Blaire Zabini || Draco Malfoy

30 - Song Bird

"Rumour has it," Draco drawled in my ear as I bit into my toast. "Weasley's the new Gryffindor Keeper."

"Cool," I shrugged, really not giving a shit.

"I'm going to take the boys down to the pitch after breakfast to watch them practice," he continued smoothly, failing to mask the exhilaration in his eyes. "Should be a laugh. You coming?"

"No, thanks," I muttered coolly. "I've got better things to be doing on my Saturday morning."

"Like what?" Draco scoffed in a tone that implied he couldn't quite believe anything was worth doing more than winding up the Gryffindors.

"The Prefects Bathroom, remember?"

Due to previous embarrassments with prefects walking in on other prefects, a booking system had been put in place in which you were issued a unique password for your allotted session. The term still being fresh, however, made it almost impossible to get a decent time.

But with some luck, I'd finally managed to secure a Saturday morning slot and I was bursting to get in and spend the next few hours soaking in luxury.

I certainly did not want to spend it sitting in a freezing cold stadium listening to Draco acting like a prat.

"But you can do that anytime," Draco whined as he moodily stabbed his fork into a piece of bacon, "how often are you going to get to see Weasley making a fool of himself on a broom?"

"Once would be too many times, Drac," I sighed disdainfully. "I'm not giving up my morning of bliss. Besides, I'm already in my bikini and my body is singing out to be immersed in bubbles."

His grey eyes immediately widened, flitting ever so briefly up and down my body as he swallowed.

"But it's Weasley," he said, his voice coming out in a strange kind of strangled hoarseness, "on a broomstick."

"So?" I shrugged, knocking back my pumpkin juice. "Do what you want, Drac. We're not joined at the hip."

"Oooo, I'll come with you!" Pansy screeched, making me shudder. I nervously looked to her, relief flooding me when it was clear she was addressing Draco and not me.

I didn't miss the flicker of irritation flash in Draco's eyes. "Sure, Pans," he mumbled, his body sagging dejectedly.

*****

I felt as though I was floating when I walked back down to the dungeons two and a half hours later.

The Prefect Bathroom had been every bit as good as I'd hoped, and I felt fully refreshed and relaxed after my much needed downtime.

My good mood, however, was quickly deflated upon entering the common room.

Draco was sat deep in thought on the sofa as Pansy, her arms draped around his neck, nibbled and licked his earlobe. Good god, it was like third year all over again.

Even worse than that though, Crabbe and Goyle were just sat in the armchairs watching them in silence as though they were in some kind of voyeuristic porn show.

I strode over to them, making my presence known. Draco jumped the second he noticed me, hastily pushing a disappointed looking Pansy away as he made space for me to sit.

"Nice bath?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided my eyes.

"It was," I gritted through my teeth; throwing him a filthy look, "until I got back here and discovered my eyes needed another fucking soak."

"Sorry," Pansy tittered, "we just got a bit carried away reminiscing about this morning. You should have seen Weasley's face. He looked as though he was going to cry like a baby!"