The Bracelet (Draco Malfoy Fanfiction)

Chapter 13

Hey guys! I am just on the move and cranking out these chapters today! Hope you enjoy!

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Jennifer's POV -

The following day was definitely worse than what I thought it would be. Only the first half hour went as planned.

I wake up to dim lights that make my eyes sting, and remember it's Monday. Another day of classes, and another day of dealing with Malfoy, which will be extremely awkward and terrible. I'm still going to attempt to stick to that 'pretend to hate him' plan.

I slide out of bed and get myself ready in a minimal amount of time. Kelsie must've been getting ready, because she is asleep in front of the mirror. So I head for the great hall alone, my best friends still sound asleep in the dorm.

The great hall is always a pleasant sight to see in the morning. It smells of delicious breakfast foods, and the ceiling imitates the starry sky, which is saturated with pink and orange from the rising sun.

I take a seat at the end of the Slytherin table and lean my book bag against my seat.

By the time I'm on my second waffle and third glass of orange juice, my best friends have both materialized by my side, and are rushing me away to our first class, potions, forever leaving the half eaten food on it's plate.

Potions.

Of course. I have to deal with stupid Malfoy. Butterflies whisk through my stomach at the mention of his name, but I soon remember that I'm supposed to hate him. Boy, this will be a lot tougher than I thought.

He, Blaise, and Goyle are already seated at our back table when we arrive. I take my seat across from Draco and refuse to look at him, although I can see him gazing at me for a moment out of the corner of my eye. If I look into those silver eyes, I will only fall for him more, which I cannot afford to do.

I remind myself that he's only playing with me, and nothing that happened was ever real. But the thought of that makes my heart ache. God, I'm supposed to be hating him! Why is that so difficult? After all, he's an asshole.

I focus on what Slughorn is saying. Today, we are making Draught of Peace. I shiver a little bit, and realize that I'm extremely cold. I wrap my arms around myself.

Soon, I hear the familiar dreadful screech as Draco moves his chair over to my side of the table. I grab the ingredients out of my bag and sigh as I sit back up.

This is going to be a long day.

Light chatter fills the air around us, but so does thick tension. I open a vial that contains syrup of helleborne and cautiously pour half of it into my cauldron, and begin to stir.

I can see that Draco has twisted sideways, and is now facing me.

I can't handle it anymore. I throw down the vial and look at him. "What." I say, as irritated as I possibly can.

He smirks. "You're doing that wrong."

I roll my eyes and turn them back to the potion. I seriously do not want to talk to him right now, nor do I have the energy to. But he decides to push it even further.