Orion's Belt | d.m

1.12

The smell of blood had disappeared from my nose as I walked down for dinner. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail, settling for a long sleeve white collared shirt and a black cashmere pullover vest with some dark jeans. I hummed to myself, a lullaby my mother used to sing to me, as I walked into the dining room. I paused at the doorway. Narcissa was sitting speaking with Draco at the table. She glanced up at me, smiling slightly.

"I'm glad to see you're better, Chloe. Please come sit." She motioned for the seat beside Draco as I slowly walked up to the table, glancing down at Draco. He was looking away from me, his hands clenched in his lap as I slowly sat down beside him. "Draco was telling me that you've grown close to Poppy." I raised an eyebrow at Narcissa as I nodded.

"He's been very welcoming." She smiled slightly.

"Did you use to have a house elf? Or did your Muggle mother not like that?" I flinched a bit.

"My Muggle mother's name was Anastasia...and yes we did have a house elf. She..died when my mother did." I felt Draco's sharp gaze on me for a second.

"How did your mother die, Chloe?"

"Mother.." Draco said quickly through gritted teeth. I frowned at the question.

"I'd rather not talk about it." I stated flatly. Narcissa glanced at me, picking up her teacup.

"I've known Antonin for quite a while. I never quite understood what he saw in your mother." I blinked in confusion.

"I thought you didn't know about my mother.." I said softly but Narcissa just stared at me with hard eyes.

"I don't so remind me..what did your father see in her?" I gripped my fork a bit tighter, poking at the salad in front of me. Draco had stiffened a bit as well.

"My mother was a ballet dancer. They met when she danced with Bolshoi Ballet." Narcissa was eyeing me an unreadable expression. It made me feel uncomfortable. It was like being under the spotlight. "My mother was a remarkable woman. If father was alive, he'd agree with me wholeheartedly."

Narcissa's lips slowly grew up into a smile as she chuckled softly.

"Yes, yes he would. He was very possessive over Anastasia. I met her once when Antonin had invited me to go watch one of her concerts. She was very talented. However it just seemed so odd with how fascinated he was in a Muggle."

"So you did meet her.."

"Vaguely. I left before it finished. I don't partake in Muggle affairs."

"I can't imagine why..." I muttered. They were all the same. Pure bloods. They continuously looked down upon muggles, halfbloods, and especially mud bloods. No matter how much I would stand up for my mother, nothing would change Narcissa's mind on that. I set my fork down only half eaten my dinner as I stood up.

"Thank you for dinner." I said quietly and turned away walking up to my room.

"Hey, Dolohov." I looked over my shoulder to see Draco behind me, eyebrows furrowed together. I sighed, leaning against the railing.

"What Malfoy. Come to rub it in my face that my Muggle mother wasn't good enough or something? Because-"

"Just shut up for a second, will you?" He said a bit louder. I frowned, clamping my mouth shut. He took a step forward on the bottom step, looking up at me. "I..my mother has no filter on her big mouth. So I..I'm..." I looked at him in confusion. He was running a hand through his hair clenching his jaw tightly together as if the next words were too hard for him to say.

"I apologize," he gritted his teeth harder together, "if my mother offended you in anyway." I blinked slowly at him my mouth open slightly.

"Did you...just say you're sorry to me?" Draco rolled his eyes, pushing past me as he grumbled something. I turned quickly reaching for his arm which I gently took hold of. He stopped, looking down at my hand than at me. I smiled slightly.

"Thanks Malfoy. That means a lot." He frowned, jerking his arm away from my grip.

"Don't touch me." He hissed, stalking up the stairs and slamming the door to his room. I smiled a bit more looking down at my hand. Usually Draco would feel very cold to her whenever she touched him but today..

He felt very warm.