𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 | Draco Malfoy

42: The Last Summer

So when they finally had a moment together, with the taps running as they began washing up in the kitchen, she asked her.

"I found out something," Isabelle began, whispering despite being drowned out by the obnoxious laughter from the dining room, "Something I'm not sure you're ready to hear."

"I buried a friend, aunt," Madeline cut her off, "And I watched a man die last year. Not to be blunt, but I can handle it."

But before her aunt could speak another word, the two were whisked away by Madeline's mother with a promise of board games and liquor.

They forgot about the conversation for days.

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Dear Draco,

I'm not quite sure what to write to you about.

France is, predictably, as French as always. The food is great, although I'm starting to miss you those Sunday roasts you constantly bang on about.

How are your holidays?

From, Madeline.

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"So, how do you feel about him?" Isabelle asked eventually on that second summer week, the two lounging by the poolside of Isabelle's home.

Madeline sighed, rubbing her temples and lifting her sunglasses. Her aunt was the only one she'd told about Draco. She hadn't even told Theo and Daphne, and she didn't know if she wanted to. Right now, she was quite content with the idea of keeping whatever they had to themselves. Her little secret. It had only been a kiss, after all.

"I didn't think time would be followed by a storm," Madeline eventually confessed, "After Fred and I broke up, I thought all I needed was time. But Draco feels like a storm, like every emotion you feel guilty about feeling, all in one person. And it's so exciting."

Isabelle smiled, albeit a little sadly, leaning back in her chair, "Ah. I felt like that, once."

"For my uncle?"

Isabelle snorted, "No, that was a different kind of love. Enjoy the feeling he gives you, yeah? Don't shy away from it. It won't do you any good."

Madeline nodded. No shying away from emotions.

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Dear Madeline,

I don't like it when you're so formal.

My holidays are average.

I'm not quite sure what to write to you about. I'm not very good at expressing myself. I'd much rather see you. But that's also for other matters that we most certainly can't take part in over letters.

From, Draco.

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Madeline did exceptionally well in her OWLs, thank you very much.

She'd obtained a high grade in all of her classes, and especially in the ones she wanted to continue in. Potions was a guarantee, of course. DADA had been suspended due to the interrupted curriculum, but she was of course going to take a NEWT in that. Her family hadn't been entirely impressed, expecting nothing less from her than high grades and punctuality. Nevertheless, she was delighted.