Tie The Knot

Pansy reentered the dining hall and swiftly took her seat, not caring to look at Draco. This stubbornness persisted throughout the entire meal. For the first part she sat in silence, the odd flicker of her dark eyes to Astoria. Sour grapes was all she could taste. There was light vegetable and turkey soup before her that the lady always insisted upon having, but all that Pansy could taste was sour grapes.

She sensed Draco wasn't staying with Astoria out of happiness, more obligation. If Astoria truly was pleasuring him, meeting his needs, making him wear a genuine smile as opposed to the well rehearsed mask her wore then why did he touch her? Why did Draco not look her in the eyes but fall into her eyes? Why was it Mr Malfoy felt the ability to stroke her body, twist her hair as though he were a lifelong lover if Astoria was the love of his life? Of course she wasn't. He was staying out of obligation or to protect himself. Did Astoria have a secret weapon against him? Or was this the daddy's boy mind play returning to the surface. Did Draco not want to disappoint Lucius?

It didn't take long for Satan to start blabbering on about the wedding. First it was the flowers, followed by braids maids then the date. Right one Pansy didn't really care, all her energy had slipped from her as Draco had fell through her fingertips moments ago.

Roses. Lily's. Sunflowers. Carnations. Orchids. Daffodils. Heck why not have a freaking Christmas Tree I don't give a dam about the flowers you stupid B**** was what Pansy wanted to say. Of course that wouldn't do well for upholding Alexander's pure blood status. Astoria would no doubt look to Draco horrified, wait for him to defend her and when he did - but only because she asked him to - she'd drag Isadora by the hair out of the manor and apparate away.

Instead Pansy smiled, asjusted the napkin in her lap then stared pug-like at Astoria. 'Pink will be perfect for the bridge maids. It'll go with both Allyson and Francesca's blonde hair but compliment Anastasia's dark locks too. As for the date.' She paused dramatically, reaching for the red wine she loved so much. 'You couldn't have chosen a better plan.' She sipped the wine.


Alexander knew his Mother. He knew his Mother a lot more than his father knew her, heck he probably knew more of her body than even his Dad... Unfortunately. One thing was telling him his Mother was acting differently. To anyone who didn't know her well her response to Astoria would seem normal. It was well delivered, her tone was pitch perfect but the sip of the wine gave her away.

Why was his Mother uncomfortable about the situation? Pansy had taken the wine to hide behind her lies. It was her comfort blanket, which seemed odd. It was Pansy's idea this whole shabang, or at least that's the way it seemed given her and Draco had spoken in private. Or did this have something to do with Draco?

Alexander's dark eyes flashed across Mr Malfoy. The man before him had moments ago had his hands trace across the woman who'd raised him. His lined fingers, his banded ring finger, had lightly fondled with a brunette spandril. Was that why his Mother lied to Astoria? Unless it was nerves, the wine glass? Either way Pansy was hiding something and after the scene the Slytherin had witness Alexander would bet his entire Gringotts vault and inheritance of Nott Manor that Draco was the cause for his Mothers discomfort. Not that he felt sorry for his Mother, she brought it on herself.

'What do you think, Isadora?' Alexander asked, turning his eyes into his newly discovered fiancé. Not that he really cared what she thought all he wanted right now was to take any attention from Pansy, give her time to recovery. Alexander had his Mother's back. A son always had their Mother's back.

The Malfoys shared the same gaze. That unyielding silver was worn by both father and daughter and as they looked at each other across the bountiful flower arrangements and flickering candles a challenge was presented to both of them, by both of them. Who was going to walk out first? That was the question. Isadora lifted her eyebrow an imperceptible amount, daring him to do it. Draco mirrored her, though given her already fragile temper she was more likely to give in to his subtle taunts by far. Draco masked his amusement with his wine. Isadora kept her peace, ignoring the desire to throw hers at him and then perhaps the carafe at her mother. Then, only then, would she walk out.

The cold war that had sprung up was as pitiful as it came and the young woman mourned for a time when she wouldn’t have noticed because she was younger, maddeningly in love with the lives her parents led. Things had changed – big time. They weren’t a family anymore. In fact, if they got their way, she wouldn’t even be part of the shambles anymore. No, she’d be a part of the House of Nott and if the initial thoughts that had weighed on her mind didn’t crucify her enough then that consideration did and she choked briefly on her wine, drinking it with a little more force to mask the sound. She put the glass down and picked up her cutlery once more.

“What I think is of no consequence,” Isadora retorted petulantly when Alexander addressed her. “Because it’s not as though it’s my life, here, that’s being bartered with across dinner.”

“Isadora,” Draco murmured warningly. She flashed her gaze up to him and he buttoned his lip, averting his eyes.

“Well then,” Astoria shifted primly in her seat. “What would you like then, sweetheart?”

Faced with that opportunity, Isadora found she had nothing to contribute anyway. She felt like saying ‘I don’t want to marry at all, actually’ but that went by the wayside. She sat up a little, squaring her shoulders as she met her mother’s gaze strength for unwavering strength. Unlike Draco who knew when Isadora’s temper was beginning to get the better of her, Astoria was staunchly ignorant and stared at her daughter with one raised brow, challenging her to assert her authority on her wedding.

“To choose for myself,” she said simply. “If that’s the way it’s going to be then I want-”

“Some more wine,” Draco offered with sublime comedic timing, topping up both his wife and daughter’s glasses.

“No, father. I want to be able to-”

“Have dessert,” Draco added, looking over at the House Elves who shot him dubious looks. “I’m thinking mille feuille.”

“Think on, Draco,” Astoria snipped at him. “And you, young lady,” Astoria’s fingers curled into her palm, thwarting her desire to smack Isadora across the cheek. “Grow up,” she hissed instead.

Isadora’s face reddened beyond recognition. From alabaster her skin turned to pink, to scarlet and then to a dark, deep burgundy not unlike the colour of the wine. At this point, Astoria looked as though she was thinking about sucking back and broker some sort of compromise. However, before Isadora could explode, Astoria interjected, perhaps in the hope to make her daughter implode instead.

“There aren’t very many options for you, my dear,” Astoria admitted across the dinner table for all and sundry to hear. “I mean, with poor looks such as yours, we are lucky we found someone to consider marrying you at all. You should be grateful-”

“Grateful?!” She exclaimed, throwing down her cutlery. The clamour echoed around the room. “How dare you? If I am not wanted then so be it.” The napkin she’d put across her lap went next. “I would rather be alone and content than be miserable and bound to someone for no good reason other than to save a pitiful line of birth from extinction. So, I am going to take myself off with my poor looks and thank my lucky stars no one wants me. Perhaps with a bit of luck Scorpius will have a swathe of little Half-Bloods who marry Weasleys. I think I’d call that justice.”

And with that, Isadora got up from her seat, folded her shawl, stuffing it roughly into her bag, and turned to the Notts whom she ever so slightly regretted insulting. It was not their fault though they would share blame in her mind for allowing the senselessness to even think to occur.

“Apologies, Mr and Mrs Nott, Alexander. The meal really was lovely. Company, however, was wanting. So if you’ll excuse me, I will be going, thank you.”

Then, she was back out through the French doors, making her way as smoothly as possible down towards the gates. Draco sat in his chair, gobsmacked, as though he’d been punched in face. Astoria could only look faintly insulted.

“To return,” Astoria broached after a moment. “Perhaps we could have it in the gardens, with an arch covered in the flowers and have pots interspersed with them to make it look as though it’s like a wave of colour. I think that would be lovely.”

Draco made a face at his wife, disbelief evident on his features. He sighed, picking up his glass of wine again and looked over at Alexander.

“She’ll come around, son,” he offered – not entirely sure if he sincerely believed it.

Alexander's eyes shot up, as did both Pansy's and Theodore's in turn. A pure blood child never spoke the way Isadora just spoke, they never with the rude tone about what their parents were doing. Sure Alexander had spoken that way too his Mother on occasion, but that was different, that was a private matter between Pansy and him. Thankfully Draco and Astoria addressed the awkwardness instantly. Granted they couldn't seem to control the situation greatly.

It didn't amuse Alexander. He knew exactly what Isadora was going to say, she'd addressed her concerns outside in the evening air. She knew he didn't want to marry, knew she wasn't keen on marrying him and it seemed Isadora wasn't shying away from her feelings. Alexander felt a pang of concern. He hadn't know about the wedding until that evening either but the idea had certainly suited him. The Slytherin would work at the Ministry, live in Hogsmede, see his wife on the weekends when she didn't have classes and be pleasured. Pleasured in ways his Father wouldn't. The imagine that had been painted in his imagination less than an hour ago was slowly being washed away by Isadora.

Pansy too didn't seem happy about Isadora's attitude. Granted she wanted to pat the girl on the back for speaking to her Mother as she did, the B****, but if she refused to marry Alexander what would that lead to? Alexander marrying a half blood, staining the Nott line or would he face a life in Azkaban. Theodore had managed to set Alexander up a job in the department of magical creatures - Being division. Would Alexander be denied his job? Forced to work as some petty sales assistant in Knockturn Alley for disobeying the law?

It was all dandy and fine or Isadora. She was still a student. Yes the laws still applied to them but if the Ministry started throwing studious Ravenclaws into Azkaban there would most certainly be uproar. After all, how did the ministry expect their citizens to find love and reproduce whilst their soul was being crushed in the walls of Azkaban?

Silence was momentarily cast over Isadora whilst Astoria chastised her. It looked as though the Mother had won, until...

All three Notts had risen from their seat just as Isadora had. For Pansy and Theodore the fact that Isadora was rudely leaving was most disappointing. None of them stopped Isadora leaving, they simply watched as the child vacated the building and headed down the lawn towards the gates.

Theodore had seated himself back down, feeling reassured that Isadora would come around when Astoria continued to babble on about wedding plans. Pansy, however, remained standing. Her eyes flicking furiously from Draco to Astoria.

'Alexander, go after Isadora.'

Alexander didn't need telling once. He took his napkin from his neck, dropped it loosely on the table and began to follow Isadora swiftly. Why on earth was she doing this? Sure he had been a bit shocked by the wedding at first but they were pure bloods. They held traditions. They were the jewels in wizarding culture. Did Isadora really think this would go away? Did she not realise who she was messing with? Pansy, Theodore, Draco, Astoria. All of them had been raised by death eaters, they'd acquired skills and ways that would ensure that they always got their way. Did she not see by walking away she was only making things worse for herself.
'Isadora. Isadora, wait!' Alexander called as she reached the gates.

Meanwhile Pansy was still firing daggers at Isadora and Draco.

'Mr Malfoy, the deal we spoke of earlier. I think you may wish to reconsider owing to the firework display your daughter just showed us.' No Draco. No flirtatious laugh or giggle. No polite conversation through gritted teeth with Astoria. Straight to business. 'Clearly Isadora will be work for Alexander, work he wont need owing to the fact he will be a new employee in the Ministry and has a career to pursue. If you don't want the Malfoy line tarnished, laughed at anymore you will think strongly about my offer'

Theodore was looking at his wife, somewhat confused, somewhat admirable. She had always been dominate, lavish and snobbish, a little too into Witch Weekly, but his wife was a force to be reckoned with. What was the offer she'd spoken of? Did she have some dirt on the Malfoys? Yes that would be it. Pansy always had dirt on someone, it's how she had become a master in the art of blackmail and getting what she wanted. Draco was stepping on dangerous territory.

There was a little, marginal bit of paternal pride in Draco Malfoy as he watched his daughter storm off down through the gardens. He drank greedily from his glass and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. He’d warned them both. His relationship might well have been strained with his daughter but at least he knew the warning signs of danger. Astoria knew either nothing or choice to ignore that knowledge and provocative statements that would have cowed another woman only served to incense their daughter and truly Draco wasn’t as sorry for what happened as much as he perhaps should have been.

“I think, really, you should let me have a fairer price. If anything, we’re ensuring that Alexander will never be bored.”

Boredom seemed to be the illness of all married Pureblood males. The difference between them was whether or not they deigned to act upon that boredom and take a mistress. Given how so uncooperative Isadora was at the thought of marriage in the first place, Draco didn’t particularly want to envisage the outcome of Alexander taking to another woman thereafter. He didn’t think he could stand the pain. It was probably a blessing and a curse that Isadora was proving already to be a handful.

“I’ll reconsider my decision, also,” Draco added after a moment, steadying his gaze upon Pansy, his lips curling at the sides a little. “But as it is, given that she has feelings … perhaps maybe Dora would be a little bit more malleable if we let her control what’s going on. She does have a fair point, love. It’s her life.”

“Draco she’s a child,” Astoria complained, getting to her feet.

Draco’s eyebrows rose. “Then if that’s the case, why are we sitting here fixing her to get married with the expectation of two heirs in as many years?” Astoria lowered herself back down into her seat. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, bringing his gaze back to Pansy. “Let’s let them pick. We’ll give them the means – flowers, venues, etcetera – but they are the ones getting married, not the four of us and perhaps they might even be able to find common ground in planning it out. What do you think?”

Darkened fingertips pulled back from the fizzing bars of the Nott gates. She scowled, as though it was the gate itself to blame and not the wards surrounding them. She brought her fingertips to her lips and closed her mouth around them as she looked up around the area, wondering how she could get out. Really she should have flooed. Nevertheless, she was determined to walk all of the way home if that was what it got to and then she’d have her grandparents pick her up because as much as she enjoyed Astoria’s belated third degree, she didn’t want it tonight.

She turned, dropping her hand to her side at Alexander’s call. She shook her head, squaring her shoulders back, flexing her hand roughly by her hip as she tried to figure out how she was going to get past the wards. She was a clever girl but sometimes passion overruled her head. When that happened she ended up with an ever so slightly charred hand and a mind to start crying. She didn’t always burn her hands but it was a fair analogy to the ridiculous her impulses provoked.

“What do you want?” She asked warily, lifting her hand to her eyes, inspecting it in the low light provided by one of the lamps hanging over them, draping its yellowy glow around the area. “I’m trying to leave. My dramatic exit was thwarted by wards, however.”

“Look,” she said, “I am sorry. It’s not you. I don’t want this. No one has asked me anything. So, I think rightly, I’m annoyed. This is my life – and yours too. Are you really going to let them orchestrate this or are you in that much of a dire position with the Ministry match makers that you need anyone? Are you sure you want this, let alone me?”

Was Draco being serious? He thought that Alexander was too expensive for Isadora? That lowering his price was a bargain because of how great Isadora was. It seemed to have slipped Draco that they were buying Alexander, sure they would lose Isadora in the process but it wasn't the Notts paying for Isadora to join their family it was the Malfoys.

'Come now, Draco. Lower the-' Pansy raised a hand, silencing her husband. She stared into Draco's eyes for a moment. He had said he'd rethink his offer. That was enough for Pansy for now, she would no doubt chase him up on his word but for now Pansy would do without Draco's chest to rest her head.

Sitting herself back down Pansy, once again, took a sip of her red wine. Draco made a fair point about having the children plan the wedding. Of course she had looked forward to it, being a pure blooded woman whose ultimate goal was to impress everyone around her.

'Alexander will be too busy to plan a wedding. He'll have started work in a month and will need to put all his efforts into that. I have no objection with Isadora helping us though.' Pansy stated to Astoria, her eyes glancing Draco's way every now and then.

'That is of course there is a wedding at all. Hopefully Alexander will be able to calm your daughter, Draco.'


Alexander stopped walking, it appeared Isadora hadn't managed to get past the gate. The grounds were sealed with magical enchantments so that only by the wand of the Notts could guests leave and enter, much like that of Hogwarts. The spells were placed for protection after Theodore's parents wee dragged to Azkaban. If the situation were to ever happen again the Notts could allow entry to the aurors, then prevent them leaving. A clever gimmick acquired from the Rookwoods.

Alexander noted the burn on her fingers, clearly she'd fell victim to the imprisonment of the family spells. This was something he decided not to comment on.

'I want this, especially with you.' There had been a time earlier tonight when Alexander had shown a charismatic side to him but it appeared only honesty was going to work with Isadora. 'The marriage law doesn't partner pure bloods together, if I went along with their match making system then I'd be staining the Nott line. You're a pureblood too, I'd presume you don't want to marry anything less?'

'The marriage isn't what we asked for but you will be getting married against your wishes sometime soon whether it be with me or a stranger. Unless you want to go to Azkaban?'

There wasn't any threatening in his tone, he spoke calmly and knowledgeably.

“He’ll calm her down,” Draco waved his hand through the air as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. He wasn’t sure, though. If anything, she was as terrifyingly implacable as her mother was and naturally seemed to thwart sense. However, unlike Astoria, Isadora did understand practicalities and thus could be reasonable when presented with a decent unquestionable motive worth cooperating for. The wine passed Draco’s lips. Alexander had to calm her down. He wasn’t sure what any of them were going to do if the toys, thrown from the pram, stayed strewn across the floor. There weren’t that many Purebloods left.

“Well I-” Astoria opened her mouth to protest but Draco’s hand fell calmly to the back of her neck, pressing briefly against it in warning. It seemed as though allegiances had swivelled a little. As he patted the back of her neck, effectively silencing her, Draco’s eyes remained on Pansy’s, watching as her dark gaze flirted his way and that between them all. When he held her gaze for the barest of moments his lips twisted into a smirk. Allegiances might have changed, indeed, but it seemed as though for the pursuit of the greater pleasure of them all, Draco would have to do the unselfish thing and sleep with Pansy. Maybe even a few times – all in the name of the greater good, of course.

Isadora crossed her arms over her chest and watched Alexander carefully.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” she turned on him.

Although, despite her harsh words she could feel herself falter a little bit, her arms growing slack in front of her. They soon fell back down to her sides, however, and she dropped her gaze to her feet. She shrugged her shoulders a little, lifting her gaze back up as she gathered a little bit of strength about her. Right though he was, she wasn’t going to make a habit of being the simpering wife just yet.

“To be brutally honest I don’t care at this point in time. I want the luxury of choice and to choose someone who wants me, too. Now, in lieu of that, I recognise that this is practical.” She swallowed. “And no, I don’t want to take after my grandfather in that respect, thank you.”

Despite herself she smiled then. She shook her head and laughed a little before stepping forward. She held up her hand, twinkling her burnt fingers in the yellow light of the lamp.

“Do you have your wand with you?” She asked gently. “Do you think you could put a cooling charm here just until I can find some salve?” She smirked. “Tit for tat. You do that. I’ll be more agreeable. But know that I have no disagreement with your parents. It’s mainly just … no, it’s entirely my mother. But I’ll do it, Alexander. Because it’s better than the alternatives, isn’t it? And, it won’t be so bad. Right?”

There was something in the way Draco observed her, was he perhaps thinking that they would create some dirty laundry of their own. Maybe if Pansy could get him into bed once then she'd blackmail and manipulate him. He would never leave Astoria but she desired Draco more than she desired Isadora to marry Alexander and continue the pure blood legacy. Malfoy had always been something on her checklist, perhaps she'd get to tick it and milk the tick for all it was worth.

The reporter took a sip of her wine and called for the house else.

'Dessert.' Was the only word that she said, a flicker of a curl from her lip momentarily flashed as her eyes connected with Draco's. She would most certainly have her cake and eat it too.


From Isadora's first words Alexander was ready to object, he was on the verge of interrupting and claiming how much he desired her. Not that he did for love, more for pure blood gain and promotion in the pure blood society. It was one thing being a pure blood, but to marry a pureblood and create heirs. That was really the cherry on top of the basis of pure blood supremacy.

A smile of relief fell upon Alexander's face. The Ravenclaw had agreed. He'd managed to persuade, how he wasn't sure, was it even his words that had convinced her to marry him? Maybe, then again she was a Ravenclaw and like his sister Ally Isadora no doubt had a million thoughts in her head. That was something he hadn't thought about. Isadora was a Ravenclaw - would she make a difficult wife? If all Ravenclaws were like Ally then Alexander would have to say yes.

Withdrawing his wand from the dress robes he muttered the incantation and allowed a wash of cool air to dance along her burning fingers.

'It's better than the alternative, Isadora.' He agreed. 'I'll be busy working for the ministry and getting my career sorted, although I'll make sure I can be the best husband I can be, given the circumstances.'

Placing his wand back into his robes Alexander held out his arm for her to link.

'How about we go and tell them we've come to agreement, I'm sure our Mother's will be thrilled.'