Chapter 2
Draco’s words played over and over in your mind as you sat in your new bed. Was he threatening you or was it a challenge? You knew dinner would likely be served soon, but seeing him again before you had gathered your thoughts made you more anxious than you cared to admit to yourself - instead, you lay your head down on the lavish pillow and drifted off. As dinner approached, Narcissa ordered Draco to fetch you to eat, which he begrudgingly obeyed. Storming up the stairs and pushing the door open without even a knock, he opened his mouth to order you down to eat, but stopped dead in his tracks. There you lay, showering in light from the setting sun streaming through the bay window. Your hair sprawled around your head like a halo and skirt bunched up at the top of your thighs. He wanted to wake you up with a rude remark, or leave you there without dinner but he couldn’t move. For a long moment, knowing no one would see his guard down, he took in your beauty - though he wouldn’t dare admit it to himself. He couldn’t help but to stare, wondering what you were dreaming about. Then his eyes trailed down your chest, softly rising and falling, to your naked thighs, and he felt a familiar throbbing against his tight dress pants. Without thinking, he stepped in, closing the door behind him and softly palming himself through his pants. He battled himself internally, trying to justify him touching himself to a mudblood, but his thoughts quickly fogged with pleasure.
Before he was able to talk himself out of it, he inched closer to you, groaning softly as he continued to palm himself. You were suddenly pulled out of sleep as he moaned, squealing as you saw the tall boy standing beside your bed. He threw his hand over your mouth to quieten you, and you started to panic.
“Shhh. Don’t..Don’t yell.” he paused, trying to gather himself and pull his shirt over the bulge that had grown in his pants. “It’s dinner,” he continued, still breathing heavily. “Eat or don’t. I don’t care but it’s ready.”
You looked up at him dazed, his last words earlier coming back to you quickly. You suddenly became very aware of your skirt ridden up and pulled it back down to cover some of your legs.
“I’ll, I’ll eat,” you stammered, wondering how long he had stood there before you woke up, and what,,,what was the noise that woke you? You tried to brush it off, sliding down the oversized bed away from him, and to your feet. He towered over you, and you couldn’t help feeling dwarfed by him. You could tell he was thinking about something as he stared at you, but his cool demeanour and stern face never gave anything away.
As you entered the large dining room of the manor, it took you a moment to take it all in. The table was large enough for 20 people, though it would only be the four of you eating. It felt strange, and rather lonely, after eating at a small table in your apartment with just your mother for so long. The house elf, who still had no name floated large silver plates of food to the table, lit candles floating above it. Though it was all very beautiful, you still felt resentment toward your new “family” for their wealth, and for the values that Draco had made you all too aware of. Narcissa urged you to sit, and to your disappointment, Draco sat directly across from you. As the four of you started to eat, Narcissa began trying to get to know you better than your father had told her about, only frustrating you more. You still didn’t trust that she had fully divorced her ideas of blood purity after the war, and entertaining the conversation now living with her made you all the more nervous.
“What do you know about the wizarding world, dear? When did you find out you were a witch?” she urged. You balled your fists under the table, digging your nails into your palms as you thought of a calm answer.
“Well,” you breathed another shaky breath “Father had told me when I was young, but my mother never allowed me to go to Hogwarts for her own reasons. I guess she was worried about me. I never really learned how to use my magic.” you finally looked up at her to gauge her reaction. Her mouth was pressed together into an awkward smile and you could tell what she was thinking is not what she would say. You felt a pang in your chest, thinking of the years and memories at Hogwarts you missed out on, and what your life would look like if you had been allowed to go.
“Father gave me some books when he decided to bring me..here,” you continued, “But I haven’t had a chance to read much of them yet.”
“Well dear, you certainly have missed out on quite a lot,” She replied after what felt like an eternity of silence. “Draco,” she started, looking over at him but he cut her off instantly.
“No. No don’t even try an-” he tried.
“Son I don’t want to hear it,” She looked back at you, ignoring his look of protest. “I’ll have Draco start to tutor you. Try and get you…up to speed,” she said through an awkward smile. Your Father, choosing this moment to finally acknowledge you, perked up.
“That sounds perfect! Be polite and thank them,” he pushed.
You gritted your teeth. Though you definitely could use the help, being tutored by the one person who seemed to hate you most felt like a trap. “Thank you Narcissa,” you said, half meaning it. She nodded toward her son beside her, and you finally looked up and him. His grey eyes pierced through yours and you felt like he was seeing straight through your soul.
“Th..Thank you, I guess,” you mumbled shyly. Though he angered you to near violence, you couldn’t help but feel meek, looking up at him. He begrudgingly nodded, rolling his eyes, but his eyes stayed on yours for a moment longer than you expected.
“We’ll start tomorrow,” his velvet voice breaking the moment’s silence surprised you. Your mind raced, thinking about being taught, one on one by Draco Malfoy, and what that might involve. You knew he was a death eater in the recent past - and a very prolific one at that, and though it made you nervous, you weren’t scared. You were almost excited. You imagined him using his wand to cast spells you were yet to learn - his large, ring clad hand wrapped around his wand…then your own hand, or your throat. You caught yourself daydreaming and internally scolded yourself. What were you doing?
That’s Draco fucking Malfoy you yelled at yourself mentally. And he’s your goddamn step-brother! You shifted in your seat, both in embarrassment and arousal. You stole a quick glance up at him, and to your shock, for the first time since you had met him, he wasn’t brooding. His mouth was curled up on one side into an amused grin. You dropped your gaze back down to your plate. Could he know? You wondered. That’s ridiculous. How could he know, you reasoned with yourself. You tried to focus on something; anything but the images your mind had flashed before you but you kept finding yourself back in those thoughts.
You had never slept with anyone, and for lack of better words, you knew you were quite inexperienced in that regard. Innocent even - But the thought of his long fingers in your mouth, or in your increasingly heating core made you squirm in your seat. The conversation your father and Narcissa were having sounded like a muffled blur in the background of your thoughts. You wondered what he would look like under his tailored black shirt - If he would have scars from the war, or if somehow, he had healed them away. Your cheeks burned at the thought, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your pleated skirt. Finally, dinner came to an end and you were able to excuse yourself. You went up to your room to start to unpack your trunk. You pulled your clothes out one by one, putting them on hangers when you heard a low, raspy chuckle at the door. You swung around to find Draco leaning on the door frame with a smug look on his face.
“What?!” you snapped at him and he shook his head, still laughing
“You mudbloods make things so difficult,” he said before waving his wand casting a silent spell, and each item of clothing flew into the closet on hangers. Your eyes narrowed at him.
“I didn’t need your help, asshole,” you scowled, embarrassed more than you were angry.
“Fucking brat you are,” he stepped closer to you without wiping the smug look off his face. “I know you want my help. You need my help. You made that more than obvious at dinner,” he snickered. Though you didn’t want to believe he somehow read your mind earlier, the blood drained from your face and you stepped back.
“Don’t worry, mudblood - I’ll teach you about that too in our little lessons.” He was now inches from you, leaning down to your height, demeaningly. He smelled of peppermint and some sort of whiskey, and it was almost impossible to remain angry when you could feel his breath on your neck and his heady scent filled you with the same thoughts you had at dinner. You did everything you could to fight the unwanted thoughts of your new step-brother from your mind, and though you didn’t want him to leave, you shoved his hard chest away begging him to get out.