Home [Draco Malfoy x Reader]

chapter thirty-two

During breakfast that next Monday, ___ was sitting next to Draco. He was switching between taking bites of cereal and of an apple, while she was catching up on homework for Potions class. The last assignment had been incredibly difficult, especially for her.

"I told you," Draco said, eyes glancing over at her frantic work. "I can tutor you."

"You're not top of the class," she grumbled.

"Just behind Granger!" he scoffed. "And that is only because she has to study so much to keep up with us pureblood wizards."

"I don't think that's entirely true," ___ replied. "I'm sorry. I know you're very smart, and that you're Snape's class pet, but I would really rather do this on my own."

Draco reached over and gently snagged her chin. She began to protest as he forced her to look at him. He shook his head as he examined her eyes, where the proof of her lack of sleep took form in deep, purple circles that couldn't be completely hidden by makeup.

"When was the last time you slept, exactly?" he asked.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "She only ever stays up all night. Does her homework by candlelight, reads under her blankets with her wand. It's maddening, waking up in the dead of night to hear her reading to herself."

Draco shot ___ a dirty look. ___ shrugged. "Hey, I've got to get a good grade somehow. And I try to not make any sounds, Pansy. I really do."

"C'mon, ___, let me tutor you."

"No. No way."

"And why not?" he asked.

"Don't you see pathetic that makes me?" she asked. "Having to ask my boyfriend to help me with Potions. People our age don't study together as dates!"

"And you think you're pathetic for needing a bit of help?" he asked. She bit her lip and nodded shyly. "You could never be pathetic, ___. Never in my eyes."

"But in everyone else's-"

"Who in the bloody hell cares what they think?" he asked. "I can help my girlfriend with her homework if I very well please."

She smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Draco leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"Mail's here," Crabbe said.

"'Bout time," Draco grumbled. He waited until a stack of letters were dropped in front of him. ___, empty-handed as always, took the rolled newspaper from him.

She sighed as she looked at the moving pictures and printed ink. "Potter seems to be all the rage this fall."

"Isn't he always?" Draco muttered. He tore into a very proper looking envelope. It was sealed with the Malfoy family crest.

"Who's that from?" ___ asked.

"My father," he answered. "I wrote him after the names were drawn and told him what you said about Potter not making it ten minutes."

She cracked a grin. "And what'd he say?"

Draco smugly read over the letter. He laughed. "He said he doesn't think he'll make it five."

"Does he want to make it a bet?" she asked.

"You're willing to bet my father?"

"Sure, why not?" she asked with a laugh. "We could use some good fun."

"Very well," Draco said.

"How about you?"

"I'm sorry?"

She elbowed him gently. "You think Potter will last five or ten minutes?"

Draco pretended to think for a long moment, his pointer finger tapping against his chin. "Hm... I've got to go with ten. Got to give Potter a little credit, don't we? And it'd be better to see him get his butt kicked before he loses."

"Or maybe you're too afraid to bet against your girlfriend," Blaise said.

"That, too," Draco admitted.

___'s mouth dropped open. "Draco Malfoy, are you scared of me?"

"No, of course not!" he exclaimed. He shot looks at his friends, made sure they weren't looking, then pinched his middlefinger and pointer finger closed together. "A little."

"Unbelievable," she muttered with a giggle.

"Come on," Draco urged, standing out of his seat. "I'll walk you to class."

"See you later, guys," she said to her friends.

She gathered her books and walked alongside Draco, who put his hand the small of her back. He smirked at the glances they received, clearly enjoying all of the attention. Even if it so much as a whisper, Draco would hold his chin up high and grin.

Only when boys looked at her as they wondered exactly what Draco liked her for, did he have a negative response. He would glare daggers at them, call them a couple of names, and threaten to throw a few curses their way.

___ didn't yell at him. It was nice that he was so protective. Rarely did she have anyone treat her like she was even worth protecting.

He stopped her in front of Divination and kissed her long and hard. She blushed and stepped inside of the classroom, feeling the smudge of some of her lipstick on the corner of her mouth.

She took her seat at a table she shared with a third year Ravenclaw. Ron, who was at the table behind her, threw a paper at her head. She sent him a glare as the wad of parchment bounced off of her head.

"Open it!" he mouthed.

She did. In his nearly unreadable scrawl, she read:

You and Malfoy are snogging and everything, aren't you?

She pursed her lips and looked up at Ron. Slowly, she nodded. His face went from disappointed to angry. He crossed his arms and looked away. She wrote back and rolled the paper ball across the floor. It hit his foot.

He's my boyfriend. Don't see why that matters to you.

Ron was writing. He asked Neville to pass the paper.

He's just using you.

She looked up at him and shook her head. He shrugged. She threw the paper back at him when Professor Trelawny wasn't looking. It smacked him in the center of his forehead.

He wrote back and rolled the paper to her.

Malfoy is a no good, stuck up, snobby git. You know that.

She sighed.

He likes me.

Ron's writing was angry.

He likes the idea of having a girl on his arm. You're nothing but a phase in his life. Don't bother getting attached.

She had to pull out a fresh sheet of parchment. She shoved the other in her bag to keep Professor Trelawny from seeing it.

Why are you telling me this?

He wrote back.

He doesn't look at you any different from how he looks at Parkinson. Notice that?

___ dropped the page. She worked on controlling her anger as she wrote one final sentence and sent it barreling across the table and straight in his face.

Then you really don't pay attention.