Promises Kept, Hearts Full of Trust

14

After a while, I reluctantly stepped out of the bathtub, wrapping myself in a plush navy towel.

Prioritising the essentials, I started with brushing my teeth.

Next, I found an intricately carved hairbrush on the vanity table, and with each stroke, my hair regained its lustre.

The waves fell gracefully, framing my face in a cascade of midnight silk.

Unfortunately, this look would only last until my hair was going to be dry.

Once satisfied with my hair, I took a look inside the wardrobe.

Opening the ornate doors, I discovered an array of clothing that spoke of a bygone era.

Silk dresses, embroidered robes, and delicate lace garments adorned the hangers.

Eventually, I selected a sleek and sophisticated black dress adorned with three-quarter sleeves, a pleated long skirt, and a classic boatneck neckline.

My beloved black Mary Janes completed the look.

Exiting the bathroom, I found a tray of food on the bed. On it sat a plate of finger sandwiches, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a teapot with an assorted teacup.

With a bright smile I settled onto the edge of the bed, the aroma of the tea teasing my senses.

As I sipped the warm liquid, my thoughts swirled around the impending meeting with the Dark Lord.

The minutes ticked away, and soon, a gentle knock echoed through the room. Narcissa entered, dressed in another attire than earlier.

"Feeling better?" She inquired.

"Yes, thank you." I replied, reaching for the last piece of fruit.

She nodded, her gaze lingering on my face for a moment before she spoke again. "I'm glad to hear that... Are you ready, dear?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

At the same time, we stepped out of the guest room, into the corridor, Draco and his father came from our left, both clad in formal attire and engaged in a conversation that seemed to hold weighty implications.

Mr Malfoy didn't spare me a glance, and instead, had only attention for his wife, offering his hand to her.

But Draco, much like his father in that regard only had eyes for me while his mother gracefully moved towards her husband, her regal presence contrasting sharply with the stoic demeanour of her husband.

As his parents proceeded further, Draco moved closer to me, smiling down at me.

"Your hair's all wild." He said quietly, shaking my waves.

I couldn't help but laugh softly. "I didn't have any of my potions to fix it."

Draco shook his head, his eyes glinting mischievously. "I like it."

Our moment was abruptly interrupted by the commanding voice of his father.

"Draco,"

The atmosphere shifted as Draco's expression hardened. He turned to face his father, the unspoken tension between them reaching its peak.

"Walk before us." Mr Malfoy said tightly.

The directive was unmistakably aimed at Draco alone.

Nevertheless, Draco reached for my hand, our fingers naturally entwining.

With purpose, he walked through the space between his parents, casting a frosty gaze at his father, and made us both take the lead.

My initial instinct was to revel in the defiance Draco showed towards his father.