NEMESIS || Draco Malfoy

33

It was a great wave of relief that had washed over me after that day, one of the calmest Sunday's I've probably ever had. I had walked around with a smile on my face, a certain lightness in my steps and my mind filled with prospects of what was about to come.

Now, on Wednesday — and with more than a week until the full moon — I still felt that way, which is the exact reason why I slipped into the seat next to Malfoy with a victorious smile on my lips.

Previously tapping the feather of his quill against the wooden desk, his eyes snapped onto me with a slight furrow in his brows as he halted in his motion. Expectantly, he raised a brow, a little unsure of what to think about me on Blaise's seat.

"Blaise just couldn't stand you any longer," I shrugged, a wicked smile on my lips as his eyes darted over to my usual seat to find the brunette happily chatting to Pansy.

"What if I can't stand you?" He shot back, annoyance lacing his tone as he picked up his previously stilled motion again, the quill between his fingers tapping against the wood.

"Oh, come on—" I rolled my eyes sarcastically. "You've had your fun, haven't you? It's only fair I have mine," I explained lowly, leaning forward to scoot my own chair closer to his. His expression clueless, I sighed. "No need to act stupid; I know what you're doing, Malfoy— or am I supposed to believe you're normally as touchy-feely as you've been for the past week?"

He simply scoffed, my hand suddenly on his thigh — similarly to how his had been on mine — getting the air supposed to escape his mouth stuck in his throat, instead.

"What?" I asked innocently, eyes batting open as my thumb rubbed small circles on his leg, slowly making its way upwards. His hand forcefully holding mine in its place, head turned towards me and eyes mere inches away, a cruel smile played on my lips.

I could feel his minty breath fanning against the tip of my nose, watching his brows twitch in irritation and his nose scrunched up in a similar manner. Swallowing thickly, his lips parted to say something.

Though, both of our heads snapped towards the front of the class as McGonagall's voice beamed through the room before he had a chance to say anything.

With a wink, I leaned back in my seat, crossed one leg over the other and made sure the black skirt rode up my thigh just slightly; His eyes following my hand as it went to inch the hem of it up higher.

I felt his eyes linger on my skin, letting them do so for a few seconds before tutting in disapproval. "Malfoy," I said, shaking my head lightly with my eyes still on McGonagall. "You're not going to be the one giving in, are you?"

His eyes diverted towards the front of the class with a low grunt as he shifted in his seat. Nose scrunching upwards, small wrinkles forming on his skin, his hands ran over his face once with a loud exhale.

I smiled.

Without a word, McGonagall waved her wand in the air with a simple motion, filled teacups rising from behind her desk before they handed themselves out— one on each desk.

"As promised, after the essay on how to turn teacups into gerbils due last week—" Her eyes fell on Potter to my right as she gave him and his ginger friend a stern glare —"you'll get the chance to actually perform the spell today. Each pair has a teacup in front of them."

It was hard for me not to release an annoyed sigh at the prospect of having to work with the blond rather than just rile him up for the next ninety minutes. Though, if he knew that, he'd take just as much advantage of the situation as I would, if I were him. "If you did the assignment correctly, you know what to do. If you didn't, good luck."

Once more, her eyes squinted over the frame of her small glasses to look at the Gryffindor-boy, and I suppressed a humorous laugh.

"Might want to keep your attention on this instead of four-eyes over there," Malfoy scoffed, pulling the cup closer towards him. My eyes fluttering in his direction, they rolled.

"No need to get jealous over it," I teased, a singular laugh escaping my lips at the scowl forming on his face.

"Yeah, right." He shook his head quickly, blond hair falling into his face before straightening his back and pulling out his wand. I mirrored his gesture, picking up my essay simultaneously.

I flipped through the few pieces of parchment, scanning the pages of my assignment to find the ones that talked about how to perform it.

As Malfoy did the same, he opted to break the comfortable silence lingering between us. "You know," He said, eyes still on his own pages before him. "Usually, when you're in a chipper mood, I just assume it's because you got laid—"

"And you think about that a lot, do you?" I wondered, amusement lacing my voice as my brows rose. Placing the parchment on my desk, I tilted my head as I looked at him.

Malfoy still made a point out of not doing so, eyes steadily on his assignment— maybe he was just a slow reader. He ignored my words as he went on.

"But Alire can't possibly make you feel that good." There was a condescending tone in his voice, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he tried to suppress a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "You have no idea what—" I began, though he quickly cut me off, two words all it took for my lips to part in silence, unsure of what to say.

"I can." His eyes batted open to meet mine, a storm of grey meeting baby blue.

Trying my best not to let his words faze me — ignoring the heat running up my neck and keeping my mind from going places it shouldn't — I scoffed.

"Can you?" I asked with a brow raised, and the smirk on his face deepened before he hummed in agreement, diverting his eyes and finally ridding himself of the parchment in his hands.

"You don't think so?" Leisurely leaning back in his seat, his head cocked in my direction with a challenging smile gracing lips and complimenting his sharp features oddly well.

"I guess we'll never know, will we?" was all I said, turning my attention onto the teacup on the desk before us. Wanting to pull it back towards the middle of it, he was quicker.

With a hum that was barely audible, the mockery in his tone prominent, the spell for the transfiguration slipped past his lips effortlessly. The cup turning into a gerbil within seconds.

Accomplished, he leaned back into his seat with a mere glance my way. "Yeah," He said. "I guess we'll never know."

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