"I can’t escape this now, unless you show me how."
— "Demons" by Imagine Dragons
The day of the wedding arrived all too quickly for Evelyn Beauregard. What should have been the happiest day of her life felt like walking into a cage, with no key in sight. The grand Beauregard Manor was a flurry of activity as house-elves hurried to complete last-minute preparations, and family members gathered in the spacious drawing room, their excited chatter filling the air.
Evelyn, however, felt detached from it all. She stood in front of a full-length mirror in her childhood bedroom, staring at the reflection of a woman she barely recognized. The gown was beautiful—ivory silk with delicate lace detailing—but it felt heavy, oppressive. It wasn’t just the weight of the fabric but the enormity of what it represented.
Her mother, Amelia, fussed over her daughter’s veil, trying to coax a smile from her. “You look stunning, darling,” she said softly, her eyes filled with emotion. “Draco will be speechless when he sees you.”
Evelyn forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She had barely spoken to Draco since learning of the engagement. Every fiber of her being recoiled at the thought of him. How could she marry someone who had caused her so much pain?
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and her father, Charles, entered the room. His stern expression softened slightly when he saw her. “Evelyn, it’s time.”
Amelia stepped back, tears glistening in her eyes as she admired her daughter. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride.”
Evelyn felt her stomach churn. She wasn’t ready for this—she never would be. But there was no escape now. The contract was signed, the vows were about to be spoken, and her fate was sealed.
She took a deep breath and nodded, trying to steel herself for what lay ahead. Her father offered her his arm, and she took it, her heart pounding as they made their way out of the room and down the grand staircase.
The ceremony was being held in the manor’s ornate ballroom, the same room where countless Beauregard weddings had taken place over the centuries. The space was filled with guests, many of whom Evelyn barely recognized—old family friends, business associates, and members of the wizarding elite. She could feel their eyes on her as she walked down the aisle, their whispers barely masked behind polite smiles.
At the end of the aisle stood Draco Malfoy, looking every bit the aristocratic groom in his tailored black robes. His silver-blond hair was neatly combed, and his expression was carefully controlled, though Evelyn could see the tension in his jaw. He watched her intently, his gaze never wavering.
Evelyn forced herself to meet his eyes as she approached, searching for any sign of the boy she had known at Hogwarts. But Draco was inscrutable, his emotions hidden behind a mask of cold determination.
As she reached the altar, her father handed her over to Draco, who took her hand with a firmness that made her heart clench. His touch was cool, his grip unyielding, and Evelyn felt a shiver run down her spine. She had no choice but to stand beside him, to play the role of the dutiful bride.
The officiant, an old family friend of the Malfoys, began the ceremony, his deep voice echoing through the hall. The words washed over Evelyn like a wave, drowning out her thoughts. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be real.
But it was.
“I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take thee, Evelyn Rose Beauregard, to be my wedded wife…” Draco’s voice was steady, though Evelyn could hear the strain beneath the surface.
