chapter 5

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"I'll see you at dinner, and don't worry, he'll be fine," Violetta smiled at me one last time before running off to her transfiguration class.

It was Wednesday, just after lunch. The time had come for my first tutoring session.

I steered myself begrudgingly in the direction of the library.

The last 24 hours hadn't helped ease my qualms about the prospect of spending time with Violetta's brother.

She'd reassured me repeatedly that if he acted like an asshole, she'd happily whack him over the head with her broom.

In fact, she seemed almost overly-keen on the idea, insisting that he was due payback for some incident that had occurred in her third year.

However, her enthusiasm for violence hadn't felt particularly encouraging, rather, further confirmation of the possibility of Draco's disregard.

Adrian had once again offered to tutor me at lunch, and I'd very nearly taken him up on it just to avoid the situation.

But one unamused look from Violetta had persuaded me otherwise.

All too soon I arrived at the library, opening the door to slip inside.

It was fairly empty, most students were scheduled for afternoon lessons, and so it wasn't long before I spotted Draco, tucked away in the corner at the back, only just visible beyond the wide bookcase.

I steadied my nerves and approached him, hovering as I reached the edge of the table.

He was wearing his Slytherin robes, their uniform style fitting like a second skin.

From my brief observations, I'd noticed that he skipped between his school clothes and the slick perfectly-tailored suit.

For a moment, I wondered how he got away with wearing the suit at all, but then I couldn't imagine any of the professors would be keen to challenge the steely-faced boy, it was still formal attire after all.

I stood there for a moment, waiting for him to look up and acknowledge me in some way, but he didn't, his attention focused only upon the book in front of him.

I tried to peer over the table to see what he was so engrossed in, but the typography was too small to infer, minuscule and dainty.

"Are you going to stand there gawking all day or do you plan to sit down anytime soon?"

I flinched at his words, sliding quickly into the seat on the other side of the table's corner, making sure to scoot it away a fraction so our knees wouldn't touch.

"I was waiting for an invitation actually, it's polite you know," I placed my bag down on the ground, pulling books and quills from it.

He looked up then, waving his mysterious novel away with a hand as it dispersed into smoke.

He eyed me carefully, drinking me in like water to sand, firm and inquisitive.

I made sure to hold his gaze in return, my stubborn streak not wanting to back down.

It was the first time I'd been so near to him; his eyes appeared lighter close-up, a cool pewter grey as opposed to the dark steel I'd assumed from a distance.

The magic crackling around him was increasingly intense upon proximity, curling across the edges of his form like a sheet.

But I'd expected as much this time, making sure to slam my perception wall into place before the effect could wind me.

"If you're expecting the same honey and rainbows my sister affords, you've come to the wrong place. There will be no invitations from me," he jeered.

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