Untitled Part 1

45

An irritated groan escaped Harry's mouth as he sensed the familiar grasp around his neck. He didn't even have to open his eyes since he already knew who it was.

"So that's what you're doing when you're supposed to be in class, huh? Making friends with the new guy?" Spat Malfoy, both of his eyebrows furrowed as he firmed his grip.

The brown-haired boy beneath him struggled to speak at first. He finally opened his eyes, authorizing his gaze to meet with the blonde's.
"What do you mean?" He mumbled, trying his best to break free from Draco's grasp, but Malfoy only tightened his palm along the flesh even more. Once Harry finally caught on to how Draco had figured that out, he opened his mouth to protest.

"Were you bloody stalking us?" Questioned Harry—he was now a slight more capable of talking. "And yes, I was. He doesn't seem so bad, now does he?"

To Potter's astonishment, his words hung free in the air since Draco left no response whatsoever. He only fixed his glare more firmly then ever, his eyes filled with a mixture of outrage and wrath, in which Harry could sense the blonde's blood boil from inside him.

"What? He told me you guys are friends! Why is it s-"

"Friends? Friends? The guy literally just fucking got here, and I know trouble the second it steps in. Perhaps Parkinson and Zabini were dumb enough to play nice and befriend him but I know for a fact that I won't, and neither will you."

"Why?! You don't even kn-"

"Because I fucking said so." Growled Malfoy. By the look on his face it seemed like he really believed that Lucien is bad news, but Harry won't have it that way.

"First of all," He muttered, and to Draco's surprise, he broke free of his grasp. "Get off me, we're late to class and I'm not looking forward to a detention because of you." Harry breathed out as he jumped off of the wall and pointed his index finger at the blonde's face. "Second of all, you don't tell me what I can and can't do."

His finger was still levitated right in front of Malfoy's face, who of course, was looking down at the furious boy with a grin—and that made Harry even more exasperated as a gasp made it's way out of his mouth.

Turns out Draco had firmly held the boy's finger, in attempt to lower it down, but in fact he only pulled him closer.

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that." He whispered in arrogance. His breath was along the shorter boy's lips, who unwillingly felt a ray of shivers run down his spine, but he managed to keep his glare fixed onto the blonde with signs of rage and frustration.

And with that, Draco let go, his smirk never fading away from his face as he placed his left hand in the pocket of his trousers and walked away, leaving Harry still standing there not moving a muscle. Potter was mad.
Irritated with Malfoy and himself.
Who does he think he is? Telling me who I can and can't be friends with?
Bloody moron.

His outraging thoughts of the Slytherin were cut short when he noticed that Draco had stopped halfway in his track. Turning his heels around, he rose his two brows at Harry, who eyed him without uttering a word.

"I thought you didn't wanna' be late?" He spoke in a mocking tone, smirking as he watched Harry visibly roll his eyes and walk closer, brushing past him as he followed.

***

"Okay everyone, now it's time to t-" The trembling yet squeaky voice of Professor Sybill was cut off as the two boys, Draco and Harry, barged in about thirty minutes late into Divination class.