Chapter 1: Manor Living (Draco)
Dear Vinewood,
I love the rain. The way it streaks down the windows leaving a little crystal maze. The way it transforms boring potholes into playground puddles for kids. It has its own melody, like words uttered in another language. I wish I knew what it meant. Someone out there is trying to tell me something. I know it every time it rains.
Yours,
Silverhawk
Draco Malfoy tied the note to the leg of his owl and slid open the window, letting the fresh smell of rain into his bedroom. The owl fluttered into the foggy morning.
He had joined the Secret Owl Post program on a dare from Blaise Zabini. The dare was only to try it once. He'd been owling the same person for a month now. They didn't share personal information. Heck, he didn't even know the girl's real name. All he knew was that she was a girl and a wizard – and that she was clever, funny and absolutely delightful.
“Draco, dear!” his mother's shrill voice exploded through the door. “Come down for breakfast. And be presentable, please.”
“Coming, Mother,” he replied before tugging on a pair of pressed black pants and a white shirt. He knotted a silk tie into tight triangle and squeezed it around his neck. Draco tossed on his leather jacket and slipped on his shiny black dress shoes. When Narcissa Malfoy said “presentable” she meant black-tie formal.
Draco looked at his reflection in the window. Spiffing. Absolutely spiffing. He rolled his eyes. Another day at the Malfoy's.
He stomped into the hallway where he met his mother's piercing glare.
“About time,” she snapped.
“It was five minutes and did you know there are some people in this world who don't wear ties to breakfast?” Draco sneered. His mother flicked him in the ear. No matter how old he got, she still treated him like he was an eight year old dragging mud into the house. Why did she even get mad about that? She never cleaned it. The house elves did and she had no problem giving them much more ridiculous tasks like rubbing her feet.
“Those people are not Malfoys,” she said coldly.
Draco and his mother stepped into the formal dining hall at Malfoy Manor. Father was seated at the table, giggling with Aunt Bellatrix, recent escaped convict from Azkaban. (Yes, his family was a delight). Mother ignored them like she always did. She was a pro at pretending Lucius Malfoy wasn't a... what was the muggle word... oh, right, man-slut.
His girlfriend, Pansy, was also there, tapping her wand against her hand and changing the color of her fingernails.
“Morning, D,” she sighed. Why did his parents invite her here without his permission? This place was a freak show. He didn't need everyone knowing that. Pansy was the biggest gossip at Hogwarts.
“There you are Narcissa. Draco. Take a seat. We're expecting company,” said Lucius, a devilish smirk on his pointed, icy face.
Draco sat down between Pansy and his mother. Pansy grabbed his thigh under the table, making his eyes widen. He moved her hand lower. Not really the place for that. Pansy was never one for boundaries.
“Sit up straighter.” Mother kicked Draco's shin with her boot sending at jolting pain through his leg.
Draco jumped when he heard the snap of apparation. He knocked his glass over, shattering it.
“Draco!” Lucius spat. He flicked his wand and the glass reformed.
At the head of the long table, draped in a floating cloak was the Dark Lord, his snake coiled by his side.
What a nutter, thought Draco.
