42. Fuck It

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"Oh, we'll want a few done." Narcissa said to the artist as they browsed backgrounds.
"(Y/n)?" Draco whispered as we trailed her.
"Mhm?" I said stiffly.
"Your friends are ridiculous, and honestly what happened wasn't a big deal, right?" He asked.
I let myself relax. "Yeah.. I just-" I groaned. "I think it was the gong..." I joked.
"Oh, definitely." He replied, and I flashed a smile at him.
"Too much progress this summer to be embarrassed over one little thing!" I held out my hand for a high five, and he deadpanned.
"I'm not going to high five you, (Y/n)." He said sassily, and I mocked his tone, getting jabbed in the side.
We were quietly fighting until we had to hold still.
She wanted me to have a portrait of just myself, so I was first.
I strained my neck as I posed for the next 30 minutes, and dreaded the three person one.
I didn't even ask to see mine until after, and I gasped.
"Well, she's not that pretty, jeez!" Draco joked, and I frowned at him as he was scolded.
"It's a joke, mother! It looks just like her!" He defended, and I was still pouting.
"What's that look?" He asked as he viewed me and the painting I was holding.
"I don't know if my eyes or cheeks really look that... good?" I asked, tilting my head.
"Oh be quiet, it literally is just an image of you painted." He dismissed, and I kept looking at it weird. "Real you is just as pretty as paint you, can we leave now?" He tried to disguise his compliment in a complaint, but I took it anyways, beaming.
"These are going to be delivered soon?" Narcissa seemed to rush as we joined her.
"Ah, yes! Um, it seems your father needs me, so just go enjoy the food and I'll meet you two at the tower at 1 to go home, and if I'm not there then just carry on back." She rushed. "The reservation is changed to your name, Draco! And (Y/n)! Make sure he's a gentleman!" She called as she rushed towards the fireplace, disappearing with the powder.
"Off to 'ils tombent amoureux ici'?" He butchered the French pronunciation.
"Weird name.. wonder what it means?"
"Yeah, I know right?" He agreed as we left.
---
"It's all in french..." I whispered as I panicked over the menu.
He chuckled as he browsed his options.
"Oh! I can read that! Ratatouille!" I said.
"They serve that? I swear, the dish randomly came to be popular!" He said.
"The movie, dude?" I asked, and he stayed confused. "Right! That's one I watched growing up." I chuckled.
"Yeah, you don't want that." He shook his head as the waiter made their way over.
"Elle veut le croque monsier, et je voudrais bouillabaisse."
I put down my entrée in shock, and the waiter nodded before going back.
"You could barely pronounce the name of the restaurant and then you-" I said in shock.
"I only know how to order food, and definitely insult someone In french." He said proudly, and I rolled my eyes.
---
"A full stomach, then out in Paris!" I twirled. "Normal Paris, too! No windy roads, or quirky stores, just cars and streetlights, and-"
"Boring muggle things?" He commented and I stopped spinning.
"One little whiny bitch's trash, is another beautiful, mature and graceful young lady's treasure!" I teased as I rejoined his side.
"Right." He said, looking around as the tower lights came in sight.
"Is that boring?" I whispered, and he scoffed.
"At least our world is less... creepy."
"I don't know what-" a man slowly emerged from an alleyway in front of us, and I clamped onto the blond boy's hand as the man passed us.
"What don't you know?" He asked teasingly as the man passed enough away.
"Be quiet." I was quieter now, and he gave my hand a squeeze to get my attention, and I looked to him.
He stared up, and I followed his eyes to the top of the tower, mentally taking a picture.
"Race you to the top!" He called out of nowhere, sprinting up the hidden stairway.
"You little-" I cried as I clicked along in my heels.
---
Both of my heels were thrown at his head by the time we were at the top, panting heavily.
"Never do that again..." he seemed to beg.
"It was your idea!" I cried out, hands on my knees.
"Ehh.." he groaned in response as he finally caught his breath.
We waited until 1am, looking off into the city in peaceful silence.
"Fuck it, (Y/n), I-" he tried to say out of nowhere, but another voice stopped him.
"Your father needs you, Draco." His mother said, sounding upset. "I'll see (Y/n) home.."
---
Jeremy cursed under his breath. His last year, and he'd spend it this way.
Bringing back the dark lord.
And to think, he was planning on making the understanding between him and Christina official not even a week ago.
He watched her as she practiced piano in the craft room, Theodora sewing while snuggled into Jay on the sofa, as Jeremy read over the plans again and again.
He hated it, he hated it all. He wished that he could've been normal, but the paper in his hand prevented that.
He then remembered his mother, his aunties, and the father of the girl he loved.
The ministry needed to be redone, and he was ready to push that change.

•Memories• ||D.M.||Where stories live. Discover now