Everlasting (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Day Before

As you and Draco entered through the fireplace into the large room with the dining table at the Malfoy Manor again, you found the entire house to be dark and quiet. It was already past midnight so you assumed for Narcissa and Snape to be asleep. You bore light-hearted smiles and laughter from the previous conversations you'd had at Grimmauld Place, and Draco proved in a very calm spirit from the kind way he was treated at Grimmauld Place. He expected himself to be cast off and treated with rudeness, but having Blaise there made the matter easier, not to mention the wholesome manner in which Mrs Weasley inquired after his health and whether he's been taking care of himself, after which she informed him that he was to take care of you, no matter what. He told her that he fully intends to, and she further offered him tea. Thus, Draco felt like he belonged with you more than ever.

"What an evening," you exclaimed, smiling as you strolled into Draco's bedroom, holding his hand.

"You know ... aside from your dumb brother, they're all really nice. They were really welcoming. Even though I'm assuming they're all suspicious about me being a ... well, you know."

"They are all really great people." You smiled, flopping down onto Draco bed and sighing in relaxation. "Although, I can't help but wonder what Blaise was doing there."

"Oh," Draco laughed, taking off his blazer and hanging it around his chair, "I asked him when you were all talking."

"And?"

"He says he went to see Ginny ... as friends."

"As friends?" You scoffed, throwing your dress off yourself. "Friends my ass."

"We fucked whilst we said we didn't like each other. Imagine what they're doing as they call each other friends," he laughed, unbuttoning his shirt.

"I still don't like you."

"Me neither."

"I'm still waiting for you to burn to death for the theatre."

"Oh, come on - you loved it," he grinned at you across the room as he took his shirt off. He proceeded to unbuckle his belt as he took it off, leaving you to stare at him with flushed cheeks. There was just something so perfect about Draco and him doing normal things, even undressing. He simply looked exquisite within every action and choice.

"You look good with a tattoo," you smiled lightly at him finally as you threw on one of Draco's shirts.

"Tattoo? Oh. It's ... not something I necessarily like about myself."

"I noticed," you hummed, slowly approaching him, "were these scratches?"

He pursed his lips, looking at you sternly.

"I love you," you finally exhaled before bringing down his face to yourself, kissing him softly, which caused him to relax immediately.

The next day was the final day of Christmas holidays, meaning Draco had packed for Hogwarts again as you shoved the little clothes you'd bought over your time spent here and your belongings into his suitcase. Most of your things remained at Hogwarts, yet the stuff that you'd taken home got burned. Albus was, nevertheless, ready with Niklaus too. And, as you sat downstairs with Snape, Draco and Narcissa, she decided to invite you to follow her outside so that she could show you the flowers clearly. You were more than glad to go with her, leaving Snape and Draco to watch in a confused manner as to why anyone would want to admire flowers.

"How was the theatre yesterday then? You returned late." Snape asked Draco as soon as you and Narcissa left.

"The theatre? Amazing."

"You have a thing for ... Shakespeare?"

"Shakespeare? Oh, no. I have a thing for making [F/n] orgasm in the darkness in front of people."

You and Narcissa became so invested in the flowers that you failed to acknowledge the matters going on back inside; the manner in which Snape lightly chased Draco around the sitting room, his wand out, threatening Draco back and forth as Draco cried out and ran from him after the comment he'd just made.

The snow was still lightly piled on the grass and the flowers, but it only added to the picturesque aesthetic. There were plenty of colours, various shapes of different gorgeous flowers: roses, carnations, snapdragons, amaryllis, magnolia. You'd seen all these flowers somewhere before; in a different world, a different universe. In your own mind. In a dream. A dream in which you succumbed to Draco; to your love for him, bringing eternal peace to yourself. Here you were, one with Draco in heart and soul, gazing upon these flowers.

"They're beautiful," you smiled out, in awe at the beauty of the flowers. "I assume you take care of them?"

"Yes. Nor Draco, nor Lucius would bother with something like this," she laughed out gently. "[F/n] ... I have something to ask of you." She said, turning to you.

"Of course."

"When you are back at Hogwarts ... please take care of Draco. I know Snape will protect him, but there is only so much he can do. Draco's happiness heavily lies on you ... and I know that you know. You've seen the mark, I believe?"

"I have."

"Thank you for staying by him."

"But ... this isn't something Draco wants," you said quietly, knowing that it might hit the wrong nerve. But it did not. She agreed.

"I know," she sighed, "truth be told, [F/n], I would not wish this upon Draco. And Lucius ... he wouldn't either. I know you and Lucius aren't on the best of terms, but he really does love Draco, and I promise you ... it was not up to us."

"Did Voldemort make him do it?"

"As a punishment to us."

"A punishment?"

"Lucius' inability to retrieve the prophecies from you back then ... it made the Dark Lord angry. As punishment to us ... the Death Eaters have been hosting meetings at our house. And the worst part is ... they dragged Draco into it. But, [F/n], he's ... he's just a boy."

"I know. What was in the prophecy?"

"We don't know."

"But Voldemort knows?"

"Most likely."

You pursed your lips and sharpened your eyes. Critical thinking time. You thus turned away from Narcissa, looking at the flowers as you began to think back to the fight at the Ministry. The prophecies ... you and Harry had your own, and it's true - Lucius was very keen on taking them. But they smashed. The prophecies were gone, thus you would not find out what was within them. Of course, unless ... unless you spoke to the person whose prophecy it was.

"Oh, Tom is getting on my nerves, I tell you," you whispered out to yourself in an exasperated tone, but Narcissa heard and raised her eyebrow.

"Tom?"

"Oh. Voldemort."

"Who is Tom?"

"Voldemort."

"I don't understand."

"We're old pals," you cleared your throat, "he wasn't always Voldemort."

Narcissa stared at you in shock at your knowledge, and whilst it partially worried her that you knew such details, she could not help but feel comforted to know that Draco was with you. It meant you had control; you knew what you were doing. Draco was going to be safe with you.

"I will take care of Draco. And I will kill Voldemort, whether anyone likes it or not."