After explaining what felt like his whole family tree and childhood, it was Harry's turn to interrogate Malfoy about his childhood and family, considering how proud he was, or used to be, of it.
"It isn't anything too interesting," Malfoy started, finishing off his own tea, "a lot of input from my father, though. And—er—Death Eaters."
"That is interesting. If anything, my childhood wasn't interesting," Harry stated, sending his and Malfoy's empty cups to the sink with a flick, where the water started running, allowing them to wash themselves thoroughly.
"If you say so," Malfoy drawled, seemingly not very enthralled at the fact that he had to talk about his childhood, yet going on to tell Harry about meetings where the actual Dark Lord walked into his house, spending years being excessively pampered to the point where he believed he was the centre of the world, as well as simultaneously feeling lonely and isolated from the rest of the world in a large house.
"You weren't allowed outside?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.
"No, no. I was," Malfoy furrowed his brow, "but I've always had to have somebody with me. Mother didn't want me getting hurt or lost since I was her only son . . . if only she knew her own husband would end up kicking him out for the absurd reason of wanting to be a normal human being." He gave an empty laugh in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere again, but it just made Harry's hairs stand on end.
"But as I was saying," Malfoy continued, "I was rarely allowed outside. My parents thought that, in order to protect me, our house was big enough for a child. But by the time I was about five or six, I already knew every corner of the house like the back of my hand. I'd even named all the bugs in our garden and——"
Harry interrupted Malfoy with an involuntary 'Awh', at which the blonde gave him a confused look.
"It's not that cute, Potter," he scoffed.
"It is," Harry smiled, resting his head on his hand, "so tell me, do you remember any of their names?"
"No, of course I don't," Malfoy's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, finally giving some colour to his pale skin, "why would you assume that?" Harry pulled a face in response to his question, which must have triggered something inside of Malfoy because he then sighed. "Okay, fine. I don't remember all of them but I recall being particularly fond of a ladybug I called Rubor, who came to our garden often."
"Rubor?" questioned Harry, tilting his head quizzically.
"It's Latin."
"You know Latin?"
"Of course I do," Malfoy let a prideful smile slip, before his face quickly returned to his usual calm, collected expression. "I didn't have anything to do all day, so I used the library to learn quite a few languages. And that's what I was going to tell you next, before you oh-so kindly interrupted me." He said the last bit with a hint of dryness.
The pair continued their conversation until Malfoy caught a glimpse of the face of the old grandfather clock, bringing their interaction to an abrupt halt.
"It's already twelve?" he half-asked, half-exclaimed.
"Oh," Harry said, following Malfoy's gaze to the face of the clock, "I'm sorry for keeping you for so long. Don't you have work tomorrow?"
The blonde brought his attention back to Harry, "I start late. But don't you have Auror training? I should get going."
"Yeah but it's fine. I s'pose I'll just wing it with some sort of charm that'll ward off the fatigue," Harry shrugged.
"Oh no you don't." Malfoy said his words with such unexpected sternness that Harry was briefly reminded of Mrs Weasley's lectures. Briefly.
"Oh yes I do."
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A Cup of Tea, Please
قصص الهواةWhen Harry wanders into a brand new cafe that has just opened on the outskirts of Muggle London, he notices something peculiar about one of the workers. His insatiable thirst for information regarding the mysterious cafe server results in an unexpec...
