Ineffable. [D. Malfoy]

twenty.

Draco apparated back inside the house, walking towards her room. He could smell the alcohol from her body. However, the overpowering scent of vanilla was beating it. He steadily placed her onto the bed, pulling the covers up towards her body. Noticing a couple of messy strands of hair sprawling across her face, he tucked them back behind her ears- smoothing out her curls the way he did in the bathtub. Deciding on what to do next, he instantly leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead but then stood back up, shaking his head in stupidity, realizing what he was about to do. He left to get another potion for her head and stomach before closing her door quietly and heading to work.

Esme groaned, rolling over in her bed. Her head banged as a terrible headache started from the moment her eyes opened. She turned over, peering at the dresser. There were two cups-both labelled as "Drink Me." She rolled her eyes, knowing right away it was Mr.Malfoy who left them there.

After she had brutally convinced herself to chug down the horrid tasting potions, she sat up, running a hair through her messy curls. She sighed, trying to place together with the events of last night. She could remember going to hang out with Mara and Scorpius and sharing a couple of drinks with them. Then she remembered something about them having to leave for work, but everything after that seemed blurry. She must have gone back to her room and fallen asleep because there were no other memories she could afford to draw up. Her brown hues moved across the room to the chessboard, which was not in its usual position. The pieces had been moved, and a queen was directly aligned to her king. Her eyebrows scrunched together. Then another memory flashed in her mind. She had played chess with Mr.Malfoy and must have fainted during the game.

Her cheeks heated, wondering if she had let anything slip. She was known to be a talkative drunk.

Esme shook her head, pushing her negative thoughts away. It might not have even been that bad. He would have ignored everything she said anyways.

By the time she got dressed, no one had come to check on her. She assumed Mr.Malfoy left for work, and Mara and Scorpius had no plans on coming back anytime soon. Esme made her way towards the library, her feet gliding across the marble floors. The chandelier reflected the bright sun rays that were coming in through the curtains. For an odd reason, the Manor felt warmer than usual. A sense of comfort has spread in her chest, and she smiled, feeling giddy.

The paintings were ruder than, each one of them whispering harshly to each other as she walked along the walls. Had she done something wrong? Letting her mind wander, she became preoccupied with what she needed to look for in the massive Malfoy Library.

Death Eaters.

If she could find books on Dark Magic, it would carry all the valid information she needed to know. Esme approached the large brown doors leading into the library she had grown to love during her stay at the Manor. It was silent. The only sound was her footsteps against the clean, glistening tiles.

She stood frozen in the middle, glancing at the left side where all the newest books were shelved, in rows. Then the middle, where all his classic literature books were. She contemplated where Mr.Malfoy would keep the information on dark magic. Without concluding, her foot pushed forward, walking towards the back of the library, where she had found information about his name. Esme stopped at a bookshelf- eyes scanning along the rows for a hint. The books looked dusted- the covers in a leather binding.

She rolled her eyes at how particular he was. He seemed to be picky about having things his way, and one thing out of line would blow up in his face like a bomb. She giggled, wondering what his face would look like if things didn't go his way. She imagined Mr.Malfoy with his eyebrows scrunched together in anger, eyes hardened, his pale face tightened as his pink lips remained in a line. She could see his jaw clench and fists held behind his back. Esme shook her head as another giggle left her lips. He was always serious, rarely ever smiling.