The Half-Blood Rose

Chapter 8: Saint-Tropez

After just a few more days, Beatrice had returned to work and Draco had recuperated fully. Beatrice smiled as her nephew came back to normal, and for once she observed how handsome young Draco actually was. He truly was the spitting image of Lucius back in his third year, except maybe for slight differences.

"What do you say to the Doctor?" Lucius asked with a smile.

"Thank you," Draco said, and gave her a hug.

Beatrice smiled and hugged him back. "I'm glad you're all better, mister Malfoy."

***

It was weeks and Narcissa still hadn't returned to Malfoy Manor. In fact, Draco had missed his mother so much, he decided to go with her for a while. This, of course, left the mansion solely to Lucius, and while he missed his son that he loved and adored so very much, it felt good to be alone for a while.

He would invite Beatrice, and she would invite him to her home in London. The pair spent many a day and night together, until Narcissa wrote that she was planning to return home with Draco. Lucius, accepting his responsibility, could not even deny her return. Lucius and Beatrice always knew that as soon as things returned to the status quo, they would have to cease everything between them. But Beatrice was happy, because deep down, she knew he loved her, and because even though while briefly, her deepest desires came true, and she got to experience having Lucius all over again.

In the weeks that followed, Lucius would sit in his study and contemplate his relationship to the two significant women in his life. One was whom he needed, the other was whom he wanted. One was controlling, devious, and unafraid of the dark, and the other was loving, honest, and benevolent. Perhaps, in some strange way, it was Narcissa's actual love for the Dark Arts that rubbed on him and made him a better actor in the eyes of the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters; perhaps it was Narcissa who oddly saved him somehow all this time. For this, he respected her, but his actual love for her was never even comparable to the one he felt for the healer. Alas, life works in mysterious ways.

Towards late July, the news hit Britain's wizarding world: convicted psychopath at-large Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. Beatrice was in disbelief, but she felt worried. Her father had helped Sirius run away once, so it gave her every possible reason to believe that Sirius would try to seek refuge from her. Of course she believed in his innocence, but aiding him would entirely incriminate her, not only with the remainder of the Blacks but with all of wizarding law.

Curiously, she started experiencing morning sickness, and a strange bloating sensation in her lower belly come September. This could not be, she thought. At her 38 years of age, she didn't believe she could get pregnant that easily, but indeed, after running a maternity spell, it confirmed that she was. And it was Lucius' child.

Her whole mindset had changed. What would she do now? Would she tell Lucius? No, that she could not do. It was too dangerous. The Dark Lord had risen these past few years, and though it was said he was defeated, something inside her told her that this wasn't to be the end yet. There was a strange presentiment that there were more things to come. So Beatrice, instead of just thinking about herself, started thinking of her and her baby. So she fled to the south of France and never turned back.

There, she found another job as a healer at a good hospital, and gave birth to a baby girl. She raised her along the French Riviera, teaching her about magic, and falling in love with her daughter with every moment that passed. Lucille Malfoy got the dark hair from the Blacks, but her pale blue eyes were her father's. However, she had a kind heart and a very strong proclivity to magic.

Beatrice, however, never failed to keep up on the news of her native England. Indeed, her intuition was right—the nightmarish reign of Voldemort was far from over. Cedric Diggory killed in the Triwizard Tournament, then the escape from Azkaban by her own deranged cousin Bellatrix and several other Death Eaters ... and that's when things began to get real hairy. Albus Dumbledore dead, and then the Second Wizarding War. By this time, Lucille was four years old, and Beatrice couldn't help but think that had she stayed in England, there was a strong possibility that perhaps neither of them would've been alive this long. She was glad to have gotten out of that situation while she still could.