The Malfoy Project

𝟓𝟖 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

     "What took you so long?"

     A flash of yellow. The chair across me scraped. "Ains, the strangest thing just happened," said Cedric urgently, his chest pressed against the table top as he leaned in closer.

     "You passed your Arithmancy quiz?"

     "No, weirder. Draco Malfoy just talked to me."

     I stifled a disbelieving giggle. "I'm serious!" he insisted. "We just walked back from the pitch together."

     "What did he say?" I asked, already losing interest.

     "He asked me about the Tournament. Well, technically I asked him first, but only to be polite! But then he asked me if I was gonna' enter, and we just started... talking."

     "Huh." I dipped my quill into the inkwell and started to copy down the recipe for The Draught of Peace. "I wonder what he wants."

     "What do you mean?"

     "Ced, there are only two reasons Draco Malfoy speaks to anyone. He's either hurling a slur at you, or he wants something."

     "What could Draco Malfoy possibly want with me?"

     My head swivelled between the book and parchment. "To kill you, probably," I said in dead-pan. "Or-r-r, maybe he secretly has a massive crush on you and wants to shag your brains out."

     A laugh exploded out of Cedric before he remembered we were in a library and muffled himself with his sleeve, before Madam Pince could come tottering around. "Honestly, Ains, you say the strangest things sometimes. Speaking of crushes... Have you decided who you'll go to the Ball with?"

     "Well, Graham Montague asked me."

     "What, already?" Cedric's eye's narrowed. "He seriously doesn't waste any time, does he."

     I raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

     "The Ball's not for another month yet. And I thought we both agreed he's a bit of a twat."

     "No, you said he was a twat. I think he's sweet. He gave me a packet of crystallised pineapples two days ago, said he knew it was my favourite."

     "That's cheating!" Cedric exclaimed vehemently. "Everybody in school knows it's your favourite! What... what did you say?"

     "I said no, obviously. I'm going with you!"

     "Oh."

     "'Oh' what? We are going together, right?"

     He drew back from the table, his fingers drumming on the polished wood nervously. Dumdumdum. Dumdumdum. "Well, it's just that I— er— you know, you and I go everywhere together," he stammered. "I thought... maybe it'd be nice to go with other people, you know? For a change."

     I froze, only for a split second. Dumdumdum. Dumdumdum. "You're right," I said, wiping all emotion from my face. "It'll be good for me to start hanging out with people from my year, anyway."

     Cedric's lips broke into a relieved smile. "Don't worry, I'll save a dance for you."

     "You'd better."

     Glad that he had said all he wanted to, and that what was supposed to be a difficult conversation had gone swimmingly, Cedric decided we could finally move on to the next topic on the agenda: "How did the talk with McGonagall go?"