Chapter 2 - Part Two

Chapter Six: The Fire: Ignited

It had been several weeks since Fred''s departure. He had sent Angelina an owl to tell her he was doing well, but he didn’t want her to reply, incase the owl could be tracked back to him and the rest of his family.

Knock, knock, knock

Angelina stood outside a loft apartment door, thinking maybe this had been a bad idea. She put her hand on her stomach. That feeling was back; that feeling that told her, this was wrong. She then moved her hand over her chest and took a deep breath hoping it would slow her increasing heartbeat down. She was more anxious than she would have liked. “What am I doing here?” she thought out loud, thinking if she left now. . . but, too late, the door swung open.

“Didn’t think you would come.” Montague smiled as he opened the door fully to allow Angelina in.

“Look.” It was time for Angelina to put on that tough façade, “I just need to know what you have on my husband, then I’m gone.” She thought that maybe the information Montague had on Draco could somehow help her bring Fred back safely to England.

“Uh-huh.” He closed the door and locked it. “Sure.”

“I’m willing to pay.”

“With your husband’s money?” Montague laughed as he walked passed her and took a seat on his couch. “I don’t need money,” he told her. “Now, why don’t you come and sit down, Johnson?”

“No, thank you.” She shook her head as she crossed her arms and looked nervously around the spacious loft. It was painted in a shade of blue, a color she didn’t think suited him well at all. “I don’t plan on staying long.”

“Are you afraid of me, Johnson?”

“What?” Her eyes quickly lay upon him. “No.”

Montague sighed heavily. “Alright then, if not, then how long are we going to do this?” He looked dangerously at her. “Because frankly, it tires me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looked over at the door.

“That’s what I mean.” He stood up and pointed at her. “Right there. How long are you going to run in the opposite direction? How long are you going to deny this thing between us?”

Angelina’s eyes widened for a moment before returning to their original size. “Thing? No. There has never been a thing.”

“Really?” He quickly walked over to her and forced her up against the hard wall. He then placed his hands on either side of her, trapping her where she stood. “Then look me in the eye and tell me you''ve never wanted me.” His face was inches from hers.

In a slight panic, Angelina stated. “I’m a married woman, Montague.”

“Yes, a married woman who’s trying to get information to use on her husband.” He then said sarcastically, “Oh yeah, that’s real love.”

“Get off me, now,” she said softly, putting her hands on his chest and trying to push him away.

But he would not be budged. “Not till you say it. Say you don’t want me. I dare you.”

"Monta-"

"Say it!" he demanded.

“I don’t want you!” Angelina hissed through clenched teeth. Montague studied her for a moment before slowly starting to back away. “shoot!” Angelina yelled softly, knowing she would regret what she was about to do. She grabbed a hold of Montague’s sweater and pulled him into a long, overdue, kiss.

When they broke it, Montague had a small grin on his face. “You know, you almost had me convinced there for a second.”

“I know.” She found herself smiling too, liberated by the moment, before Montague took her lips with his own. It was a kiss filled with a raw passion that had been building up within him since their first insults towards each other.

Montague, resting his hands on her hips, pulling away from her, took a breath as if breathing for the first time. “So, how you want to play this?”

Angelina rubbed Montague’s arms up and down. Do I really want to do this? She thought of many reasons of why she shouldn’t, but the moment she looked into Montague’s dark eyes, all reason went out the window. Angelina then gave Montague a seductive smile and that was all of a reply he needed.

Montague slowly lowered himself closer to the floor and rose back up taking one Angelina’s legs with him. “A little help maybe?” he asked her. Angelina wrapped her arms around Montague’s neck; she then jumped up enough for him to catch her other leg and for her to cross her ankles behind him.

He then carried her up to his bedroom, planting little wet kisses on her as he did. They entered the bedroom and he kicked the door close behind them. He then unceremoniously dropped her onto his neatly made bed.

Angelina sat up and pulled Montague, by his belt, closer to her and began to unfasten it. As she did, Montague kicked off his shoes and pulled his sweater vest over his head. “Easy down there, Johnson,” he told her when she gave a hard tug at his belt.

“Shut up and take it like a man, David,” she said, while still on the bed, getting to her knees. She then started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

He stopped her by putting a hand on top of hers. “Not a lot of people know my first name. How’d you figure it out?” She only shrugged before he let her continue. When she was done he pushed her, a little annoyed she didn’t answer his question, and she fell back onto the bed. Montague finished taking off his shirt, and Angelina glimpsed at the Dark Mark on his left forearm as he joined her on the bed. “What is it, Johnson?” he asked her when a look of worry flashed in her eyes.

“This is wrong,” she told him, as she looked at him on top of her.

"You''ve got to be kidding me," he whispered to himself. “You’ve changed your mind.” He dropped his head in disbelief as he started to get off her.

“Something like that.” Catching him off guard she shoved him onto his back and straddled him. “That’s more like it.”

Montague’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “Do you always have to be in control?”

“No, but it’s preferred,” she said, as she trailed his chest with her fingers. He flinched when she came to a healed puncher wound under his right breast. “How you get this?”

His eyes traveled from her hand up to her eyes. “You. Second year. Remember?” he explained, as he reached up and pulled out the hair tie that held Angelina’s hair in a pony-tail. “It was the first game of the year. You knocked me off my broom in the first half-hour of the game. I hit one of the support beams on the way down and my broom splintered and part of it went into my chest. I was fine after seeing Madam Pomfrey. Though she did tell me, any further to the left and it would have pierced my heart.” His hand came up and stroked her face. "Ironic really."

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, breaking eye contact for a moment. “But you got me back pretty well, even if I do say so myself.” She smiled as she took off her shirt and got off him to show him the scar of her back. She pulled her hair, done in microbraids, to one side so he could get a better look at it. Montague sat up and traced the scar with his finger from the left side of her neck, down her back, to the right side of her hip. “To this day, I still don’t know what I hit, because all I remember is you coming up from behind me, yanking me off of my broom by my pony-tail, falling, and then everything going black.”

Montague kissed Angelina’s shoulder as he slid her bra strap off of it. “What can I say?” he began. “We have rough foreplay.” He heard Angelina giggle before she turned back around and pushed him back down onto the bed.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Montague woke up with Angelina laying in his arms, just like many other countless nights. It had been two years since they had started their affair and the world had slowly become a different place under the hand of Voldemort. There had been many uprisings and so-called revolutions to take down the Dark Lord and his army, but so far all had failed. Much blood had been spilled in the last two years, and much more, without a doubt, would be spilled in the future.

Montague idly played with the hair of his sleeping lover. Being with her was everything he thought it would be. It was erratic, tantalizing, and full of a fire only she could ignite within him. He loved her; he realized that not to long ago, though he had never voiced it out loud. He didn’t want to scare her away like he did before, when they were back in school.

It was their sixth year and he had bumped into her on his way back to his common room. They threw a few insults before he subtly came onto her, thinking maybe he had been a little too subtle because she didn’t seem to react to it. But he knew he must of had some kind of effect, because within a few days time, she had starting dating that Weasley boy, and had started avoiding him in the corridors, sometimes going all away around, so she wouldn’t have to face him.

“David?” Angelina whispered into the night air. “What’s wrong?” she asked when she realized he was watching her sleep.

“Nothing,” he lied, as he pulled away from her and sat up. He had concluded that something in his life had to change. When he first got caught up in this war, he sided with Voldemort because he thought it was the most logical choice. But he was so young and so foolish then, he didn’t realize how killing innocence people, who were only trying to win back their freedom, would affect him so much. He figured that somehow being with Angelina for so long had given him something he didn’t need nor want living in this kind of world, a conscience. “Do you love me, Angelina?” he asked in a hushed voice, readying himself for her response.

If Angelina wasn’t awake before, she was now. She and Montague had never discussed their feelings with each other. As far as Angelina knew, their relationship was based on nothing but sex, a strange desire that only the other could fulfill. “I don’t know,” she said honestly.

He turned to her. “I think you do. I think you love me,” he told her. “Angelina, I need to get away for here. . . and I want you to come with me.”

“David,” she said tenderly as she sat up. “No. I won’t leave England. I won’t leave Draco.” She would not have his death on her hands.

“Why?” he asked, not knowing that their marriage had been arranged. “You don’t love him.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated? Okay then, let’s make things simple. Give me a little time, I can set something up. It’ll look like a complete accident. You can play the grieving widow and tell people you can no longer be in a place filled with so many memories.”

“No!” She was mortified at the thought. She got out of bed and had the lights turned on. “I could never allow you to do anything like that to Draco.” She searched for her clothes and started to get dressed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going home, until you get those ridiculous ideas out of your head. You can’t take down a Malfoy, not when they have fully gotten back into the Dark Lord’s good graces. For crying out loud, he’s practically made Draco some kind of General.” She took a deep breath. “I like being with you, David, but even if I hated Draco with a passion, I could not have him killed off. Don’t you know they would figure out what happened and they would hunt us down like they do of those who have gone against him?” She went back to finding her clothes.

Montague watched as she dressed in a frightful hurry. “What’s Malfoy got on you?” Angelina only looked at him as she put her hair back into a pony-tail. “Answer me, Johnson.”

“Goodnight, Montague,” she said, before he watched her walk out the bedroom door.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The morning was peeking through the windows as Angelina arrived home. With the wards down she was simply able to Apparate into her and Draco’s bedroom. “You’re home early,” Draco commented as Angelina climbed into bed.

“Not in the mood, Draco.”

“Aw, what’s wrong? You and lover boy have a fight?” His voice sounded absolutely amused at the thought. He didn’t know whom she was sleeping with and he didn’t care, just as long as no one else knew he existed. Besides Draco was having his own affairs and he saw no need for him and Angelina to share whom they were spending their time with when they weren’t with each other.

“Sod off and let me sleep,” Angelina told him, as she pulled the blanket over her head.

“Fine,” he began. “I have things to do today anyway.” He got out of bed and got ready for the day.

Angelina stayed tucked away under her blanket until an eerie silence fell into the room. Draco usually made more noise then this in the morning. She pushed down her blanket and saw Draco leaning on the vanity dresser staring at himself. “Thought I was the only one who did that when I was upset?”

He forced a smile. “I’m not upset. I’m just thinking.”

“Can I ask about what?” she queried.

“You don’t have to pretend to be the concerned wife today, Tulip,” he told her, as he turned around and leaned on the dresser.

Angelina sat up. “I’m not pretending. You’ve been acting kind of strange lately.”

“I know.” He nodded his head. “It’s business, and I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about it.” He paused. They had been together for almost three years; she had been a good companion, annoying at times, but still a good companion. She had never given him a reason not to trust her. This was an odd feeling for Draco, because he had never fully trusted anymore in his life. “I’ve been given orders to go after a found traitor today,” he began. “And it’s someone I know, someone I thought had my- the Dark Lord’s best interest in mind.”

“He was a friend, wasn’t he?” she asked.

He nodded his head solemnly. “I didn’t even realize I considered him one before.” He pushed himself off the dresser so he could finish getting dressed. “Dammit! Where are my shoes!” he yelled, but Angelina knew his outburst had nothing to do with his shoes.

 
Chapter Seven: Tainted

It was noon as Angelina sat in the kitchen eating lunch with Grayson. He was talking about his boyhood as Angelina picked at her salad, half-listening to him. Her mind was preoccupied with the proposal Montague had given her. Kill Draco? No, she would not let that happen.

Yes, they got on each other’s nerves from time to time, but that really wasn’t a good reason to want someone dead. Besides Draco, even being who he was, was a good husband. He respected Angelina and her opinions; their marriage would have been ideal, if they weren’t cheating on one another and had actually loved each other, that is.

“Madam?” said a tiny voice.

Angelina turned away from her salad and Grayson. “What is it, Darcy?” she spoke to one of the house elves.

“Darcy wanted the Madam to know that she has a visitor,” Darcy spoke timidly.

“Thank you.” Angelina smiled at Darcy which made her smile too. “Excuse me, Grayson,” she excused herself as she stood up and walked to the front end of the house.

“Hello, Montague,” she greeted him in the living room.

“You left in quite a hurry this morning,” he said while sitting on the couch.

“Well, excuse me for not thinking your idea to kill my husband was brilliant,” she said, before walking over to the patio door and stepping out.

Montague followed her. There was a brisk of wind sweeping by as, from behind, Montague wrapped his arms around her. “It’s just, I don’t understand how you two work. There’s no love there, yet you fight and defend as if he were your entire world.”

Angelina turned around as she brought her arms up and rested them on his shoulders. She then started to play with one of his ears. “It’s because I know he would do the same for me. It’s just an understanding we have,” she explained.

“Fine.” He nodded. “But you do know, I would like to be that someday right, Angelina?”

“Be what?” She didn’t understand.

He reached for her hands and brought them down to his lips as he looked into Angelina’s eyes. “Your world.” He then kissed her hand. “What do you say we get out of here?”

“Well actually-” There was no time to protest before Montague pulled her close and they Apparated out of the estate. They were now standing outside of Montague’s loft door. Angelina sighed. “I had a lunch guest, Montague.”

“They’re not a guest if they work for you, Johnson,” he said as he opened the door and they walked in. “Now take off your clothes and meet me in the bedroom.” He started walking up the stairs stripping as he went.

Angelina closed the door behind them as she shook her head. “Yeah, that’s real romantic,” she said sarcastically. “Just sweep me off my feet, why don’t you,” she stated as she followed him up.

He turned around at the top of the stairs smiling. “The name’s David, sweetheart; not Romeo.”

When she reached him at the top, she shoved him into the bedroom. “Bastard.”

“dog,” he countered as they closed the bedroom door behind them.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was several hours later and Angelina was resting her head on Montague’s chest as he played with her hair. “You know you never answered me before,” Montague stated out the blue.

“Answered you about what?”Angelina opened her eyes, the soft rhythm of Montague’s heart was making her sleepy.

“About if you loved me.”

Angelina lifted her head so she could see Montague’s face and she smiled. “I thought you said you already knew?”

“I just want to hear you say it.” He felt Angelina pull away from him.

“Are you getting soft on me, David?” she teased.

“No,” he replied a little offended as he pulled her back down to him and held her close. “I’ve just. . .” he realized he was putting his heart on the line. “I just want more.”

Angelina was quiet for a moment, before saying softly, “I can’t give you what I don''t have. What we have now, is all I have to give.”

“But do you love me?” His tone was almost desperate.

She kissed his chest. “Yes, David, I love you.” It wasn’t the same kind of love she felt for Fred, but it was still love. Besides, Fred had been away for so long, and Montague was right here, loving her right now.

“You love me, even after everything I''ve done?”

His sudden outpour of emotion was slightly making Angelina feel uneasy. “What are you getting at David?”

“I think we need to talk.” She sat back up and she could see the concern on his face.

“This is serious, isn’t it?” She completely sat up and Montague rose to meet her.

“Yeah.” He took her hands and started to talk in a slow, low voice. “I have done many, many things. Horrible, unforgivable things, since I joined with the Dark Lord. Things I know I will never be forgiven for, but honestly none of those things matter. Only you matter, Angelina, and I need you to forgive me.”

“Forgive you for what?”

“For what I’m about to tell you.” He didn’t look her in the eye. “Know that many may have wanted glory and power, but all I ever wanted was you. Even when I hated you, I knew I only hated you because I thought I could never have you. Yet, even then I knew I would do anything to make you mine.” Montague figured it was all or nothing at this point. He knew by telling her what he was about to say, would affect their relationship drastically, but he could no longer love her, living behind his omission.

“David, what have you done?” She slipped her hands away from his and put them on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. “Please, tell me.”

“Forgive me, because it was I-” he was interrupted by an urgent pounding on his front door.

He tried to turn his head towards the sound, but Angelina wouldn’t let him. “Leave it be and tell me.” At this point she needed to know, she had to know.

Yet, more pounding could be heard on the door. “I can’t with all that noise. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.” He slipped away from Angelina’s touch. He put on some pants and opened the bedroom door. He had started down the steps when his front door was forcibly opened. A small group of Death Eaters barged into his loft. “What is the meaning of this!” Montague yelled angrily.

“David Lestat Montague,” came a voice Montague knew all too well. “By the high decree of our Dark Lord, you have been found guilty of treason on several accounts, and it is hereby been. . . ” There came a heavy sigh from the Death Eater speaking.

“There’s no reason to hide behind that mask.” Two other Death Eaters approached Montague and seized him. “I know who you are Malfoy, so face me. Give me that much.”

Hearing all the noise, Angelina wrapped a sheet around herself and peered out the slightly adjacent bedroom door. She watched as Draco complied with Montague’s request. Montague looked into Draco’s eyes, which were void of any emotion. “What the hell were you thinking, Montague?”

“Nothing none of you haven’t thought before,” Montague replied.

Draco leaned into Montague so he could whisper in his ear. “Don’t worry. Your death will be short and painless.” He then backed away. Montague was astonished, Draco had actually shown him mercy.

Draco slowly shook his head as he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards Montague. “Draco, no!” Draco, out of sheer surprise, dropped his wand to the floor as his head turned and spotted his wife, covered only in a sheet, outside of Montague’s bedroom door.

For some reason, unbeknown to Draco, his breath got stuck in his throat and his chest felt constricted. Something Draco had never felt before surged through his body. “Tulip?” he finally let out a whisper. His head swiftly turned back to Montague. Draco knew Angelina was sleeping with someone; he’d practically given her permission to do it, but Montague? Montague should have known better than to mess with anything that belonged to a Malfoy. This was something Draco could not forgive. “To think,” his voice was lined with venom, “I almost felt pity for you.” He spat in Montague’s face. After picking up his wand, he turned his sights towards Angelina and gradually walked up the stairs.

“I want him tortured,” Draco instructed the others not taking his eyes off Angelina. “I want it slow and I want it painful. If he makes even the slightest peep add another hour before you kill him.” He reached the top of the stairs and gestured with his head for Angelina to enter the bedroom.

She ignored him and looked back down at Montague, where she saw him mouth the words, ‘I love you.’

“Get in there,” Draco whispered harshly as he pushed her into the room. He then turned back to the others. “Let it be known, that betraying the Dark Lord is nothing, when you betray me.”

As Draco turned to enter the bedroom he didn’t hear one of his fellow Death Eaters whisper to another. “A shame really, I used to envy him. Wealth, power, connections to kill for,” he then chuckled a bit, “yet nothing to keep the wife satisfied at home.”

Draco closed the door behind him. “Draco, you got to call them off!” Angelina yelled frantically.

Draco walked up to her and back handed her across face. “If you ever humiliate me like that again.” Angelina stepped away from him, holding her face, not believing that he had actually hit her. “Dammit! We had a deal!” He looked towards the door. He didn’t want anyone to hear their conversation. “Get dressed,” he said in an angered whisper. “We’re going home.”

When she finished dressing, she pleaded with Draco again, “Draco it’s been long enough, please call them off. Please.”

He said nothing as he grabbed her around the wrist and Apparated into the living room of their home. He viciously pushed her onto the couch and pointed a finger at her. “All you had to do was stay in the damn bedroom!” He then began to ran his fingers repeatedly through his hair. “Do you know what you’ve done?” He walked away from her. “Do you have any fracking idea what you have done!”

“Draco, what about David?” She held back her tears as she imagined all the things they could be doing to him.

Draco’s angered expression went flat, which was the scariest expression he could give anyone, because one never knew what hid behind those icy, silver orbs of his. He turned his head slowly towards Angelina. “Get out of my sight. Now,” his lips barely moved as he said those words in a whisper, so soft, Angelina wasn’t sure if they were actually spoken.

Angelina was tired of begging, she stood up and marched over to him. “Dammit Draco, listen to me! I want-”

Draco had warned her to get out; he knew he was in danger of losing his control. And as he was blinded by his anger, he struck Angelina across the face for the second time that day. Angelina was going to retaliate, but he was too quick for her as he grabbed her by the arm and swung her onto the ground. She hit her head on the coffee table before landing on the floor. Her hand went to her forehead, which now had a large bleeding gash across it.

“Draco, stop!” she yelled in protest, but her cry went unanswered as Draco stood over her, ready to kick her. But Angelina would not give him that opportunity; she grabbed his ankle and pulled his leg from underneath him. He landed hard on his back as Angelina tried to get up and step over him, but this time it was Draco who grabbed Angelina’s ankle and forced her back onto the floor.

She fell on top of him and took this as her chance to strike back. She balled her hand up into a fist and struck his face, but before she could get in another hit, Draco, being stronger than her, quickly managed to grab her hand mid-swing and roll over placing him on top of her. As he straddled her, he put both of his hands around her neck and started to squeeze.

Angelina made little sounds as her windpipe was being crushed and although it didn’t look good for her, she continued to fight. She started hitting his arms trying to break them from their lock, long enough for her to escape, but it was no use. She soon started to claw and grab at Draco’s chest because she couldn’t reach his face as he held his chin high. Her attempts to free herself from her husband’s grip grew feeble as she started to see spots in front of her eyes. Finally, having no more strength left, her eyes soon closed and her arms dropped to the floor.

As her arms fell, the gleam from Angelina’s watch caught Draco’s eye and he looked up to see what it was. As he looked up he caught his reflection in the sliding glass patio door, but it was not his face that he saw, but the face of his father. He looked back down and didn’t see the face of Angelina, but the face of his mother.

He then heard a soft whimper and turned his head to locate where the sound was coming from. In the doorway, that lead to the front of the house stood Darcy, the little house elf, her hands were over her mouth, trying not to be heard as she cried. But again, Draco did not see what was actually there. What he saw was himself as a small child as he witnessed his father beat him mother, for something his father did not approve of her doing.

It was then, as that little boy, Draco had promised himself he would never lose control like that, he would never take his anger out on his wife, he would never be the man he saw in front of him, he would never be his father.

Draco looked back down and this time saw Angelina. His hands were still tightly around her neck. Draco’s eyes went wide with shock, as if now just realizing what he was doing. He removed his hands from around her neck and got off her. She had passed out due to the lack of oxygen, but Draco could tell she was still alive by the soft rise and fall of her chest. He gathered her up in his arms and pulled her close to him. Her head fell back and her arms were limp at her sides. Draco buried his face in her neck and began to rock back and forth. “I’m not my father. I’m not my father.” He repeated several times before picking Angelina up and carrying her to their bedroom, crying tears he would never allow her to see.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Angelina snapped straight up, gasping for air as her hand went to her throat. She was alone in the bedroom and began shaking and panting as she realized what had happened to her. She touched her forehead and felt that her wound had been addressed. She immediately got out of bed and reached under it and pulled out a suitcase. She put the suitcase on the bed and went to the dresser to pull out her clothes. I should have left when I had the chance, she thought. I should have listened to David, she paused. David. She knew he had not been as lucky as her, for she had survived the night. Tears stung in her eyes, with the thought, and she continued to pack.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Came Draco’s voice out of nowhere.

Angelina gasped and then looked up from her packing and wiped away her tears. She did not want him to know that he had gotten the better of her. “I’m leaving you,” she stated defiantly.

“Like hell you are.”

“Watch me.” She closed the suitcase and zipped it up. She took it off the bed and started to wheel it towards the door.

Draco slammed the door and blocked it. “You’re not leaving this house. Not till I say so!” He realized that he sounded angry and took a deep breath before speaking again. “Tulip, please. Listen to me. You don’t know what you’ve done. It’s safer here.”

“Safer!” she yelled. “You tried to kill me!”

His gaze fell towards the floor as he rubbed the bump on the back of his head. “Yeah, about that.” His eyes then raked up her body and stopped when he saw the impressions of his hands around her neck. His shoulders dropped slightly. “It won’t happen again.”

With his eyes still intently on her, Angelina felt uncomfortable and her hand went back up to her neck. Seeing this Draco finally made eye contact as she spoke. “I don’t believe you, Draco.” A single tear fell down her cheek.

Draco’s lips were pressed together in hard thought. His voice was even. “I don’t care what you believe, Tulip,” he explained. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve put the wards back up. I also have two men posted at all the doors leading outside. And if, by some chance, you do manage to slip by them, I have several more walking around the gates of the estate.” He turned around and opened the door. “This is Justice. Alan Justice. He’ll be here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” Justice nodded towards Angelina.

“You can’t keep me here like some prisoner,” she told him, but he wasn’t listening. “Draco.” He walked out the door and closed it. “Draco!” He heard some object slam up against the door as she started screaming.

Draco shook his head and sighed heavily. “Keep her safe,” he told Justice before leaving. Little did Angelina know, that the men posted around the estate weren’t only there to keep her in, but to keep a certain someone out.

 
Chapter Seven: Tainted

It was noon as Angelina sat in the kitchen eating lunch with Grayson. He was talking about his boyhood as Angelina picked at her salad, half-listening to him. Her mind was preoccupied with the proposal Montague had given her. Kill Draco? No, she would not let that happen.

Yes, they got on each other’s nerves from time to time, but that really wasn’t a good reason to want someone dead. Besides Draco, even being who he was, was a good husband. He respected Angelina and her opinions; their marriage would have been ideal, if they weren’t cheating on one another and had actually loved each other, that is.

“Madam?” said a tiny voice.

Angelina turned away from her salad and Grayson. “What is it, Darcy?” she spoke to one of the house elves.

“Darcy wanted the Madam to know that she has a visitor,” Darcy spoke timidly.

“Thank you.” Angelina smiled at Darcy which made her smile too. “Excuse me, Grayson,” she excused herself as she stood up and walked to the front end of the house.

“Hello, Montague,” she greeted him in the living room.

“You left in quite a hurry this morning,” he said while sitting on the couch.

“Well, excuse me for not thinking your idea to kill my husband was brilliant,” she said, before walking over to the patio door and stepping out.

Montague followed her. There was a brisk of wind sweeping by as, from behind, Montague wrapped his arms around her. “It’s just, I don’t understand how you two work. There’s no love there, yet you fight and defend as if he were your entire world.”

Angelina turned around as she brought her arms up and rested them on his shoulders. She then started to play with one of his ears. “It’s because I know he would do the same for me. It’s just an understanding we have,” she explained.

“Fine.” He nodded. “But you do know, I would like to be that someday right, Angelina?”

“Be what?” She didn’t understand.

He reached for her hands and brought them down to his lips as he looked into Angelina’s eyes. “Your world.” He then kissed her hand. “What do you say we get out of here?”

“Well actually-” There was no time to protest before Montague pulled her close and they Apparated out of the estate. They were now standing outside of Montague’s loft door. Angelina sighed. “I had a lunch guest, Montague.”

“They’re not a guest if they work for you, Johnson,” he said as he opened the door and they walked in. “Now take off your clothes and meet me in the bedroom.” He started walking up the stairs stripping as he went.

Angelina closed the door behind them as she shook her head. “Yeah, that’s real romantic,” she said sarcastically. “Just sweep me off my feet, why don’t you,” she stated as she followed him up.

He turned around at the top of the stairs smiling. “The name’s David, sweetheart; not Romeo.”

When she reached him at the top, she shoved him into the bedroom. “Bastard.”

“dog,” he countered as they closed the bedroom door behind them.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was several hours later and Angelina was resting her head on Montague’s chest as he played with her hair. “You know you never answered me before,” Montague stated out the blue.

“Answered you about what?”Angelina opened her eyes, the soft rhythm of Montague’s heart was making her sleepy.

“About if you loved me.”

Angelina lifted her head so she could see Montague’s face and she smiled. “I thought you said you already knew?”

“I just want to hear you say it.” He felt Angelina pull away from him.

“Are you getting soft on me, David?” she teased.

“No,” he replied a little offended as he pulled her back down to him and held her close. “I’ve just. . .” he realized he was putting his heart on the line. “I just want more.”

Angelina was quiet for a moment, before saying softly, “I can’t give you what I don''t have. What we have now, is all I have to give.”

“But do you love me?” His tone was almost desperate.

She kissed his chest. “Yes, David, I love you.” It wasn’t the same kind of love she felt for Fred, but it was still love. Besides, Fred had been away for so long, and Montague was right here, loving her right now.

“You love me, even after everything I''ve done?”

His sudden outpour of emotion was slightly making Angelina feel uneasy. “What are you getting at David?”

“I think we need to talk.” She sat back up and she could see the concern on his face.

“This is serious, isn’t it?” She completely sat up and Montague rose to meet her.

“Yeah.” He took her hands and started to talk in a slow, low voice. “I have done many, many things. Horrible, unforgivable things, since I joined with the Dark Lord. Things I know I will never be forgiven for, but honestly none of those things matter. Only you matter, Angelina, and I need you to forgive me.”

“Forgive you for what?”

“For what I’m about to tell you.” He didn’t look her in the eye. “Know that many may have wanted glory and power, but all I ever wanted was you. Even when I hated you, I knew I only hated you because I thought I could never have you. Yet, even then I knew I would do anything to make you mine.” Montague figured it was all or nothing at this point. He knew by telling her what he was about to say, would affect their relationship drastically, but he could no longer love her, living behind his omission.

“David, what have you done?” She slipped her hands away from his and put them on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. “Please, tell me.”

“Forgive me, because it was I-” he was interrupted by an urgent pounding on his front door.

He tried to turn his head towards the sound, but Angelina wouldn’t let him. “Leave it be and tell me.” At this point she needed to know, she had to know.

Yet, more pounding could be heard on the door. “I can’t with all that noise. I’ll get rid of whoever it is.” He slipped away from Angelina’s touch. He put on some pants and opened the bedroom door. He had started down the steps when his front door was forcibly opened. A small group of Death Eaters barged into his loft. “What is the meaning of this!” Montague yelled angrily.

“David Lestat Montague,” came a voice Montague knew all too well. “By the high decree of our Dark Lord, you have been found guilty of treason on several accounts, and it is hereby been. . . ” There came a heavy sigh from the Death Eater speaking.

“There’s no reason to hide behind that mask.” Two other Death Eaters approached Montague and seized him. “I know who you are Malfoy, so face me. Give me that much.”

Hearing all the noise, Angelina wrapped a sheet around herself and peered out the slightly adjacent bedroom door. She watched as Draco complied with Montague’s request. Montague looked into Draco’s eyes, which were void of any emotion. “What the hell were you thinking, Montague?”

“Nothing none of you haven’t thought before,” Montague replied.

Draco leaned into Montague so he could whisper in his ear. “Don’t worry. Your death will be short and painless.” He then backed away. Montague was astonished, Draco had actually shown him mercy.

Draco slowly shook his head as he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards Montague. “Draco, no!” Draco, out of sheer surprise, dropped his wand to the floor as his head turned and spotted his wife, covered only in a sheet, outside of Montague’s bedroom door.

For some reason, unbeknown to Draco, his breath got stuck in his throat and his chest felt constricted. Something Draco had never felt before surged through his body. “Tulip?” he finally let out a whisper. His head swiftly turned back to Montague. Draco knew Angelina was sleeping with someone; he’d practically given her permission to do it, but Montague? Montague should have known better than to mess with anything that belonged to a Malfoy. This was something Draco could not forgive. “To think,” his voice was lined with venom, “I almost felt pity for you.” He spat in Montague’s face. After picking up his wand, he turned his sights towards Angelina and gradually walked up the stairs.

“I want him tortured,” Draco instructed the others not taking his eyes off Angelina. “I want it slow and I want it painful. If he makes even the slightest peep add another hour before you kill him.” He reached the top of the stairs and gestured with his head for Angelina to enter the bedroom.

She ignored him and looked back down at Montague, where she saw him mouth the words, ‘I love you.’

“Get in there,” Draco whispered harshly as he pushed her into the room. He then turned back to the others. “Let it be known, that betraying the Dark Lord is nothing, when you betray me.”

As Draco turned to enter the bedroom he didn’t hear one of his fellow Death Eaters whisper to another. “A shame really, I used to envy him. Wealth, power, connections to kill for,” he then chuckled a bit, “yet nothing to keep the wife satisfied at home.”

Draco closed the door behind him. “Draco, you got to call them off!” Angelina yelled frantically.

Draco walked up to her and back handed her across face. “If you ever humiliate me like that again.” Angelina stepped away from him, holding her face, not believing that he had actually hit her. “Dammit! We had a deal!” He looked towards the door. He didn’t want anyone to hear their conversation. “Get dressed,” he said in an angered whisper. “We’re going home.”

When she finished dressing, she pleaded with Draco again, “Draco it’s been long enough, please call them off. Please.”

He said nothing as he grabbed her around the wrist and Apparated into the living room of their home. He viciously pushed her onto the couch and pointed a finger at her. “All you had to do was stay in the damn bedroom!” He then began to ran his fingers repeatedly through his hair. “Do you know what you’ve done?” He walked away from her. “Do you have any fracking idea what you have done!”

“Draco, what about David?” She held back her tears as she imagined all the things they could be doing to him.

Draco’s angered expression went flat, which was the scariest expression he could give anyone, because one never knew what hid behind those icy, silver orbs of his. He turned his head slowly towards Angelina. “Get out of my sight. Now,” his lips barely moved as he said those words in a whisper, so soft, Angelina wasn’t sure if they were actually spoken.

Angelina was tired of begging, she stood up and marched over to him. “Dammit Draco, listen to me! I want-”

Draco had warned her to get out; he knew he was in danger of losing his control. And as he was blinded by his anger, he struck Angelina across the face for the second time that day. Angelina was going to retaliate, but he was too quick for her as he grabbed her by the arm and swung her onto the ground. She hit her head on the coffee table before landing on the floor. Her hand went to her forehead, which now had a large bleeding gash across it.

“Draco, stop!” she yelled in protest, but her cry went unanswered as Draco stood over her, ready to kick her. But Angelina would not give him that opportunity; she grabbed his ankle and pulled his leg from underneath him. He landed hard on his back as Angelina tried to get up and step over him, but this time it was Draco who grabbed Angelina’s ankle and forced her back onto the floor.

She fell on top of him and took this as her chance to strike back. She balled her hand up into a fist and struck his face, but before she could get in another hit, Draco, being stronger than her, quickly managed to grab her hand mid-swing and roll over placing him on top of her. As he straddled her, he put both of his hands around her neck and started to squeeze.

Angelina made little sounds as her windpipe was being crushed and although it didn’t look good for her, she continued to fight. She started hitting his arms trying to break them from their lock, long enough for her to escape, but it was no use. She soon started to claw and grab at Draco’s chest because she couldn’t reach his face as he held his chin high. Her attempts to free herself from her husband’s grip grew feeble as she started to see spots in front of her eyes. Finally, having no more strength left, her eyes soon closed and her arms dropped to the floor.

As her arms fell, the gleam from Angelina’s watch caught Draco’s eye and he looked up to see what it was. As he looked up he caught his reflection in the sliding glass patio door, but it was not his face that he saw, but the face of his father. He looked back down and didn’t see the face of Angelina, but the face of his mother.

He then heard a soft whimper and turned his head to locate where the sound was coming from. In the doorway, that lead to the front of the house stood Darcy, the little house elf, her hands were over her mouth, trying not to be heard as she cried. But again, Draco did not see what was actually there. What he saw was himself as a small child as he witnessed his father beat him mother, for something his father did not approve of her doing.

It was then, as that little boy, Draco had promised himself he would never lose control like that, he would never take his anger out on his wife, he would never be the man he saw in front of him, he would never be his father.

Draco looked back down and this time saw Angelina. His hands were still tightly around her neck. Draco’s eyes went wide with shock, as if now just realizing what he was doing. He removed his hands from around her neck and got off her. She had passed out due to the lack of oxygen, but Draco could tell she was still alive by the soft rise and fall of her chest. He gathered her up in his arms and pulled her close to him. Her head fell back and her arms were limp at her sides. Draco buried his face in her neck and began to rock back and forth. “I’m not my father. I’m not my father.” He repeated several times before picking Angelina up and carrying her to their bedroom, crying tears he would never allow her to see.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Angelina snapped straight up, gasping for air as her hand went to her throat. She was alone in the bedroom and began shaking and panting as she realized what had happened to her. She touched her forehead and felt that her wound had been addressed. She immediately got out of bed and reached under it and pulled out a suitcase. She put the suitcase on the bed and went to the dresser to pull out her clothes. I should have left when I had the chance, she thought. I should have listened to David, she paused. David. She knew he had not been as lucky as her, for she had survived the night. Tears stung in her eyes, with the thought, and she continued to pack.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Came Draco’s voice out of nowhere.

Angelina gasped and then looked up from her packing and wiped away her tears. She did not want him to know that he had gotten the better of her. “I’m leaving you,” she stated defiantly.

“Like hell you are.”

“Watch me.” She closed the suitcase and zipped it up. She took it off the bed and started to wheel it towards the door.

Draco slammed the door and blocked it. “You’re not leaving this house. Not till I say so!” He realized that he sounded angry and took a deep breath before speaking again. “Tulip, please. Listen to me. You don’t know what you’ve done. It’s safer here.”

“Safer!” she yelled. “You tried to kill me!”

His gaze fell towards the floor as he rubbed the bump on the back of his head. “Yeah, about that.” His eyes then raked up her body and stopped when he saw the impressions of his hands around her neck. His shoulders dropped slightly. “It won’t happen again.”

With his eyes still intently on her, Angelina felt uncomfortable and her hand went back up to her neck. Seeing this Draco finally made eye contact as she spoke. “I don’t believe you, Draco.” A single tear fell down her cheek.

Draco’s lips were pressed together in hard thought. His voice was even. “I don’t care what you believe, Tulip,” he explained. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve put the wards back up. I also have two men posted at all the doors leading outside. And if, by some chance, you do manage to slip by them, I have several more walking around the gates of the estate.” He turned around and opened the door. “This is Justice. Alan Justice. He’ll be here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” Justice nodded towards Angelina.

“You can’t keep me here like some prisoner,” she told him, but he wasn’t listening. “Draco.” He walked out the door and closed it. “Draco!” He heard some object slam up against the door as she started screaming.

Draco shook his head and sighed heavily. “Keep her safe,” he told Justice before leaving. Little did Angelina know, that the men posted around the estate weren’t only there to keep her in, but to keep a certain someone out.

 
Chapter Nine: When Doves Cry

“You’ve fracked up, Malfoy,” Goyle was not very happy. "Without Montague’s connections, we might as well call this quits now.”

“No,” Draco shook his head. “We can still do this.”

“Do you care to explain how? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like we’ve. . . no, excuse me, you have just flushed years of work down the drain,” Goyle explained. “You weren’t actually suppose to kill him!” he yelled.

“Hey!” Draco would not be yelled at in his own home. “He’s the one who shouldn''t have gotten caught, okay?”

Goyle leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “He shouldn''t have gotten caught betraying the Dark Lord or shouldn''t have gotten caught screwing your wife?” If looks could kill, Goyle would have been dead the moment he finished the question.

“My wife is not an issue in this matter, so I suggest that we change the subject and fast.”

Goyle narrowed his eyes and stared at Draco. It was then that Crabbe decided to speak up. “Calm down guys, there is no need to get all uptight about this. Listen, I’ve gone with Montague before to meet one of his contacts. I can meet up with him and tell him, our version, of what happened and he can inform the others,” Crabbe paused and when he had no rejections he continued. “We have to be careful from now on. They have to know by now Montague was working with someone. We can not afford someone else within this operation getting caught.”

“Yeah, we’re lucky Montague didn’t rat us out for the hell of it,” Goyle commented.

“No, we’re lucky that his tongue was the first thing to go,” Draco smiled and turned his head to Crabbe. “So the contact, who is it? Because I think it’s about time that we started pulling this together.” Crabbe looked a little hesitate and looked at Goyle. “What?”

Crabbe then said slowly, “The contact is Fred Weasley.”

Draco looked at him in disbelief. "You''re kidding me, right? That doesn''t make sense, not after Montague-"

"I know," Crabbe cut in, then said softly to himself. "Believe me I know."

Draco then gave off a little laugh. “Well, isn’t life perfect?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. I really don’t need this kind of stress, he thought before saying. “How soon can we get word with him?”

“I can leave for Iceland as soon as tomorrow,” Crabbe answered.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s too soon after Montague’s death for you to be taking mysterious trips. We should wait a few weeks,” Goyle suggested and the others agreed.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The next few weeks passed dreadfully slow. The house was much too quiet for Draco''s liking and he thought himself stupid for missing the sound of Angelina’s voice. He had convinced her to stay, but he was getting the silent treatment and it was like being by himself anyway.

“Alright!” Draco yelled as he threw down his napkin on the dinner table. “Enough with this foolishness.” Angelina chewed her food slowly as she looked across the table at him. “I tried to kill you, you tried to kill me; can we please just put it behind us and get on with our lives?” he sounded upset.

“No need to yell, Draco,” she said coolly. “I’m only five feet away.”

Draco sunk in his chair. “You’re trying to drive me mad, aren’t you, woman?”

“Depends,” she took a sip of her wine. “Is it working?”

“Yes!”

“Good,” he saw her smile for the first time in weeks, which made his smile too.

“So,” he exhaled. “Are we going to be okay?”

Angelina looked down at her plate. “Yes,” she looked back at him. “In time, I think we will be.”

And that one sentence, those eight little words, reaffirmed Draco’s hope. A hope that had not died when Draco was a boy, because unknown to his father, a requirement of breaking the curse had been fulfilled, not by Draco, but by Angelina herself.
END FLASHBACK
Please note: Not everything that occurred in the flashback was a memory of Angelina’s.

“Tulip. Tulip?” Draco called. “Are you listening to me?”

“Huh? What?” Angelina was pulled from her memories. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I said, ‘Are you ready for the performance of your life?’” Draco asked as they stood outside the huge wooden doors.

Angelina reached in her purse and pulled out a compact mirror and checked her make-up and hair. “As ready as I’m ever going to be.”

“Put the mirror away, you look good,” he smiled. “Not as good as me of course, but a close second.”

“Cute,” she tilted her head to one side. As they got closer to the doors, they opened up and Draco and Angelina stepped into a large banquet hall full of many people. The people were made up of followers of the Dark Lord and their spouses. Draco and Angelina were on top of a flight of stairs looking at the people below them as they began their way down. “I don’t want be here all night, Draco.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve. People will think it strange if we leave early,” he spoke as they continued down the stairs.

“Alright, but I’m telling you right now, if you leave me alone with your father, while you high tail it to the other side of the room, like you did last year, I will not be responsible for my actions,” Draco only laughed. “Go ahead laugh it up, see if I’m playing,” he continued to laugh, though he knew she was dead serious.

Later on, much to Draco''s amusement, he had done the very thing she had told him not to and she was pissed off for well over an hour, but other than that, the rest of the night, much to their surprise, had gone fairly well. “5. . . 4. . . 3. . . 2. . . 1. . . Happy New Year!” Could be heard throughout the room.

“Happy Anniversary, Tulip,” Draco pulled Angelina close and whispered in her ear. He took the champaign glass out of her hand, thinking she had had a bit too much for one night. “Dance with me.”

“First off, our anniversary was yesterday,” she smiled. “Second, you know I can’t dance.”

“Okay, first off, I knew that,” he lied. “Second, dance with me anyway.” He led her out into the dance floor and she did not protest. “This isn’t too bad now is it?”

“No, it’s not.” She had a funny smile on her face.

“What''s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just a little tired I suppose,” after a yawn she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” Angelina turned her head to see Pansy Parkinson.

“Oh, no I guess not,” Angelina started to slip away from Draco, but he took hold of her hand.

“I mind.” Draco stared coldly at Pansy.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” she sassed. “It’s not like I’m trying to get you back or something.” She purposely put her left hand on her chest showing off her rare, black diamond engagement ring. “You remember Moon, right? Niccolia Moon?”

“Of course, good man. I feel sorry for him.”

“Well,” Pansy then looked at Angelina. “At least he will have a proper wife.”

“Excuse me?” Angelina said angrily. “Proper? And what would you consider proper? A wife that waits on her husband hand and foot? Who doesn’t speak until spoken to? And then when she is, she’s only allow to say ‘Yes sir’ or ‘No sir’? Please, give me break. If a man wants someone to sit, stay, and beg, he can get a dog. But then again,” Angelina looked over Pansy, “maybe Moon already has one.”

Pansy gave Angelina a disgusted look and then gave a soft smile. “You know what, I’m going to let that slide. Because I already know you''re jealous because you can never be me. It’s okay, if I were you, I would be jealous too.” And she walked away to join her circle of friends.

“Okay,” Angelina drawled. “Did I miss something?”

“No, not really. But if anyone is jealous, it’s her of you. I guess she’s still bitter about only being second best.”

They then continued to dance, but his statement didn''t sit too well with Angelina. “What do you mean?” she asked after a moment.

“As you know, I used to date Parkinson.” Angelina nodded her head. “Well, my father kind of narrowed my companion choices down to you and her. And early on seventh year, I found out some things about Pansy that I didn’t like, so when my father gave me a choice between the two of you. . . I chose you.”

-SMACK-

“shoot! What the hell?” Draco yelled as Angelina lifted her dress, so she wouldn’t step on it, and stormed off. Draco rubbed his face and noticed people were looking at him and that others were watching her leave.

Draco then laughed nervously and scanned the room with his eyes until they locked with his father’s, who did not look very pleased. Great, Draco thought. All I need is another lecture about how I can’t control my wife. And he stormed off after her.

“You chose me!” Angelina yelled once they were in the privacy of their own home.

“Tulip, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she paced around the room. “He chose me,” she spoke toherself. “The moron chose me.”

“Tulip,” he got in front of her and took her by the arms. “Tulip, stop. Why are you so upset?”

She looked at him like he was an idiot and yanked herself away from his grasp. “Why Draco? Why didn’t you just choose Pansy? Why did you make me think there was no choice in the matter, like you were forced into this just like I was, huh?”

Draco lowered his head. After all this time, is that still what she truly wants? he asked himself. “I don’t think you’d understand,” he finally told her.

“Try me,” she crossed her arms and waited for him to explain.

“Fine. I chose you because Pansy would not have been the kind of wife you have been to me. I know she would have left me to die that night I came home after the battle. I know she would have never forgiven me, for killing off her lover, or losing control like I did later that night. I know she would not have been strong enough to put up with me and stay with me even if I begged on my knees.”

He continued upset, “I know she would have ratted me out the moment she suspected that I wasn’t one hundred percent loyal to the Dark Lord.” Angelina had found out earlier on that Draco, for years, had been planning to bring down the Dark Lord, though she wasn’t allowed in all the details. “She was right you know, you’ll never be her and I’m thankful everyday for that,” he said sincerely. Then without any kind of response from her, he headed upstairs.

Draco was in the middle of getting out of his formal attire when he heard something behind him. “Nice boxers,” came the voice.

He turned to see Angelina in the doorway as he softly smiled. “Yes, my wife does have a good sense of style,” he informed her.

“I was out of line, Draco,” she came out and said as she approached him. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Draco shook his head. “It’s okay. Believe it or not, I’ve been more embarrassed than that.”

Angelina smiled. “I’m glad you’re not upset.”

"Yeah, me too." Draco knew if what happened tonight had occurred several years ago, he would not have been this calm.

"Well, I''m going to call it night," Angelina began as she turned her back to him. “But do you think you could you help me, please?” she asked. "I can''t quite get the zipper on my own."

Draco took the zipper with his thumb and index finger and as he slowly unzipped the dress he stroked the soft skin of Angelina’s back. Why does she torture me like this, allowing me to be so close?

The deal had always been that she would come to him and Draco was starting to learn to be a patient man, but tonight he could no longer fight his urge to be with her. So Draco leaned in and with his lips followed by his tongue grazed Angelina''s shoulder and the side of her neck as she tilted it to one side.

Not much to his surprise, he heard her give off a soft moan, but then suddently he felt the zipper sip out of his fingers and she turned to face him. “Um. . .” she clutched the top of her strapless dress so it wouldn’t fall off. “I''ll just um. . . go now." She started towards the door to go to her own bedroom.

“Tulip, wait,” Draco caught her from behind. “Why are you so afraid of the idea of us?” he asked as he slid his hands down the length of her arms. “Is it really that farfetched?”

“No, it''s just. . . oh Draco,” she said faintly as her eyes closed and her head fell back onto his bare chest. "We''ve come such a long way, I don''t want to ruin that."

"I know, but don''t you think it''s time for us to stop pretending? I mean, I already have," he began. "You make me happy, Tulip. I just want to make you feel the same way." Draco then once again leaned down and lightly kissed Angelina’s shoulder. He slowly reached for her hands, which still had a hold of her dress, and slipped them into his own. The sparkling pink gown cascaded off the curves of Angelina’s form and pooled itself around her feet on the floor.

Releasing Draco’s hands, Angelina turned around and stepped out of her dress as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Draco snaked his arms around her waist and they guided each other to the edge of the bed, where they stripped the other of their remaing clothes. They then fell onto the bed in one another’s embrace.

Angelina landed on her back and Draco landed on top of her. He took her by the wrists and pushed her arms above her head. He then slowly brushed his lips sweetly against hers before slightly pulling away to study her face, but mostly her lips, before once again leaning in so that he could claim them with his own, but he did so with a tenderness Angelina never knew he possessed.

She then heard Draco softly chuckle as his eyes locked with hers. There was a devious spark in his eye as his lips left hers for other places his mouth could explore. As he traveled further down her body, she felt his hands loosen from her wrists and begin to glide down her arms, leaving behind a tingling feeling as they passed.

Draco could feel Angelina''s rapid heart beating as he kissed her breast, parts of her stomach, and then the inner part of her thigh. “Stop,” she whispered as she reached down and touched his cheek. “That’s tickles.”

He said nothing as first, but only tilted his head into her touch before once again kissing her thigh. “Angelina?” he then called softly as he crawled back up her body so he could be eye level with her.

Angelina wrapped her arms around him and outlined, with her fingers, the muscles on his back. She could also feel his arousal rubbing up against her. “Yes?”

Draco kissed her cheek and then asked huskily into her ear, “Will you do something for me?”

“Anything,” she told him eagerly, but then felt his body become a little tense.

“Tell me- tell me you love me,” Draco immediately felt a hand on his chest and with a jerk he was slightly pushed away.

“But we. . . I-” she stammered as she shook her head.

“No, it’s okay," Draco cast his eyes away. "I shouldn’t have asked you that.” Angelina could, unmistakably, hear the hurt in his voice.

She then gingerly moved her hand from his chest and took a hold of his jaw and made him look at her. Her brown eyes locked with his gray ones and somehow, Draco felt as if she was looking into the inner most depths of his soul. Angelina then licked her lips and said with a breath, “I love you, Draco Lucius Malfoy.” And she smiled a smile, Draco knew was reserved only for him.

“Say it again,” he told her as he returned her smile.

She giggled and pulled him closer to her. “I love you!” she threw her head back and shouted.

“One more time,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she whispered back and as she did their two bodies became one.

And as they made love, a feeling of completeness took over Draco’s senses. Because though he had wealth, though he had power, it was love he could never seem to grasp. When he had Pansy, back in school, he had no doubt that she would be the woman he would marry. She adored him or at least that what she had him believe. So much so that though his father had warn him about their curse which was made at the beginning of time, before he had started school, Draco had thought the curse had run its path and no longer applied. He was as sure of that as the love he knew Pansy held for him.

But then came the day everything changed. The common room was empty as the night''s moon had been in the sky for many hours. Draco, as Headboy, was just finishing up a few of his duties around the school when he was making his way quietly back to the Slytherin common room. He was surprised to hear a couple of voices as his form was covered in darkness still near the common room door. He soon recognized one of the voices as Pansy''s as she spoke to one of her friends.

Draco could do nothing but close his eyes as Pansy went on about how all her hard work over the years was finally paying off. How she and her family would be set for life once she had the name ''Malfoy'' attached to her own. Her friend than asked her if she felt anything for him as all. Draco''s face set in anger as he heard Pansy only laugh at the question as she told her friend not to be ridiculous. A week later, Draco broke everything off with Pansy, surprised with himself that after years of being with her, that it didn''t hurt more. She was naturally upset, but Draco knew it wasn''t over him, but his name. He left her crying not for a moment phased by her tears.

But things were different now with this woman, with Angelina his wife. She had never cared about his name. Her love has be genuine. She has no reason to lie, Draco thought as he tasted her brown skin; his ears enticed by the sounds of pleasure she made as she laid beneath him. “Oh, Angelina,” he called softly as they both started to approach their climax.

Angelina’s head tilted away from Draco as she arched her back, aching to be closer to him than she already was. “David,” she breathed.

Draco''s forehead crease as he slowly pulled away and looked upon Angelina. Her eyes were still closed and there was a look of pure bliss upon face. She was unaware of what she had just called him or maybe Draco had misheard her. No, he knew he hadn’t. All of a sudden Draco didn’t feel so well and he completely pulled away from Angelina.

Angelina’s eyes opened immediately from the abrupt lost of contact. “Draco?” she was confused as she watched him get out of bed. He didn’t even look at her as he put on his housecoat and left the room.

Angelina sat up and wondered what had just happened. A moment ago they were making love, finally consummating their marriage after fives years. Then without any kind of warning, he just walked out of the room when they were finished. Angelina drew her legs in and wrapped her arms around them, feeling the last thing she thought she would at this moment. . . used. And as that feeling filled her, she couldn’t stop the flow of tears that slid down her cheeks.

But little did she know that Draco was downstairs feeling the exact same way. “How could you be so thick?” he asked himself angrily as he made his way to the living room. “What made you think she actually loved you? Because you asked and she said she did?” He rested on the couch with his elbows on his legs and his face in his hands. “How thick can you be?”

He was determined not to let a tear fall, but unlike many other elements in his life he could control, his tears were not one of them. His father was right those years ago. Draco had allowed Angelina to rule his emotions, and he hated her for it. Because she was the only one who could ever make him feel this miserable, this insignificant, and worst of all, this weak.

 
Chapter Ten: Withering

It was the middle of February and Draco wanted nothing more than to forget about that night him and Angelina had made love. He just wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, because he knew if he didn’t, it would slowly start to drive him insane, and he just didn’t want to be angry anymore.

Angelina had tried once before to confront Draco about that night, but he just didn’t want to hear it. Angelina wanted to let it go, but soon found she wasn’t able to. That night, she had never felt so alone in her life and today, she was determined to get some kind of answer out of him.

Draco was in his study, surprisingly not reading, but seating at his desk writing a letter to Crabbe, who was on another trip to Iceland. He wanted a full report as soon as possible. As Draco was sealing the letter, he heard Angelina enter the room. He turned around in his chair and it was as if he was looking at her for the first time in a long time. He had not noticed before how frail she had become in the last month. “What do you need?” he asked her.

She came in and took a seat behind him on the couch. “To put some things behind us.”

Draco sighed, he knew what this was about. “I’ve told you before, I don’t want to talk about it.” He turned back around in his seat.

“Are you mad because of what happened at the party?” she asked. “I thought you weren’t angry about that.”

“I’m not,” he spoke with his back to her. “Tulip, can’t you just leave well enough alone?”

“No,” she stood and walked over to his desk. She leaned against it and lifted Draco''s head so she could look into his eyes. “Not long ago you told me that acting wasn’t an option anymore. So you pretending that something isn’t wrong, isn’t cutting it. I can’t leave it alone.” She cupped his face gently. “I care about you, Draco.”

Draco slapped her hand away. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” she stated upset. “But you need to listen to reason.” Draco pulled out another piece of parchment and began writing. “Draco.” He wasn’t listening. “Draco!”

“Well!” he said loudly as he slammed his quill down and then said quietly. “At least I know you haven’t forgotten my name.”

Angelina shook her head. “I don’t follow.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. One would think after more than two years you would have forgotten about him by now.”

Angelina was confused, but knew whom he meant. “You mean David.”

Draco turned his head to her. “Of course I mean David.”

“Alright, but David is gone,” she said sadly. “What does he have to do with us now?”

“Do you miss him?” Draco blurted out.

“What kind of question is that?”

“Damn woman, just answer me.”

“And if I said yes?” she asked. “What would it mean to you?”

One side of Draco’s mouth curled up. “He never told you, did he?” Angelina looked at him strangely. “Of course he didn’t, why would he?”

Even when I hated you, I knew I only hated you because I thought I could never have you. Yet, even then I knew I would do anything to make you mine. Forgive me, because it was I-. Angelina thought back to the last words Montague ever said to her. She had tried to block those words out so many times before, but they constantly replayed in her head. “What did he do?” She found herself whispering.

“Believe it or not, what I have become, under my father’s hand, under the rule of Voldemort, was never what I wanted. I was forced to take this.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the imbedded black ink on his pale white skin. “But your precious Montague took it willingly and did his job with pleasure,” Draco explained. “It was he and his group, that volunteered to go after those who had fled the battle ground when Potter was defeated those years ago. It was he alone, that caused the demise of that Mudblood, Granger, and three of the Weasley siblings.”

“No,” Angelina shook her head.

“Yes. And you want to know what else?” Draco asked her. “With the youngest Weasley boy, it was quick. Ron never knew what hit him, same thing for the girl; he vaporized her on the spot. But with George. . . now he got it the worst. I wasn’t there mind you, but I heard his screams and Montague’s laughter still haunt the Death Eaters that went with him that day. And wouldn’t you like to know, that the only reason George got it so bad, was because Montague had mistaken him for Fred?” Draco watched a tear roll off of Angelina’s cheek. “So tell me, do you miss him now?”

“That’s not true,” she replied.

“Why kid yourself? You knew very well what Montague was. Did you really think being with him would change him?”

“He had changed. He was tired of doing the Dark Lord’s dirty work. That’s why he joined with you.”

Draco laughed as he rose out his seat. “Did he tell you that?” He walked over to his couch and got comfortable. “And let me guess, you believed him?” Draco then said slowly, “Well, guess I can’t blame you for that, so did I. But then again, I should have known better, I always knew Montague was out for himself. If he wanted something, believe me, he found a way to get it. And if it did look like he was kind, compassionate, or even just a good friend- it was just one of his many plans in motion. What can say, it was just how Montague worked.”

Draco licked his lips and continued. “I can see it now, he probably wanted you two to run away together, am I right?” he got no response from Angelina. “Yeah, that was probably it. And Montague always thought everything out, so if you did decide to leave with him, he wanted to make sure you didn’t change your mind, so he probably wanted to kill me off before you left, huh?”

“I wasn’t going to let that happen,” she said softly with tired eyes.

“Of course not, you’re my wife. It’s your duty.”

“Not everything I do for you is out of some obligation.”

Draco sat there a moment. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he got up and stood in front of her. “You’re talking about last month.”

“Yes, but that’s because you said-” she was cut off.

“What? That we should be something more? That we should stop pretending?” he laughed once more. “And let me guess, you believed that too?” He put his hand on her cheek and noticed she felt a bit warm as he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “Face it. I said what I needed to get what I wanted. But if it makes you feel any better, you were all around, a good frack,” he smirked.

Angelina slowly pushed Draco’s hand away from her. “You know what? I don’t know why I ever believed that you were capable of having a heart. Because your heart is nothing more than a desert, where nothing can prosper, where nothing can grow. I realize now that I am nothing more to you than some possession, something you tolerate when it’s convenient.”

Draco watched as another tear roll down her angry, but sad face. “That night, I thought you were trying to offer me something real, and yes, like a fool I fell for it. But Draco, all I wanted was to be. . .” she trailed off. “You know what? Forget about it, you may have fooled me once, but believe me, I won''t make that mistake again.” Angelina then bolted towards the exit, but stopped in the doorway and said without looking at him. "Oh, and before I forget, Draco. . . Happy Valentine''s Day." And with that, she disappeared down the hall.

Draco cringed the moment she was out of his sight. What the hell is wrong with you? he thought. She didn’t have to know about Montague. . . well, at least you didn’t tell her everything.

And as he debated whether or not to go after her, he heard a thud come from down the hall. At first he just thought it was Angelina having one of her temper tantrums, but then, “Master!” A male house elf, whose name Draco could not remember, appeared in the doorway of his study. “Come quickly, it’s Madam.” The house elf pointed down the hall.

“What?” Draco broke into a run down the hall and found Angelina collapsed on the floor. Draco slid to his knees and turned her over. “Tulip,” he called as he tried to wake her. “Angelina, talk to me,” but she remained motionless. “Come on baby, please,” there was still nothing. “shoot!” he yelled as he picked her up off the floor and Apparated out of the Manor.

Within moments they had arrived at the hospital. With Angelina in his arms, Draco made his way to the front desk. “Get me a Healer!” he demanded of the Head Nurse. Everything else, after they took Angelina away from him, which was a difficult task because he was holding on so tight he couldn’t let go, became a blur to him.

He couldn’t even remember how he came to be resting in the waiting room when a Healer came in looking for him or how much time had passed by. “Zabini,” Draco recognized his former housemate.

“Hello, Malfoy,” Zabini greeted him. “I’m sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances.”

“How is she?” Draco asked immediately. “I mean, one moment she was fine and the next,” he shook his head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t wake her.”

Zabini sighed. “Follow me Malfoy. I’ll show you what room we have your wife in.” Draco said nothing as he followed the Healer down the hall towards his wife’s room. When they got there, Draco looked through the window of the door and saw that she had still not waken up. A nurse was checking over her with a chart in one hand and wand in the other. “I’m not her usual Healer -she’s out this week- but your wife was here not too long ago for her annual check up.” Zabini flipped through his chart. “Everything was fine, more than fine actually.”

“Will you cut through the crap and tell me what’s wrong with my wife?” Draco couldn’t stand the waiting anymore.

“Well, we’ve ran a few test and done a few charms, but we still don’t know yet. It just seems like her body is deteriorating and there’s no real reason why.”

Draco stood there for a moment, not taking his eyes off of Angelina. “Is she dying?” he asked gravely.

“I’m not really suppose to say unless I’m sure.”

“Zabini,” he said the other''s name in a threatening way.

“Alright. If her health continues to fall at this rate, then yes, I fear we will lose both of them.”

Draco’s head turned to him. “Both of them?”

“Oh, I assumed you knew,” he stated. “Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The day was coming to an end and the radiant colors of the setting sun broke into the hospital room Angelina was sleeping in. Beside her rested Draco, with his left arm draped over her legs as he held her hand with his right one. He could hear nothing but her soft breathing and the steady beat of her heart monitor as he watched her sleep.

His ears perked up, followed by his head, when he heard her take a sharp intake of breath in she sleep. As she slowly exhaled the beeps of the heart monitor started to become less frequent and as her last breath escaped her the monitor played one single note, shattering the peace that once filled the room.

Draco quickly stood up, knocking his chair over, and started hyperventilating as he uncontrollably shook his head. “No. No!” he screamed in a panic. He ran towards the door and swung it open. “I need a Healer!” he yelled, but the halls were empty and no one heard his cry.

Draco immediately started sprinting down the corridors of the hospital, but strangely he saw not one Healer, not one nurse, nor any other patients. It was just him and the sound of his shoes as they made contact with the spotted white tiles that covered the floors.

“Why did you leave her alone to die?” A little voice out of nowhere asked. Draco stopped dead in his tracks, then while panting heavily, he made a complete circle, but saw no one. “Why did you leave her alone!” The little voice yelled.

“Who are you!” Draco demanded, taking another look around him.

There was a moment of silence and then the voice replied. “I’m Time- and you’re running out.”

“No!” Draco’s head snapped up from his dream. Breathing heavily he wiped the thin layer of sweat off his forehead. His heart was pounding so fast, it felt as if it were about to burst out of his chest.

As he looked upon Angelina, who was still sleeping in her hospital bed, Draco never felt so relieved in his life. It had been years since his last nightmare, yet the concept still remained the same. Ever since that morning, when he woke up to find her covered in blood, his nightmares always involved him losing her. Back then, he didn’t know why those dreams had bothered him so much and now that the reality of it was so plausible, Draco didn’t know what to think.

So he was about to do something he told himself he would never do, no matter how desperate the situation may seem. Draco took a hold of Angelina’s hand, lowered his head, and closed his eyes as he was about to do the unthinkable. He took a deep breath and, “Dear God,” he prayed.

To Be Continued. . .

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Preview of the Next Chapter:

None . . .

You are not authorized to comment here. Your must be registered and logged in to comment