The Devil | D.M 18+

Chapter 8

Evie understood why Draco loved eating sweets.

Because his whole personality was bloody sour.

Merlin, those who could stomach fresh molasses would flinch. Draco really liked sugar.

She could barely eat the whole block of double chocolate rocky road.

Two types of marshmallow with gingerbread biscuits and some type of jellied raisin, and a chocolate crumb base. Topped with drizzled white chocolate, of course.

"Master Draco could eat a whole box in one sitting, apparently," Willow said, adding a nervous laughter. "With a pot of tea, that boy could eat an entire confectionary palace."

Willow was a personal house elf, bought by Lucius Malfoy as a gift despite never once meeting. To my beautiful future daughter-in-law. In hopes of meeting soon. The letter said.

Neither Narcissa, nor Draco ever mentioned him until Willow arrived. Until then, she simply assumed he died.

The return address wasn't of any familiarity either.

The ancient cavern beneath Elijah.

Whatever it meant, Evie suspected it as some form of test. Thus, she threw the letter in the fireplace, storing the strange description and accepted Willow with warm arms.

Half of her left ear was missing from what appeared to be a ravish dog bite that didn't heal well. It'd been hidden beneath a row of golden hoops which Evie later learned was a new implemented system by the Dark Lord to determine how useful a house elf was.

The more hoops, the more one can do and the more fit for a royal to rich family. Evie felt lucky to have someone as cheerful and talented as Willow. And not as skittish as Tiskey — who had one hoop less than her.

Her frock was tattered and dirty. The incredible temptation to dress her in something clean was all too overwhelming. 

But as if Willow could hear her thoughts, she'd click her fingers and smile. "Willow is only to service Mistress Evie who has shown nothing but kindness. It is the greatest gift Willow can ask for beside Willow's name."

Whilst Willow accustomed to Evie's routine, learning along the way how precise she liked things, Evie studied and crammed as much information as she could.

She wrote letters, one to Lucius with his ominous address as an act of gratitude. Hopefully, it'd land in the right place.

Another to Severus, demanding extra lessons to help bring her magic back. Two per week wasn't enough and if she needed to impress everyone around after falling short, she'd have to work twice as hard to re-earn their respects.

She'd written to Pansy, organising their breakfast ritual and noted down on her calender journal Willow had bought earlier that day to book an afternoon with Narcissa to visit Knockturn Alley soon.

A soft knock pulled Evie's attention.

"Come in," she called.

The door creaked open behind her. Two bouldering footsteps echoed, causing the floor to whine beneath its weight.

"Today isn't Saturday," they said, walking closer. Evie smiled at the familiarity of his voice.

Although they'd barely met, she already felt comfortable around him. As though their friendship bled through whatever barrier held her memories back. In that moment, she knew that whatever trust she had with him before, remained.

Her memory could've gone, but the soul knew when it could trust another.

Theodore leaned at the edge of her mahogany desk and folded his arms over his chest. "So," he continued, "I am ever so curious why you wrote."