Draco fiddled with his wand, not daring to meet his mother's eyes. The clock in the background ticked off the seconds of her silence. It was a very thick silence, tensed with the words he had spoke only moments before. Thinking it would be best to ward off the explosion, he dared to add more.
"I just think it would be better to continue my education...elsewhere."
Narcissa raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow and pressed her lips together even tighter. She placed a hand on the nearest chair and took deep breaths in and out. When she finally spoke, she was not calm exactly, but very calm compared to what she could have been.
"And why should I even let you out of my sight again? You nearly got yourself killed!"
Draco raised his eyes to meet his father's, hoping there might be some sympathy there. Lucius had sat quietly by the fire, focused on a book. When the question had been asked, he had limply raised his head, as if he were curious to his wife's reaction. He was surprised to find his father did have a scrap of uderstanding deep down.
"We understand, son. I will write a letter to Durmstrang immediately."
Draco's heart skipped a beat. So it was really happening. He was going to Durmstrang.
Narcissa hissed in disbelief, her eyes slitted like a snake's. Sometimes Draco wondered if Voldemort had preferred his mother's fire over his father's easy submission to the rules he set.
"Lucius! You musn't!"
Lucius looked down at his book, though he did not seem to be reading. After a moment of silence, he said, "Let him go. It's time for that decision to be made anyway."
Draco stood, nodding respectfully to his father. He wasn't sure what exactly his father meant, but he was glad to be leaving the Manor once summer ended. The place was still haunted by the Dark Lord' presence. So much so that even when he was showering, he felt uneasy. There was no room that he had not ventured in, leaving his cold mark.
He did something unusual then, as he was leaving the room. He kissed his mother on the cheek. She stiffened in surprise, then seemed to melt.
"Oh Draco..."
He left abruptly, needing time to think. Emotional scenes were certainly not his favorite thing.
What to do with the rest of the summer? He wondered what the famous Potter was doing now. Probably soaking up praise and love. Typical Potter. The world would be all sunshine and rainbows for him now, while Draco's seemed to be getting darker and darker.
He wasn't entirely sure what he expected of Durmstrang. A new beginning, a new life. Anything. He knew it was time for things to change.
With that thought, he arrived at the door to his room. Smiling, he pushed it open, then froze.
An owl was swooping out of the room, leaving snow white feathers drifting lazily in his wake. How had the window been opened? Swallowing loudly, he stalked forward, trying to stay silent. He peeked out of the window, examining the grounds below. Nothing moved except for the albino peacock that Draco swore to kill one day. The accursed thing kept him up all night several times out of the week with its wailing.
Sighing heavily, he shut his window and turned to glare at his eagle owl, Thor.
"Why didn't you stop that thing?"
His bird ruffled his feathers haughtily and turned his back.
"Whatever," Draco mumbled, drifting over tot he bed where the mail lay.
The envelope was simple, with his name scrawled on the back messily. He opened it cautiously, not sure who to expect mail from. He didn't really have friends.
The first piece of paper that fell out was from Potter himself. Wrinkling his nose, Draco picked up parchment daintily and read.
It was in Dumbledore's will.
Dumbledore.
The name sent Draco's cheeks aflame. He had almost killed the old man. Should have. Never could have.
He picked up the second piece of paper, studying it for several moments before setting it down gently on his dresser. Locking his door, he turned to the window.
"Accio Nimbus," he whispered. There was a sharp whistling sound as his Nimbus flew to him.
"I'll be back, Thor," he called softly. He was truly going crazy. He was about to leave to see Potter of all people and now he was talking to birds.
As he soared out the grand window, the moon's rays stretched longingly forth, almost as if they were trying to caress the letter. Illuminated by the light, the dark words seem to glow.
Brace yourself, young Malfoy.
In the corner, Thor turned his beady eyes on the letter and let out a soft hoot. It almost sounded like laughter.
