Chapter 22
Midnight
The initial grip of icy fear that Ginny felt when she realized that the necklace had been stolen began to loosen in the face of Narcissa’s unexpectedly reasonable stance. It tightened anew at Genevieve and Odile Fougere’s additional charge. Ginny’s eyes sought her rival out, easily spotting the purple-clad matron and her vile yet lovely daughter almost immediately. Mrs. Fougere was prodding Genevieve with her fan. “Tell her, ma petite. Tell Narceesa what eet ees you saw!”
Ginny’s eyes met Genevieve’s, and then she abandoned hope.
She had been set up.
Ginny took a double punch: first at the realization that the Frenchwomen had played her like a fool- and then at the recollection that the necklace wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t really been sent from Draco.
The letters. Looking back, Ginny finally understood why the notes had seemed so stilted, so cool and so odd. She hadn’t even recognized the handwriting- and it hadn’t occurred to her to attempt to match it to the letter he had given her on the train, the letter that she had read a year too late. There was a good reason for the strangeness. Draco hadn’t written the letters at all. He didn’t intent to return.
He’d gone to France and forgotten.
Numbed this realization, Ginny barely heard what happened next.
“I ought to have told you sooner, Mrs. Malfoy.” Genevieve simpered, looking heartily pleased to discover that she held the attention of the entire room. “Only, I didn’t want to stir up trouble, and I really wasn’t sure…”
“Wasn’t sure of what?” Lucius snapped.
“About the ring.”
“Ring?” Mr. Malfoy’s brow furrowed. He looked at Narcissa. “You didn’t tell me you were missing a ring.”
Mrs. Malfoy’s brow furrowed. “I’m not.”
Clearly, it required all of Genevieve’s effort to swallow the smug grin that tried to erupt across her face. She had to bite her lower lip to hold it in, “I believe that the item in question actually belongs to your son.”
“My son?” Lucius was puzzled.
“Yes…er…Perhaps a family heirloom?” Genevieve had the audacity to pretend that it pained her to expose Ginny Weasley’s crime. She, along with the rest of the room, watched Lucius Malfoy’s face as realization finally dawned.
“She has my son's ring?” Lucius’s skin flushed with fury. Ginny barely had time to flinch as he lifted his wand and snapped, “Accio anulus Malfoy!”
Ginny felt a sting in the bodice of her gown. She had stashed the momento there out of sight while she wore the other necklace. Breaking free of its chain, the ring whizzed through the air to Mr. Malfoy’s outstretched hand. He caught it neatly, and then pinched it between his finger and thumb, nearly shaking with rage as he advanced on her once again.
“How dare you.” Lucius’s voice was like an ice-blue flame, burning with cold fury. “How dare you take this ring? It’s been worn by the Malfoy heir for thirteen generations!”
“I didn’t take it!” Ginny weakly repeated a protest she knew no one would heed. Tears were streaming down her face as she insisted. “I didn’t steal the ring!”
“If you didn’t steal it, where did you get it?” Lucius sneered, “Someone ‘gave’ it to you?” His face betrayed surprise when Ginny nodded her head.
Cold grey eyes narrowed, “Who?”
“I did.”
A gasp shivered through the crowd as all eyes turned to the entry hall.
Ginny turned, barely daring to believe what she had heard. “Draco.” She breathed underneath her breath.
“Draco?” Most of the redness drained from Lucius’s cheeks as understanding began to set in.
“What are you doing here?” Mr. Henri Fougere, unnoticed until this moment, rushed forward, stepping in front of the younger Malfoy, “You’re supposed to be…”
“Working?” Draco hissed with a curious inflection. “I decided to skive off tonight. I hope you don’t mind. It was getting a little cramped at the office.”
Narcissa gasped, reading the implication in his tone, “What are you saying Draco?” She demanded. “Why didn’t you answer my owls?”
“I wasn’t allowed to write.” Draco gave Henri Fougere a look that could freeze lava, but then continued toward his parents. “I wasn’t allowed to receive letters either.”
“Surely you aren’t claiming that Henri’s held you as some sort of…prisoner…in France?” Lucius looked between his son and his wife, utterly perplexed. “Why in Merlin’s name would he do that?”
“To ensure that I wouldn’t be here tonight.” Draco glared at the Frenchman, even as he internally admitted that the tactic was a very Malfoy-like thing to do. It was no surprise why Lucius and Henri had concocted a merger. Mr. Fougere’s business methods were well-suited to his father’s own.
“But why would he want to do that? Why should he stop you from coming home?” Lucius continued.
“Because I still have time to change my mind.”
Ginny’s body began to shake as Draco hurried to her side. He took the ring from his astonished father’s fingers and pressed it back into Ginny’s hands. “I’m sorry, Ginny.” He said soulfully, “I couldn’t get here any sooner. It was a mistake to go to France. Almost as soon as I Apparated over, Henri and his minions locked me away. I swear I tried.” He returned his attention to his father. “Henri knew that I was planning to break the contract. He didn’t want to give me a chance.”
“Break the contract? Why? How?”
“By marrying Ginny Weasley.” Draco answered as evenly as he could manage. This time, his words could not be mistaken or cleverly explained away by Genevieve Fougere. He kept his chin up, proudly defiant, but was still a little grateful when Narcissa tightened her grip on Lucius’s arm. “I’m in love with her, father.” He told Lucius, “I’m not going back to France unless she comes too.”
“Do you think that what you want even matters now?” Henri said coldly. He swished his wand in the air, producing a brittle looking parchment impressed with the Fougere and Malfoy seals. “I believe you’ll see, Mr. Malfoy, in Paragraph 10, clause 8 that the only way to avoid the consequences of breach are to actually be married by midnight…which gives you nearly three more minutes to acquire a wife.”
Draco’s face flashed with panic, and he looked almost frantically toward his father. “Is that true?”
“It is.” Lucius admitted, “This isn’t exactly a situation that my attorneys foresaw.”
Draco’s face reflected desolation but he steadfastly held his ground. “It doesn’t matter!” He insisted, “It doesn’t matter what the contract says. I won’t do it. I refuse!”
“When the contract becomes effective, you’ll be magically compelled fulfill its terms.” Henri retorted hotly. “It’s not a question of what you are and aren’t willing to do.”
Draco made a sound of despair, reaching backwards for Ginny’s hand. He turned to his mother. “There’s nothing we can do?”
“There may be a way.” Narcissa said in a strained tone of voice. Ginny and Draco looked at her hopefully, both holding their breath. Narcissa shot Lucius a worried look, but continued. “Your father and I could disown you…but it would have to be a real disowning- magical and binding…and irreversible.”
Draco blanched, unable to look at Ginny’s face, as he waited for realization to set in, “I wouldn’t be able to offer you anything Gin.” He said quietly, “No house, no money, no prospects…” His voice wavered as his worst fear came true. In the moment of truth, what he had to give to Ginny wouldn’t be enough.
Even though Draco didn’t turn his head, he was achingly aware of the room around him: the glittering chandeliers, the gilded ceiling, the polished marble beneath his feet. Only trappings… he reminded himself, even as he admitted that it would be hard to walk away. They wouldn’t mean anything without Gin.
For her part, Ginny was also cognizant of her surroundings- though she was more acutely conscious of the curious stared witches and wizards ranged around them, than of the luxury of the house and room. Was Narcissa telling the truth? Was there really a way for them to be together? She tried to read Draco’s body language, wondering if she could trust the sincerity it seemed to hold. ”I wouldn’t be able to offer you anything…”
Didn’t he know that he was wrong? Ginny had always been poor. She would find a way to manage. Draco was offering her the only thing that mattered at all!
“Remember the time…” Narcissa’s urgent voice snapped Ginny out of her dream. “You have to decide now.”
Lucius nodded, “After midnight, the contract will be impossible to break.”
It was now or never.
Ginny took her lover’s hand, closing it tightly in hers. “I choose you, Draco.” She said quietly. “You alone with nothing else at all.”
If she had ever doubted that he loved her, those worries were erased as she watched what looked like dawn breaking across his face. “And I want you, Gin.” Draco murmured drawing her close. He smoothed his hands up along her back, crushing her against his body, all the onlookers now buzzing around them be damned. “Nice dress.” He murmured against her ear.
“Its pretty,” She agreed dreamily, “Mum made it.”
“I like the way it feels.”
It felt like a lifetime ago when he had first spoken those words. Ginny finally understood that they had meant “I love you” all along.
“Draco…” She sighed, tipping her chin upwards. Their lips were a hairsbreadth apart, the long-restrained passion between them was almost crackling in the air. Another tilt, another millimeter and they would touch, sealing their decision with a kiss…
And then they froze. Ginny stiffened as the low, hollow gong of the grandfather clock echoed through the silent hall.
“It’s too late!” Odile’s jubilant voice rose above the crowd as she elbowed through the onlookers, dragging her unfortunate daughter in her wake. The clock was still chiming: two…three…four…five… “It’s all over!” The French mama announced with maniacal glee. “You waited too long to make your choice. It’s midnight and the contract can’t be broken.” She thrust her daughter forward, even as the last chime was fading, “Happy Birthday Draco,” She sneered, “You must have a dance with your soon-to-be wife.”
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