𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 | 𝐝.𝐦

𝟔𝟕

Draco Malfoy | July 1996

"Are you not able to go to her home and... talk to her, Draco?" Lucius' lips curled into a nasty snarl.

"The Lord wanted me to be discreet," Draco said evenly, hiding the sudden irritation he got from his father. "Therefore, I can not go to her home because that wouldn't be discreet and sly. Her family could see me, and they'd know."

He easily made sure not to mention that Kaimana did in fact know this was all a task. His father didn't need to know because his father was just a piece of shit.

"You've done absolutely nothing since you've been given this task, Draco." Lucius' voice was ice. "You were given this task in December, and it is now August. I doubt Valencia is that hard to gain trust from if she's easily opened her legs to get herself pregnant and not knowing who the father is. Irresponsible and sleazy, that is."

Draco felt a flicker of deadly darkness run through his blood. Such vile words said by such an odious man.

Dracco tried not to let himself explode with anger and rage and protectiveness, because he felt such an overwhelming amount of emotions as soon as those words left his father's mouth.

He would deal with his father later.

Now even though Kaimana never wrote back or exchanged a word with him on the train ride to King's Cross, Draco would not let anyone talk about his lady as grisly as his father just did.

"Well, it is utterly hard to gain trust from her," Draco eventually said as he rubbed his jaw to cover how he clenched it instantly.

Lucius sipped whiskey from his glistening glass before placing it back down on the coaster.

They were sitting at the kitchen table since Draco had been eating a bowl of soup his mother made—she wanted to try cooking some things herself—and Lucius had walked in, home from whatever shit he did.

"Oh, hi, Lucius." Narcissa walked into the kitchen from fetching something in the library—a book she was excited to have her son read since she had fun with it. "When did you get home?"

"Not long ago. Just having a chat with your son." Lucius smiled at his wife.

"Our son," Narcissa clarified, and stood next to Draco's seat. "Here, dear. Read it when you get the chance. I loved it," she said to him, putting the book beside his bowl of half-eaten soup.

"Thank you." Draco shot her a small, grateful smile.

"Narcissa, my dear, don't you think it's a bit strange that our son has gotten no progress with Valencia?" Lucius' tone was even with the unmistakable underlayer of taunt.

"Well." Narcissa stayed by her son, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I think that he's trying, and Valencia may simply be hard to break through. There are people like that. You're aware of that, right?"

Draco tried not to smile at how his mother was finally standing her ground and not immediately siding with her feral husband.

Lucius tilted his head, looking like he was trying not to let his irritation show. He smiled a chilling smile. "I suppose you're right," he said in a soft voice, but still so chilling that it made Draco feel goosebumps. "When's dinner?"

"Soon." Narcissa smiled warmly. "I've asked the elves to prepare something more... new and unfamiliar for us. Why not step out of our comfort zone."

"I love it." Lucius' smile widened, but the depths of his smile were dark.

♧︎

Draco stood at his dresser, his eyes staring at his own reflection.