Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potterish
I am soooooooo sorry it has taken me to put up another chapter. I have had such a huge writer's block, and to be honest, it's still here a bit. but i have a vague idea, and I'm working on it. It's a long chapter to make up for it. Sorry again.
This is dedicated to all girls (and boys) who think that Lucius Malfoy (Jason Isaacs) is so drool worthy.
Thoughts are in italics
As she made her way to her table for breakfast, Amaya could feel the tension as though she was wading a quagmire, treacle thick and spine chilling. She frowned at the glares as she walked hand in hand with Draco and sat down. As she stirred in brown sugar into her porridge and sipped her tea to help ward off the bitter, biting cold of late October, that had set in; Amaya heard the flurry of wings that signalled the arrival of post. At an urgent mutter of her name from Pansy, Amaya looked up, and paled as she saw three owls sweeping towards her bearing large and oddly shaped parcels. From the corner of her eye, she saw her Papa grin at her alarm. The first proved to be a saxophone. Amaya looked up at her Papa and Sirius as she stroked the elegant arch of the instrument before replacing it carefully before moving eagerly to the next parcel which proved to be a flute. Amaya tore impatiently at the strings which bound the last parcel, while her parents watched, smiling.
With a gasp of delight, Amaya held up the violin to the pale, weak sunlight that shone through the enchanted roof. She reverently caressed the gleaming mahogany wood with her long pale fingers along the gleaming spruce and admired the ebony fingerboard. A quick flick of the strings revealed them to be made of gut. Probably have protective charms on them. Gut snaps easily. Draco smirked at the display.
'Go on then.' Amaya looked up to see Pansy, Blaise Millicent and Draco watching her expectantly
'What?' Amaya queried
'Play something. You're dying to.' Amaya silently cursed her boyfriend for his ability to read her, and her friends for doing anything that he would. Annoyed at the chant of 'Play. Play. Play.' Amaya reluctantly rosined the bow, stood and tucked the instrument under her chin. One piece can't hurt. I'll only play quietly. At first her playing was virtually inaudible, lightly touching the strings to produce as soft a sound as she could manage. The song was an old one she had played along with Remus on the beach off their French villa, and as the music gripped her she forgot herself and her location, lost herself in the memory. Her playing gathered strength as her eyes slipped shut and she swayed with the beat the slow, sweetly simple melody swept powerfully across the room speaking of sun drenched summers filled with youthful laughter and hours of unsullied joy. Yet it hinted at the sadness and loss that awaited all as they left childhood and became adults. All too soon the music ended and Amaya was jarred from her trance by applause from the High table. Startled, she looked up to see Dumbledore standing up and clapping loudly along with James, Lily, Remus and Sirius. Face burning, Amaya scurried back to her table and swiftly sat down.
'Oh shut up' she muttered to her friends with mock fierceness who were also clapping.
'Look at the Gryffindors.' Pansy hissed gleefully 'Weasley girl looks pig sick.' Looking over, Amaya caught Harry regarding her with an unreadable expression. Ginny on the other hand showed an unmistakeable expression as she glared at Amaya. Unable to stop herself, Amaya rose smiling sweetly and swept a graceful curtsy before sitting again. A vague comment from the Headmaster reached her ears about 'Music being the greatest of all magic we can create,' but was too busy wishing Draco good luck to take too much notice.
Amaya knew very little of Quidditch having never watched it before, however within four minutes and thirty six seconds she had seen enough to know that it had the rough brutality of rugby and the unsportmanship of football. She was enthralled. Fifty seven minutes later and was close to biting her nails. Having screamed her throat hoarse as she cheered Draco on, ducked as both he and Harry rocketed over the stands in pursuit of the Snitch, which had since been lost, and hidden behind her hands as a Bludger sank itself into the stomach of their Goal keeper; Amaya fixed her eyes on her boyfriend while she gnawed on the delicate skin which framed her nails, praying for a quick finish to the game. So it was she who first shrieked as she saw Draco go into a steep dive. Following his line of sight, Amaya could see a faint shine of gold and screamed all the more. At 90 to 210 to Gryffindor, Draco needed to catch the Snitch to win the game. With dismay, Amaya noted the scarlet blur that was Harry entering the chase. Clutching the edge of the stands in a white knuckled grip, blood beginning to seep through to stain her thumbnail, Amaya moaned when she saw Draco spiral onto the turf while Harry flew on. Until, that is, she saw the pure fury on Harry's face. Sprinting down the stairs, she heard the approving roar of the Slytherin crowd and saw Draco's triumphant smirk at Harry as he held his newly caught prize high. Flinging herself into his waiting arms she kissed him soundly. Pulling her arms from round his neck, Draco gently pressed the Snitch into her hand and wrapped her fingers around it before kissing her closed fist tenderly before embracing her again.
'This is for you.' He murmured
Lucius Malfoy felt a deep surge of pride when he saw that his son had caught the Snitch.
'Never mind Potter. Maybe next time.' He said coldly to the man sitting in front of him. James turned and narrowed his hazel eyes into a glare, but Lucius had already swept away. Emerging from the stand, he saw Draco kissing a girl who he presumed to be Black and Lupin's daughter. So caught up in each other were they, that neither of the pair noticed Lucius' presence until he coughed lightly. Jumping as though scalded, Draco stepped away from the girl.
'Father. How pleasant to see you. This is Amaya.' He gestured. 'Amaya this is my Father.'
'Pleased to meet you Sir.' Amaya held out her hand after a moment's indecision whether a curtsy was too formal. Lucius gestured to Draco who wandered back to his team, before bringing her hand swiftly to his lips. Draco has chosen well. She is stunning. Her hair was twisted up into a stylish knot at the back of her head, leaving only a few strands to tumble past her face, which was flushed from the cold. Her blue eyes were bright from the fever of the match. Her attire, although disgustingly muggle, suited her. Her skirt clung to her hips and lengthened her legs while the soft, emerald wool jumper matched the Slytherin scarf draped around her slender neck. Amaya flushed a deep crimson under the elder man's scrutiny and as she wound one honey and about her finger she recalled Sirius and Remus' reluctance to allow her to the Malfoy's and the ensuing conversation.
'Careful Amaya. Careful.' Madame Pomphrey warned as Amaya made her wobbly way from one end of the hospital wing to the other as she made sure that her legs worked properly again.'
'I can't believe I used to take walking for granted.'
'Yes well, don't walk too fast Santhe.' Remus called encouragingly 'You're doing really well, but we don't want you to overdo it and hurt yourself.'
'I'm fine Papa…woops.' As Amaya bumped into a bed. Remus only arched his eyebrow, while Sirius muffled a snort of laughter. Brow furrowed in concentration as she determinedly took one tremulous step after another on her slender, coltish legs, shaky as a new born foal.
'I'm determined to go to this damned Dinner.' For on the small table by her bed, among the sweets and Get Well cards among from her friends, lat a smooth parchment scroll, with an invitation to Malfoy Manor for Dinner written on in gothic writing.
Remus frowned. 'I don't know Santhe. I'm still not so sure.' Dumbledore's warning ran through his mind. Leaning on the end of a bed, Amaya gave her Papa her trademark puppy dog eyes.
'Please Papa. I really want to go. I really like Draco, and I don't want to offend his family. Besides, nothing can happen. Too many people know where I'm going.' Sirius snorted derisively at her naiveté.
'Yeah right, and like that's going to stop Malfoy. I don't want you to go Amaya. The Malfoy's are nasty pieces of work. All Purebloods are.' Amaya was taken aback by the acerbic bitterness in his voice, and by the anger and hatred he radiated. Remus just laughed. 'Hello, Pureblood here.' He said waving, 'And so is James. And our daughter.' Sirius smiled ruefully 'You know what I mean.'
'Why do you hate Purebloods and the Malfoys so much?' Amaya enquired
'Long story. I don't want you to go to the Malfoy's because you are an exceptionally beautiful young girl…' Amaya blushed pleased at the compliment '…And Lucius Malfoy…well… he…I just want you to be careful ok.'
'Sirius has a point Santhe. I remember from school that Lucius Malfoy was not a pleasant man.'
'Understatement.' Sirius snorted
Pulling a galleon from his pocket he tapped it with his wand. The face of the ancient man on the front morphed into a sweeping golden rose. Drawing a dagger from his belt, Sirius drew the blade quickly across his palm. Pressing the gold to his cut, Sirius waited until blood had seeped into every crevice. Closing his fist around the coin, he brought his fist to his mouth and muttered 'Blutreisender'. The blood soaked into the metal instantly, leaving it a glorious yellow colour once more.
'As it is, you are unable to go. Poppy still thinks that you aren't well enough to go anywhere. However, I won't try too hard to stop you because if you are anything like I was, you will just ignore me. But I want you to be careful, and if you get into trouble think of me. Do you understand? Picture me in your mind and you'll come to me. Regardless of any warding.' Amaya took the pro offered medallion, and fastened it to a long chain, so that it nestled next to her heart, silently appreciating the worry.
As Lucius courteously asked her to walk with him, Amaya twitched with unease, but after tracing the design of the rose, agreed.
They walked slowly along the edge of the forest, its forbidding silence fuelling Amaya's nervousness. The quiet atmosphere was dominated by Lucius' powerful presence and Amaya could practically taste the cold arrogance he emitted every time she drew breath. Not very pleasant. Sirius' words came back to her and Amaya began to wish that her short, dark skirt was longer. Why in God's name didn't I wear my long one she silently admonished herself. She had never felt so exposed.
'I am sorry that you were unable to attend dinner.'
'I am too Sir.'
'Sorry. I would have liked to have come, but I was injured and was unable to.'
'I am sorry to hear that. How?'
'How were you injured? I presume that it was from the Death Eater attack, yet I sent the invitation more than a week afterwards. Your injuries must have been severe Miss Black.'
'It's Lupin.' Amaya spoke fiercely. At Lucius' raised eyebrow, Amaya felt childish and looked down, more uncomfortable than ever. She didn't dare to look up, to meet those grey eyes that seemed to see directly through her, and dissect her ever so coolly. As if she was some interesting insect he wanted to understand.
'It's Amaya. And please don't call me Black. Papa raised me so it is his name I take.'
Though she never raised her eyes from the hard cold ground, Amaya could feel Lucius watching her, assessing her. She began to absentmindedly trace designs on the ground with the toe of her boot.
One gloved finger gently pressed under her chin, making her tilt her head until she was looking into his eyes. Pale eyes. Like Sirius. Like me.
'Why are you so nervous?'
'Meeting you.' Amaya stammered, 'If I had known, I would have picked something more appropriate.' She plucked at the hem of her skirt. 'Something Wizard.' Meeting his eyes once more, Amaya smiled bashfully. 'It feels like a test.'
'You are doing wonderfully.' Lucius assured her, yet his smile would have soothed her, had it warmed his icy eyes. The finger that had rested under her jaw moved to trace from the corner of her eyes, along her flushed cheeks to the corner of her full mouth.
'My son has chosen well.'
Amaya was suddenly struck by how far away from the Quidditch pitch she now was. The cheers of the crowd were a faint indistinct mumble. Alone with this dangerously powerful man. In the habit the mind has of thinking totally inappropriate things at totally inappropriate times, Amaya speculated on how Draco would look when older. If he even closely resembled his Father, than his wife would be a very fortunate woman.
'He has chosen very well indeed.' Lucius smiled at her, and again it failed to reach his eyes. 'We are having a Masquerade ball for Christmas. I do hope that you will manage to join us. I look forward to seeing you again Miss Lupin.' He pressed another kiss to her frozen fingers. 'Amaya.' He whispered, still bent over her hand. In the next instant he had swept off, leaving Amaya alone behind where she stood bewildered by their meeting. Feeling brushings against her fingers, Amaya looked down to see that she still had Draco's gift of the Snitch folded in her hand. The fluttering of its wings were curiously matched by the troubled fluttering in her stomach. And she suddenly felt very muddled.