XXXI - old man

                                    

                                          

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

"I heard you had an argument with Lucius."
Danica looked up, meeting Narcissa's icy blue eyes before lowering hers to her cup of lemon black tea, the warmth of the cup comfortably soaking into her palms. She took a careful sip, testing it with a tiny taste, almost hoping it would scald her tongue and give her an excuse to pause. When she looked up again, Narcissa was still watching her.
In her hand, Narcissa held a cup of black coffee. Danica resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose. She thought of Regulus, who took his coffee just the same, and she could almost hear him teasing her about her 'childish palate'.
Danica set her cup down with a soft clink and gave Narcissa a faint, bittersweet smile. "We really haven't spoken in weeks, huh?" she murmured. It stung more than she let on; they were still roommates, after all, but lately, Narcissa had been almost a ghost in their shared space, always somewhere at Malfoy's side. Only now, nearly a month after the Slug Club dinner, had they finally managed to find a moment together at the Three Broomsticks.
She sighed, feigning indifference. "Really, it was so long ago, I forgot it even happened." The lie was smooth, effortless—she had practiced it enough in her head. But of course, she hadn't forgotten. The memory of that night lingered, an unwelcome guest in her mind, resurfacing at the most inconvenient times.
Narcissa tilted her head slightly, her icy gaze sharpening as if she could read the truth between Danica's words. But she simply took a sip of her black coffee.
"I see..." Narcissa's voice was calm, trailing off into a silence that settled heavily between them.
The Three Broomsticks was bustling, warm with the scent of spiced mead and roasted chestnuts that mingled pleasantly in the air. Its wooden beams stretched above them, decorated with strings of garlands and sprigs of holly, already preparing for the holiday season. The low murmur of laughter and clinking glasses filled the room.
Danica shifted her gaze to the window, where the first snow of the year had begun to fall, tiny flakes drifting down gently, coating the street outside in a delicate layer of white. She spotted Marlene McKinnon and Mary Macdonald emerging from Honeydukes, their arms loaded with a variety of festive Yule sweets. They laughed as they sat down on the curb, eagerly sorting through their stash.
But her gaze drifted back to her cup, and she forced a small smile, pulling herself back into the present.
Danica traced her finger around the rim of her teacup, casting about for something to break the silence. "So... haven't seen you in Herbology this year," she remarked, forcing a casual tone. Narcissa had always loved Herbology; she used to light up at the mention of a new species or potion ingredient. But this year, she'd been noticeably absent.
Narcissa's lips quirked into a faint, distant smile. "I'm not taking it," she replied.
Danica hesitated, glancing down at her tea before meeting Narcissa's eyes. "Yeah," she murmured, nodding. "I figured." She took a slow sip, feeling the warmth against her tongue. It was hard not to feel that the Narcissa she'd known—the one with hands smudged in soil, who could lecture for hours about magical fungi—was slipping away, replaced by a polished version that always seemed perfectly composed by Lucius's side.
"Lucius thought it wasn't..." Narcissa trailed off, her gaze dropping to her cup as she brushed a perfectly manicured finger around its edge. "He thought it wasn't exactly fitting for a Black to be digging around in dirt." She chuckled lightly, though there was little humor in it. "So I'm focusing more on subjects that will be... useful."