Draco rubbed the sleep from his eyes and started to sit up—then froze.
Something warm and soft was curled against his chest.
His neck turned stiffly to the side. There were Estelle's misty, deer-like eyes blinking up at him, still heavy with dreams. Her small arms were wrapped tightly around his waist like a sleepy octopus.
When he didn't say anything, she simply snuggled closer, just the way she used to burrow into Mammon's fur every morning. The feeling of bare skin against skin—something Mammon's fluffy coat had never given her—made her hum contentedly and narrow her eyes in pure bliss.
She looked like a cat who had no intention of leaving the bed.
A faint, sweet scent of roses drifted from her hair. Narcissa had chosen rose-scented shower gel just for her.
*No, no, what am I even thinking—*
"St-Stelle…" Draco's whole body went rigid, as if someone had cast Petrificus Totalus. The words scraped out of his throat. "Quick… let go of me."
Estelle frowned, clearly not ready to give up her morning cuddles. "But Brother… Stelle wants to lie here a little longer," she mumbled, lips pushed out in the cutest pout.
Draco hadn't shared a bed with his mother since he was three—Lucius's strict idea of "raising a proper heir." This was the first time since he'd decided he was "grown up" that anyone had held him like this.
And it was a girl.
The same pretty girl who had followed him through Dragon Island in his dreams last night.
"No," he managed, trying to sound firm even while his heart hammered. "You were supposed to sleep in your own room last night. And it's already half past seven. We need to get up for breakfast with Mum and Dad."
He rattled the words out in one breathless rush and felt rather proud of himself. *Very calm. Very Malfoy.*
Estelle wilted the instant she heard "Mum and Dad." Her arms loosened.
"Alright…" she whispered.
Draco had barely started to relax when he felt something soft and warm brush his cheek.
His eyes flew wide.
Estelle pulled back, smiling with her eyes curved into happy crescents. "Brother, now it's your turn."
"Wh-what…"
When he didn't move, her expression shifted—confusion, then disappointment, then a tiny flicker of sadness. She puffed her cheeks and rolled over, turning her back to him.
"When Daddy was still here, he used to kiss me like that every morning," she said quietly. "He called it a good-morning kiss… But then he went into the portrait frame, and no one ever gave Stelle one again. It's okay if you don't want to, Brother…"
"Smack."
Estelle's fingers flew to her cheek, eyes round with surprise. She rolled back over just in time to see Draco scrambling off the bed, head down, pretending to hunt for his slippers.
"Get up quickly, Stelle. We don't want to keep Mum and Dad waiting."
His voice was perfectly steady, as if the kiss had never happened.
Estelle's lips curved in a secret little smile. The skin-hunger that had been aching inside her all night felt softer now, gentler. She nodded happily. "Okay~"
…
Back in her own room, Estelle changed into the dark-red everyday dress Narcissa had laid out for her. Even though it was meant for ordinary days, Narcissa clearly couldn't resist dressing her like a tiny princess. The knee-length dress was simple enough for Estelle to manage on her own, yet the fabric, the delicate embroidery, and the perfect cut made it every bit as elegant as yesterday's silver-and-red gown.
When Draco took her hand to walk downstairs, the portraits along the corridor immediately burst into life.
"Oh~ Look how perfectly matched they are!"
"So this is the Belling heir—no wonder she's already such a beauty."
"Is Lucius planning to betroth little Dragon to the Belling girl? Excellent! I heartily approve!"
"Heavens, she looks like a living doll…"
"But Bellings never marry outsiders. I'll have to corner Lucius and ask him about this!"
"Why is little Dragon blushing? Hahaha, look at the boy!"
Draco shot a quick glance at Estelle. She seemed completely unbothered, so he hissed at the nearest portrait, "Grandfather, please stop! She's just my sister!"
Abraxas Malfoy—golden-haired and still strikingly handsome in his frame—chuckled and leaned forward with a mischievous wink. "Oh, of course, Draco. I do hope you always remember she's just your sister."
Draco didn't quite understand the teasing tone, but something about it felt off. He tightened his grip on Estelle's hand and walked faster, pulling her out of the portrait-lined corridor.
"Stelle, they were only joking," he said, clearing his throat. "Don't mind them."
Estelle shook her head with a small smile. The old portraits reminded her of Grandma Shirley and the others back home—loud, nosy, but harmless.
Lucius and Narcissa hadn't arrived yet, so the long dining table held only the two children and a bustling Dobby. As expected from an ancient pure-blood house, breakfast was lavish: fluffy omelettes, golden waffles, roasted tomatoes with feta, smoked chicken salad, creamy oatmeal… The house-elf only needed to twitch a finger for each plate to glide smoothly into place.
"By the way, Stelle," Draco said suddenly, remembering the very important lecture he'd rehearsed in his head. He turned to her with a serious expression. "In the future… you can't just sleep in a boy's room without any precautions. It's very unsafe. Do you understand?"
Estelle tilted her head, genuinely confused. "Why?"
She had loved snuggling with her platinum jewel.
Draco faltered. After a long moment of thinking, he offered the only example he could come up with: "Because boys and girls are different. What if… what if you get bullied later?"
"Bullied?" Estelle's eyes widened.
Draco nodded solemnly. "Yes. Just like… how Dad often bullies Mum!"