𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓; DM FANFICTION

Chapter 8

SAGE WALTMORE

HIS TOUCH. THE concupiscence. concupiscence? No I don't- I don't have a lustful desire that includes having sex with him. It keeps replaying and replaying. Draco is my friend. He shouldn't have done that.

If I regret it so much I should have- I would have stopped. I fiddled with the annoying school skirt I wore, just this one particular skirt I hated. What is this? Why are they teaching me the history of magic? I would have been better off without this...it's not like learning the history of magic is a necessity. I bit the tip of my tongue in annoyance.

January 12, 1999
Sage Waltmore

Newt Scamander, Born February 24, 1897-

I ripped out the parchment paper and tossed onto the paper pile. I slid the hair tie off of my wrist struggling to put my hair into a ponytail. I looked around the library resting my hands onto the table. I looked at the table in front of me and saw him. Draco. Staring at me. As I caught his eye his grew wider as if I weren't supposed to see him.

He sat at the table in front of me. How is he always here? Near me? Whether it's in the hallway, if I'm watching the quidditch pitch get rebuilt, talking to Headmaster McGonagall, friends or if I happen to be in the library.

I'm overthinking this he always happens to be there. He's my friend.

He sent me a small smile and I sent one back. He brushed away his robe as he stood up carrying his book bag. Is he walking over to me? Why is he walking over to me? I slid my hand down my thigh. "Are you having trouble?" He asked. He pulled the chair out, dropping his bag on the table.

"No-no I actually-" I was cut off. "-It isn't nice to lie." I looked up at him, he gave me a blank expression.

I let out a nervous chuckle. "What?" I asked.
"You're lying. The eight crumbled pieces of parchment..." he said slowly. I dug my nails into my knee. "It actually isn't important, I don't think it would affect my grade." I jumped a little as he hardly pressed his hand on mine. My fingers flattening out onto my knee. I hissed in pain because of the pressure he put onto my hand. "Are you lying again?" He asked sternly. I furrowed my eyebrows. "No. I'm sure of it, I just- I just like to um..." I began to feel nervous. "Stop digging your nails into your skin." He said.

How long has he been watching me here? "What?" I asked. "Don't dig your nails into your skin." He said sternly. Then he released his hand and I felt the pressure starting to lift. I pursed my lips embarrassed that he saw. It wasn't any of his business either of what I do with my body.