The Agreement | Draco Malfoy

1.

Preface: Yes, this first chapter is boring. So is the next. In the third chapter, I promise things start to happen. But, as the description of this story reads, MC's life is boring at the start.

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It was a chilly Sunday evening, and I had spent the entire day inside. Inside my own rooms, to be exact. The air that seeped through the window I kept slightly ajar smelled heavy, like it does just before it begins to rain. No sounds were heard from outside, as if even the birds knew something was coming and had sought refuge.

The trees lining our driveway were almost completely naked by now, having shed all their leaves in the past weeks. The wind had also started picking up speed, as it did in autumn. The noise as it hit the corners of our house sounded like whispering ghouls.

A court knock on the door interrupted my thinking.

"Yes?"

The door swung open to reveal our house-elf, Sonny. "A message for you, Milady."

"I'm busy. Please leave it on my dresser."

Small footsteps echoed through my room, and the near-silent sound of paper meeting the mahogany wood of my dresser could be heard.

"Can I do anything else for you, Milady?" I looked up from my toenails to the ragged house-elf now standing in the middle of my room, its hands clasped in front of it.

"No thank you, that will be all."

"Milady." With a little nod that sent its ears bobbing, the elf slowly backed out of my room and disappeared down the halls. I counted the steps until it rounded a corner and got out of earshot. Twenty-six.

Even though I had told the elf I was too busy to read the contents of the letter, my curiosity got the better of me. I placed the brush back into the small glass bottle that held the contents of my nail polish and hobbled over to where the letter had been placed, careful not to destroy the freshly painted, dark red coat on my left foot.

The paper of the envelope looked immaculate, most likely of the best quality available. It was sealed with royal green wax, and stamped with what looked like a family crest. The address had been written in meticulous letters in black ink.

I broke the green seal carefully, so as not to sever it in two, and pulled the contents out. The envelope contained a thick card that was decorated with depictions of slithering ivy along the edges. At the top of the card, with large, thick letters stood:

You have been invited,

I cocked an eyebrow and caught myself momentarily forgetting to keep my toes thoroughly separated as the nail polish dried. In smaller lettering underneath it continued:

To attend the Malfoy family's annual All Hallows Eve soirée hosted at Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, on the eve of 31 October, 8.00 o'clock in the evening.

31 October was three weeks away. I put the card back into the envelope and hobbled back to the ottoman I had previously been sitting on. Questions were popping into my head as I once again unscrewed the bottle of nail polish.

Never before had I specifically been invited to the Malfoys' soirée, though my father had attended multiple times. Before the war, I had heard that the soirées were immensely lavish with long guest lists, and receiving an invitation was considered a great honour. Nowadays, though, not much was heard about the Malfoy family's parties. Most likely because a large portion of their influential friends now were incarcerated. But, considering the quality of the invitation card, I assumed that the festivities were no less lavish than before.