When Hermione disapparated, Draco was left alone in his too large kitchen sipping a coffee that was getting cold too quickly and trying to not think about the Gryffindor that left a too large hole in his head. He couldn't stop picturing how she wrapped his sweater around her body to hide the fact that she picked out a very revealing nightgown to wear to bed. Her cheeks were almost as red as the dress she had worn to dinner-
Goddammit, Draco. Snap out of it. She just got divorced, and that snog meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.
He held his head in his hands, his brain pounding against the walls from the immense amount of confused emotions that were washing over him, and the hangover that hadn't yet disappeared. It was still early, and having called in late to work, he would end up being at the manor for a long time; at least until his mother decided to crawl from the corners of the manor that she now slept in. Seeing the look on Hermione's face after he had told her that hey kissed was enough to curb his appetite for a few days. He hadn't realized that even after spending all of this time together, she was still so repulsed by the thought of kissing him.
He groaned into his hands and rubbed his eyes, magically pouring himself another cup of coffee laced with the hangover potion. The second cup helped his head much more than the first, but the aching feeling he had contracted was still all around him. He let his head fall onto the island countertop and groaned even louder, thinking that he was completely alone in his suffering.
"Draco? Draco dear are you still here?" He didn't raise his head, but groaned again as a yes. He could hear his mother's feet on the kitchen floor and soon felt her thing hands resting on his shoulders. "What ails you, Draco? I haven't seen you like this since you were a little boy."
He lifted his head off of the table but didn't look at her. "You're awake early, mother. I would have suspected that you would have slept later since you were out so late last night."
"Do not worry about me, Draco. Unlike you, I did not drink last night." She came around the island to sit where Hermione had while finishing her coffee. It always seemed to surprise him when his mother was not dressed for the press. In the mornings she wore a grey robe with her hair in a bun, and while she still look presentable, there was more normalcy to her when she had just crawled out of bed than when she was preparing for an interview. "Your father on the other hand…" Her voice trailed off, and while she attempted to appear like the dotting wife she so often was, her façade fell for a moment to reveal her utter disgust with the little her husband was doing to help them conform to a more 'normal' family.
Draco took a sip of his coffee and tried to avoid her gaze. She often scolded instead of judged, unlike his father. The thought of the few words his father would say on the subject of Granger made his lip curl. Trying to please his mother, he attempted to move towards the future and better himself. His father had instead hidden in the cave that is the manor and refused to change his mindset.
He is a coward. He raised me to be like him and look where I am now. I am disgusted with him and myself. He remains a coward and will always be a coward and hide in his pitiful existence.
"Draco." Narcissa's voice was quiet and calm. Her facial expressions showed the exact opposite of Draco's. She was calm and collected, watching her son carefully as the wrinkles in his forehead began to unfold and his fists unclenched. "Tell me what it is, Draco." She reached for one of his hands and clasped it between hers. Draco wasn't sure whether to actually begin talking, or rip his hand away as he had done those many years ago. He didn't need comfort. Didn't want it. There was nothing wrong with him. Nothing wrong, nothing abnormal-
"I'm fine, mother. Just tired." He left his hand in his mother's though, allowing the witch to let go on her own time. She watched him tentatively before finally releasing his hand.
"You do know that I care about you, don't you, Draco?" He nodded, head bowed at the island once more. He didn't want to look at his mother while she spoke kindly to him. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve the sympathy, and he certainly did not deserve love, or the friendship with Granger. "You should go back to your flat and sleep before your shift. I'll send your things over this afternoon."
Draco merely nodded and was about to disapparated when Narcissa gave him a small kiss on the forehead. She was worried about him, he knew, but there was nothing he could do but nod towards her and disappear from the cold kitchen.
Author's Note:
I am so ridiculously sorry this chapter is so short and took me forever to write. Draco's perspective was much harder seeing as I'm trying to keep his character without changing it, so let me know what you guys think of this little mini chapter nine (or 8.5 if you'd rather think of it as) and if I should include more Draco perspectives along the way!
Sorry sorry sorry again for taking so long, I don't mean to!
~Beadlebug3
