Draco Malfoy and the Girl Who Hid

38

Draco had barely opened the door when his mother appeared, her cool blue eyes glancing past him to land on Yn. Narcissa looked composed, but there was a hint of fear in the way she held herself, a tension in her shoulders that only softened when she turned her gaze back to her son.

"I thought you both might want some food," she said, her voice soft but carefully measured. She stepped aside, allowing a small line of house-elves to bustle in, trays of food balanced precariously on their tiny hands. Draco nodded, taking one of the trays from the nearest elf and placing it on the table.

Narcissa lingered a moment, her gaze flicking between Draco and Yn. There was something almost hesitant in her expression, like she wanted to say something but held herself back. Yn noticed the faint tremor in her hand as she straightened the cutlery beside one of the trays, her fingers lingering over the polished silver. It was an unusual sight, seeing Narcissa Malfoy look so uncertain. Yn had heard stories of her, how she was poised and elegant, but seeing her now, she could tell that there was a softness there that Draco must have inherited.

"Thank you, Mother," Draco said, breaking the silence as he glanced over the trays. There was a momentary warmth in his tone, something that softened the sharpness that Yn had grown accustomed to hearing in his voice. Narcissa's face softened at his gratitude, her eyes filled with something close to relief. For a brief moment, Yn felt an odd pang, watching them. There was a gentleness between them, a tenderness that she hadn't expected to see in a place like this. She wondered how much Narcissa knew, if she truly understood what her son had been drawn into.

Narcissa smiled faintly and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, squeezing it lightly before turning to leave. She paused, casting a wary glance at Yn, but said nothing as she slipped quietly out of the room, the house-elves trailing behind her. The door clicked shut, leaving Draco and Yn alone once again.

Yn's heart felt strangely warmed by the exchange, a glimmer of humanity in a place she'd assumed held none. She watched Draco as he straightened the silverware, his face briefly unguarded, showing a hint of the boy he might have once been.

"She doesn't agree with what's happening, does she?" Yn asked, her voice steady. "Does she even know what you're doing for her?"

Draco's gaze snapped up, his expression hardening instantly, his face drawn into an expression of cold disapproval. "She knows what she needs to know," he replied tightly, as though that should end the matter. But Yn could tell she'd struck a nerve, a flicker of unease crossing his face before he forced it down.

She held his gaze, feeling the tension build between them. He cleared his throat, as if changing the subject might relieve him of the discomfort. "The scroll you had earlier," he said slowly, his eyes narrowing. "What was in it?"

Yn's face remained impassive, her lips pressed into a firm line.

"So only you are allowed to ask questions?" he said with a sharp edge to her voice.

"Ask something else."

Draco raised an eyebrow, but didn't push further. Instead, he fixed her with a long, appraising stare. "Why didn't you tell Harry when you knew?"

She let out a short, humourless laugh, tilting her head as she met his gaze. "What was the point? He knew anyway. He didn't need me to confirm it."

He scoffed, shaking his head slightly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the table as though grounding himself. "So, what are you planning to do? Stay locked in this room? Because that's where you'll be if you don't think of something."

Yn crossed her arms, leaning back against the window frame. She lifted her chin defiantly, meeting his stare. "Is that what you plan to do with me? Keep me locked in here?"