Bad Decisions

Ever Thought of Calling When You've had a Few?

Chapter 6 - Veritaserum
(I will eventually put these in order)

Of all the witches in the world, Sebastian had fallen too hard for the singular one who would make him envious of Garreth fucking Weasley.

Ella trailed behind him; he didn't wait on her. Didn't want to even look at her. Not only because of the obvious thorn in his side, but he hadn't seen her in anything but their school uniform since fifth year, and things had changed since then.

Trousers looked different on her now, and it was a bit much to swallow he'd be stuck with that the entire journey. "Have you ever even been in a charmed tent, Malfoy?"

"Once."

"And you call me pompous." He snorted. Of course, little-miss-Malfoy-money hadn't spent the kind of time he and Anne had in charmed tents. Exploration was far beneath her family. But his had loved it, back when his was still whole anyway.

"My lack of charmed tent experience hardly makes me pompous."

"No?"

"Did you want to do this alone? I can go help Ominis instead." Her sarcasm used to be so biting. Sebastian wondered what had happened to it. There was some, but it was barely there. Like she'd rolled it up and tucked it away.

He turned to look at her. Bad idea. Shouldn't have looked at her. Weasley was so far beneath her. The only use she should have for him was to throw him in a puddle and walk across him. "You? Go question the townspeople? Best leave Ominis to the public relations."

He turned away just about as promptly as he could. This was not at all going to work. At this rate, he'd be better off going to help Ominis.

"What is wrong with you now?"

He could hear the annoyance growing in her voice. "Oh, it's nothing." He shot back. It was Weasley. Like he hadn't spent nearly the entirety of fifth year kicking him off of her, with his damn potions that never worked and stupid red hair. Every time Sebastian turned around in fifth year, Weasley had something else for Ella to go do with him. And every single time, Sebastian told her Weasley fancied her, she'd roll her eyes and say he must have been mistaken.

Quite mistaken, indeed.

"Could have fooled me." She said it with such a tone that he knew she rolled her eyes. Like she had any right to be upset.

Next she was going to proclaim she'd fallen for fucking Prewitt, too. Just to kick him while he was already down. "You've just cost me twenty galleons to Ominis is all." Ominis would never collect on that, but it was the principle of the matter. Sebastian had been so sure that she'd never fall into Weasley's clutches.

"What?"

He didn't look at her. He was not risking the slipped heartbeats again.

"For what? The robe? I tried to give it back."

"No, not the robe, Malfoy." He knew Ella was dense, but she wasn't that damn dense. "Weasley. Really?"

"You bet on me dating him?"

"I bet on you not dating him."

"Why in Merlin's name—"

"I can't think of a single redeeming quality that sod has. His entire personality is Quidditch and potions. Neither of which you enjoy, mind you." Hated. She hated both of them. He'd never seen her look at a cauldron with anything but disdain and, unless something drastic had changed, she thought Quidditch was the worst waste of time. She used to laugh at the broken arms and say they deserved it for playing a dangerous game.