74

Nestled in her favourite spot, just in the crook of his arm, she gazed at his sleeping face in the early hours of the morning. It was a wretched beginning, having such indescribable feelings for the most unlikely of candidates.

"How am I ever going to explain this?" she sighed, being careful not to wake him as she slipped out from beneath the covers. Pulling on her favourite green dressing gown of his, left draped over the back of a chair by a House Elf in preparation for the morning, she tiptoed across the room and into the wardrobe. Her jewellery was where he had left it on the dressing table, carefully laid on the rectangle of blue velvet that was meant to protect the stones from hard surfaces. Finding the eternity ring in the darkness, she walked quietly through the bedroom and slipped out the French doors onto the large balcony.

Settling herself on her favourite chaise lounge, she pulled the dressing gown tighter about her shoulders and gazed at the many twinkling facets in the moonlight. The ring was by no means obtrusive on her finger, but the stones were larger than she had ever seen in an eternity ring. She knew that it would not have come cheap; the stones flawlessly set and brilliant beyond measure. She twirled it round and round in her fingers, the stones glowing in the moonlight. The thought of whether he meant it had been dogging her mind since she had found the ring. Could it be that the man lying inside asleep was offering her his heart? Would Lucius Malfoy ever admit something like that?

"You know," his voice sounded from the doorway, "most people sleep in beds." Jumping a good few inches off her seat, she quickly slipped the ring into the pocket of her dressing gown.

"I know," she sighed, "I just had some things on my mind."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No," she shook her head, the lie whispering past her lips easily, "it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"No." she sighed, standing up and pulling the dressing gown tighter around her against the autumnal chill that permeated the air. "I'm not sure of a lot of things at the moment."

"You can be sure of me." He whispered in her ear, sidling up behind her and wrapping his arms about her waist.

"Promise?" she asked with a small smile.

"No matter where I am." He nodded. "Promise." They stood there for a few minutes longer, gazing out over the dark grounds before he spoke again.

"Can we go back in now? I'm freezing!"

"Serves you right for coming out unsuitably attired." She chastised him with a smirk, following him back inside.

"You're not exactly one to talk." He shot back as she disappeared inside the wardrobe and replaced the ring.

"Does it really matter?" she asked as she reappeared, slipping the lavish robe off her shoulders and crawling in next to him.

"No." he sighed, pulling her to him and holding her close.

"You know," she said quietly in the still room, "I did mean it earlier. You do deserve me. I owe you so much, I mean; you risked your life for me."

"You have no debt to me." He shook his head, looking at her in the darkness. "Considering past events," he said slowly, "I find the notion of you owing me anything, frankly, quite perverse."

He chuckled in the dark and pulled her closer, the discussion at an end. She smiled contentedly as he stroked his hands through her hair, lulling her back towards sleep. This was what it was meant to feel like.

She woke promptly in the morning, despite only having gone to sleep in the early hours. Slipping carefully out of bed, she pulled on her pyjamas and dressing gown before slinking out of the door. After being furnished with a steaming mug of tea by the house elves down in the kitchen, she meandered back to his study and settled herself in his desk chair; curling her feet beneath her and looking out at the grounds as the sun rose higher in the sky. She was just taking a sip of tea when someone gave a soft cough in the dimly lit room. Her hand jerked and tea slopped down her front, burning her through the thin cotton of her top.

"Damn." She cursed under her breath before looking round to see who it was. "Who's there?" she asked the empty room. "Lucius?"

"Not quite." A voice replied. She watched as a stately man, who had a distinct resemblance to Lucius, appeared in a large picture frame to her right. "Abraxas Malfoy." He introduced himself and gave her a small bow.

"Ah yes," she leaned back in her chair and turned to face him, taking a languid sip of her tea, "the father." She gave him an appraising look. She could definitely see where Lucius got his features from, although Abraxas was broader still and had a set of quite fearsome whiskers that put Kathryn in mind of an old Muggle General, or something along those lines.

"Kathryn Potter." She introduced herself, giving him a nod of acknowledgement.

"Ah yes," he used her wording, "the lover."

"Nice to meet you too." She shot back dryly. "And to what do I owe this conversation?"

"I merely wish to ascertain the character of the woman my son deems so worthy." He explained, looking at her with cool, calculating eyes.

"Well, I suppose I could oblige."

"I knew he must be up to something when he kept on covering the portraits, I just hadn't imagined that the something would be you."

"Well, surprise." She drawled coolly. "To be honest I never would have considered it possible that I could be anything to Lucius Malfoy, so I suppose that we are equally shocked."

"He cares for you, you know." This statement came as quite a shock; she hadn't expected him to be this candid.

"Really?" she asked quietly.

"More than I have ever seen him care for anyone before." Abraxas explained. "He was always very careful with his emotions, kept them private. Just like I taught him."

"What a good son." She mused. "Did you teach him to follow a megalomaniac with tendencies towards genocide, or was that his own choice?"

"I taught him the beliefs which I considered appropriate," he replied cautiously, "so in a sense I am partially to blame."

"That alliance could cost your son everything," she reminded him quietly, "it is going to cost your grandson dearly too."

"From what I have managed to discern, your presence might diminish such harsh consequences, at least for my son."

"That is yet to be seen, what I have said could destroy him." She sighed.

"So how long have you been involved?" he asked inquisitively.

"Two years in total. The first very unwillingly on my part; he hurt me more than I could possibly explain." She told him quietly. "The second was much more desired."

"To be honest, I never expected him to take a mistress." The portrait Abraxas shook his head. "He always understood the image he had to maintain."

"I was never his mistress!" she shot back angrily. "I wish people would get that into their heads."

"My dear, what else could you have been?" he said with a mild chuckle. "It is a centuries old tradition."

"Well, for a year I was an object for him to use and abuse at his leisure." She explained firmly, setting her mug down with a bang. Abraxas grimaced slightly. "Oh yes," she said with relish, "what do you think of your son now? Was that behaviour that you taught him too?" silence hung in the air before she spoke again.

"After that ended, I saw him three times before Narcissa died, that is in no way enough to qualify me as his mistress. Mistresses are more long term affairs, of which wives are usually aware." She pointed out.

"Then if he treated you so ill, why are you still here?" he shot back, apparently quite a spirited fellow, even in portrait form.

"Because," she took a deep breath, "because I care for him too."

"Ah," a smile flickered across his features, "I thought as much. I have had enough time to watch you after all."

"And what are your conclusions?" she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear.

"All in all," he paused for effect, "I think you are a fine young woman."

"Thank you," she nodded in acknowledgement, "but many see it otherwise at the moment."

"Of course, Narcissa was a fine woman too." He mused. "Very fine."

"Well I'm glad I've just about passed muster." She sighed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

"I didn't mean it like that," he shot back, "what I mean is that she was, and you are, fine in very different ways."

"Such as?"

"Narcissa was fine because she was raised to be so. She was a young woman of considerable inheritance and very good, pure-blood family."

"Because they are the most important qualities." She commented wryly.

"At that point they were." He offered by way of justification. "She understood her place was at the side of, and always behind her husband. She understood the duty she had to give him an heir to the family name. She had grace and poise and was always impeccably presented, thus preserving the name of the family."

"I'm sure you were very pleased."

"Oh, we were." He nodded. "You, however, are most different. You were not raised to be a fine lady; you were raised to be who you are. From what I have managed to glean from general conversation, that is a kind, brave and fiercely loyal young woman. You have experienced much pain in your life, yet show little sign of resentment and are capable of forgiveness."

"Thank you." She was quite shocked that this was his opinion of her.

"Whereas Narcissa's beauty was strictly maintained with powder and pins, yours is free and intense. You do not care for appearances when you are in the house," he went on, "you are quite happy to go about business in your pyjamas. Narcissa would never let herself be caught out of her rooms so improperly attired."

"It's comfortable," she shrugged, "why should anyone be bothered anyway?"

"There's another key difference you know," Kathryn couldn't believe he was still going on, "you are quite like Lucius in many respects. You match him. Lucius has always been political. I came from an age where things were sorted with wands, not words. Lucius, however, he has always been a political animal. Not that he can't stand up and fight if needs be."

"I know that." Kathryn interrupted.

"But he knows how to gain influence, and as a consequence, get what he wants. You similarly are not afraid to throw your political weight around, form what I have seen at least. You are the equal of him the way Narcissa never was."

"And what of my blood?" she asked provokingly. "What of my family and friends, surely you must have some objections?"

"I was wondering whether you would bring that up." He shifted around uncomfortably and would not meet her gaze.

"Well, it isn't exactly something that can be avoided, considering the stock your family has put in it over the years."

"Indeed." He shifted uncomfortably again. "I don't really know how to answer, if you wish me to be honest."

"At least you admit it." She replied with a small smile.

"I will give you an answer when I know," he promised, "after all, time has changed; blood purity is of little matter to most."

"Very well." She nodded. "Although I have a nagging feeling that it will be the distinction between 'fine' and 'very fine'." She stood and vanished her empty mug with a wave of her wand. "I should get going," she glanced over at the clock, "Lucius might be up now."

"It has been a pleasure, Miss Potter." He gave her a small bow.

"It has." She smiled, nodding her head in acknowledgement before walking back towards the door.

"You know," he called just as she was stepping over the threshold, "what makes you very fine is not your blood, it is the fact that you do not abandon him." All Kathryn could do was nod in response before disappearing round the door, she had no words.

She walked slowly down the long gallery, looking at the generations of Malfoys that hung on the walls. The women were all elegant, although very haughty. She stopped before a portrait of Lucius with his parents. He must have only been the same age as she was now, maybe a year or so younger, yet he had the look in his eyes of someone much older. He had been very handsome then too; his father's chiselled featured softened by his mother's refined face. His eyes held the same look that she had seen trained in her direction so many times.

Moving on, she found a portrait of Lucius and Narcissa on their wedding day. Peering at the date in the corner, next to the artist's signature, she calculated that he was only twenty one and, from her best recollection, Narcissa was eighteen. They were outside somewhere, possibly the gardens, although she couldn't really tell. Narcissa's hair was held up in an elegant French twist and had small white flowers pinned artfully in it. Her smile was small, demure, but genuine as she held her delicate, finely crafted bouquet. Lucius had a small smile on his face, but he did look satisfied; as if he knew he'd made his parents proud by marrying the right girl.

Looking further, she found a portrait of Narcissa on her own. She was sat on a chaise lounge in the downstairs drawing room and, although she did not look much older than in her wedding portrait, her face had changed. It was cold, aloof; the look in her eyes saying that she was superior to everyone else and she knew it. It was an expression that Kathryn had seen her wear many times.

Her official portrait, as it were, was next to the large one of Lucius in the middle of the gallery. Had this one been wearing the same expression, she couldn't tell; she was turned steadfastly away from Kathryn and she doubted that she would deign to look at her any time soon.

"I never stole him you know." She said quietly. "Whatever you may think it was like, it wasn't. It didn't begin wilfully, at least, certainly not on my part. And I never would've wished you dead." She finished, hoping to mend something between herself and a woman she never knew.

"Don't talk to me." Narcissa's voice was icy cold. She gave Kathryn one haughty, hateful glance over her shoulder before sweeping out of her frame.

Kathryn sighed and kept on walking. Was she ready to add her face these walls? She had never taken Divination but, looking into her future, one thing she could certainly see was Lucius. More conflicted than ever, she walked back to her room, the curtains now open and light flooding into the house. Was she ready to be mistress proper of all this? It was more than she'd ever dreamed of, although, it was true that most of her dreams had centred on surviving her teenage years.

Lucius was stirring as she slipped back through to door, his arms seeking her out across the mattress. She smiled when she saw him; his eyes only half open, his hair messy and falling in front of his eyes. Crossing the room, she perched on the mattress beside his head.

"I'm here." She whispered in his ear, stroking a hand through his hair and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked blearily, rubbing sleep out if his eyes.

"Just woke up," she shrugged, "went and had a cup of tea."

"How nice," he murmured, "now come here." Wrapping his arm awkwardly around her waist, he rolled sharply over; pulling her with him so that she ended up lying next to him.

"Very mature." She chided as he hugged her close.

"It's Saturday morning, you are allowed to stay in bed." He murmured.

"I might have things to do you know?" she replied. "Important people to meet," she listed, "strategies to plan, letters to write." She turned her head and smirked at him. "And a wonderful man to spend the day with so you'd better clear off before he arrives!"

"Oh very funny." He drawled, darting forward and capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Tangling her hands in his hair, she relished the sweet oblivion that overtook everything as he kissed her. She didn't care what other people said or what it cost her, she would gladly trade her good reputation and everything else just to be able to wake up next to him. To be brutally honest, she felt like she already had.

"Professor Snape is supposed to be coming over you know." She told him between kisses. "And I can't very well see him whilst in a compromising situation!"

"Wrong." He told her with a smile. "Severus told me to let you know that he will begin what you asked tomorrow, but will leave you in peace for the weekend as he thought you would want plenty of time and privacy."

"Oh, that's nice." She was slightly surprised at this but then again, she had discovered that there was a lot more to Snape than she had originally thought. "Still, people are coming for lunch." She remembered inviting at least Harry, Ron and Hermione the day before.

"That's hours away." She hated how good he was at distracting her, yet loved it at the same time.

"Fine!" she sighed, giving up and snuggling back into his embrace. "But promise we'll actually get up."

"Promise." He nodded. "It's just that eight in the morning is too early for a Saturday."

"Alright," she brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face, "I can't argue there." Kissing him once more, she set her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as one of his hands aimlessly stroked through her hair whilst the other held her close. After so long spent sleeping in the spacious bed with no one beside her, she relished the feel of his warm body against hers. She knew that most of the public probably thought that their relationship was nothing but physical, and that it had very little meaning beyond that. It would shock them therefore that, whilst she could not deny loving the physical aspect, the feeling of contentment that his holding her gave could surpass any other means of gratification.

A/N - Hee hee...I bet you didn't expect it to be Abraxas...did you? Anyway, seeing as we have never been given any clue as to Abraxas' appearance, I have based it on the drawings by the wonderful artist Makani who you can find on deviant art or on her own site, acciobrain. The two pictures that were my inspiration can be found on her acciobrain site:-

- 'Abraxas Malfoy' in the 2005 section

- 'Portrait of Lucius and his Parents'

Just type acciobrain into your search engine and it will probably be the first result you get! Oh, and I should probably mention that I imagine Narcissa to be a lot like the way makani draws her...not like the *rubbish* film version, I think she looks two old, and what's with the two tone hair? Narcissa is meant to be the Pureblood uber-wife...the benchmark if you will...not with two-tone hair and bad taste in clothes...oh I could go on...