The afternoon sun illuminated the gorgeous estate home in warm orange light giving it more life than it did during the usual gloomy lake weather days. Dalemain, the Abercrombie family estate was a massive structure that was almost entirely uninhabited now but in it's earlier days had been the seat of many important Abercrombie family members, their guests, and important events. Those born into the exclusive upper echelon of the upper class would know it well. Before the Wars had descended upon their society the home had been the host of many much anticipated events in the social year. Now though the home was hardly utilized at all. Of the four wings only two were lived in, the main wing occupied by Farren's Grandfather and Father were the main portion of the home. The men of the family had abutting apartments on the floors above the foyer and formal rooms. Farren's apartment was in the west wing of the home, the most updated and newest wing, renovated in the 1700s to reflect the modern lavish tastes of the time. Her rooms were decadent and bright, filled with elegant gilding, white marble, and beautifully polished floors. Yet somehow they still held the original darkness and staunch attitude the rest of the house did. If Marie Antointte had been a dark witch she'd have lived in Farren's apartment most certainly.
Though the three members of the Abercrombie family lived under one roof they rarely saw each other. Each was occupied with their own comings and goings. Each was the bearer of overwhelming struggles in the wake of the war and each dealt with them in their own way. Her father, beside himself with the loss of his darling but deeply troubled wife had withdrawn into a deep seclusion for a year and a half nearly. Her Grandfather was everyday out and about rallying their peers to resume their mantles in business and government and muster as much dignity and return to normalcy as possible. Farren was left to be the face of the family and their fortune. Abercrombie Publishing was still the largest publishing house in Europe and although their politics found them the victims of skepticism and quite boycotts their influence was too deep to be completely shut out. Between her mourning and trauma Farren had hammered out her place in the world in attempting to reclaim the honor that they'd all lost in the public eye. Even though nearly everyday was started with a twinge of deep, unabaiting pain, she put on a good face and wowed the public with her natural style, striking looks, and intoxicating persona. All of the family was constantly plagued by fears that they'd be arrested for association or that their assets would be seized or any slew of other possible reasons for the government and public to destroy them. It was an exhausting existence but one that they saw no other way around.
As she sat at her piano quietly tinkling the keys as a new piece of music took shape in her mind Farren tried to push these worries from her burdened conscious. Today of all days she felt was a time for forward thinking because the reflection she would face would lead to nothing but sorrow if she didn't look forward. Her tune was hesitantly melancholy and every bar she would pause to make a note of the individual notes she'd hit on a bit of blank sheet music. The promise of today was so exciting she'd been up at dawn nearly preparing for the day. The guest apartment, occupying the floor below hers had been meticulously prepared. Farren had had the best linens and china brought out of storage and installed in the room. It had been scrubbed spotless and glistening by the elves for the last week. The furnishings were handsome enough for royalty and she'd taken the liberty of installing some subtle gifts in the room. A set of new robes in a striking navy shade with impressively elegant embroidery hung in the closet next to two new suits, one grey, one black. Each item was detailed with his initials. Personalized dress shirts accompanied these pieces as well as a new set of shoes and leather mules to wear around the house. The bathroom was stocked with the finest soaps and tonics. A fluffy luxurious robe embroidered with the family crest hung near the tub along with a pile of perfect white towels that were enchanted to stay warm. The counter was stocked with the finest shaving products and a brand new bottle of cologne, his name engraved in the silver bottle sat by the sink. The bar was fully stocked with the finest liquors and cigars and the table in the parlor was set with a golden bowl full of the finest fruits available.
Although she assumed her guest would find the outpouring of extravagance either completely unnecessary or completely expected and average she felt like it was the least she could do. Draco Malfoy was a legend and despite the fact that she was in all ways his equal and in some ways his superior she'd always viewed the younger boy with an attitude of respect and awe. They were never a duo or a pair and they were never publicly associated as such. Perhaps gossip columnist loved to dream the day they could ship for Dracen or Farro the pair had never been associated in such a way. Something about them went so much deeper than tabloid fodder and wistful thinking for pureblood pairings. Farren Abercrombie and Draco Malfoy had been the teenage equivalents of medieval rulers of neighboring kingdoms with an unyielding peace treaty and mutual respect. They watched the other silently from a distance go about their business and met in private to discuss things that only another king would understand and share in confidence the feelings no one else could be trusted with. Perhaps it was the probability of mutually assured destruction or the lingering curiosity and interest in the other's welfare that kept them in this game they played. It could have purely been the fact that theyd know eachother since birth ajd their families had long socialized together amd they were raised viewing the other as an extension of their own kin in a way. Whatever it was no one in her peer group garnered more respect from Farren than Draco Malfoy and she knew that no matter what happened during the war he would always share that same respect for her. The heirs of life as they'd always known it. The children of the Death Eaters, forever linked by a thin, morbid fiber.
Scratching away at the sheet music with her quill Farren's mind wandered to their last meeting. It had been spring of Draco's 7th year, the year he spent at his family home serving Voldemort with his parents. Under the cover of night they'd met at the Abercrombie safe house nestled away in a lower class apartment building on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The meeting had been tense, both overwhelmed by the war and the impending culmination of the war that everyone understood to be coming. Though they were but 17 and 18 theyd seen and done more than most their age would ever do. Things they hadn't wanted to do but things they were obligated to do. Something lingered in her mind about the meeting though and resonated through her often. The sentiment they'd exchanged as they'd parted ways was somehow a moment that in her mind defined them. It wasn't the look of teenagers keen to see how far their peer could go, mesmerized by the other's natural ego and superiority, or even that of two handsome young people curious if there was ever anything to speculate about. It had been an exchange of mutual understanding of the shared pain and sorrow. Feelings that perhaps very few others could ever understand. Their embrace in the doorway of the apartment was like that of a terrified soul cleaving to their last life line before falling from the brink. For Farren she'd felt like it was her last grasp at the life raft connected to her previous life and her former self.
The little gold clock on top of the piano struck one and Farren set her quill down. It was time for his arrival and suddenly she was nervous about it. So much time had passed and so many things had happened since their somber meeting at the apartment 17 months prior. She was a different person and she assumed he was too. She looked different, she was growing into herself more and more now. She was a powerful young woman and her appearance made that abundantly clear. Her posture and natural grace accentuated her long slender frame. If she wasn't so slight she'd have been imposing. Her face had thinned and the angular bone structure that had made her mother so striking and fearsome was evident. As always her crystal blue eyes stood out against her complexion and dark hair and though she looked fresh and beautiful those eyes were deeply and troubled. Her
style was elegant though not as traditional as it used to be. She was supposed to be a modern woman after all. As always her looks spoke for themselves and the simple dress and heirloom jewels adorning her were an after thought. She was effortless and always had been. No matter how sad she may be or however many battles raged in her soul she was still holding onto her captivating looks.
Malfoy had been granted a rare courtesy as part of his invitation to Dalemain. The invitation to stay had arrived with an Abercrombie signet ring. Almost all of the upper echelon of their society was aware that the Abercrombie home was enchanted to allow only blood relatives aparate into the property. The only override to this was wearing one of a few enchanted family heirlooms from the family vault. The wearer would be allowed aparation access to the property so long as they wore the item. It was rare for someone to be loaned such an item, the last person being Voldemort himself.
Farren waited inside the grand foyer for his arrival. Her maids, Butler, and three elves waited behind her in a neat row. The space was sparsely decorated as all nonessential adornment had been removed after her mother's death. The table in the center of the room held a large but simple bouquet of white wild flowers. In the center of the floral arrangement was a glass dome, suspended in mid air in the dome was a wand. It was tiny, a delicate white birch wand with elegant carvings along the handle. Next to it suspended in the air was a beautiful diamond ring, the stone was so perfect it glistened even though the foyer was dim. The antique gold setting was sparkling as well, it was her mother's own family ring that allowed her entrance into the home just as the ring she'd sent to Malfoy did. In front of the table the white marble floor was besmeared with a faint but notable grey stain. The place where her mother had laid, moments after her death, in blood soaked robes, after her husband rescued her body from Hogwarts was noticably marked. The elves had done everything in their power to clean it but as was often rumored magical objects absorbed magic when able. Her mother's blood had been the woman's final sacrafice to the family and her magic would be immortalized in the magical powers of their home. Farren had debated covering the spot in various ways but ultimately decided that the foyer, as long as she lived, would be their last and only physical reminder of what had transpired apart from the mausoleum housing her mother and grandmother in the family cemetery. Her father kept the flowers fresh and had encased her wand and ring for the world to see as they entered their home, not that anyone visited. Farren knew that he'd wanted to include her mask but fearing criminal charges Farren had taken the mask for safe keeping while her father was unwell. Staring at the grey oval stain on her marble floor she waited for her companion subconsciously hopeful that the arrival of one Death Eater would help her forget many others.
