Poison Ivy || Draco Malfoy

13 - Cold Trickles

"So, how's the exhibition going?" Percy asked, holding out a glass of wine for me, to which I gratefully took before collapsing exhaustedly onto the sofa.

Every evening that week, I had been helping Bertie to set up my exhibition at his museum after work in time for opening night which was to be at the end of the month.

Bertie had been appalled that I was wasting my talent working in the Ministry; and even more so when I told him I was engaged to my boss.

"Another muse?" he had queried sceptically, glancing pointedly at my drawings of Draco. "Judging by how you've drawn this young gentleman, you have a superior talent of capturing people in your art."

"No, I've never drawn Percy, he wouldn't have the patience." I confessed.

The truth was, I'd never had any desire to draw Percy in the slightest; never had the desire to draw anyone other than Draco before.

Every time I looked at those drawings of him, I felt the familiar stirrings in my stomach; recalling every longing feeling I had had for him for all those years. I tried to ignore them; tried to push them down like I had done for the past five years, but I found it was proving more difficult the longer I spent around the drawings.

I found myself reliving how I felt when I realised he was dating my sister and the pain it caused me to see them together. I remembered how my heart had fluttered when he had kissed me; the way his body had felt pressed up against mine. I remembered how, when I had been sat drawing him in the dock, my heart had simply crushed upon seeing his resigned and broken expression; realising he had to spend the next two years in the most depressing place in the world.

In other words, the drawings broke my heart all over again.

"It's coming along," I shrugged, answering Percy's question as I took a sip of my wine. "Bertie reckons it's going to be a big turn out. I'm quite nervous actually. I did those drawings years ago."

"Well," Percy said, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose, "they must be good if Bertie Monet wants to display them. I, myself, am looking forward to seeing what my little artist has created."

I swallowed back a bubble of fear. I still hadn't decided if I should warn him about the subject. All Percy knew was that they were drawings from my one day career as a courtroom artist. He had no idea that every single one of them was of Draco Malfoy.

"I was also thinking," Percy continued, "that once the opening night is over, maybe we could arrange a date for the wedding. It has been four years now and it's about time I made an honest woman of you."

"But I'm going to be busy setting up my studio for the art class," I said quickly, desperately clutching at straws as panic constricted my chest.

When Bertie offered me the chance to open up my very own studio in his museum and teach an adult art class, I jumped upon it.

Arrangements were going to start being made as soon as the opening night was done and dusted; when I had finished working my notice at the Ministry.

Things were finally starting to happen for me, and for the first time, I had a future I was actually looking forward to.

And, I realised, as I continued to sip my wine side by side with Percy on the sofa, that I just couldn't wait to finish my job at the Ministry. I would be free.

But now, with Percy's suggestion of planning a date for the wedding, I felt that freedom quickly evaporate.

"But you'll be your own boss won't you?" Percy scoffed. "No, we'll make a date at the end of the month. No more excuses."

My heart sank. It was clear he wouldn't take anymore argument.

"Let's have an early night to celebrate," he said, leaning in closer to me as he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, "my little Poison Ivy."

I smiled, feeling it not quite reaching my eyes as I tried to ignore the horrible coldness that trickled down my spine.

*****

"There's a lot of the same picture," Percy said rather pompously. "Old Bertie must really like Malfoy if he thinks this is worth millions."

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or insulted.

The opening night was finally here, and I found myself holding my breath as Percy finally came face to face with my exhibit.

I had to quash down the feeling of guilt as his eyes roamed over the hundreds of pictures of the beautiful Slytherin Prince that were displayed in chronological order across the wall; seeing him through my eyes.

Bertie wanted me to name the exhibit 'Unrequited Love' but that title didn't sit right with me.

I didn't want people to know about how my heart had desired my sister's boyfriend. I realised these pictures had the potential to expose me, but it had been my job, after all, to draw him in court; nobody needed to know I drew Draco a bit more than was required of me.

So in the end he grudgingly agreed to call it 'Boy in the Dock'.

"Well, I suppose the art speaks for itself," Bertie had mused, "anyone with a good eye and understanding of true art will see that these pictures show the aching, agonising pain of a love unreturned."

I exhaled a sigh of relief when Percy simply shrugged and moved on to see the other artists' exhibits.

I looked around the room, full of people dressed up smartly as they roamed their critical eyes over the art; some of them here out of genuine interest, but most of them here for the free booze.

It was to my relief when Pansy said she couldn't make it. Apparently Edgar was hosting some sort of cruise shindig on the Thames.

"Such a dull affair," she had sighed regretfully, "but he promised to buy me a string of these darling pearls if I accompany him. You don't mind do you, Ivy? You know how art simply bores me; I'll just end up yawning all over your beautiful work."

I felt saved. As soon as this exhibition was over; I'd put the drawings, and Draco Malfoy, back away out of my life. I had my new art class to look forward to and I was excited about the possibilities it would create for me.

I couldn't help but feel a small buzz as the place continued to fill with people. I smiled and nodded, answering questions about my art, and enjoying the attention and appreciation that my drawings seemed to create.

I saw Percy over the other side of the room, chatting animatedly to a few stiffs in suits whom I recognised from the Ministry. Near to the left of him, Bertie was at the entrance greeting new arrivals; and it was as my eyes lingered on him welcoming a large lady in a very oversized feathered hat did I splutter up my champagne, spraying it everywhere in front of me.

Because, as the large lady moved aside, entering the exhibition next, with a stunningly pretty dark haired witch hanging off his arm, was none other than Draco Malfoy himself.

*****