Aftermath

Stories Left Unspoken

Two straw brooms danced around the kitchen by themselves. The sink was bubbling to its bridge as sponges washed the dishes that then flew into their belonged cabinets in perfect order. The dark grey countertops were so clean they shone like darkened stars. The room was illuminated with globes floating from the top of the ceiling.

Hestia peaked out the corner of her eyes to see Draco's reaction. His mouth was slightly ajar as his eyes gazed around the room in a awe filled spark. He turned to her with a small smile, "I don't understand. You did this? This is something I've only seen experienced Wizards perform."

Hestia pulled her hand from his and wandered into the active kitchen. Raising her wand she studied its design for a small second. The handle looked as though crystals and pearls had melted together in an unknown fire from the deepest pits of hell. It ran together to form a thin long bridge so pure white it looked like ice. She was pulled back to reality by the presence of Draco behind her, so with a quick wave of the wand all the inanimate objects stopped their work instantly cleaning up and cleared out.

They were alone again.

"Yes, I did. After the death of my family I could do as I pleased and act to my own accord. My parents were bitter to the house elves, cruel to the point of no return. Personally, I always hated the slavery of the creatures, so when I came back home I offered them their freedom should they want it. Most of them fled, of course.

Like all creatures of magic, some only know what they need regardless of how horrible it is. Half the remaining elves begged for me to keep them, so I did. Then half of them accepted freedom but also wanted to continue to work for me. I allow them all a couple of rooms for themselves and created a self cleaning kitchen with a homemade spell."

Draco watched as Hestia ran her long nails across the countertops before turning to him and sitting on top of the counter. Hestia was a mystery to him. No doubt she was the most beautiful women he's ever seen, but she was also the most remarkable. She just sat there with this look that screamed so many things he could never fully understand.

He kept his eyes trained on hers as he sat on the counter opposite her. Hestia was never like the others, she was against privilege and evil. She was on the side of those seen as beneath the pure bloods, creatures like the house elves. Hestia was always fighting against the system he knew was wrong but too afraid to speak against.

"Accio Fireball." She whispered, holding her right hand out for the bottle containing the whiskey. "Would you like a drink?"

Her voice was mesmerizing in an almost sinister way. She spoke in a way that said that regardless of what she asked or was saying, in the end she already knew how you were going to respond. Before the boy had a chance to respond a crystal glass with the drink was already in his hand.

Hestia took a sip, the burning sensation like dragon fire flowed throughout her core and deep into her stomach. It erupted inside her with a force of energy only a flame could give. Hestia studied Draco as he sat there, she watch his body and face. She read between a billion lines of what he was thinking and what he has done. She had an unreadable expression that even the strongest of wizards could never decipher, yet she knew exactly what Draco wanted to say.

"Say what's on your mind Draco. I can see thoughts racing in your head. You're so conflicted, curious, and confused. You haven't spoken to me in years, so why are you really here?"

"I wanted to know how you were doing." He stated simply.

A ghostly hand brushed her dark red lips for a second with a soft smile. She repeated the words she's said so much they were no longer real, just a repetitive charm that never met her ears anymore. "I'm fine."