promise

a cold november evening

It happens one cold November evening.

It's the last few hours of the day — but Draco can't relax just yet. Not when he's this close.

He's been working on this case for weeks now — a particularly tricky Curse placed around an entire manor somewhere deep in the highlands of Scotland — and Draco can tell he's right on the cusp of cracking it. A couple more hours of work and he'll have the Counter-Curse ready and be able to restore the manor safely to its owners. Hopefully without any more severed limbs.

He's just pulled up another diagram of the intricacies of the Curse into the air with his wand, manipulating and manoeuvring the image this way and that with his hands. There's over a dozen parchments spread out over his large desk, his handwriting scrawled on every inch of them, filled with notes and equations and messy sketches. All borne from countless sleepless nights and intense work with only the occasional break for coffee. He can barely recall sitting down for meals.

It's not a new thing for him — if there's one renowned trait about Malfoys, it's that they're obsessive. And frankly, it feels good to put his mind to use, to stop thinking about the war and Azkaban and his parents.

On this particular night, he's given his secretary strict instructions not to let anyone in, should they show up for him. When he's this close to cracking a Curse, even the slightest distraction can set him back hours — and there's very little that can drag him away now.

Except for one person, he supposes.

Tonight, he senses her before he hears her. He'll never be able to explain how he knows she's around — but from his position braced against the edge of the desk, both hands gripping the edge of the oak, his eyes flick up to the door.

Not much can drag him away from a Curse he's working on — but she always can.

Which is why when he hears her voice emanate from outside his office, frantic and panicked, his brain immediately sets aside the task at hand. He pushes off the table, striding around as her voice grows louder and now, he can tell she's crying.

"Please just let me see him. I need to—You don't understand—I need to—"

"I'm so sorry, Miss Jacobs." Paulina's voice is soft and polite — Draco has never heard her raise it. "But he's working on a very important case right now and he specifically asked me not to let anyone—"

Draco wraps his fingers around the door knob and pulls it open to reveal a teary-eyed, shaking Elara and a sympathetic, worried Paulina in front of her.

Immediately, Elara's eyes widen as they turn to him and her voice wavers. "Draco—"

"Mr. Malfoy—" Paulina sounds apologetic, no doubt getting ready to explain what's going on here but Draco doesn't even need to hear it.

"Paulina," he says, calmly, holding one hand out to Elara who quickly slips her own into it. "Didn't I tell you that Miss Jacobs has free entry to my office?"

Paulina flushes red. "I—I know, sir. It's just—You were working on such an important case and I thought—"

"Don't," he tells her, curtly, "ever turn my fiancée away."

She takes a step back, her head bowing. "My apologies. To the both of you."

Draco says nothing, only looks down at Elara who nods and says, "It's alright, Paulina. Nothing to worry about."

And with that out of the way, Draco pulls her into his office and shuts the door behind him, automatically triggering the Silencing Charms in place.