WE NEED EACH OTHER [DRARRY]

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE : WARNINGS

The opposite sides of the same coin... what does that even mean?

Draco's POV

Father had turned on me after the meeting finished. His face, if possible, even looked harsher.

"I hope you realise how deeply you have embarrassed me, Draco," he said, and I nodded. "I don't want to step a foot here again. And it is your duty to not bring shame to your family again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father," I muttered.

"I shall leave now." Father stood, straightening his clothes.

I nodded, releasing a slow breath.

"Take care of yourself, Draco." Father patted me on my back. It was such a harsh contrast to the cold expression he had been shooting at me that I faltered in my steps. "And make sure to write often. Your mother worries a lot."

Mother.

I wished she was here.

It was childish, really. But I wanted to curl up on Mother's lap like I used to do when I was a kid.

I was exhausted, like I'd been running a race. It felt as if still dragging on...

And on... and on...

Mother would stroke my hair. She would whisper sweet words and talk about things that I was good at— that I enjoyed talking about. She would tell me that she was proud of me. But after my fourth year, it stopped. The dark lord couldn't be served with such childishness.

But Salazar, if just for one day— one day, where I wouldn't be Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. When I could go back to my mother and be an eleven-year-old again. She would bake me something— something sweet. It was her own recipe. It was like a cookie. But it was soft and warm, melting on my tongue like some liquid sugar. Despite his efforts, Dobby could never manage to replicate the way Mother made it.

We both would eat out in the courtyard, basking in the warm sun, feeling content as my mother and I discussed school, quidditch, and anything that came to our minds.

The Manor's plants surrounding us would be lush and healthy, our royal peacocks stalking around the garden while we were in our own little world. I would excitedly show her the spells I learnt, using her wand, and she would clap, her eyes gleaming with pride and affection. It was so innocent, just a mother and her son spending some time together.

Father had never been there.

Father had never been in those moments. Never allowed to ruin the small bubble of happiness I had developed. These moments were what kept me together, reminding myself family came first.

I realised I'd gone completely silent, just staring at a wall.

Father was watching me, his expression unreadable.

I cleared my throat, my cheeks growing a bit pink.

"Are you going to escort me, Draco, or shall I just leave now?" Father asked coolly, eyebrows raised.

I nodded, walking him to the carriage. The carriage was already waiting. Before getting on it, Father turned to me and said, "Also, I do not appreciate you hiding about Potter being your partner. I expect you to be honest with everything from now on."

I nodded and muttered, "Yes, Father."

I watched Father's carriage leaving, dully noting the Thestrals I could now see.

While I was entering the castle, Mr Weasley and Potter were at the entrance, apparently saying their last goodbyes.

"Take care, Harry," I heard Mr Weasley say, squeezing Potter's shoulder. "Just send me an owl if you need anything, alright? Molly wanted to invite you for Christmas, so please come if you can. You know you're always welcome."