The Villa
Chapter 2: The Villa
Draco and Theo landed unceremoniously at the edge of a vineyard. Dusting themselves off, they looked around to see where they had landed. Surrounded by grapevines for miles on all sides of them, looking up toward the looming Villa, the two boys ventured to the top of a large rolling hill.
Once over the crest, Draco was surprised at what he saw. Living in Malfoy Manor, he was used to grandeur, but this—the Villa was exquisite. He wished his mother could see it, she would adore it and its Mediterranean architecture.
“Buongiorno!” Blaise came strolling out of the Villa, his dark skin contrasted by his white linen shirt and khaki trousers.
“Buongiorno, mate!” Theo echoed back excitedly. The tall, brunette had grown at least another two inches in just the one month they had been separated.
“Hey, Blaise” Draco smiled up at them both. He could feel the warmth of the summer morning sun on his cheeks and his chest swelled with adoration for his friends. He had real friends.
The trio, reunited at last, strolled into the Villa no more than twenty paces before they were pummeled by a squealing Pansy Parkinson.
“Draco! Theo! Thank Circe you’re here! This prat has been blathering on in Italian and I can’t understand a word of it,” she pouted childishly. “I’ve been here nearly a week and I haven’t had a single glass of wine yet, it’s ridiculous!”
“It’s been three days, Pansy.” Blaise rolled his eyes at the little witch and she huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well it feels like weeks!”
The boys snickered at her whinging, and the group moved onto the veranda. Mrs. Zabini was lying on a lounge chair on the terrace below, sunning herself as she read a small book.
“Mother,” Blaise called down to her and she glanced up in their direction. “Draco and Theodore have arrived.”
“Fantastico, vita mia!” She waved her hand up at them, then went back to her reading.
“I didn’t know your mum spoke Italian—“ Theo began.
“She doesn’t. She promised Marco she would learn it and she’s put it off so long he was starting to get angry with her. He doesn’t speak much English at all so they fight a lot, ya know miscommunications and all that,” Blaise’s face was twisted in disgust as he spoke about the man. Draco had been under the impression he liked Marco, but judging by his friend's uncharacteristic facial expressions, he did not.
“Well I want to try some wine, Blaise. Please?! You said we could when Draco and Theo got here and look—they’re here!” Pansy practically begged.
The boys all shared looks of exasperation, but Blaise led them to an entertaining room filled with a poker table and a fully stocked bar. This must be Marco’s .
“Vinky,” Blaise called and a wizened old House Elf appeared before them. “Please gather a small assortment of wines for a tasting.”
The old Elf nodded, asking, “Would Master Blaise like a charcuterie board as well?”
Theo clapped gleefully like a child, “Yes!”
Blaise nodded to the Elf in confirmation and with a POP! she was gone.
Each of the preteens took a seat around the poker table and Theo reached for the deck of self-shuffling cards. None of them had played much, but had all seen their fathers play during parties and business meetings. Blaise opened a secret compartment under the table and pulled out a tray of poker chips and some rule cards which he passed around to the others.
They settled on a game of Texas Hold ‘Em and the rules seemed pretty straight forward. Draco had a decent first hand he’d thought, but quickly lost a lot of chips. After that round, he decided to be overly frugal with his fake galleons.
They each took turns dealing, and as it turned out, the more wine Pansy drank, the better she got at card games. It was somewhat jarring how well she bluffed, as if lying through body language was second nature to her. She had always been a somewhat devious child in order to get her way with her parents, but the way she played poker was downright genius.
After Pansy was sufficiently drunk (which didn’t take more than two over-poured glasses), the boys had Vinky apparate her to her room. They were sure she was going to start throwing up any moment, seeing the greenish tinge on her face.
Blaise began packing away the poker chips and cards on the table. As he did so, he filled the other two boys in on why Pansy had come so much earlier and why he hadn’t let her drink any wine until he had backup. The fiercely independent girl always had a knack for taking things too far, and Blaise had correctly guessed this would be one of those times.
Draco had taken sips out of his glass much like Theo and Blaise—they were accustomed to having a little wine at dinner on occasion. Pansy, on the other hand, had been denied any request to try a drink at dinner.
Her parents claimed she was quite too young for such a thing and should be focusing on more fruitful endeavors such as trying to lose the baby fat in her cheeks. Pansy of course had read between the lines and taken that for exactly the insult it was. She then spent the remainder of her time at home causing as much trouble and stuffing her face with all the food she could manage before announcing she was leaving to stay with the Zabini's the rest of the summer. The Parkinson’s were more than glad to be rid of her by then, and poor Pansy left the next morning.
Unfortunately, the only person who seemed to keep Pansy’s antics under some semblance of control was Daphne Greengrass—who wasn’t set to arrive for another week or two. The Greengrass family was vacationing in the U.S. and had already extended their trip twice from what Theo had told them.
Why was Theo owling Daph all summer? Nobody sent me any owls except Blaise…
“So why were you and Daph talking all summer, eh?” Blaise asked playfully for him.
Theo suddenly looked embarrassed—his cheeks turning pink and his hands began fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
“It’s nothing. She’s my friend, okay?” Theo answered defensively.
“Since when are you that close of a friend with any of the girls?” Draco asked, honestly curious. The only female he had any intention of actually conversing with this year was Granger and how could he not? She was brilliant. Daphne was—smart. She was pretty, and witty, and nice enough, but Granger was…well Granger.
“Since I ran into her at St. Mungo’s just after term ended,” Theo shot back—suddenly regretting his choice of words.
“Why were you at St. Mungo’s? Why was she at St. Mungo’s?” Both boys shouted immediately.
“Relax, I was trying to get into my old man’s liquor cabinet and the prick put a Defodio on it! He gouged out half my chest!” Theo undid the top half of his buttons and showed them his new scar. It was huge in comparison to anything Draco or Blaise had ever seen. A large angry red scar spread from the center of his chest and stretched over toward his right shoulder. It spanned nearly the entire top half of his pectoral muscle. “Daph was just visiting her sister and we crossed paths.”
Thank Merlin it wasn’t the left side .
Draco sucked in a breath. He punched Theo hard in the left shoulder and stormed off. He hadn’t seen much of the Villa yet, but he knew he had to get away. Neither Blaise nor Theo followed after him. He needed space to process—to process that his best friend almost died.
He almost died and wasn’t even going to tell me? Does he even think of me as a friend? Doesn’t he know he’s one of my only friends?! What am I supposed to do if he’s gone? I can’t even imagine losing Theo—sweet, funny, goofy, dramatic Theo…
Draco felt a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t realized it, but his fear gave way to anger. He rounded on whoever had the audacity to confront him when he looked into Pansy’s sad eyes—swollen and red-rimmed from crying.
Damn it .
Just another friend Draco needed to worry about. He was only twelve! How was he supposed to navigate all of this. He was the youngest out of them all with Blaise being the oldest. He felt like he was supposed to be a leader to their band of misfits— funny, that’s what I used to think Potter’s little group of friends were…but we’re just as misfortunate as they are. At least we don’t flaunt it around the school to be pitied .
Draco took Pansy’s clammy and pale hand and led her back to her bedroom, which was only a few doors down from where he had wandered. They silently went in and both flopped back onto the bed, emotionally exhausted.
“Am I really that fat?” Pansy asked as a little sob escaped her lips.
Draco rolled to face her immediately, enraged, “Absolutely not! Pans, you are beautiful, smart, ferocious, you’re everything Pansy Ophelia Parkinson, and if your parents can’t see that—“
Pansy grabbed his face and pressed a peck to his lips before quickly pushing him out of the bed, then the bedroom completely, slamming the door in his face.
What the bloody hell was THAT?!
…
That evening, Pansy didn’t arrive for dinner, opting to take her meal in her room. The boys didn’t speak much throughout the main courses except to note how Mrs. Zabini had also elected to have dinner in her suite alone. By dessert, however, Theo couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
“Draco, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay? I figured you guys would make fun of me for talking to one of the girls all summer!” Theo pleaded from across the table, nearly knocking his glass over in the process.
Draco’s eyes hardened as he pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. Leaning over and pointing his finger in Theo’s face, he yelled, “You think I’m mad because of a GIRL?! Theo, I’m mad because you DIDN’T TELL ME YOU ALMOST DIED YOU GIT! ”
Blaise leaned back in his chair, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin and enjoying the show.
“Wh-what? You don’t care that I was owling Daph all summer?” Theo sputtered.
“No! Why in Merlin’s name would I care about that?” Draco rolled his eyes, it was getting difficult to stay mad at Theo with his innocent puppy dog eyes.
“I didn’t think you guys would want to know—“
“We’re your best friends, mate, why in the bloody hell wouldn’t we want to know you were in St. Mungo’s? We care about you—I care about you, man,” Draco said sadly.
“Now kiss and make up,” Blaise mocked.
Theo and Draco both picked up a handful of chocolate cake and threw it at him and he nearly fell out of his chair trying to avoid the onslaught. The three boys fell into a fit of laughter as they flung food everywhere.
Their friendship newly restored, the trio headed out to the grounds, gathering a few old broomsticks from a shed, and took off for an evening flight. They circled the vineyards and skimmed over a mirrored lake nearby. The young boys twisted and flipped, diving and racing around each other just enjoying the summer night air. As they approached the Villa to land, Draco did one last swoop around the home, noticing there was just one light left on—Pansy’s.
…
A few days later, Daphne arrived at the Villa sporting her new American attire—a plaid mini skirt, that was, in fact, very mini. She wore her long hair up in a high ponytail and the ends of her blonde mane still brushed the middle of her back. Daphne too, had grown at least an inch, thinning her even more than she had been last year.
Theo and Daphne were nearly inseparable the rest of their stay at the Zabini Villa. Pansy had only just begun to join the group again once Daphne appeared, but Draco could tell she felt snubbed by her bubbly blonde friend’s new pal. Pansy went back to spending much of her time holed up in her room and completely avoiding Draco at all costs.
He elected to take an occasional meal up to her, and would knock hoping she might at least explain what had happened between them. Draco had no such luck. By the end of August, the young teens all departed for their own homes to get ready for the school year.
…
When Draco arrived back at Malfoy Manor, his mother was consoling a crying Dobby.
“Mistress must punish Dobby! Dobby has failed!”
the House Elf sobbed uncontrollably.
“Now, now, Dobby, Master has another plan. Things will be alright, dear.” Narcissa attempted to calm the poor thing. She shot an exasperated look at her son before waving him off to his room.
“Dobby is no good with the acting, Mistress must punish Dobby!” Draco heard the Elf continue on as he headed up the stairs to his room. His father had brought Dobby home after a trip to the Ministry one day about a year ago—something about the Dolohov’s losing their estate. Dobby became Lucius’s personal House Elf, but he came with a lot of baggage as well. The Elf was always trying to punish himself for minuscule things, even when someone paid him a kindness. Dobby was drastically different from the House Elf that had raised Draco.
Mippy was his mother’s House Elf—passed down from mother to daughter. Bellatrix was in Azkaban when Draco’s grandmother Druella passed, and with Andromeda disowned, Mippy passed to Narcissa. She had always been the favorite daughter and Mippy’s favorite young mistress anyway.
Draco forgot all thoughts about House Elves the moment he entered his room. He had a small stack of letters waiting for him on his bed—their ivory envelopes standing out against his ebony comforter.
The first he tore open—his Hogwarts letter—in the familiar script of his least favorite professor. He skimmed over the beginning, and went straight to the book list to see if he would need to buy any new ones.
SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:
The Standard Book of Spells , Grade by Miranda Goshawk
Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart
Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
43 Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart
Draco rolled his eyes. His new D.A.D.A Professor must be a young witch if she’s so obsessed with Gilderoy Lockhart. Pansy and Daphne had chattered on about the fool more than a few times during their stay at the Villa. The girls fancied him, even Mrs. Zabini had joined them on more than one occasion noting how fit the man was.
Great a whole year of listening to someone drone on about how great Gilderoy Lockhart is .
He discarded the letter and opened a few more. There was one from Vince and one from Greg asking if he wanted to meet up and go to the Hogwarts Express together. Draco scribbled his reply that he would meet up with them on the Platform since he had been gone most of the summer.
Grabbing the last letter, he looked at the envelope. It was a thinner material—nothing like parchment. The paper the letter was written on was so thin it was nearly see-through and it was a bleached bright white. Written in rounded print, instead of script, was a simple “Malfoy” on the envelope. He had a feeling he knew who wrote it.
Malfoy,
You never told me why you were helping us at the end of the school year. I haven’t said anything to Harry or Ron that you were there with us, but I know I’m a terrible secret-keeper and I’m afraid I might accidentally let it slip once we’re back together again. You’ll be returning to Hogwarts this year, I’m sure. I’ll be shopping for supplies in Diagon Alley this Wednesday, maybe you can catch up with me before the boys do.
Yours,
Hermione J. Granger
P.S—if I don’t see you then, maybe we can meet up for sweets on the train again, my treat this time.
Draco read and re-read the letter. She wrote to him. She wanted to see him outside of school—to meet up with him on the train? He felt a strange tingle in his gut, but pushed the fluttering aside. She wanted answers and he wasn’t sure how much he could or even should tell her. She even admitted in her letter that she’s terrible at keeping secrets. Besides, she spends an exorbitant amount of time with Potter and Weasley…
Wait, Wednesday? Today is Wednesday!
“Mother!” Draco called as he threw his shoes back on and raced out of his room.
“Yes, darling?” She answered with an all-knowing smile. “Would you like to take a trip to Diagon Alley this afternoon for some book shopping?”
Narcissa looked like the cat that caught the canary.
“Uhhh, yes I was just going to ask you that…” Draco admitted, becoming rather suspicious of his mother.
“Wonderful, are you ready to go then? Your father is going to meet us there, he just got back from Paris this morning,” she replied cheerily.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Draco began then abruptly added, “how did you know?”
“You should buy Miss Granger some parchment and envelopes—in fact, let’s get her a new stationary set all together. While I enjoy being able to snoop so easily, I dare say it’s not very safe to inquire about secrets with near see-through paper.” Narcissa winked at her son and turned toward the Floo.
Draco stood still for a moment, stuck to the spot he was standing on. Realizing his mother had read the letter, he knew he was in for it until the moment he left for Hogwarts—she would be relentless in her needling about Granger.
Grabbing a pinch of the green powder from the glass container on the mantle, Draco threw the Floo powder into the fireplace, “Diagon Alley”, and he stepped into the flames.