𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

harbour mist

"Why not? I liked it," Skylar said. "It has chocolate and butterscotch, what more can you ask for from life?"

"No," he laughed lightly. "The chocolate would spill over everywhere and it'd be a mess. Besides, were already installing that chocolate fountain thing right? It'd become too chocolatey. . . The flavors have to come together to make complete harmony."

"Pansy was correct Draco," Skylar said bluntly, before dipping her fork into the gooey soft vanilla-butterscotch slice of cake. "You're a princess."

"Oh, please," Draco scoffed. "Forgive me for having refined tastes."

"You're forgiven," Skylar laughed, and Draco noted how her eyes sparkled and her red lips curled with mirth. "But seriously, Draco, we have like two weeks until the wedding. If Molly or Fleur show me another type of cerulean blue tablecloth, I might actually combust and kill them all."

"Blaise brought this Italian designer," Draco said, turning to face her, a look of bemusement on his face. "That man put me in seventeen different types of wedding robes, correlating them with my hair and eyes. Can you believe it!"

"It's better than wedding dresses Draco!" Skylar said exasperatedly. "Narcissa made me try on like ten different ones. I liked none of them."

Draco sighed deeply, a smile etching on his face. They weren't alone, he knew. He could see the people in the tables whispering about them or the reporters right outside waiting to get a clean shot. He couldn't care less.

They left the shop with the last cake they tasted— it was going to be five tiered, decorated with enchanted roses that bloomed when they were bonded for life. It was simple, no flying phoenixes or erupting mistletoes. It was simple, just like how he and Skylar were.

He wasn't allowed to come, of course, when Ginny and Hermione came to pick Skylar up from Florean Fortesque's ice cream parlor. They were off looking for more wedding dresses. Draco enjoyed the camera flashes when he kissed Skylar deeply, leaving her a little out of breath, and left with a triumphant smirk.

His Healer Training application had passed through; he had passed with nine NEWTs—Alchemy, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defense against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Herbology and Astronomy. Hermione Granger had nine NEWTs too, but for whatever reason, she chose to settle with Ministry work anyway. His parents were proud, genuinely proud, but for the first time he had found himself not caring about it. Exams were easy for him, he was trained to remember and study from a young age. Exams were nothing. The fact that he sought praise and acceptance from his parents for performing well in school seemed bizarre now. Of course, he was supposed to perform well. And he did.

And now, he was about to change the value of his Malfoy name—no more estates, no more business, but a true career he chose for himself to make a name in it by himself. The Malfoy name was a crown and a burden at the same time, and as much as he didn't want to get rid of it, he wanted it to be there for himself and the upcoming line of Malfoys in a way it never was for him. Draco Malfoy had changed for the better and he'd like nothing but to remain that way.

Draco was rich and he aimed to be wealthy as well.

•

"Is this your vault?" Ginny asked quietly as they stood at the entrance of a deep-seated vault way underground, where the oldest wizarding families had theirs. Skylar hadn't truly appreciated the treasures her vault had until now. Along with piles of galleons, there also remained age-old remains of the Firegold heritage.