'Tell Me Pretty Lies,' by moongirlel

Chapter 47: Red Rose

[Old Money - Lana Del Rey]

༺ 𓆙 ༻
Sun. 24th September 1994 - 5:31pm...

His hand in mine, we sneak out of the castle's grounds, and down the stone pathway to Hogsmeade.

We've been together for months, and somehow me and Draco haven't shared a proper date.

Luckily, earlier today he left a note on my bed, asking me to get ready for a dinner date he's been arranging for a couple of days now.

This side of Hogsmeade was larger than what I had imagined - Homely, too. Cobblestone streets, the fresh smell of wheat bread, butterbeer and sweets from Honeydukes.

He allowed me to pull him in every and any direction, window shopping occasionally in the small boutiques and jewellery shops.

I suspected he was taking note of future gifts, but every time I asked him, he denied it numerous times.

Reaching the heart of the town, he took the lead, bringing me to a well lit restaurant. Gold and red accents on the wooden beams, and a sturdy door with engravings of a lion and two witches and two wizards.

In all honesty, this place radiates wealth and romance.

Draco loves to brag, even with his mouth closed, and the design of this restaurant spoke for itself.

The hostess greets us, marking off Draco's reservation quickly. "Good evening, Mr. Malfoy. Your reservation is ready for you, up the stairs."

Draco nods, looking back at me. "I booked a balcony seat, since it's going to be a clear sky. I thought you might prefer that rather than being stuck inside, yeah?"

"Yes. That's nice," I tighten my hand in his.

The hostess gestures for us to walk with her, and we follow. Reaching the stairs, Draco held my waist as we ascended them, walking behind me.

Our table was secluded, on a balcony with sliding doors. It overlooked a lake and bridge, Hogwarts visible in the distance.

He pulled out my seat, and thanked the hostess. I sat down, and she hands us menus before she left.

Opening my menu, he took his seat opposite me, taking his menu too.

Immediately, my eyes were set on the prices. They were all expensive meals.

How could he even afford a starter meal for us both?

Are his parents truly this rich?

Taking me out of my thoughts, I felt his shoe caressing my ankle underneath the table. I glance up, a tiny smirk on his face, his eyes scanning over the menu.

His eyes met mine, and his eyes shift. "See anything you want?"

"I'm... unfamiliar with half of these meals." I confess, laying the menu flat on the table.

He done the same, reaching across the table. He ran his finger down the mains, "These meals are rich, mild food. While these... are a bit spicy, hot even. The sweet and sour ones are in this column."