Malfoy was tossing in bed. Face tucked in the pillow, his breathing was ragged. Fists were turning white by grabbing bed sheets. His gaze searched emerald eyes, fingers roaming on pale skin, breathing her scent deeply. Her breath - aroma of freshly split apple. His teeth gently scraped and bit on the porcelain skin of her neck, as if sucking on light lavender pastilles. Her tiny moans of pleasure, with the hint of a pain - music to his ears. Maybe, he should take it slower. Maybe, he must be a little more gentle. Maybe, he should be more patient. He will. But later. Just a bit later. But now, he can't stop. He can't slow down. He can't think of anything else. Just let him have this moment a little longer. Just for several seconds more. He must have those seconds of ecstasy. He needs it. He deserved them, didn't he? He was with Elvein. Around her, inside her. Elvein, as an obedient cat, was silent, going with her master's every dream and desire, while Draco held her neck in his tensed fingers. Elvein belonged to him. She was his. His.
"Mine!" He yelled out in the moment of ecstasy and opened his eyes.
His heart was beating fast, body sweaty and flushed. Draco smashed the fist on the damp bedsheets and whipped his forehead.
Each night, he dreamed of Elvein. Every next specter was more sharp and demanding. Every minute spent without her - pain, anxiety, jealousy, and anger. Even now, he caught himself checking the clock, counting the hours till their meeting. There was no point in denial. His obsession was going out of control. This was turning into madness. Every second of solitude was spent recalling that night spent with Elvein. It was imprinted in his mind so deeply, that he could recall every moment of that bliss, reconstruct the whole act with the accuracy of each second, every small noise, every tiny movement. But he could not recall her face during the act of that bliss and madness. No matter how hard he tried, he could not. Why?
He set up, wiped his sweaty face, and decided not to visit Tempels today.
"She needs peace." He reminded himself after a long morning routine and took the Daily Prophet.
"Another dementors' attack on British magical society..." Rita Skeeter was not hastening whiplike words for the Ministry of Magic.
Though he managed to pass some time, Malfoy failed to understand the content.
At 6 o'clock, he was already pacing the yard.
"Elvein asked me to leave her alone. To give her some time. She will calm down, will miss me, and tomorrow, her mood will improve drastically." He muttered under his nose, listening to his own footsteps on the rocky pathway.
At 8 o'clock, he was going around the house. Counting his steps:
"If I'll make three rounds around Quidditch stadium, I'll receive Elvein's letter."
Soon, he switched on running.
It was past 10 o'clock when he ran towards his room.
"First time in months, I did not show up. Of course, Elvein is worried. She will have written me a letter. For sure!" Convincing himself, he was searching the desk for letters. He found none. Malfoy screamed at the house-elf: "Where did you put my letter?!"
The poor creature kept convincing him for 15 minutes that not a single owl had returned since morning.
Horror-stricken Malfoy helplessly descended on the chair. After all, they have been through, has not Elvein wondered what happened to him? Did she not care at all? Did she try to forgo him that easily?! That was not happening! Only through dead Draco's body! So familiar anger burned his chest and stomach. He pathed gates with firm steps, immediately transgressing to Chateau Tempels.
Flames were pouring from his eyes when Bartholomew caught his arm. It looks like the host was calling for him while Draco already held the door handle.
"Son, is everything all right?"
"Good evening. Where's Elvein?"
Draco froze. He checked his watch to discover it was already midnight.
"Let's sit down. Honestly speaking, I myself like to have a glass or two at a late hour." Mr. Tempels, dressed in pajamas and robe, gently tugged Malfoy's arm and led him to the living room. "I believe, Elvein has explained, why I let her drink my wine. Take it." Draco chugged the whole glass without a single word. Bartholomew quickly poured him a second one.
"Son, I understand you more than you think. I have been in your shoes. I have pathed the same roads. Elvein does everything she can to drop a boundary between herself and her mother, but no matter her attempts, she can't run from herself. I did not think half-blood would have so much Veela in her. But it's a fact! She is not even 20, and her aura is so powerful! You are standing on a slippery path. I know how hard it is, but when you try to drink water from your palm, the harder you'll squeeze your fingers, the less water you'll get. You have to overpower your own self! There is no other way around."
Bartholomew's advice calmed him as his wine. He sat quietly for some time, then admitted:
"I don't know what to do anymore. I struggle for control."
"You have no idea how much I want you to succeed as a couple." Mr. Tempels sighed and poured himself another glass. He talked slowly, calmly. "You have no easy road ahead. But do you know what gives me hope? Elvein told me about your deal. I admit, at first, I found it silly, but then I gave it a thought. There is no foundation more solid than truth. No matter what, do not try to deceive her." Bartholomew descended in his seat and continued with a sleepy voice. "I was so scared of losing Viviann that I tried to manipulate her. I lied to her. Sooner or later, everything sees the light. That's how I've lost my Viviann."
Draco's already pale face turned into chalk. If Bartholomew was not so tired, he would have noticed that, but his eyes were already too heavy, and soon, he was sleeping in the chair.
Draco stood up, not noticing how he reached Elvein's room. He came to his senses only after he sat in front of a sleeping female. The chair squeaked, and in seconds, a couple of emeralds shone on him.
Malfoy sat quietly. Thinking, he will tell her everything, right here, right now. He'll come clean, about Demian, about his obsession. She will listen to him, and they together will find the solution.
"Is everything all right? You did not show up today; I was worried. Family owl hurt wing, I was not able to write to you."
Silence. The worried girl sat on the bed; bijou bare feet touched the floor. An almost transparent white nightgown could not hide her body shining in the full moon's light. She looked like a mallet statue. Sleep pouted her already full lips. With dilated pupils, she was learning the young man's face. Her breath was accelerating.
"Draco, you're scaring me."
"Marry me, Elvein."
From so much beauty, Draco struggled to breathe. He could not think of anything else. This was his Elvein. His! His! So pure, so innocent. He wanted to cover her with his own body, from everything and everyone. So only he would look at her, only he would love her. He imagined her in a white dress, walking down the aisle beside him. Malfoy Maner's mistress, Elvein, rounded with his child. Then, with a baby cradled to her full breast. Those thoughts were twisting in his head so quickly that he wanted to cry. In return, he expected anything except the fear he saw on her face.
"Draco, I ... What good is a wife, which will turn into your prison cell? I have shuttered Draco. I will never be someone you knew in Hogwarts." Tears poured down from her closed eyes. "I am going mad, Draco. I feel a non-existent bond. I feel Demian, who's dead. First, I thought his ghost was haunting me. Then, my own voice woke me up. I stood in the middle of the garden, calling for him. I started suppressing emotions and thought of it as a solution. Then, I found out I had no other emotion left but anger. Sooner or later, I will be admitted to St. Mungo's and will never be able to leave it. I am so grateful to you, Draco. I will never be able to repay you for what you have done for me. But I am not capable of love anymore. That part of me just shattered."
"That's a lie. You do love me, you just-"
"Draco, you're not listening to me."
"Elvein, I do know you. What Ekrizdis did to you, to us, is a huge stress, which is not easy to overcome. But you are the embodiment of love on the earth. It's impossible for you not to love... it's just... just-" Draco did not know what he was saying. "You are not capable of anger. It's... you're just-"
"He's alive! Elvein, he is alive! Somehow he survived and still is in that bloody castle!"
Elvein's face changed.
"What did you say?"
"He is alive." Draco hung his head, whispering.
"I was afraid. Scared that-"
"That what?!" He could not recognize Elvein anymore. Nothing was left from the tender creature. Her hair was swinging in the air like Medusa Gorgon, blue flames in her eyes. She stood from the bed, shining with a strange light. Malfoy took a step back. She was a scary sight. "That what?! That I will fall in stupor once again?! That I will lose my mind?! Am I sane now?!"
Her voice was unearthly, sounding like a thousand echos. Draco took several more steps back.
"Or you have not even thought about that?! Scared of me leaving. Have I not proven my loyalty to you?!" She stopped abruptly, understanding something. "You "have done everything that needed to be done," right? Same as my letter was burning in the fireplace. You chose me to be eaten with a sense of guilt than even allow a single chance of losing me."
"Evein, stop! This is not you! I know you! This... this, this-"
"Draco, did you love me or your dream about me? Out of my way."
"No! You are not leaving! No! I am not letting you! You are mine!" The last words were halfway out when he bit down on his knuckles.
A bitter smile disappeared from Elvein's face, replaced by rage. Draco was horrified. Malfoy was thrown at the wall with a single move of her hand. Elvein, covered with blue flames, moved down the stairs with heavy steps. When she was downstairs, her eyes fell on Bartholomew's sleeping frame. Her flames died down, but Malfoy went down running.
"Stop! You are right! I made a stupid mistake! I was scared! I can't lose you! Evein, I love you! This will pass. You will be back to yourself soon!"
Flames came back. She took off the hairpin and dropped it. Without a single word, she pointed her finger at Draco, and in seconds, stupefied Malfoy fell motionless. She turned towards Bartholomew, who had already stood up.
"Father, please, forgive me if you can." She said and disappeared.
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