Draco Malfoy Imagines

Right Here All Along

Summary: Lord Draco Malfoy, Earl of Wiltshire, arrives in London to find a wife. He finds his childhood friend and long lost love, instead.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, childhood friends, pining, mutual pining, regency era stereotypes, a lot of dialogue, slightly emotional over a cow - we mourn the cow more than Lucius Malfoy, food and drink, alcohol, happy draco.

-------

The sky was a clear blue, and February had just given way to March when Draco Malfoy decided he was ready to marry.

Close to thirty years of age, he knew he had to marry if he wanted to ensure that Malfoy Manor, its surrounding lands and tenants, and his fortune remain within his bloodline and not handed off to his third cousin who would no doubt squander the fortune in London's gambling hells.

So, the sky was a clear blue with a slight breeze in the air when he announced to no-one in particular that he was intending to marry and would depart for London to pick up the rest of the season before its end in late August.

Draco had managed to live a peaceful life in rural Wiltshire. He had had his fun, of course. His days at Oxford were fondly thought of; the sound of youthful laughter ringing in his ears as he recalls the trouble he and his peers would get into.

The fun ended too soon, however. Upon the death of his father, Lucius Malfoy, Earl of Wiltshire in his final year of university, Draco had returned home and dutifully took up his inherited title and the follies that came with it.

Draco had been running the estate and his life on his own for almost a decade. He was just now realising how lonely such a task is. For Draco, marriage was the clear answer.

--------

Draco had been in London all of 48 hours when the first of the invitations begin to arrive. He hadn't tried to hide his arrival in the city; dining at his club on the first night, drinking with old university friends until the early hours. Draco knew it would only be a matter of time before the first cream envelope would land on his desk.

However, it wasn't the delicately written invitations that captured his attention. Rather, it was the dark red wax seal with his friend's signet ring impression printed into it. Theodore Nott had grown up two estates from Draco's. Their mothers had been close friends, both coming out and marrying in the same season, it was to be expected that Draco and Theodore would be best friends. As luck would have it, Draco wouldn't have it any other way. Theodore had gotten Draco out of many sticky situations, and vice versa.

Reading the missive from his dear friend, Draco reaches for his jacket, alerting his staff that he would gone for most of the morning. If they needed him, they would be at Saville House – Theodore's home.

Saville House resided a 10-minute walk from Draco's own home in Portman Square. One of many residences held by Theodore now that his beloved father had passed on; a rather large house in Grosvenor Square that screamed wealth. From the wrought iron gates to the mix of brick holding the house up, Theodore's status dripped from every nook and cranny, only further punctuated by the decoration of the house.

"Malfoy!" Theodore Nott, Lord Saville, cries out as he enters the pale blue drawing room to which Draco had been led to after arriving on Theodore's step.

The smile cannot be kept from Draco's face as he greets his oldest friend; one of a handful to never use his official title. "Nott," He smiles, clapping his friend on the shoulder, "How are you? How's married life treating you?"

Theodore had married last season's incomparable, Elsie Quinn in a widely publicised ceremony just over a year ago. Draco had never been happier for his friend despite the pit of loneliness settling deep within his gut. Theodore had been a known rake; his roguish grin having several ladies fall to his feet, but he had found Elsie, and he would never stray.