Chosen || Draco Malfoy

18 - Monthlies

I couldn't find Harry anywhere.

I even asked the Fat Friar where ghosts tended to hang in their spare time, but was met instead with an amused chuckle.

"Why my dear, there is no where else to go. You are either here, or you're not. If a ghost has passed then they have gone forever more. We don't just get to come and go as we please."

It made no sense. Where was Harry then? Perhaps I had just imagined him, after all.

All this searching caused me to turn up late for my first Defence Against the Dark Arts class which was rather unfortunate really as the new professor was a complete bitch.

"Sorry," I panted, sliding into the last empty desk left which was, to my dismay, right next to Draco Malfoy.

"How nice of you to finally grace us with your presence, uh..." Umbridge glanced down at her register, her eyes widening slightly. "Miss Diggory, I presume? Yes, I've heard all about you."

Titters filled the room which Umbridge was quick to quieten. I could feel my face grow hot as Draco snickered beside me. I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead, refusing point blank to give him the satisfaction of reacting to the smirk that was undoubtedly plastered across his lips.

"Yes, miss," I gritted through clenched teeth. "I was held up. Women's problems."

"What, you are fifteen? Sixteen?" Umbridge tutted, clicking her tongue. "Did your mother never prepare you for such events? Surely by now you've got the hang of dealing with our blessed monthly visitor?"

Nervous laughter spread across the classroom. I could feel myself shaking in anger and humiliation but I refused to rise to this bitch's bait.

"No, miss," I said stiffly. "Just an out of the ordinary mishap. It's all sorted now."

Bloody Harry.

"Well, be that as it may, thanks to your tardiness and ineptness at dealing with your monthlies, the entire class has wasted their time learning very little whilst you and I have this tiresome conversation. You will remain behind after class so that I can issue you with one of my very special pink slips to be passed on to your head of house."

Oh for fuck's sake. Why couldn't Voldemort just have fucking killed me? The moron.

"Now," Umbridge continued, addressing the whole class, a sickly sweet smile pulling at her lips. "As I was saying before our little interruption, wands away and quills out, please. I want to hear nothing but the satisfying sound of quills scratching against parchment as you copy down the course aims."

The second her back was turned, a tampon was thrown at my head.

I turned to glare at Draco who was shaking with laughter, his face an unnatural shade of red as he tried to hold it in. On his other side, Pansy was glinting gleefully in my direction, clearly having been the one who had thrown the thoughtful gift.

"Thanks," I snarked, making a point of coolly tucking it into my pocket. "I'll be sure to think of you when I get around to using it."

This threw her. She blinked, turning away, her face falling in disappointment.

"Tut, tut," Umbridge said, turning back around to face us. "Why can't I hear any scratching yet? As soon as you have copied the aims, I should like you to turn to page five of Defensive Magical Theory and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

It was too dull, the words weren't sinking in and I found my mind wandering. A familiar scent tickled at my nose. Glancing sideways, I realised it was Draco's cologne. I hated that I liked it. I hated that it made something stir inside of me. I had to stop myself from edging my chair closer to him just so that I could get more of it.