𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒

XVIII

Act XVIII.

Claude os, aperi oculos.

Shut your mouth, open your eyes.

Lucius Malfoy strode into the dining room early the next day, surprised to see his wife already having breakfast. “My, Narcissa, you’re up early today. It’s barely dawn yet, darling. Usually, you’d still be fast asleep, especially seeing how late you got in last night.” Lucius greeted his wife with a chaste kiss on her cheek.

“I could hardly sleep after he left. I might as well get up and go about my day,” Narcissa replied with a sweet smile. “Besides, I do miss these early mornings with you.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow in suspicion at her as he took his seat. His wife was being unnaturally cheerful today, especially since she’d been giving him more or less the silent treatment after the brat’s disownment. Sipping on his tea, he observed her carefully, watching as she chattered gaily about idle gossip.

“Oh, and I told Draco yesterday about the St. Claire’s Summer Gala last week; you know, the one that was dreadfully boring? It was really quite a shame since I know Clarisse spent so many Galleons on it, but-”

“Narcissa, what did I tell you about uttering that name under this roof?” he demanded as he slammed his fist on the table.Ah I should have known it was the brat that was making her so goddamn cheerful, he thought in distaste. Well, at least she’s no longer sulking.

Rolling her eyes, she picked up her teacup. “Oh fine. If you insist on being such a child about it, I won’t mention your son’s name.”

Snorting, Lucius merely drank his tea, missing the smirk that tugged at the corners of his wife’s lips as she watched him avidly until he had drained his cup.

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Harry yawned grumpily as he hopped on one foot while trying to get his other leg into his trousers. He had woken up late and had missed breakfast and lunch. He was more than a little bit famished. He hoped and prayed that there was still some food left. After all, a hungry and brooding Harry Potter did not bode well for most people within a twenty mile radius. Bloody Hermione and her stupid confusing lectures! He cursed her in his head. After all, if he hadn’t stayed up half the night listing the many different ways Hermione had been wrong, so horribly wrong, with her ‘in love with Malfoy’ theory, then he would have gotten a decent night’s sleep! He also cursed the stupid blonde git, because if Harry hadn’t gotten up at the crack of dawn in the silly arse hope that said stupid Slytherin would show up to honour their standing appointment then he would’ve been able to make up for last night’s horrendous session of tossing and turning. But of course, the Twitchy Little Ferret hadn’t shown, making good on his little temper tantrum. Stupid childish bastard! He thought angrily as he threw on the cleanest shirt he could find and stomped off towards the kitchens, only to come face to face with the idiot himself.

Draco groaned as he bumped into something solid, his temper already flaring from the sleepless night he’d had to endure. For some reason he didn’t understand, he had found himself awake at the crack of dawn. He had staunchly ignored the sun rising outside his window and had in fact employed various sleeping aids but to no avail. He had even tried counting dragons, for Merlin’s sake! Nothing had been able to ease him back to sleep and he cursed a certain Gryffindor for it. He groaned a second time as he looked up and caught sight of just who was blocking his way. Fuck. It figures it would have to be him. He thought in dismay. Growling low in his throat, when a few awkward moments had ticked by and the Gryffindor still hadn’t moved, Draco snapped, “If you’re quite done imitating a wall, Potter, I’d like to be able to get to the kitchens sometime today. Now move!”