Paradise Found

A/N Thank you to all who are sending reviews! They really do motivate me.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I can claim no ownership of the characters used in this fiction.

Beta’d by gardengirlgarden – Thank you!!



Alternate Agendas


Harry awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Rolling over, he noticed that the door to the balcony was open. He slipped out of bed and made his way outside, finding Hermione gazing out over the garden.

He came behind her, running his fingers along the side of her neck and pulling her hair away so he could nuzzle her soft skin. “You’re angry with me.”

“No, just disappointed,” Hermione replied, not showing any reaction to his attentions.

“That’s even worse,” Harry said, wrapping one hand around her waist and pulling her more snugly against his body. “I’m sorry I put you to sleep. I knew you’d argue with me and I just wanted to take you back as quick as possible.”

She pulled out of his arms and turned around, her eyes flashing. “You’re right, I would have argued! It’s my right to say what’s on my mind and how dare you take that away from me! Are yours the only feelings to be considered in this relationship?”

“No, of course not!”

“No? Well, you haven’t considered Draco’s and you certainly aren’t allowing for mine!”

“What do you call now? You’re expressing yourself pretty well, quite loudly as a matter of fact.”

Hermione threw her hands up. “Gah! You exasperate me, Harry!” She took a few steps towards the bedroom door and turned around. “Go to him. Make things right again. You’re both miserable, and you’re making me miserable too. Why can’t you give him the reassurance he needs? What’s so hard about that?”

“Because I shouldn’t have to do it. I’ve told him loads of times how I felt about him and he still needs more. It’s like he doesn’t believe me. He’s being a fucking child.”

“So are you! When it comes to matters of the heart, trying to prove that you’re right and being an arse about it will only tear us apart. It’s a matter of compromise, Harry. Give him what he needs, even if you think he shouldn’t need it. That’s what you do for people you love.”

Harry took a deep breath and leaned back against the balcony railing. “Why can’t I say things as eloquently as you?” He looked at her with a soft grin. “You’re right, of course. You always are.”

“So you’ll go to him?”

He sighed, thinking. Then he replied, “I’ll write him. I’ll send it along with the invitation to Ginny’s ball.”

“Why not go to him personally?”

“Like you said, it’s compromise. I’ll give in some, but then so must he.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Stubborn!” She entered the bedroom and headed for the shower.

OOOOOOO

An hour before Draco’s dinner guests were to arrive, Narcissa came rushing into the parlor, disrupting Draco’s concentration on a story he was reading.

“Draco, darling, an owl just arrived,” she announced.

“Owls arrive every day, Mother,” he frowned.

“Yes, but this may be something that will interest you.”

“Go on.”

“An invitation, dear, to Marlston. A ball is being thrown for the Weasley girl, a birthday ball,” Narcissa said.

Draco frowned deeper. “Oh, fantastic. More honors for the Weasleys. Perhaps it should be declared a wizarding holiday. Weasley Day! We can all dye our heads red and dress in threadbare garments.”

“Come now, Draco,” Narcissa scolded, “you’re much too jaded. A ball at Marlston will be a grand affair, and… perhaps, a good opportunity to repair your relationships.”

“Mother, please.” Draco scoffed.

“Oh, and I almost forgot. This arrived for you as well,” Narcissa smiled, holding up a scroll with Lord Potter’s seal on it.

Draco stood and reached for it, plucking it out of her hand. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” He looked at the address. It was addressed to him, in Harry’s writing. His heart raced with anticipation as he broke the seal and unrolled the scroll.

“I’ll leave you be,” Narcissa smiled, turning to exit.

Draco sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the paper.

“Dear Draco,

I’m sorry for my display last night and not just because Hermione is angry at me for what I did – which she is, by the way. In fact, I’m sorry I haven’t been more sensitive to your feelings regarding Ron.

I’ve been thinking about how I might feel if you had a friend over that I didn’t care for. I suppose it wouldn’t be the most pleasant thing for me either. I’m not sure I would just leave, though.

But I’m going to try to stop thinking I’m right about this and I hope you’ll do the same.

Bottom line is that I miss you, we both miss you – a lot. I really suck at apologies. You and Hermione are far better with words than I’ll ever be. But you have to know that I love you and need you with me.

Come to the ball. Even your friends are being invited, so you shouldn’t feel surrounded by Weasleys. I want the three of us together again – like it should be.

But don’t count on leaving again. You’re staying – even if I have to tie you to the bed. Not a bad idea, that!

Love, Harry”


OOOOOO


Narcissa looked about the lavish, long dining table, proud to display her prized Malfoy family china and glassware. Her only disappointment of the evening was Dudley’s attitude. Just before the guests arrived, he announced he would be dining out with his own friends and took off, ripping down the driveway in his new black sports car. She suspected that Dudley didn’t want to be surrounded by Draco’s friends, thinking they would have nothing in common.

Of course, she hadn’t heard the previous conversation Dudley had with Draco earlier.

Draco had knocked on Dudley’s door, unlocking it when the Muggle didn’t answer. He found Dudley with a pair of headphones on, lying on his bed. When Dudley opened his eyes, he sat up and tugged the listening apparatus off.

“What the fuck do you want?” Dudley growled.

“How much will it take to get rid of you tonight? I don’t want you around my friends,” Draco replied, coolly.

“You think I want to be with your freaking friends? Bunch of cock sucking…”

“Enough!” Draco barked. “Name your price.”

Dudley sneered at him, thinking it over. “How much you got?”

Draco pulled out a pouch of gold coins, tossing it into Dudley’s hand. “Good enough?”

Dudley opened the pouch, shaking the mass in his palm. “Is that all?”

Draco glared at him, pulling out one more pouch of gold. “Don’t push your luck, Dursley,” he said, tossing the second pouch.

Now Draco sat with his friends, content with the present company, except for one. His father had shown up just as they were about to be seated, causing the atmosphere to change from relaxed frivolity to guarded politeness.

Lucius Malfoy sat at one end of the long table, his wife at the other. Draco sat near the center so he’d be able to converse with the most people at once. The guests consisted of his Slytherin friends: Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson, who hadn’t been invited, but came as Theodore’s guest. Apparently they’d been spending a good amount of time together this summer.

There was one other guest that Blaise had brought, a twenty-year-old wizard from Russia by the name of Demetrius Baranov. He was quite handsome, and drew their attention often during the course of the meal.

When they were seated, Lucius greeted each guest by name, recognizing all of Draco’s long term friends. When his eyes fell on the unknown face, he said, “And you are?”

Blaise quickly interjected. “I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy. I forgot to introduce my friend. This is Count Demetrius Barannov. Demetrius, this is Mr. Lucius Malfoy.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy,” Demetrius greeted with a nod. “I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting your lovely wife when I first arrived. Your home is stunning.”

Lucius studied the young man carefully, the cogs in his mind spinning. “Baranov…” Lucius murmured. “Sounds familiar, yet… not recently.”

“I attended Durmstrang, sir, and haven’t had much time to travel the last few years. Perhaps you knew my father, Count Mikhail Baranov?”

Lucius continued giving Demetrius an analytic gaze. “I did not know him personally. But I knew of him. So I take it that he is no longer among the living, seeing that you now claim his title?”

“Yes, sir, we lost him last winter, from illness,” Demetrius replied, looking down for a moment.

“Pity,” Lucius said, almost automatically.

The dinner went on and the friends did their best to relate the most interesting events of their summers. But Draco knew the presence of his father had put a damper on things. He only hoped Lucius would retire early, so that the evening wouldn’t be a total wash.

“So, Count Baranov,” Narcissa said, sensing that one of the guests was feeling excluded from Hogwarts talk, “now that you are out of school, what is it you are doing?”

“Besides managing the Baranov estates, I spend most of my spare time researching, Mrs. Malfoy,” Demetrius replied.

“Oh? And just what do you research?” Narcissa asked.

“Demetrius is a historian,” Blaise answered. “He’s particularly interested in the history of dark wizarding families, besides his own, of course.”

“Is that right?” Narcissa replied, interested.

Demetrius nodded. “Yes, madam. In fact, I’ll admit that I begged Blaise to bring me here tonight, hoping that I might get a chance to speak with you and your family.”

Narcissa smiled. “How delightful, though the Malfoy lineage is well documented. I don’t see how I can tell you anything more than what you most likely already found in books. If you haven’t yet discovered any, we may have some scrolls in the library you can peruse at your leisure.”

“Actually, I have information on the Malfoy lineage already. What I do have are many questions regarding the Marlston family.”

It suddenly grew quiet in the dining room, as all faces turned to the newcomer.

“Blaise mentioned that Draco Malfoy was the third part of the current Triad with Lady Marlston and Lord Potter. I was hoping that perhaps I could find some answers on many things I find curious. Every time I think I’m getting somewhere in my research on Marlston history, I run up against a dead end.”

Narcissa looked at Draco, who was eying Demetrius suspiciously. She certainly could see that Marlston was a forbidden subject as far as Draco was concerned. Her son had not even confided in her regarding its many mysteries. Lucius probably knew more than she, but how much, she didn’t know.

Lucius now spoke, breaking the silence. “Perhaps there is a very good reason for these ‘dead ends’, Count Baranov.”

“I’m not looking for gossip, Mr. Malfoy,” Demetrius replied. “Simple things, like birth and death records, marriage certificates. Whenever I find something with the Marlston name on it, the writing is smudged or the scroll damaged. I know the name goes back almost fifteen hundred years, but there is not one cemetery around with a Marlston buried in it.”

“No, there wouldn’t be,” Draco now spoke. “The family has its own crypt on Marlston grounds. It’s not open to the pubic and neither is Marlston.”

“Oh… I see,” Demetrius said, disappointed. “But, perhaps I could have a few moments of your time later, Draco, if you don’t mind.”

“Actually, I do mind,” Draco replied, pointedly. “Knowledge can be a dangerous thing, Count Baranov. And when it comes to Marlston, knowledge can be… fatal.”

OOOOOOO


To everyone’s relief, Lucius excused himself immediately after dinner, claiming he had business to attend to in his study. Draco and his guests made their way outside and into the garden to enjoy the night air and to be able to speak freely with one another.

Draco sat on a bench, watching his friends laugh and converse, while his mind thought about Harry’s letter. He was secretly thrilled that Harry had made the first move, even though Hermione most likely had a strong hand in it. No matter. Draco planned to fight his impulse to run straight to Marlston. Instead, he’d wait for the ball. Let Harry suffer a little more.

Blaise now came and sat down next to Draco, offering him a cigarette.

Draco rarely smoked, and never with Hermione and Harry, as they both hated the smell. He shrugged and took Blaise’s offer, waiting a moment as Blaise lit it with his wand.

Taking a relaxing drag, he asked, “So what’s with the pretty boy busy body? You fucking him?”

They both gazed at Demetrius, who was standing with Theodore Nott and Pansy, talking about something that obviously amused them all. Pansy was wrapped around Teddy, shrieking in his ear with laughter.

Blaise smiled, “No, I’m not.”

Draco looked at Blaise as if he knew better.

“Seriously, I’m not,” Blaise insisted.

“Then you’re hoping to fuck him,” Draco stated. “You forget how well I know you, Blaise.”

Blaise shrugged. “I did drop a few suggestions here and there. But he’s only interested in the ladies.”

“Then what are you doing with him?”

“I actually had been considering courting his sister,” Blaise explained. “My mother knows their family and arranged an introduction.”

“And?”

“And she wasn’t my type. Too much of a prude. I found her brother much more interesting. We became friends – sort of.”

“What’s with courting girls you haven’t even met?”

Blaise glanced at Draco. “Not all of us have our futures mapped out like you do, Draco. I’m the last of my line, so the pressure is double for finding a suitable wife. Do you realize how difficult to find a pureblood witch who is passionate yet hasn’t been with all your friends?”

They both looked at Pansy and laughed. Pansy heard their laughter and glared at them, suspecting they were talking about her. She grabbed Teddy’s arm and put her pug nose in the air.

“If you do find a suitable witch, family-wise, she’s either a slag or a prude,” Blaise continued. “So I had to search farther afield – other countries. Now that the war’s over, everyone is thinking about their future. Speaking of which, why aren’t you blissfully naked with your lovers, planning your own? I was quite surprised to get your invitation for tonight.”

“I decided to visit my parents before the school term started,” Draco replied with a shrug.

“Trouble in paradise?” Blaise smirked.

“More like Weasleys in paradise,” Draco mumbled.

“Weasleys?” Blaise laughed. “You mean they’re visiting Marlston?”

Draco’s disgusted look was all the answer Blaise needed.


Blaise thought it wise to change the subject. “I hear Snape isn’t returning to Hogwarts. I wonder who the new Head of House will be?”

Draco shook his head, smoking and thinking about Marlston. “I don’t know,” he muttered.

“They are saying that Snape never fought in the battle, that he just took off. You think he turned coward?” Blaise asked.

Draco shrugged, hoping Blaise would get off the subject of Snape.

But Blaise had been Draco’s best friend for many years now. He could tell Draco was hiding something. “You know, don’t you?”

Draco looked at Blaise. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t be at liberty to tell you, Blaise. Sorry.”

“Lord Potter killed him, didn’t he?” Blaise asked, his eyes alight with excitement. “He’s always hated Snape.”

“No, Harry didn’t kill him,” Draco replied. “He’s not dead, but he’s not coming back either. That’s all I’m going to tell you, Blaise. Stop asking questions about this.”

Blaise lowered his voice. “He’s in the dungeons of Marlston then?”

“Blaise…” Draco said, warningly.

Blaise held up his hands in defeat. “Sorry. No more questions.”

Just then a house elf rushed over to their gathering. He stopped next to Demetrius and cleared his little throat for attention.

Demetrius looked down at the elf. “Yes?”

“Master Lucius Malfoy requests your presence in his study, sir,” the elf announced.

Demetrius nodded and followed the elf back to the house.

“What do you think that’s about?” Blaise asked, a bit worried for his new friend.

“I really don’t know,” Draco replied, nonchalantly. He looked at Blaise and grinned. “Perhaps my father finds him pretty, too.”

Blaise laughed half-heartedly, feeling responsible for bringing Demetrius here.

“So, are you going to the Weasley ball?” Draco asked.

Blaise gave Draco a strange look. “Do we have a choice? An invitation from Marlston isn’t something to ignore. Even my mother is canceling her holiday in order to be there. Surely you’ll be there, won’t you?”

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

OOOOOOO


Demetrius Baranov stood before the study door, waiting as it slowly opened on its own. He stepped into the room, see the imposing figure of Lucius Malfoy sitting behind his desk and looking intently through a large ledger. The striking blond didn’t even look up from his task, even though he knew Demetrius was in the room.

“Have a seat, Count Baranov,” Lucius said, still absorbed in the ledger before him.

There were two plush armchairs facing Lucius’ desk, and Demetrius sat down in the closer one. The mantel clock ticked loudly as he waited for Lucius to begin speaking. As the minutes wore on, Lucius slammed his ledger closed and opened another one, running his finger down a long column.

Demetrius sighed, thinking that this behavior was bordering on rude. “Sir? Was there something you needed from me?” Demetrius finally asked, wanting to get back to the party.

“Curious,” Lucius muttered, continuing his search.

“Excuse me, sir, but what is curious?”

Lucius finally lifted his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve searched all the documents and not one has your family name on it.”

Demetrius knit his brows together in confusion. “I assure you my family does exist, sir. The Baranovs…”

“You don’t understand,” Lucius interrupted. “Your existence is not in question. Your loyalty, however, is.”

“Sir?”

“Your family claims dark wizarding lineage?”

“Yes, sir, we do,” Demetrius replied.

“Yet, not one member of the Baranov family has made an oath to Lord Potter. Lord Potter has had three receiving days since the end of the war. Dark wizards from near and far came and swore obedience to him. Yet… you did not think to come to your new Lord?”

“My father passed away last winter and…”

“I do not want to hear your excuses!” Lucius snapped. “You did not have time to come to Lord Potter, yet you did have time to do research on Marlston.” Lucius stood up and walked around his desk.

Demetrius stood as well, apprehensive about what was to happen. “Sir, I intended to go, but…”

“Do you understand,” Lucius sneered, “that I can do anything to you, anything I want, and you’d have no recourse at all? The light wizards won’t help you as all dark wizards now fall under the laws of Lord Potter. And since you have not sworn obedience to Lord Potter, that makes you a rebel. The Dark Lord cares little for his kind, but will protect those who have sworn oaths to him. As for rebels, he cares not at all.”

“I’m not a rebel!” Demetrius insisted.

Lucius stepped closer. “Your mother, your sister… they are all fair game. Any dark wizard can have his way with them and Lord Potter would do nothing. He will not protect dark rebels.”

“No!” Demetrius snapped. “Leave them out of this! I’ll do this vow. Tell me when and where and I’ll be there!”

Lucius was amused, loving the position of power he was in. Normally, he enjoyed torturing rebels. There were three in his dungeons at this very moment, though he had never disclosed to Lord Potter that particular proclivity of his. Lord Potter simply said, “You take care of them, Lucius.”

And he did.

With this particular rebel, however, Lucius was in a bind.

“Fortunately for you,” Lucius said, “you’re a guest in my home tonight. Therefore, you will not suffer a punishment. However, you and your entire family must come to the ball at Marlston where you will beg Lord Potter’s forgiveness on bended knee. It will up to him whether he accepts the Baranovs. Until then, I would keep a low profile, if I were you.”

Demetrius looked away, relieved. “I understand.”

“You may go,” Lucius said. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Count Baranov.”

The door opened and Demetrius strode off quickly.

Lucius was about to return to his desk when the figure of Pansy Parkinson stepped into the room from the French doors that went outside.

“Miss Parkinson,” Lucius said. “Are you lost?”

“I…” Pansy started, nervously. She looked at the open door Demetrius had just left through and walked quickly to shut it. Then she turned and looked at Lucius. “Mr. Malfoy, I need to speak with you.”

“Apparently, you are,” Lucius replied, hoping this wouldn’t take long.

Pansy appeared nervous as she moved closer to Lucius. “You see, Mr. Malfoy, my father’s trial is next month.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“And my mother and I…, we were hoping that perhaps you’d be able to put in a few words on his behalf. You see, I didn’t get to fight in the battle and so I didn’t have a chance to request a pardon for him like the others did with their families. I just want a chance to reform him like the others have. Please, Mr. Malfoy, could you help us? It’s been… difficult without him at home.”

Lucius looked her over. “Yes, I suppose your chances for a good marriage are close to nothing.”

Pansy looked down at the ground. She expected Lucius Malfoy to criticize her, but she didn’t care. She had to try to repair what was left of her family’s name.

“Those pardons were granted by Lord Potter for loyalty and service in battle from his followers.”

“I did swear an oath to Lord Potter!” Pansy insisted.

“Yes, after you tried to have Lady Marlston killed. That really hasn’t endeared you to the Dark Lord, my dear.”

“But she forgave me. We had a truce, an understanding…”

Pansy could tell that Lucius had no interest in pleading her cause. But she had one more idea. She had hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this, but…

She stepped closer to Lucius and said, “If you put in a good word for him… I could make it worth your while.” She lifted one of her hands and toyed with the top button of her blouse.

Lucius lifted one brow. “Miss Parkinson, even if I had a taste for my son’s leftovers, which I do not, I could not support a Death Eater in court against my Lord’s wishes. My loyalty would then be in question.”

“Then, could you speak with Lord Potter about it? Tell him I would like to request a pardon for my father? I’m not asking for my brother, just my father,” Pansy insisted.

“Why should I do this? I never liked your father.”

“Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll be your… mistress… for as long as you want.”

Lucius’ eyes traveled over body, considering the offer…

OOOOO

A/N Lots of setting up for the ball in this chapter! And the ball will be… quite… interesting! Muah ha ha!

I left Lucius’ decision open at the end because I wasn’t sure if anyone was interested in Lucius/Pansy smut. So once again, here’s your chance to speak up. If you want some action between those two OR if you want Lucius to be a total arse to her, let me know.

I do so love evil Lucius!

Coming next: The ball begins!