The Girl Who Lived (Draco Malfoy x OC)

The Craft of Cupid

February 13th 1997

The sun was bright, bringing more and more warmth every day. Harper could bask in it for hours, rolling in the comforting affection as she sat upon a wide tree stump. She smiled up at the sky, her mood at an all time high as she waited for Malfoy to meet her in a grove just south of Hogsmeade. In the distance she could see the outline of the Shrieking Shack, remembering painful times for the girl who lived. She reached up to clasp the golden brooch pinned to her chest, ducking down to kiss it.

"Miss you, Padfoot," she said.

Faraway shuffling pulled her from her thoughts and she grinned, expecting to see Malfoy approaching. Instead it was the least wanted person on her agenda. Cormac McLaggen. He was straying off the path and heading towards her, thick winter coat with hands in his pockets. She immediately whipped back around, hoping he didn't see her see him.

"Harper!" He called.

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath. "Yes, Cormac?" She asked, turning to him with the furthest thing from a smile.

"I'm surprised to see you so far out of town alone today," he said, voice chirpier than the wood pigeons.

"Yes, well perhaps I wanted to be alone."

He sighed, squinting up at the sun. "Harper, I really want to restore what we used to have. All this animosity between us, it's gotta end sometime."

"That time isn't now," she said. "It doesn't help that you hit me with a bludger either."

"You know that was an accident," he said, looking at her with big brown eyes. He inched closer and with all her self respect, Harper edged back. "Let me make it up to you. It's Valentine's Day tomorrow and I don't want you to spend it alone. I'll treat you dinner, no amortentia, I promise."

"Who said anything about being alone?" She replied. A snowy topped somebody then appeared in her line of sight. His handsome visage immediately screwing into a frown at the view of McLaggen. If she wasn't so annoyed at the Gryffindor before her, she would have taken more time to admire Malfoy's customary ensemble. His woolen bakers coat was clearly of the highest quality with dark jeans that fit him snugly. He knew how to dress, that was obvious.

For the sake of their secret, she expected him to turn around and wait for McLaggen to leave. But instead, Malfoy began marching his way through the trees, anger smoldering underneath his stony expression. She felt her pulse increase for fear that he'd reveal them to McLaggen if he arked up in her defence. But before she could even warn him to turn around, he shouted.

"McLaggen!" Malfoy venomously greeted.

He turned to nod at the approaching Slytherin. "Malfoy, a pleasure as always," he sarcastically replied.

If only she could apparate away there and then.

He stopped just short of her, but Harper didn't miss the twitch in his hand as he nearly reached for her. "I didn't expect to find you this deep in the woods," he said to McLaggen, his voice always possessing that opulent tone. There was always something graceful about the way Malfoy rose himself above others, he did it so effortlessly. "If I throw a stick, will you leave us?"

"I was just keeping the lovely Harper company," McLaggen swishly responded, failing to sound the same level as grand as the Slytherin. "Is there something we can help you with, Malfoy?"

"Yes," he quipped. "Your absence. I don't believe you're wanted here."

"I don't think that should come as a surprise to you," Harper added. "And as for your offer, the answer is no."