The Not So Good Girl

Christmas came before they knew it, and she and Hermione woke with piles of gifts at the feet of their beds. They’d slept in the same room that night, talking themselves hoarse until it was almost morning and the snow had piled up nearly a yard high. Virginie shook Hermione awake around nine after feeling the weight of her own presents at her feet.

She first opened a rather large box that was wrapped with paper that had real moving snowflakes floating airily over the paper, much like the snow that was falling outside the window. Inside there were 500 Galleons in a red velvet bag, a new set of dress robes, several containers of makeup (“Keeps your skin looking dewier than a morning buttercup!” one boasted), and, last but definitely not least, a very long letter—this gift was obviously from her parents. She put the letter aside, not wanting to dampen her spirits this early in the day.

The next package was extremely heavy. She opened it to find over two pounds of peanut butter fudge from Hermione, along with a charm that would remove calories and sugar from the dessert.

“Thanks, ’Mione,” she grinned, taking a bite. “This will be gone by this afternoon, you realize.”

Hermione grinned. “Thanks for the clothes, by the way.”

“It is not a problem. I saw the shirt and thought of you right away. What’s Ron bought you?”

“Dunno,” she said sleepily. “Haven’t got that far yet. Mum and Dad’s and yours have taken me up to now.”

“Same,” Virginie said.

She began to open the rest of her mountain of gifts: a small certificate granting her a year’s subscription to The Quibbler from Luna; lovely French perfume from her friend at Beauxbatons; gorgeous Italian knee-high leather boots from her eldest sister, Berthe; and a book called French Witches are Best: 100 Famous French Witches and Their Accomplishments from Harry.

The second-to-last present left at her bed’s end was small and wrapped in shining emerald paper. Inside she found two exquisite hair combs that looked extremely antique and incredibly valuable. In fact, she found her hand shaking as she took them from the box.

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, putting down a book she’d received from someone.

“Er….hair combs. Let me look at the note.” She pulled it from where it lay, rolled tight at the bottom of the box and tied with emerald ribbon and read it aloud.

“ ‘Dear Virginie, We bid you Christmas tidings and hope that this joyful holiday finds you in the very best of health. We bestow upon you these hair combs, which have been handed down through the generations and date back to medieval times. They are invaluable, so treat them kindly. We send our love.

Lucius and Narcissa.

P.S. Draco has said you are coming tonight. Please do come before eight, as Lucius and I traditionally have many Christmas parties to attend in the evening.’”

She gave Hermione an exasperated look and Hermione snorted with laughter. “ ‘Please do come before eight,’” she mimicked in a posh voice. “Puh-lease.” She returned to opening her gifts.

“I didn’t think he would tell them, stupid git,” Virginie muttered.

She reached for her last gift, which was rather large, almost like her parents’. It was wrapped in silver paper and was tied with a navy blue ribbon. The box had been bewitched to look somewhat normal-sized, but on the inside she found several more boxes that definitely could not have fit otherwise.

The first she opened contained many books she had wanted for quite some time, and she squealed with delight at all the new reading she had. Hermione, she saw, looked very jealous and asked to borrow them when she’d finished. The next she opened held a pair of, if she may say so, rather exquisite red satin stilettos. They had to have cost a fortune, and they were gorgeous. She was practically drooling. There was only one box left, which was long, but was quite thin.

She groaned, and Hermione looked up. “What?”

“That…little….wanker,” she said. “This isn’t a gift for me, it’s a gift for him!” She pulled the lingerie out of the box and held it up for Hermione to see.

Hermione giggled. “I wish Ron would give me a present like that. As I said before, he wouldn’t dream of it even if I bent over in front of his face and begged.”

“The note inside says, ‘Wear this tonight.’ What do you say I take it wrong and wear it in front of his parents with these extremely provocative red stilettos?”

“Virginie!” Hermione squealed. “I would say you wouldn’t dare, but I know you would.”

“Pity it’s so cold,” she said, putting it back in the box. “I’d do it if I wouldn’t freeze my bum off while Apparating.”

“Girls,” a voice said, and entered their room. It was Hermione’s mum. “Breakfast is ready, girls, if you’d like.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Hermione said. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

When her mother had shut the door, Hermione said, “You know, you’re lucky that Lucius and Narcissa will be gone tonight. At least you’ll be able to have a bit of a Christmas shag. Arthur and Molly never leave, especially on Christmas. And they aren’t exactly accepting of unwed couples sleeping together. Did you know they put a jinx on each of our doors last time so that we couldn’t get into each other’s rooms?”

Virginie wrinkled her nose. “Well I’m sure Lucius and Narcissa would be the same way if they knew…well, maybe not. They didn’t do anything like that last time.”

After eating a hearty brunch, Hermione went to take a shower—she and her parents were leaving for the Weasleys’ Burrow in an hour—so Virginie took her presents into her own room and sat down to read the letter from her parents.

Dear Virginie,

Your father and I are very disappointed that you have not written us. It is against every principle that this family stands for that you are consorting with Wizards such as the Malfoy family. Imagine our sense of betrayal and shock when we entered the Malfoy home on Halloween, expecting to simply fulfill a duty for your father’s work, and instead finding our daughter being presented to all the guests as if she were already in the family!

I do not know what to say to you, young lady, and your father’s heart is broken. We, more than anyone else, understand what love can do to a young couple, to think they are invincible and unlikely to ever have trouble bestowed upon them, but let me tell you, Virginie de Gaulle: consorting with the Malfoys will bring trouble your way fast. Your father knows more than anyone, my dear, that no good can come from that family. Though he was in France at the time of Lucius Malfoy’s trial, don’t think he doesn’t know that he was one of You-Know-Who’s most trusted followers.

Lucius and Narcissa may very well be nice to you now, for you pose no threat to their family. Once you have married into their family, however, I am sure there will be extra protection added for the safety of their family name, even if this means harming you. Draco, I could see from the night of Halloween, is infatuated with you, and I daresay perhaps in love. I have no doubt that Draco will never harm you, but I do not trust Lucius and Narcissa.

I want you to also know that I support whatever decision you choose, because I realize that Draco is a very handsome, charming sort of boy, and I, too, would have fallen for him at your age. Your father swears he will disown you if you agree to marry Draco Malfoy, but I, my dear, will not, and though I highly disapprove as well, I know your father will come around with my persuasion. If you so choose to marry into the Malfoy family, your father and I will be wholly prepared to face the wrath of many of the members of the Ministry. Please know, Virginie, that, though I highly disapprove of your choices at this moment, I will always love and care for you, especially in your times of need.

That said, I do hope you like your presents, darling. Father and I did not get you as much this year as we have in the past, mostly due to your father unwilling to spend money on you after what has happened these past few months. We are also quite disappointed you did not come home for the Christmas holidays. Anyway, please do write soon or come home for a visit. I miss you, and your father will, too, I am sure…when he finds it in himself to admit it.

All my love and a very happy Christmas,

Mother

Virginie was very confused by this letter. So…her mother disapproved but supported whatever decision she made? Maybe she’d have to read this again, but for right now, she found it very confusing. She decided to pop over at home before going to Draco’s, making a mental note to herself to put a masking spell on the lingerie to make it look like one of her grandmother’s nightgowns. Her stomach sank when she thought of her mother seeing the emerald bracelet and combs from the Malfoys, and dropped even further when she realized her mother would probably want to try the bracelet on, because she always, always tried on jewelry that Virginie’s sister, Berthe, received from her soon to be husband, Jean.

She showered and stood in her towel, trying to decide on an outfit. Finally she chose a smart, low-cut kelly green dress, tied a black scarf around the waist as a belt, and pulled on her new boots from her sister. She ached to wear the new stilettos from Draco, but they would be much too cold on the journey home and then to Malfoy Manor later. She pulled a long black peacoat from the closet and laid it on the bed. Waving her wand casually, clothes and pyjamas sailed from her closet and into a small overnight bag that was sitting on her floor.

Hermione knocked and hastily came in. She groaned when she saw Virginie. “Why do you always look so wonderful?” she yelled.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have nothing to wear!”

“Oh come on, Ron’s family likes you already, you don’t have to impress them.”

“Yes yes, but I want to impress Ron,” she whined, twisting her hands nervously.

Virginie walked across the hall to Hermione’s room and wordlessly began assembling an outfit for her. “See, ’Mione, if you just take this dress I bought you—”

“No!” shrieked Hermione. “Too much cleavage!”

“Not if you put this camisole under it,” Virginie said calmly, placing a ruched teal tank next to the dress. “Then later, when you and Ron go out for a drink, tank this off and just put the dress back on.”

“Oh, I like that,” Hermione said. “Thank you so much.”

The two girls embraced, lingering a little longer than they normally would have because of their nervousness. Virginie turned to leave and they exchanged various words of reassurance to one another, finally dropping hands and wishing each other luck once more and promising to see one another in two days’ time.

She was buttoning her coat and tying her scarf when she saw the elegant combs laying on her dressing table. How lovely they would look with her green dress and the emerald bracelet…oh, but she couldn’t. Mother would notice, and Virginie knew she would disapprove of accepting so many gifts of jewelry from the Malfoys. Perhaps she was becoming addicted to this pampering, but she felt that she couldn’t live without the combs in her hair, especially on Christmas…she kept thinking how pleased Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco would be if she wore them.

What’s it to Mother? she thought, grabbing them and pushing them into her hair. They glittered and were absolutely beautiful. She smiled at her reflection and was disappointed it didn’t say anything back, until she remembered this was a Muggle home.

Grabbing her overnight bag and wand, she Apparated home. It took just a few short minutes before she found herself standing on a small cobbled walk leading to a very large wooden front door that had an enormous Christmas wreath hung on it, glittering with snowflakes. She gingerly walked up to the front door, and paused before opening it.

“Hello?” she called, taking off her coat and scarf and hanging them in the hall closet. “It’s me…I’ve come home just for the day…Happy Christmas!”

She wandered about the large foyer…but of course, on Christmas morning her family was always in the parlor instead, where there was a fireplace large enough to warm them all with little effort. It was there she found her mother, father, three sisters, and soon to be brother-in-law sitting, drinking hot cocoa and listening to the warbling Wizard radio network.

“Hello,” she said cheerfully, slowly entering the room.

“Oh, darling, you came!” her mother squealed, leaping from her chair to greet her. “Your papa was just saying how he missed you…Etienne, tell her!”

“Hello, dear,” her father said wearily.

“Dad, I—” she began, but he held up a hand to silence her.

“You’re a grown girl, you’ve got the right to do what you want,” he said, hugging her, and she felt her eyes well with tears. He pulled apart and looked at her sternly. “But you tell that boy that if he ever hurts you, he’ll be wishing he’d never been born.”

Virginie smiled wanly. Her dad said this about every boy she’d ever dated. She supposed this was his way of accepting it.

Apparently having got the okay signal, her sisters and Jean scrambled to give her hugs as well. They all complimented her chic outfit and the jewelry.

“Mon dieu!” her mother exclaimed, looking at the combs. “Did they give you these? They must be worth half a million Galleons, at least!”

“How does it feel to have half a mil’ in your hair, V?” Berthe laughed, poking her in the arm. “My ring cost a quarter of that.”

“It feels good to be rich,” she joked, “but I don’t have the ring yet. I’ll let you know when I’ve got that…if I can move my hand, that is.”

“I’ve heard this Malfoy fellow is rather handsome,” Jean said. “More handsome than I?”

Virginie blushed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.

It felt so wonderful to be back with her family once more. How lovely to feel comfortable in your old home again. She had never realized how lovely it was to feel this way until she’d lost it temporarily. Sadly she bid her parents and sisters good-bye around seven, but they understood that she needed to visit the Malfoys, who were, after all, soon to be another branch of her family.

Soon she was knocking on the Malfoys’ giant front door, shivering in the vestibule. A very small witch that Virginie recognized as the maid answered.

“Oh, ma’am!” she cried, shooing her inside. “You look freezing! Give me your coat, scarf, and bag, and I’ll let young Master Malfoy know you’re here.”

As the maid scampered up the stairs to fetch Draco, Virginie quickly performed a warming spell on herself, and instantly she felt revived. She checked herself in a large mirror in the entrance hall, and was pleased to see her cheeks had been returned to their normal rosy hue, and her skin looked as glowing and vibrant as it usually did.

Draco descended the stairs moments later and kissed her hello.

“You look impeccable,” he whispered. “Do you like the combs?”

“I do,” she whispered back, pulling him by his collar back to her lips. “Thank you for my presents.”

“Thank you for mine,” he responded. “God, you look wonderful. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” she said softly, kissing his soft lips.

A throat cleared behind them and they turned. The maid beckoned them to follow her, and they grudgingly obeyed. She led them to a room she hadn’t seen on her first visit—it was a well-used family room, very cozy and bright—this was quite possibly the best room in Malfoy Manor. Lucius was sitting in a leather armchair in front of a blazing fire.

“Mister Malfoy, sir,” the maid said, curtseyed, and left.

“Ah, Virginie!” Lucius said, rising to kiss her hand. “Thank you for coming. We’ve been looking forward to it all day. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” she returned. “Thank you for the lovely combs.”

“You are most welcome, my dear,” he replied, gesturing for her and Draco to sit. “And might I say you look very lovely this evening. You always have the perfect taste in clothing.”

Virginie blushed. “Thank you, sir, you flatter me.”

“I give compliments where they are due,” he responded haughtily.

“How is Narcissa?” she asked.

“Mum always takes hours to get ready on Christmas,” Draco smirked.

“Now, now, Draco, don’t chide,” Lucius said softly. “But yes, Narcissa is putting the finishing touches on her own outfit. She should be down momentarily. She is very anxious to see you again.”

While they waited for Narcissa, they made small talk about Hogwarts and life after school, including asking them where they’d like to live, which made each of them very uncomfortable. Thankfully, Narcissa entered soon after in a swish of black satin, and they were saved.

“Virginie, darling, it’s wonderful to see you again. How very disappointed we were that you were spending the holidays with your parents. ‘Ah, Lucius,’ I said. ‘The day shall soon come that the de Gaulles and the Malfoys shall spend their Christmases together, with many grandchildren.’ I do hope I’m right,” she added.

Virginie smiled feebly and returned Narcissa’s small hug. They all sat around the fire. Draco squeezed her hand and smiled gently at her.

“My two darlings,” Narcissa said, addressing them as if they were both her children. “Your father and I have found the perfect plot of land for the two of you to build your house on, haven’t we, Lucius?”

Lucius gave a curt nod of his head.

“Oh, it’s lovely. We can build you a nice-sized home on it, and it’s not too far—about halfway between our home and your parents’ home, Virginie, just perfect. There are no Muggles around and I think it would be just perfect.”

“Oh Mother, we aren’t even engaged yet,” Draco snapped.

“Better to start early, my dear,” Narcissa replied. “We can have the home finished and magicked by the time you’re ready to move in.”

“I think it sounds lovely,” Virginie said, before Draco brushed her off again. “I’d love to go see it.”

“Perhaps tomorrow morning, dear,” Narcissa said, brightening that someone appreciated her hard work. “Shall we call your parents to go?”

“Yes, please,” Virginie said. “I’ll send an owl tonight.”

“Have them come here, and we shall all go together.”

Lucius glanced at his watch. “Time to go, darling.”

“Oh, how time flies!” she said, standing and hugging both Draco and Virginie. “You’ll be all right, then? The maid is here on the ground floor if you need something in the night. Otherwise, the home is yours. We shan’t be back until nearly daybreak. Do tell your parents not to call until two tomorrow, Virginie,” she said, sounding exasperated.

And with that, they Apparated.

Draco turned to Virginie. “Time for fun?” he asked hopefully.

“You are a very naughty boy,” she chided, “sending me that lingerie. That was a gift for you more than for me!”

“Exactly,” he said, kissing her.

She excused herself upstairs to her normal room and put on the lingerie she’d bewitched to look like a grandmother’s pyjamas. She sauntered down the stairs, finding Draco at the foot of them.

“Sexy lingerie, eh?” she grinned, turning.

“Erm…darling…that’s not what I sent,” he said, surprised.

“Was it more like this?” she asked, waving her wand and changing the grandmother robe to the sexy black negligee he’d given her.

“Put those boots back on,” he commanded. She Summoned the knee highs from her sister and put them back on.

“You look good enough to eat,” he grinned, pushing her into the dining room.

A week was the longest they’d gone without being intimate together, and it seemed that Draco had been building his stamina for every day they’d been apart. They fucked in the dining room and kitchen, had great sex in the parlor, and finally wound down by making tender love in Draco’s bed between the green silk sheets.

“Our first Christmas together,” she whispered as Draco was drifting off to sleep.

“It was wonderful,” he whispered groggily, pulling her closer.