Until the end Dramione

Chapter 08 Dullness

The sun had risen. The rays coming through the curtains woke Draco, who was still wrapped in his heavy silver blanket. Although he wanted to stay there longer, the entrance of an elf in his room forced him to get up. He was wearing "traditional" pajamas; a purple and blue striped shirt and pants, which completely erased his serious look. But he didn't keep it for long because he immediately rushed under the shower to receive on his body the heat of the drops of water which slipped slowly along his satiny skin. He closed the eyes to benefit from the good mad which this moment procured to him during which his wet blond hair tended almost towards gold.

After finishing, the Slytherin came out of the bathroom, a robe covering his body. He smelled of glycerin soap but soon sprayed himself with a musk perfume. He sat down on his bed after ordering an elf to put his clothes on it, then, forearms on his knees, fingers crossed, the tall blond looked into the void, wet hair combed back. How would the vacations go? Lucius' return might spoil the time he still had to spend alone with his mother. Plus, Granger's absence would complicate everything; not thinking about her was IMPOSSIBLE for him. He congratulated himself on his ability to hide his feelings or even his train of thought, because he would have betrayed himself many times over if he hadn't. So, his face was neutral; not a smile, not a frown, not a sigh. Nothing. He was thinking. That was enough.

After getting dressed, he shared a nice breakfast with his mother. Although... it was strange to talk about breakfast "with someone" when that person was at the other end of the table that was at least two and a half meters long. In this situation, it was certain that a dialogue was not possible. And when there is no dialogue, there is no rapprochement.

Later that afternoon, while he was quietly reading a book in his living room, an elf came and interrupted him:

- Master...

- Can't you see that I'm busy, useless thing?" replied Draco in a weary and indifferent tone.

- Master, Smil knows that Master is busy. But Smil brings an important letter to Sir.

- Put it here... It must be my mother's.

- Smil doesn't want to disturb Mister, the elf continued in his broken voice.

- I don't want you to disturb me either, so we agree on that. Leave.

Smil did so after placing the letter on the coffee table as his master had indicated.

Night was falling fast on Malfoy Manor. It was already dinner time.

Narcissa Malfoy sat down, still well-groomed and dressed. Her son did the same, at the other end of the long table. His mother, who didn't appreciate the distance, ordered an elf to move Draco's place settings closer to hers so that they could talk without worry. However, after a "Bon appetit!", no more words came out of their mouths. It was Narcissa who decided to break the silence:

- I saw Smil bring something this afternoon.

- Yes," her son agreed. It was a letter.

- What did it say?

- I didn't read it. I thought it was for you.

- Smil!" called Mrs. Malfoy. Bring me the letter that came this afternoon!

The skinny little elf retrieved the letter and handed it to the lady of the house in a silver tray. She opened it in front of Draco, who didn't care in the least. But when he saw his mother's expression when she read it, he asked:

- Mother? What's the matter?

He expected to hear his mother announce that his father would return the next day and that "his plan" would be implemented at the same time. It didn't.