Entwined

Desdemona Enstwhile always knew that there would come a day when she would have to face the Wizengamot. Although, she always figured it would be her own trial. She never thought she would be called as a witness at his. Her heels clicked along the cold stone floor as she walked to the center of the room, her eyes scanning over the rows of people to the left and right. Harry Potter…of course he’d be here. She briefly noticed Narcissa Malfoy, and a very noticeable empty space next to her where Lucius was missing. He had already been convicted and sent back to Azkaban. She made no eye contact as she passed the woman, who struggled to hold her composure and focused her eyes at the front of the room. Rows and rows of powerful wizards seemed to tower over her, and at the front, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the now permanent Minister of Magic. She reached her place and for the first time allowed herself to look to her left, where she met his stoney, tired, gray eyes. He sat stiffly in the chair that binded him, but his hair was neatly combed and he wore a freshly pressed, black suit, not the traditional Azkaban prison garb. So, the Malfoys still continued to receive special treatment.

“Take a seat,” gestured Kingsley to the modest, comfortable seat he had conjured while her eyes were straying. She nervously nodded and quickly took her seat and waited for him to continue. “If you would, please start from the beginning.”
She gulped, “Well, it was after midnight when I arrived back at Hogwarts, word had been spreading because everyone seemed to be fleeing the place or scheming to get back in. I arrived late but was able to sneak in the front gates because they’d been smashed and –“

“Excuse me if you will, Miss Enstwhile, but unfortunately we need you to start at the very beginning. We feel it is necessary to clearly understand this case,” interrupted Kingsley.

Desdemona had, unhappily, been expecting this. She did not know if she would be able to keep her composure through her whole story. Nevertheless, she allowed her mind to drift back, to that first summer in Wiltshire. She, of course, could not remember the first year of her life, but could plainly see her home in the country. She let her mind drift back, over the Enstwhile manor, tall, white and welcoming in the summer sun. The front sweeping lawns smelled of sweet summer grass and the leaves of the trees were bright and green. Along the back sprawled many gardens, rich and beautiful, and constantly blooming through the summer thanks to her mother’s charm. The smell of the beautiful flowers wafted into their open windows. Beyond the gardens lay the shining lake, accented by the huge weeping willow beside it. Up a long hill lay the Malfoy manor. The afternoon sun was dipping beyond the home and it cast a long shadow down the hill.

Draco Malfoy and Desdemona Enstwhile were both born in the summer of 1980. Shortly after her birth, her parents, Vincent and Viola Enstwhile, moved into the manor, quickly befriending their fellow wizarding neighbors. Both families shared a rich history of pure blood background and shared many of the same views. Although, Desdemona admitted, her parents believed in the superiority of pure bloods, but they never actually joined the ranks of You-Know-Who when he first rose to power. However, while they did not directly come to his aid, they also surely did nothing to hinder him.

After he fell, the Enstwhiles’ friendship to the Malfoys grew, a weight seemingly lifted from the house. Since young Draco and Desdemona were both only children and of the same age, they were brought up closely together from birth, hardly a day went by without their paths crossing. As they grew up, they easily became friends.

She remembered the summer when they were five. Most of their time was spent playing in the gardens of her home, under the watchful gaze of their house elves. One particular afternoon was especially boring. “What do you want to do?” she asked Draco. He looked up from the ground where his feet were busy crushing scuttling ants. His hair gleamed in the sunshine, his usually pale skin was slightly tanned from the days spent outside.

“Let’s play aurors and death eaters!” he suggested, his gray eyes shining with a smile, something that would become a rarity later in his life.

Desdemona wrinkled her nose and shook her head, her long blonde hair swaying behind her. “You always make me be the auror. I don’t want to chase you.”

“It’s not my problem you’re too good to be a death eater,” he frowned, still too young to have mastered the Malfoy sneer. She ignored him and wandered over to the fountain. There was a large stone basin at the bottom and three other basins, growing smaller, seemed to hover above, cascading water down which was caught at the bottom. At the lip of the fountain a small snake was trying to reach the water to take a drink. She picked it up in her hand and brought it closer to take a drink.

“Thanksss,” it hissed.

“You’re welcome,” she said back.

“What was that?” snapped Draco.

“I didn’t say anything,” said Desdemona. She felt the snake coil tightly in her hand as Draco approached. “It’s ok. He’s nice,” she whispered. He loosened.

“You just talked to the snake! I heard you! That wasn’t English! Dessi, you’re a pareselmouth?” His eyes were wide and face absolutely shocked. She shrugged. She’d always been able to do it. “But no one can do that! Well, there’s been a considerable amount of parselmouths in my family,” he boasted, but then added with a frown, “Only the women can do it though. Still, it’s rare. Can anyone in your family speak it?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. She hissed goodbye to the snake and set it down in the grass where it slithered off beneath a bush.

“What’d you say to it?”

“Goodbye.” She laughed, Draco looked almost fearful. With a glint of trouble in her eyes she stood and Draco uneasily backed away. “Stop Death Eater!” she screamed. “I’m going to get you!” Draco yelped and took off running through the gardens.

And so they lived in the little world they created for themselves. They grew up 0side by side, ever more inseparable through the passing years. Their mischief and curiosity about magic also thrived when they were together. Around the age of nine they discovered an abandoned wand in the bedroom of the third floor in the Malfoy manor. From then on, most of their time was spent sneaking off to attempt to do magic with it.

One autumn afternoon, Narcissa had invited Viola over for tea, and Desdemona tagged along to play with Draco. They lingered outside on the terrace of the house, giving their mothers time to get settled and distracted by the tea so they could sneak off to steal the wand. Draco led her by the hand into her house, but did not head to the large wooden staircase leading upstairs. Instead, he headed towards the sitting room used for tea. “Draco! What are you doing?” she asked.

“Be quiet! Do you want them to hear?” He continued to move towards the door, but slower now and treading softly, so she followed suit. He explained, “My parents sent me out of the dining room last night after dinner, said they had matters to discuss.” Desdemona dropped his hand and he turned to look at her wide, concerning eyes. “It wasn’t a fight,” he reassured. “But they mentioned your family name a few times from what I could hear. Stupid wooden doors, can’t hear anything through them properly.” His voice, barely a whisper as is, trailed off and he put a finger to his lips. Quietly, and as though he had much practice on eavesdropping, he opened the door the tiniest bit so they could press their ears against the gap.

“I wanted to discuss something with you Viola,” began Draco’s mother. They heard clinking of spoons as tea was stirred. “As you are obviously aware of, we both come from strong, pureblood families. We also have children of the same age who seem to get along better than anyone could hope. Indeed, Desdemona is almost like a daughter to us.”

“Of course you know we feel the same about little Draco,” cooed Viola.

“I’m not little,” muttered Draco indignantly.

“I think it may be wise for us to plan a union between the Malfoys and the Enstwhiles. It will ensure the pure bloodline of the families, and could be quite beneficial to both sides.”

Viola nodded in agreement, “I think it’s a very wise decision, especially since they are so young. We don’t have to make our intentions known to them right away, of course, but I’m sure we can keep them from straying from each other. It seems right.”

Draco shut the door and headed off to the staircase where they climbed in silence, both understanding this wasn’t something to discuss in the halls of the Malfoy manor where any house elf could overhear. Once in the third story bedroom though, Draco exploded. “Can you believe them? Planning our lives like that? An arranged marriage!”

“I don’t want to marry you,” sneered Desdemona.

“Good. I don’t want to marry you either,” he nodded in agreement.

“Fine, it’s settled. We’re not getting married. Now…where’s that wand?” She hurried over the bedside table and reached into their drawer to pull out the wand.

“Let me have it. I’ve been practicing on my mother’s cat and I’ve finally figured it out,” he said eagerly.

Desdemona winced at the thought. The last time Draco had attempted the hair-pulling jinx they made up, she had been slammed, pony tail first, into the wall with more force than she liked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! At least I think so. Ready?” Desdemona was not ready, but turned to the side anyway, so he could point the wand at her hair. “Saeto retraxi!” Indeed, her hair gave a sharp tug, just bad enough to make her scowl at Draco. “Wonderful!” he said to the wand.

“Give me that,” she said, snatching the wand from his hands. She pointed it to him and said, “Rideo!” Draco doubled over with laughter, gripping his sides as if trying to pull invisible hands off him. He shrieked and giggled, “Stop it! I hate this one!” And then came more giggles until Desdemona finally relented.

Things were not always happy within the two families though. Desdemona’s parents were prone to spending many nights out and away from the manor, at the homes of various friends. Every week seemed to hold another gala or dinner party held by one of the family’s friends. Desdemona spent many nights in the company of the house elves or across the lake dining with the Malfoys. She wouldn’t have minded, had Lucius not scared her so much. She was often prone to staying very quiet during Malfoy family dinners to avoid having to speak to him. She was rewarded for going to these dinners by getting to stay up late talking and giggling with Draco, which helped to ease her horrible lonliness.

On the other hand, the Narcissa and Lucius seemed to have more problems daily and took to having loud fights quite often. Draco would always be mean the next day after that happened. He’d get mad at everything Desdemona said until she finally made him tell her what was wrong. They’d sit by the fountain and he’d tell her what he had heard. He had even let her put her arm around him once or twice, which was unheard of for Draco.

Desdemona recalled a specific stormy night when she was unable to sleep because of all the rain and lightening. She lay awake in her bed and watch the tree beat against the window from her open drapes. She had just begun to drift of to sleep when she heard a small crack in the room. She sat bolt upright in bed. “Who’s there?” she whispered.

“Dessi?”

A strike of lightening flashed and Desdemona saw Draco standing in the middle of her room. “Draco! How’d you get here?” She had definitely not heard the door open.

“I…I don’t know.” He looked as puzzled as she was, but his face also bore hints of sadness. She patted the space next to her and he walked around the bed to lie down next to her. He curled up beside her and sighed. His head was so close she could feel his breath tickling her cheek. “They were fighting again.” He paused to look for a reaction in her face and was only met with her sympathetic eyes which urged him to continue. “It was really loud this time. Dessi, he used an unforgivable curse on her when she tried to walk out.”

At this, Desdemona gasped, and with an eerie curiousity asked, “Which one?”

Draco shook his head, and Desdemona knew he was trying to protect her, like he always did when he talked about the goings on in the Malfoy manor. But with one look in his sad eyes, she could tell which one it was. “She wouldn’t stop screaming,” he said. “I was upstairs and I just kept pacing back and forth wishing I could go somewhere else. Then I thought about your house and I just wanted to be anywhere else and…then I was.”

She moved closer to him and he shifted so she could lay her head on his shoulder. Another loud clap of thunder sounded and seemed to shake the room. She shuddered in fear and he put his arms around her. “It’s ok,” he whispered. “It’s just stars being born.”

The next morning, Viola was surprised to find the both of them sprawled along Desdemona’s bed. The still open drapes let the morning sun spill into the room. "Desdemona! Draco!” she said sharply and they jolted awake.

Desdemona saw the displeased look on her mom’s face. “He didn’t sneak in again! I promise!” This wasn’t the first time they had been reprimanded for sneaking into each other’s homes. “He APPARATED here! Last night!”

Her mother scoffed. “Do you really mean to tell me an eleven year old boy apparated, Desdemona?” The pair only looked at her with wide eyes and nodded. “Never mind how he snuck in again. Draco, your parents are probably worried sick. We’re all supposed to go to Diagon Alley to get your school things today. I think you should hurry back so you don’t make us late. Desdemona please let Draco out and then get dressed for breakfast.”

Her mother walked briskly from the room and they turned to face each other. “We get our own wands today!” said Draco.