Chapter 23
Mrs. Draco Malfoy
Draco’s fingers curled around Ginny’s waist, stubbornly refusing to let her go, even though he could almost feel her slipping away. He didn’t want to believe it: He had acted too late. Now, even if his mother and father disowned him, like a genie shackled in magical servitude, he would still be forced to comply with the contract’s terms.
“Don’t let it be a love spell!” He thought, as he waited for the effects of the contract curse to rip him away. A magical attraction would make it easier to bear living with Miss Fougere (and it was, frankly, the sort of thing that his mother would probably insist upon) but he didn’t want it to be easy. He didn’t want to forget. Even if the memory of this too-short moment of understanding cut like broken glass he didn’t want to give it away.
“I love you, Ginny.” He whispered desperately into her hair, achingly conscious that a few more seconds was all they had. “I’ll always love you, no matter what. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you soon enough.”
“Draco.” She whispered back, unable to force her mouth into other sounds. She could hear the murmur of the crowd rising again, excited whispers swirling around them like a fog. The moment was almost over. Any second, Draco would feel Genevieve’s hand on his shoulder, Ginny would smell her overpowering perfume, they would hear-
A squawk?
Draco blinked, looked at Ginny, and then turned his eyes toward the sound.
An enormous yellow canary- bursting out of a pale blue dress- was rolling on the floor, scattering feathers as it kicked its legs.
“The twins.” Ginny realized immediately. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Never before had one of their pranks been so perfectly timed.
“We didn’t mean it!” Fred- or was it George?-‘s voice was already carrying over the crowd as he rushed forward, giving his brother a vicious shrug. “You were supposed to put it in Genevieve’s drink!” He growled, coming to a stop beside the unfortunate bird.
The Frenchwoman was, lamentably, unscathed, taking in the spectacle from the fringe of the crowd, even as the Weasley boys gestured in her direction.
“I DID put it in her drink!” The other twin protested, “ Her mum had carried a whole bottle of port out into the hall. I emptied the old stuff out myself the second that she set it down. Refilled her mum’s flask too. She must have switched glasses!”
“Switched glasses?” echoed the first. “Why would she ever do that?”
Instinctively, Ginny’s eyes shifted toward the girl in question, frowning when something didn’t seem quite right. Genevieve’s eyes were bulging at the thought that she might have been the one chirping and flapping in the floor…or maybe she was just bulging.
Ginny frowned. The debutante’s dress, which had fit her elegant figure easily upon her arrival, was now straining at the seams. Her complexion had turned sallow and her hair was slowly shading…blonde?
It took a while for Ginny to place what was happening. Before she could do it, Narcissa shouted.
“That’s not Genevieve Fougere!”
The unfortunate canary was forgotten as the onlookers’ attention shifted to the latest spectacle of the night. Miss Fougere had, indeed, undergone a dramatic transformation as Ginny watched. She no longer looked the part of a lovely, if vicious, debutante. Instead, she now looked decidedly dumpy…and also rather afraid.
“Don’t hex me!” She shrieked, throwing her arms up over her head. This proved to be a wise decision, as Odile’s fan thwacked against her wrists. “Eegnorant child!” she hissed viciously, swiping with the fan again. “You could have been a preencess! You’ve ruined everytheeng! You were supposed to drink zee potion every hour!”
“But meestress I swear zat I deed! I only sat eet down for a moment. Someone else must have….”
“Silence!” Odile roared, slapping the fan cruelly against the young girl’s face, “You eediot!”
Ginny and Draco both blinked at the outrageous scene. Had Odile Fougere just admitted to using a Polyjuice potion on that unfortunate girl? It was Lucius Malfoy who spoke what was on everyone else’s mind.
“What in the third ring of Hades is going on?” He thundered, then turned a sneering gaze on the cowering and fan-whipped “Genevieve”, “And who is this unfortunate girl?”
“Why, it’s my old maid!” A rather stunned Mrs. Bulstrode extracted herself from the masses. “It’s Camille! She tended my clothes and hair last summer when I was in France.”
“A maid?” Lucius roared. “You were trying to wed my son to a servant???”
Henri hefted his chin. “Don’t think for a moment that I don’t know that you would do the same.”
Narcissa’s features looked stunned, “By why?” She asked, “Whatever happened to the real Genevieve Fougere?”
“I think that I can tell you that.” Mrs. Bulstrode was speaking again. “It didn’t occur to me until just now. I mean, I never realized that these were the same Fougere’s that I’d heard people talking about during my holiday in France.”
Lucius waited impatiently for her to continue.
“When I was in Paris, it was all the gossips could talk about- some high society Pureblood girl who’d run away with a Muggle…what do they call them? Those men that steer those rolling box-things?”
“A lorry driver.” A bystander provided.
“A Muggle lorry driver?” Lucius echoed in disbelief.
Henri and Odile finally dipped their heads in shame.
“So the Fougere’s broke the contract!” Draco blurted, his voice jagged with the energy of renewed hope. He beamed for a moment, but then his expression fell, “But if they broke the contract, why haven’t they been cursed?” He didn’t believe for a second that his father was the sort of man to leave a contract entirely in the hands of honor.
“They didn’t break it.” Narcissa surmised with a smile, “Genevieve had the same opt-out as you. I’d guess Genevieve married the boy.”
Mrs. Bulstrode nodded, “From all reports, she’s expecting his baby in the fall.”
“Then there isn’t any contract!” Draco wound his arms around Ginny again. “There isn’t any curse! It isn’t too late after all!”
Lucius had barely registered his son’s erupting glee. “But I needed that contract!” he growled, “Without it, the entire distribution scheme is going to fail!”
“Hasn’t it ever occurred to you,” Narcissa said tersely, “That you could simply agree to a joint venture without any curses?”
Both Lucius and Henri looked stunned…but vaguely intrigued. Narcissa shooed them both toward the door.
Wrapped in Ginny Weasley’s arms, Draco couldn’t care less about Malfoy business affairs. He had spent the last year and a half not kissing Ginny Weasley, and now he was making up for lost time. He felt her pull away and frowned. “What is it?”
“I don’t believe it.” Ginny looked around, “Aren’t fairytales supposed to end at midnight?”
Draco smiled, “Sometimes.”
“But this time its really true…” Ginny laid her head against his chest. “You don’t have to get married?”
“Not to Genevieve.” Draco lifted his hand to her chin, tipping it upwards until he was staring into her eyes, “It’s you I want, Gin.” He said softly, not caring that everyone would hear.
He reached into his pocket, plucking out the signet ring that he had reclaimed from his father. “I always wondered how this would look on your finger.” He said, kissing the back of her hand and then lifting it toward the ring. He was about to slide it into place when yet another interruption occurred.
“Now wait just a minute!”
Draco froze as the booming voice of Madame Mynuet broke in. “I…er….excuse me?” He murmured, looking to Ginny for a clue of how to proceed.
The matron stalked toward Draco, moving quickly for a woman of her years, then slapped down his hand with her cane. “Engaged women are not eligible for the Debutante crown!” she snapped.
Ginny’s eyes widened even as, behind her, Mrs. Greengrass was emitting nervous squeaks, “But…er….Miss Weasley was only third pla-”
Mynuet wheeled on her fellow committee member, eyes blazing. “Miss Fougere is no longer eligible, it would seem.” She pointed out reasonably.
“But Miss Tha-“
All it took was a narrowing of Madame’s eyes to quell any further complaint. “I’ve amended my scoring.” She announce with authority.
“But her total points are still less tha-”
“I amended yours too!” Mynuet barked back, her eyes daring Mrs. Greengrass to resist. She turned to Mrs. Malfoy, “Yours too, Narcissa. I hope that you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” The blonde replied, her lips stretching into a grin.
“Well then, if we’re in agreement…” She twisted her wand out of the cane and made an two slashes in the air with her wand. There was a puff of pink smoke, and then the Debutante crown appeared, hovering just above her head. “Miss Weasley.” She said, calling the girl forward.
Draco was surprised when she didn’t go. She stood stock still, alternating her gaze between her lover and the shimmering tiara. “What are you waiting for?” He whispered, nudging her to go.
Ginny held her ground. “No.” She said finally. “I don’t want it.”
“After all your work?”
She twined her fingers in his pulling them against her chest, “I wasn’t working for the crown, Draco.”
“Still- if you’ve earned it...”
“I thought I wasn’t cut out for that sort of thing.” She said pointedly.
Draco shook his head. “Okay, so I was wrong…but we’ve already proven that tonight.” He took her shoulder, steering it gently toward Madame Mynuet. “Take it, Gin.”
“You’re sure?”
He grinned in answer, “I’m sure. After all- it’s a Malfoy wife tradition.”
Wife. Ginny felt her heart swell at the words. Now, more than ever, she didn’t want to let him go, but somehow her feet carried her forward toward Madame Mynuet. The older woman swished her wand again, and they were suddenly standing on a raised dais in the center of the hall. Madame directed Ginny where to stand, and then began to speak.
“The Daughters of Hecate Debutante Ball was established to train our young women in the arts of charm and deportment, and to nurture their inherent intelligence and self-possession. In this programme, the past and future are joined. The young women of our circle are trained in wizarding traditions which we hope that they will continue throughout their lives, and pass on to the generations to come.” She returned her gaze for Ginny, and the girl warmed to feel a gaze of approval, just as strong as any censure that the woman had ever levied, “Each year we choose the finest example of wizarding girl to wear this crown. To earn it, that young lady must demonstrate achievement in the practical domestic arts, but possess many inherent qualities as well. She must demonstrate poise, passion, and grace. You have exhibited excellence in all three.” She plucked the glittering crown from the air and held it over her head, “I present to you, Witches and Wizards, this year’s Debutante Queen…Miss Ginevra Weasley.”
Tears glittered in Ginny’s eyes as she felt the weight of the tiara settle onto her head. The orchestra began playing and, as soon as the dais had vanished away, and her feet had drifted back to the floor, she felt Draco sweep her into his arms and lead her into a dance.
“I think I promised this dance to Oliver.” Ginny teased, not really worried about her date’s reaction, but wondering for the first time where he was.
“Wood?” Draco asked, blinking. “I thought I…er…saw him in the hall.”
“Doing what?”
Malfoy grinned, “I think who is the question you are looking for.” He laughed, pulling her closer, “And the Answer is Anne Greenbugg…I think there might be something there.”
As if on cue, the Puddlemere United keeper emerged from a curtained alcove, lipstick on his collar and a rosy and rumpled looking Miss Greenbugg in tow. “What’d we miss?” He asked.
Anne scanned the ballroom floor, spying Ginny and Draco immediately. They were both lost in a world of their own, their faces rapturous with the joy of being together at last. Though she barely knew the couple, she could tell from a glance that this was love for keeps.
“It looks like the happy ending.” She whispered.
She was right.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The pleasure of your company is requested by
Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy
~~
and
~~
Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley
On Saturday, October 15th at 2:30 PM,
Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire
When they invite you to witness the marriage of their children:
Draco Accolon Black Malfoy
~~
and
~~
Ginevra Molly Weasley
Reception to follow
R.S.V.P.
THE END
To Be Continued.
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