Authors notes: I want to thank my BETAs Koorime and ChibiBecca. I would also like to appologise if people start craving cookies oo; Oh, and this Fic is set in Bath, Wiltshire, my hometown, so sorry if it sounds like a travel brochure at times ^^
He spent his last week in Bath rather restfully after all the excitement Harry’s presence had caused. He sat and read his favorite muggle literature, ate cookies from ‘Jay’s’ (often with a smile) did a little more shopping and mostly just relaxed, enjoying the time alone.
He had wondered a few times what it was going to be like between the two of them when they met up again on the Hogwarts Express on September first. Hopefully it would be as it had been for the past few days, but he expected it to be a little awkward, if not highly embarrassing. Ultimately though, he trusted to fate and turned his mind to other things.
He sighed and watched the nighttime countryside flying by at a moderately fast speed. He was sat in a muggle taxi no more than a few minutes from home. He didn’t particularly like traveling by taxi, but it was the only way to get around if you had as much luggage as he did. With all his baggage apparating was out of the question and Floo would just be ridiculously unsafe. So, he had simply opted for the muggle way.
He leaned his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes, thoughts turning almost instantly to the last time he had seen Harry. It had of course been awkward, and in his eyes, unimaginably soppy, but it kind of brought a smile to his face. Holding the raven-haired Gryffindor just felt right, and to be able to do it after all these years, all the years of denial, of love hidden behind aggression, it just felt like home.
He cracked one eye open as the taxi began to slow. Home already? Wonderful. Oh, well, at least he had house elves to help him get everything in at this end. The car pulled up into the long gravel-covered drive and stopped by the large double doors, the entrance to Malfoy Manor.
He lugged his things up the stone stairway with the drivers help and dumped it all at the top, right in front of the doors. He stood and waved the guy off after paying him, watching the red, white and yellow lights disappear round the bend before turning and unlocking the right hand door.
“Mother? Are you home?” His voice echoed around the large entrance hall, bouncing back to him from the far wall where two staircases curved their way up either side of closed mahogany doors that led into his father’s library. There was no reply and the only sound he could hear was that of the fountain in his mother’s conservatory to the left of him. Well, that wasn’t anything new.
He kicked his bags through the door and closed it behind him, resting his hand on the handle for a moment, listening to the quiet house. Where were the damn house elves? Shaking his head he slipped his arms out of the lightweight, long sleeved cape, turning to place it on the fifth hook as always.
His pale eyes rested on a midnight blue cloak hanging on the peg in the exact center of the long row.
His eyes widened as memory stirred within his panicked mind. His hands began to tremble and he lost his grip on the cloak. The thin material drifted to the floor, pooling at his feet in soft waves.
‘Oh god no. Not now. He said he’d be back next year, not now,’ his mind raged with the plea as he realised Harry had been right. Harry had warned him this might happen, pleaded with him to go somewhere else for the remainder of the holiday. He should have heeded him.
He heard movement behind him but didn’t turn; he didn’t want to know who or what it was.
The voice was coming from behind him, from his mother’s conservatory. He recognized that voice and wished it had been someone else, wished he had sent one of the Death Eaters to do his dirty work for him as he normally did. Unable to help himself, he turned.
Voldemort was standing in the doorway of the conservatory, his snake-like features glistening as he moved slightly, dark robes trailing on the ground behind his tall, thin form. The Dark Lord stepped forward, his hand moving from the enveloping robes.
His legs nearly gave way as the monstrosity before him locked his eyes with a deep red, cat-like gaze.
“Draco, we have been waiting for you. I do so hate to be kept waiting.”
There was a wand in the skeletal hand. His eyes flicked to it, pale blue-gray now a deep shade, betraying the fear enveloping him. He took a step back, trying to get away from whatever the Dark Lord had planned for him.
Voldemort’s eyes flickered and his thin mouth moved into a faint smile as he raised his wand.
* * * *
To be continued.
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