Merely Misunderstood

Chapter Fifty-Nine

A knock suddenly arose from Draco's bedroom door, and my eyes flashed to the closed mahogany door, concerned about who was behind it.

"It's okay," Draco whispered into my chest, turning his head to the side to call out, "Enter."

The door slowly opened, and at first, I saw no one. But then, I heard the sound of wheels being rolled onto the wooden floor of Draco's bedroom, and my eyes dropped lower to see a breakfast trolley being pushed into the room by some unknown force.

It took me a moment too long to realize there was probably a house-elf walking along behind the trolley, completely hidden, and I felt like an idiot for thinking the trolley was rolling itself — although I supposed it wouldn't be too strange, considering I was living in a world where magic existed.

"Master Draco, you asked for breakfast in your room today, correct?" the croaky voice of the house-elf said from behind the trolley, and he stepped out into view, his weary eyes gazing up tiredly at where Draco lay snuggled on top of me.

Draco nodded. "About time, too — it can't even be called breakfast anymore. What took you?" he asked, not bothering to sit up or even move from the position he was laying in. I thought about his words and assumed it was probably around noon now, maybe even early afternoon.

The house-elf bowed deeply, the tip of its long, crooked nose brushing the floor. "My apologies, Master Draco. I was kept by my Mistress — she required me to remain in my quarters for the duration of the meeting."

Draco nodded, murmuring a sound of understanding. "Oh, that's right," he mused. "Very well, you may go. Just leave the trolley here; I'll call for you to pick it up once we're done."

The house else bowed deeply once more, backing slowly out of the room. Once he'd closed the door silently behind him, it felt safe to ask, "There was a meeting?"

Draco nodded, sighing deeply before reluctantly going to sit up, pushing himself away from me and crawling to sit at the edge of the bed. "Yeah. Our manor sort of became the meeting place for You-Know-Who and his followers."

A cold chill ran down my spine as he said this. I was currently inside the same house as You-Know-Who? That meant the Death Eaters were here, too, which also meant that it was probably incredibly dangerous for me to be here. As had Draco said once before, if the Death Eaters were to find me, they would most likely kill me as a favor to You-Know-Who. None of them would be merciful to the daughter of two deserters.

But yet, as I thought about this, I felt no fear. After all, if I were to be caught, then that would be it — I would be killed. Somehow, that wasn't a big deal. It's not like I would be leaving anything behind; the only things that mattered to me anymore were Draco and Mirah.

At this point, I truly had no regard for my own life.

That being said, if Draco asked me to leave in order to protect myself, I knew I wouldn't be able to do it. For one thing, I refused to leave his side again, and for another, if it was dangerous for me to be here, then it was dangerous for him, too. Removing myself from a dangerous situation while he stayed... well, it made no sense. Why would I do that?

No, I wasn't going anywhere. Wherever he went, I would follow. It was simple as that. I could care less whether there were people downstairs that wanted to kill me. So long as Draco was here, I didn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

"Hungry?" Draco's voice broke me from my thoughts, and I turned to see him sitting at the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off the side as he rummaged through the array of food on the trolley, which he had pulled up to the edge of the bed and was using as a table.