#8 Green Eyes

257 2 0
                                    

Draco was in an unnaturally good mood the next day. Between the blade above his head was a cloud of Hermione, her positivity and blind faith acting as a bolster between him and reality.

His smirk was enough to have Pansy falling over herself to ask about the Dark Lord and how things must be going well, seeing as Draco have been in a good mood lately. If she only knew. The thought brought amusement to his face which Pansy read as confirmation of her speculations, bringing her to a squeal.

"If Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Parkinson are unable to control themselves in class, I suggest they take it out of the classroom."

Snape's voice wiped the smile clean from Draco's face, shock squeezing its way into his chest. Was it open season on Draco Malfoy? First, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and now Professor Snape himself! This man who ate at his table during festivities, who gave meticulously wrapped presents... Someone who he saw as more uncle than anything else.

"Sorry, professor." He managed weakly and unable to help himself, he shot a look at Hermione who looked far too interested in copying notes but he could just make out a slight quirk at the corner of her lips.

"Now, then. If there are no more interruptions, we will turn our attention to brewing."

"Do you reckon he's peeved he still hasn't managed to secure his coveted position?" Pansy purred at Draco, stressing the second last word excessively.

When that prompted no reply, she continued while playing with a lock of his hair. "Although Dumbledore is a right daft arse for not seeing his potential." Pansy said suggestively.

"Or maybe, he is afraid of how much potential he has." Draco answered mysteriously. Let her chew on that.

Her next words fell on deaf ears and a hidden smirk, but there was no getting rid of her. She insisted on staying by his side even after class ended, walking with him all the way to the Great Hall for lunch and sat next to him. Soon, he was joined by his old friends, a warm envelop that he hasn't experienced since isolating himself since the beginning of the year. It felt good to be surrounded with old familiarities, false or shallow though it might be, there was no denying the surge of contentment. He allowed himself to be swallowed by the conversations, talk of petty wins and gossip.

Pansy, emboldened by the crowd, fell back into old patterns and laid her hand on Draco, flitting from shoulder to lap. Having been used to this sort of treatment, the Slytherin made no move to stop her. It was only when she tried to feed him, did he frown at her and push her hand away before returning to a story Goyle was telling.

It was towards the end of lunch and only when the hall was nearly empty did the Slytherins disperse, rushing back to their common room to fetch supplies they needed for their next classes. Draco simply leaned back on his chair to revel in the silence.

"That was nice, wasn't it, Draco? You haven't had lunch with us for a while." Pansy seemed determined; mind set on something he couldn't quite place his finger on. He turned to look at her.

"What is it you want, Pansy?"

This seemed to take her aback, he had always been haughty but now he was just plain... rude.

"To spend time with you, I haven't got to see you properly, or talk to you." She tried, touching his shirt collar.

"So, talk," Draco drawled after jerking out of her grasp, "what is so important?"

He trained his vision out of the corner of his eye on her and she dropped her gaze. He could see the fight go out of her as she stood up, "It's nothing. See you in class." She mumbled.

He watched her leave without a speck of remorse. In fact, the resentment towards her bubbled up a little more. Who in his house would spare him a second glance if his name was not Malfoy? Take away his name and who, then, still had love for him? The temporary bubble of warmth had died away along with the crowd.

Sighing, he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder before deciding to head into the courtyard instead. It was a pretty day, but his head was filled with dark thoughts. No matter what happens, he wouldn't be relying on his NEWTs to ensure himself a future. If he succeeded in the task laid down before him, his future would be one of running from the authorities and when the time came, to serve by the side of his father's master. If he failed, he would barely live long enough for grades to matter.

The silence of the grounds were punctuated with first years wandering lost on their way to the bathroom or sixth years enjoying their free period. He found it quite distracting to brood when curious eyes would search for his and skitter away when they realised who he was. It was annoying and he didn't want to cause any rumours, so he retreated into a quieter corner of Hogwarts, steering clear of the building because he wasn't up for a run in with Peeves.

It was with great satisfaction that Hermione saw a forlorn Pansy walking into class all by herself. There was an ugly vindictive feeling which tore into the better part of her and she wore a smug expression all through class. Although, niggling at the back of her mind, she did wonder faintly what happened to Draco and why he did not show up to class at all. Did they have a lover's spat? Had something happened between the two of them?

By the end of the class, she wasn't as gleeful as she was, although she knew it had nothing to do with her. They were barely even friends and what he did with his life is trivial and his own prerogative. It was what she kept convincing herself because the truth was a hard pill to swallow: she wanted their precarious friendship to be special. She wanted it to be real. And she didn't want to share.

The Lost Timeline | Dramione | ✔Where stories live. Discover now