11th March
The flight back to the manor was exceptionally tense. Malfoy didn't say a word. Nothing. Not a fucking sentence. The only sound Hermione could hear the entire journey home was the cold air howling around her ears and the occasional flap of Narcissa's wings.
And Malfoy's mood didn't improve when they got home. As soon as Narcissa touched the ground and she let them climb off her back, Malfoy was off, storming towards the manor like he intended to murder anyone and anything who crossed his path.
Narcissa whined after him and dropped her head, visibly anxious and worried.
Hermione soothingly stroked her snout before she went after Malfoy.
"Malfoy?" she called when they were halfway through the gardens. "Are you alright?"
He didn't answer her.
She struggled to keep up with his long, furious strides, practically had to break into a small run to match his pace. She tried to call him again as they approached the house, and again, he ignored her, didn't even pause to look over his shoulder.
When he got to the back door that led into the kitchen, he still hadn't spoken, and he swung the door open so angrily it was a miracle he didn't pull the bloody thing off its hinges.
Romy was already inside the kitchen, standing on a tall wooden stool and hovering over the island, covered in flour and happily chopping potatoes which he would probably be serving for dinner.
The kitchen was Romy's happy place, so Hermione wasn't surprised to find him there, but she was surprised to find Astoria standing beside him, a glass of red wine in hand and wearing a pink apron (that matched her dress perfectly) and equally as covered in flour as Romy's was.
Astoria's illness came over her in waves, one day she was completely depleted and too exhausted to get out of bed, and the next, she seemed a lot better and would waltz around in heels. Today - judging from her perfect hair and makeup - must have been a good day. She got so few of them lately, so it was nice to see her up and about.
Romy stopped chopping, and Astoria's perfect brows furrowed as Malfoy storm passed them.
"Malfoy?!" Hermione called to him again.
Still, she didn't get a response.
He charged across the kitchen, completely ignoring everyone. He was so angry that his magic started to lash out. The lights started to flicker overhead. The pans and cooking equipment that were laid across the kitchen island started to rattle and vibrate.
Astoria gave Hermione a concerned look when an empty glass popped open and shattered without being touched.
Malfoy got to the door on the opposite end of the kitchen and curled his hand around the handle, ready to go crashing into the hallway and probably destroy the portraits -
"Draco?!" He paused. The pans and cutlery stopped shaking.
"I'm fine." He still had his back to the room, but she heard him release a slow breath before he looked over his shoulder at her. "I just need to get started on how we're going to get the medallion."
"Why, what's happening with the medallion?" Astoria asked, fingers tightening around the stem of the wine glass in her hand. "What the bloody hell happened at the meeting?! I thought everything was going well?"
Malfoy clenched his jaw, so Hermione answered for him. "The Order wants to move up the plan. They want the medallion by the end of March."
Astoria's eyes widened and her breath hitched slightly. "That's ... rather soon. Is it possible? To get it to them that early?"
YOU ARE READING
Secrets and Masks
Fanfiction"If you weren't so important to The Dark Lord, I'd kill you right now" "If I still had my wand, you'd be dead already" Nine years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the war rages on. Voldemort is triumphant, but The Order continue to fight. Whilst on a...
