"Come down for lunch."
My face frowned down at the book before me. I followed the line until the end of its sentence, placing a finger down to mark the spot. With that, I looked up. Standing just past the entrance of my room my father waited, arms crossed. Turning to him I let out a sigh. I thought we had gone over this.
"I'm in the middle of something," I called, and stared. "I'll eat later."
"That wasn't a question."
"Fine," I sighed, already hearing the tone, "I'll eat now, if that's what you want. I'll send for my meal—"
"And that's not what I said."
"Papa—"
"Go downstairs," he interrupted once more, from where he still stood. "Your mother wants you to join us for a meal."
"Why?" I whined but closed the book. I knew my father, and he wasn't going to let me finish. "I was present at breakfast, and the mid-morning snacks mother had prepared, which I should say is why I'm not hungry. I can eat any time—"
"Don't argue," my father's voice was stern. "You may return once you've finished your meal. If you're in such a hurry to get back, then I suggest you eat fast. Now come."
With an exaggerated groan, I pulled myself up and followed my father down the stairs. As usual the dining room was overly decorated, far too much effort for just three people. But that was how my mother liked it, so that was how it would be displayed. From the kitchen a few of the staff darted back and forth, making some last minute touch ups. I noticed most of those seemed to be in the direction of my seat. Surely, this change was as surprising for them as it was for me. My mother walked through the dining room, glossing over everything. I gave her a frown.
"Are we having someone over?" I asked, noting the set up. My mother smiled in my direction.
"Oh no, dear, this is just for us," she called, in a tone which implied that should have been obvious. My mother ran a hand along my father's shoulders as he sat down. He patted her hand in return. "We're celebrating."
"New silverware?" I asked, sitting myself. My mother giggled, signaling that was the wrong answer. "New dress then?"
"Well, yes it's new, but no, that's not it," she answered, taking her own seat. "We're celebrating you, dear."
"What?" I frowned, not sure I heard right. No, rather I was sure I hadn't.
"You're back from Hogwarts, we should be celebrating our daughter's return," my mother explained.
Her attention diverted as her plate was placed in front of her. At her words, my frown deepened. Not sure what to say my expression turned to my father, who took a sip of his drink. His expression made it clear, none of this was his idea. My mother continued to smile cheerfully as she looked down at her meal. Was this a joke? No, this wasn't her type of humor. So then…
"Am I being punished for something?" I asked, thinking that the only logical solution.
"Have you done something worth punishing?" Papa asked, not looking up from his meal. My mother waved her hand dismissively.
"Oh, don't be silly, darling. Of course she hasn't," my mother called, before turning back to me. "We just wanted to spend some time together with you, dear."
"Since when?"
"Since now. Stop asking your mother questions," Papa lectured, still looking like this was in no way his idea, but going along with it for her sake.
"So how has the school year been so far, dear?" my mother asked.
That was how I knew; I was dreaming. Nothing else made sense at least. The only logical explanation was that I was taking part in a very realistic dream. I did remember dozing off on the Hogwarts Express, maybe I had never woken up and was still on the train back. Blinking hard a few times, I tried to jolt myself awake. But it didn't work.
"Answer your mother," my father's voice spoke straight through my thoughts. He made a face at me, watching as I tried to blink myself out of it once more.
"It's been fine," I finally spoke, but my mother smiled.
"That's wonderful," she clapped her hands together for emphasis. "But what about that new secretary your school enrolled? You said you didn't like her, didn't you?"
"I did say that," I answered, still watching her carefully. Leaning to the side, I spoke quietly to my father. "Out of curiosity, you're sure there hasn't been any misuse of, say, Polyjuice potion in this house?"
"You know we have preventions for that," Papa replied, but I saw the slight smile on his face. He nodded his head towards my mother, forcing me to continue with the conversation. I let out a sigh.
"Honestly, Umbridge has been a pain," I nodded, deciding to lean into whatever lucid fever dream I found myself in. "So far she hasn't actually taught us anything. She sits us in a room to read a completely rudimentary and biased book as she stares over us from her little pedestal. On top of that, the only times she does speak are to try to convince us that Dark wizards don't exist."
"Coming from her?" my father asked rhetorically. I raised my arms in response.
"That's what I said! So, since she insists on being useless, I have been doing work outside of class. Theodore and I have been trying to work together to learn new defensive spells, so it doesn't ruin our results in the O.W.L.s. That's what I was trying to do upstairs," I added the latter with a tone. More in character, my mother didn't take the hint, focusing on something else.
"Oh, no, that's no good. You should be enjoying your time at school," my mother shook her head lightly. I coughed on my meal at her words. This wasn't my mother. She turned and placed a hand gingerly over my father's before speaking. "Is there anything we can do to help with that, darling?"
"Possibly, but it might be more trouble than it's worth," Papa answered her request. "Especially so, considering it's the middle of her year. I'm sure she can put up with it for a few months. If this issue persists to the end of the year I'll look into it then. But considering the school's record, I don't believe we'll have to bother."
"Glad to hear I'm not worth the bother," I said sarcastically, but heard a clanking come from across me.
"That's not it at all. Tell her that's not it, dear," my mother spoke quickly. I was sure this was the first time in my life I had heard her dishes clash. Those were not the proper manners she had shoved down my throat as a young girl.
"I was joking," I frowned, thrown off by her defensiveness. "Alright, what's wrong with you? Why are you acting so strange?"
"Nothing is wrong, don't be silly, dear. I'm acting perfectly normal," she answered, playing with her wedding ring. That was one of her few nervous habits. And that meant she was lying. "I just don't want you to think your father and I don't care about you. Because of course we do, we're your parents, and we love you. Isn't that right, darling?"
"Hmm," Papa answered, with not nearly the same amount of enthusiasm. It was strange to think that was far more comforting than anything my mother had said. Again, either ignoring or missing the implications of his words, my mother smiled and nodded.
"Of course we do. Now, enough about all of that," my mother shook her hands, as if she wasn't the root of the conversation. "No sense in having our food grow cold. Let's eat."
"But—"
"Your mother said eat," Papa interrupted with a look. I let out a huff but did as he said.
They had both been acting strange from the moment I had arrived home. When I unpacked, my mother had been in the room. After I finished that, and moved on to reviewing my plans for the holiday, she had come in to offer some snacks. Finally I had gotten her out of the room, but now it seemed I had to share all of my meals with them. Still a bit annoyed after lunch had ended, I made my way back upstairs. Walking into my room, I glanced at the book I had left on my bed. I sighed, too distracted to read. Studying could wait. I continued into the room and toward my desk, deciding on something else I still had yet to do.
The first letter I chose to write was for George. He still hadn't contacted me, busy with his supposed family emergency. Hermione said she would give him my message, but it was possible she hadn't seen him either. Even so, he shouldn't need this reminder. Whatever this issue he had was, it couldn't possibly be preventing him from picking up a quill. And the longer I waited, the more annoyed I became. Still, Hermione had insisted on it being an emergency. With that in mind I made my words calmer than my thoughts felt, though I was sure he'd be able to read the subtext.
Already sat, I decided to write a bit more. A letter to Vik, at least to say a simple hello, we hadn't spoken much since summer. Daphne had yet to depart to Greece, and I wished her luck on the trip. But I paused once I reached Nikolai's letter.
I had hoped to visit my brother during holiday, which was why I had hoped for the internship at St. Mungo's Hospital. But I didn't have that excuse this time. Papa had quickly said no when I first brought it up. My father wasn't an idiot, he surely knew my brother was the reason why I was urging the topic. Of course the internship was good for a lot of things, but it would also mean allowing me access to a lot of others he'd disapprove of. But I wanted, needed, to see my brother. Umbridge made things difficult at Hogwarts, in more ways than one. I couldn't send him letters as freely with the Ministry, and who knows what else, having such a direct hold over the school.
My expression stayed fixed on the few dots on the parchment before me. Not knowing where to start, I had placed down and picked up my quill a few times. But something interrupted me before the first sentence could form. Hearing a cleared throat, I looked up and quickly turned to the source. Once more my father stood waiting at the doorway. I gave him a sigh. Already, I could tell what it was that he wanted.
"What is it this time?" I snapped, already setting down the unstarted letter.
"You would do well to watch your tone," my father spoke in warning. I groaned again.
"I might, if this hadn't been happening since the moment I got off the train," I complained, but stood from my desk. "What's wrong with her, anyway?"
"Nothing is wrong with your mother," Papa sighed, not believing himself. "She simply wants to see you. Now, head downstairs."
"I was just down there," I argued feebly. "I hadn't even finished the page I was on."
"Then bring the text down with you," he suggested, beginning to sound annoyed.
"Papa," I sighed, not being able to think of what else to say.
"Now."
With just that simple word said, my father walked away. I frowned at the empty space he left, crossing my arms. For a moment I contemplated staying, but knew if he had to come back it wouldn't end well for me. As strange as my mother was acting, my father was making up for it with patience. But I was sure it wouldn't last if I kept pushing. Doing as he suggested, I grabbed the book from my bed and turned once more downstairs. Grumbling the several flights down, I eventually found them sitting in the drawing room.
"Well, this is a surprise," my mother called cheerfully, watching as I entered.
"Is it?" I asked absentmindedly, finding my own seat. From beside her, my father gave me a look. It was a surprise, she hadn't been the one to ask. I gave them a sigh. "I just felt like stepping out of my room for a bit, is all. Just going to read here, then."
"Isn't that wonderful," my mother smiled, walking to come and sit beside me. She patted my hair lightly, and in return I tried not to frown. Certainly something had happened during my time away at Hogwarts.
"Lady Karissa," one of the staff called, pulling her attention away from me. "Would now be an appropriate time to review tomorrow's planned courses?"
"She'll be here when you get back," Father spoke from his work, noting my mother's look of concern. My mother giggled as if it were a joke, but that seemed to have calmed her nerves. She drifted off after the staff towards the kitchen.
"So we're just going to keep pretending this is normal?" I called once my mother was fully out of the room. My father didn't reply, making me sigh. "Could you at least tell me how long I have to keep this up?"
"Until your mother says otherwise," he answered that, but still didn't look up.
"That doesn't help. She's already passed the amount of time she normally would. How am I supposed to know how long it's going to take her?" I grumbled. Normally she grew disinterested after a few hours, at most until the end of my first day back.
A sharp bark interrupted my complaints. Lev ran towards me, as quickly as his little legs would take him. He stopped just before me, turning to look up at my father. Papa gave him a nod. With the approval given, Lev jumped on the seat beside me, knowing he wasn't allowed on the furniture otherwise. My pup snuggled himself comfortably next to me. I reached to pet his head, and looked back towards my father.
"Alright, since this is something you want," I spoke clearly to him, "let's make a deal."
"'A deal' would imply you have any choice in the matter," Papa spoke down at some parchment.
"But I do have a choice."
"Oh?" he asked, setting his work down. That had gotten his attention, though I wasn't sure if that was a good thing just yet.
"I have a choice," I continued, "in the end, I am in charge of my own actions. Obviously, I know it's easiest to just listen, but it's not something I have to do. Unless you're thinking about using an unforgivable curse on your own daughter, then, no matter how difficult you make things, the choice inevitably lands on me, does it not?"
"Go on," Papa gave me a nod, humoring me with a small smile. I took in a breath before making my request.
"I want to go to intern at St. Mungo's again, while I'm back home for the holiday."
"I've already said no," my father denied, his smile now gone.
"Yes, I remember," I nodded, having expected that reaction. "But that was before mum decided to suddenly want me around every other minute."
"I allowed it during summer despite your ulterior motives, but that's enough."
"What motives? Wanting to learn?" I asked innocently. My father scoffed in return.
"Wanting to learn what, dear?" my mother called, returning from her tour of the kitchen.
I turned to my father, and he stared back. Not saying a word, I waited. The answer would have to come from him. Obviously I wasn't going to actually go against my father's wishes. This was all a bluff. But if I ever had any leverage, it was this, so I pretended to stand my ground. My father watched me for one more moment before turning a much more pleasant expression towards my mother.
"It's nothing, dear," my father answered my mother, making me sigh. Well, I tried, but he had called my bluff.
"Is it in that book you're reading?" she continued to ask, this time towards me. She sat beside Lev, carefully patting the end of his tail. Lev twitched a moment, not liking to be pet there, but knowing better than to bark out against her.
"No, it was about the St. Mungo's internship," I sighed once more, resigned. My mother continued to smile down at Lev beside me.
"Oh, the one you planned for yourself during summer? Did you have fun, dear?"
"Yes… I did…" I said slowly looking up at her. From behind her my father gave me a warning look, knowing what thought had come into my head. But I ignored him. Through her words I saw one more opening. "Actually, I was hoping to go once more, sometime soon. The Healers offered me another opportunity this holiday—"
"Which she cannot fulfill," my father interrupted quickly.
"Well, why not? It sounds like the opportunity is there," my mother asked, a bit confused. I gave her a quick nod.
"Papa doesn't think it's a good idea, but I want to go," I spoke clearly, wanting to get my point through to her.
"But, as you said," my father called, giving me one final look of warning, "I do not think it is a good idea."
"Darling, I'm sure it will be fine. If this is something she wants to do, we should let her," my mother smiled at him, seeing through his expression.
"I believe it would be better to have her wait until summer," Papa replied to her, but once more she ignored his tone.
"But this summer, we… had other plans," she spoke softly, making me the one to frown this time.
"We did?" I asked, now the one confused. This was news to me.
"Nothing that should concern you," my father answered, his voice stern. I glanced down, now sure I had pushed too far. "Katerina, that is enough. I've made myself more than clear with you."
"What could it hurt?" my mother waved her hand at him dismissively. This time, my father frowned.
"Karissa, I've already said—"
"Darling," my mother interrupted loudly. There was a smile on her face, but one stiffer than was normal for her. They exchanged a look as I waited in silence. When she knew my father wouldn't interrupt, she turned back to me. "Now, if Katerina wants to go, then we should let her go. It will make you happy, won't it, dear?"
"Yes?" I answered, but came off sounding like a question.
"Then it's settled."
My mother smiled, thinking the matter resolved. Ignoring her positive appearance, I watched for what came next. It was incredibly rare to see them act like this. They never seemed to argue about anything, and if they did I always assumed they chose to do so in private, certainly not with me present. More importantly, my father never allowed himself to be interrupted. But my mother sat calmly, a warm smile on her face, and eventually my father let out a breath. He gave me one more unhappy look before setting down his work and standing.
"I'll go draft the letter," Papa called, in a very unhappy tone, one to match his expression.
"Oh, don't look so upset, darling," my mother stood and walked gingerly towards him.
"We will discuss this later," he replied, turning the unhappy look down to her. In turn, she pulled herself up to him and kissed his cheek.
"If you'd like, but it won't change anything," she reassured.
Now free from her odd petting, Lev stretched himself on the couch cushions. But I was too focused on my parents to care. Her hand lightly patted his cheek, where she had just kissed, before giving my father a proper kiss. She gave him one more smile before waving him off. Accepting but unhappy with the way things turned out, he made his way into his office.
"Thank you," I stood as she turned back to me. My mother gave me a grand smile in return.
"Of course, dear. We just want what's best for you," she cooed, pushing back the hair from my face.
"Still… thank you," I spoke softly. I certainly wouldn't have convinced Papa on my own. She gave me a simple nod in return.
"Well then, that's enough of that. Now, I was about to go over some of the holiday decorations with the staff. Did you want to take a walk and help me with the plans? We might need to order some things, after all," she asked, before turning to look down at the book I had come with. "But if you're busy…"
"No, I have time," I reassured her.
"Splendid," she smiled in response. She turned a moment to where my father had called one of the staff into his study. After a second, she turned back to me. "Come, dear, before we lose the daylight."
For the next while, my mother escorted me around the house. She refused to reuse decorations more than once, if that, but parts of the set up always seemed to stay the same. We already had the trees scheduled for delivery, now my mother had to worry about what to put on them. Not just that, but what garlands, wreaths, and other such accents to add to or around our furniture and tapestries. She had moved from focusing on what sets of china to set for use, to what should be added onto the garden, when one of the staff walked up to us.
"Miss Katerina, Master Malfoy is here to see you."
"He didn't tell me he'd be coming," I mumbled towards the house, before turning back to my mother.
"Oh, go on ahead, dear. We can continue this tomorrow," she gave me a smile.
"Tomorrow… there's more… of course," I mumbled to myself, but my mother heard.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," she spoke slowly, the smile still on her face. "I won't change my mind about letting you go to your internship."
"No, I know," I replied before giving her a nod. "We'll continue this tomorrow, I look forward to it."
My mother beamed down at me before continuing along the path, leading the staff along with her plans. She didn't seem as bothered by the interruption as I would've thought, but then again it was Draco who had done the interrupting. She always had too much affection for him. Inside I was told by some of the staff "Master Malfoy" had already made his way upstairs, making himself rather comfortable in someone else's home. With that information I wandered upstairs, knowing just where he would go.
Once I reached it the door to my room appeared to be closed, just as I had left it. Sure this was the only place Draco would go, I opened it anyway. Inside I found Draco, laying on my bed. Or, rather, he seemed to have thrown himself down on it. He lay face down, his feet dangling off the edge, really doing all he could to make himself feel at home. I walked the remainder of the way into the room, closing the door once more behind me. At the sound, Draco turned his face up, just enough for his eyes to reach me from under his hair. I giggled in return.
"It's been a day, miss me already?" I joked, walking to meet him. Draco scoffed before turning onto his side.
"If I say yes, are you going to get defensive and run East?" he grunted, sitting himself up. Still not feeling completely up to it, Draco leaned back against his elbows. Slowly, he let out a long groan. "I just needed to get out for a while, is all."
"Is everything alright?" I asked, sitting down beside him.
Draco didn't say anything but it only took a guess. Leaning in to him, I let out a frown. His parents had never been my favorite people but he sure idolized them, meaning he wouldn't have left over something trivial like an argument. He rarely raised his voice to them. And considering the kind of work they'd been doing lately, it wasn't hard to narrow the options of that guess. But he didn't say anything, so I didn't pry. Still, when Draco turned to me, he must have seen my thoughts through my expression. He rolled his eyes and threw himself down on my bed, this time with his back to it.
"Would you stop that, I'm fine, I just need a nap. You're being a pain," Draco grumbled, placing an arm over his face.. I rolled my eyes at him before reaching over to swat at his head. "Ow! Fine way to treat a guest!"
"Oh, shush," I lulled, sitting myself up. Draco peeked at me from under his arm.
"So, what's with you?" he asked, looking up at me. "The servants told me you were out on the grounds with your mum. I figured you'd be neck deep in that little schedule of yours, not taking a stroll through the garden."
"I wanted to," I sighed, giving him a small nod. "But my mother insisted on spending some quality time together."
"Funny," he mumbled, moving his arm over his eyes again.
"Yeah…" I muttered in return, still not sure what was going on with their behaviour. But, even if I asked, I doubted they would tell me. But at least things had worked out to my benefit. "On a positive note, my father changed his mind about the St. Mungo's internship."
"So you're really going then?" Draco asked, taking his arm completely off of his face. We both knew he wasn't talking about the hospital. He was talking about Nikolai. I gave him a nod. "Just be careful, alright? I don't like the idea of you doing something so stupid alone."
"If you're so worried, you could come with me," I offered.
"You really want to have me killed, don't you," Draco scowled up at me. I gave him a giggle.
"You're exaggerating, as usual—"
"No, I'm not," he kept his expression. I chose to ignore his tone.
"But I do agree he wouldn't be happy to see you there. Especially if his… wife is around," I mumbled, thinking it over. Absentmindedly, I stretched a hand over and began to pet Draco's hair. I had gotten more into the habit of that, just as when I pet Lev. Draco gave me a bit of a hum but closed his eyes, and otherwise ignored it.
Now, there was also the Fidelius charm to worry about, but I thought better than to mention that. If I took Draco with me, it would mean revealing the location of his home, and as much as I loved and trusted Draco, Nikolai would not take that as an excuse. My brother had always been the overprotective type, and I assumed that same mannerism worked its way to his muggle as well. Draco certainly wouldn't make the meeting any more pleasant; he barely made the effort when it came to me. Once again, I blamed his parents for that. Not that mine were much better, they had raised me much the same. Still they were letting me go, though I wasn't sure if my mother was fully aware of what the internship meant. For that, I was thankful.
I pet him for a minute more before Draco let out a loud and drawn out groan. I paused at the reaction. Feeling my hand no longer there, Draco turned up to me with a frown.
"Sorry?" I asked, pulling my hand away, not sure if that's what had brought it up.
"No, it's not that," Draco mumbled. He turned himself slightly, glancing to where I had placed my hand beside him.
"Then what is it?" I asked and watched as he sat up, properly this time. Draco joined me on the edge of the bed, still with the same expression. "Draco?"
"I have something to tell you," he spoke slowly before shaking his head. "No. Rather, I know something you'd want to hear, I just don't want to tell you."
"Then don't," I replied, still watching. But Draco shook his head at me.
"No, if I don't bring it up, you'll just bite my head off for it later," he justified.
"And here I thought you were being serious," I rolled my eyes at him.
"I am," he answered sternly. Draco glanced down at me. "Has the beggar spoken to you at all, since he made his disappearance?"
"No… Do you know something?" I asked, noting the question seemed to come out of nowhere.
"Yes," he groaned, running an irritated hand through his hair. "Don't really see how it's such an emergency when they couldn't really do anything to help but… the head beggar…"
"You mean his father," I asked in an attempt to translate the insult. Draco gave me a nod.
"He was creeping around the Ministry, somewhere he shouldn't have been…"
"And you know this because there was someone else, doing the exact same thing," I noted, and again he nodded.
"Well… Point is, you might be running into him during your internship at St. Mungo's."
Hearing that, I frowned down. So George's father was hurt. Draco was right in a way, it wasn't what I would consider an emergency, but it would certainly be something upsetting. And here I was, being difficult. I had already sent a letter as well. With a sigh, I reached a hand to Draco.
"Thank you for telling me. I'm sure it must have been very difficult for you, saying all of that with just a single insult," I kid, patting his cheek.
"It took great restraint," Draco assured, leaning in to me. I let out a giggle as his head found my shoulder, and moved to pat his head.
"There, there," I called sarcastically, running a hand through his hair again. "Being a decent person may be difficult for you, but I appreciate the sacrifice."
"It's exhausting, I'll tell you that," Draco answered, pulling away from me. He smiled down at me, but stopped to pinch the bridge of his nose. Despite his attempt at a joke, he did look tired. I gave him a frown.
"You really do need a nap, don't you."
"No, I'm fine," Draco let out a long sigh, running a hand over his face. "It's just been a lot… it's been a long day."
"Are you sure you don't want to talk about what's bothering you?"
"I shouldn't," he stated, looking down. "I probably shouldn't have told you about the head beggar either. But, like I said, I thought you'd want to know."
"I did, thank you," I nodded, running a hand along his arm. "And I won't make you tell me anything that could cause you trouble. But I am here, if you need me to listen."
"Tell you what, you tell me your issues and I'll let you know if they top mine," Draco said, and I didn't fail to note the heavy sarcasm. But I figured it would still be good to talk.
"My mother," I sighed, "she's been acting strange since I returned from Hogwarts."
"Strange how?"
"I wasn't joking earlier," I explained, frowning towards the door. "My mother has been wanting to spend time together, as a family."
"That is strange," Draco said unironically, knowing my mother well enough to know how out of character that was.
"She insisted we have dinner when I first arrived, which isn't much of a surprise but she normally just leaves me alone after that. Instead she wanted me again for breakfast, then some snacks, then lunch," I recounted with a groan. "Most recently, my father had me do my studying in the parlour because my mother 'simply wanted to see me'. I haven't had an actual moment's peace since I've arrived, unless you count sleep."
"And you're sure she hasn't been replaced?" Draco teased, making me laugh.
"I asked," I admitted, "but Papa assured me it was her."
"Well I won't say it quite tops mine, but it's certainly up there," Draco said after a short laugh. "That's why you were on the grounds."
"More or less," I nodded. "She said she wanted my help in setting up our holiday decorations. But I wasn't forced, I agreed to go with her."
"Have you been replaced?" he asked carefully, making me giggle.
"No, it was as a form of thanks," I shook my head. "She helped in convincing my father to let me take part in the St. Mungo's internship."
"How'd she do that?" Draco asked with genuine curiosity. I gave him a shrug.
"Honestly, I'm not sure," I admitted with a small frown. "I don't think you'll know what I mean, I've only seen it happen a handful of times myself… But sometimes, my mother seems to just override my father's decisions. Like, if he says no and she says yes, even if he keeps insisting the answer will still somehow become yes."
"So she ignores him? I cannot see that happening," Draco frowned in confusion, not being able to comprehend what I was telling him. It probably had something to do with how terrified he always seemed of my father.
"I'm sure, but that's what happened," I smiled at him. "She decided to let me go, for some reason, and my father had no choice but to agree."
"Does she know…" Draco let the question hang unfinished, but I knew what he meant. Does she know about Nikolai?
"I'm not sure," I sighed. "I have a feeling she does to an extent, my father knows some things himself, but so far she hasn't mentioned anything about it. Either way, I'm not asking questions. I'll take what I can get."
"Like I said, just be careful," Draco warned in a low voice. "The Dark Lord…"
"I know," I nodded, matching his tone. But that was the very reason I had to go see Nikolai. "That is why I need to go to London. I want to make sure he's okay."
"You know he can well take care of himself," Draco insisted, clearly not as happy as I was to have my internship at St. Mungo's reinstated.
"I know that," I snapped. But at his expression, I let out a sigh. "Objectively, I know that, but… I still worry. With how things are shaping up, I just want to make sure. I don't have as much freedom to write to him now, mostly because of Umbridge and her little power trip… We haven't spoken much. This is my opportunity, to go and make sure it's all alright. I just want to make sure he's alright…"
"I know no matter what I say you're going to go. I doubt even your father revoking the internship would stop you," Draco sighed, and I gave him a small smile. "But don't do anything stupid. If it seems too risky, wait if you have to. I don't want you at St. Mungo's for the wrong reasons."
As he spoke, Draco wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Gingerly, he rubbed my arm, pulling me closer to him. He was worried, and I knew that, but I still didn't appreciate the constant reminder. I knew what I was doing.
As if reading my thoughts, or seeing it in the frown on my face, Draco gave me a crooked smile. Using his arm to pull me closer once more, he leaned in to kiss the side of my head. But before I could complain, a sound interrupted us. The door opened suddenly, with no warning of a knock. I jumped a bit at the creak, quickly turning a worried look, as only a few people ever entered without permission. From the opening I watched the intruder peak inside before taking a graceful step forward.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?"
"Of course not," Draco called cheerfully, before I had a chance to answer. He stood from the bed and went over to greet my mother with a smile on his face. "How are you, Karissa? You look lovely today. Of course, when do you not?"
"Oh, Draco, aren't you just darling as always," she cooed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Draco kept the arrogant smirk on his face, as I rolled my eyes at the two.
"What is it, mum?" I called, but stood myself along with them.
"Oh, right. Well, of course, I came to say hello," she began, fawning over Draco. She smiled at him, tucking a loose strand of his hair back into place. "But I was wanting to know if you'd like to join us for dinner, darling."
"I wouldn't want to impose," Draco commented, turning a smug look my way.
"Nonsense, right dear?" my mother asked with a look, hers far more innocent.
"We'd love to have you," I spoke with a stiff smile. Draco kept his look as he turned back to my mother.
"Then I would love to stay."
"Excellent," my mother called, clapping her hands cheerfully. "I'll make sure to tell the staff to add an extra place setting. And I'll leave you to spend some time together until then."
"Thank you, Karissa, for the kind offer," Draco smiled widely at her.
"Yeah, thanks," I grumbled in response. But much in character, she was unphased by my tone.
"Of course, you're always welcomed here," she cooed over at Draco once more. "But, I'm sure you two have some things to catch up on, so I'll take my leave."
With that, my mother said her goodbyes and sauntered back down the stairs. Draco waited until she reached the steps before closing the door again. As he walked the distance back to me the arrogant look never left his face. Giving him a certain look myself, I shook my head.
"You really are something, you know."
"What? I can't help that I'm lovable," Draco remarked, knowing exactly what I was referring to. Seeing he needed an example, I placed a faint hand against my forehead.
"Oh, Karissa," I mocked, earning me a smirk, "have I told you just how lovely you look today?"
"What? She does," Draco shrugged. "You could too if you put in the effort."
"Oh, please," I rolled my eyes at him. "First of all, I take care of myself plenty, just not enough to be made an effort. Secondly, we both know you're just being a sycophant."
"A what?" he interjected.
"You're sucking up," I clarified with a tone. Now he was the one to roll his eyes.
"Why do you always have to insist on using words most people only find in a thesaurus? And I'm not, I mean what I say. I thought you'd know that. Or… are you just jealous?" Draco teased, stepping closer to me. "Am I not giving you enough attention? Is that what this is about?"
"You can't just claim it's jealousy any time I have any complaints about you," I scoffed in return.
"Katerina, you look beautiful today," Draco spoke slowly, taking my hand. I gave him a frown.
"You're not funny."
"You… you are the light of my life," he continued, trying to make his face appear more serious. I took a step back, but he closed it just as quickly.
"Stop it."
"The way the sun makes your eyes shine bright, or that nest you call your hair—"
"Stop," I insisted, turning away, pulling his hand from mine. With a now freed grip, Draco placed a hand on either side of my face, forcing me to look at him.
"Don't you dare take your eyes off me, because I could never dream of taking mine off you."
"I will hex you!"
Through my warning I could feel my cheeks hot against his hands. Looking down at me his arrogant smirk melted into a warm smile. Slowly, Draco pulled my face closer, and instinctively I closed my eyes. Once he had closed enough distance, Draco leaned in and kissed my forehead. When I opened them once more, his smirk had returned.
"So was something like that good? A bit too much? Not enough? Any tips would be helpful, I just want to make sure you are satisfied," he spoke with the same arrogant tone. With a huff, I swatted at his hands, making him chuckle. Finally, I managed to push him away.
"I'm telling my mother you've changed your mind about dinner," I grumbled, crossing him. Now his chuckle had turned into a full laugh.
"No… come on… I was joking," Draco tried to explain between fits of laughter. "Joking!"
He reached for me a couple of times before catching me in his grasp. Ignoring my struggle against his grip, Draco pulled me back into place. Now closer to him, he wrapped both arms around mine. His laughter moved me as he leaned against my back. I pouted, but no longer moved, instead choosing to wait. And it was another moment before his laughter ceased.
"Are you done?" I grumbled, not looking at him.
"Yeah," he nodded, but I heard the leftover chuckle. I tried to pull away once more, but only earned myself a smile. "So I can come to dinner, then?"
"Oh, shove it."
"That's not very ladylike," Draco teased, leaning into my shoulder. I threw an elbow back in return.
"Should I say it with a curtsy next time?" I scoffed, and he gave me a shrug.
"Give it a try, I'll let you know if it helps," he joked, but this time let me go. I cleared my throat.
"Yes, well," I began, swatting at my clothes, "back to what we were doing… Since I'm sure dinner will start soon, we should stop any unnecessary conversation. So instead of London, let's change the subject."
"Sounds like an excuse to me, but alright," Draco shrugged. I chose to ignore that.
"Why don't we talk about Christmas? As in, what did you get me," I smiled, though half heartedly. Either not noticing, or pretending not to, Draco gave me a full smile in return.
"You're so impatient," Draco sighed, "can't you wait?"
"You know I don't like surprises. I just want to make sure you got me something nice, is all," I waved a hand dismissively. His smile widened.
"I think between the two of us, I'm better at these things," Draco commented as I frowned.
"Says you. I think my presents are wonderful," I crossed my arms at him.
"Says you," Draco repeated, ignoring my pout. "But it's not your fault, you've just developed very poor taste lately."
"Excuse me?" I protested, but he answered as though it were a real question.
"Your tastes have really gone downhill recently, or rather, for about a year now. I wonder… is there anything your poor taste could have come from? Anything at all? Maybe, even something around Christmas last year…" Draco spoke slowly, clearly referring to George. I gave him a sigh.
"You know what, that's it," I threw up my hands, before pointing the way. "Go wash up for dinner."
"We haven't even been called to our meal—"
"Go!" I insisted, pushing him in the direction of the washroom.
He rolled his eyes but did as I said. As Draco passed through the threshold, I sat myself on my bed. I reached down and covered my face; it still felt warm. Ever since he had supposedly gone back to normal, I realized he acted in a way that could easily be misinterpreted. Which, thinking about it now, explained a lot. Not that I believed there was anything behind it. He was joking, after all. Still, I couldn't stop myself from reacting like this sometimes, when he made his little jokes.
"What are you pouting for? I washed, see?" Draco called, exiting the washroom and coming to join me on the bed. He raised his palms and wiggled his fingers to demonstrate.
"I see," I sighed, and stood myself up. If I had pushed him to clean up, it was only fair I do the same. I began to walk away but paused. Curious, Draco looked up at me. "I'm glad you're staying for dinner."
"Oh?" he gave me a smirk, already making me regret my words.
"Don't think too much of it," I rolled my eyes at him. "My parents have been a bit overbearing; you'll make for a good distraction is all."
"Anytime," he reached up towards me. I slapped his hand away.
"Shove it," I leaned down with a curtsy. As I turned back towards the washroom, I heard Draco laugh once more behind me.