𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 [Draco×OC]

EPILOGUE AND SEQUEL.

２００５

The mornings at the manor had felt different since Ángeles moved in. Not the manor itself, of course; those walls still held echoes, old memories and secrets, and a perpetual silence seemed to linger in every corner. But Ángeles had a way of bringing life back into this place, and she made sure her energy was felt even in the hallways she avoided. She was always in a good mood, singing Muggle songs she claimed were 'cumbia' or something like that, an American genre. She'd returned with many customs from Argentina after going back there to study psychology.

As I sipped my tea and glanced over some work papers, I watched the scene before me: Ángeles was cooking alongside 'Mr. Toby,' the house-elf who had recently entered our lives. He was much more serious than Dobby, but he had quickly taken a liking to Ángeles. Toby addressed her as 'miss' with a bow, a genuine respect she had earned without any effort.

"Miss, the water is ready, would you like Mister Toby to add the rest of the vegetables to the soup?" he asked, raising his large, dark eyes toward her.

"Thank you, Toby," she replied warmly, picking up a knife and starting to chop the carrots with precision, using her hands. I couldn't understand why she did this, but she said she trusted her hands more than magic when it came to food. "You know, you don't need to call me 'miss.' You can call me Ángeles, or Angie if you prefer something less formal."

But Toby, ever stubborn, shook his head quickly.

"No, no, Miss. Mister Toby will call you properly. You are very kind to Mister Toby."

She let out a small laugh, and although her focus returned to the vegetables, her smile remained, shining brightly. For me, seeing her in such a simple, happy state was a relief, something I clung to tightly. Years ago, I never would have imagined I'd be witnessing this scene: my future wife (oh, didn't I tell you? There was already a formal engagement, with a party and a big ring), cooking while joking with a house-elf.

"What do you think, Mister Toby? I am officially the new psychologist at St. Mungo's!" she said suddenly, unable to hide her excitement. "I'm not sure if I told you."

Toby began clapping and jumping with joy.

"Mister Toby is very happy for Miss!"

A warmth stirred in my chest, perhaps pride, and I couldn't help but smile-a reaction still not as natural to me as it was to her.

"I couldn't be prouder of you," I told her from the table. "Now the entire wizarding world will be able to benefit from your brilliant mind."

She shrugged, never losing that spark of humility that always defined her.

"I don't know if it's brilliant... I just know that someone needed to think about this. It was time for someone to talk about mental health in the wizarding world, especially after everything that happened with the war... It's great that Shacklebolt listened to me!"

She was not only going to be St. Mungo's first psychologist, but, alongside Minister Shacklebolt, she had initiated a specialized mental health program for wizards who survived the magical war or who had lost loved ones. She had studied at a Muggle university in Buenos Aires, something I was never fully on board with. I always told her I could pay her education in Europe if she wanted, but she insisted on attending the same Muggle university her father had gone to. She wanted to be close to her parents, even if only for a few days. Even so, she often used a Portkey to return to the manor to sleep and study or sometimes went to Brazil with Circe, her best friend from Castelobruxo. The nights without her were difficult, but I knew she was fulfilling her dream, so I supported her wholeheartedly.