The Mark of a Death Eater : Sequel

Chapter Two

I went to the library. The Malfoy mansion, for all it's gaudiness and extravagance actually did have something useful in it. The library was huge, filled mostly with biographies of famous and important people, but it was my salvation in this house. The one other place besides my room where I was guaranteed to be left alone.

Reading was my only solace. So far I had read three complete biographies, an entire Quiddich rule book and a thick book of children's tales.

I trailed my fingers along the spines of the books, looking for a certain one that I'd seen the previous Christmas. Memories of that day flooded back to me. Although it was the day that I was branded with the mark and declared an official Death Eater, not everything about that holiday was bad. The day I sat with Draco watching the sunset, reading a book and feeling like things could be better. It was all an illusion, of course, I knew that now.

I found the book that wanted -a poetry book - and turned back to leave the library. To my surprise, Draco was standing a few steps away from me, staring at the ground. I stopped walking. Was he going to talk? Apologize? Or was he just here to call me for dinner? I didn't know what to hope for.

"Hey," he greeted.
This casualness took me back. Did he just say 'hey'? I had no idea that that word still existed in Draco's vocabulary to me.

"Hi," I replied, my heart beating faster than usual.
We stood, a couple of feet apart, neither of us really looking at the other.

Draco seemed to have improved since he'd been home. It made sense to me. He was in his home, with his mother -now with both parents - and he had his aunt to assure his protection. He had stopped looking unhealthily thin and sick, and to an extent he looked... good.
I, on the other hand, had been avoiding mirrors as much as I could. I didn't want to imagine what I looked like. In whichever way this house and it's occupants was a source of comfort to Draco, it was a source of pain to me.

Draco finally stopped tracing the carpets patterns with his eyes and looked up at me. For a long moment, we simply stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

Then he broke the tension by cracking a smile and saying, "I miss your green hair."

And I laughed.

The sound was so foreign in Malfoy Mansion that it seemed to echo a hundred times around the library.
He walked over to me, and slowly, so I could pull away if I wanted to, he put his arms around me.

I didn't pull away.

Instead, I leaned in and relaxed. His arms felt welcoming, like coming home after a long day. I tried to gather my thoughts. Finally, I managed to speak.

"You are a complete pisspot Draco Malfoy." I managed to maneuvered a punch to his midriff while he was hugging me.

His laugh sounded halfway between a laugh and cry.
"I know," he said.

I pulled away and smiled, still holding his arms. "What brought this along?" I asked.
"I'm not sure," he admitted. "Maybe because my father is back."
"That's not actually good news," I warned.
He looked confused. "Why not?"
I sighed impatiently, and for a second I reminded myself freakishly of Hermione Granger.
"Well, obviously now that your father is out of Azkaban the others are too. This means a full house of death eaters, and that means a meeting with... You-Know-Who."
Draco's mouth made a small 'oh'.
"Right. You know what that means for us, don't you?"
He nodded grimly. "I do."

Draco let out a big breath. "How long do you think he'll give us?" he asked.
"I don't know," I answered. "A day? Maybe more. This is definitely happening soon though."