Blaire Zabini || Draco Malfoy

4 - Living it up the Muggle Way

Two weeks into the summer holidays, Mother stuck her head around my bedroom door.

"Darling, I've just received an owl from my old friend Narcissa," she said as I reluctantly pulled my face away from the mirror to look at her, "apparently her son has been asking about you going over to stay."

She paused to give me a long pointed look.

"Great?" I said, shrugging casually before turning back to the mirror. She was clearly bothered about something and I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction by asking what.

"I didn't know you were getting friendly with a boy," she said, placing her hands on her hips, "and now you're expecting me to agree to having sleepovers?!"

"I'm not expecting anything from you, Mother," I said in a droll tone as I carefully continued to apply my mascara.

"Boys, though? Really?" Mother spat, evidently rattled as she stepped uninvitedly into my room.

"I'm not you, Mother," I sighed, "I'm quite capable of talking to a boy without wanting to jump him."

"How dare-" she stopped mid-sentence; her face apoplectic with rage.

In the end, when I pointed out that at least I'd be out of her hair, she agreed for me to go, on the condition that I don't step foot inside his bedroom.

"Gladly," I muttered, rolling my eyes; as if I wanted to go wading through a smelly room full of discarded crap, anyway.

As it was, Narcissa had my room made up fit for a sodding queen.

I gave a low whistle as I stood in the doorway.

"It's not much, I know," she said as her eyes roamed anxiously over the massive four poster bed which was bigger than a small house.

I also had my own adjoining bathroom complete with both a sauna and a hot tub.

"Is your room like that too?" I asked Draco when I joined him later so he could give me a tour of the grounds.

"Good god, no," he scoffed disgustedly as if he considered the quality of the guest rooms beneath him, "I'm sure you'll survive a few nights, though."

We walked for what seemed like miles. I had no idea how big the grounds of Malfoy Manor were but it had the appearance of a small country to me.

"Come and check out my treehouse," he smirked, oddly boastful for a twelve year old boy who had just admitted he had a five year old's plaything.

However, when I saw it, I understood his smugness.

"This is not a treehouse, Drac," I said, folding my arms in front of my chest as we went up in the makeshift elevator, "it's a pissing treemansion."

He carried on smirking as he pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the front door.

I followed him into a massive echoey hallway that put Malfoy Manor's actual one to shame.

"Um - wow," I said turning round on the spot, feeling utterly speechless. "This sure is something else."

"Wait till you see what I've got upstairs," he winked, before beckoning me to follow him up the marbled staircase.

Ten minutes later we were sitting side by side on beanbags in front of a massive television, playing a thing he called a PlayStation and eating an array of Muggle sweets.

"Just don't tell my father," he warned me, throwing his head back to empty a packet of Skittles into his gob.

Wow; something he didn't want his father to hear about at last.