The bright morning light filtered in through the blinds, resulting in groans from a disheveled lump on the couch. Raising his arm over his eyes, Draco tried to shut out the cheery sunlight. When he finally conceded victory to the sun, he slowly sat up. Immediately, his head started pounding, an after-effect from multiple fire-whiskeys he had consumed the night before.
“Bloody alcoholic,” he muttered to himself, looking at the empty decanter and dirty shot glass on the table in front of him. He leaned his head back onto the couch, willing his headache to stop. When that didn’t work, he began looking around for his wand, with the hope of casting a sobriety charm on himself.
“Ah ha.” He picked up his wand, chanted the appropriate words and felt the headache lesson almost immediately. He stood up, treating his entire body to a full lingering stretch. Heading towards the shower, he began casting off his rumpled robes from the night before.
“Ahhh,” he moaned as he felt the hot water coarse over his body. He stood under the water jets for several minutes, trying to clear his mind of the images from last night’s dinner party.
What a disaster that was, he snickered to himself. He’d certainly been a gracious host- well, gracious for a Malfoy, he thought, snickering again. He went through the motions with Pansy Parkinson and her parents. He’d inquired after the family businesses, laughed at the expected “mudblood” jokes, related various pieces of Ministry gossip, and tolerated Pansy’s insipid flirting. At the end of the night, he bid a polite, if cold, farewell to the Parkinsons before helping his mother up to bed. His mother had been barely coherent by that time. He sighed, knowing she’d probably needed a much stronger hangover charm than the one he’d given himself this morning. The house elves do have the best cures for hangovers, he thought with a smirk.
When he finished his shower, he stepped out and toweled himself dry. He could have used any number of various drying spells for his body or his hair. But a towel works, too, he thought. He walked into his bedroom. Looking over at his perfectly made bed, he tried to remember the last time he’d actually made it to his bedroom to sleep.
“I’m bloody pathetic,” he said aloud. He opened the top drawer of his dresser, looking for clean undergarments. He smiled as he also took out Louisa’s picture.
“Maybe I’m not so pathetic,” he said, looking intently at the picture. He placed the picture back in the drawer and finished getting dressed. He knew Louisa would be expecting him soon and he’d never keep her waiting.
Now dressed in comfortable muggle jeans and a rich brown jersey shirt, he walked back towards the kitchen. With a tap of his wand, his magically-enhanced espresso machine instantly produced the highly charged drink he needed to be fully awake. He was on his second espresso when the post arrived.
He recognized both birds immediately. One was Dumbledore’s magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, and the other was the petite brown owl, “Toof,” that now belonged to Louisa. Fawkes deposited his letter and then departed without even pausing for a drink of water. Draco could see that he had other letters to deliver as well.
“Must be Order business,” he mumbled, laying the letter on the counter. He turned his attention to Toof, untying the clumsy knot that attached the letter to the owl’s leg. When he freed the owl of its little burden, he offered it some water. It didn’t seem to want to go anywhere, so Draco assumed that Louisa expected an answer to her post. Smiling, he took both letters into his library.
Louisa- always first, he thought, unrolling her letter, noting that it was only addressed to “Daddy.”
“Smart owl,” he said aloud before looking down again at the childish scrawl.
Dear Daddy,
Thanks again for giving me Toof! I have been thinking about what adventures we might have today. I think you should bring your broom and that we should fly over the world. What do you think? Ms. Dorothy suggested that we take a picnic lunch, too, though I did not tell her about the flying idea.
Please tell me if this is okay with you so I can wear the right clothes! I’ve asked Toof to stay there until you send an answer.
Love,
Your Louisa
Draco chuckled aloud at her demands. Louisa certainly is a Malfoy, he thought. He rummaged through his desk to find a quill and a fresh piece of parchment. Quickly, he replied to his daughter and then sent Toof on its way.
“As always, my love, you will get whatever you want from me,” he said softly as he watched her little owl fly off into the crisp morning.
He sat back down at his desk. Opening the seal on the second letter, he felt himself tense ever so slightly.
Voldemort was gone. Well, no one really knew what had happened to Voldemort. Though he didn’t like to talk about it, Draco suspected, like most of the other Order members, that the Dark Lord was biding his time, as he had done before. As far as he knew, though, there had been no substantial Dark activity lately. He kept up with that kind of knowledge- not only because he was a spy for the Order, but also because of Louisa. There was no way he’d let Voldemort find her.
Draco shook his head, trying to drive away that particular thought. He looked down at the letter, surprised to see that his own hands were shaking ever so slightly.
Dear Draco Malfoy,
I request your attendance at a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix Sunday night at 8 o’clock. We will convene at the usual place.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
There was no need to send a response. He’d be there and Dumbledore knew it. He sighed, as he continued to look at the parchment. She’d be there, too.
He tried not to think of her too much. When he did, he inevitably wound up feeling guilty for being so hateful to her for so many years. He stifled the urge to knock everything off of his desk.
“I am such a jerk,” he said loudly. “She’d never think any different of me.” And why should she? he thought, not daring to say it aloud. He used to hope that his participation with the Order might win him a few points. But he always concluded that he could never really undo the damage he’d inflicted when they were still at Hogwarts.
I can’t think of this now, he mused. Louisa is waiting for her adventure, after all. He went to the hallway to grab his muggle coat. It appeared to be a warm day but he knew how chilly it could be when flying on his broomstick.