Draco Malfoy did not like toast a single bit.
He somehow always managed to burn the bread, and the charred taste and texture combined with the utter dullness of the food led Draco to declare his hatred for toast above all else.
But there was nothing left but bread in the pantry. And unlike when he was a boy, the Malfoy Manor was empty of servants who would usually keep it fully stocked with all sorts of food.
Draco looked out the window and sighed.
He wouldn't be going to the store anytime soon, that was something he was certain of.
The last time he went—about a month ago—he was harassed by a crowd of witches and wizards who shamed him for picking the wrong side in the war. A traitor, they had called him.
After Lucius Malfoy, his father, was imprisoned in Azkaban, an article about Draco came out in the Daily Prophet about how badly his father had failed since Draco became a Death Eater so young. After that, there was no going back. Everyone in the wizarding world knows Draco Malfoy as a traitor.
Draco begrudgingly summoned a flame with his wand and began to toast his stupid, disgusting bread. If you had servants, this wouldn't be happening, his father's voice said in Draco's mind.
"Shut up," Draco said aloud. His toast for dinner was bad enough, he didn't need to be thinking about what his father would say about it as well.
So he ate his miserable toast in silence, the only sound being the trickling of rain against the windows that slowly built up to a steady drumming. A storm was unleashing it's full strength on the Malfoy Manor, as if Mother Nature had decided to unleash her fury on Draco as well.
Silence except for the rain. And then...
POP!
A loud crack sounded outside and Draco abruptly pushed himself up from the dining table, wand at the ready. His eyes were alert as he rushed to the window, scanning the grounds outside.
He knew that sound.
It was the sound of apparition, which meant that Draco had a visitor: something that hadn't happened in a very long time.
Draco half-sprinted to the door—he wanted to run but his pride said to saunter cooly—and flung it open wide, throwing up a shield with his wand to protect himself from both the rain and the potentially-dangerous visitor.
He narrowed his eyes at the person struggling up his walkway. Draco couldn't make out who exactly it was due to the rain, but he could tell they were injured.
"Identify yourself!" Draco shouted, taking a step toward them and raising his wand.
The visitor looked up and when they locked eyes, Draco knew exactly who it was.
Hermione Granger.
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HAVEN | dramione
FanfictionIt's been two years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and Draco Malfoy's life has never been worse. His father's in Azkaban and his mother is dead, while Draco himself has become the poster child of old student Death Eaters--a life he's tried to leave i...
