Everlasting (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Paintings

In this moment of impulsiveness, never did it occur to you that this Malfoy Manor also belonged to Draco Malfoy. Of course, it was obvious. However, your mind had become so obsessed with the idea of Bellatrix and making her pay for all the damage she'd done to you and your family, that Mr Malfoy was long out of your mind. Had you thought about this beforehand, you probably would not have decided on this choice; you would have avoided this building at all costs, knowing very well who was waiting on the other side. But, perhaps, all things happen for a reason, and your falling into a fireplace in a large manor in which you'd never been before was one of the things which simply had to be done.

Groaning, you fell onto your knees as you fell through a fireplace. You looked up carefully, catching sight of an empty room. Large, very large. The ceiling was at a height which resembled that of a palace. Paintings hung around, alluding to the Old Money style of the house and the history it carried. The house was in general very dark and eerie, somewhat gothic, and the sight of it actually pleased you. The intricate design of the furniture and architecture of the interior was absolutely astounding. The fireplace itself was huge as you stepped out of it. Before you was a large, elongated table with at least thirty chairs around it; the chairs with detailed designs upon them, darkly painted. Slowly, you stepped closer to the table, walking as quietly as possible to avoid bringing attention to yourself. You outstretched your hand, placing two fingers on the table and running them along, feeling its incredible cleanliness and its coldness. The house gave away an eerie feeling in itself, but something incredibly alluring about its design.

You turned your head, examining closely the paintings upon the walls. They were fine pieces of art, executed incredibly. Only in this moment did it become entirely clear to you how wealthy the Malfoy family really was, and all the history their family carried. You'd never considered money much, for you never believed that one's wealth equates to the quality of their personality. However, there was one specific painting that stood out to you properly. Upon it were three figures; a mother, a father, and a young son. The father and the son bore the same bleached blonde hair, staring at the painter with stern looks. The mother carried a solemn expression, looking at the painter, her head lifted proudly but with little expression in her face. The boy; your heart tore itself apart when you examined the boy carefully. Though the painting was high up, causing you to stare up, you could see the intricate details of the little boy's face. It was this very face that you adored so deeply, that you devoted your heart to. However, seeing this face upon the painting made you realise two of the largest mistakes of your life which hadn't occurred to you previously.

The first mistake; what it really meant to fall in love with a Malfoy.

The second mistake; you were in Draco's house and it never occurred to you that the asshole was here.

As you looked upon the painting for a moment longer, your heart leaped out of your chest when you heard the approaching of footsteps, followed by the exchange of two voices. A male and female voice; you recognised the male voice well - a little too well, and merely hearing it struck your heart, for you had not anticipated to hear this voice in a place like this. Panicking, you shot your eyes around the room, searching for a place to hide. The voices were getting closer, right around the corner, whereas you could not find a single decent place to hide. Holding your breath, you risked it and dashed towards the window where the large curtains were hung up at the sides of the window. Thank God they were large, for it allowed you to fit yourself in behind one of the curtains and press yourself against the wall, hoping to form the smallest figure.

The two individuals entered the room in which you were hiding.

"I don't know what to do," the female voice called out solemnly.

"There is only so much ... " Severus Snape said slowly in his usual low tone, "I can do to help him and protect him. This sadness of his ... there is nothing I can do about it."

"Ever since ... ever since it started, Severus, he hasn't been the same. What is he like at school?"

A pause. You wished to be able to see the scene, however you knew the dangers of revealing yourself from behind the curtain. Thus, you held your breath and pressed yourself up against the wall tighter, praying to not get caught.

"He's hurting," Snape finally said with an exhale.

"Is it ... is it her?"

Silence followed.

No words were spoken for a couple of moments.

You did not know what was happening; whether you were about to get caught, whether they were whispering, whether Snape could not understand. And who was her? Well, you're about to find out.

"Yes, it is."

The woman cried out in anguish. "What can I do? How can I help him? I hate to see him like this, Severus. He barely leaves his room, he doesn't talk to any of us. He's been eating less! I am so worried for him. He doesn't ... he doesn't deserve any of this. Over the summer ... when I saw it, I witnessed it - I cannot imagine his pain."

"Miss Potter is suffering too," Snape added.

Bingo. Yet, why were you the topic of every conversation? Geez - you knew you were the main character and loveable as hell, but your fans were getting out of hand.

"Does she ... does she know?"

Snape paused again. "I should say no, but I am inclined to say yes."

"Yes?"

"Though it has not been explicitly said ... I believe she has figured it out by now. Not only so, but Mr Rowhound and I have become her suspects too. I believe that ... it is only a matter of time."

"A matter of time till what?"

"Well," Snape began, clearing his throat. Quietly, you heard footsteps again; approaching footsteps, as though they were coming towards the window. You gritted your teeth tightly, pushing yourself up against the wall more, your heart rate increasing. Snape's footsteps stopped at the window. "Perhaps, till she arrives."

"Arrives? Severus - what are you talking about?"

"I know [F/n] Potter, Narcissa," he said sternly and quickly, turning to her from the window, "and I know how impulsive the girl is."

"But - arrives!? Where? Here?"

"I believe she would be capable of something like that."

Am I that predictable?

"If that happens, what are we to do, Severus?"

Snape clicked his tongue, sighing. "There is little we can do."