Muggles ✧ Drarry

᥊ꪜ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5ᴋ
ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ: ғᴇʙʀᴜᴀʀʏ 10ᴛʜ, 2021
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They were at Potter's house, them being Pansy, Draco, and the Auror himself. It was one of those days, one of the ones where hope for their magical situation was nigh-on inexistent. It was one of those days where it seemed as though being a muggle was Draco's Hell, as if it was his punishment for joining the Dark Lord in his deplorable ways.

This negativity, this lack of magic, was making Draco irritable. He was sitting on the sofa next to Potter—on Potter's sofa, mind you, not behind it like his first visit—and pouting, because occasionally Draco was allowed to show his distaste. Pansy, who was sitting on a sofa chair across the way, was talking at the speed of a snitch about how excited she was to hear that Granger and Weasley would be returning soon.

"When Granger comes home there will be a solution to your problem!" she said cheerfully, and Potter nodded, seemingly relaxed at hearing that he wasn't the only one who was awaiting Granger's return anxiously. "With hers and Draco's minds combined, they're sure to come up with a way to get your magic back very soon."

"Yeah, you're lucky you added that last part," Draco murmured, quite rudely, under his breath. Pansy, who had been smiling until this point, raised an eyebrow of challenge.

"What crawled up your arse and died? she queried, scrunching up her face.

Draco only rolled his eyes in response.

Typically, he would never have considered himself to be anything near contemptible, but as he spent more time with Harry Potter, he was learning new things.

Of course, the only person who would ever call Draco contemptible was Pansy, and she did.

"You're such a contemptible bitch sometimes," she told him, and Draco felt himself shocked.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're so contemptible and frustrating. The world is ending because you don't have magic for a little while. Maybe you should spend your time enjoying the company of your new friend," she gestured to Potter, "Or spending time with the one who just got back after being gone for three years?" she pointed to herself. "Blaise is getting married in less than a year, you haven't taken time to talk to him about that, and in case you forgot, your mother is in the hospital. Maybe you should use some of that pity-party time to talk to her."

"And how do you suppose I do that?" Draco asked. "My only mode of transportation is the Knight Bus or dragooning someone into side-along-ing me wherever I want to go. I can't get to the hospital unless I want a broken back in the process, and my back already hurts from—"

Potter snorted, but covered it up a feeble cough. Draco eyed him threateningly, and the Boy Wonder pretended to look in a different direction for a moment.

"Anyways," Draco resumed his rant, "I have hardly any way to get where I'd like to go."

"You could invite Blaise over to your house, so that's no excuse. Hell, you could invite me or Potter over too. The only thing that I listed out of those things that requires effort is visiting your mother."

"My mother is dead."

Pansy bit her lip in concentration, and then sighed. "Yes, I'm sorry, if you'd like to visit the shell, it'll require a bit more effort."

"Well I don't want to spend time with the shell anyway, so thats hardly an issue. Besides, what am I doing right now? I'm spending time with both you and Potter."

Pansy went to say something, but bit her tongue. Draco began to wonder to himself what her issue was. He did spend time with his friends, as least most of the time. She was literally over at his house no less than three times a week for tea, so why in fuck was she complaining so much?