A Wonderful Fortuitous Love

10. Draco's Payback

“What are you so cheerful about?” she asked timidly. She knew anything that would have Draco behaving this way ought to be something to be wary of.

“What’s there not to be cheery about?” he said lightly, juices of the apple spurring his body into gear. In the mornings, he would have something to say about that mop of fuzz on her head, it looked positively dreadful in the morning, but today he ignored it.

“Well…” Granger paused, conflicting emotions playing out behind her eyes. “It’s just that…” She didn’t finish though, and with a shake of her head, placed the last spoonful of yoghurt in her mouth and left the table.

Draco nearly smiled. His attitude had her on her toes. Good.

However, Granger didn’t stay gone for very long, and soon she was back again. Albeit this time she was not alone. A large black owl that was painfully familiar to Draco swept through the window she had apparently just opened, flew cleanly above her head, almost catching her bushy hair in its talons, and landed fluently on the vase of dead flowers in the centre of the table.

Right in front of Draco.

Reluctantly, he reached out and unclasped the note that was tied neatly to the owl’s leg. Dread filled him as he read the back of the note, signed Narcissa Malfoy, and his good mood slowly drained out of him completely as he unfolded the note and began to read:

Dear Draco,

How have you been? How are work and your new roommate treating you? I haven’t read anywhere in the Daily Prophet of any recent deaths so I trust that must be a good sign, seeing as neither one of you has murdered the other yet. I congratulate you. Do tell me how your first few weeks have been; I’d be interested to hear about it.

Draco’s mood lifted again as he skimmed through the next paragraph, going on about the refurnishing of the manor and different wallpapers and the new colour of his room, but then dropped just as fast as it had came when he reached the next paragraph, explaining the real reason his mother had wrote to him.

I regret to inform you that you are required by the manor at three fifteen today, sharp, for tea. Natalie and I will accompany you. Terribly sorry about the short notice darling, she hadn’t informed me of this meeting until late last night. I strictly advise you to be on your best behaviour and do not let me or your father down. Be polite, patient, speak kindly when asked of your inferiors and at least pretend to enjoy work. The sooner she likes you, the easier this will all be.

Dress well, hair brushed, teeth cleaned and flossed, I’ll see you at three.

Love always,

Your mother.

Draco stared at the parchment, reread it over, looked up at the ceiling, glared at the owl as if this were his fault, and then swore loudly.

Granger, startled, looked up from the book in her hands. If Draco had not been in such a state, he may have been appreciative he’d managed to tear her attention away from it. He didn’t think even Potter or Weasley were capable of that.

But right now, he couldn’t care less.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

“Malfoy –”

“Bloody fucking hell!”

“What happened?”

He almost answered her, but caught himself in time. As if he’d let his guard down around Granger and spill out all his feelings – this wasn’t one of those damn soap operas that were always on daytime television (he hadn’t even watched much television and he knew well by now daytime TV was horrible).