Chapter twenty six

At the Malfoy clan mansion

/

Lucius Malfoy stood up and offered her a hand with a cold smile.

"So, you are Mary Rosier's daughter. Just as charming as your mother," he said softly, holding her palm a little longer than he had to.

"Thank you, sir. You are too kind," she replied a little convulsively.

Angela noticed the torn expression on his face and dark circles under his eyes. More likely, the consequences of his imprisonment, she realized. She had to resist the urge to wipe her hand over her jeans from the unpleasant touch of his hard, cold palm. Outwardly, however, she struggled not to show anything from her thoughts.

Lucius only now turned to his son.

"Draco, you won't even welcome me?" asked Mr Malfoy with a slimy smile.

Angela noticed the surprised look on Draco's face, which probably appeared there after Lucius' comment about her mother. Now, he finally recovered a little and put on his usual cold mask, which, however, seemed to be disturbed by something in his father's presence.

"I'm glad you're home, Father," he stated firmly, taking his hand.

Angela was not too surprised by this cold welcome of father and son after a long time. After hearing certain things about the lord of this house...

"You should go to your room, Angela," Narcissa turned to her with a look of disdain. "Someone is waiting for you there."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you," she nodded.

"I'd very much like to get to know you better later," remarked Lucius Malfoy.

"It will be my pleasure," Angela smiled as she left, leaving the Malfoys alone in the room.

Once inside the hall, a look of disgust appeared on her face. She looked up the stairs, feeling anxious. As she quickly ascended to the second floor, she worked on clearing her mind. At the end of a long hallway, decorated with dark paintings, were the double doors to her room. She stopped in front of them for a moment, took a deep breath and opened them wide as quietly as possible…

Mary Rosier stood in black robes just outside the French window to the balcony, looking toward the dim outline of the barred gate.

Thank Merlin the Ministry is still so stupid. Otherwise, they would have found the secret passage long ago and neither Lucius nor I could have gotten into the mansion undetected, she mused mockingly.

She knew Angela would be here soon. She saw a group of three coming and now just waited patiently in the dark. Suddenly, the room lit up and Mary jumped away from the window in a flash so that no one would see her silhouette.

"Good evening, Mother," Angela greeted her coldly with her hand still on the handle and then slowly closed the door behind her.

"Angela, darling," Mary beamed, quickly walking up to her and kissing her cheek. "How have you been doing?"

"Fine," her daughter replied, pulling away from her and heading to her trunk.

Mary's face darkened.

"Have you met Lucius yet?" she asked.

"Yes," Angela replied curtly, opened the trunk, sat down in the chair, and started to use her wand to send her things to the shelves.

"I hope you were polite."

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, for example, because he killed your friend's parents, as I´ve heard."

Angela moved another textbook with a spell and looked at her mother, who had a dangerous shine in her eyes.

"Yes, Daria Prescott is a friend of mine," she answered slowly and thoughtfully. "If you hadn't run away, you'd know that I've known her for quite a while..."

"How can you even dare to be friends with a Muggle scumbag?" Mary cut her off sharply.

"Her father was a wizard," Angela remarked, but to no avail.

"It doesn´t matter!" shrieked Mary.

Angela resisted the urge to crouch. How typical of her dear mother. She could change her tone and attitude in a second.

"Her mother was a Muggle!" Mary kept barking. "And I forbid you to even consider her as an equal!"

She stiffly stood up: "But I take her exactly that way," she retorted.

Her mother giggled obnoxiously: "You must be out of your mind! As I said. You will stop talking with her."

But Angela did not want to give up on her friend so easily. Especially not without any proper reason. "No," she retorted.

Mary slapped her daughter so hard that her hair flew to the side.

"Somehow, you grew cheeky, my dear! You will obey me, understand? I´m not my sister, who allowed you everything!"

No, you're not, that´s for sure, Angela thought as she slowly raised her flushed face and kept defiantly silent.

"You understood me?" Mary asked threateningly again.

Angela swallowed with difficulty: "Yes."

"But it took you quite long. Don't forget you promised me obedience!"

"And don't forget what you promised me in return," she said quietly in response.

Mary smirked but said nothing.

And she doesn't even know about me attending that funeral, Angela thought grimly as she rubbed her tingling face.

Mary stepped away from her.

"The meeting with the Dark Lord will be in three days. Until then, behave. Not that you will shame me."

"Yes, Mother," Angela replied quietly.

However, Mary caught an unfamiliar undertone in her voice. She looked suspiciously into her eyes. Angela defiantly held her gaze.

"Hmm, Narcissa did invite me, but I won't be staying for dinner," Mary stated. "Good night," she said goodbye. Angela let her go without a reply.

After the door slammed shut, she slid dejectedly into the chair behind her and put her head in her hands.

/

"Good evening," Draco greeted politely from the gloom of the stairway.

Madame Rosier looked at him rather distractedly. "Ah, Draco Malfoy?"

He nodded. Mary shot him a rather strange look.

"Angela is in there?" Draco asked.

"Yes, she is."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Nice to meet you," she remarked dryly and headed down the stairs.

"Likewise," Draco called after her and headed to Angela's door.

/

Meanwhile, Angela turned off the lights, leaving only the fire burning. Postponing the unpacking for later, she threw off her jacket and sat down on the couch across from the fireplace. She was about to use her wand to pull out the hidden red wine from the secret stash, but she was stopped by a soft knock.

"Come in," she hummed grumpily.

Draco peered inside: "Can I?"

"I've already invited you, haven't I?" Angela replied.

Draco closed the door behind him and sat down next to her.

"My parents sent me to see you. I was asking about your mother, who so miraculously rose from the dead and they referred me to you," Draco explained the reason for his presence.

Angela sighed, summoned a bottle of wine and two glasses to the small table in front of her.

"Did you see her?" she asked.

Draco nodded, not commenting the so suddenly appeared alcohol.

"Do you want to hear the full version or the shortened version?"

"That's up to you," he replied quietly.

Angela poured wine into glasses, locked the door with a spell, and handed one to him. Draco noticed the fading palm print on her left cheek in the glow of flames. Suddenly taken aback and kind of empathetic, he raised his hand, touching that spot gently and Angela flinched.

"Don´t mind it," she murmured softly. "Mother wasn't in the best mood..."

Draco kept silent in understanding.

"So, I'll take it short," Angela began, her gaze fixed on the flames.

Mary's presence in the Malfoy mansion and especially in the world of the living was explained to him very briefly, but it still took at least five minutes before Angela stopped talking. She took a deep sip from her glass, with Draco watched her intently.

"So, your aunt wasn't what she seemed to be at all," he mused aloud.

Angela remained silent.

"Whose side are you really on?" he asked her suddenly.

The sad girl did not answer him for a long time.

"On my own. Just like you," she then replied quietly.

Before Draco could react, there was another knock on the door. Angela hid the glasses and the bottle and invited the person inside, after quietly unlocking the lock remotely with a charm. Jory entered the room with a downcast look.

"Madame calls you to dinner, Miss," she announced in a squeaky voice.

She had not noticed that Draco was in the room as well.

"Thank you, Jory," Angela replied. "I'll be down right away."

"Me too," Draco added.

The house elf looked up in surprise, but immediately lowered her wide eyes to the ground.

"Yes, Miss. Yes, sir. I'll take care of it," she blurted out and quickly backed out of the door.

Draco stood up. "You know, everything what you´ve just told me, also says a lot about you," he remarked in a strange tone.

"What do you mean?" Angela looked up at him.

"Having such a mother, I'm as great an actor as you are," he said in an unchanged voice and turned toward the door.

"Draco?" she stopped him.

He only half turned to face her.

"My mother and your father are the birds of the same feather," she informed him dryly.

He pursed his lips, did not answer, and left.

/

It was snowing heavily on that Christmas morning. When Angela saw the pile of packages at the foot of the bed, she was a little surprised. At home, she and her aunt always unwrapped presents by the Christmas tree.

"Different house, different manners," she muttered under her breath, got up and went to the bathroom to rinse her face with cold water first.

Only then did she use her wand to lift the gifts into the air, sit down by the hearth where the fire was already crackling, and place them in her lap. She began unwrapping them disinterestedly. She did not even care much about what could be hidden inside.

There were three gifts. First, she unwrapped five heavy books related to the black magic. There was no doubt that her mother wanted her to broaden her horizons once again. Disgusted, she pushed them to the floor next to her. The next two packages completely surprised her. The Malfoys had given her a long black evening dress, something between a Muggle female garments and formal robes, and there were even high-heeled shoes along with them. Surprisingly, exactly her size.

She told herself that she must ask Narcissa what that was supposed to mean. She was beginning to suspect that it would not just be out of good will.

Curiously, she opened the small box from Draco and smiled in surprise. She pulled out a silver chain with a pendant in the shape of a miniature, roaring dragon with outstretched wings. Inside the box was a small piece of paper folded under it. There was a short message written in narrow letters:

The silver dragon protects from danger and provides energy.

Merry Christmas!

Angela began to laugh softly. Even though they were different, their ideas were similar in this case. She bought him a silver, male chain enchanted with protective charms. He did not normally wear anything around his neck, but she hoped he would like it.

Angela immediately hung this gift around her neck. It felt a little cold, when it rested on the skin above her breasts, but it was not weird at all.

Thoughtfully, she began to clean up the crumpled wrapping papers. She did not want to admit it, in order not to think about him, but most of all she was curious about what Harry had bought her. She let out a dejected sigh when she realized she would not be seeing him for another week.

/

The first thing they did when Angela and Draco met downstairs in the dining room was throw a quick glance at each other's necks. They both smiled wordlessly in satisfaction and sat on either side of Narcissa.

"Are you satisfied with the presents?" she asked slowly.

"Yes, ma'am, thank you very much," Angela replied with a sweet smile.

"Yes, Mother," Draco answered automatically.

Angela was about to ask the question that was burning her tongue, but she was stopped by Narcissa's strange look at Draco's hand.

"Why don't you have it?" she asked icily.

Angela glanced between them uncomprehendingly, Draco stiffened a bit.

"I thought I didn't need..." he began cautiously, but his mother cut him off harshly.

"Then you thought wrong," she snapped coldly. "You'll take it right after breakfast, all right?"

"Yes, Mother," Draco replied, his eyes fixed on his plate.

"Good," his mother nodded.

Angela glared at her grumpily, and she completely lost the desire to strike up a conversation with her. But in the end, her curiosity won.

"Madame? Can I ask something?"

"Of course, Angela. Is there something wrong?"

"I thank you very much for that dress, but what good such a beautiful clothing do for me? I'm not going to any special event..."

Narcissa cut her off with a smile.

"I bought them for the party, Angela," she stated with an elated expression. "Of course I assumed you didn't own anything like that, so I took advantage of Christmas and bought it for you."

"What party?" Angela asked surprised.

Draco continued to focus on his breakfast carefully, a look of disgust on his face that luckily no one saw.

"New Year's Eve, my dear," Narcissa said. "It is held in our mansion every year. Of course that we're only inviting our… Well, let's say friends."

"But… you shouldn't have spent so much on me, since I´m not invited?" Angela suggested carefully.

Narcissa's gaze hardened: "But yes, you must attend as well, dear," she replied with a frosty smile. "After all, you live in our house and your mother will be there, too."

"My mother?" Angela yelped and Draco raised his head curiously. "How so?"

"Didn't she tell you she was going to show in front of everyone at the meeting the day after tomorrow?" Narcissa asked.

Angela just shook her head thoughtfully.

"So, now you know," Narcissa commented coldly, returning to her diet breakfast.

Angela looked at Draco who rolled his eyes meaningfully. She understood – a boring party with wizarding snobs was awaiting them.

/

The bathroom on the first floor was spacious and brightly lit. When she saw herself in the mirror, she looked like an eyesore in purely black clothes, not to mention the makeup, which she usually did not overdo. This time, she already carefully applied dark grey shadows, black contour around her eyes and dark red lipstick. Her hand was shaking when she took the mascara in it. She just hoped this awful mask would help to cover her real state of mind…

It was not until he spoke that she saw the outline of a figure in the open doorway in the mirror behind her.

"This style doesn't suit you very well," Draco stated dryly, also dressed in black.

Angela sneered and began to attend to the other eye: "Why do you think?"

"Because now you look like a bitch as well," he replied coldly.

The smirk instantly disappeared from her face. To his surprise, Draco caught something like pain and anger in Angela´s eyes.

"That's the purpose after all. And stop insulting me," she said quietly.

However, Draco continued dangerously: "In that case, I'm sorry. I had no idea that calling you a bitch was an insult."

Angela lowered her eyes, slowly put away her mascara, and once again fixed her gaze on Draco's reflection. He was casually leaning against the doorway. She knew it was better that she would not react, but it was really hard not to tell him the truth at that very moment.

"If your lover saw you like this, he probably wouldn't be happy about it," added the blonde prince.

Angela turned around sharply: "What do you care so much about Potter all of a sudden?" she barked.

Draco snorted: "I don´t care about him at all," he assured her.

She stepped closer to him.

"Then why do you keep coming at me? What slipped past your way again? You know that we're on the same page, so how about we rather…"

"Well, well, all right, stop it," he cut her off with a deadpan expression.

Angela gritted her teeth.

"Sorry, but I couldn't help myself seeing you like this," he sneered.

Then, she realized that the annoying performance a moment ago was exactly the old Draco she once knew. That arrogant, self-confident dude, who had to constantly mock her. Needless to say that usually with success.

Her anger faded. At that moment, Draco's face had regained the expression it had always had lately. Cold and inaccessible. It occurred to Angela that maybe this was how he showed his nervousness...

"Draco, I´d like to tell you…" she suddenly stopped when she saw a dark, slim figure behind him.

Madame Narcissa came into the light pouring from the bathroom, also draped in the darkest colours.

"Are you done yet?" she asked quietly.

Angela stepped away from her son: "Yes, ma'am."

Draco just nodded.

"Good. Go get your cloaks and we'll meet at the entrance to the cellar," she informed them dryly and left with her hair flowing.

Angela tried to pass around Draco, but he gently grabbed her elbow. A narrow silver ring in the shape of a coiled snake with a forked tongue glinted on his middle finger. When Angela saw it for the first time, she thought it was gorgeous. She almost felt like she wanted it for herself, but the look Draco gave the unwanted ring made her forget it right away.

"What did you want to tell me?" he asked curiously.

Angela fidgeted nervously.

"Nothing important. Forget it," she replied, breaking out of his grip and heading to her room.

/

Two minutes later, they were both coming down the stairs, long black cloaks with hoods billowing behind them. Far back in the hall in front of the usually enchanted chained doors, both Narcissa and Lucius were already waiting for them, ready to leave.