Chapter 22
Draco Malfoy sauntered into the grand dining room of Malfoy Manor, his trademark smirk firmly in place. The house-elves had outdone themselves, as usual, setting the table with the finest china and silverware. He took his seat across from his mother, Narcissa, who was watching him with her usual calm, piercing gaze.
“Draco,” she began, her voice cool and measured, “it’s good to have you home.”
Draco leaned back in his chair, lazily swirling the goblet of wine before taking a sip. “It’s good to be home, Mother.”
Dinner began in silence, the clinking of cutlery on porcelain the only sound filling the room. Draco knew his mother well enough to sense when she was about to broach a serious topic. He could feel her eyes on him, waiting for the right moment.
Finally, she spoke, her tone deceptively light. “I’ve been hearing some rather interesting stories about you, Draco.”
He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh? Do tell.”
Narcissa didn’t return his smile. “Severus has written to me. He’s concerned about your… entanglement with a Muggle-born girl, Hermione Granger.”
Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Severus needs to mind his own business. Hermione’s just an annoyance, nothing more.”
Narcissa’s gaze didn’t waver. “And yet, Mrs. Greengrass tells me you’ve been spending a significant amount of time with her daughter, Astoria.”
Draco shrugged, smirking. “Astoria’s good company. Better than the rest of the dullards at Hogwarts.”
Narcissa set down her fork, her expression stern. “Draco, I need the truth. What exactly is going on with these girls?”
He leaned back, crossing his arms defiantly. “Why does it matter, Mother? It’s my life.”
“It matters,” she replied, her voice tightening, “because your actions reflect on this family. On our name.”
Draco sighed dramatically, as if the conversation bored him. “Fine. You want the truth? Hermione is a challenge. She’s smart, and she doesn’t take my nonsense. It’s entertaining. Astoria, on the other hand, is sweet and easy. It’s fun to mess with both of them.”
Narcissa’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Draco, this is not a game. You cannot toy with people’s feelings like this.”
“Why not?” he shot back, his tone insolent. “It’s not like they don’t know what they’re getting into. Besides, it’s not like you and Father didn’t play your own games.”
Narcissa’s expression hardened. “This is different, Draco. The world is watching us closely, waiting for us to slip. We cannot afford any scandals. You need to decide where your loyalties lie.”
Draco laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. “Loyalties? Really, Mother, you sound so dramatic. I know what I’m doing.”
“You think you do,” she retorted, her voice icy, “but you are young and reckless. Hermione Granger is not someone you can afford to be involved with. Her very existence in your life is a threat to everything we stand for.”
Draco’s smirk faded, replaced by a stubborn set to his jaw. “And Astoria? Is she the perfect little pureblood princess you want me to marry?”
Narcissa’s gaze softened slightly, but her resolve remained firm. “Astoria would be a suitable match. She comes from a respected family, and she understands our world. With her, you could secure your future.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need you to tell me how to secure my future, Mother. I’ll do it my way.”
Narcissa sighed, the tension between them palpable. “Draco, I only want what is best for you. Your father and I have sacrificed much to ensure our place in this world. Don’t throw it all away on a whim.”
Draco stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’m not throwing anything away. I’m living my life. Maybe it’s time you let me.”
With that, he turned and stormed out of the dining room, leaving Narcissa alone with her thoughts and her worries. As he made his way to his room, Draco felt a pang of guilt but quickly shoved it aside. He had always been a Malfoy, and Malfoys did what they wanted, consequences be damned.