(Untitled)

[dray_m]

Place: The Ocean restaurant
Date: August 1st
Time: 12.45

Comments

[theworsesister]

It was a lovely restaurant, and Bellatrix was pleased with Draco's recommendation. Of course, she never doubted that the boy would have impeccable taste. He was of her blood, after all. This was obviously a place of class, where she and her nephew could converse without being gawked at, as they were on the street.

Narcissa had trained the boy well. His manners were excellent, and she barely surpressed a small sound of delight when he pulled out her chair for her. This was the world she belonged in, that she'd missed so much. She had been willing to live in the filthiest hovel, forgo any luxury for the service of her lord--but this world of excellence and decorum was where she had grown up and where her heart lie.

"When one is in hiding, Draco," she surveyed the menu, glancing up at her nephew with eyebrows raised, "one doesn't always have the most reliable mail."

[dray_m]

You stupid idiot, Draco mentally berated himself. Of course she didn't get your mail -- and anyway, she was on the run. Not likely she would reply!

He tried not to look half as embarrassed as he felt and was relieved to note that his cheeks didn't colour furiously, as he had expected them to. Or at least they didn't feel like they had coloured furiously. Turning his head slightly he gestured towards the nearest waiter and smiled almost imperceptibly when they began rushing forwards. Excellent service.

"Forgive me, Aunt Bella," he apologised. "I didn't think ... I was so worried about you. There were rumours that you had been ... disposed of." He waited to see if she would have any reaction.

[theworsesister]

Bellatrix couldn't help but smile at the pink tinge that colored Draco's cheeks. He reminded her so much of Cissy, and his blush brought back memories of the same tell-tale color in her sister's face.

"It's alright, darling, I know you don't mean anything by it." Her expression tightened slightly when he mentioned the reports of her death. She took a sip of water from the glass in front of her. "They tried, Draco, they tried." Nights hiding in the dirt beneath trees, dodging hexes, sprays of blood all that remained of her attackers and sometimes her comrades--she shuddered. Bad times. She forced herself to smile at him, and push those thoughts from her mind. "But we triumph, as we always do."

[dray_m]

Draco did not miss the the slight tightening of his aunt's face. Though they disliked each other, his father and his aunt tended to have the same ... quirks. And Draco had learned as a child to look out for them.

"Of course we triumph, Aunt Bella," he grinned. "There was never any doubt we would, was there? The Blacks have never conceeded victory, if I recall correctly. Which I'm inclined to think I do -- Mother was persistant in making sure I knew all about my family history."

The waiter stopped beside their table. "I'll take a bottle of Château Margaux -- chilled."

"Anything else, sir?" the waiter asked.

"Bring me the soup of the day for starters, please." He nodded at the waiter. "That'll be all for me." He turned and smiled at Bellatrix, a smile that reached his eyes and made them dance slightly. "What would your heart desire, Aunt Bella?"