𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒽 | 𝒟.𝑀.

63 | ﴾ Where's The Fire? ﴿

Draco had yet another very frustrating day of witnessing Madeleine and Theo flirting in the atrium of the Ministry, and he was beginning to think he would end up quitting as a result of how upsetting it truly was. Theo had spun her around in a playful dance with their arms high above her head and she had twirled so gracefully, so beautifully on the point of her toes with her dusty blue dress rotating like a flower petal.

She was a vision and he, like everyone in the vicinity, had caught their breaths at her charmful movement. Theo's eyes had brightened like stars.

Draco was convinced that they were falling in love and it was savagely dismantling his mental stability. At first, he was highly suspicious that an Unbreakable Vow had been struck, but after two weeks had passed by of having to witness their affections nonstop and sleeping all alone by himself he was boiling with rage and jealousy, effectively giving in to delusions.

For the past few days she had returned to him angry and resentful expressions that left Draco utterly dumbstruck, as if he were doing anything to her at all. Nott was likely taking advantage of his time with Madeleine to poison her against Draco with lies, and it only made him feel more defeated.

He ate dinner as he usually did in the large, formal dining hall which now felt less ominous and actually inviting without the presence of Death Eaters and Lucius hanging around the manor. More often than not his mother would appear to join him and he'd come to appreciate the evening conversations with her. Narcissa understood him and respected him, and consistently asked him about how his hobbies were going.

To his dismay when the large door opened with a groaning arrogance it was not his mother, but in fact his estranged wife. She flattened herself against the door and tilted her head to the side, biting her lip mischievously, "I thought I might find you 'iding away in 'ere."

He put down his quill from where he'd been writing out architectural scriptures and blueprints for work, mapping out progress of the castle and proposals for improved designs. Madeleine crossed the room looking tantalizing in a short golden dress. He could feel the scowl seeping across his face before she'd even made it halfway across. "What the fuck could you possibly want?" he asked defensively. The expression on her face was sly and sneaky.

She stopped and slung her arm over his chair behind his neck and leaned close to his ear, gazing daringly into his eyes, "I missed you, I 'aven't seen you in a while."

He snorted, "Somehow Madeleine, I have trouble believing that. I'm busy, leave me alone."

She twisted before him while running her fingers across his chest. "And I don't believe you dat you are busy. Look," she flicked her fingers and knocked his tea onto what he was writing and the parchments immediately soaked. The precisely scrawled ink ran like miniature arteries in all directions, carrying away the information in liquid form. She giggled in a dollish tone as she lowered herself into his lap and threw her head back off his shoulder, "All gone. Now you're not busy."

He was aghast at her rude behaviour, feeling the rage boiling up under his skin instantly, "Why? You insufferable, audacious heathen! That was an hour of work." He threw the quill across the room in irritation and glared sideways at her, and yet still, despite everything, his heart lurched if only microscopically at her smile and the feeling of her body in his arms.

"Are you pleased with yourself? You have my attention," he remarked in a low tone.

"Mhmm," she responded in her petite voice, leaning over to kiss at his neck. Her arm twisted backwards and between his legs as she pawed at his belt buckle. He felt a wave of trepidation and also irritation that she felt she could simply come and take him whenever she wanted after spending two weeks making out with his enemy right in front of him.