We meet in words | Draco Malfoy

14.

Draco

Draco jumped slightly as his mother's voice broke the silence.

"Hello, darling." When he looked to his left, he smiled as he saw his mother.

He hugged her gently before kissing her on the cheek.

"How are you doing? How did you spend your day?" She asked.

He shrugged and began walking to the kitchen.

"Meh. It was as dull as usual." His mother hurried to catch up, but her frail body refused to assist her.

"Why don't you take a nap, Mom?"

"What a wonderful idea! Why hadn't I thought of that." She remarked, rolling her eyes.

He scoffed as he assisted her into the wheelchair besides them.

"Then why didn't you?" he wondered.

"Before going to bed, I wanted to see my son. Is that really so wrong?" She scolded jokingly.

He smiled sheepishly.

"So." she began.

"What was the reason for your tardiness? The time is 1:00 a.m."

He mumbled. "Diner."

"Draco, that can't be all. I can detect perfume on your clothing." Wrinkling her nose, she said.

"I won't say anything, but please warn me if you happen to provide me with a grandchild at this age by accident."

"Mom." he sighed.

She laughed and threw her head back.

"What? I haven't had the 'keyhole and doorknob' conversation with you yet, but I should before you go too far."

"Don't worry." he muttered bitterly.

"When I saw what he did to you, I knew everything I needed to know." She went completely still.

"We don't talk about that." she retorted angrily.

The lighthearted banter had faded into a solemn silence.

He was clearly frustrated as he combed his hands through his hair.

"Without a doubt. I had forgotten." His mother sighed and nodded.

"So, who was the lady?"

"There was no sex." he clarified, attempting to refute her claims.

"Don't be concerned; I believe you."

"After my fight, I went to the diner and talked with someone until they eventually fell asleep." he explained.

"Ooooohhh." his mother said, wiggling her brows.

"Sounds boring." she said, her face serious, but her smile suggested otherwise.

He laughed softly as he shook his head.

"No, not at all. I suppose it was relaxing."

"Who was it?" He exhaled sharply as he looked away.

"Isabella Anderson." Following the statement, there was silence.

"Hmm." his mother responded.

Her voice was strained, as if she hadn't been able to breathe for a while.

"Is she nice?" When he reflected on their interactions, Isabella had to have been the nicest person he'd ever met.

"The sweetest soul." he simply said.