FicWad

They stood under Province's generous sun. Whitestone pave led them between olive trees, towards big gates. Air was saturated with heated earth and grapes. A hot breeze carried the sound of crickets.

Tempels' led towards the house with a confident pace while Draco unbuttoned his shirt and shadowed his face from the burning sun. Between bushes of lavender and August, sun-kissed white roses followed a small path. On its right, there was a gazebo with white curtains, a powder blue table, and chairs, on the left side - a small pond with water-lilies, where lone white swan swam gracefully.

Even from the first glance, the house was calling Elvein's name, and ethereal father and daughter were melting in the landscape. While Draco, dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit, was clearly out of space in French romance. He shook the honey-colored ground from his shoes and entered the house.

"Welcome home, Miss." Wrinkled elf greeted them with a huge smile and a table covered with food.

"Thank you, Petty." Father and daughter spoke in unison.

"I will get ready for dinner." Said Elvein and went upstairs.

Draco was left in the kitchen with Mr. Tempels, who cleaned a dusty wine bottle and poured two glasses. Draco took one of them and waited for the host's toast.

"You gifted my daughter with new life, Mr. Malfoy. Did something I was not capable of. My family is forever in your debt."

"Just Draco." Corrected the young man, who felt very uncomfortable.

"Cheers to you, son." Mr. Tempels lifted his glass.

Savouring drink cooled Malfoy's throat. However, all his thoughts were on the upper floors, with Elvein. He was restraining himself not to run up, searching for her.

"She must be taking a bath." Elvein's father read his mind. "You might want to take off your jacket. This climate is much different than London's."

Malfoy just noticed that his forehead was covered in beads of sweat. Switching his gaze from the ceiling, he nodded and took his jacket off.

"I did not know your ancestors were French."

"My Great grandfather. Though, the only French thing in me is this estate."

"Strange, you did not send Elvein to Beauxbaton." Draco clung to this conversation to switch his attention.

"The thing is, you might not tell, but Elvein and I have very much in common, not physically, obviously." A sad smile spread across the old man's face. "When I was just a child, my family lived in London. So, I was sent to Hogwarts. There I have spent the most careless and happiest years of my life. I wanted Elvein to experience the same bliss."

"Mr. Tempels-"

"Simply Bartholomew." Corrected him, Mr. Tempels.

"Bartholomew, can I ask about Elvein's mother?"

"I understand, son. For months you have not left her side, not even once seeing her mother. Obviously, you are curious if she is alive. Yes, she is, and quite healthy as well, if I am not mistaken. As you have already guessed, she is Veela. In my opinion, they are not very fond of family life. I am not talking about every single one of them, of course. But I think no one will judge me if I say that Veelas standout with a peculiar love of freedom. Add to that magical society's equivocal attitude towards them." He sighed heavily. "She left us when Elvein was just three. Since then, her motherhood has been occasional letters, and my daughter forgot how to smile. We have moved here." Bartholomew's eyes scanned the house. "Here, I raised my only child and grapes' nectar we are enjoying right now."

Draco once again answered with a simple nod.

"With your permission." Said Malfoy and went upstairs.

"Third floor. The last room on the left." signaled Mr. Tempels and nested himself in a wicker chair.

...

Large windows were overlooking a vineyard. Yellow sunbeams poured in the room, generously encircling Elvein, who sat on the bed. Her eyes bore into the lavender bouquet placed on the window. Noticing Draco, she hugged the buttoned-up white robe even closer. Another indicator of how deep the abyss between those two has become.

The young man sat on the chair in front of her and asked:

"How are you feeling?"

She just shrugged. Malfoy tried touching her hand, but the girl quickly hid her fingers away.

"Tell me what to do." He did not even try to hide the desperation soaking his voice.

"Draco, I am forever grateful to you. What you have done for me-"

"Stop it! You are the one who saved me."

"No." She was already whispering. "Because of me, you were almost murdered. Twice."

"Elvein!"

"Please, don't argue with me. I am grateful to you."

"I don't want gratitude. I need your love."

"And if I am not capable of love anymore?"

"I will wait. As long as you need."

Desperation and unshed tears swam in her eyes.

"Draco, you have no idea what happened there. What I did-"

"I can guess. But I do not care! It was my fault. I should have reached you faster."

"You do not understand." She could not hold his gaze anymore. Malfoy silenced her with a raised hand.

"I will never ask what was happening in that hell. I will never think of it. Whenever and if ever you are ready, I will listen to you, will understand you, and justify you. No matter what, I will justify you."

"Even if you will, I would not be able to forgive myself." She said and rose to her feet. "I will get dressed and come downstairs. Please, have dinner with us."

Obvious sign for him to leave her room. Draco returned to Bartholomew. Soon, dressed in a lavender dress, Elvein descended the stairs. Dinner went into talks about polite nonsense. Same as the next day. And the next. Every day, Draco visited Tempels' trying to lighten her up. Told her about his childhood, about his silly and shameful adventures in Hogwarts. Elvein did not change. On the contrary, Draco sensed the distance between them grew even more prominent.

One evening, he could not restrain himself and told her:

"You've started it again."

"What do you mean?" Elvein sat at the pond with water lilies, her fingers lightly scraping the calm water surface.

"Repressing your emotions."

"I can't otherwise."

"Tell me why?"

Elvein shook her head.

"Elvein, I can't do it anymore. Since the day I knew you, real Elvein, not this empty shell... last night in Hogwarts... I am not asking you to do what you can't. I am asking, don't hide from me. Tell me, what's on your mind?"

"He's still there, Draco. In that horrible room, rotting alone." Her tears were already quivering water. "I killed him and left him there."

"Elvein, we were just pawns in his game. He made you make this, not leaving your choice-"

"When a mother kills to defend her child, does that save her from being a murderer?"

She stood up and left him.