one | how to make a draco

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Blaise watched as his friend scrawled frantically in her notebook, stopping every few seconds to splutter with laughter.

"What are you suggesting, Pans?" he asked with a confused smile.

She looked around to check that Draco was engrossed in his book on the other side of the room, and then wordlessly held up the ink-spattered parchment. A matching smile of glee spread across Blaise's face as he read what she'd written.

"Do you think that would work?" he whispered, mind racing.

"Oh, yes," she grinned. "Oblivious Potter is going to fall like a stone for this one! Can you think of anything I've missed?"

Blaise scanned the sheet again, reading quietly as he did so. "Dior Sauvage cologne.... green apple .... cherrywood broom polish .... fresh linen .... spearmint.... hair gel .... Nope, I think you've got it! Although, let me just -"

He raised his voice to a normal speaking level and turned to their friend, who'd been successfully drowning them out thus far. "Draco, can you come here for a second?"

The blonde frowned, unhappy to have been taken away from his book. "Is it not enough that you both insist on whispering and giggling like children while I'm trying to read? Must you involve me too?"

"Just come here, you brat," Blaise grinned, and when Draco reluctantly obliged, he took a deep sniff of him from his hair down to his shoulders.

"Blaise, ugh, what the fuck are you doing?" Draco yelped, withdrawing like he'd been physically shocked.

"Just checking!" Blaise replied, bouncing back with a smirk. "Add vanilla," he mouthed over Draco's shoulder to Pansy, and she winked, scribbling it down eagerly.

"What the fuck are you two playing at?" Draco demanded, rubbing his hands over his head as if to purify himself from Blaise's touch.

His friends considered telling him for a second, then decided against it.

"Nothing," said Pansy sweetly. "Just about to watch the world burn."

"Well, could you do it quietly?" Draco huffed. "You've successfully ruined any chance I had of finishing this book in here, so I'm going up to bed. And I would prefer not to be disturbed by your moronic laughter again. Whatever you're plotting, leave me out of it."

"Whatever you say, Draco, dearest," nodded Pansy, but he was already stomping out of the Common Room. He let the portrait bang hard behind him.

"He'll soon cheer up when he sees what we have in store for him tomorrow," laughed Blaise. "He's going to love this trick. Bloody Potter. Can't think of a better way to fuck with him, actually. You're a genius, Pansy."

"I know, I know," Pansy preened. "Now, come on. We'd better get all that stuff together. We've got some Draco to brew!"

***

The next morning, as the Sixth year Slytherins and Gryffindors lined up outside Snape's dungeon, Pansy and Blaise were unable to keep still or quiet, much to Draco's irritation.

They'd dropped hints to him that morning on what they were planning to do, but he was apparently wilfully refusing to understand them; still in a bad mood from the night before.

"God, Draco, lighten up," Pansy had chuckled after he sent her a particularly crushing glare.

"I wont," he sulked. "I feel like being in a bad mood, so I am going to be in a bad mood."

It was at this point that Pansy and Blaise decided it would be far funnier just not to tell Draco at all for now, and let him be just as surprised as Potter. It's what he gets for being a miserable old git, Pansy thought.

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