Chapter Five

                                    

                                          
A few minutes after Draco had departed to St Mungos, Mish was sat in an armchair in the library, a book splayed open in her lap, even though she hadn't read one word since she'd opened it. She was busy thinking about Draco, trepidation clutching at her heart for their future. She was his wife, after all, even if they both weren't particularly close.
She wanted them to be close.
Then, as she absentmindedly traced the outline of the emerald necklace she was still wearing, far less pleasant thoughts invaded her mind, thoughts about what Ali would say were she here, which was problematic, because Ali wasn't here.
She sighed, feeling the giddiness rush out of her, a void replacing the excitable emotion. 
Unbidden tears gathered in her eyes, causing her to be angry at herself. She had never been one to embrace her emotions.
The sound of the door of the library opening broke her out of her rather unpleasant reverie, her eyes snapping towards the source of the noise, finding Narcissa walking in gracefully, manicured nails skimming over many spines of books before stopping at one, which she pulled out, walking and sitting down on the armchair in front of the one Mish occupied.
There was silence for a while, which gave Mish enough time to blink her tears away, pretending to read her book. 
"You know, Mish, I won't lie, when me and Lucius forced Draco to marry you, I thought I was forcing my son into a life of unhappiness." Narcissa began, much to Mish's surprise.
"But I think it's safe to say I wasn't. He looks happy with you. He's always been fond of attention and an open book, but after the war, he became rather unforthcoming. I was concerned for him. Turns out I needn't have been. You're a brilliant young woman."
If only you knew how well we actually get along, Mish thought, but gratitude flooded her nonetheless at Narcissa's seemingly heartfelt words. 
So, she nodded, not sure of how to phrase her answer.
*
"Your mother is sweet." Mish said as she settled into bed the second night, laying still and staring at the ceiling, trying to distract herself from thinking of her predicament: Her feelings for Draco, growing at a steady, scary rate.
"She is," Draco said with a fond smile as he got into bed, maintaining some semblance of distance from Mish, unsure he'd be able to restrain himself from blushing and stuttering like a love struck teenager if he strayed closer to her. It had been hard enough, maintaining his composure when her leg had brushed up against his during dinner last night. 
Nothing more was said as each of them tried to sleep, trying to ignore the other's presence.
*
Mish wouldn't admit, but she was really, really enjoying waking up in Draco's arms. Well, once or twice she didn't wake up in his embrace, but that was because Draco woke up before her, but as he continually didn't say anything about it, she refrained from doing so, too.
It was oddly thrilling, having feelings for someone after a long time. She could pretend nothing had gone wrong, ever, in her life, and that all that mattered was this: Chasing this high, finding excuses to touch Draco, feeling butterflies erupt in her stomach when he did basically anything. It was annoying, yes, but addictive.
So now, she dreaded Narcissa's departure as much as she'd dreaded her arrival.
She'd have to move back to her room. She'd never been good at confessing her feelings, choosing to drop subtle, extremely subtle hints. If the person caught on and took the first step, then success, but if they didn't... Well, she'd wallow in her pity until her feelings died down, moving on with life, because in the end, it didn't really matter.