𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

The Apple

Lying in my normal spot, I held a book in my hands. I laid on my stomach today, my feet in the air. I've noticed that changing positions and moving helped me stay focused on the book I was reading, and stopped me from day dreaming as much.
Taking a slight mental break from reading, I look up from my book. I recalled over the weekend when Slughorn came up to me inviting me to his dinner party. I hadn't told Draco yet, being too busy. Deciding I was bored and needed a break I bring it up.
I get up, now sitting on the desk, "you know, at the Three Broomsticks Professor Slughorn came up to me and invited me to his dinner party this Friday," I searched for his eyes, trying to read his expression.
He closed his book, sitting it on his knee. He sat in his normal chair, one ankle over his knee, "oh really?"
I nod.
"I've heard he tries to get close to those he feel are from powerful families, he tries to collect them," he stands from his chair, "but you going to that dinner may be of use to us."
He walks over to me, now standing in front of me. I look up at him, "how?" I cross my arms in opposition.
     He slides his hands in his pockets, "I don't know if you'll be up for it."
     I crinkle my brows, "I'm sure I will be, just tell me this plan you have, Draco." I roll my eyes.
     He huffs a laugh, "my plan is you poison some of Slughorn's meade while you're in his office," his tone and expression became serious, "Dumbledore and Slughorn are old friends and I figure there's a very good chance they catch up over a drink."
     I tilt my head to the side, thinking over the plan. I don't say anything as I try to find a flaw, maybe something that would lead it back to me. I come up with to nothing.
     Draco retrieves a hand from his pocket and lifts it to my chin. His index pulled under while his thumb on top, "are you up for it?" His voice went low and I couldn't help but let my mind wonder with the way he looked at me.
     I swallow, then I nod my head, confirming.
     He drops his hand, "good. I'll take care of making some poison, something lethal. I'll get it to you by Friday."

I tense my muscles, trying to stay awake. My last class of the day felt longer than usual, Professor Binns talking almost the entire class now. History of Magic has proven to be a boring class, so my sleepiness didn't help my attention span.
"Now, when Salazar Slytherin-" I couldn't stay focused. I could barely keep my eyes open, much less concentrate. I rest my head in my hand, trying to keep looking at the Professor, who was transparent.
I would feel more guilty about not paying attention except she had been lecturing all class about the same subject. Besides, I'd already heard of everything she has mentioned. He continued on, rambling about his life. He was at least a hundred years old, living now only as a ghost.
Professor Binns sighs, look over at the clock in the wall, "you are dismissed."
As soon as the words escaped his mouth I shot up from my seat, grabbing my bag. I didn't get anything out from bag this class so I didn't have to collect my things.
Walking out of the classroom, I had a hard time figuring out if I was dreaming or awake, "Draco? What are you doing?"
The boy leaned up against the stone wall, his hands in his pockets. Upon my arrival he pushed off the wall, "I thought I should walk you to quidditch practice, considering Davies approach on you earlier," he takes a step closer, "I thought it'd make an impression."
Before I respond, he slips his hand underneath the strap of my satchel, taking it off, "that'd be great actually."
He slides the strap onto his shoulder. We begin walking, his hand going to my back almost instantly. I don't know why his always been so quick to make contact with me, but I wasn't against. Of course it looked great to other students, making it clear of our—fake—relationship, but I also enjoyed it more then I should.
     Becoming more honest with myself, I've started to day dream about Draco during classes, especially sleep inducing classes such as History of Magic. It's not something I'm proud of, but I needed to be honest with myself. Of course there was some part of me that has feelings for Draco, we've been pretending to be in a relationship. How could I not?
     We found ourselves walking on a familiar dirt path out to the quidditch field. The wild hit me, making me clutch my arms. The thin material of my button up didn't do much to keep wind out, but at last today I didn't wear a blazer or sweater.
     Before I realized it was happening, Draco slid his hand underneath my shirt, his hand on my bare back. The back of my shirt must've came untucked, making it so easy.
     "You're freezing," Draco announced, pulling his hand from my back. Now holding my satchel in his hand, he took off his suit jacket.
     Catching on, I tried to stop him, "no, you don't have to do that Draco-" but it was too late. He laid the blaze over my shoulders, sliding the satchel back on, "you know, you don't have to do any of this."
     I look down at my feet. Recently he's been so gentlemanly, and it wasn't necessary. As much as I enjoyed it, it didn't feel right. This was all a lie. We were barely in public right now, so there was no point in pretending.
     I hear him exhale, "Jade, we're doing this to keep others from being suspicious-"
     I interject, "well it's only going to hurt me in the end." I regretted my words as soon as I spoke.
     Draco stops walking, "what?"
     His brows creased together. His lips part, making his breaths visual from the cold.
     I turned to face him, "look Draco, I'm immature. I can't handle you treating me like this—doing these things for me. A small part of me feels like this is real, and this is all going to hurt me when it stops. When we don't have to pretend anymore, when we are just friends in private and around everybody else." I look up at him, trying to read his expression.
    He reaches a hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose, "aren't you the one who wanted this? You have to realize that this is what's best, it's the best way to keep people from suspecting anything." His hand falls back to his side.
     I couldn't look at him, blood rushing to my cheeks, "you're right, I'm sorry. I'm being stupid, pretend I never said any of that." I turn from him continuing forward. Although the breeze still blew, I felt hot, like I was on fire.
     It only took him a moment to continue beside me. The rest of the walk down to the quidditch field we both fell silent, only the sound of the blowing wind could be heard. The whistle of the could be heard, which is what I drawled my attention to as we walked.
     I was glad I could move on from the tension when we reached the stone wall, right outside the locker room. I turned to Draco—not letting my eyes meet Draco's. I quickly pull off his jacket, "thank you, for walking me," I extend my arm holding the jacket.
     He takes it, giving me my satchel, "I'll be here when you're done."
     My eyes find his, surprised. I didn't say anything though, I felt like I'd spoken entirely too much. I slipped my satchel over my shoulder, nodding.