Draco POV:
When the puff of green smoke finally subsided I stepped out of the chimney into my sitting room. My mother and father sat in their separate armchairs waiting for me. My mother didn't meet my curiosity and was instead fiddling with the end of her dress.
The dress she wore was plain not like the heavily sequenced dresses she wore when she left the house. My mother had deep circles bulging underneath her eyes that looked like they had tried to be hidden by a glamour but to no avail.
On the other hand, my father looked positively chipper his suit was pressed and tailored. He looked very smart and presentable.
"Draco we need to have a conversation with you." My father said and all the blood drained from my mother's already pale face.
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The house-elves bustled about grabbing my suitcases my Poppy brought me a cup of tea and some biscuits. Which she placed on the small antique table beside the burgundy armchair I was making my way towards. This chair faced both my parents in a semi-circle pattern.
I reclined the chair and made myself comfortable before returning my attention back to my parents. "Very well father. Do continue." I gestured to him vaguely with my left and picked up my tea with my right. I took a small but and silent sip.
"Draco, I suppose that you remember me writing to you about some house guests which will stay with us indefinitely." He stated as his voice very steady and calm which was in stark contrast to my mother's actions.
"Why of course father. I haven't forgotten. We don't normally have house guests," I commented on the side and my father looked pleased.
"No, we don't Draco. This, however, will be very different." He smiled wickedly which he only did when something went his way and he got a lot out of it. The last time he smiled like this he had just managed to 'Earn' money from a mudblood or so he said. He never gave me any specific details. I was too young he said. His statement however confused me. The only socializing I have had within the walls of this household was at the annual Christmas Ball hosted here each year for the members of the sacred 28. Excluding the Weasleys of course.
"How so father?" I asked taking another small sip of tea the heat singeing the tip of my tongue. I was careful to make sure my father wouldn't notice.
"You know of the Dark Lord do you not?" This question was seemingly random and I didn't know exactly how to respond. My father seemed gleeful which just looked twisted on his face.
"Of course father, may I ask-" I started but my father put his hand up to stop me from continuing.
"No, you may not. Let me enlighten you." Then he told me of how the Dark Lord would be coming to stay with us.. in our home over my 6th year. This revelation made me feel sick. My intestines squirmed and squeezed as my heart dropped to their level.
"What an honor.." I choked out, my words felt flat and dishonest. Or at least they were to me because my father didn't seem to notice.
"That it is Draco. It has been said that he has a gift for you. One very much like mine." He very deliberately drew one of his long fingers down the side of his left arm where I knew his mark laid.
"I did not imagine he would let a teenager-" My father interrupted me once more.
"You are special Draco." Yeah right, Special my arse.
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The rest of Christmas was even more gloomy than the years before. If that was even possible. On Christmas day I opened all of my gifts but disregarded most of them. The senders never really cared. It was only my mother's gift that I cared about.
My Mother and I tried to console each other whenever possible behind the prying eye of my father. I have never been longing to go back to Hogwarts as much I am now. I knew I had to tell Harry about what happened, but I had no idea how.
How in the world was I supposed to say that his mortal enemy was going to be living in my house and making me one of his glorified servants. That was for future Draco to worry about.
And future Draco did not handle it well.
YOU ARE READING
~Unknown Markings~
Teen FictionEver since Draco can remember he also seemed to get small cuts and scars without having done anything to cause them. A few years later writing starts appearing on his arms that he can't remember writing. Harry is clueless about what's going on. Will...
