anyway, not really needing to, but still always looked beautiful. It was quite a difference to see her here, dressed in what appeared to be her oldest, most ragged clothes and with her hair scraped back into an untidy bun. At the nape of her neck, however, a navy blue satin bow peeked out from beneath the faded cotton of her t-shirt and he could not help wondering what it belonged to. After ordering the house elves to grant her whatever she asked, he too stalked upstairs and shut himself in his study with only his melancholy thoughts for company.
Kathryn stayed in the library all day; poring over ancient tomes on transfiguration and potions for their holiday essays for Snape and McGonagall. A house elf appeared at noon with a light lunch of sandwiches and grapefruit juice.
At seven that evening another house elf appeared and timidly approached her.
"The Master requests that you join him for dinner." He said in a high pitched, squeaky voice. He looked terrified that she might punish him, the same look that Harry had described when he had seen Dobby with his Master.
"Tell him I shall be down momentarily." She said in a cool voice, shutting the book she had been reading. "Thank you." He looked shocked by the words of thanks and quickly disappeared out the door. She made no effort in her appearance, not wanting him to think that she was in any way dressing for him. She did not remove her baggy, worn jeans that he had once so greedily pulled from her legs. Nor did she remove her plain top with the ragged collar, sleeves and hem where she had purposely removed the straight hemlines for a rougher look. She deliberately left her hair in the loose bun she had tied it into, as she knew it would vex him; he had told her on various occasions that he loved her hair when she wore it down.
She could see the disappointment in his face as she entered and sat down. To him she looked simply scruffy and, although he still found her beautiful despite this, he much preferred the elegant, happy woman that he knew she could be. The only consolation was that the plain top she was wearing was quite tight and showed off her delicate curves quite nicely. She did not say a word as she sat down; sitting stiffly as if in a very uncomfortable chair and remaining completely unsmiling. She remained this way all the way through dinner, giving no sign that she even knew he was there or that she was enjoying the lavish meal he had ordered prepared. He could stand her silence no longer and, once they had finished their main course, he rose abruptly and stalked out of the room without a word. She flinched slightly as she heard a door bang off a wall as it was flung open. Not swayed, however, she stayed seated and finished her dessert, deciding it would be rude not to finish the food that had been prepared.
After sitting for a long while contemplating whether she could stand punishing him like this, she rose and headed for the stairs. Peering through the door into his room, flung open in what she presumed to be anger, she saw him and she felt pity well up inside of her. He was standing barefoot by the windows; one hand on either side of the glass, his head bowed in desolation. Kicking off the cheap black flip flops she was wearing, she tiptoed silently over to the windows and stood behind him; waiting until he noticed her presence.
As he stood there, he noticed a reflection in the glass and he turned slowly to face her. He had not expected her to follow him, let alone stand in such close proximity after what he had done. For a few moments he gazed in wonder at the girl before him. Her green eyes, bordered by long black lashes, were open wide and gazed back at him with an expression of innocence; despite the fact that he had long since stolen that from her. He did not move, waiting to see what she would do.
She moved tentatively closer, taking in every subtly nuance of his face and body as he stood before her. She was reminded of the time after the death of his wife and the invisible block that had come between them. Reaching out her hands, she laid them flat on his chest as she stepped even closer; running her hands over the soft material of his jacket. Slowly she moved them up to his shoulder and neck where they explored freely; tracing the line of his jaw and eyes. Her touch set his skin on fire and the desire to hold her became even stronger within him. Her arms moved further to wrap themselves around his neck and her hands teased through the blond strands of his hair.
He still did not move as her face nuzzled his neck, not wanting to startle her and cause her to flee again. She meanwhile inhaled his unique, rich scent that had so many times set her senses on fire. It did not fail to do so this time and she could resist the temptation no longer; kissing first the hollow at the base of his throat, causing him to gasp slightly, before working her way upwards. Turning her attention to his face she kissed both of his cheeks in turn, reacquainting herself with the feel of his skin beneath her lips. At the same time her arms moved; slipping his jacket off his shoulders and allowing it to pool on the floor before expertly undoing the buttons on his shirt and slipping beneath the soft fabric to run across his lean torso. She traced patterns on his back with her fingertip whilst one hand returned to his shoulder.
She fixed her green stare into his pale grey eyes for several moments. Within them she saw his pain at her rejection and the surprise at her affection. In hers he could see the fear and pain that he had caused only a few days ago in this exact same room. He also saw something else; something that he could only interpret as forgiveness. This contact was broken; however, as her lids fell and she touched her pale pink lips to his. He was at first too stunned to respond despite his instincts telling him that it was now time to offer a response. She pulled away quickly when he did not react, her eyes filling with dismay. Nevertheless, she did not lose her resolve, and; when she moved to kiss him for a second time, he was ready for her.
It was a healing kiss, bridging the gap he had created when he had struck her. Her mouth tasted faintly of strawberries and chocolate; reminding him of his abandoned dessert. The hand that had been tracing patterns on his back had stopped, everything else forgotten as he took his turn to familiarise himself with her once more. He did not break the contact with her lips as he moved his arms around her back to pull her closer. She in turn wrapped her arms up his back and held on tightly as they broke the contact and simply embraced each other, her head resting on his shoulder as he released the waves of her hair and stroked his hand over them. Tilting her face up to him he too traced the line of her jaw with his thumb, running it down the elegant curve of her neck and across her collarbone; earning a pleasant shudder as he traced his lips across it moments later.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered between kisses, hugging her tightly to him.
He was working hard to contain his impatience and his fingers couldn't help toying with the frayed hem at the bottom of her top.
"If you want." She whispered in his ear; reading his thoughts exactly. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin and, moments later, there was a small tug and a ripping sound as he tore open the front of her top and slid it off her shoulders. He paused for a moment to consider what she was wearing underneath. The navy bow he had seen belonged to her underwear; one ribbon tied at her neck and one at her back. Attached to these were two triangles of exotically woven lace, and were exhilaratingly, deliciously see through.
"And I was under the impression that you were planning for this not to happen."
"It doesn't hurt to be prepared." She said with a cheeky grin before pulling him back towards her lips. He may have resumed kissing her, but his hands continued to rove around; unzipping her jeans and pushing the loose denim off her hips where he found knickers made from matching navy silk and lace, these with ribbons in bows at either side. Kneeling before her, he ran his hands down the gentle curve of her sides as his lips caressed the soft skin of her belly; giving her the impression of him almost worshipping her, but making her giggle slightly as his hair tickled her.
Wrapping his arms around her waist once again, he lifted her off the ground and carried her the few feet towards the large four-poster bed that was, without a doubt, the main feature of the room.
Pulling back the covers he laid her gently down sliding down next to her; returning to the arms that reached out to him. He pulled her now semi-nude form towards him once more; crooking his leg over her thigh so she was absolutely aware of what he wanted as his hands slid lower and lower on her back.
From that moment on she was lost in a whirl of ecstasy as he tenderly, but hurriedly, removed the last items of their clothing and dropped them on the floor. She arched into him as he settled on top of her, clinging onto his shoulders as he loved her gently; making up for the previous pain he had caused.
Much later, once all their energy was spent and they lay exhausted in each others' arms, Kathryn smiled to herself; very much glad that she had decided to come here instead. Lucius, who had been gazing down at her with half-open eyes, whispered in her ear.
"Sleep." He murmured, stroking his hands through her hair that pooled on the pillow. "You wouldn't want to look suspiciously sleep deprived now, would you?" he touched his lips to one of her eyelids as it fluttered open to peek at him. Smiling, she did as he said and snuggled closer into the curve of his arm; resting one hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder. Even later, once the sylph of a girl in his arms had fallen into a deep slumber, he took the hand that lay, balled into a fist, into one of his own. He ran his fingers over the smooth skin and elegant digits; remembering the way they felt against his face and how they had the power to set his skin aflame. Laying it back down he smiled contentedly; confident that he had provided sufficient an apology, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.
She did not, however, drift into a comfortable sleep. Instead she saw the familiar flash of green light and heard the high pitched laughter. Except that this dream was permeated by new things; his face, her friends' disappointed faces, Harry shouting as she stood between the two groups, Voldemort with Nagini draped over his shoulders, Dumbledore looking supremely sad, the black, burning Dark Mark on her arm, her scar searing with pain. Except the pain was real.
Beside her, he had woken up thanks to her sudden exit from his arms and, with one look, knew instantly that something was wrong. She was writhing round on the mattress, clutching her forehead as if it was under immeasurable pain. Her breathing was ragged and erratic. Unsure of what to do he simply held her and stroked his hand down her back in an effort to soothe her. Eventually, she stilled and her breathing calmed.
"Bad dreams?" he murmured softly in her ear.
"He's angry." She said quietly, rubbing her forehead. "Very angry indeed." Lucius understood implicitly that 'he' meant the Dark Lord. Sitting up groggily, she checked her arm for any sign of the Dark Mark. She relaxed slightly when she saw that there was none; trying to ignore the residual prickling in her scar.
"Bad dreams too." She added, leaning against him, unable to shake the image of Harry's angry face from her mind. She hoped dearly that this was not going to be one of the dreams they shared.
"I know a remedy for that." He whispered, drawing her back down beside him and meeting her lips; his hands holding her close to his warm body as he rolled carefully on top of her for the second time that night, or the first time that day, she thought to herself as she held onto his shoulders and her body involuntarily arched into him once more.