Bones ⋆ Draco Malfoy (3)

| NINETEEN: No More Rewinds

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NINETEEN NO MORE REWINDS

     AUTUMN STEPS INTO winter and, like that, there's snow settling, and a thick blanket over Livvy's bed. Windows are laced with frost, scarves are dangling around necks, and socks are being layered. Christmas is right around the corner, and so is the hiding spot for his friends' presents from where he's sitting.

     Livvy and Poppy sit on a couple of blankets placed onto one of the staircases in the dungeons. Poppy's furiously finishing off an essay whilst Livvy's breezing through a book about Tony Bennett. He casually flicks a page to read the next two. She frowns and tries to shake her hand back to life.

     "You know, I'd love it if there was a small portable typewriter, you know?" says Poppy. "I would pay good money for that... It would mean my hand would only hurt badly during exams, and also, I wouldn't have ink all over the side of my hand."

     Livvy takes a mental note of, figure out how to make and wrap a small portable typewriter. He hasn't gotten her a Christmas present yet. He doesn't know if they're good enough friends, but he figures he may as well be nice.

     Normally, it's Briar that helps him out, because she'll be able to figure out what they want by stuff they'll mutter about wanting in the future. But Briar's been off-duty recently. He thinks, anyway. She hasn't told him anything.

     "Left-handed people love to complain," says Livvy. He shakes his head. "Terrible. No wonder it's the Devil's hand."

     Poppy rolls her eyes. "I'm a witch, I'm heading to hell anyway," she argues. "I mean, so are you, but when I get there, I'm going to be the Devil's left hand man."

     Whilst she sniggers at her own joke, Livvy rolls his eyes. "That joke stops being funny after the second time you say it," he tells her, quite truthfully. Poppy shrugs, not caring. Livvy turns the page of his book. "Are you sure we won't get caught for being out past curfew?"

     "I've done this countless times," Poppy tells him. Also quite truthfully. "If Snape appears, I'll hear him thinking something like..." She pauses, she clears her throat, and she pulls a very ugly face to try and mimic Snape. "Oh, here have Sage... out... again... Un...for...tu...nate she will have to spend... lunchtimes... in... detention... for... the next... century..."

     Livvy covers his mouth to hide his sniggering. Poppy laughs to herself, and they both laugh and try to stay quiet for a few minutes. The laughing stops abruptly, when Poppy's laughter draws short and her eyes widen. She begins to grab the blankets (Livvy frowns at her, like, the fuck are you doing?) but there's already a dark shadow looming over them.

     "Mr. Gordon-Isley," says Snape. Livvy exchanges a look with Poppy, who's frozen, one hand gripping the green blanket and the other clutching the purple one. "You need to go to Professor Dumbledore's office."

     "Any reason?" asks Livvy. He stands up suddenly. "It's Briar, isn't it? She—"

     "Just go to his office," says Snape. Livvy grimaces. "As for you, Miss Sage—"

     "Yeah, whatever, I know what you're thinking," says Poppy. She gathers their things, using one blanket as a bag for her homework and Livvy's book. "I'll give you this back in the morning, son?" Livvy nods. "See you tomorrow."

     Livvy swears that he saw Snape smile. No, smirk. But, like, it was the kind of smirk that's so fucking small and miniscule that it's barely noticeable, but when you've seen that ugly face grimacing for as long as Livvy has, you begin to notice any slight different in his expression. And there was. He was smirking. About Poppy seeing him tomorrow. So, first off, what the fuck, and second of all, what the fuck?