Young (Drarry Fanfic)

Who Do You Love?

Who do you love now?
I wanna know the truth.

— Who Do You Love? (The Chainsmokers)

~oOo~

With a stifled sigh, Draco puts down the file he's been reading and massages his temple. The beginnings of a monstrous headache is starting to pound an uneven beat in his skull.

Feeling incomparably drained, Draco tilts his head back and closes his eyes. He has overworked himself to near exhaustion before, but he's never been this tired, not even when he had worked long hours in the emergency ward back in France.

"I must be coming down with something," he muses absently.

A short knock suddenly claims his wandering attention. He looks up and finds Pansy and Blaise standing just outside his doorway, eyeing him warily. It's clear from their countenance that the two are trying to gauge his mood.

Draco quirks a weary smile at his friends, "Well, this is quite a surprise."

Noting his pale and haggard appearance, Pansy's face crumples with worry.

"You look unwell, Draco," she says, striding into his office. "You shouldn't be at work."

Draco shrugs offhandedly, leaning back into his chair. His eyes shift towards Blaise; his gaze filled with question. The latter is strangely reticent and the look on his face is making Draco ill at ease.

"Something on your mind, Blaise?" Draco asks with feigned nonchalance.

Blaise and Pansy share a meaningful glance, to which Draco can't help but furrow his brow. He sits up, back rigid; anxiety boiling in the pit of his empty stomach, making him nauseous.

Blaise nervously clears his throat.

"If you have something to say, just fucking spit it out," Draco hisses in annoyance, suddenly defensive.

Blaise sighs, arching an eyebrow at Pansy, who simply nods in silence, urging him to continue.

Blaise gingerly approaches Draco's desk, "I understand you have your reasons for not telling me, Draco, and I respect that. However..."

"However?" Draco prompts through clenched teeth, impatience evident in his rising tone as he glares venomously at Pansy.

She ignores him, opting instead to meticulously examine her immaculate manicure.

"I heard everything from your mother..." Blaise shrugs, sinking into one of the chairs and subsequently frowning in discomfort.

Stunned by the revelation, Draco's brewing anger quickly evaporates. He thought Pansy had betrayed his confidence.

"Mother?"

"Yes, your own mother, Narcissa Malfoy, told him," Pansy replies tartly, settling her shapely bum onto Draco's desk. "I know you thought it was me."

"Why in Salazar's name would she—?" Draco mutters in disbelief.

"She was frantic, Draco. Worried for Scorpius. We all are..." Pansy sighs, cutting him off.

"She floo'd me two days ago, demanding to know Harry's whereabouts. She was nearly hysterical, which quite frankly terrified me. I quickly explained to her that I was magically bound by the privacy stipulations on Harry's contract, and because of that, I couldn't divulge anything about his personal matters unless the situation involved his family..." Blaise trails off, giving Draco a complicated look.