Venom & Virtue

chapter 12

Much to my surprise, another paper crane arrived three days later.

At first, I had considered burning it into a cinder right in front of everyone, simply to prove a point.

But then I had gotten curious; what he might say, how he would treat me after what had happened.

And so, I made the executive, and perhaps foolish decision, to attend the tutoring session that had been proposed.

That's how I found myself sitting at the usual table in the library, 10 minutes early on purpose, waiting for the moody bastard.

After a restless night, spawned from overthinking and my throbbing anxieties, I'd concluded that I would at least beat him to the table.

It was a power-play in a sense, some small way to have something over him. To force him to arrive on my territory for once, rather than his.

That had been the one good thing about failing to get sleep the previous night: I had reached my third character conclusion about Draco Malfoy.

He was someone that relied heavily on the predictability of people; trusting them to follow a pattern of behaviour and expectations.

It was how he always seemed to be one step ahead, as if he had concocted the plan, run through the exact conversation, many times before.

He'd fashioned the skill into a sharp point, knowing how to use it against you in cases of emergency.

But more than anything else, it was about control. He seemed to have an obsession with the concept, whether he realised it or not,

Which ensured that this wasn't a battle I would win by brute force, but by manipulation, unpredictability, both of action and character.

So, as he entered the library doors five minutes later, I readied myself to put the theory to the test.

He didn't notice me until he reached the table, a significant flicker of incredulity rolling across his face upon the realisation that I had beaten him here.

But it disappeared just as quickly, washed away like mud.

He sat himself down slowly, getting comfortable in his seat before speaking.

"Someone is eager today," he said it in a light tone, almost teasing, but I knew better.

It was a way to taunt me, to pull my first thread loose.

I ignored him entirely, pulling his book from my bag and handing it across the table, before turning to a fresh page in my notebook.

I dipped my quill into the ink pot slowly, as if I were entirely unbothered by the circumstances of my company. Then, I pressed it into the paper, beginning to write the date, neat and meticulous.

"Are we not going to talk today? That might make it awfully difficult to teach."

I paused my writing, speaking for a moment, "what would you like to talk about exactly? Your depraved account of me, or your unnecessary treatment of Adrian? Or perhaps even the binds you place over your sister?"

"None of the suggested topics are of interest to me," he waved his hand carelessly in the air.

I put my quill down, looking up to meet his gaze.

"No, I suppose they aren't. But we are going to talk about them anyway."

He sighed, "very well. For the first, it was merely an observation, although you appear so incensed over it that it makes me think I couldn't have been more accurate."