Waiting | Lucius Malfoy

Chapter Thirty-Eight | I Do

"Hi," she whispered, taking in the sight of him in his immaculate robes. His hair was longer than when she'd seen him last.

They stood silently, her standing behind him with his back to her, only visible to him over his shoulder in the mirror. He hadn't turned around, instead, they stood taking each other in as if they were each surprised to see the other.

"I didn't think you'd come. Nobody has seen you in months, G."

"Well, here I am." She didn't even fight Draco on his use of the nickname. It wasn't the time for that. She'd barely managed to keep it together as she'd apparated to the venue and she was trying her hardest to maintain her composure.

"You're a bit late, but I'll forgive you. You look nice, have you changed your hair?" He smiled nervously back at her in the reflection of the mirror, before turning to face her.

"I know it's your big day, but I needed to clear the air. Before everything that comes next."

"What comes next? What are you talking about?"

"Your father has asked me to marry him." She took a deep breath. "I've decided that I'm going to accept."

"You've got to be joking."

"Draco, I-"

"This cannot be happening. I truly thought this was some mental breakdown you were having. But you really want to be with him?" She nodded sheepishly. "I've spoken to my mother and she's filled me in. You're psychotic if you think this is going to end well."

"Your mother has the right intentions. She's looking out for you. For us, really. But she doesn't know the full story, it's-"

"No, I don't want to hear it."

"Draco! Please, listen to me." She cried, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"You ended up in St. Mungo's because of him, G. You've not left the house in months. He's not good for you, can't you see that?"

"It wasn't his fault, Draco. It was the magic and-"

"I loved you, you know. I honestly did. You can villanise me all you want and I probably deserve it, but I loved you."

"I know you did-"

"Was being with me so fucking hard, Guinevere?" His voice boomed through the room and her mouth felt tight, as though someone had cast a silencing charm on her lips. "You act as though you were doing a stint in Azkaban by being my girlfriend. But we loved each other, didn't we?"

"That's not what this means. I'm not saying I never loved you, Draco. I'm saying that we never loved each other the way that we ought to have," Guinevere reasoned, her voice quiet.

"True, but that wasn't all, was it? You were just as fucked up by all this as I was."

"That doesn't matter. You knew how unhappy I was. You let me stay in our relationship for years and let me lose myself. I wasn't the same girl you fell in love with Draco and you knew that. We both did."

"And how is that my fault? How is it my fault that you had some fucked up bond with my father that I couldn't compete with?"

"Do you want me to tell you that I want to be with you, is that it? That's not what's best for either of us and you know it."

"But my father, Guinevere?" His voice cracked, straining with the severity of his tone. "I have to watch you play house with my own blood?"

"I love him, Draco. I know you don't want to hear it, but I do. I can't think of anyone else that I'd want to spend the rest of my life with now. Why should I have to ignore that?"