After the night at Pansy's, Draco had to finally admit to himself that maybe the room was having some effect on him. That maybe being with other witches didn't have the same appeal it had just a few short weeks ago.
Thankfully Pansy was able to guess what the issue was, Draco having told her about the Malfoy ritual years ago when they were dating. Their years of intimacy meant that instead of feeling inadequate or blaming herself like many other witches might, Pansy knew that something else must be wrong and didn't fault her performance for Draco's inability to finish. They had spoken for only a few minutes before Draco left, desperate for a shower and a drink.
Thinking back, Draco could notice some other differences that he didn't pay attention to at the time. How Pansy's moans, normally so loud and echoing, seemed to blend into the background, providing a generic background soundtrack to their performance rather than being the star of the show.
There was also the incredible need to finish, which at the time he attributed to just wanting to feel that sweet release orgasm offered. But it wasn't just that. It was also a strong desire for it to be over. Like his body couldn't fight the fact that it felt good, but his mind just wanted the whole event to be done and wanted to punish him for putting it in this position in the first place, rather than allow a toe-curling orgasm in reward.
Draco hadn't mentioned any of this to his parents. How could he? "Good morning, mother. I've noticed that shagging other witches just isn't the same anymore - I've been with several over the past few weeks, you know - and I've even resorted to having to finish myself with my own hand. Can you believe it?"
He was currently in his bedroom at the manor. It was large, opening up to a lounge area with a couple dark high-back chairs and a chaise. A fireplace was located on the far wall, shared between the lounge and sleeping parts of his bedroom. He sat on one of the high-backed chairs, nursing a glass filled with an amber liquid.
His eyes were focused on the wall to the left, boring a hole approximately where the newly created door would be in the hallway outside his bedroom. Over the past couple of days since Pansy's he'd contemplated the use of several destructive curses against the door, but ultimately decided against resorting to destructive forces until he learned more about what was going on. His father was spending time going through journals in the Malfoy library, trying to see if maybe this had happened before. It's not like it's something that would be passed down proudly between generations like the success stories were. So far he hadn't had any luck.
Draco also knew his parents continuously visited the room, hoping to find a secret or hidden artefact that might give them a clue as to who his mystery partner could be. His mother in particular had taken to visiting every morning and evening recently, her desperation to resolve the problem manifesting as manic pacing and hyperfocused review of the room's interior.
That fucking room. His life was basically perfect before it showed up. His family had finally moved past all the post-war reparations and were starting to reclaim their place in the political world. Draco was a free agent, and after representing the Malfoy family while his father was under house arrest he felt much closer to being the head of the family than he ever had before.
Then this room appears and takes over every part of his thoughts, seeping into every aspect of his life.
Draco knew it shouldn't, that the effects of the room were relatively localised in his life. That this room would hinder his romantic relationship, but it shouldn't have any effect on his career aspirations, spending time with his friends, or exploring the world. But the damned room wouldn't leave his mind no matter how much he tried. He supposed that was part of the magic, too - making your partner the most important thing in your mind, to ensure you got together and had good little pureblood Malfoy babies like you were supposed to. But because he of course apparently didn't have a partner, his mind was set to be filled with images of a damned empty room for the rest of his life.
He slammed his glass down onto the end table, some of the alcohol sloshing out over the side. He stood up from the chair and stomped out of his room, into the hallway, and stood in front of that fucking stupid door which led to this fucking stupid room. He pushed it open aggressively, pleased to hear the sound of the door crashing against the wall inside the room.
"Hey, room," he yelled into the darkness. With no windows and no lighting, the room was extremely dark. "Fuck you."
If he couldn't burn the room literally, he'd have to settle for a figurative burning.
He began a long tirade using every curse word he'd ever learned. He didn't stop in English, but added French, Italian, and Spanish as well. And when he exhausted the list of expletives in his repertoire, he began again, using them in new and inventive ways to express his frustration.
When his anger finally subsided and he found the limits of his cursing creativity, Draco leaned against one of the walls and dejectedly slumped down, sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest and forehead resting atop them. He'd felt like he did during sixth year; completely helpless and devoid of free will, tied to the whim of something completely beyond him.
When he finally lifted his head from his knees and peered once again into the empty room, he noticed something. A small glint on the floor, reflected in the light coming in from the hallway. He shifted to reach forward, fingertips reaching for where he could still see that faint reflection, until they brushed against something. Did he drop something on his way in? Was it a piece knocked from the door when he thrust it open moments before? It felt smooth and cool, and he brought it closer to his face to inspect it.
It was a locket. Silver, hanging off a delicate silver chain. It was simple and nondescript except for a collection of three differently coloured stones on the front, sprouting as different branches on an etched tree. The gem stones were red, blue, and green, and he recognized them as ruby, sapphire, and emerald based on other Malfoy family jewellery he'd helped his mother inventory after the war. Having gone through several days of that inventory, he felt confident that this particular piece of jewellery was not a part of the extensive Malfoy collection.
He noticed a small clasp on the bottom of the locket and saw that it flipped up to reveal two photos, one of a young man and the other a young woman. They looked to be about Draco's age.
"Yes," Draco breathed, clutching the locket. As much as he didn't want to be tied down to a single witch for the rest of his life, being with one witch sounded better than being with none, and this felt like the first clue to her identity. If he knew what she looked like, he was one step closer to finding her. He took a moment to study the photo more closely, ignoring the man completely for now. The photo was in black and white and was not moving; possibly an artefact from the malfunctioning room. The woman had short, slightly wavy hair and a bright smile. Her eyes were almond shaped and she had a small dimple on her right cheek. Her skin appeared clear; no freckles or blemishes. She was wearing what appeared to be pearl earrings. The photo was a closely cropped portrait, and did not include any clues about the mystery woman's whereabouts.
Draco was sure he'd never seen this woman before, but there was also a sense of familiarity somehow from the photo. Was this the magic telling him that she should feel familiar, because she was his preordained partner? Or had he possibly seen her somewhere before in passing and this was his subconscious subtly recalling that?
Regardless, he finally had his first piece of evidence to show that the ritual had worked, and that alone heightened his spirits. Knowing who his partner was would be the first step to fixing this whole mess. He slipped the locket into his pocket and left the room, closing the door far more gently on his way out. It was time to talk to his parents about this new discovery, and see if either of them were familiar with the identity of the witch in the locket.
He found his parents in the sitting room, which was normal for their regular post-dinner nightly schedule. Once formal dinner was over, Draco would either sit with his parents or retire to his own quarters until late evening (which he did tonight, in order to have a glass or two of firewhiskey on his own, wallowing in self pity and contemplating what the rest of his life was going to look like), at which point Narcissa and Lucius would sit with their last cup of tea for the day before retiring.
They both looked up at him when he entered the room. "Draco," Narcissa greeted, as she always did when he entered a room in her presence.
"I found something in the room," he said, almost breathless from his quick sprint from his quarters to his parents' sitting room. He was not in the mood for polite conversation and needed to get right to the point. "It was a photo, a photo of her."
Both of his parents looked startled at that news. "Really?" Narcissa asked, hand clutched over her chest.
Lucius, ever the pragmatist, said "Show it to me."
Draco was all too happy to oblige, since having his parents look at the photo was the main goal of the evening. He reached into his pocket to show them the locket, but found nothing.
Frantic, he began checking his other pockets, even though he was certain this was the one he'd slipped it into. Where was it? It must be here somewhere. Maybe it had fallen out on his run here? That must be -
"Draco," his mother interrupted gently. "I know this has been difficult. But your father and I promise that we're doing all we can to look into it."
Draco gave her a slightly confused look, not really understanding how that was supposed to help him find the missing locket.
Lucius again to provide the more direct comment. "How many drinks have you had tonight, Draco?"
Merlin, they think I'm drunk and imagining the whole thing, Draco thought. They were wasting time that could be better spent identifying his witch. He gritted his answer through clenched teeth. "Two."
It was mostly honest. That was the number he'd had after dinner, anyway, which he felt was the most relevant to the conversation, since he obviously wasn't drunk at dinner.
"I'm not drunk," he continued, levelling Lucius with one of the looks he'd been perfecting in his time as effective head of the household. "And the locket was there. I put it in my pocket in the room, and now it's not there."
Narcissa was always the first to take her son's side. "Let's walk back to the room then, shall we? Maybe we'll spot it on the way." Draco wasn't sure if that meant she believed him, but he was grateful to her for steering the conversation in a way that led them back to the locket.
Without a word, Draco turned on his heels and started retracing his steps, not waiting to confirm whether his parents were following him. His eyes ran along the ground as he walked, flitting left and right and left again looking for any glint of silver reflected off the hallway lights. He was again standing outside of the ritual room before he realised where he was.
His parents stood on either side of him, unsure of what to say. He hadn't found the locket, and based on their reaction he knew they never expected him to.
"Let me check if it's still inside," he said, realising how pitiful it sounded even to his own ears. He opened the door and stepped inside the room for the second time tonight, and gasped. The locket was sitting on the floor in the same place it had been previously, the reflection of the light making it almost as if the damned thing was winking at him.
He snapped it up quickly and turned to his parents, holding it out to them. "See?" he exclaimed, starting to walk out of the room so they could all examine it better in the light of the hallway. "I don't know what happened, but I think an apology is in order - "
As soon as he crossed the threshold of the room, the locket disappeared from his hands. Blinking at his empty palm for a second, Draco then turned behind him to see the locket again sitting on the floor, winking prettily at him once more.
"It can't leave the room," Lucius noted, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"Fine," Draco said, anger rising again. Could nothing go right with this whole process? "If we can't bring it outside, we'll just all have to come in here to look at it."
Narcissa made to step into the room when her foot suddenly brought up against something solid. "Lucius?" she asked, turning to her husband for answers.
Lucius tried to enter the room as well, but found himself up against the same barrier.
"What is going on?" Draco yelled. "I thought you'd both been in here every day for the past three weeks!"
"We have," Narcissa insisted, before Lucius continued with "Perhaps the room now recognizes this area to belong to your partner, now that there's something in it. If that's the case, your mother and I may be unable to enter until permission is granted from the owner."
"The owner being my partner?" Draco confirmed. Lucius nodded.
Fantastic, Draco thought. Not only can I not bring anything out of the room, now no one other than me and whoever this woman in the locket is can enter.
Hoping that this mystery would soon be solved when his parents saw the photo, Draco held the locket out as close as he could to the open door to let his parents see. He opened the locket and indicated the woman in the top photo. "Her. Do you recognize her?"
Draco's face paled as he watched both of his parents shake their heads 'no'.