The Kiss
In that split second, the taste of strawberry candy and artificial sweetness brought back memories of the summer where Draco gorged himself sick on freshly picked berries from the bushes that lined his house. The kiss lingered for a moment longer than his previous kiss, but in his nervousness and creeping embarrassment, he wouldn’t call the kiss passionate. The only words he could think of were shy, rushed, and again. Maeve looked towards him with a bewildered blush on her face, lightly touching her lips as she processed the moment. She giggled and reached out a hand towards Draco but decided against whatever she was thinking, letting her hand drop. Draco stared back in shock, trying to piece together an apology. The only thing that he could muster was the sputtering of vowels along the lines of her name.
“Merlin. I- You’re… Ah, Good… Good night, Draco!” Maeve squeaked as she turned to the painting that swung open without requiring a password, instead waxing squeals of young love that was lost on the ears of a fleeing Draco. He could barely fight the creeping smile on his face, feeling like he was floating all the way down to the Slytherin stairs. He ran into other students dreamily roaming the halls as the dance concluded, avoiding the gaze from groups of girls from both Hogwarts and Beauxbatons with flushed giggles as well as dumbstruck boys. It brought him small comfort that he wasn’t the only person stuck in a lovestruck haze wandering the castle, but he wondered what the talk would be like in the dorms after tonight. Draco was sure that Maeve would tell Pansy. He wondered if she would even talk to her dreaded roommates about it too. Would Lovegood know? Then Granger, Weasley, and Potter?
Draco steadied his running mind by wiping his increasingly sweaty hands on his dress robes, smearing any further tinges of regret and embarrassment. The kiss was better than any dream he ever had, even the one that made him faint in shame. Especially that dream. The warmth of her lips molding against his was like the comfort of tea during the coldest of winter. He wondered what the moment meant for the two of them now. His heart started to strain and sink at the thought of asking “what are we?”. He couldn’t consult Pansy and Blaise led him astray the last time he asked for advice. He didn’t think he could ask her casually in the library.
Hey, Prewett. That was pretty terrible of Flitwick to assign parchment over the winter break. You probably finished it before we left, didn’t you? Also are we like, boyfriend and girlfriend now?
Draco shuddered at the thought, and he appreciated that he was going to be able to mull over his anxieties for winter holiday. Fortunately, but oddly, the Slytherin common room was devoid of students. Draco slipped into his room, sealing himself off in his fourpost and drifted to sleep thinking about the soft curve of Maeve’s lips.
Winter holiday was one of the only times Draco wished for something other than solitude. As a kid, he built snowmen that he’d enchant to keep him company but come day time, they’d melt and he was left alone once again. The silence was desirable for the first few days, but then he’d think to his friends and a secret that he kept hidden at the bottom of his heart is that he would think to the Weasleys. Draco thought to Potter, Granger, and the Weasleys together in their burrow with the Prewett family like they had talked about in potions class a few weeks ago. He didn’t know if the bubbling feeling in his stomach was pity or jealousy. He would never admit the latter. Draco didn’t have any cousins and the Malfoys lived high in the mountains for any neighborly companionship. Holidays were spent alone with his family, which was desirable for Draco’s usual introverted nature, but he couldn’t deny that it got a little too quiet at times.
Draco was disappointed but not surprised when he used the Floo system to get home and stepped into the living room to silence. He was a little confused, as his mother was usually there to greet him back from school. Instead, a note stood in her place while Dobby ran around stringing up lights and laying out the skirt to the Christmas tree.
Dearest, we have headed out to gather more items for tonight’s festivities. I placed your clothes for tonight on your bed. Mum.
“Master Malfoy, welcome back,” Dobby greeted, bowing clumsily and dropping the lights he was holding. “How was Hogwarts, sir? How was the Yule Ball?”
“It was wonderful, thank you. I went with that girl I told you about last time. Maeve,” Draco fell to the couch to observe Dobby’s decorating. He had a soft spot for the house elf. His father was rather cruel to the elf, but in the absence of siblings, Draco had Dobby. He made Dobby swear to keep his secrets and while Draco was home, it was nice to talk aloud his feelings instead of writing them down. However, being a house elf, Dobby offered little to no advice, but rather praise and encouragement. Sometimes, that was what Draco desired.
“I told you that you should ask her,” Dobby chirped, making Draco smile a bit. “Sir, are you tired?”
“Just a bit, I can’t imagine having a party tonight after last night’s ball,” Draco groaned, rubbing his eyes. He had gotten up early to beat the rush of other students yet still had to wait his turn at the only Floo fireplace in the entire school. Admittedly, he was a little disappointed he didn’t get to see Maeve. “Would it be bad if I skipped?”
“Surely, sir. Members of the Ministry were invited along with their families. It will be a big celebration. Also, sir, your mother requested I leave your gifts in your room,” Dobby gestured to the top of the house with a large grin. Draco raised an eyebrow, considering the point of the Ministry members.
“Say, is there a guest list?” Draco stood up, following Dobby who nodded excitedly. Dobby pointed to a large book that was neatly placed on a table that was placed strategically to welcome guests as they entered through the front doors.
“Here you are, sir. Dobby must go sweep the fireplace now,” The house elf bid Draco bye and Draco paused for a moment until he was out of sight to crack open the guest list. He felt greedy and a little embarrassed, still he flipped towards the end of the book for the listing of “P” names. Confirming his suspicions, Gideon Prewett, Minister of Economics, was perfectly penned at the top of one of the pages. Draco closed the book quickly, trying to shake the silly giddy feeling bubbling in his chest.
Draco retired to his room to savor the part where the silence was enjoyable. He felt a little overwhelmed from the dance last night. Draco’s excitement was quickly veiled with nervousness when he realized while he would see Maeve tonight, he would have to see Maeve tonight. He worried about the less than twenty-four-hour turnaround of the kiss and didn’t think Christmas day was the best time to spring questions on her. He was also worried that he didn’t have a gift for her and weighed the consequences in his mind. Draco turned towards the small pile of gift boxes that were stacked neatly at the foot of his bed, which was definitely all from his mother’s doing. He decided to repurpose one of the boxes and to send Dobby on a mission to retrieve a suitable gift. He called upon his house elf and gave him broad directions to find “something shiny. With a butterfly on it” and carefully opened the rest of his gifts. His mother liked to gift him broadly with things like accessories that would benefit the family’s outlook. For this, Draco retrieved cuff links with a grand snake insignia and carefully placed blue jewels that looked three dimensional. He put those aside in his drawer of other cuff links that his mother had gifted him for his birthday, past Christmases, and any other occasion that called for a gift. There was also a new onyx wand handle with his name engraved in the bottom with striking silver lettering as well as an unfamiliar bottle of cologne and a gift that pleased him greatly: a new supple leather-bound notebook with his name designed across the front of it.
As Draco inspected all of his gifts, Dobby returned quicker than expected with small dust bag and a plate of cookies.
“For you, sir,” Dobby handed Draco the bag which was deceptively heavy. Draco rejected the entire plate of cookies, choosing only one, and ate it as he fumbled around with the bag. Dobby excused himself and Draco held his breath in anticipation. Dobby had oddly exquisite taste, which was probably learned from errands he ran for Draco’s mother. The cloth bag contained a box that was slightly larger than the length of Draco’s hand, which housed a delicate gold necklace with a pair of even daintier earrings that looked like fluttering butterflies. Draco ran a finger across the entire length of the necklace like a blessing, feeling each stone in its place. Of course, the worrying thoughts flooded his mind. Was it too much? Was it too little? Draco shook his head; he would’ve harnessed the moon should she ask. He didn’t realize how much he loved to give gifts until he saw the way her face lit up when he first gifted her the hairpin. He loved the way her eyes locked onto his, sparkling from joy and gratitude as well as the slightly quizzical expression, almost like she was trying to figure out what she had done to deserve the gift.
Draco’s mother stopped in momentarily to greet him with a kiss, telling him how much she missed him and how handsome he looked.
“Did you have fun at the Yule Ball last night? Who did you end up bringing?” Narcissa was always attentive of any of Draco’s woes. She’d smooth the furrow of his brow with simple affirmations, and she’d always remember even the littlest of problems. He had written to his mother briefly about the Yule Ball, particularly so that she would send him a new outfit for the occasion.
“Maeve Prewett. Er, uh, Gideon Prewett’s daughter,” Draco explained, suddenly feeling the familial pressure of choosing to get involved with someone who wasn’t a Slytherin. He imagined his mother scolding him for the entire side of both of his families were Slytherins.
“The Minister of Economic’s daughter? Isn’t she a Ravenclaw?” His mother asked amused, lifting an eyebrow in interrogation. Draco chewed the inside of his cheek in anticipation.
“Uh… Yes. Yes, she is. We have a lot of classes together,” Draco awkwardly bumbled. A bad feeling bubbled at his slight embarrassment.
“I’ve heard good things from Minister Prewett. They’re coming tonight. Maybe you’ll see her again,” His mother said without any tinge of malice, which relieved Draco. He didn’t press the issue further, no matter how hard his curiosities got to him. His mother patted his cheek, squeezing a little bit like she used to when he was a child after she had to scold him for making a mess in the living room or distracting Dobby from his chores. She hadn’t done that to him in a very long time. The action coupled with her tone made Draco teeter on the ledge of doubt. When she left without another word, Draco silently dressed himself for the night.