28
They were having breakfast together, as they always did, in a silence not foreign to them save for the light clanging of their utensils. There was nothing especially different about this morning neither could they say that anything really happened everyday, but there was something that the mother did notice. The strange look on her child's face when there was something odd to be bothered about.
"What's troubling you, dear?" Chilly eyes looked up to her from the bowl of soup. No reply came right away. "Bad dream again?"
"The same one."
A wrinkle on the side of her eyes formed, she was smiling yet the smile did not reach her eyes.
"Except," he continued, "there was more. There was a hill. It led me there, and I followed but before I could reach the top I wake up." his eyes moved to the window next to him to look at the garden view, but he saw nothing. "Do you think it means something?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, the wolf. Could it mean something? If I have to dream about it almost every night, doesn't that usually mean something? I remember Trelawney in class once. When Potter's cup of tea had some sort of dog like figure, she said it meant death. Could this be the same kind?" He searched his mother's face after this, and she looked back at him thoughtfully.
"Nonsense. Dreams are just dreams, Draco."
"Not until they start haunting you." He continued to his bowl of soup. "It's always been the same one. The same kind of wolf in the same dream. I'm curious."
"Oh, don't be silly." His mother chuckled quite forcefully.
"I haven't gone mad, mother."
"Is that all you remember from these dreams? You see nothing else? No one else, perhaps?" Draco shook his head and took the last spoonful of soup before wiping his lips with a table napkin.
"Why? Would that mean something then?"
"No reason." Narcissa said with a light shrug of her shoulders. "It's one thing to dream about the same person."
"I've heard somewhere that you never dream about things you've never seen." Draco tucked the napkin under his bowl and looked at her with his cold eyes. "I just thought I might have seen this wolf somewhere before. Excuse me, mother." He left the dining hall without another word.
"What are you doing here?" he asked rather gently, noticing her through the mirror. She was standing in his doorway with her hands held together in front. She looked very nice, he thought, sadly never nice enough for him to notice her the way he should—the way a husband should.
"I came to say goodbye. Your mother said I should, you know, for decency."
"That's very kind of her to think our marriage should still be respected."
"Also because I wanted to see you before I leave. For good." she spoke softer without hiding the sadness in her voice. Draco turned to look at her after buttoning his blazer.
"I'm sorry, Pansy. Truly, I am. You could find a better man, you know that."
She said nothing, giving in to the tears that fell, and nodded. Draco looked at her for a long time until she walked away knowing he would not give her more and she was right. He sighed, tugged on his silver tie and walked out with his suitcase in one hand.
The ministry had always been a rather civil place despite the events that had transpired in the years before. The Malfoy name, just as Lucius had always hoped, stayed clean and respected which was how Draco got into a position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A chief executive specifically in the Investigation Department. Strangely so, the department centers on tracking down dark wizards, a thing most familiar to Draco as he used to be one until the circle of Death Eaters dissolved following the dark lord's death. He had long then decided he didn't want to be sought after in such a way, neither did he want to live an evil, secretive life like that. But even so, his reputation as a rather distasteful wizard did not change. He kept the friends he had since Hogwarts and made very little anymore after that—none that stuck, that is. Needless to say, the Weasley's became people he grew fond of in the Ministry.
"Good day, Mr. Malfoy."
"Good morning." Draco muttered to the secretary upon entering the office. The stout little man lifted his nose to see his face through his spectacles.
"Mail is in your cubbyhole, and today I choose a rather different flavor for you."
"It's not dragon breath cocoa, is it? The last time I had it, I burned my tongue." Draco asked with furrowed brows while browsing through his mail.
"Oh no no sir, you never had this one before. Not in my care, at least. It's in your office, sir."
"Very well then, thank you." Draco said. His office was small, enough to perfectly fit three single-sized beds side by side. He didn't like very much, but it was a lot better than a table next to Herbert the yapping secretary.
True enough the mug was on his table next to the books and folders he had left the day before. Draco sat and leaned back on his seat to close his eyes for a while, hands clasped over his eyes. He still couldn't shake the dream away. A strange grey wolf with bright brown eyes. If it wasn't growling at him it was playing with him. Asking him to follow it. And just before he does, he wakes up and the dream is gone. And then there's that hill. What was on there that his mind wouldn't let him see? It was all too strange... Before Draco could drift off into sleep, he sat up and shook his head.
He took the mug and saw its stirring contents. Richly Purple Drink. He chuckled, no one really knew what it was made of or what it did, but they did say it was some sort of potion. He stared at it for a while and realized he had this before somewhere, but he couldn't remember where or when. It must have been too long.
Without further delving into his memories, Draco finished it quickly and went on with work just as he did everyday.
