The Beginning

 

She remembers how it all began…

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Somewhere, something ugly crawled its way up her spine. Maybe it was from her heart, or maybe it was from her conscience. She knew why it was there and therefore, she knew it didn’t originate from her heart. It came from her conscience. The ugly feeling was what many called guilt - the feeling that never left you alone and always kept you up at night, specifically in the case of Death Eaters (except Voldemort and Bellatrix) where they were sent to prison in Azkaban for life. However, she wasn’t a Death Eater who had killed wizards and witches on the battlefield. In her case, she was feeling guilty because of what she was doing to her husband.

Her husband was one of her childhood best friends. Everyone expected them to marry. Everyone wanted them to. And so they did. But that made it sound like a marriage of expectations when it wasn’t. They were dating and at one stage, they loved each other. Then followed the inevitable proposal, engagement and finally marriage, which to everyone, was to be expected. Their first days as a married couple were full of bliss.

She remembered how every morning she would wake up and he’d already be up, watching her sleep. She didn’t know why he would do that because she always looked terrible getting out of bed every morning (twenty or so years prior of waking up every day and seeing her hideous reflection in the mirror told her that). She remembered when he’d come home from his duties as an Auror and spent dinner together before sitting in front of the television (she found it ironic how wizards could still dislike Muggles and yet, every single wizarding home now owned a Muggle television), which somehow made the couple move from the couch to the bedroom. Now that she was older, she could try and recall those times but they flitted before her eyes in a hazed blur.

Some memories she had of him weren’t blurred and they, while weren’t the most blissful (Duh!), were the most fun and adventurous moments in her life. It was before they started dating and they were just childhood friends along with Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived (he actually lived not once, but several times when the odds weren’t in his favour and it looked like he was going to die). Their days at Hogwarts with her going on dangerous adventures against Voldemort had made the three inseparable during school. Now it was hard to recognise her friend who used to rely on her for information about Nicholas Flamel, the Chamber of Secrets, the Half-Blood Prince and Hocruxes. While many women still loved him and would do anything to get the chance to be within a metre of his presence, he had been accurately labelled as a ‘party animal’ by the tabloids that stalked the rich and famous.

She and her husband were also famous. Harry, Ron and she were branded ‘The Golden Trio’. She was more specifically called ‘the brains’ which suited her role because she was the brains of the Golden Trio. They were famous for saving the world and ridding the Earth of Voldemort, a man (she didn’t know if he could be called a man because he had put parts of his body into objects and spilt his soul several times. Maybe a monster would have described him better) who hated those with no pure wizarding blood in their veins (another thing she found ironic because he wasn’t pure-blood himself).

During times when darkness was consuming the world, the man across from her right now was a part of the darkness and had the Dark Mark tattooed on his arm (it wasn’t like he wasn’t affected. Malfoy admitted he had nightmares about Voldemort living in Malfoy Manor. This brought a smile to her face because: a)it was a blow to his ego and pride and b)he was sharing this information with her). Despite what he had done in the war and what side he was on, he was one of those fortunate (in her opinion, it was more unfortunate) people who the tabloids followed. Throwing his past out of the window and putting his current appearance and wealth together, there was a reason why there were many women who would do anything to snatch a date with the rich CEO. While his current status relationship was married; this didn’t deter women (fans was a better word because they literally idolised him and the ground he walked on) from wanting him. Perhaps it was because it was obvious that he was in an arranged marriage.

Before his marriage, he had been characterised as ‘The Ultimate Playboy’. Like Harry, he was a party animal. Unlike him, however, he liked getting women involved and breaking their hearts. He led what most would describe as ‘the perfect bachelor life’. He seemed to love being a bachelor and his sudden news of settling down shocked everyone (including herself and many of her friends who gushed about him in Hogwarts and even now). Besides he was a Malfoy (as he proudly stated on more than a few occasions and boasted about his name like it was something good), and Malfoys were known for being quite manipulating and heartless. It wouldn’t come to anyone’s surprise if he had multiple mistresses he kept on the side because he couldn’t stand his wife. He was a philanderer, enough said.

It would, however, come to everyone’s surprise if she was the mistress. The problem was, she thought as she frowned and caressed his cheek with one hand while he was sleeping, he didn’t have multiple mistresses. (Before they had crossed paths, he had multiple mistresses. But as they spent more time together and less with their partners, she found out that he cut all connections to the other ladies and she was the only one who kept him company in his office and his villa.) She was the only one he was having an affair with. This could only mean intense feelings from his side. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you saw the situation), she felt the same.

It was wrong because they were being unfaithful to their respective spouses. Both of them were married – and not to each other. She didn’t know about him but the ring that adorned her left hand, no longer felt special like it used to. She felt as though it was just a ring. It didn’t signify her commitment, her loyalty or her love towards her husband. It used to, but it didn’t any longer.

Sometimes, looking back, she cringed. Of course she and her lover (she didn’t think there was a word invented for mistress, but for a lady) didn’t just do the deed. They also talked. Sometimes he would bring up the subject of how she could’ve liked the ‘Weasel’ (a nickname that used to irk her but now she called her husband the ‘Weasel’ in her lover’s presence as well) back in Hogwarts. When they used to go to the same school and attend the same classes, she didn’t see the problem with Ron. Looking back she realised Malfoy was right. She was blind, but he had eyes and he removed the veil that covered her eyes. She saw what he saw in her husband.

Her husband had red hair, which disgusted her (she used to think differently) because it reminded her of Prince William and she wasn’t fond of a bald head. He had freckles. She had freckles as well, but his were red. It reminded her of blood and nightmares from the War surfaced the next night after she spent half an hour staring at his face. He was lanky and had developed something of a potbelly. When they were both making love (she thought of it as sex now), she found the bulge of puppy fat that protruded from his stomach sickening. Malfoy (it was only between moans and him making her beg, that she called him by his first name), on the other hand, had blonde hair. She always found that blonde guys had good features. He didn’t have any freckles. In fact his skin was perfect (and grudgingly, she gritted her teeth and admitted that not only was his skin better than hers, so was his hair). He was built and had muscle. His body was of a Greek god. He worked out frequently.

But during the first stage of her marriage, she didn’t find her husband unattractive. She was lovesick. But like how women could disregard his past and his relationship status for Malfoy, women could do the same for Ron. Slowly those nights they spent lounging on the couch and having romantic candlelit dinners turned into her dozing off at the dinner table, waiting for him to come back home. Gradually, he became angrier whenever he saw her. She thought it was stress from work. The truth was that he didn’t love her any longer. He had sought company elsewhere. She didn’t want to admit it because reality was harsh, and the reality was that her husband was no longer the same person she knew from when she was a child and he didn’t love her any longer. (Earlier on, she clung onto the hope and if he didn’t love her, he just didn’t show it. Even if he did, he loved fame more.)

It was only a matter of time before she grew tired and sick of waiting for him to come all night. And when he did come home, his clothes and his hair were messy and there was a feminine scent coming from his clothes that was most definitely not hers. It was only a matter of time before reporters spotted him at clubs and walking down the streets with two or three girls on his arms, all checking into a motel room for the night. They reported it straight away. In fact it made the front page of The Daily Prophet. It was sickening to see these articles and see those pictures of Ron walking down the street with random sluts.

She didn’t remember how many times, but she felt like a fool anyway. She felt like a naïve fool for wasting too many tears on him. Looking back she realised that despite everyone’s expectations of the two spending their life together, he was the wrong choice from the start. All her life she had prided herself in her intelligence. She wasn’t naturally pretty like models, some would say she was bossy, she didn’t have a knack for sports; intelligence was her only saving virtue. She couldn’t believe that she had been such a fool to not know.

She remembered meeting Malfoy for the first time in so many years since their graduation. She remembered being in a bar with barely any lights and she remembered Malfoy approaching her and being his usual ass-y self. Their meetings turned into a routine. They talked throughout the night in the bar. Somewhere along the way he found a hooker to spend the night with and bid her goodbye before she left the bar. At some stage, she went to the bar not for the drinks, not for the atmosphere and not for the people, but for him.

The first time they had sex was in the dimly lit corridor of the bar which led to a secret hidden exit. They were both drunk but she was in a right enough state of mind to know what she was doing was wrong and that he was so good at f*cking someone – she didn’t believe it was possible until that night. Despite the great sex she had with Ron in the early stages of their marriage, Malfoy took things to another level. Afterwards, when they were sure that they were both in their right state of mind, they mutually agreed that what happened was a one-off thing and was never going to happen again. It was a mistake.

It happened a second time. She didn’t do anything. It was him who had been waiting for her and pushed her into the men’s toilet (he put an out-of-order sign on the toilet door so that no one would interrupt) before assaulting her lips and pushing her to the sinks before making her hop on the cold counter and pressing her back into the mirror. The aftermath of that, they both agreed was a thing of the moment. They let it slip by. They both made sure there wasn’t going to be a ‘next time’.

There was a ‘next time’ almost a year after the first time they met at the bar. This time it had been her. They went to the back of the bar where there were private rooms. She had been the one to pull him by the collar of his jacket but he had been the one to lead her to the rooms (she didn’t know they existed). He had been the one to push her to the wall and trap her hands. She had been the one to wrap her legs around his waist and somehow he had led them to the bed. They decided what they were doing could not be ignored. They tried avoiding each other at first and she stopped coming to the bar.

It was purely coincidence that both were invited to a charity event for elves and their rights. They saw each other from the room and afterwards it had been an eager ride to get away from the event and their dates and into each other’s arms as fast as possible. After that, he told her not to deny what was inevitable and she agreed because he made her feel better than Ron ever did. He slowly arranged meetings for her in his office, in his bedroom, at a cheap motel which led to afternoons and nights of both feeling sexually contented.

She tore her eyes off Malfoy and looked over to the digital clock (another Muggle invention that he said was awfully useful and insisted that the inventor was wizard and not Muggle) showed that it was almost time for her to get ready for a girls’ night. Slowly her hand made its way down to his arm which was currently wrapped around her waist, clutching her preciously as if she was fine china, and tried to take the arm off her waist. She needed to get dressed and showered if she wanted to look (and she supposed smelled) presentable. His arm tightened around her waist instinctively. Without opening his eyes, he groaned into his pillow, “I know you have to go but just another five more minutes.”

His voice was groggy (and yet sexy) and she liked his voice like that. She thought that even though she rushed and got up now, he wouldn’t be very happy. Maybe she should stay in for a few more minutes. She supposed that she could be late today for girls’ night, because she knew that when she said she was going to have a shower, he was going to have one as well.

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