Altered for the Altar

At a time that I know to be well into the early hours of the morning, a pecking sound vibrates on a window sill in the living room. I’m asleep on the sofa when the sound starts while Draco lounges on the floor once more, both of us dozing, exhausted from our picnic date earlier today. Suddenly, the blonde haired man is getting to his feet and frantically searching for his wand and grabbing my hand in order to haul me up. He situates me behind him as I stumble around blearily, then squeezes my hand as I feel his body become rigid while I lean into him.

“What is it?” I whisper.

But Draco doesn’t’ answer me, instead choosing to inch us forward, always making sure that his wide shoulders were blocking me from sight of the window.

It’s hard for me to see in the darkness and I don’t think that Draco can make out what is incessantly tapping on the glass either, but he cautions me to wait as he daringly steps forward. As he goes I scramble to form a plan if he were to get attacked. I try to glance around for a weapon because I’ve yet to receive a wand or any training on how to use it. The only thing I manage to spy is a fire poker resting several feet away, next to the lumbering flames licking each other in the fireplace. I swallow hard as I think on how fast I’ll be able to reach it should this all turn deadly.

A second or two passes in which all I do is stare at Draco’s back. He’s wearing a thin cotton shirt made of dark grey material that clings to his lean figure and perfectly outlines muscle and bone that I’ve yet to feel underneath my palms. I try to distract myself with the way it would look without the t-shirt, but just end up nearly teetering over as he grows closer and closer to the darkened window.

Just as I branch the thought of jumping over to yank him back and drag us to my bedroom to hide, he snorts and I hear as a breath exhales out of his chest. His body visibly relaxes, too.

“Bloody bird,” he mutters as he continues forward. As he leaning forward to open the window, he glances over his shoulders and his grey eyes find me. “It’s alright, love. Just an owl.”

I nearly fall down as relief courses over me and only just manage to catch myself on a little table stuffed over to the left of me. Quickly, though, I scurry over to Draco’s side, my hands balling with the fabric of his t-shirt as I lean into his side. I peer over his shoulder and try to read what he’s unraveled from the owl that was now cleaning it’s wings.

“What is it?” I whisper.

His brows furrow, I notice, when I peek up at him.

“My father will be here soon,” he says.

I frown. “What?”

“He’s paying us a visit, it seems.”

Again, panic flares up so fast that I nearly stagger backwards.

I take it that a visit from Draco’s father isn’t a good thing, especially after what we'd left at the Malfoy’s manor. I wonder if he’ll be injured or being forced to come here by Voldermort, who probably wanted both Draco and I’s heads presented to him.

“Is that safe?”

Glancing back at me, Draco drops the note and untangles my fingers from his t-shirt. He replaces the fabric with his fingers before leaning down to peck my forehead lightly.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs. “It’ll be fine. He’s probably coming to check up on us.”

But I can see the lie in his eyes—I instantly pick up on it. Not only did Draco’s mannerisms give away his fib, but so does Mr. Malfoy’s actions before all of this horror took place. He’d never been a man who struck me as caring father and he certainly was not a human being that would think to put himself in jeopardy in order to just check up on his son and his fiancée. No, I know that Mr. Malfoy’s visit is something that is probably going to bring impending danger with it, in one form or another.

“Maybe we shouldn’t—“

“Elizabeth, it’ll be fine,” Draco interrupts, cupping my face in both of his hands.

“It’s not like him, though, to go out of his way to do something so... nice.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them and it’s not until seconds afterwards, as my eyes widen and my face heats up, that I realize what I’ve said. I flounder for a second, trying to find something to cover up my careless statement and go to withdraw from Draco, but he stops me. He pulls me into his chest before wrapping his arms around my frame.

“I know, but he wouldn’t do anything to us now. He needs us too badly,” he says, tone low.

“I’m sorry. I—“

“Don’t love,” he whispers. “It’s fine. I didn’t figure that you were completely oblivious to how my family works.”

I don’t say anything after that. My mind can’t form anything else and so I just lean into Draco’s warmth, satisfied with remaining there until I hear a crack, then the droning voice of Mr. Malfoy.

“How… Lovely,” he simpers.

Draco’s body tenses up again, becoming rigid as his arms start to slide away from me.

“Father,” Draco nods.

“Draco,” Mr. Malfoy greets in nearly the same way.

I’m ignored, with the elder Malfoy not regarding me with anything other than a look that slides over me to quickly to mean anything. A huff that Draco emits after that makes me think that he gets angry at his fathers blatant ignoring of me, but I can’t see why. The less attention I’m paid the better, I think, otherwise I know it would mean this meeting was, indeed, different from all the others we’ve ever had with his father.

“What brings you here at this hour?” Draco asks stonily.

“To let you know that things haven’t changed. Everything is still going to go according to plan, despite the… brief mishap.”

Draco glances over at me briefly, his eyes finding me where I am still standing next to him. He’d completely retracted himself once his father’s presence had become known and I’d settled for standing alongside him, happy with feeling the warmth radiating off his body. Now his eyes look a little trouble, as if their guarded. I hide how worried that makes me and am the first to look back at Mr. Malfoy.

“Fine.” Draco says. “Anything else?”

“Just that you’re to return tomorrow evening. The plans need to get underway immediately if we’re to make any headway in the next month. We need the numbers as soon as possible or we’ll lose,” the elder Malfoy explains.

A minute or two later and Mr. Malfoy is disappearing. He’d shared a meaningful look with Draco after his son had asked about what exactly happened and I’d taken that to mean that it was either something terribly gruesome and he didn’t want to share the details, or he didn’t want me knowing what events had truly transpired a few days ago. I try to pretend like the latter doesn’t begin festering in my skin and that my heart doesn’t angrily speed up.

I move towards the couch, exhausted once again and dreading heading back to Malfoy manor. Settling into the cushions, I rest my head on my palm and let out a sigh.

Mr. Malfoy’s visit hadn’t brought anything terribly bad as I’d been expecting. Sure, there were moments that shot anxiety into my perforated system, but that was something I’d gotten use to lately. We’d not gotten attacked and it seems that Mr. Malfoy had come alone. He’d been gone for minutes now and no one had tried to barge in yet.

“Are you upset?”

My eyes, which I hadn’t even noticed had lulled shut, snap open at Draco’s words. My eyebrows furrow and I frown while looking up at him.

“What?” I ask.

“I just thought… Well, the wedding’s still on. I figured you wouldn’t be too happy about that,” he explains.

He lowers himself down beside me, sitting with more distance between us than he’s been allowing lately. This makes my frown deepen.

“No, of course not. Why would I mind?”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

But he’s grown sheepish, his face cast down from mine and his gaze now locked onto where his feet rest on the wooden floor. My heart thuds loudly in my chest as I contemplate what to do, but I figure myself to be too tired to properly overthink anything, and just launch myself at the blonde hair man.

I sidled up to him and wrap my arms around one of his, nuzzling my face into his neck and daringly placing a few kisses on the skin there. I situate myself so I’m nearly in his lap, then sigh while resting my head on his shoulder. It takes him a few seconds but he place his hand on my knee and peppers some kisses in my hair.

“Let’s not think about any of that now,” I murmur. “We should just rest.”



“Elizabeth, love, wake up.”

Someone is shaking me. It’s rattling my brain and causing flames of annoyance to rise up and consume my peaceful mindset. I bat away the hands, growing confused when a chuckle flows out before another round of coaxing to open my eyes starts. When I do get them open, a disheveled looking Draco is what I’m met with. I almost smile but am cut off by a yawn. Again, Draco lets out a soft laugh.

“Come on, love. We’ve got to go soon,” he quietly says.

Begrudgingly, I drag myself to a sitting position. A blanket falls away from my shoulders as I rise a hand to run along the side of my face and through my hair. I yawn again before managing to plant my feet on the cold, hardwood floor.

“What time is it?” I murmur thickly.

“’Bout noon, darling. We slept a little late.”

It takes a few minutes for me to get my bearings, but Draco gives me a steaming cup of what I guess is coffee and settles beside me to sip on his. As I take a gulp of the hot, caffeinated liquid, I notice that a rare bout of sunshine is careening in through the mist covered windows. It’s not going to be a warm day, that I can tell by how chilled my body already is, but the sunshine will be nice, I think.

I’m almost tempted to let myself feel good about today, to feel positive about how things will go, but the reminder of where we’re headed punctures that floating balloon. Today we’ll be going back to Malfoy manor—back to a place that several people most likely lost their life days ago.

I almost become sick at the idea that I’ll have to sleep and eat in a house where someone was thoughtlessly murdered. I want to tell Draco that we don’t have to go back and almost do, but my father’s face stops me. It pops up quickly as his reminder to not mess this up flourishes through my memory as well.

Swallowing thickly, I decide I’m done with my coffee.

“You alright?” Draco asks. I just nod.

He seems to take it and I rise to get dressed. It’s jeans and a warm sweater that I choose to wear, my suitcase transformed into a green backpack by Draco, who thought it’d be easier for travel.

I fiddle with my engagement ring as he checks a few things here and there. Once he’s done, he joins me by my side, lacing his fingers through mine and gripping my hand comfortingly.

For a second, I glance around the cabin we’d spent the last few days in. It had saved us from the wrath of Voldermort, flamed a line of fire that had long been ignited between the two of us, and gave me the push I needed to step-up and take over my role in all of this. More wonderful things had happened in the short time we’d been here that all of the weeks we had been living at Malfoy Manor. I’m sad to leave and the way Draco lets out a rumbling sigh through his nose makes me think he is as well.

I feel him squeeze my hand and see, out of the corner of my eye, as he raises his wand. I slam my eyes shut just before the rush and pressure of being drawn down a thin tube drowns me.