Unspoken | Draco Malfoy

1.

"you are doing it wrong Eva, you are supposed to turn it upside down" little Draco says looking at the girl. It was summer morning, sweat was covering their small faces as Eva scowled at the glowing scoop of Stardust Swirl ice cream balanced on her cone. "That doesn't make any sense, Draco. It'll fall right off!"

"Not if you do it properly!" Draco said, flipping his own cone upside down for a second. Instead of dropping, the shimmering blue ice cream defied gravity, clinging to the cone as if glued. "See? It's enchanted. The spell only works when the ice cream knows you're trusting it."

Eva narrowed her eyes. "Ice cream can't know things." 

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Draco said, sounding annoyingly superior. Eva hesitated, glancing at her own dessert. She wasn't about to let Draco Malfoy outdo her. Taking a deep breath, she flipped her cone upside down. For a terrifying half-second, the ice cream wobbled, and she was sure it would splatter onto the cobblestones of Diagon Alley.Then—whoosh! A swirl of golden sparks wrapped around the scoop, holding it in place. She flipped it back upright, staring.

Draco grinned. "Told you." Eva took a cautious bite, and her eyes widened. "It tastes different." Draco leaned in slightly. "What's it taste like?" She licked her lips, considering. "Like—fireworks. And honey." His smirk softened. "That means you trusted it."

Eva glanced at him, and for a brief second, the usual smugness in his expression wasn't there. He looked... pleased. Like he hadn't just won a silly game, but like he was genuinely happy that she had done it.

She huffed, breaking the moment. "Or maybe it just always tastes like that." Draco leaned back, tilting his head. "Maybe," he said lazily. "Guess you'll have to try it again sometime."

Just as Eva was about to retort, a distant but unmistakable voice echoed through the alleyway.

"Draco, Eva" Narcissa Malfoy called, her tone carrying the kind of authority that left no room for argument. "It's time for lunch." Eva and Draco both turned toward the grand entrance of Malfoy Manor, where their mothers stood waiting, poised and elegant as ever. Draco sighed. "Looks like game is over." Eva smirked. "Better hurry before your mother sends the house-elves after you."

Draco rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Together, they made their way toward the manor, walking side by side.

As soon as they stepped into Malfoy Manor, the shift in atmosphere was almost immediate. The air was cooler, the marble floors gleamed under the soft light of enchanted chandeliers, and everything—from the towering portraits to the perfectly arranged silverware—whispered wealth and old magic. Eva had been to the manor before, but it always felt a little like stepping into a different world. One where every word mattered, every glance carried meaning, and silence held just as much power as speech.

"Do sit," Narcissa Malfoy said smoothly, gesturing toward the long dining table. She took her place at the head, her expression as poised as ever, though her sharp blue eyes missed nothing. Lady Rosier, Eva's mother, settled beside her with the kind of practiced grace that came naturally to women of their status.

Eva sat beside Draco, who looked completely at ease, as if he belonged here more than anywhere else. A house-elf appeared instantly, serving delicate plates of roast lamb, buttered asparagus, and freshly baked bread, the kind that was so soft it practically melted in your mouth.

As Eva reached for her goblet, she felt Draco's gaze on her. "Still thinking about the ice cream?" he asked in a low voice, amusement dancing in his tone. She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. "Hardly. I was thinking about how much quieter lunch would be without you."

Draco smirked, slicing into his lamb with ease. "You'd be bored out of your mind." Eva huffed but didn't argue.

Their mothers were deep in conversation, discussing something about the Ministry, about social standing, about alliances—things neither of them particularly cared for.