Babygirl (SEQUEL to Fuckboy - Draco Malfoy)

8. bloodsucker.

"Nah, mate, I'm telling you. She wants me."

"Theo, she's the fucking Divination Professor."

"Not between the sheets, she's not."

"Oh yeah, okay—because you've seen her sheets."

"The 'Sight' works in mysterious ways, my friend. . . . Where the fuck have you been all night?"

"Busy," Draco managed to say. He didn't even look over at Theo, who was currently crawling into his bed sloppily, two four-posters down. Draco stared up at the ceiling of his own bed, laid out on his back with his hands behind his head.

Blaise went to bed next. His bed was right next to Draco's, which was convenient over the past seven years because it was easy to talk about shit in the middle of the night when Zabini slept so close by.

But Draco didn't look over at him, either. It was like he had looked a basilisk in the eyes. He was petrified, frozen on his bed.

"Oi," Blaise whispered through the darkened dormitory, keeping his voice low because both Crabbe and Goyle were asleep and Theo was already snoring. "You alright, mate?" he asked his frozen friend.

Draco was alright, he had decided several hours ago. It had taken him that long to process what Evan had said.

Yes, to your proposition.

He was still too stunned to speak—still too bloody shocked to do much of anything. So he just nodded very slightly at Blaise and reached up, closing his curtains.

- - -

Draco,
I assume your first month at the castle has been a success.

Do not forget that your N.E.W.T. examinations will be at the end of the spring term. It would be best to get started on preparations now. Professor Snape has shown interest in private tutoring. I will set up several sessions for you later in the term.

Do well in your studies. Stay away from the Nott boy. We'll be listening for news.

Lucius Malfoy.

Draco looked down at the letter as he sat at breakfast, having just read it over his morning porridge.

He scowled and folded the letter, processing all of the bullshit his father had managed to fit on such a short page.

First of all, why did his father insist on signing his letters Lucius Malfoy? He didn't sign it, 'Love, Father' or even just 'Father.' The motherfucker wrote Lucius Malfoy as if Draco didn't know who the fuck he was.

And aside from that, why did he always address him as if he were sending Draco a business letter—like they were making a deal over properties or some rare Dark Magical artifact he was trying to buy? And why did he say he 'assumed' he was successful? Draco had been far beyond successful so far this term—he thought angrily at the old man—and his success had nothing to do with his grades. And Draco fucking knew that the N.E.W.T.s were that year, as he was not an imbecile.

Furthermore, Draco would rather sell his left testicle than have private lessons with Snape. He always did well in his studies, no thanks to Lucius Malfoy's bitch ass. And Theodore Nott may be a raging lunatic, but Draco would fucking take a Killing Curse for the motherfucker—and his father would be listening for news?! He wouldn't be waiting for Draco to tell him news, he'd be listening in, asking Snape for gossip as his always did?! He'd be asking the greasy little snake to fill him in on Draco's every move and what he was up to, as if the man didn't already watch his every fucking move, constantly sticking that big-ass nose exactly where it didn't belong, when he could really stick it up his own wallered ass!