Evangeline Blackwood and the Lost Letter - draco malfoy

sixteen.

When she woke up, Draco was gone.

She could still feel his fingertips on her cheek, smell his scent on the sheets.

As she woke up, so did her body, which started to buzz unceremoniously. She sat up in bed, rubbing her forehead with her palm. There was a sense of dread hanging over her, despite how much she had enjoyed his company and the feeling of falling asleep under his touch. She felt dirty and, of the same token, disgusting.

When Topsy arrived, Evan was surprised. She was asking Evan to come downstairs, even though the sun had already risen and it had to be late morning already. Evan assumed she was in for another day of training. She donned her usual dress, tied the laces of her boots, and followed Topsy down the stairs. She had looked for her wand, where she had left it on the floor the previous night, but it had vanished. This was not surprising. Draco had suffered enough because of his own leniency towards her.

When Evan turned the corner, Topsy stopped. Evan was confused, looking down at the elf expectantly. When she looked up, she saw Draco's mother seated at the long dining table, a cup of tea in her hand and a newspaper laid out on the shiny black surface.

"Evangeline," she said, looking up as Topsy ushered Evan into the dining room. "Sit."

"Where's Draco?" Evan asked immediately, not moving to join her just yet.

"He is at a meeting," she replied smoothly.

"A meeting with who?" Evan asked in confusion. She was acting as if Evan should know what this meant.

"The Dark Lord meets with his High Ranks often to maintain order and to talk strategy. That's why I'm here, Lucius is with him," she replied. "Come." She gestured to the table where Topsy was currently setting another steaming cup of tea in front of a chair, intended for Evan to sit in.

With an air of caution, Evan sat down at the table. It felt strange to sit in Draco's dinning room with his mother, as she had barely set foot in the other areas of the Manor besides the garden and her bedroom. And she had never even spoken directly to the woman before her, with her worn but beautiful face and Draco-esque white hair. She did not even know her name.

Evan looked down at the tea, not remembering the last time she had drank something other than water and potions. Evangeline was an American and did not have the same taste for hot tea as Europeans, but she sipped it happily, her eyes closing when she wrapped her hand around the warm silver cup.

"I hear the Dark Lord is most impressed with you," Draco's mother said.

"I suppose," Evan whispered, avoiding her gaze.

"You have surprised me," she said, her eyes twinkling slightly and with a light smile. "My husband does not share my. . . open mind. But you have proven yourself, and even Lucius was impressed by your performance at the evaluation."

Her stomach churned. She did not want to be congratulated on her success in killing a teenage boy. She didn't want to impress Draco's parents. In fact, she didn't want to be talking to his mother at all. Evan scowled at her and went silent, setting the silver cup back onto the table.

They sat for a while in silence. Evan was not naïve enough to believe that Draco's mother had asked her to tea simply for her company. If Draco was his mother's son, Evan could only infer that this was manipulation, a ploy of some kind. But if there was a darker reason for the tea, Draco's mother did not show it. It seemed that she simply wanted a companion to sit with her while she drank her hot beverage and read her newspaper.

The newspaper. Evan stared at it, laid down upon the table. The title read, "THE DAILY PROPHET" and there was a picture on the front page, black and white and. . . moving. It was a man dangling from an invisible rope by his ankles.