𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄

𝟏𝟏. 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨.

The grand entrance of the common room burst open in a flurry and forced my attention away from the book in my lap for the first time in over an hour. At first glance, it appeared that it was only Pansy storming her way over to where we were all poised languidly in a semi-circle around the unlit fireplace. Her cheeks were flushed red and I begrudgingly prepared myself to hear all about the new underclassmen giving her lip in the corridor today. 

"What is it this time, Pans?" I asked, flipping to the next page in my assigned text from class.

A pair of clean black dress shoes appeared in front of me, baiting me into breaking my concentration once more. I was about to wave her off with a mumbled 'shoo' when a silent doubletake made me realize that she wasn't nearly as alone as I once thought.

Your face peaked timidly around Parkinson's shoulder, eyes wet and puffy with tears. I slammed my book shut immediately and cast it aside without a care in the world about where it ended up. Sitting just beside me, Blaise's jaw tightened. Theo slept opposite me on a small velvet loveseat that he moved in front of the fireplace just a few minutes prior. An empty flask hung limply from his outstretched hand and Blaise swatted him awake before I could even think to give him the order.

Pansy gently ushered you in front of her, letting her hands rest over your shoulders comfortingly from behind. "Lovey, can you tell Dray what you told me?"

Your breath hitched and I thought my heart was going to explode right then and there. Your eyes were glassy, lashes clumped together under the weight of heavy tears gathering in your waterline. I raised a brow at your silence but you were determined to avoid my gaze, instead using the toe of your shoe to play with the frilled hem of your sock. "What...What does slag mean?"

I felt my body tense suddenly. From across the way, Theo choked with the flask once more half-raised to his lips.

"Where did you hear that?" I asked, ignoring him completely in the hopes that you would follow my lead and do the same. My cold tone did nothing to inspire you into opening up further. Leaning over my knees, I took your hand in mine and started rubbing comforting circles into your palm. "(Y/N), love, did someone call you that?"

Your gaze darted across the marble floor and met mine just as a fat tear rolled down the apple of your cheek. With your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, you nodded as slowly as I thought humanly possible. I nodded along with you, doing everything in my power to encourage more answers. "Tell me who."

"I-I dunno..."

"Tell me who called you that and I promise you'll never have to learn what it means because you won't ever hear it again."

The raw intensity in my bark did little to soothe you and instead of offering up more information, your bottom lip began to wobble pitifully. The only thing I wanted to do just then was to pull you up onto my lap, pet the pretty fallen hair out of your face and kiss away every last teardrop until there was no evidence at all that someone had ever made you feel inferior.