AN: Just a quick drabble I wrote while pondering Draco's childhood. Please leave me a review! I'll love you forevermore ^.^
x : Proof in Firelight : x
By l0litapop
The boy was six years old. It was Christmas. The guests had left, and he sat on the plush emerald carpet in the sitting room, examining his new toys in soft, fleece pajamas. Despite the roaring fire, there was a distinct chill in the air that Malfoy Manor never seemed to shake, and Narcissa sat in one of the velvet armchairs, sipping what he could only assume was hot chocolate. She was a thin, beautiful woman, with pale skin, and at the time her hair had been dyed a sleek black. Draco sat, glancing up at her occasionally between making hushed vroom noises as he watched a charmed toy truck parade across the carpet. Though usually on-edge, his mother seemed strangely content tonight.
But when Lucius walked in, she stiffened, sitting up a bit straighter and gripping the mug a bit tighter. Draco looked up at his father, who seemed impossibly tall to him at that young age, trying to figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing that he made his mother so tense. Was she nervous because she loved him? Or was she nervous because she didn't?
He wondered often. Narcissa and Lucius fought far too much. Screaming matches, sometimes for many evenings in a row, were a staple in his life. And they said the nastiest things. Things that, if he repeated, would earn a harsh word from his mum and a worse punishment from his dad.
So were they in love? Did parents always love each other? Or just sometimes? As if to answer his question, Lucius strode confidently to his mum's armchair, causing her to sink back into it, eyeing him. He put his hands on the armrests, leaning in to look at her.
"Lucius, what—" She was cut off by his lips on hers. Draco would never forget the way the firelight danced off his parents, the way the mug nearly tipped over when Narcissa let one hand lazily drift up to her husband's glistening hair, only to break the kiss in moments. "Not in front of Draco!" There was something giddy in her voice – a girlish note he'd never heard before. Both his parents looked over at him. Toy truck abandoned, he was openly staring. So they could argue in front of him, but they couldn't kiss each other in front of him? Wasn't that what parents were supposed to do? It seemed backwards.
His father gently pressed his lips to her forehead before standing up to walk, just as confidently, out of the room. Draco blinked, watching his mum settle back into her chair, knees curled up to her chest. A tiny smile played on her lips as she gazed into the fire, taking another slow sip of the hot chocolate. Ironically, it wasn't until then that Draco felt as if he should look away.
With his attention reverted back to the truck, the scene began playing itself over in his mind, just as it would for the rest of his life. His doubts were answered by the way Narcissa stared into the flames after Lucius walked away, as if witnessing something that only she could see. Love was real. It had to be real. He'd seen it, at least for a moment, and that was proof enough for him.