handcuffs {draco malfoy}

five: masochistic

MASOCHISTIC

The library was dimly lit when they arrived, with only a couple of students scattered around catching up on homework this early in the morning.

Esmeralda instantly inhaled deeply, the smell of the books like anti-anxiety medication to her brain.

It was calming, quiet, and above all, had not changed since the rise of Lord Voldemort.

She headed straight for the section on the Dark Arts that was located towards the back of the library, Malfoy trailing behind wallowing in his own bloody self-pity.

Esmeralda fought the urge to roll her eyes.

She approached the shelf, running her fingers along the delicate and frayed spines of the ancient books. It was a therapeutic feeling, the different textures of the leather bindings itching just the right scratch in her brain.

Her lips quirked up in a small smile when she found what she was looking for.

Necromancy: Inferi and the Reanimation of the Corpse

She pulled the book down awkwardly with one hand, being forced to bring her other one, along with Malfoy's, to stabilise the rather large book.

Esmeralda brought the book over to the table, settling in down with a small thud and pulling out a chair in front of it to sit down. She got out her half-finished essay, a quill and ink pot, and began flicking through the worn pages of the old book.

Malfoy stood looking down at her for a few seconds, before sighing at taking the seat next to her. He leaned back on the chair and rested his eyes shut, one hand rested beside Esmeralda's on the table and the other over his abdomen, rising and falling with each of his shallow breaths.

Esmeralda stared at her page, her eyes focusing and unfocusing, causing her handwriting to wander around the parchment in a dizzying manner.

Her head fucking hurt.

She couldn't think of what to write, I mean what more can you say but that they are corpses reanimated, and not actually alive? But unfortunately that could pretty much be gathered from the title of the book she was using, so she'd have to do better than that.

She had always been so academic, always biting at Hermione's heels throughout their schooling.

But now it all just seemed so bloody pointless.

Her writing a stupid essay summary of Inferi when they'd already covered it in class was the most useless thing she'd ever heard. It was as if the teachers were giving them mind-numbing work just because they felt sorry for them.

A tapping sound slashed its way into her consciousness, banging on the inside of her already aching skull like a rogue bludger.

She turned sharply to glare down at Malfoy's fingers thrumming on the oak desk, then up to his face. His eyes were still rested closed and he was still completely submerged in his own little world.

"Can you fucking stop that?" Esmeralda finally said sternly.

His eyes flicked open and towards her, meeting her glare with one of equal distain.

His finger movements stopped.

"I already have a headache and this essay is due today. I'm not even halfway through it." Esmeralda sighed, sinking her head into her folded elbow on top of her essay.

"I always thought you were the academic type, Brown." Malfoy spoke with not a hint of sympathy.

"Yeah, well people change." She spoke into her arm in irritation.