Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. I)

Her Gilded Cage (Draco Malfoy)

This was requested by NerdyAnimeAddict who gave me the most wonderful request. My imagination kind of ran off with this one and I think, as of late, it's the one that was the easiest to write. I practically wrote it in one go. So, I hope you like it ~

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Despite all the rooms in our house, despite the big open garden at the back, my favourite room to be in was Greg's bedroom. Gregory who was at times a little slow but was the best brother I could have ever hoped for. He was my best friend – my only friend – and my confidante and I hated whenever he had to return to school. I spent near enough a week crying myself to sleep because I was once more left alone, trapped away and hidden away with nothing and no one to talk to save for the house-elves. Father might have thought me lowly and worth nothing, but he thought worse of the house-elves and wouldn't tolerate me speaking with them for longer than was strictly necessary.

But, with Gregory home from school, I was allowed to lounge in his room. His bedroom with one of the best views over the garden had a chaise lounge set up in front of the bay window in what he liked to call my little reading nook. Only when he was home did I have the courage to lounge and read aloud, with Greg beside me as he sat on the floor. Usually he'd listen to me as I read, feasting on a box of chocolates or a platter of cupcakes, as he sat – claiming I reminded him of mother when I read to him. Occasionally, he would offer me a chocolate or something to drink and I accepted them all without pause.

Reaching the end of the page, I prepared to turn it, only to still at the sound of loud voices echoing from the downstairs hallway all the way up to Greg's room. My voice trailed off as Greg stood quickly. We shared a glance, fleeting and nothing longer than a second, before he took my hand and hauled me to my feet. I complied easily, snagging the book in my hands and picking up my discarded cardigan.

Whilst most thought Gregory slow – and I hated that sometimes I also thought he was – he wasn't dull when it came to this. When it came to me, Gregory was sharp as a whip. He instantly called out for a house-elf, and when the creature appeared, he ordered it to make sure that if father planned on approaching the bedroom, he was kept occupied for a short while.

My feet led me quickly towards the two bookshelves in his room. One book self, short and standing below a portrait of our grandfather, was filled with story books. The second bookshelf, going from ceiling to floor, wasn't a bookshelf at all. I reached for it, pressing my palm against it and pushing it open, I hurried inside. The bookshelf shut behind me as I took a moment to recover – it was always so different, going from the open air in Greg's bedroom, to the enclosed space of mine. It always made me so suffocated.

The area behind the bookshelf opened up to a room roughly the same size as Gregory's but it was much sparser and much darker, with no window to bring some much needed warmth and sunlight into the room. There was an artificial window, one that showed me what the weather was like outside, but nothing else. The bed, the same as Gregory's, was some of the only furniture alongside a desk and an uncomfortable chair, a small bookshelf and a cupboard for my clothes. Father didn't allow me to decorate it and it was the same as it was when it was my nursery. The wallpaper – originally an emerald green had faded and picked up an almost greyish tint and the carpet beneath my feet was no longer plush and soft. House-elves kept the room clinically clean, refusing to let me fall ill because the room was dirty – father certainly wouldn't give me anything that would help me heal myself.

With the storybook still clutched against my chest, I approached the portrait that was hung over the smaller bookshelf in Gregory's room. Only, it wasn't a portrait, it was like a one way window, allowing me to peek into Gregory's room and – Greg had told me once – that there was a spell that would allow him to peer into my room. Father had to add that spell to the portrait when, after a bout of measle mumps, I almost died right in my bedroom. Gregory returned from his first term at Hogwarts to find out and he'd almost lost himself in his struggles to get to me, to get me help. Father conceded, almost having lost his heir, and set up the second end of the portrait so Greg could peek in whenever he needed to check that I was breathing.