𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 [𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

DRACO'S hand had begun to cramp with how much notes he was taking.

His pages were filled with endless information on ancient runes; there were so many he needed to cover. But his head simply ached from staring at them, perhaps he had overworked himself.

He glanced up from his page, his silver eyes landing on a framed picture. There were three people in the image; two boys and a girl. Draco recognized one of the boys to be himself, but far younger. He didn't know any other boy who had his white-blonde hair.

The other boy was dark-skinned. He had sharp features and was about the same height as he was, maybe a tiny bit taller. Then Draco's eyes drifted over to the girl. She had short choppy hair and a pug-like face, albeit she was very beautiful, he thought.

The image moved, and then replayed. One second it was serious faces and the next was the three completely break into hysterical laughter. Draco enjoyed watching them; he missed them. He usually saw them over the holidays, but this time he couldn't since he wasn't allowed to leave his bedroom.

His heart pounded as he thought of them, wondering if they were dealing with the same trouble he was, wondering if they were kept hostage in their own homes like he was, wondering if they ever got any of his letters.

Maybe they didn't, he thought, they would have written back.

His stomach twisted as he began to question if they even suspected something was wrong, or whether they did but didn't care enough about him to do anything. 

Maybe they didn't care.

His eyes drifted down to the image once more as he slowly dragged his thumb over the top of the frame, letting out a low breath. He set the frame down back where it was before pulling out of his drawers.

He immediately saw a small mirror, one that could easily be carried around in his pocket. He reached for it and brought it up to his face, challenging the person who stared back at him.

Indeed, he was younger.

His jaw wasn't as sharp as it usually was, his eyes weren't as cloudy as he recognized them to be, and his hair wasn't parted the way he liked it now. It was different. He was different.

A knock on his door instantly made him snap of out of his thoughts. From his friends' silence to how sickly he looked in his mirror, he needed it. He hadn't even said 'come in' when he heard the click of the door, a woman's head peaking in.

"Draco." The woman said softly. He felt a small smile creep onto his lips as he welcomed her in. She pushed the door open and stood in the frame, straightening her posture. 

She looked older, but was aging very well. She was of average height, maybe slightly above, and she had long, straight dark hair with an iced blonde underlayer. Her eyes were dark and soft, though she'd have someone put their tail between their legs and bolt if they ever dared challenge her intimidating glare.

"Your dinner is ready, darling." She spoke as she returned his smile.  Draco had put his mirror back in his desk before closing the drawer carefully. He pushed back his chair and faltered when she winced, his head snapping in her direction. "Don't drag the chair along the floor, it'll leave a mark."

Without saying a word, Draco retracted his chair and pushed it in the correct way. The woman waited patiently for him, and sent him another smile when he met her eyes. They stepped out of his bedroom and she linked her arm in his.

They walked slowly down a long corridor. It had tall walls and glass chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. Across from his room was a large window and tall castleton green velvet drapes held together by silver ropes.