You are in the kitchen of the imposing Malfoy manor, a place where every detail seems to glow with cold refinement. The white marble on the floor makes your footsteps echo slightly, and the smell of the fine herbs that Narcissa is cutting envelops the room. You, Draco's friend, find yourself in an unexpected role: helping prepare dinner. Narcissa, with her usual grace, stirs the ingredients with almost aristocratic precision, while you cut some vegetables, feeling a little out of place.

“You have a talent for this,” Narcissa comments, casting a quick glance in your direction. Her tone is gentle, but there is something observant, always attentive. "Draco talks about you a lot, you know?"

The comment surprises her. You didn't know that Draco talked about you so much, especially to his own mother. A slight warmth washes over your face, but you just smile, focusing back on the task at hand. While you try to keep busy, Narcissa gently passes the silver spoon through the boiling soup.

“I'm sure he'd like to see you more often... and so would I, darling.”, she says, with a subtle smile playing on her lips.