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December 25th, 1995
Narcissa's ultimatum plagues me as we sit down for dinner, Malfoy across from me and my Mother at my side. Lucius and my Father occupy their usual seats at the heads of the table. Malfoy smirks as Lucius taps his glass, signaling for a toast. Lucius' toasts are infamous for sowing discourse at the table.
An awful five-minute spiel follows, filled with nods to our upcoming engagement, our success at Hogwarts, and thinly veiled suggestions of the Dark Lord's renewed rise to power. Draco kicks me in the leg and subtly rolls his eyes at one point. I have to work to hold in my laugh.
Once enemies, we're now thick as thieves at the dinner table, bonded by our mutual disdain for our parents' meddling. Egged on by their further descent into bigotry and madness.
Roast appears on our plates when the toast at last concludes. I pick at it delicately as the conversation moves to how our first term was. I speak when spoken to but largely let my mind drift away from the conversation, staring at the boy across from me and mulling over my conversation with Narcissa.
I watch him take a bite of his roast, my eyes focused on his lips. This is twisted. I wish I could shut my brain off for just a moment.
I think of his incessant nagging at school. His taunts and his endless need to best me. I remember him shouting at Hermione in third year. Of all the nights spent at this very table, watching him brag and boast and nod along with all of his Father's horrid notions. I smile, feeling thoroughly brought back to Earth.
I hardly notice until we've transitioned into society news that Malfoy doesn't mention how I'm dreadfully unprepared for the N.E.W.T levels in Ancient Runes.
My brain rushes back to all of the pleasant nights I've had with him. Swimming in the prefect's bathroom, dancing at the ball, studying in the library, talking quietly on rounds.
His brow furrows as he catches me staring at him. Alright? His eyes say. I nod quickly and focus back in to the conversation, looking at who's speaking.
"We had the pleasure of hosting the Parkinson's last night," Lucius says. His eyes are matched with my Father's, an unspoken exchange of power occurring.
My eyes flick back to Draco's. I see his face pale. He clearly was unprepared for this topic to come up.
"Oh, really?" My Father says. His brow raises and his knife digs into his roast.
"They're such dear friends," Narcissa smiles, resting her hand on the table.
"Yes, yes," Lucius nods, taking a sip of his wine. "They have such a lovely daughter as well."
Narcissa meets my eye. She knew this was coming. I realize our earlier conversation served two purposes; it was also a warning.
"I'm sure they do," my Mother says, her voice tense. "Do they know who they plan to match her with?" Her anxiety is hidden well enough, but I see her knee bounce under the table.
"They're still," Lucius pauses. Smiles. "Undecided."
"I see." My Father nods, fire in his eyes. I watch Draco's gaze move between everyone's at the table, his features likely mimicking mine. He keeps his face blank, but I can see the fear and uncertainty mounting behind his eyes.
An outsider would never know it, but this seemingly inconsequential small talk is much, much more. To us, it's a clear threat: Everyone is replaceable. Even you.
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Our blinds slam shut as we apparate back into the foyer of our manner, a gust of wind carrying us.
YOU ARE READING
For Better, For Worse
Fanfiction"I take you, Draco Malfoy, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part." Since the time we were children, being betrothed to the Malf...
