Murder to Malfoy - D.MALFOY

[38]

After spending a few days without him, instead hanging out with Blaise and Fin in the garden, Ivy had a face full of freckles and the very tops of her arms were just about developing into a tan from the previous itchy sunburn. Draco turned up at her door after the takeaway evening most days of the week, sometimes unannounced but most of the time planned. She felt this sort of need to give him an outlet from that house, it was a weird need but a one all the same. She would often find her mind wondering about how he was faring while he was not here, hoping that Lucius hadn't gotten severely angered and killed him off too. She kept telling herself (and Fin) that it was just because she needed someone on the inside to help her get him incarcerated but Fin did not believe it for a second.

On a warm day at the very beginning of august, Draco walked into her bathroom while Ivy sat in the window seat in an attempt to cool herself down. Despite the summer dress she wore, the heat had begun to lick at her body and had reached such comfortable levels that she had honestly considered shoving ice down her bra. Draco walked out of the bathroom just as she was about to climb out of it to lay back in the sun, cologne bottle in hand while a furrowed brow took over his usual content expressions, "Whose is this? Boyfriend?"

She laughed softly, looking back out of the window as she blatantly ignored his tone of voice, "No, not that it's any of your business but it's Blaise's."

His brow raised now, tone of an undetectable emotion showing clear through his voice, "He keeps cologne in your bathroom?"

"I keep it in there for him, as well as the fragrance that Fin likes. Just in case either of them needs it, after staying over or just on a whim," she shrugged before disappearing onto the balcony, laying on the hammock that she had hung there a few days ago for the optimum reading in the sun experience.

Minutes later, he popped his head out of the window with another bottle in hand. An intricately designed pale blue glass bottle that curved and twisted into a small vase shape, bubbles visible in the bottle. "And this one?"

"Jeez you're curious this afternoon," she exhaled softly, fighting the smile that pulled at her cheeks. "That's mine, I bought it the last time I stayed in the house in France." As he walked back into the bathroom, he lifted the bottle to his nose and smelled the vague remnants of the perfume that lay there. His eyes widened with shock once he recognised the familiarity of the scent and he gently put it back down, glass clinking against the surface of the sink.

-

Later in the afternoon, well the beginning of the evening where the sun had disappeared behind a cloud and the world had gotten refreshingly colder, Ivy and Draco went for a walk outside. Was it partly to avoid her Maman and her thousands of questions? Yes, but neither of them would ever admit to that. They walked halfway down the garden finishing the conversation they were having before they left the house, a session of reminiscing that ended in laughter that hurt her stomach over remembering something embarrassing that he did when they were younger - falling in the lake and coming back out with pond weed tangled in his hair. It seemed so odd to her now, to have broken off such an intense friendship just because of a small disagreement and because of both their stubbornness, that single argument had enveloped into a hatred that they both carried for years. She wondered what her life would look like if they had just both apologised, whether it would be completely different to now. She certainly wouldn't have considered killing him for so long, maybe Antony wouldn't have even been killed. Thinking like that would soon eat her alive yet she couldn't help it.

As her laughter died down, the air between them suddenly turned serious as he sighed deeply. "I ran into him today, after actually leaving my bedroom to go and get food."

Worry flicked in the back of her mind, unconsciously moving mere millimetres closer to him as they continued down the path that lead past the pond he once fell into. "Oh?"

"I couldn't even look at him, once again. Then he got angry that I couldn't even look him in the eye," he responded a little softer than before, intently listening to the sound of the birds in the shaking trees above their heads.

"Shit," she blurted, feeling awful for putting him into such a situation. "Sorry."

His brow furrowed once again, "Why? It's not your fault."

"Well it kind of is, you wouldn't be-"

"No, it's not your fault. You didn't ask for this, it's his own fault," he ranted, taking a deep breath after the quickened words left his mind without as much as a second thought. Ivy turned her head as they walked, peering at him as a million different and contradictory thoughts changed her entire perspective.

"What?"

"Nothing," she cleared her throat, brushing the sudden confusion off as if it had meant nothing. When in reality it was a certain pivot in her entire understanding of who he was.  She saw him without the lingering Lucius that had always seemed so obvious before. No longer was he Draco Malfoy, to her he was just Draco. Draco without the awful characteristics of his father. A sweeter, kinder version that she hadn't witnessed since third year.

He, in an attempt to escape from looking into her eyes once more, went to turn back and look down to the grass but found his gaze lingering on her upper arms. Amongst the freckles and slightly burnt skin lay hundreds of tiny goosebumps, sticking the hair on her arms upward. He frowned and soon realised how cold it was and how she had hugged her arms close to her body, lip quivering ever so slightly. He took off his jacket and handed it to her. "Oh no, I'm okay," she smiled softly, feeling bad for absolutely everything she had ever put him through. It wasn't like it was all her fault, she just couldn't see how she had gotten so blinded by past memories that she yeared to get to kill him before. In short, she was questioning every decision and felt as if she was going through the works all the while desperately craving a cigarette that could get her head straight.

"You're freezing, I can tell," he repassed her the jacket but she remained stubborn, refusing to take it. Instead, he draped it over her shoulders while continuing, "Come on Cadieux, just take it. The teeth chatterings getting annoying." She chuckled softly and begrudgingly put her arms into the sleeves. already becoming warm due to the heat that still lingered inside.

"Gods I need a cigarette," she sighed softly, struggling to keep herself somewhat composed. Over the days, she had forced herself to linger outside of Antony's room for longer and longer each time. In doing so she gathered that one of the days she would have plucked up the energy to walk into the room like she so severely wanted to, yet not such day had come. It was draining, to say the least, and with constant guests, she didn't have a chance to go through it all. "Or alcohol."

He shrugged, too distracted by the greenery to notice the glassiness her eyes had taken on, "Alcohol's probably the better option of the two."

"Or cheesecake, oh hell yes chocolate cheesecake."

He smiled to himself, wiping it away before he turned back to her, "Cheesecake?"

"Maybe with caramel Cadburys on top," she suggested, painting the picture her mind and becoming increasingly hungry due to the smell of chocolate that enveloped her nose.

"That does sound good."

"You down to make a cheesecake?" she asked hopefully, looking toward him for an answer. He shrugged and nodded, looking about as interested as a sleepy person is in waking up in the morning. "Great enthusiasm there," she exhaled softly, laughing to herself.

He smirked, "Would you like me to start screaming with enthusiasm about making a cheesecake?"

"I would actually," she replied with a raised brow, just about able to picture exactly how it would go down. Unfortunately, they were too far from the pond for him to fall in, though it would be rather hilarious.

He took a deep breath, jokingly preparing himself for some sort of speech when the air fell from his lungs.bHe shrugged, smirk returning. "Not going to happen."

"Rude!"