Drago’s Point of view
The kitchen was a battlefield littered with remnants of breakfast. Plates, forks, and pans lay scattered across every surface, tokens of the morning frenzy. My hands moved on autopilot as I wiped down countertops and organized the stacks of dishes. My senses, honed by years of living in shadow, picked up every detail: the sticky scent of maple syrup mingling with crisp bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Beneath it all, a delicate floral fragrance lingered, the faint but unmistakable trace of Rose’s birthday. I couldn’t help but smile—she deserved the best.
Draco leaned against the counter, the weight of his amused smirk filling the room. “Really trying to earn those brownie points with our Luna, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I chuckled, scr
