"Are you sure, Malfoy?" Potter looks up at him from behind his glasses. His eyes are narrowed in concentration, mulling over Draco's suspicions. He leans forward and folds his hands atop the desk.
"Of course he's sure!" Granger exclaims. She crosses her legs and Draco tries not to let the shiny new heels distract him. The click-click announcing her arrival was a surprise, albeit a welcome one. She had never seemed the sort for heels, always preferring functionality to aesthetic value. These intimidating stilettos were certainly a new development. Draco would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate them.
Currently, she is perched on the edge of his desk, fiddling with a quill she picked up from it. The shoes draw his attention to her petite frame, accentuating her slim legs to where the fitted skirt ends just above her knee. Perfect regulation length.
Draco gulps, looking away. Fuck, he really likes those damn shoes.
He sighs, "I wish I wasn't serious. The symbol feels reminiscent of something familiar. It certainly has the potential to be some old family crest. It could easily be an heirloom of sorts." Draco takes out a small box and pops it open. The serpent ring gleams under the light—he really hasn't been able to put it back on once he got more involved with the case. It just hasn't felt right.
Malfoy. Bad Faith.
Draco hands it to Potter. He takes it and holds it up to the light, examining it from all angles.
"What? Are you telling me all these families have dedicated symbolism, and this"—he points to a photograph, a close-up of the symbol in question—"is most likely one of them?"
Draco nods solemnly. "To be more accurate, I'm saying this symbol may just belong to the Malfoy House."
"They can't be reused? Can't someone else use the symbol?"
Draco sighs. "No. It's a matter of tradition. No family would dare impose. It's like how the Blacks name their children after the night sky, or how the Parkinson crest carries a dove feather. I know from my grandmother that the Rosiers have an affinity for black roses."
Potter looks at him, disbelieving. "You realise most families don't brand themselves."
"It's a matter of tradition."
"It's a matter of 'crazy' if you ask me. You ought to be careful; it might run in the family." Potter gives him a once over, exaggerating the movement. "Then again, maybe it's already too late."
"At least I have a family," Draco mumbles.
A scandalized gasp leaves Granger and Potter's body shakes with laughter.
"What? Too much? Too far?" Draco intones, arching a brow inquisitively.
"No, no. That one almost hurt," Potter quips and Draco smirks.
Granger looks at the pair of them in shock. "Boys!" She shakes her head, bewildered by the strange rapport.
Old habits die hard. The duo pride themselves on the delicate balance of snark and amiability. Even with the constant bickering, they manage to make an efficient team. It is quite an unexpected development.
Granger tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear with a sigh. "That said, we still don't know definitively that it belongs to your family."
Today, she has twisted her hair into some kind of intricate braid held back with a ribbon. The light gold interwoven through the strands shimmers each time she moves. It's subtle enough, but it is driving him insane.
Draco has already wasted entirely too much time thinking about how to undo it.
"—as well?"
The question breaks him out of his reverie.
YOU ARE READING
And She Was Golden
Fanfiction[Dramione Fic] Their eyes meet just for a fraction of a moment, and that's all it takes. All his boxes and walls come crashing down. He's always been weak in the face of her reality- no matter how furiously he would deny it. Breathe in. Draco Malfoy...
