The Dragon's Child Bride

A/N: Ha ha! It\'s done. And it only took me....three weeks? Well, anyway, the point is it\'s done and a whopping 22 pages long. I feel so accomplished. Don\'t forget to review. They make me so happy. Thanks Megan for the great and speedy beta work.

Chapter 29: ...And What Isn\'t.

Draco arrived at her rooms that morning, just a few minutes shy of eight o’clock, to find her asleep at an awkward angle on the couch, head hanging down with her body folded to rest entirely on a sole cushion. She could hardly be comfortable like that.

He was tempted to let her sleep, just through breakfast. After all, they’d missed breakfast before; it wouldn’t be too suspicious. Besides, she was always so tired. Poor girl.

He sat down next to her, dipping the couch, making her slump and fall against him. She woke with a start.

“Draco! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I imagine you couldn’t have while asleep.”

“I wasn’t asleep.”

“Yes you were.” She shook her head insistently.

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yes you were.” She opened her mouth to protest again but he cut it, not wishing to spend the morning in a pointless argument. “How else did I come in and sit down next to you without you noticing?” Her mouth closed.

“Fine. So breakfast then?” She’d said it as if she were conceding something, losing somehow. Still, he felt it wise to say nothing, not wanting to instigate any further argument.

“Yes.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Breakfast dragged on endlessly for Laylani. The morning clamor of the Great Hall only aggravated her ever-present throbbing headache.

She’d finally asked Hermione about her headaches last Tuesday; more specifically, she’d asked about the green potion which had quit working for her altogether. They had been sitting in the library, Laylani drawing up the outline for her Herbology assignment while Hermione rewrote her notes.

“Hermione? What do you know about headache potions?”

“Which one? There are several varieties-”

“The green one. It’s composed mainly of mandrake and moonstone.”

“Ah, Capitis Rememdium. It’s one of the oldest and most effective headache potions there are. Why? Are you having headaches?”

“No. No headaches, I’m just…doing my paper on some of the uses of moonstone.” She hoped Hermione didn’t see through her lie; she had promised Draco she wouldn’t tell anyone anything was wrong. “Is it, I mean, how long can one use it before they develop an tolerance?” Hermione frowned, her brow furrowing deeply.

“They don’t. I mean, as far as I know, one doesn’t develop a tolerance to it. Or any other potion for that matter.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, thanks.” Laylani had left soon after that.

She brought her attention back to the present, noticing she’d made a rather odd pattern in the food she’d picked at on her plate. Still, that could only hold her attention for so long. She turned to watch Gryffindor’s table. What she saw made her smile.

Hermione and Ron were sitting very close together. So close they were practically on top of one another, smiling those stupid, lovey-dovey grins at each other that she’d once shared with Draco. Surprisingly, Harry did not seem put out by the romance developing between the other two-thirds of his trio. His attention seemed solely focused on Miss Ginny Weasley, and she appeared to blossom under it like a flower in the sun. This made Laylani’s thin smile widen just a bit more.

Students and faculty began to rise form their seats and exit the hall; breakfast was over and there was perhaps ten minutes until the morning’s first class. Checking to be sure Draco wasn’t looking, Laylani darted away, needing to talk to Ron privately for a moment.

Laylani caught Ron coming out of the Great Hall.

“Ron!” She hurried to catch up to him; damn those long legs of his. He stopped and waited for her, leaning casually against a window’s ledge. He flashed her one of his lopsided grins.

“Morning, Laylani.” She slowed to a stop at reaching him.

“Good morning, Ron. Can I ask you something?”

“’Course.”

“Good. Draco’s birthday is coming up and I need your advice. He’s had to return most of his Quidditch equipment since the season ended, and I want to get him his own. Brooms, guards, the works.” Ron nodded. “What I need to know is what you would recommend as the best. I mean, if you could have any kind of supplies, which ones would you pick, and why? Remember, he is a seeker.”

Ron nodded again, considering his answer carefully. Harry would’ve been able to give her a better answer, but asking him had obviously been out of the question. Ron certainly didn’t want to let his friend down, even if his information would benefit the amazing bouncing ferret.

“Well, when it comes to guards, you can’t beat Osiris. Most professional teams use ’em. Fine polish, won’t scrape, unbeatable grip. As far as brooms, the Nimbus Flash is tops. There’s a lot of talk about the new broom from Firebolt but that won’t be available for a few months yet. Not until the end of the Pro Quidditch season in August. He’ll need a service kit as well; I’d recommend Starbirch’s. Phylias Moonfire makes a solid compass, you can get that at most Quidditch supply stores. Polishing kits are generally all the same.” She nodded.

“Thanks, Ron. You’ve been great help. I’ll see you in Herbology!” He smiled, saying he was glad to be of help and they both went on their way. Laylani’s normally heavy, weary steps were light with joy. This would be perfect. Draco would love it.

“Laylani!”

Speak of the devil…

“Where’d you get off to? I look away for an instant and you’re gone.” She grinned with repressed glee.

“Can’t tell. It’s a secret.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you okay?” His look was serious, intently scrutinizing her to make sure she was alright. She smiled brightly back at him, too excited to let his protectiveness get her down.

“Perfectly fine. It’s a good secret, I promise.” A small smirk peeked through his stern frown.

“A good secret, you say? Then why won’t you tell me? Maybe I’d like to hear a good secret.”

“I’d tell ya, but then I’d have to kill ya.” He took her hand.

“Well, I wouldn’t want that. “ The two of them started towards their morning class, Potions.

While Snape droned on about the many uses of the Truth Potion, a rather elementary one in her opinion, she wrote a quick note to Narcissa, requesting the items Ron had specified, being sure to write down everything that Ron told her. She placed a small disillusionment charm on her parchment so it would not attract Draco’s attention.

This would be perfect.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Laylani shut her portrait behind her, sagging against it with a dramatic sigh. That had been an ordeal.

That morning alone, Laylani had seen him with two different girls. On her way in from Care of Magical Creatures, she’d spotted him with the purple-haired sixth year, talking amicably with his hand on her shoulder, one finger brushing casually through her long hair. She began to approach them when the two took off, neither of them having seen her. She didn’t want to know what that meant.

The second time had been just minutes before her History of Magic class, her last class before lunch, to see him with another Ravenclaw, a different one than the two she’d already been able to identify. She was tall, blonde, generous curves in all the right places. In short, she was beautiful; everything that Draco saw in all the other girls. This time, Laylani hadn’t even tried to approach them. She made a decision instead.

She decided enough was enough. She decided to put her plan into action that afternoon instead of Monday. If that didn’t stop his wandering eyes, nothing would. So with a bit of doing, Laylani managed to get out of History of Magic a few minutes early, her plan being to avoid Draco, who’d said he meet her after class to walk her to the Great Hall for lunch.

Laylani was in a quick jog up the stairs towards her rooms when a dizzy spell hit her hard. The blood was pounding in her ears and her head spun, her vision clouding with black spots as her legs collapsed under her.

She might have blacked out if she hadn’t felt the searing pain shoot up her leg. It took a moment for the lightheadedness to pass, but once it did she pulled herself into sitting position on the stairs and saw that she’d gotten a serious gash just below her knee that had begun to bleed.

“Dammit.” she muttered. She pushed herself into a standing position, hissing in pain as the sting intensified. She took an awkward step, cursing under her breath.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” she hissed. Limping was hardly considered attractive. This put a kink in her plans.

There was a spell to fix this, a healing spell, one she knew. What was it? Think. Think, think, think. ‘Draco would know.’ she thought wistfully. No! She couldn’t ask him, he would never let her out of his sight again, throwing it in her face that she’d gone five minutes without him and ended up in this predicament. She knew the spell, she did. It was just so damn hard to think clearly.

Hearing the distant rumble of classes being let out, she finally conceded defeat. She simply could not think of the spell, and besides, blood was dripping thick red rivulets down her leg that was distinctly uncomfortable. With uneasy strides, she altered her course towards the Infirmary.

By the time she’d reached the infirmary, the blood had trickled down her leg, soaking the edge of her sock. She could only hope that Madame Pomfrey hadn’t yet left for lunch.

She was in luck. Madame Pomfrey was still in the infirmary…along with fifteen second years, whom she learned had been the unfortunate casualties of an exploding cauldron containing an unfinished Hair-Raising potion. Those present were now growing coarse brown patches of fur at an alarming rate.

It took Laylani a moment to get to Madame Pomfrey, who was treating student one by one on a cot, as the stone floor became a carpet of hair.

“Madame Pomfrey!” The medi-witch looked at her briefly, taking note of her wounded knee, before turning back to the student at hand.

“Miss Stanners, nice to see you again, dear. I’m afraid my hands are a bit full at the moment, so you’ll have to wait. Take a seat over there.” She gestured to the chair by the door, out of the way. Laylani nodded quietly and took a seat.

She waited a long half hour for Madame Pomfrey to remove the last student’s unwanted hair. She tried to keep her displeasure from showing on her face; it wasn’t Madame Pomfrey’s fault, after all. Laylani managed to keep her fidgeting down to toe-tapping with her good leg as well as drumming her fingers. She only caught herself dozing once or twice. It took barely a minute for Madame Pomfrey to heal her knee.

And now she’d finally made it to her original destination, with barely twenty minutes until lunch ended.

Great.

She pulled the altered uniform out of her closet where she’d kept it hidden, almost afraid to look at it herself. It was a drastic change, but she would do it. It was just one afternoon. Once Draco saw she could be just like those other girls, she was sure he’d come around. At least she hoped. She put on the uniform.

She looked at herself in the mirror, turning and twisting in front of it to get a look from all angles. She looked good. A bit too skinny maybe, but that had never stopped her before. She’d tailored her uniform to be identical to those of the girls whom Draco had been so drawn to lately.

Laylani took a deep breath. She was really going to do this.

She was suddenly nervous and that simply wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t play into her favor if Draco sensed she was even the slightest bit uneasy in her new clothes. If he thought she was uncomfortable, he would become uncomfortable, that would kill the mood, and it all her efforts would be for nothing.

Without hesitation, she went to her desk drawer and pulled the second half bottle of firewhiskey, uncorking it quickly. She took a long drink, the amber liquid burning pleasantly down her throat and making her eyes water. Replacing the cork, she put the bottle away and returned to the bathroom to apply her makeup.

She felt herself growing warm and smiled. Her nerves were steadied; she would be fine.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco was concerned. Draco was annoyed. The two emotions battled each other for dominance over the lunch hour.

He’d arrived outside her class just as it let out and he’d waited for her. And waited. And waited. After the last student had exited the class, he’d become concerned. Grabbing a nearby student he’d seen leaving the classroom, he had asked the boy, a rather small, lank Hufflepuff.

“She left early.” His voice quavered slightly as he’d replied, remembering how Draco had hit him with a particularly nasty hex one day in fourth year for ‘looking at him wrong.’ Whatever that meant.

“Well, where did she go?” The Hufflepuff frowned; how was he supposed to know that?

“I don’t know.” Draco scowled, more to himself than anyone else.

“Of course you don’t.” he’d muttered. He’d abruptly let go of the boy, wiping his hands off on his robes as he walked away.

Not knowing where she was, Draco had gone on what had proved to be a wild goose chase to find her. He’d gone to the Great Hall, thinking she might have forgotten he’d meet her outside her classroom. Then he’d gone to her rooms, thinking she might have been avoiding him. Then he’d gone to his rooms, the library, and the Astronomy tower, not knowing what to think. Finally, after wasting half his lunch break, he’d given in to the call of his empty stomach and gone to the Great Hall to eat, still uneasy but deciding it wasn’t likely anything had happened to her inside Hogwarts’ walls. At an rate, he had Charms with her next. If she didn’t show up, then he would be worried.

He was on his way to class, eager to see whether she was there, when out of nowhere hands latched onto the collar of his robe and yanked him into the darkness of one of the schools many broom closets. Before he could react, soft lips pressed firmly against his own. He found himself in a hot, passionate kiss, with a teasing tongue licking gently at his lips. He would know that kiss anywhere. Draco firmly but gently pushed her away.

“Lani,” he sighed, pulling out his wand from his pocket, “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Laylani, not to be deterred, wound her arms around his neck again. “I think I’m making out with my boyfriend.” she drawled with a laugh.

“We have class, Princess.”

“So? We’ll skip it.” He frowned.

“We can’t do that.”

“Why not? I know you‘ve always wanted to take me in my uniform…”

He lit his wand and looked into her eyes. She was serious. Normally his girl would never miss a class, she loved the knowledge they offered. “No, Laylani.” She seemed to ignore his words.

“If you wanted the lights on, all you had to do was ask.” She reached one hand up without looking and cast a lighting charm on the lamp, nearly missing and blackening the lamp’s metal frame with her careless shot.

“Laylani!” he snapped, pushing her away, “You could’ve very nearly set us on fire!” She stumbled slightly back and looked behind her at the scorching on the lamp. She shrugged.

“It’s metal, Draco.” she answered casually as she undid her black robe. “I don’t know what you’ve been told, but metal doesn’t burn.” He scowled; of course he knew metal didn’t burn, but the wooden shelf directly behind it along with some of Filch’s many cleaning agents surely would.

Laylani casually shrugged the robe off her shoulders, revealing the uniform she’d altered slightly for the occasion. She made to approach him again when his strong hand latched onto her shoulder, keeping her at arm’s length.

“Just what the hell are you wearing?” She grinned and struck a pose.

“My new uniform. You like it?” He scowled. She’d shortened the plaid skirt considerably, along with significantly tightening her blouse and leaving the top three button undone, showing a fair amount of cleavage. It was far too bawdy to wear in public and he told her as much. Her eyes went wide with hurt before they were instantly masked with an icy glare.

“Fine, you don’t like it.” She snatched her cloak up from the floor and hastily put it on. Laylani took a deep breath to make sure her voice didn’t convey the hurt she felt. She pushed him aside and opened the door. “I’m sure I can find plenty of others who will.” Draco’s normally emotionless features were ablaze with both anger and hurt that she would even suggest such a thing.

“That’s right, Draco Malfoy.” she said smugly as she fastened her robe, pleased that she had struck a nerve, “Hard as it might be for you to believe, there are men out there who find me attractive.” He could only feel shock at that statement. Was she implying that he didn’t find her attractive? Nothing could be further from the truth. He reached for her, but she brushed past him and walked on to her next class.

He spent a moment staring dazedly at the open doorway until a fifth year walked by, giving him a questioning look. Quickly he pulled himself together and sneered at the passerby causing her to scurry away. He straightened his robes and walked out of the closet and onward to his next class, Charms. He would find a way to patch things up with her there.

But she wasn’t there. The seat she normally filled was empty. Draco sat down in his usual seat, worried and confused. She had left before him, why wasn’t she here? He turned back towards the door. What if something had happened?

Almost as soon as those feelings came they dissipated as she strode into the room. He used his most charming smirk in hopes of making things easier for later when he would have to find a way back into her good graces. She took no notice of him, not even casting him a sidelong glance as she walked right by him. He watched with furrowed brow as she walked to the opposite end of the small, semi-circular lecture hall to take an empty seat near one of his housemates, Blaise Zabini and unclasped her robe. She’d put on her jumper but other than that her attire had remained exactly the same.

She struck up a conversation with the quiet Slytherin, speaking too quietly for Draco to hear, but every now and again she would punctuate their banter with a small giggle. Draco frowned, feeling his body heat up with anger. Just then she placed her hand on his arm, letting it linger longer than what was friendly. Draco began to seethe. She was flirting with him! She’d noticed him watching and with a smirk of her own, she carelessly knocked her quill off the desk and it landed on the floor between her and Zabini. She carefully leaned over to pick it up, giving the dark-haired boy an ample view down her shirt and Draco watched with growing fury as Blaise took it all in and swallowed hard.

His fingers scraped audibly along the wooden desktop as his hands balled to fists of their own accord. He had half-risen from his seat with every intention to beat that traitorous whelp Zabini unrecognizable for even daring to look at his girl - his fiancée - when Professor Flitwick entered the room.

“Good afternoon, class. Mister Malfoy, please sit down.” All eyes turned to him, including Laylani’s and Blaise’s.

Laylani smiled with smug satisfaction, easily reading the jealousy in his blazing eyes despite his cool demeanor, and Zabini paled considerably, also seeing something that spelled imminent pain for him in the near future. Draco sat down coolly.

As the professor began the lecture, Draco tried to pay attention, he truly did, but it was no use. He was completely and irreparably distracted. He tried to scratch down notes as the professor put them on the blackboard, but all that made it to his paper was loops and swirls in ink, not words. His attention was solely devoted to Laylani who seemed entirely oblivious to it.

The class began to practice a particularly complex charm that Professor Flitwick had spent the last twenty-five minutes explaining, and Draco was completely lost. He had absolutely no idea what charm it was they were working on, let alone how to perform it. After a few discreet failed attempts, he gave up and resumed watching his girl across the room as she performed the charm almost flawlessly. She watched on as Blaise tried it and had executed it adequately until she again touched him casually causing his eyes to nervously flit towards the fuming Head Boy and the charm to fail. Draco’s expression could only be described as enraged, making the dark-haired boy shrink away from the girl next to him.

Draco grinned smugly, pleased that the members of Slytherin house were still under his thumb. Laylani frowned, but she would not give up that easily. She waited a few minutes for Blaise to relax a bit and took down notes as Professor Flitwick dictated.

Then, with a pointed look to Draco, whom she knew was watching her, she pressed hard on her quill, effectively snapping it.

“Oh dear.” she said softly with a pout. Leaning over to Blaise, she whispered hotly in his ear. “Would you be a love and lend me a quill? Please?” She briefly ran her tongue along the shell of his ear, making him gasp. “I’d be so grateful.”

Suddenly there was a loud bang from across the room, distracting her from Blaise. She turned to see Draco standing, balled fists on his desk, practically panting in fury. She grinned. Blaise on the other hand was making out his last will and testament in his mind, hoping he’d get the chance to put it to paper before the Head Boy killed him.

“Mister Malfoy!” Draco’s head turned towards the Professor but his eyes stayed with Laylani, not wanting to miss a move she made.

“So sorry, Professor. Old Quidditch injury.”

“See that you keep it under control for the remainder of my class. Please sit down.” Draco sat down quietly, his eyes still riveted on his fiancée. They stayed with her until the class ended.

He waited in his seat for her to come to him, to offer him some kind of explanation. But she didn’t, instead she breezed right by him as if he weren’t even there. Fuming, he hastily grabbed his bag and went after her, pushing through the students ahead of him until he caught up with her. He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Laylani-” She didn’t stop walking.

“Don’t.” He grabbed at her shoulder again and she spun around out of his grasp.

“I said don’t! You don’t want me? Fine, but that means you forfeit the right to have any say about what I do with anyone else.” She took two steps before turning back to him, wearing one of the smirks she’d learned from him. “By the way, I thought you might want these.”

She tossed something at him and he caught it. It was a pair of white lace knickers. Her white lace knickers to be precise.

“I certainly won’t be needing them.” With a smug grin, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Draco in the emptying hallway, alone but for a pair of knickers.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was killing him, absolutely killing him. He sat in Divination class, pretending to read the wax drippings from his candle and the only thing he could think about was the fact that his fiancée was dressed like a tart sans pants in a classroom full of hormonal, panting boys, half of them Gryffindor no less, and she had it in her head that she had free reign to do whatever she pleased with any of them.

He wouldn’t stand for it. He’d made a promise to be faithful to her and he expected the same in return. He would not allow her to stray simply because she was angry.

How the hell had she even come across the idea that he wasn’t interested in her anyways? Merlin, he knew she’d been moody, perhaps not even entirely sane what with her dreams and sleepwalking, but she’d have to be downright mad as a fucking hatter not to see how much he wanted her. Didn’t she see all the time and attention he’d put into caring for her? How he’d go out of his way at every fucking turn to keep her safe? How he was always near, just in case? Didn’t she see any of that?

Obviously not.

He would show her. He would make her see.

He stood up quickly, gathering his bag he hadn’t unpacked and began to exit the classroom, calling a lame excuse concerning Head Boy duties to Professor Trelawney. He’d maybe ten minutes to make it to the opposite end of the school, and he intended to be there early.

He was stationed just outside the door as the Transfiguration class let out.

She was one of the last out of the classroom, second only to Dean Thomas, whom she was chatting animatedly with. Thomas, he noticed with extreme irritation, had his sodding hand on the small of her back.

“Thomas.” he grit out. The Gryffindor turned towards him. Draco gestured to the offending hand. “Take it off or I’ll break it off.” The hand was removed, but the boy continued to stand far too close to his girl for Draco’s liking. Laylani ignored him, turning to Dean.

“Are you ready to go?” Draco frowned.

“Laylani.” She frowned in return.

“What?”

“We need to talk.”

“As you can see, I’m rather busy at the moment. Dean is going to take me back to the Tower. He has something especially interesting to show me.” She let the words hang suggestively.

“Well, that will just have to wait.”

“That’s hardly your decision.” Draco’s scowled deepened to the point of his face beginning to hurt.

“Laylani, I will carry you over my shoulder if I have to, but we are going to talk. Now.” She sighed heavily, as if dealing with an obstinate child.

“Fine.” She turned to Dean, smiling sweetly. “I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll have this dealt with as soon as I can, and maybe you can show me that trick later tonight?” Dean shrugged with a good-natured smile.

“Sure. No problem. See you then.”

“Not bloody likely.” Draco muttered. Laylani turned back to him with a frown.

“Alright. I’m listening. Talk.”

“Not here.” He grabbed her hand and began to pull her along behind him. His grip remained fast despite her effort to pull out of it. He strode at a quick pace, leaving Laylani to practically have to run to keep up as they went through the halls. Finally they arrived at a door that Laylani did not immediately recognize. He opened the door, practically flinging her into the darkness before stepping in behind her.

Quickly he barred the door with the most powerful locking spell he knew, as well as a few for privacy and sound-proofing. Laylani stood in the dark, leaning against a shelf as she waited for him to get on with it and say whatever it was he had to say. She wasn’t afraid, Draco wouldn’t hurt her. He might be angry, he might yell at her but that was certainly nothing she couldn’t contend with.

In some sense, she knew she had over-reacted; it was fair enough for him not to want to miss class but there had certainly no need for him to tell her she was dressed like a whore. She knew that, she had been doing it for him, damn it! Why would he want to ogle other girls who dressed like that and not be willing to look twice at her? That had fueled her anger even more. She’d perhaps been a bit rash flirting so shamelessly with Blaise in front of him, but by hell he would learn what was good for the goose would be had by the gander as well.

“Hurry up. I want to get over to Gryffindor tower. I imagine what Dean has to show me will take the better part of the evening.” She saw a spell fly from his wand, and the room lit up. She realized where she was: the very same storage closet that she’d accosted him in earlier. She looked back to Draco.

“I don’t think you’ll be seeing him tonight, pet.” He advanced on her quickly, the predator cornering the prey, pinning her between himself and the wall. She glared up at him defiantly, refusing to be daunted.

“Well?-”

Anything she’d intended to say after that was muffled by his lips descending roughly on hers. His hands found firm purchase on her, one wound tightly in her hair while the other pulled her tightly against him. And she kissed him back with everything she had, all her anger, confusion, desire, and love was poured out. His tongue pillaged her mouth, making her dizzy. But in a good way.

He pulled back abruptly, breathing hard. The arm around her waist was removed as he fumbled with his belt buckle. Releasing her hair, he knocked aside the contents on the shelf behind her and lifted her to sit on it. Releasing his straining erection, he pushed up the front of her skirt.

“Is this what you wanted?” he grit out, thrusting hard into her.

“Yes.” she breathed.

With every forceful thrust, her bare thighs scraped against the wooden shelf; his tight grip on her waist was sure to leave her with bruises. And through the mind-numbing combination of pleasure and pain, she knew that without a doubt, whatever may or may not have happened with those other girls, that this was real. He was here with her now. “Harder.” she panted.

His fingers tightened their grip and he pushed against her with all his might, wanting to please her, wanting to reclaim what was his.

He bit down high on the column of her neck, so hard his incisors broke skin. He pulled back to take in his mark of possession. He’d made sure to mark her where it couldn’t be hidden by her blouse. It would not be covered or hidden. His fierce love bite would serve to remind others that she belonged to him.

“Mine.” he growled.

“Always.”

He made one last deep thrust as he climaxed with a hiss and she followed him with an ear-splitting scream seconds later. The silence that followed was punctuated only by their gasping breaths.

“That was a great talk.” she finally wheezed.

“A mite better than whatever Thomas could offer, I’d wager.” She smiled to herself.

“I don’t know. What he described to me was pretty impressive.”

“What? Laylani, just wh-” She erupted into a fit of giggles.

“His parents gave him a muggle television and video player for Christmas. He was going to show me how he charmed it to work properly at school.” She watched with no small amount of pleasure as Draco gaped, the conflicting emotions of anger for having tricked him and relief that she‘d never planned to do anything with Thomas warring over his features. “Draco, you’re it for me. Everything I want. Nobody compares to you.”

He sighed heavily and rested his head against hers. All was quiet for a moment.

“Why?” he asked finally. She shrugged, pulling out of his grasp.

“I wanted-” She blushed lightly, her eyes cast down, “I wanted you to want me again. I thought that maybe if I could make you feel like you used to, that maybe…you’d stop seeing those other girls.”

He laughed out loud. He couldn’t help himself. That’s what this had been about? He’d been worried out of his mind over what he’d done wrong that she thought he didn’t care, and it had all been about the fictional girls she kept insisting she saw? She blushed darkly and tried to disentangle herself from him, thinking he was laughing at her.

“You silly girl.” he chided, stilling her body against his. “I’ve always wanted you, always will. How many times do I have to tell you there’s no other girls?”

“But there are! I see you with them, Draco! And you’ve barely touched me all week! You won’t kiss me, hell you probably wouldn‘t even hold my hand if it didn‘t serve to keep me in easy reach! It can’t all be coincidence.” He sighed.

“There’s no one, Princess. Absolutely no one. You’re cra-” She clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t.” she said softly. “Don’t say it. I’m not crazy.” He nodded in understanding. It was one thing for the two of them to think it, but to say it aloud made it too real.

“Of course you’re not, love.” He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her against him with her legs wrapped around his waist. “Why don’t we go back to my room, spend a few hours before dinner together, just the two of us? Thomas can show you ‘his trick’ another time.” She nodded with a slow smile.

“I’d like that.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She watched through her bedroom window as the sun slowly rose over the horizon. Again she’d gone without sleeping, she’d beaten the night but just barely. One more night. She was grateful for the nights she had thus far managed to conquer sleep, knowing it would catch up with her soon enough. In some ways it already had. People were not meant to go with out sleep, it was a simple fact. She couldn’t hide in consciousness forever. Still, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

As the fiery colors of the rising sun lit up the sky, she tried to figure out what she would do next. A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearly half past six. Odd; she’d thought it later than that. Too early to wake up Draco, too early to wake up anyone really. She didn’t know if she was even allowed in the corridors this early.

Yesterday had been nice. She’d spent the afternoon with Draco, just the two of them on the couch in his quarters. She’d curled up on top of him as they’d watched the fire, his hands stroking softly through her hair and he’d listened as she told him about all the girls she’d seen him with. He’d actually listened, not just denied it flat-out. And while at the end of her account, he’d still insisted that none of it was true, it meant something that at least he had listened. She’d been tempted to stay there the rest of the evening with him, simply being held and she might have, too if Mari hadn’t been coming.

Her eyes hurt. Her head pounded. She couldn’t think straight. She’d had half a mind to ask if Mari could’ve prescribed something in their session.

Mari had been acting so peculiar lately. She’d been continuously canceling and rescheduling their sessions since the middle of January. Once or twice she’d not shown up at all. It was strange, but Laylani chalked it up to the fact that Mari was hardly what one would call organized and besides, it was probably exceedingly troublesome to get out to Hogwarts only to see her. But still, sometimes Mari just seemed so on edge about particular subjects that Laylani had begun to shy away from talking about them, simply to set her at ease. It did make it easier to keep her promise to Draco about not reporting her strange behavior to Ms. Kerrin.

Her bedroom lit with the natural light the sun provided and Laylani decided that perhaps it would be a good time to venture to the kitchens. Perhaps a bit of fruit and a cup of coffee would help perk her up. And if she could bring enough back with her, she might be able to convince Draco to eat breakfast in her rooms instead; the din of the Great Hall made her headache worse.

Wearing slippers and a warmer set of clothes, Laylani ventured into the halls. She’d taken only two steps outside her portrait when she heard something. A peculiar something. Not like last time, this something was not rustling but it was soft and rhythmic, deep and even.

Breathing.

She was almost certain she could hear someone or something’s deep, laborious breathing. It sounded to be near, too. But that was impossible. The various windows at either end of the hall let in generous amounts of light and quite simply, there was nothing there. She took a cautious step in the direction she thought it was coming from, then another. The sound grew louder. She stretched out a cautious hand, fingers searching the empty air for the source of the noise.

Suddenly the breathing hitched and fell silent, and Laylani felt something ghost underneath her fingertips. She spun around, trying to follow it with her hand and brushing it only very briefly, whatever it was before it was gone again. She made frantic waves with her hands and arms but caught hold of nothing.

Laylani was afraid. Someone, something was there. She could feel it. She had touched it. But she couldn’t see it, and it could be anywhere. Her breathing quickened and she began to slowly back away, listening intently for any sign of whatever was out there. When she thought she was at a reasonable distance, she turned and began to run as fast as she could, no destination in mind but away.

She ran. She ran and she ran and she ran. Down the stairs, down halls and rounding corners she ran without looking back. She ran and she ran until she could run no more. Until a rush of dizziness found her barely able to move, collapsed on the stone floor. It was then she found herself lost. She’d somehow managed to find herself into an unfamiliar part of the castle and, having no idea how she’d gotten there, she had no idea how to get back.

She was in a darkened empty hall, devoid of doors, windows, even paintings or tapestries the school seemed so fond of. Nothing to give her direction. She looked around, trying to find something, anything, that would at least indicate where she was, but there was nothing. She felt the cool stones of the wall against her back and realized she’d backed herself into a corner, unconsciously nervous of the open space, what it might contain. Quietly, the tears made twisted paths down her cheeks.

This was it, she could deny it no longer: she truly was going crazy. Hearing things, touching things that weren’t there?

She didn’t know how long she stayed there, bawling, before a ghost found her. Thankfully it wasn’t Peeves, he’d have been no help. She’d only had the misfortune to come into direct contact with him once, where he’d annoyed her for the better part of ten minutes with a rather lewd song about her and Draco before she finally managed a spell that hit him properly. He hadn’t bothered her after that, other than to shout names at her before quickly disappearing.

It was Sir Nicholas who’d found her, poking his head through a wall and cheerfully pointing out that she was far too pretty to be so sad. She hastily wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” she said dumbly, unsure of what else she should say.

“Think nothing of it my dear! What should bring you to this dreary part of the castle so early in the morning?”

“I-” The ghost stared at her expectantly. “I don’t know.” She lied. “I got lost.”

“Of course. Still rather new to the castle aren’t you?” She nodded. “Well my dear, you won’t find your way back sitting in the corner, will you? Up, up, on your feet!” She smiled shakily and rose, back still pressed against the wall for support. “Now where is it that you want to be going?”

“The kitchens, I guess.”

“Then let’s be off!” Sir Nicholas took the lead and she followed closely behind. “Why should you be so sad, my dear? Homesick?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, I can only surmise that a new student such as yourself might not be used to being away from home for so long.”

“Oh. I-I’ve been away for longer.”

“Really? I’d heard you’d been taught privately.” Heard? What had he heard? How had he heard?

“Well yes, I suppose I have.”

“I’d always assumed you were taught at home.” Home. An odd word. She didn’t really have a home. There was the Manor, but that was Draco’s home, not hers. Besides, Laylani was nearly certain that a house didn’t qualify as ‘home’ when one of it’s members tried to kidnap you. So where did that leave her? Homeless but not? Sir Nicholas cleared his throat and she’d realized he was still waiting awkward long moments for something to satisfy his curiosity. She mulled over her answer carefully.

“I haven’t been home in a long time. Some times it seems like forever.” Sir Nicholas nodded in understanding.

“If you’d accept a bit of advice from an old ghost my dear, I’ve found that home is where you make it.”

“Hmm.” she said with a ambiguous nod, not quite sure what the appropriate response would be.

“Well, here we are my dear, the kitchens. I trust you know how the portrait works.” She nodded.

“Yes sir. Thank you very much. You’ve been very helpful.” He smiled.

“My pleasure. Good day.” With that, Sir Nicholas took off through the far wall, leaving her to the kitchens.

Upon entering the portrait, Laylani was engulfed in a knee-high swarm of eager house elves asking if her name, if they could bring her food, how they might somehow make her life easier.

“Can I please have a cup of coffee?” she asked the room, not sure exactly who to address her question to. Almost immediately a steaming mug of the dark liquid was offered to her. “Thank you.”

“Miss Laylani!” Laylani looked up from the beaming house elf who’d brought her coffee to see Dobby scuttling through the mob of elves towards her, with a smaller elf in tow.

“Hello Dobby.” she said, sinking back on her haunches to be eye-level with the elf. “You’re just the elf I’m looking for. Who’s your friend?” The smaller elf ducked behind Dobby.

“Miss Laylani, meet Winky the house elf. Winky, be saying hello to Miss Laylani.”

“Hello Miss Laylani.” The elf shyly squeaked. Laylani grinned; a shy house elf, how novel.

“Hello Winky. Do you think you and Dobby might be able to do me a favor?” Winky raised her head and nodded, eager to be of some service.

“I need you two to bring breakfast down to the Head Boy’s room for me. A bit of a surprise for Draco, breakfast in bed.”

“Is there anything special Miss Laylani will be wanting?” Dobby asked quickly.

“I just want some fruit; I’m sure you know what Draco likes best.” Dobby nodded slowly, the look in his eyes troubled.

“Is Miss Laylani only wanting fruit? Maybe she would like toast, eggs, yogurt?” Her stomach churned at the very idea.

“No thank you, Dobby.” Dobby nodded again. “Can you be there in maybe ten minutes? Is that enough time?”

“Of course Miss Laylani.”

“Perfect.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She’d checked to see if he was still asleep when she arrived, and indeed he was. She smiled at the image of him, sprawled over his side of the bed and clutching a pillow where she would normally reside.

Now, carrying a tray of breakfast, she eased through the door, and quietly walked over to place the tray on the side table before joining him on the bed, absentmindedly stroking the soft lines of his face.

“Good morning, good morning.” she sang softly. He opened his eyes, bleary with sleep.

“Muh?” She laughed quietly.

“Good morning Draco.” She leaned down and kissed him softly. He smiled as she pulled away.

“Good morning pet. What time is it?”

“Nearly seven.”

“Hmm.” he groaned as he stretched. “A bit early yet, isn’t it?”

“I brought you breakfast.” He rolled to his side to face her.

“Really? A wake up call, a kiss and breakfast? Such service, Princess. All my mornings should start like this.”

“Soon enough.” He smiled again and she went on. “So what would you like first? We’ve got almost everything here; Dobby and Winky really outdid themselves. You’ve got pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon…”

“Are you going to be spoon feeding me as well?”

“You aren’t that lucky.”

“But I’m pretty damned lucky, you’ll have to admit.” he drawled, brushing loose strands of hair out of her eyes. She smiled warmly at him causing him to smile back. She passed him a plate of the things she knew he had a particular fondness for, pancakes smothered in butter and syrup with a side of bacon and sausage and he began to eat eagerly. She took a small sip of the hot coffee and grimaced at the rather bitter taste.

“I didn’t know you drank coffee.” he said, his mouth full of food. She shrugged.

“I do now.” Setting the mug aside, she went about fixing herself a plate of the fruit Dobby had prepared and began to pick at it.

Draco was well into his second plate when it came to his attention that she was still on her first, and much of what few things she placed on her plate still remained. She’d picked apart most of her food but she’d actually eaten very little. He put down his fork and set a hand on her thin hip.

“Do I have to spoon feed you?”

“What?” He gestured to her plate with one hand while the other that rested on her hip moved up under her sweater to stroke along her ribs.

“You’ve barely touched your food. Aren’t you hungry?” She blushed lightly, uncomfortable with the feeling of his fingers strumming along her prominent ribcage.

“I had something earlier while I was in the kitchens.” He looked at her intently.

“Have a bite of mine. You‘re getting a bit too thin, love.” She shook her head to the forkful of sausage he offered her. “I’d feel a lot better if you did. Please?” She sighed, but ate the bit of sausage.

“Because it’s all about what makes you feel better, isn’t it?” she teased.

“Of course.” he replied, presenting her with another bite of eggs.

She ate another few bites of the foods he offered her as well as a bit more of what was on her plate. It wasn’t sitting well with her stomach, but at least it was sitting. Finishing their breakfasts, she placed their plates with the tray on the nightstand and curled up in his arms. She sighed happily, feeling him slip his hand under the back of her sweatshirt, rubbing her back comfortingly. He shifted to kiss her neck.

“I’ve missed this.” she sighed happily. He smiled against her skin. Since it had been brought to his attention that he’d been denying her affection, he’d made a conscious effort to rectify it. Draco hadn’t even been aware that he’d been doing it until she’d mentioned it yesterday, but when he thought about it, she was right. He hadn’t intended to, he’d just been so caught up in watching after her and making sure she didn’t arouse suspicion, it had just happened.

His smile broadened as he rolled on top of her. Draco had the whole day to make it up to her, and that’s exactly what he intended to do.

He continued to kiss along her neck, her collarbone, up to her jaw. She smiled softly, her eyes closed in bliss. His lips moved down her to her ear, down to her shoulder, inwards towards the center of her chest, meeting the collar of her sweatshirt. He frowned; the sweatshirt had to go.

He pulled back, smiling at the look of content he’d put on her face, and began to tug upwards at the hem of her sweatshirt while she made no effort to help him. When the bunched fabric finally reached her underarms, she still hadn’t moved to help remove it. He spoke softly.

“Laylani.” No response, but her soft breathing. He tried again, a little louder this time. “Laylani!” He shook her gently and her eyes snapped open with a start.

“Huh?”

“Were you sleeping?” he asked incredulously.

“What? Of course not.” He let out a bark of a laugh.

“I can’t believe it! Here I am, trying to seduce my girl and you fall asleep!” She blushed darkly. His tone turning serious, he added, “Do you want to sleep, Princess?” Eager as he might be, Laylani had looked miserably tired for weeks now; a few extra hours of sleep could do her nothing but good. Besides, it was early yet; a few hours of sleep might do him good as well.

Seeing that he was actually considering it as a possibility, she shook her head emphatically. “I want you to make love to me.” Draco smirked. That could certainly do them both good, too.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sunday was a hard morning to face. She nearly hadn’t made it.

After spending all of Saturday in Draco’s rooms yesterday, he hadn’t understood when she’d tried to leave as curfew drew closer.

“Why don’t you just spend the night here?” he’d asked. She hadn’t been sure what to tell him. In truth, she’d love nothing more than to stay with him, but to do so, she would have had to submit to being tied down and she couldn’t bring herself to be that vulnerable, even with Draco.

“You know why I can’t stay. Your mother’s coming tomorrow. Early.” He rolled his eyes.

“I can have you there in time.” He didn’t mention the fact he’d have to be up early for another infernal meeting with that sodding Order. He was thankful he only had to attend the ones that discussed Laylani that took place while she and his mother were together. He shuddered to think of having to participate in their other countless meetings he was sure they had. They probably spent that time crocheting legwarmers for stray cats or something equally ridiculous.

“Draco, you aren’t going to want to be up that early.”

“No, but I’d do it for you anyway, love.” She smiled.

“And while it’s appreciated, I still should go.”

Draco sighed. “Alright, if you should change your mind, you know where to find me. Come by when you and Mum are done.” She nodded.

She’d nearly dozed off nearly a half a dozen times that night, much to her annoyance. She’d started out her conscious vigil knowing she couldn’t elude sleep forever, but she was still not yet willing to concede such defeat.

She found she was becoming increasingly sluggish. She’d moved slowly through her morning, not even bothering to make an appearance at breakfast. She watched herself dress in the mirror, making sure all the buttons, ties, and zippers were properly done up. It took her several tries despite that to do up her blouse. In the end, she’d forgone it in favor of a tee.

She was halfway through a sloppy job of her makeup, trying desperately to disguise the heavy bags under her bloodshot eyes, when there was a knock at the door. Panicking, she checked the clock as she went to answer it. How could Narcissa have arrived already, it was only…Well, look at that. It was quarter to ten. She could have sworn the clock read 9:30 when she’d stepped into the bathroom. Dammit! How had that happened?

Opening the portrait with every intent of apologizing profusely to Narcissa for running late, she was swept aside by the woman, followed by at least half a dozen house elves.

“Hello…Narcissa.”

“Hello, dear.” Narcissa turned and kissed Laylani’s cheek as she removed her cloak, carelessly tossing at one of the many house elves. She stopped for a moment to critically examine Laylani’s appearance. Taking hold of Laylani’s chin, she scrutinized her face. “Darling you look tired. Have you been sleeping well?”

“Um, yes. I mean, for the most part. I guess it’s just nerves. Starting to get those wedding jitters, you know?” She smiled weakly.

Narcissa seemed to accept this and began busying herself with setting up a display the literal dozens of tablecloth swatches. Laylani tried to force a smile.

Hooray.

Tablecloths.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco arrived early to the meeting, eager to get it over with. He could feel the Order of Phoenix smarmy lovey-dovey goodness thick in the air. It made him want to vomit. He took a seat near the window, watching his mother walk down the path towards the school from where she had apparated in Hogsmeade, several house elves carrying fabrics, china, and papers following close behind her.

Dumbledore’s office began to fill as students and faculty arrived through the stairwell and outside members flooed in. He was glad he’d chosen a spot away from the fireplace, noting with distaste how much soot was being tracked in.

The Golden Trio entered, as well as Ginny and fit themselves on to the sofa against the wall opposite of Draco. Ginny was squished down at the far end between the armrest and Harry, Ron seeming unconcerned about how much room he took on his end. She was practically in Harry’s lap. It was all she could do not to encroach on what little space he had. Suddenly she felt his hand next to hers, the sides of their hands brushing.

Ginny didn’t want to move her hand. It felt nice like this, almost as if it were purposely done. Like they were a couple, so in love they were finding little ways to touch one another with no one else the wiser. Still, it probably made poor, clueless Harry uncomfortable. She was about to remove her hand when a strange thing happened.

Harry’s little finger came to rest on top of hers. She bit her lip, too afraid to hope but still, that had to have been done on purpose. Surely… Ginny could barely contain a gasp. He’d done it again! Harry’s hand had moved over just a bit more so that now his ring finger covered her hand as well. Could it be Harry was finally catching on? She held still, afraid to do anything that might discourage his subtle advances. As the minutes passed, Harry’s hand slowly creeped over hers, covering it with his own.

She dared to glance towards him, finding him looking towards her bashfully. Ginny couldn’t contain her small gleeful smile. To her delight, Harry smiled back. Shyly, she rubbed her thumb over his and his hand squeezed hers. There was another exchange of timid smiles.

The night of the incident in the locker room, Harry had lain awake in his bed, unable to sleep. The gears in his mind had been turning at full capacity, trying to figure out what had happened between him and Ginny. He’d known about her silly schoolgirl crush on him back when he was a second year, but this was different. Ginny was not a silly schoolgirl anymore as he’d come to realize. Ginny was a woman. And what a woman, if he did say so himself. When had she gone from being a sweet-faced tagalong to such a lovely young lady? And how had he missed it?

It was just after two when he’d come to realize he was attracted to Ginny. Clever, brave, funny, beautiful Ginny. It was half-past three when he’d accepted it. She wasn’t just ‘Ron’s little sister,’ she was now ‘Ginny, stunning, dateable woman.’ It was five to five when he’d decided that he wanted to be the one to date Ginny. It had just a question of how to proceed. And now, there they were, his hand on top of hers and her smiling at him.

Draco rolled his eyes, having been the unfortunate one to witness Scarhead’s pathetic juvenile advances on Weaselette from across the room. Really, that dreadful Weasley blush was a dead give away.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “If we could please come to order?” A quiet settled over the room. It always amazed Draco how Dumbledore’s soft voice always seemed to command attention. The old wizard continued.

“The matter immediately at hand is still our Miss Stanners. Mister Malfoy, I trust all is still well with your fiancée?”

Draco nodded. “Yes sir. Same as always.” Hermione frowned.

“That’s not true. You must have seen her on Friday.” All members of the room turned to him with a pointed look. Draco flushed slightly. Trust her to bring up something so minute as a change in clothes.

“That’s nothing Granger.”

“I’d hardly call it nothing.” Draco frowned. Why did she have to harp on everything?

“That was about me.” Hermione opened her mouth to continue, and Draco knew she wouldn’t shut up until she found out exactly what had happened. “She thought I was seeing other women; that was her way of trying to keep my attention. Oh don’t make that face Granger, I would never.”

Those who were looking at him turned to look at Hermione. Her snide face disappeared and she blushed, but stayed silent. Draco smirked. So, being the focus of an audience embarrassed the Head Girl; he would have to remember that.

“She nearly caught me yesterday.” Draco turned to look at the source of the voice, one of his many DADA professors, Lupin. “I’d, well, I’d fallen asleep,” he said, a touch embarrassed. “She was nearly on top of me when I woke up. I barely made it out of her reach. I think I might have startled her.”

Draco frowned. She hadn’t said anything remotely like that to him. He would have to ask her about it later.

The meeting went on. They discussed Laylani’s school work, all the professors noting a slight dip in her grades. Draco made a mental note to see to that. Those who’d been researching her prophecy, trying to find some loophole, some small cause for hope, discussed their progress. So far they had nothing. All they’d found was that occasionally prophecies that were not properly completed did not come to pass. No cause for celebration there. Surveillance noted nothing new except she seemed to be up earlier and earlier in the mornings. Not suspiciously early, at least on most days, but still rather early for a seventeen year old girl, even on weekends.

The Order would continue to list off the small changes about her he had somehow missed, and he would know exactly what to disguise. It was great, Draco mused, the system he had going.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Narcissa had arrived over an hour ago and in that time they’d only decided which tablecloths would most compliment their choice of napkins, going over every possible subtlety and nuance. Laylani was amazed that one small woman could aggravate her headache more than all the students in the Great Hall. Narcissa truly was a wonder of a woman. Laylani no longer wonder how or why she put all that time and energy into planning socials, balls, and galas; the woman was obviously made for it.

“So have you decided whether you’d like Lucius to escort you down the aisle?” Laylani’s eyes widened; that had certainly come out of nowhere.

“I - Well, I’ve thought about it a lot and…and I’ve decided that I would like to - to walk town the aisle myself?” Laylani bit her lip. She’d meant for it to sound authoritative, for Narcissa to understand she was making a decision. Instead it sounded as if she would asking for permission.

Narcissa took a quiet breath to compose herself. “Would you care to tell why?”

Laylani paled slightly, scrambling to find a credible reason. “We-e-e-ell, it’s just…that…he’s not my father. And I think…that it might seem…disrespectful, to my father. I mean, it’s just…Lucius is Draco’s father, not mine.” She wasn’t sure if there was an answer in there at all. Narcissa seemed to accept though, if hesitantly.

“I see. Well, it is your decision. If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

Narcissa turned to a house elf, pretending to busy herself with the material swatches he was holding, but secretly it served to hide her frown of disapproval. That was not what she’d had in mind. Still, she had made a promise and she would follow through with it….for now. Grabbing the swatches from the elf, she turned back to Laylani.

“Before we choose dress patterns and material, we need to discuss your bridesmaids. Now Laylani, I trust you’ve had enough time to consider who we will invite to be your bridesmaids. I’d like to hear who you consider as candidates and we can choose them together.”

“Actually, I’ve already asked a few girls… and they agreed.”

“You asked them without my consideration?”

“Well, yes. I-I didn’t think you’d mind. I mean, you did say I could have whatever I wanted, I thought this would be okay.”

“Whom exactly did you ask?”

“LavenderGinnyandHermione.”

“Pardon? I didn’t quite catch that. Remember, a lady is always articulate.” Laylani took a deep breath.

“I asked Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger.” She braced herself. She didn\'t know what to expect. Maybe yelling, screaming, anger and fury. What she did not expect was the dead silence that followed. After a few moments, she dared to look at her future mother-in-law.

Narcissa’s expression was as neutral and calm as it always was. Finally, she spoke. “Well, that is unfortunate. I suppose the only thing to do is rescind the invitation.”

“What? No!”

“Laylani, I’m afraid we have no choice. Now, why don’t you make a list of some other, more respectable girls we could ask to be your bridesmaids? Slytherin girls.”

“But Narcissa, why can’t I have my friends?” Narcissa frowned.

“Laylani, you shouldn’t have been consorting with those girls in the first place. To have them in a Malfoy wedding party would be simply unconscionable. Why don’t we ask that darling Pansy Parkinson? She’s such a lovely girl.” Laylani decided to ignore that comment for the moment.

“But why can’t I have my friends?”

“Because those, those girls you have so erroneously chosen to associate with are, are simply unacceptable! Perhaps we might be able to allow Miss Brown, but I will not have the Malfoy name dragged through the mud by that Weasley riff-raff and -”

“But if you would just talk to them, get to know them, I’m sure you would like them just as much as I do!” Narcissa looked scandalized.

“I would never lower myself to consorting with such filth! To think, even speaking to that grubby little Mudblood!”

“Don’t call her that! I know what that means and that’s just horrible! How can you even bring yourself to say that!”

“Laylani!”

“Lav, Ginny and Hermione are the only girlfriends I’ve got! Your precious Slytherin girls will barely look twice at me! Most of them fucking hate me!” Laylani’s could feel her anger rising.

“Language, Lay-”

“And that ‘darling’ Pansy Parkinson of yours? Do you know the only thing she’s said to me was to call me a stupid bitch and if I looked at Draco again she’d hex me to bits? That’s your darling perfect fucking girl.”

“Laylani, you’re being quite ridiculous. Please-”

“No! I’m not being ridiculous.” She jumped to her feet, knocking over the coffee table in front of her. “You’re the one being fucking ridiculous, using such stupid fucking words as if they mean something! Do you know how ignorant you sound? How fucking stupid it makes you sound? All the fucking culture in the world and you say all these awful things! You’re so fucking stupid! Fucking blind!” She knew she was out of control but she couldn’t bring herself to stop,

“I had no-”

“And do you want to know why I don’t want to walk down the aisle with Lucius? Why don’t you ask him? Why don’t you ask him what he did to me?” She shook her head angrily. “Get out.”

“Laylani, I had no i-”

“Get out!” she screamed. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

“Laylani!”

“GET OUT!” With one last scowling look, anger tempered by confusion and sorrow, Narcissa stalked to the door with as much grace as she could muster and swept out of the room, leaving her house elves to follow in her wake.

Laylani was still in a fit of fury, unable to control herself, unwilling to try. It felt good to be angry. Besides, why shouldn’t she be angry? How much had she had to put up with since she’d arrived? She hadn’t asked for any of it! She’d never asked them, not one of them for anything, and just because they gave her things did it give them some right to run her life?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The voices droned around Draco, talking about plans that had nothing to do with Laylani, so of course, he couldn’t care less. He’d distracted himself by looking out the window, watching the students who dared to brave the brisk March morning.

It was when he caught sight of his mother briskly walking across the lawn followed by a troupe of house elves that he knew something was wrong. He’d kept a close eye on the clock since the Order had finished discussing Laylani, eager to get out of the realm of these do-gooders, and he knew it was only a few minutes after eleven-thirty. His mother usually stayed until at least one. Why was she leaving now?

To repeat, something was wrong.

He stood up abruptly. “I have to go.” He strode across the room to the stairwell, disregarding the curious stares and murmured comments, focusing only on getting to Laylani.

He found her in her stomping around her rooms, fuming to herself. She was throwing things as well as having things throw themselves, doors and drawers slamming of their own volition, making as much noise as she could.

“Laylani?” She turned to him, eyes ablaze with fury. He’d never seen her look like that before.

“What?” she yelled.

“Calm down, love.” This only seemed to further enflame her anger.

“NO! No I will not calm down! Quit telling me what to do! That’s all you people do is tell me what to do! I’m sick of being bossed around by you and your fucking family! You never ask me what I want!”

“What haven’t we given you that you want?” he asked, indignant out of habit. He felt the ingrained need to protect the Malfoy family name.

She seemed to struggle for a moment, trying to find a response.

“We’re getting married on my birthday! No one ever asked me about that! Maybe I don’t want to get married then! Do you know I’ve never even had my own birthday? And now I never will because it’s always going to be our anniversary instead!”

“Fine.” he shouted, loud enough so she would hear him over her tirade. She stilled, as did the uproar around her. “Fine,” he repeated, his voice much softer this time as he slowly approached her, cautiously taking her into his arms. “We don’t have to have it on your birthday. It’s just a tradition, it isn’t necessary. We can have it on another day, any day you like, alright? Any day you like.”

He felt her shaking in his arms and he realized she was crying. “Laylani?”

“Draco, your mother hates me.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

“What? Of course not, love. My mother adores you. She could never hate you.” She started to cry harder and Draco began to move them in the direction of the sofa. Once they were comfortably seated, he spoke. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

She sniffled quietly. “Everything was fine at first, and then we were talking about bridesmaids. She, she wanted me to pick and I told her I already had. I already asked my friends, and I told her that and she got upset. She was mad that I asked Lav and Gin and Hermione and she told me I had to, to un-ask them. She - She wanted me to pick Slytherin girls, ‘respectable’ girls she called them. She even said I should ask ‘darling’ Pansy Parkinson. And then she called Hermione that - that name.” She frowned angrily. “And I was just so angry, so mad that she would call her that and she would just love Parkinson just because of their families, that she wouldn’t even try to get to know Hermione and Gin. And I yelled at her, I just, I was just so angry and I couldn’t seem to stop. I just went off on her and I, I made her leave.”

Draco was quiet, a pensive frown on his face. While he really, really didn’t like the idea of the Weaselette and that bossy bint being in his wedding party, they were her friends. And really, Pansy Parkinson? The only reason she’d go to their wedding would be to poison the cake.

There was a knock on the portrait and both Draco and Laylani looked up, he at the door, her at him. She wiped her eyes quickly.

“I’ll handle it.” he said firmly. She nodded, grateful not to have to deal with guests just now.

Making sure she was out of sight in the bedroom, he opened the portrait to see the entire Golden trio. He rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?”

“My fiancée lives here, Potter. Guess.”

“Then where is she?” He rolled his eyes with a sneer.

“She’s in the bedroom. She doesn’t want guests right now.”

“Is she alright? Is everything-”

“She’s fine. Just a bit of a spat between her and my mother.” He saw the flicker of understanding register on the Head Girl’s face while those of her two associates remained as dull as ever. In typical Weasley fashion, Ron was first to open his mouth.

“Just what the hell did your mother-”

“Leave it alone, Ron.”

“But ‘Mione-”

“Just leave it alone.” Then Harry tried.

“Hermione, who knows what-”

“It’s none of our business Harry, lets just go.” Draco nodded slightly to her in appreciation before closing the portrait on them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hermione!” Ron spluttered, “What the hell was that?”

“Yeah!” joined Harry. “Who knows what the hell could have happened to Laylani!”

“Exactly what Draco said.”

“Don’t tell me you believed that lie?”

“It wasn’t a lie.”

“Oh, and how do you know that, huh?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because Laylani asked me and Gin to be her bridesmaids, and I can’t imagine Mrs. Malfoy would be to pleased to know that a mudblood and a blood traitor were invited to be in her son’s wedding party.”

Harry and Ron exchanged guilty glances.

“Oh.” Hermione shrugged to herself. When would they learn that she was always right?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

‘Not pleased’ was an understatement in describing Narcissa Malfoy.

Lucius sat in his study, going over the week’s business reports from the various companies that composed Malfoy Enterprises. His wife would be back just after noon, and then they intended to go to Diagon Alley to meet with the wedding coordinator and further implement Laylani’s wedding plans.

Not that he wanted to go, but it seemed wise to try to keep his wife happy. She still hadn’t entirely forgiven him for not mentioning Laylani’s illness to her. He’d given the excuse that the school had assured him it was nothing serious and that he hadn’t wanted it to upset her. In truth, he hadn’t gotten the letter until two days after the fact, having first gone through the rigorous punishment from the Dark Lord then a series of healing and soothing spells from a ‘doctor’ in Knockturn Alley that could be trusted to keep his mouth shut for a few Galleons. Anyhow, the long and short of the mater was she’d asked him to accompany her and he’d agreed, if under duress.

Suddenly, the walls began to shake. Books fell of the shelves, piles of parchment fell off the desk in disarray, the glass decanter rocked off the desk and shattered on the floor. It was as if the entire house had felt a collective shudder.

He’d just gotten to his feet with the intent to find out just what the hell had happened when the door to his study swung open with a mighty gust of wind to reveal Narcissa in all her fury.

“What did you do?”