𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓖𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 || 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

Chapter 25 - Young Master Malfoy

            Lucius held the trembling girl in his arms, her naked body quivering against his as she silently sobbed into him, her caramel laced curls tickling his bare chest. He breathed into her coiling hair as his hand rubbed gently at her back, his silky finger tips gliding over her soft skin.

            "She won't hurt you... not even one hair on your head." Lucius murmured into the top of her head, as he planted a delicate kiss upon her.

            "Easy for you to say..." Ophelia sniffled as she pushed herself free from his hold, she rubbed at her cheeks, eliminating the teary evidence of her terror. "She didn't have her wand at your cheek, at your neck."

            Ophelia looked away, surveying the pile of clothes and bedding at the foot of the large bed.

            "She's all hiss and no bite." Lucius breathed reassuringly as he stroked her shoulder gently, his thumb tracing patterns into her bronzed olive skin.

            "Well, it didn't feel like it when she was threatening to kill me, I really thought she was going to do it... and I'd deserve it too." Ophelia shook her head into her hands, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to release once again. What had she done? Destroyed a marriage, a family. A rock-hard ball of brewing guilt built in her stomach, and threatened to reach up her throat.

            "No, you wouldn't, you have nothing to feel guilty for, if anyone should feel any kind of guilt, it should be me." Lucius told her firmly as he gently pried her hands away from her beautiful face, and he looked deep into her shining emerald eyes. Tears had dampened her cheeks once again. "But I don't feel guilty, not about Narcissa. Not after all she has done. I have purged myself of any and all guilt, she does not deserve it."

            "How did you do it? Push away that twisty feeling inside?" Ophelia asked in a whisper. Lucius reached for her cheek, brushing away her fallen tears.

            "I buried it deep. Deep, deep down inside myself, it ate away at me for a while, or it tried, so I pushed it deeper, to a forgotten place. It's still there, that twisty horrid feeling, but it's so far away now, I can barely feel it, remember it."

***

            Ophelia had to make a mad dash to her quarters, her naked body wrapped in her glittering ballgown, her bare feet padding on the cold floors. She hoped and prayed she wouldn't run into Draco as she quickly bolted for the stairs, thankfully this time things were going her way and she made it to her little room without even a house elf spying the sight of her.

            She'd showered off the dirty feeling that coated her skin, but it didn't make her feel any cleaner. In the jumbled pile she'd balled up around her body she found the necklace. That obscenely expensive necklace, the one Lucius had gifted her. Its glittering rock sized diamonds were heavy in her hands, as if they bore the weight of her guilt, of the terrible things she had done. Blood diamonds, soaked in the spill of the family she had torn apart. She sighed as she discarded it on her bedside drawers. She would return it to Lucius when the opportunity to not add insult to his gift came, how could she keep such a thing?

            Finally, she emerged from the stone stairs into the large dining hall, fresh as a daisy. As the time neared midday, she had expected to spy Draco at the table tucking into cereal, or even a pastry, or a pumpkin pasty. But he was not there. Curious. They were due to restart their lessons that day, and had already missed what she had planned for the morning. Ophelia hummed to herself curiously and headed for the stairs, it was a late night, or early morning depending on how you looked at it, a tiring bedtime for most adults, never mind children. She told herself the boy was probably still in bed, recovering from his night of fun, she hadn't had the chance to ask him how his night was, what he had got up to under the care of the child minders, and how things had gone with those two girls. A soft smile formed on Ophelia's lips as she climbed the stairs. He was so much like his father in some ways, even at such a tender age, he was already a ladies' man.

            "Draco? Good morning, well afternoon nearly." Ophelia smiled lightly, her voice barely louder than a whisper as she knocked upon his door and cracked it open. The curtains were drawn closed, a tiny slither of golden sunlight illuminating a strip on the wall amongst the darkness. "Draco? Are you up?" Ophelia called. No response, with a sly smile she entered the room, approached the curtains and took them in her hands silently. With a silent deep breath, she threw them open, and jumped around for Draco's reaction the pool of bright light flashing into the room.

            "Good morning!" Ophelia beamed, her smile warm and wide.

            But her face dropped instantly, the smile fading from her face. The boy's bed was empty.

            With furrowed brows she turned back to the window, and tried to spy the boy out on his pint sized quidditch pitch. But the boy wasn't there either.

            "Dobby?" Ophelia called hesitantly to the deserted room, despite living and working in grand manors over the years, she had never summoned a house elf before.

            Pop!

            The nervous little house elf appeared before her instantly, as if he had heard her name on the silent draft that flowed through the house.

            "Miss Oakham needs something?" The elf asked, twiddling his little fingers in his shivering hands.

            "I'm looking for Draco, have you seen him?"

            "Dobby has not seen the young master Malfoy today; Dobby can locate him for you?" The elf offered.

            Ophelia nodded. "Please."

            Pop.

            The house elf vanished as quickly as he had arrived.

            Ophelia looked about the boy's room as she waited. It was immaculate, not a book or toy out of place, everything was so neat. It wasn't like a young boy's room at all. Books lined the shelves, in alphabetical order. Magazines filed orderly in a little rack. Toys and gadgets were in labelled crates on the dresser. Everything was spotless. The result of a traditional draconian upbringing in a prestigious household. As immaculate as the room was, something felt out of place...

            Ophelia narrowed her eyes on the bed, its duvet strewn carelessly, draping lazily over the end of the wooden frame, the crisp white fitted sheet was pulling away at one corner, the feather filled pillows crooked, one hanging dangerously over the edge of the mattress, threatening to fall to the floor. Ophelia swallowed. Draco always made his bed. Always.

            Pop!

            The house elf returned sharply, a worried, anxious look on his face. In his large shining eyes Ophelia could only see fear, and worry.

            "Where is he please Dobby?" Ophelia asked, her brows lowered as she pressed her lips together tightly. Something felt amiss.

            "Miss Oak-Oakham..." Dobby trembled. "Dobby cannot find the young master Malfoy."

            "Is he on the grounds, on his broom perhaps?" Ophelia asked. The boy did love flying.

            "D-Dobby has searched the house and the grounds Miss Oakham; the young master Malfoy is not here."

            Ophelia's breathing halted, her breath stuck in her throat. She battled to inhale, eventually gasping in a large slice of air.

            "Then... w-where is he, where did he go?" Ophelia asked, her hands beginning to tremble at her side.

            Dobby's lips began to wobble... "D-Dobby does not know."