dislike ↠ draco malfoy

forty-seven

Draco

I left Evangeline in the guest bedroom. She needed to get some sleep. I was just happy that she was finally safe.

I closed the bedroom door and crept down the stairs. I walked into the kitchen, where my mother was sitting at the counter, a glass of wine clutched in her hand. She turned toward me. "Draco, dear. Come sit down."

"Hey, mum," I muttered. I slid into a barstool next to her.

"You want some?" she asked quietly, shaking the glass of wine in her hand. "I usually wouldn't let you, but I think you deserve some, and you're old enough now."

"Sure," I murmured.

She across the table and retrieved another wine glass. She poured the wine into the glass and handed it to me.

"Thanks." I took the wine from her. I knocked it back and downed half of the glass in one gulp. I grimaced. Wine honestly tasted like shit, but it felt nice to drink it. I set the glass down and turned back to look at my mother. She was continuing to drink her wine in small, dainty sips. "Does he know?"

"What, dear?" she asked. She looked like she was lost in thought.

"The Dark Lord," I said. "Does he know that we let the prisoners escape?"

She scoffed and tightened her grip around her wine glass. "I'm sure Bellatrix ran off and told him as soon as Evangeline and I went upstairs." She looked into my eyes. "She's good, Evangeline. She's a really good girl."

"I know." I downed the rest of my wine and set the glass down.

There was footsteps in the hall and my mother and I turned our heads to see my father enter the kitchen. "He's here," he said. "Get up." He turned to my mother. "And put the alcohol away, Narcissa," he snapped.

My mother glared at him and grabbed the wine glasses and began to wash them out.

"You-Know-Who's here?" I asked my father.

"The man himself," my father drawled. "He's in the parlour." He grabbed me by the collar and led me into the parlour.

And there he was, Voldemort himself, sitting on our couch. Nagini, his snake, was lounging on the floor next to him, hissing softly.

Voldemort raised his head to look at us as we entered. "Ah, hello, Draco," he said.

I gulped. "My Lord," I managed to choke out.

He held his arm out. "Sit."

I walked over and sat in the armchair across from the couch. My father sat in the other one. My mother emerged into the room and sat on the third armchair.

"We need to talk, Lucius," Voldemort drawled. "About the recent breakout. How the hell did this happen?"

"I don't know, my Lord," my father replied, his voice getting smaller.

"You're full grown adults," he hissed. "And you let five children escape."

"And an adult and a goblin," I said quietly, but immediately shut my mouth.