"You must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."
"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it."
"Oh! Certainly," cried his faithful assistant. "No one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."
"All this she must possess," added Darcy, "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."
"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."
Draco paused, steeling a glance at Evangeline, slumbering by his side.
God, was this where she learned it? Her tendency to give him hell, constantly? Did she learn it all from that damned muggle book? He chuckled to himself, smiling at her unassuming form.
"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all of this?"
"I have never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united."
Draco had Evan's gifted book in his lap, reading it underneath the light of his wand and trying not to make too much noise each time he turned the page.
He knew why it was her favorite book. Elizabeth Bennet was just as headstrong and studious and ambitious as Evangeline. And, Draco thought, Mr. Darcy might have been as arrogant and rude and standoffish as he was.
Maybe he would learn something. But for now, he could not help chuckling at the strange wording that Austen used, and the mundane difficulties that muggles dealt with in the 1800's. It would have all been hell of a lot simpler if the Bennet sisters either were born with magical blood or talked in normal-people English, instead of using twenty words to describe something that would ordinarily take like . . . three.
"Elizabeth Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion—"
"D?"
Draco looked over. Evan opened her sleepy eyes, looking at him quizzically through the darkness. He felt caught, as if he had been found out.
"Well, if it isn't my little Christmas present," Draco murmured, closing the book and keeping his thumb in it to mark the page.
Evan pulled the comforter closer around herself. He chuckled at her tendency to curl up entirely in blankets, tucking the bunched comforter between her knees and tucking a particularly fluffy section under her jaw.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"5:03."
"In the morning?" Evan asked, her eyes flying wide open.
"No, Evangeline. It's five pm. You missed Santa Claus and he's pissed," Draco answered, smirking at her through a feigned eye-roll.
"Have you not been to bed yet?" she asked worriedly, shifting up onto an elbow.
Draco had not, as it happened.
"Come sleep with me," Evangeline mumbled, raising an expectant hand.
"I think I already did," he teased, setting Pride and Prejudice to the side. Evan sighed against his touch, the lingering stroke of his hand on her cheek. She shifted closer to him, tossing the comforter over his shoulder.
"Just sleep with me," Evan said in accusation. "I know you're tired."
"Aw, are you concerned about my well-being?" Draco teased, trying in vain to derail her inquisition. He pressed his thumb underneath her bottom lip, smiling down at her mouth—at the lips that only he had ever truly kissed.
"Only a little," Evan chuckled. Draco let his hand drop, his eyelids drooping as he looked away. "You're actually reading my book," Evan said in surprise, following his gaze down to Pride and Prejudice, laying between them.
"I think you're trying to hint something to me with this one," he said, touching gently at the golden foil lettering. He couldn't help finding the resemblance to their own situation—the prejudice with which he had treated her, and now the romance that had bloomed between them. It was rather uncanny.
"Not really," Evan laughed. "But I'm glad you're understanding the themes."
He smiled shyly at her. As she looked at him, her face formed back into an expression of concern.
"Come here," Evan whispered. Draco shuffled closer to her, wrapping an arm around her bare waist. "Why won't you sleep?"
"Can't," he replied simply. He pressed his lips into her jaw, barely grazing her with a soft kiss. Evan sighed against his lips, gripping at his hair. But then, she focused up, her eyes narrowed but wearing a smirk that she was trying to hide.
"Fuck you, what's wrong?"
Draco chuckled, shaking his head at her in awe. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's right," he insisted.
"Too excited by your deflowering to go to bed?" she teased, pushing his hair back lovingly from his eyes.
"Something like that, yeah," he admitted.
There was a moment of silence in which Draco just held her, furrowing his eyebrows at the Black Lake out the window. His eyelids dropped, but he wrenched them open.
"I'm not going anywhere, you know," Evan then whispered. The woman was truly an all-knowing entity. Embarrassed, Draco looked down at the book again. "You haven't scared me off."
He always underestimated her, he knew. But Draco was violence and gore and blood and pain. It was his nature.
"Okay," he whispered, chewing on his bottom lip.
"Is that what it is?" Evan asked. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. Draco was still chewing on the inside of his bottom lip, furrowing his brows.
His insomnia did not have just one source. He was thinking about Evan, about himself, about his father. He'd take another broken nose, a million more screaming matches. He would face his disownment, a martyr for her noble cause.
But Draco didn't think he was worth it to her. He didn't think he ever could be.
"I knew being with you would be good but. . ." he started to explain in a hushed whisper. "But Evan . . . it was fucking divine."
"Agreed," she said with a smirk. Draco smiled lightly up at her, running lazy fingertips up the small of her back.
"I . . . worship you," he murmured, furrowing his brows. He leaned in, whispering to her with his lips just barely grazing hers. "And I want to keep you." He rubbed his nose on hers. Evan exhaled slowly, sighing and melting. Then she was the one to lean in, capturing his lips in hers.
Even just one kiss would have been enough for him. But now, even after he made her bleed and most definitely hurt her, she was kissing him again. Draco groaned in pleasure, pulling her closer, flush against his naked body. Evan sucked on his bottom lip, making every worry flood out of him as his eyes rolled back. She then placed a sweet peck on his lip.
"Yes. Please."
Draco kept his eyes closed, but he could see the smile in her voice on the back of his eyelids. He relaxed, letting her play with the hair at the back of his neck. She kissed his cheek, then kissed a trail to the corner of his mouth. Draco smiled lazily, his mind shutting off as if Evan had flipped the switch.
"I'll be right here when you wake up," she whispered.
"Swear to it," Draco whispered back.
Evan chuckled. "Cross my heart. Hope to die. To my lover I'd never lie." She planted another, firmer kiss on his cheek. His chest imploded with warmth.
"Fucking . . . adorable," he told her, mumbling and relaxing further into the pillow.
"Come here," Evan said suddenly.
"Why?" Draco asked with a laugh, because she had moved over and opened her arms, waiting for him to fill the empty space between them.
"I want to hold you, stubborn ass."
Draco lunged at her, barreling into her and stuffing his face into her neck. He breathed deeply. Even after fucking like animals and getting all sweaty, his Evangeline still smelled of vanilla and spice.
Within mere moments, Draco faded off into peaceful, slumbering dreams. Even unconscious, Draco knew that she was there.
- - -
"WAKE UP D, IT'S CHRISTMAS!!"
Who the fuck is yelling?
His babygirl was yelling. She was shrieking at Draco, pulling on his arm.
"Hm?!" Draco exclaimed in alarm, his head shooting up from the pillow.
"Wake upppp!!!"
Draco blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to consciousness. It was less of an adjustment and more of a harsh shock, a bombardment of light and sounds and a pretty little hand that was pulling his shoulder relentlessly.
"Okay, okay, for fuck's sake, I'm up," Draco grumbled irritably.
He sat up, rubbing his face. When he fully opened his eyes, his vision unblurring, Draco nearly fell apart at the sheer cuteness of Evangeline Blackwood.
She was wide eyed and perky, sitting on his bed cross-legged, her back erect. She was wearing his Quidditch sweater, black leggings, and red and white striped fluffy socks that looked far too big on her feet. She raised her eyebrows, looking at Draco expectantly.
Draco busted out laughing, because goddamn her.
"I thought you hated Christmas," Draco laughed, pouting at her because she was so adorable, she was going to make his chest burst—she'd have to hose him off the walls.
"Stop making fun of me! Santa Claus came and he's forgiven me of my transgressions, so come on!" Evan shrieked, yet again gripping his arm and yanking him up. Draco groaned and nearly flopped back down onto the mattress, but then she gave him a hard yank, pulling him entirely to the edge of the bed. He laughed and sat up.
Evan watched him as he got dressed. He dressed himself hilariously slowly, just to fuck with her.
"DRACO!" she shrieked out in actual irritation, because he was pulling on his trousers with elderly-like care.
"EVAN!" he exclaimed in a mock, laughing again.
When they went downstairs, Evan took the stairs two at a time. She slowed down when they reached the common room, gripping Draco's hand and guiding him over to the couch.
"Did you do this?" he asked, chuckling at her. The common room looked quite festive with a giant Christmas tree by the fireplace, crackers and decorations on every surface, a plate of Christmas sweets, and a silver pitcher of something hot steaming on the coffee table.
"It's like this every year," Evan scoffed. "Fuckin' purebloods. Thank the house elves."
"Oh sure, I'll give Dobby a big hug next time I see him."
Draco sit calmly on the couch, but Evan was bursting with excitement, soon handing him a giant box that was under the tree. He supposed his parents hadn't completely disowned him yet, because they sent along all of his gifts from his friends that had were addressed to Malfoy Manor. Luckily, Draco sent his presents out a few day early, before he left. He hoped Theo, Onyx, and Blaise were currently opening up his own presents to them.
Draco started to open the first box. It was positively massive. He read the tag, not knowing what the fuck Nott could have possibly given him of such a size. Evan was giggling, opening her own gift from Onyx. Draco scoffed good-naturedly at her. He was smiling so hard, his whole face hurt.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with this?" Draco asked Evan, holding up a huge, bright yellow, glass-blown bong. Theo knew that Draco hated muggle weed—and Cheer, for that matter.
"He probably just bought it for you so that he could borrow it," Evan chuckled.
"How in the hell did he get this into the castle?" Draco asked, because he would think someone would have checked the gifts for drug paraphernalia, at the very least.
"Shoved up his bum, I bet," Evan smirked. Then she held out a bottle of perfume to him. It smelled like vanilla and flowers and something else . . . coffee maybe? He nodded his approval.
As Evan read Onyx's letter, Draco got up and handed her another present. Hers was a little black box from Blaise, and his was a parcel from the same sender.
He had already removed a chocolate frog from the parcel, looking further at an interesting book Blaise gifted him about the history of alchemy, when Evan said, "Oh, for fuck's sake."
"What?" Draco asked with a chuckle.
"Zabini and I now have matching bracelets," she replied with a laugh, holding up a thin silver chain.
"How cute," Draco smirked. He took the bracelet from her and hooked it around her wrist. "Poor Blaise. It's not exactly masculine."
"I thought it was a good gift. Almost bought it for myself and now I don't have to."
"I can't believe my lover has friendship bracelets with a bloke she once shagged," Draco said, the word "lover" rolling off his tongue with surprising ease.
"I can take it off if it helps your bruised ego," Evan teased him.
"No. But I'm gonna give Zabini shit for it, mark my words," he said, smiling down at the piece of jewelry.
They continued on their Christmas unwrapping, Evan handing him another box from under the tree. He had to admire the decorations. It was a much better Christmas display than he had ever seen in his years at Malfoy Manor.
"Oh, fucking hell," Draco scoffed upon opening Pansy's present. He looked between the gifted sweater and the one that Evan currently wore, laughing at the irony and the clear resemblance. "I should give this one to you, too. Then we'll really get her in a state."
Evan chuckled, then looked down at his Quidditch sweater on her shoulders, tucking the too-long sleeve into her palm. She beamed at Draco, opening her own present.
"Forget anything I've ever said about Theodore," she said a moment later. "He's a sweetheart."
"Oh, and he got me a damn bong?" Draco said, looking at the quite thoughtful Care of Magical Creatures supply kit. "I tell you, they all prefer you over me."
"Well, you're my favorite."
Oh, goddamn her. She made Draco blush quite heavily. He smiled widely at her, excited. She grinned at him, biting her lip, and he decided this was officially the best Christmas he had ever had.
Because he was her favorite.
Draco sighed happily as Evan retrieved the next presents. Draco open the one from Onyx, a casual note with a broomstick maintenance kit. He was thinking that this should be it. He didn't gift presents to anyone else, and he was not expecting anything from anyone else in return. But there were two boxes still sitting under the tree.
Evan was thinking the same thing, looking between Draco and the presents in confusion. They both stood, walking tentatively over to the tree.
When they both settled back onto the couch, gifts in their laps, Draco stared down at his, seething.
They signed the tag, 'From Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.' Fucking assholes.
"What are the chances there's a cursed object in here?" Evan asked. Draco looked at the tag and saw that hers was from Pansy.
"About the same odds as with mine," he said, only half joking. "Fuck. On three?"
"Mm-hmm."
"One . . . two . . . three."
Draco's was the same as every other year. There was a scarf, a new shirt, a couple of books. There were a few fancy magical convenience objects in there as well, but Draco didn't investigate any further. He just stared down at the gifts, itching to burn them all.
Evan gasped at his side. Draco looked over, half expecting her to start convulsing or to drop dead on the spot. But she was holding out a silver ring, staring at it in shock.
"That's from Pansy?" Draco asked, stunned.
It was a Slytherin ring—identical to the one Draco was currently wearing on his middle finger—a symbol of Slytherin pride.
"I. . . no. It can't be," Evan said, turning the ring over and looking at the serpent.
After a moment, Evan slipped it onto her finger. It seemed the Pansy vs. Evan drama was coming to an end—it couldn't have come bloody soon enough.
"Welcome to Slytherin, Evangeline," Draco said, smirking knowingly at her. Evan let out a breathy laugh, grinning.
"Never in a million years would I have thought you'd ever say that to me," Evan said, melting over it.
After she settled back against the couch, Draco bypassed all of the expensive garbage in his own box and went straight for the closed letter.
"I can-" Evan started, moving to stand, to give him space.
"Nuh-uh," Draco said firmly, reaching out blindly for her as she inspected the envelope. He found her hand and pulled her back down beside him.
Draco,
Happy Christmas. I hope that your time alone at the castle will give you an opportunity to think, to ponder over our conversation.
It is the time to start making big decisions. The choice you make will impact the rest of your life: your security, your future, and the good of your family. The surety that you feel, in your feelings for this girl, may seem justified right now. However, you have an entire life ahead, with many years to suffer at the hand of your own mistake. Although you are still so young, in a time when you are supposed to make mistakes and figure out who you are, this one is entirely different, as end result will be permanent.
Hearing your profession of love for Evangeline Blackwood was the most terrified I have ever been as a mother. When you were a young boy, I used to fret over you constantly, scared to death when you hit your head or fell down or wandered out of sight. That fear, derived from a new mother's love, is nothing in comparison to the fear that I feel for you now. I have seen how a blood-traitorous romance can destroy even the closest of family bonds—and I refuse to break the sacred bond of mother and son.
Therefore, I have included another letter.
Give it to Evangeline. I have added a privacy charm, to ensure that no one may read it but her. Once the term resumes, give it to her at the soonest opportunity. Do not make any decisions until she has read it to completion.
Love Always,
Mother.
Draco looked over at Evan, furrowing his brows and searching her face. Then he reached inside the box and handed her the other closed letter, the Malfoy crest sealing the envelope in black wax.
"For you."