Draco headed for the Great Hall. He couldn't wait to see the faces at the Gryffindor table with their princess so disgraced. As for apologising, how could the Headmaster force him to when he was too busy controlling his romance with Professor Evans?
James Potter owed him. He could disinherit his children and have an heir with someone else. Although the blonde considered taking Harley as a concubine, it wouldn't make any sense now, apart from annoying his cousin. He debated whether it was worth it. He decided it wasn't.
He walked through the doors, chin held high. The heads of every table turned in his direction. He basked in their gaze, walking with an impeccable poise worthy of his position as heir.
He took a seat at the Slytherin table, overlooking the other tables.
His eyes focused on the Ravenclaw table, searching for his cousin's black hair. He found it easily. Altair stood out slightly. Draco looked at Harley to Altair's left and Lavender to his right.
The Potter girl seemed indifferent, next to her was her sister Azalea and Granger a little further back. The Muggleborn girl looked like she was about to turn into a tomato. But she held herself together, supporting her friend.
'Why does she look so happy?' he wondered. Potter's head was on Altair's shoulder as he talked to Lavender, who fed him small bites from time to time.
"If you keep squeezing the cutlery like that, you'll break it," he heard a small voice to His right. His fiancée, Lyra LeStrange. Draco was about to reply. "He's looking this way," Draco turned his eyes back to the Ravenclaw table.
Bang!
The blond boy's head hit the table hard. He cupped his hands over his ears, breathing heavily.
"What happened?" a cold, distant voice asked him.
"Our fiancé is tired, Greengrass," Lyra answered for him.
'Tired?' Malfoy had been sleeping like a baby.
"I studied... Potions until late," he said as he sat up.
His eyes darted away from the Eagle table.
'What did Altair do?' he wondered, feeling his heart pound. He wanted to run away.
His cousin's purple eyes appeared with each blink.
He began to serve himself with shaking hands.
He could feel the stares around him, focused on his outburst. One particularly strong one right at his temple. He knew whose it was. But he didn't want to look in that direction again.
He ate his breakfast in silence. Lyra and Daphne chatted among themselves, oblivious to the drama in their fiancé's head. They didn't care enough. They simply maintained their decorum as ladies worthy of their position.
The food tasted of nothing, like chewing gum after hours. He forced himself to swallow every bite; he couldn't show fear in public. The status of his house was not something to be taken lightly.
'What if I'm imagining it?' he thought. He gathered his courage.
His eyes met Altair's for a brief moment.
Two precious gems, like amethysts, looked at him with hatred. Draco choked on his bite as he searched for a glass of water.
"Here," Lyra called, holding his chin as she brought him a glass of cranberry juice. Draco drank, resisting the urge to spit it out. He looked into Lyra's eyes, whose grey ones looked at him with disdain. "I'm sorry," she apologised, opening her eyes slightly without changing her expression. "I forgot you hate cranberry juice," Draco gritted his teeth.
The girl ignored him as she went back to talking to Daphne about her Charms homework.
The girl had always been cold but respectful towards him. Lately, though, Draco thought he noticed more and more signs of disrespect towards him. They were small at first, like not answering him right away, but they gradually escalated.
"You have nothing to say about your brother and Harley," he asked, his eyes fixed on her.
"My brother is in the process of forming a coven. It's not surprising, though a little vulgar, that they would do such... things," she replied calmly, showing neither affection nor contempt for her brother.
"Do you think he can form a coven?" he asked mockingly. 'A little more strength won't make it possible,' he thought, ignoring the chill that ran through his bones as he looked into his eyes.
"About 30,000 Evans."
"UL," Draco interrupted Daphne. He would rather see himself dead than give a Muggle's born that credit. It was probably created by the Headmaster, he just gave it to her because he was fucking her," he said, his voice louder than before. A hush fell over the large dining hall. He glanced over to the teachers' table where the red-haired teacher looked at him with a raised eyebrow before returning to her meal.
The blonde's ego was beginning to hurt from being ignored.
"What are you talking about?" a lowly Slytherin asked him.
"You only have to look into Azalea Potter's eyes to know that the Headmaster and Professor Evans were having an affair," he said carelessly. His eyes met those of the teacher, who frowned in return. "It's not surprising that Harley has such instincts. Being a bastard," he said, looking into the teacher's eyes, who seemed to be reacting to her daughter being the centre of attention.
Minerva placed a hand on Lily to calm her down, but Draco still broke out in a cold sweat just from her gaze.
Everyone in the common room looked at him like he was an idiot.
"Draco, read," Lyra handed him a newspaper as she stood up and left the Great Hall. Daphne walked behind her.
Confused, the blond boy began to read. Each word made his chest sink deeper and deeper. In the end, he couldn't lift his head from the shame he felt.
Embarrassed, the boy stood up and walked towards the exit. His entrance with his head held high was now an exit in shame.
In his mind he began to insult the Headmaster, Potter, Professor Evans and Altair in every possible way. He looked at the Eagles table with hatred. His cousin's eyes were still on him.
Like the previous two times, he looked away.
Thud! He fell on his ass. Looking up, he saw one of the targets of his curses.
"Headmaster," he said through clenched teeth.
"Well, we said you would make a public apology for the incident," he said with agility. No pupil wondered why he entered through the student's entrance and not the one behind the teachers' table. The old man began to walk towards the podium. "Now," the eyes of the Great Hall turned to him. "In the last few hours. Intimate material about a student of this institution has been leaked. Hogwarts is a place where such actions, which violate the privacy of others, will not be tolerated." Draco watched as Harley shamelessly raised his hand, thumb up. "The person responsible has been found. He will be punished with detention with Ms. Evans. He is remorseful and wishes to apologise publicly." Draco got up from the ground. He smoothed his clothes and tried to speak.
"I..." He wanted to curse everyone. He wanted to scream that it wasn't his fault, to deny responsibility. But he couldn't. This was about his family. But the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. His throat was dry and he could only stammer.
"Draco," he heard his sister's voice, she was late for breakfast. Cassiopeia looked as beautiful as ever, a female version of him. She was the person Draco loved most in the world.
She didn't stop at his side, but she gave him courage.
He cleared his throat as he watched her walk over to the Ravenclaw table. He took something out of his schoolbag and handed it to Altair. The whole Great Hall held its breath. The girl smiled at her cousin as she started to leave.
Lavender stopped her, pulling her back and forcing her to sit between her and Altair.
Draco expected protests from his sister, but instead she just looked at him pitifully before taking her seat.
The blond boy felt tears trickle down his cheeks before he ran out of the Great Hall. He didn't want to imagine what Altair had done to his sister.
Albus Dumbledore watched him go in silence. Perhaps it was cruel of him to call him out in front of everyone; the boy was just another pawn in the game.
But to Albus, losing the game meant that his family would be hurt.
If he were just an old man with no family ties, he might have tried to reason with the boy, but his family was undoubtedly his priority.
"Let's eat!" He broke the silence in the hall with a clap of his hands. Everyone began to cut their food in silence.
Albus took his seat, imagining that some of his colleagues would disapprove of his words.
"That... was too much."
"Too much? They were after my granddaughter, Minerva," he said simply as he began to eat his breakfast.