Peppermint; Draco Malfoy [2]

FOUR

ALEXIS' P.O.V.

I leave the Slytherin common room to go to breakfast alone, feeling a lot more refreshed. Thea is still sleeping, and I learnt very quickly to never wake her up, so I'll just save her some food for when she finally decides to join me.

I fiddle with my tie on the way to the hall, trying to get it even. I've never liked doing my tie.

Before, Draco would do it for me. It's ironic really, the boy doing the girl's tie. But now I have to learn how to do it on my own.

"Need help?"

I yelp, placing a hand over my heart. It's him. The boy from the train. "Oh my gosh, I didn't even hear you coming."

He points at my lopsided tie. "Can I?"

"Uhhmm, sure." I stop walking and stand still, lifting my chin up so he can help. I look into his eyes and he smiles back at me, making me blush.

His fingers brush my collarbone as he slips the tie through the knot, sending goosebumps up my arm. In a few swoops, my tie is now secured neatly, tucked into the front of my cardigan.

We then resume our walk to breakfast. "Thanks. So, you're a Slytherin? I didn't see you get sorted yesterday."

"Yeah, I already got sorted before we got here. I was with Professor McGonagall finishing up a few things."

Intriguing. "Where are you from?"

"America. I was in Ilvermorny."

I've heard of them. They're the American version of Hogwarts, very elitist. Now his slight accent makes sense.

"But my parents are both British," he continues. He runs up the small stairs and opens the door, letting me go through first.

Hmmm, a gentleman. I wonder if all Americans are like this.

We walk into the Great Hall and look for spaces at the tables. "Well, thank you again... for yesterday as well."

He brushes his hand aside nonchalantly. "Don't worry 'bout it Hendrix."

He knows my name? I don't even know his.

"Wait!" I call as he walks to the Slytherin table. "What's your name?"

He turns around and smiles at me. "Whitlock. Quinton Whitlock."

I sit down at the Gryffindor table next to Harry, a small grin on my face as I reach for the orange juice.

Quinton Whitlock. I like him.

"Why are you smiling like that?" asks Ron, a rather large pile of food on his plate.

"Didn't you see who she was talking to?" asks Hermione, the Daily Prophet blocking her from sight. "He's the new boy. Came all the way from Ilvermorny, in the US. His family decided to move back to Britain because of some work scandal so he transferred here."

All three of us blink repeatedly as we stare at her. How does she know all this?

"And you know this... how?" I ask, grabbing a crumpet and then going back for another one for when Thea decides to grace us with her presence.

"It's Hermione. How doesn't she know would be the real question," says Harry.

"Anyway, I like him. He seems nice, quite charming. Plus, he basically saved me yesterday from those Dementors."

"That's right, I heard you fainted too," says Hermione, putting down her newspaper. "How are you by the way?"

"I'm fine now. But I don't know, it was really weird. I saw it and I just collapsed. I heard a scream, a woman. It was awful."