- ᴀ ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟғᴏʏ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
Draco lifts his head up, shooting a glance towards his left to the witch staring shamelessly at him, his pale eyes settling on her, grunting irritably,
"Do you ever mind your own business?"
Oonagh pondered silently, tuc...
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𝕿o Narcissa Malfoy, the low voices of teenage boys drifting through the hallways of the manor was a Christmas present in itself.
It breaks up the eerie silence, the emptiness, the loneliness that comes with a house so enormous it would take more than hundreds to overcrowd. Somehow the occupancy of the Death Eaters popping in and out all through the day and night had only made matters worse. Darker, gloomier, grimmer. Trimming up for Yule all grand and ornate hadn't crossed her mind this year, unlike the ones before, it didn't feel right. Not in these times. And she didn't exactly favour the chance of her garlands being splattered with blood if the Dark Lord lost his temper.
It didn't feel like Christmas at all. Not until she hears Draco and his best friends chattering away in his chambers, like old times.
She strides down the hallway, heels clicking quietly as she goes, not wanting to disturb them. The door's ever so slightly ajar, just enough to peep an watchful eye through and soak up the sight.
Theo and Blaise are set out across from each other, engaging in a rather slow, relaxed game of Wizard's Chess. If it were any other day, they'd be ruthlessly competitive, goading one another to brawls like teenage boys do. That would be if the game of chess was the keynote of what's occurring. Something intuitive tells Narcissa it isn't, she knows for sure, when Draco's appearance from his lavish walk-in wardrobe grabs their attention immediately.
"Do you have them?"
Blaise rubs the neatly kept five o'clock shadow of his chin, chocolate eyes, to some degree, narrowing down on Draco as he tells, "You know I had to go to another country. Italy"
Theo points to him, revealing that he too was in a similar boat, "Paris. Very cold and busy this time of year, Malfoy"
"You've holidayed out of it, you should be thanking me" Draco shrugs, leaning backwards against the wall, hands tucked snuggly into his trouser pockets.
A smirk teases his mouth, watching as his friend's exchange a long glance, because he knows. He absolutely knows, that this little task he's handed them, wasn't all that troubling as they're both posing. If anything, they enjoyed the fuss it caused, found it exciting and thrilling, to be doing something benevolent, a sharp contrast to the horrors back at school. When they finally settle their gazes back on him, his ring adorned hands find their way out of his pockets, outstretching to them expectantly.
If Narcissa's intrigue hadn't piqued before, it definitively had now, pale eyes eagerly fleeting over the boys diving into their pockets for whatever Draco's demanding. She doesn't know quite what to expect, her son's always been an enigmatic soul, even to her as his mother. Perhaps something dangerous and tricky, if it involves other countries and his friends doing the dirty work. Or possibly something pretty for the one, she wonders, remembering that Christmas is only days away.
