Hogwarts: Slytherin Kiss

One day in mid-August.

The owl delivered several newspapers to the majestic manor, where the house elves would be responsible for placing them within reach of the owner.

Lucius had not attended a Death Eater meeting for a long time. Now he had magic power but no wand. He had the Death Eater mark but had been kicked out.

The Dark Lord was not kind enough to release Ollivander from the dungeon so that he could make a new wand for his loyal servant.

Lucius lost his precious diary, smashed the prophecy ball, and still had no worries during the more than ten years he wandered in Albania without a human being.

All these are the reasons for the Dark Lord to humiliate the Malfoy family.

Occasionally his right-hand man, Bellatrix Lestrange, is implicated.

Lucius didn't want his wife and son to be branded with that mark, but when he came back from Azkaban, Malfoy was no longer the same Malfoy, and he could no longer protect his family.

Just as he had inherited the Death Eater identity from his father, Abraxas, in his youth, Draco had followed this path.

Forced to embark on this path.

He wanted to make up for the mistakes his father had made in front of the Dark Lord, and wanted Malfoy to return to his old days.

But earlier, Draco was just a child who liked to complain to his father, and he would settle everything for him no matter what.

Lucius never wanted Draco to become a Death Eater.

But surprisingly, Draco did quite well.

This made Lucius very pleased.

Today's new "Daily Prophet" was already at hand. Lucius picked up the newspaper and unfolded it. When he turned to a page, he suddenly stood up with his eyes widened in horror.

In the photos of untrialed Muggle wizards, Lucius actually saw a familiar face.

It was a beautiful girl who had been at the Quidditch World Cup, and best of all, she was holding his son's hand, and Draco was beaming.

Indra Mendesse.

Yes, that's the name.

She's a mudblood.

As the owners of Malfoy Manor, the three of them now want to talk, but they have to hide.

Lucius called Draco to the study at the back of his bedroom, along with Narcissa.

"Look what this is?!" Lucius held his son's shoulders tightly, waved his hand holding the newspaper excitedly in front of him, and said in a low voice, "Indra Mondsese! Qui That girl with you at the Digi World Cup? She's a Mudblood! Don't tell me you don't know."

His gray eyes, which were naturally colder by nature, stared sternly at Draco. As a father, Lucius immediately guessed what his son had done before.

It’s so fascinating!

"Father, I didn't know she was a Mudblood before, and I stopped interacting with her." Draco glanced at the newspaper and said calmly.

He had seen the newspaper before Lucius, and was most worried about Indra's safety because he had lost track of her whereabouts.

The villas in the rue Française were empty, and so was his heart.

Where did she go?

Did you leave him and go back to China?

Because of his concealment, his leaving without saying goodbye, and his 'betrayal'.

That was fine, she would be safe this way, but he felt as if he had tasted something very bitter.

It was so painful that he could not bend the corners of his mouth at all.

Lucius patted his son on the shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief and said, "It's best like this, otherwise the only way to remedy it is to make her 'disappear'. Disappear, you know? That way the Dark Lord won't blame her when he finds out." Your fault..."

Draco's face looked a little pale: "Father, we have no other relationship. It doesn't matter if the Dark Lord knows, but it's best not to let him know."

Narcissa sent Draco out of the study. Her mother's eyes were as obscure and heavy as a black veil, as if she could see through her own thoughts, almost making Draco feel that his cover-up was so unnecessary.

His mother asked him in a voice that only the two of them could hear, "Do you love her?"

"What are you talking about, mom? Of course I don't love her."

Draco said, but the emotion seemed to be struggling out from under those gray-blue eyes.

But Narcissa said nothing more, as if she believed what he said.

……

……

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It's equivalent to a patch or extra, I forgot to write it earlier (...)