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When Devore first met Draco, she was six-years-old and it was fair to say he didn't make a good first impression. Their parents introduced them, and she thought he was going to be exactly like his mother because Narcissa was so kind. But Draco was every bit of nasty and vial like his father. He pushed her down and dirtied her dress, making her cry, and he spent a lot of his time after each encounter teasing her about her hair or what she was wearing, or how she liked to play in the gardens in the dirt because she wasn't lady like.
They weren't friends. Just because their parents were didn't mean they had to be. But they grew up being around each other. They'd have to spend dinners together, accompany their parents to parties, and were even forced to spend holidays together. Devore despised him evacuees she thought he was an arrogant jerk and Draco hated her because she was a spoiled rich girl. But the biggest reason they didn't like each other was because they were almost the exact same. They had everything but still felt like they had nothing.
Things changed the day of Isaac's funeral. Devore had separated herself from everyone, sitting by herself near the lake, the bottom of her dress dirty from the ground but she could care less. They just put her father into the ground. Draco watched her from afar, practically smelling the misery. He didn't understand her situation. Her had both of his parents, even though the love they showed him was different than what Isaac and Chanel showed their children. Perhaps that's also why he disliked her so much. But that didn't mean he didn't feel bad for her.
Lucius taught Draco to always be above everyone else and to never let them see him as powerless. Draco listened to him because he loved him and he wanted to make him proud. He never thought how much trouble it would cause him.
When Draco got close enough to her, he smelled the perfume she was wearing. Cherry blossoms. Devore heard his footsteps and she looked over her shoulder, sighing at his presence. "If you've come here to mess with me I suggest you leave."
Her hair was shorter then. It stopped at her shoulders and it was curly. Draco scoffed. "Please, I'm not completely evil, Taylor. Your father just died."
"Thanks for the reminder."
She picked at the grass. Draco sighed and sat beside her on the ground, his face screwing up at the feeling of the grass stains on his clothes. They sat in silence while she watched the ducks in the pond.
It was probably the worst time for Draco to think she was pretty, but he did. She had grown since the last time they saw each other, her cheekbones now fuller and her eyelashes longer. He felt sick thinking about it. Then he watched her eyes, big and brown, once so spirited and now dull. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Isaac was a good man."
